I was at home in the country for the past fortnight, and as a result of having no broadband (thank you Eircom!), my management of the mecridia empire slipped somewhat.
However, rest assured, diarmydotnet is now back and on-track to receive some well-needed updates.
Stay tuned kids!
diarmy
It’s been a few days ago now since my last exam at University inflicted its two-hour grip upon my consciousness, and it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. While it may be the end of my University-led lifestyle, the outset looks rather bleak. Faced with the inevitability of entering society as a fully-fledged tax-payer and subsequent contributor to Ireland’s economic growth, I’ve yet to secure employment in a company I’m willing to work with.
However, that’s not necessarily the most important focus of attention at present, as my much-mused end to the 19 years spent within the confines of the Irish Education System still continue to scar my thoughts, as the D-Day of June 16th approaches - the day on which I will be told how well or how bad I did overall.
Even less important perhaps is that particular result, as I’m heading into a world where a degree qualification is desired but is a pre-requisite to experience. In an Ireland of growth and prosperity, graduates had a good time of it chasing down jobs. However Ireland has changed much since 2002 when the decline began.
The Ireland of today has little time for graduates. Job vacancies fill the pages of newspapers and virtual media, with experience taking precedence over knowledge and ability. The Curriculum Vitae, the battle plan for interviews across the country, is now merely glanced at amidst a flurry of applications in Human Resources departments throughout our island, as the section detailing past experience is the only concern. Without a reputable company listed, with a deserving previous job title seeming to be the only beacon to passing the initial screening of applicants.
So how is it that we, graduates, find it so hard to get jobs? One could point to the lack of sufficient investment in new recruits in business today. Few employers have the time nor the patience to train and up-skill new workers, and opt for previously hacked and washed-up so-called experienced players over the new and fresh legs. It’s a dog-eat-dog world you might say, but throw me a frickin bone and I’ll show you how it’s done! Give me a chance to get my experience. After all, I’ve spent summers cleaning toilets, stacking shelves, making sandwiches, parking cars, guarding property and turning away ponces and scumbags from nightclubs. I’ve a varied background. I’m a renaissance man. I’m poor….
diarmy
I’ve written about it before, and it seemed to have no affect (not surprisingly), but the state of the Irish Postal Service (An Post) needs to be seriously redesigned. Today, I ventured into the Post Office at Daingean Uí Chúis’s Main Street. It was approximately 17:15 when I wandered past the front entrance and followed the awkward layout of the convenience stands to get to the core of the operation, quietly nested to the rear of the building.
There I was, bubble-packed, clearly-addressed and neatly presented envelope in one hand, the car keys and a €10 note in the other (of which I didn’t expect to receive much in return!). It’s a Monday afternoon and things are quiet (they rarely get out of hand around here) and the mood is one of silent stagnation, as I and the lady behind me quietly pray for a quick service in order to get well clear of the place. Instead, we were treated to the spectacle of a local businessman taking his sweet time to mail several packages (all of which contained expensive items on mail order) and going through the arduous process of manually writing addresses for insurance purposes.
This carried on for some time, with the monotonous male shape behind the perspex barricade slowly processing the parcels and finally collecting payment on them. The time was now 17:29. I approached the desk toward the young man franticly pushing on the touch-screen. I placed my envelope under the jail-house security fence and asked for a registered postal service. The man carried on, unaware seemingly that customers were waiting, and money was to be made.
He then announced, vociferously, that the computer system was shutting down operations because it was 17:30. Therefore, I would have to until the morning to process the post. When asked why, he simply replied that the computer system wouldn’t let him do it because it was beyond 17:30!
How is it that in a country with more 24hr Supermarkets than family planning clinics, and more trucks than ever on our roads speeding franticly from coast to coast unaware of the speed limits imposed upon them with no accountability, we must have a postal system that has employed a computer system that shuts down at 17:30 each day??! It’s preposterous to imagine that in a commercially viable company, that customers would be turned away from the desk at 30 minutes before the end of the normal business day! Especially in one where I had most of the work done already (envelope sealed, address written and transport to the post office arranged.)
This is the problem with Government-run bodies. They don’t care how the service is delivered because as long as the perceived existence of such services are substansiated, there is no need to actually perform - because at the end of the day the money is in the account every Friday! Government (and I perish the day Fine Gael are elected) should not run companies - but merely own the infrastructure and lease operations to private companies. Simple solution - call is the “Diarmy Model for Economic Sustainability and Profit Maximistation for Semi-State and Wholly-State-Owned Companies in a Democratic Environment for the Benefit of Shareholders or Citizens”, or the “Stop Pissing Away Money” model for short!
diarmy
Every year, it’s likened to a religious cult. People from all over the world go to Sheffield to get a chance to watch snooker’s most impressive players battle it out for the World Championship title at the Crucible. This year was no different with greats like Drago, Hendry and White leaving early as newcomers such as Day and Robertson surpassed legends like Davis and Parrott.
