It has begun

I've just received an open letter from Dr John Hegarty, Provost of Trinity College, on the "financial situation", now that the IMF have arrived and that Ireland plc is officially bankrupt.

In one sense, it makes for grim reading, as even here in the oasis of the university, the time has come to batten down the hatches; there is some very stormy weather ahead. On the other hand however, it is provides a shred of optimism; that with commitment and good leadership, we will find a way to work ourselves out of this mess.

Make up your own mind:

Dear Staff and Students

You are all aware from the media reports that the country is facing challenges which require drastic action on every front and we as a university will have our part to play.

Given the crucial role which high-quality university education will play in bringing the country out of recession, I am hopeful that the case I and the other University Presidents have been making for the past number of years at government level will be reflected in the best case budget for the sector. In my view it would be fatal to cut-back to a point where we cannot even deliver our core mission. Other countries have invested in education and research in their worst moments.

I presented a paper to the Board of the College at its meeting on 10 November in which several scenarios for the Colleges finances for the next five years were presented. A worst case and best case scenario were outlined which ranged from a 20% to 10% cut in the government allocation (core grant plus free fees allocation) resulting in a cut in money terms ranging from €20m (worst case) to €10m (best case) by 2013 over the 2010 level. If allowance is made for an expected downturn in research income and its contribution to overhead costs, and the additional costs that must be factored in for new space are taken into account, the funding available to the College will decrease by a further €10m. Either scenario represents an enormous problem and one that cannot be managed without drastic and far-reaching action.

There is one very positive point in our favour. We are in the fortunate position that, due to prudent management under our new central structures, the College has no budgetary deficit thereby positioning it in a relatively strong position to address the current funding crisis.

In considering the financial projections as presented, the Board agreed that we must take every step within our control to secure the College’s future financial viability. We must consider all actions that can be embedded into the system with a long-term impact without undermining the core mission. Once-off funding may be used in the initial period to off-set the expected decrease in government funding of our activities. The College’s actions will focus on: (a) increasing revenue from non exchequer sources: a number of sources are being considered, including increased recruitment of fee-paying students, and enhanced philanthropy and commercialisation activities; (b) cutting costs by ceasing activities and/or by introducing greater efficiencies in the use of staff resources, supported in large measure by the completion of the College’s estrategy programme.

The Board agreed that my management team, including the Executive Officer Group and its Planning Group, will look at all options to secure the College’s financial future. This work has now started and a process of consultation with Heads of School, Heads of administrative and support areas, and student representatives is underway to seek solutions and mechanisms to address the financial crisis. I would also like to engage the whole community. To this end I will hold a number of public fora at the beginning of December to further discuss the situation and to solicit your suggestions.

The impact of the financial situation on the quality of teaching and the overall student experience is a cause of grave concern and I am extremely appreciative of the efforts being made by staff in all areas of the College to cope with the reduced staff numbers already taking place over the last two years. My colleagues in the IUA and I have been working actively with the HEA and the Department of Education and Skills to find solutions and to secure the best possible arrangements for the College within the context of the Employment Control Framework.

It is inevitable that personal cuts in pay, the current lack of promotional opportunities, the prospect of increased student charges as well as the adverse nature of much public commentary will have an impact on the morale of our College community, but there is also a resilience and a determination to succeed that is helping us to achieve our goals and to meet our obligations, notwithstanding the unprecedented extent of the current national crisis. By creative planning and looking at all options – short and long term – I am optimistic that we can seize the opportunities offered by the current crisis and emerge stronger and very well placed to contribute to the country’s inevitable recovery.

I hope that the government in whatever form will not take such steps as to fatally damage the system.

John Hegarty

Provost

Links fahren!

This was spotted on Google Streetview. It's funny, 'cause there used to be a similar sign on the tiny bóithrín that my sister lived on during her first year in college. Her road, An Sruthán, was located about a kilometre short of An Cheathrú Rua itself. Galway County Council had, in their eternal wisdom, put a 60kmph speed limit on the road betweeen Casla and An Cheathrú Rua, despite it being a good quality, paved, national secondary route. To turn onto An Sruthán, a driver must come around a bend, stop, and then turn right at a 110 degree angle (backing on to oneself) over a small humpback bridge, onto a boithrín with grass growing in the middle. As this meant that the driver had left the main road, which had a 60kmph speed limit, they were greeted by two shiny signs on either sign of the grassy lane which proudly proclaimed 80kmph!

Finally, a bit of sense.

Here's a copy of a Tweet from Fine Gael TD, Nora Owen. I've never met Nora, but she does seem to have a nice practicality about her, like a long standing member of the ICA.

“Will no one tell Enda (a good and decent man) to go quietly and gracefully? A new energetic team needed. (keep Ml Noonan)”

At least she seems to have some amount of cop on, thank God. Poor Inda, he really seems determined to be Taoiseach, like a petulant five-year-old who is throwing tantrums until he has his turn. It kind of has echoings of Gordon Brown's insistance that he must become Prime Minster, simply because he had waited and waited and now it was his turn. And we all know how that worked out...

