One for the poets

In the closing chapter of Augustus by John Williams, a novel I have just finished reading for the second time, I noticed yet another passage that I criminally overlooked on the first read. This quote appears in a letter written by the elderly and reflective emperor Octavius Caesar, to his friend, the historian and philosopher,…

A splitting headache 

I enjoyed the captions that everybody submitted yesterday so much that I have decided to do it again today. Okay, are you ready? Here’s the picture: Please leave suggested captions in the comment section. Interestingly, this piece was created by the same artist as my last post, the very talented Sr. X. Last time I…

Time is the Enemy

I’m so busy at the moment that I just don’t have all the time I’d like to write. I’ll be going to Belgium this weekend, Budapest (for a stag party which I know I’ll be most certainly writing about) the next and then I have this Rock the Farm festival going on at the end of…

Don’t Grow Up

For the past few weeks, the weather in London has been –  what the Irish would describe as – “desperate.” Making my way to the work, a few soggy mornings ago, I caught glance of this shop front and despite the soaked and depressing concrete grays of the city at this time of year, it…

Why Even Bother

Without trying to come across as too pompous – yet doing just that – I would like to share a section from the introduction to a “Condensation of Animal Farm” published by World Digest in January 1946 and in reference to the writings of George Orwell. It goes a little like this: (Mr Orwell) does not hesitate to criticize…

Looking back on Galway

In the initial months of the Irish economic collapse, I lived like a down-and-out amongst the bohemians of Galway City. My hair was long, my clothes were scruffy and I had no greater aspirations in life above funding my next meal. As if things couldn’t get any worse, I joined a writing group. While, as a collective, the group…

Traveling better with Tubiquette

Even at the best of times, riding the Tube can be a labored and infuriating experience. And it’s not even the delays, cramped carriages or bronchiole clogging tunnels that’ll drive an otherwise sane person to screaming at non-English-speaking strangers, but more a confluence of small, regularly occurring, irritations; tourists standing on the left side of…

To Infinity and Beyond

According to its Amazon.co.uk receipt – archived in my Gmail inbox – I bought the thing nearly two years ago. Since then, I’ve moved house twice and it  has occupied space – unread – on at least 3 different bookshelves. Finally, however, I’ve started reading Infinite Jest. Nearly two weeks in and just under 120…