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I don’t know if my fans have been keeping track of what is easily the best reality programme on the face of global television, but since it started 5 weeks ago, I’ve been glued religiously to the television on Wednesday nights since the new series started. I’m not talking about mind-numbing monotonous productions like Big Brother and the spin-offs from it such as “I’m a Celebrity” and Ireland’s useless contributions, namely “Celebrity Farm” and the utter horse-excrement that is “You’re a Star”. No, I’m talking about something people in the UK and Ireland can actually learn from - The Apprentice.

Based on the Donald Trump success of the American Apprentice (which is so crass and cringe-worthy) the BBC’s production of the American hit-show, true to BBC standards, is excellent. The businessman who’s taking the plunge for the want of taking on someone from Britain’s finest business people to help run one of his companies is none other than the self-titled ‘belligerent’ Sir Alan Sugar.

I’d seen a few episodes of the previous series, and I’d been sucked in by the hissy-fitting CEO. His charismatic displays of unimpressed feelings in the boardroom bode well with most CEOs that I’ve encountered. I knew little about the man except that he had a flair that was self-loving yet crude and honest. Sir Alan Michael Sugar is the East-End boy done good. He founded Amstrad in the 1970s and has gone from strength to strength, now claiming to have a net worth of around £800m.

Each week, the carefully selected group of guinea pigs are mashed together to perform pretty simple tasks. I say they’re pretty simple, because they are. The key winning point is that each person on the show is competing against one another and they over-complicate even the smallest of details. I’m sure the editing has something to do with it too, but the emphasis is on planning and execution, rather than rational thought, and this leads to the inevitable firing once a week.

The show is a model for business managers all over Ireland and the UK in displaying the simple harsh reality in business - teamwork does not work. Or at least, it doesn’t work unless the members of the team are strong and willing. Coming from a wide range of backgrounds, each participant has a varying skill-set (and I use that word sparingly - no one really has any talent.)

The show also highlights some of the fundamental errors in management that has emerged over the past few years - this notion of focused creation. There was a time when products were innovated and created by people who had vision and ideas. Today, people are being forced into a small room and told to come up with ideas - such is the nature of the fast-paced business world. You can’t make someone come up with an idea - it has to come from the heart. But this has been happening for years, and certainly where I’ve worked and where I’ve seen others work, this is the culture. It’s stemming from the University culture, where people are ‘taught’ management theory and models and processes. As a result, we’re in a situation where a Bachelor of Commerce is a ticket to management, without any worldly experience or any actual tacit knowledge. You cannot teach someone to be a leader or a manager - they either are or they aren’t. You can certainly teach them how to be an administrator or someone who carries out tasks, but not how to create something or lead something.

This is hugely evident in the Apprentice, but in a skewed way. We see males and females from differing backgrounds, some with education and some without. To be honest, and I’m saying this as a forthcoming graduate, those with no University academia seem to be doing the best. Those with academic awards play with flip-charts and brainstorming and matrices and models, while those who have worked at some point in their lives get things done. Designing a calendar was one such task given to the team. It should take about 20 minutes. Simple tasks that have been complicated by business-speak and useless management ‘techniques’.

Overall the show is a big hit among the mature audiences, but it’s really students and practitioners of education that need to look at it and not just watch it but follow it. It’s not even remotely typical of a business environment i.e. a CEO giving under-achievers a second shot and give them mickey-mouse tasks. What it does, it does brilliantly - that is highlight the traits in people that are largely attributed to bad education and lack of real-world experience, and that is a fundamental grasp of what it is you’re trying to do. Watch it, it’s brilliant. My money’s on Paul. Guess why?!

diarmy

For many, it’s a day of national pride and a chance to walk around the towns and cities of Ireland draped in the tri-colour. For Government ministers, it’s a time of international travel to spread the good word that Ireland is open for business. This year was no exception, with Minister for Defence, Willie O’Dea being left to “Mind the Shop” as he explained to John Bowman on Questions and Answers last Monday night, while every other minister save for Mícheál Martin, went to sell the Irish Advantage - whatever crap that is!