The annual feast of snooker dished out in excellent and unrivalled quality by the BBC (take note RTE) is one of the sheer tele-visual delights that keep me glued to the box. Unfortunately they seem to land on the time of exams for me and somewhat curtail my study time. But nevertheless, I made a special effort this year to follow as much as I could, watching masters such as Jimmy White and Steve Davis bow out to newcomers and comers-of-age.
The most boring man in snooker was himself, on top form. Peter Ebdon was not afraid to impart his lifestyle to the cameras this year, indulging the reporters with news of his move to Dubai, his marathon 1-mile a day swimming and of course, how great he felt and how he would win the world title again. To be honest, I’ve no time for the man - he’s the most annoying person to watch playing the game.
Newcomer Graeme Dott was full of enthusiasm too as he battled his way to the semi finals to beat off Ronnie O’Sullivan for a place in the final. Ronnie, who had been dogged by cue-tip problems throughout the series, put away two frames after one another in 12 minutes and 9 minutes respectively! A testament to his 1997 clearance of 147 in 5 minutes 20 seconds.
Last night however, Dott and Edbon (or ‘Ebbo the Great’ as he’s apparently known as) battled it out in the longest Crucible match in history. One frame lasted over 75 minutes, and subsequently ruined any chances of enjoying the climax of what was a brilliant 2 weeks of snooker. Ebdon was back to his old tricks of cueing 10 times before striking the white, taking as long as humanly possible to set up each shot. Dott was by no means any better, often striking the cue ball without realising where it would end up.
The two engaged in many tumultuous ‘tit-for-tat’ battles that just made the game unbelievably boring. You could sense the need for someone like O’Sullivan or White to magically do something that only someone with balls could - take a shot on for old times sake and hope to make it safe. That was the fundamental problem with the World Final - there was no natural flow to the game. At each point, as Ebdon fell further and further behind, he kept coming back to the table to impossible odds only to prolong the inevitable. There was no spark, no charisma and definitely no excitement.
When the hour finally came at 00:44 when Dott kissed the trophy after scoring the frame ball (a bit cocky and un-gentlemanly) the audience were awoken from their slumber by the honorary guests sat at the front clapping to praise the young Scot on a battle fought averagely. Ebdon was full of praise and obvious anger and the crowd couldn’t wait for Ray Stubbs to sign off as the applause seemed a mere formality before fumbling for the car keys and hoping to get home before the sleep crept up on them.
Overall, it was dismal. Boring, uninteresting, lacking spirit and generally undecided - as most people couldn’t decide who they’d rather win. Neither player struck much in the form of a twinkle with me or anyone I know who watched it. At lease Shaun Murphy didn’t win again - too much cockiness in that boy.
diarmy
Taking a break from the routine of watching television and feeling guilty about not studying, but then realising how boring studying can be and finding something interesting to watch on television instead, I’ve decided to put my fingers to good use and impart today’s gripe with the world.
All day, American television news channels are covering the “Day without Immigrants” marches throughout the North American continent. Now while many if not all of the rest of the world couldn’t give a toss, I’ve decided to say something about it.
America is a country “built by the Irish, run by the Italians and owned by the Mafia”. While simple in its delivery, this turn of phrase so commonly used in the United States, points to a simple and inalienable truth: America is a country with no heritage – aside from native Americans who for the most part, have been wiped out by redneck yanks. But America is a country founded by foreigners. Ever since St. Brendan discovered the continent (and yes, an Irish man was first!), Christopher Columbus was awe-struck by the idea that there was a country without end on the horizon. Quick to realise that St. Brendan had been too humble to lay claim to the country, Columbus headed off in search of the new world, only to find the West Indies. Along came Amerigo Ves Pucci, who found the continent, named it after himself, and plundered its riches.
Since then, Europe has colonised the massive land mass, more notably when the British Empire decided it wanted not just a piece of the action, but the whole thing. After the American War of Independence, everyone was free to explore the country, and the land rush quickly saw large chunks of the country being swallowed up by land grabbers desperate to find gold.
Therefore, America isn’t that old. Unlike Paris, it does not have magnificent cathedrals and museums dating back to the 1600s, because there wasn’t much left in America after the War. Since then, America has carried on its warring traditions, with the Civil War, the Race War, the War on Terror and so forth. It’s basically a war-loving continent. Even its constitution has an amendment to it stating that each citizen has the right to bear arms. Madness!
So getting back to the point, the US was built and founded and found by Europeans and particularly Irish people. Now our descendants have forgotten their ancestors, and fallen in love with a flag that seems to be the international symbol for tyranny. In the US today, many political obscurities are voicing their opinions and saying things like “We need to tighten our borders” and “Laws are made on Capitol Hill, not on the streets”. This is the typical voice of America today – completely out of touch with the people. Immigrants have as much a right to live and work in America as they do here in Ireland. In fact, one such figure purports that approximately 5% of the US workforce is made up of illegal immigrants.
America, get your head out of your ass (i.e. the Republican Madhouse – sorry, “Government”) and remember your roots. Where would you be without us? Who’s your daddy??
diarmy