But St. Patrick’s Day in recent times has brought the issue of alcoholism and under-age drinking to the fore, before it disappears behind some Aston on RTÉ News the following night, unless of course there’s been a camera-shot of some drunk kids that they can peddle to the nation. This seemingly politically-correct prostitution of Irish drunkenness seems to stand well with people, with all the “charity” cases being highlighted and “care centres” being given free advertisement in the run up to St. Paddy’s courtesy of anxious news journalists who want to cash in on the drink-fuelled craze.

But does anyone actually give a toss? Genuinely, I don’t think so. Prime Time last week spent more time talking about Ireland’s drunkenness than they did on the Port Tunnel. Had it been any other weekend, alcohol abuse wouldn’t even have featured on the programme. And instead of asking young people why they drink, a University Professor was brought on the show to talk about it from St. Vincent’s Hospital’s point of view. Camera crews were brought out to the Port Tunnel to cover its impending opening, but nothing was covered by bad RTÉ camera work and crap editing about the problems with alcohol, save for a re-run of the “drinks tray”, a stock shot from the archives of the state broadcaster depicting a revolving tray with bad lighting and partially-consumed alcoholic drinks of all variety on display.

An episode in the long-running Simpsons, titled “Homer Vs. The Eighteenth Ammendment”, a St. Patrick’s Day parade in Springfield is marred by Bart’s drunkeness… the first and only time the character consumes alcohol. (See inset picture)

There is a national embarrassment that sets into people when they hear us described as a nation of drunks by the outside world (and believe me, they do think that!), but it’s just casually laughed off by the Irish and the next pint is ordered. We don’t seem to care that the world is laughing at us. The Government don’t seem to care that alcohol is being openly sold to minors with simply no question as to identification. Gardaí are powerless to stop under-age drinking, not least because they can’t prosecute minors without being bogged down in unnecessary paperwork. It’s a vicious circle.

But I have a theory. I was browsing the Guinness website the last day, and true to myself, I watched the advertisements Guinness have run on TV in the past. The ads from the 1990s were pretty odd, but good none-the-less. Then I saw there were ads from the 50s and 60s - a time when television was a scarcity but something that led people to believe anything that was told to them through the magic box (given the fact they believed man walked on the moon in 1969!). As I watched the advertisement, I noticed that there was a heavy reliance on the words “after work you need a Guinness”. This is powerful commandment, even by today’’s standards. Women too were encouraged to knock back some of the black-stuff. This could have contributed to a drink-culture birth, with generations taking heed from their parents who were led to the bar-stools by Ireland’s best commodity. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t only Guinness who were doing this. In 1968, ads were run on RTÉ for Phoenix Beer (now vanished) with magical dancing glasses (watch it again and look for the fishing-line on the floating glass!). This again was marvellous for the time and this type of campaign would have made people genuinely go and have a drink - I’m sure of it! I remember being captivated by a Coca Cola advert once, so if it happened in the highly-regulated market of today’s advertising, it definitely happened long before Broadcasting Standards were even thought of!

So, with the seemingly unending acceptance of drink in the 60s, and the poverty in the late 70s and early 80s by a Jack Lynch country gone mad, Irish people hit the bottle and a new generation were learning to drink at a young age. Now that the tables have turned and the Celtic Tiger has become a grandfather, affluent Ireland has more money to spend, and kids are increasingly getting their hands on drink. But I suppose, how can we blame the children?! Lets be honest, if us adults weren’t doing it, why would they?! If there weren’t over 3000 pubs in Dublin, would Dublin have a drink-problem?! Would there be as many teenage pram-pushers? Would there be a drunk maniac on Shop Street every night of the week?!

I personally blame the publicans, the bad advertising in the past, the retailers who don’t give a f*** about who they sell alcohol to, and above all, Irish adults. In response to the “What can we do?” effort, I would say to ban ALL alcohol advertisement in every way and ban the sale of cheap alcoholic drink. But like everything else in this country, it’ll never work, because at the end of the day, who cares?!

diarmy

It’s coming toward the end of the crusade that has been the Government’s attempt to give me a formal education. I’ve been in full time education since the tender age of 3 when I first started attending a Naoinra (Irish Pre-School) in Ventry back in 1987. I started off there with a wonderful teacher, Cathy Corduff, all those years ago. I still have fond memories of going to the beach at the bottom of the road with the large green bucket to get sand for the sand-table (or as we knew it, Bórd Gainnimh). Then it was into full time schooling at Scoil Náisiúnta Cheann Trágha, or Ventry National School in 1988 where I stayed until 1996. I wreaked havoc there in my latter years, and was glad to see the back of it.

In 1996 I ventured to the “big school” in Daingean Uí Chúis, Meánscoil na mBráthar, where I had a difficult time of blending in with the vast majority of pupils from all over the Peninsula. In hindsight this was a good thing, however at the time it was quite difficult to deal with, and the horrendous bus journeys home were of particular pain for me. I was a child with dreams and aspirations, a child with a wonderful memory of places I’d been, and I always knew I was destined for more than ending up in a dead end job that I despised just because of where I was from.

Transition Year proved the benevolent bearer of good news, as I made a conscious decision to leave the shackles of public schooling in search of a better life in a boarding school. Many people think that I was being snobbish by choosing to leave the Monastery (as it was colloquially known) but I knew that it would lead to a better life in the long run.

In 2000 I finally ceased my educational ties with Daingean Uí Chúis and went to school in Tipperary’s finest boarding school, Rockwell College. The distance copper-fastened my ideals of a better life away from the Peninsula in which I’d felt an outcast for my whole life (with the obvious exception of my close friends and family). Rockwell gave me the energy and charisma I’d never have grasped at home. I became an active member of the school and grew to popularity in my final year. Since leaving the college in 2002, I’ve built on the successes of my work outside of the college through the network of past pupils.

In 2002 I graduated from Rockwell College with a respectable Leaving Certificate score which led me into the National University of Ireland in Galway to study what seemed like an extremely interesting course at the time, a Bachelor of Science in Business Information Systems. And now, four years later, in 2006, it’s all coming to a close. On the 31st of March I will cease my education tuition, and by the middle of May I’ll have completed what has been the largest activity in my life since my birth 22 years ago.

So in the dying embers of what is my educational tuition, I’m still bogged down with assignments galore when I should be free to study for the most important exams of my life - my Semester 2 finals. Maybe as a lecturer at the University once proposed, Ireland’s education system will update itself in time and people won’t have to go through the perils of the education system.

In my 19 years or so in education, I have expanded the possibilites of my future infinitely, met wonderful and interesting people, developed a keen fascination with how things work, experienced relationships and friendships that harden and pave my future in this world. I’ve said good-bye to 2 very good friends who passed away, one in 1990 and one in 2003, several relatives and all of my grandparents. All in all, not a bad life to date - and I owe every bit of it to my two wonderful parents.

diarmy

Those now famous words uttered by Ben Stiller as Derek Zoolander in the film of the same name have led me to lift the lid somewhat on who exactly I am. I’ve always been of the impression that I should keep my personal life personal, however today I’ll leave the door ajar for you to peer into the person that I am. Odds are nobody really knows me - that might be arrogant to say but it’s largely true.

Most people I would assume at this stage have me pinned for a cynic and a defeatist. While in many respects this may be true, the fact is that most of what I do is a façade for something else. But, don’t be completely shocked - we’re all compulsive liars even if we tell ourselves we aren’t. We all try to be someone we’re not in every day scenarios. This is true for me also, however I have the benefit of years of experience.

Coming from the County of Kerry, life isn’t exactly easy. As I’ve found our since I left the county six years ago, Kerry isn’t well-liked in the outside world. Kerry-people are seen as arrogant, pig headed, backward and above all else, frugal. While this is true for the vast majority of people from the county, the fruits of a six-year battle to alter my image leaves me homeless in many respects. I don’t consider myself from anywhere in particular, however when pushed I will say Kerry. Having spent time living in Waterford, Tipperary, Dublin and Galway, I feel most at home in Galway with Tipperary coming in close second place. To be honest however, this doesn’t bother me.

Another misconception about me is that of the negative guy who only sees red. This is to a great extent true, however as I mentioned in a previous entry, I believe in perfection and sometimes find it hard to accept something at face value. We all know deep down that everything can be done better than it is, but most prefer to bottle up this feeling and not express it. Ironically, as private as I am, I feel comfortable expressing my dismay at imperfection. While I accept my own work has flaws, I believe at all times that it can be better, and because of that, everything that I do is an improvement on something that has come before.

The simple truth that I want to reveal today however is not founded in the fear of rejection, but more of an air-freshner to those who don’t believe it. I am a romantic at heart. You may heckle the words “old-fashioned” and “corny” at my feet, but sticks and stones may break my bones and words will never hurt me. I have a soft spot for certain people and thankfully this has led me to be hardened to the plight of women in bad relationships. I understand people far more than they think, this coming from over two decades of observing people and the subtle nuances that make up the connecting bond between two people.

I may decide to remove this entry in the near future - no doubt due to regret and anguish from feelings of rejection and vulnerability, but with your new-found wisdom, maybe you can forgive me and yourself for the failings of the human condition - we are not as we seem.

diarmy

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Since last weekend’s vicious assault on Irish democracy with the onset of rioting in the “Capital” city, many have questioned the actions of the Gardaí in particular, with little reference to why exactly people were marching on our streets, citizens of a foreign land who detest the Republic and all it stands for.

Last night, the Unionist Lord Mayor of Belfast appeared alongside Tim Pat Coogan and Irish Defence Minister Willie O’Dea and journalist Fintan O’Toole on RTE’s bastardisation of one of the world’s longest-running late night chat shows. The show’s ‘host’, Mr. Pat Kenny, stood back and along with the Irish representations, listened to the Lord Mayor of Belfast say that we “down here” can get on with whatever we want. That attitude exemplified in that one short sharp statement is exactly why there was tension on O’Connell Street last weekend.

While Minister O’Dea said that the Irish Government had no intelligence about the fallout of the marching, the cockroach in the grass outside my window could have predicted there would have been massive protest at this unnessacery insult to Irish people. While most Irish people would claim to be Republican, not one of us are delighted of our bloody past. Nevertheless, celebrating the death of Protestant victims of Republican violence on the streets of the capital city of a country that is still fighting for total independence is just asking for trouble, in any language.

Representatives of the Irish Government don’t sit on a panel of interested parties on a topical chat show in the UK or in Northern Ireland and claim that we don’t care what they do. Neither do Republicans march the streets of London with photographs of Catholic victims of Unionist and Sectarian murder. Why? Partly because we don’t see the point, but mostly because we’ve outgrown the childish nature of the marchers.

Ireland, the Republic of the People, is famous throughout the world for St. Patrick’s Day. Parades celebrating the Welsh saint can be seen in New York City and in Hong Kong. Even London and the North of Ireland celebrate this saint whom we know so little about, few even realising he was a Welsh child sold into slavery. But we disregard the country and the creed to celebrate an international holiday, and yes, it involves walking down the streets of capital cities across the world. The difference is, we’re not looking for attention or to stir up trouble doing it.

Marching is a militaristic activity, one we will celebrate on Easter Sunday when we commemorate the 1916 rising. While I don’t condone military parades, I think the message of what Ireland is about is being skewed by this parade. Ireland owes a lot to Britain in terms of trade, common markets and simple things like the common travel area that allows free movement of labour between the UK and here. The Proclamation Declaration as read out on that morning in 1916 was a quick fix after Michael Collins signed the death warrant of hundreds of people in Northern Ireland when he accepted 26 counties instead of 32. Fair enough, he may not have had much choice but it’s time now to press on and re-unite the 32 counties.

Having people come from a place that detests our vibrant economy and our democratic republic to march on our streets and effectively ask for us to bow our heads in shame is simply a slap in the face for the 90% or so of Irish people who could do nothing to stop the violence in the North of Ireland, and who wished every day of their lives that it would end.

As for the violence, it was unwarranted. It was exaggerated and it was provoked! Let us not forget that it was provoked on both sides, by the symbolism of the march and the narrow-mindedness of some individuals who draped the tricolour around their necks and threw paving bricks at the Keepers of the Peace.

If you throw fuel on a fire what does it do?!

diarmy