It's kind of pathetic really, poor Inda doesn't seem to get that his chance came and went. Imagine that it was an American teen movie. The Irish electorate (Ireland) are the hot girl that everyone wants to get into bed with; Inda was the slightly odd character who just wasn't cool enough for her, and when he asked her out on a date, Ireland said "no".

Not that Inda isn't a great guy, and sure Ireland would have been very lucky to have him, had she have realized it at the time, but sure she was getting loads of attention from the class jock, Fianna Fáil. Now Fianna Fáil was an exploitative dickhead, and Ireland knew that, but sure she got into bed with him anyway. Now, Ireland has discovered that she's in major trouble due to her involvement with Fianna Fáil, but it's too late; they were the choices that she made.

Now Inda has come to prominence as leader of the Sci-Fi Soc or some similar obscure society within campus, which gives him an inflated sense of his own importance, yet most outsiders continue to view him with utter disdain. And he's still desperately trying to get in with Ireland, despite plenty of hints that she simply isn't interested. Meanwhile Inda continues unabated, simultaneously being both mocked and pitied by all who witness the spectacle. Sound familiar?

So maybe Nora Owen should invite Inda around for a nice cup of tea, and gently break the news that he's not going to be the next Taoiseach. He'll probably be devastated, as most five-year-olds are when there are told that they are not going to the zoo, but he'll eventually realize that it was never to be. He won't get a trip to the Áras; but eventually, he'll probably see that it's for the best.

Legionnaire's Testimonial

My friend Stephen keeps an excellent blog. Yesterday, I became the subject of one of his postings. He said some very nice things about me, which is very unusual for Ireland; great nation of begrudgers that we are. I texted him about it afterwards and he said that it was a "tribute".

In Ireland, generally tributes are only made after death, to ensure that there is no chance of the compliment actually being heard by the receiver; so it's lovely to hear nice things said about oneself without being laid out cold in the front room.

Anyway, if you would like to read what Stephen said about me, click here.

It's coming

Next Thursday week, we will have equinox, when it is exactly twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. For me, this conjours the image of a spinning coin tipping on it's edge, getting ready to fall; a fall that will bring us into the long nights of winter. And like night follows day, like it or not, winter is coming.

As with all inevitable things in life, we have the option of trying to ignore and then begrudge them once their reality is forced upon us, or we can celebrate them. It's heartwarming to see that people are still celebrating the equinox at the passage tombs of Lough Crew, County Meath. For it is at the passage tombs of Lough Crew that the rising and the setting sun illuminates the inner chambers of the burial mounds, (one facing due east; one facing due west) five thousand years after our ancestors built them. I've never been there myself, but D Reilly assures me that it's worth an early start for.

This is an Irish Times photo presentation of the Spring Equinox, last March; and just listening to it gives me the tingles. Don't get me wrong; I'm far from thrilled at the prospect of another damp, cold, miserable Irish winter, but this is inevitable. It's coming: get over it. So this gives me two choices; I can either try my best at blithely ignoring it, and still end up waking up one day to find that's is dismally cold, utterly inclement and pitch dark at 8.30am; or I can wrap up, put on my coat and boots and climb an ancient hill at dawn to welcome the winter.

If all of this talk of winter darkness depresses you, I urge you to take to heart the simple, yet profound, words of Ok Go: "Let it go. This too shall pass". For on Wednesday, 23 March, we'll have another chance to traipse to Lough Crew; this time to welcome the summer.

Anglo Irish Relations

In Ireland, we are prone to gripe on about our neighbours from across the water with mumbles of "700 years..." And in fact, at least for the last 200 years or so of that period, a large part of our cultural identity has evolved around the nature of the relationship between Ireland and Britain; in other words - Anglo Irish relations. For example, we had the Anglo Irish War of 1919 to 1921 (also known as the Tan War, or the War of Independence). We had the Anglo Irish Treaty of 1922, granting the Irish Free State, and then in the 1985 we had the Anglo Irish Agreement, between Lady Thatcher and Grandpa Garrett Fitzgerald. So the words Anglo Irish are rather official and important, given our recent history, and they generally deal with "the English" being difficult, mainly over relinquishing parts of their empire.

However during last two years, the words Anglo Irish have come to mean something else; once more, they are a national preoccupation. However this time, the source of the trouble is not the English, but rather one of our own - Anglo Irish Bank. Like many people, I confess to being somewhat cloudy as to who exactly Anglo Irish are, why they got into the mess that they are in, and more importantly, why the Irish taxpayer is paying their debts. If Brian Lenehan were to introduce a levy on the words "Anglo Irish Bank" with one euro to be collected for each utterance, it is quite likely that RTÉ alone would be fined sufficiently to balance the flailing bank's balance books by the end of the autumn schedule. But for all of the bandying about of those three little words, how much do we actually understand about what is going on? Do you, like me, just need someone to sit down and explain it, slowly, in nice plain English?

Well if you do, you're in luck. Thankfully, the Irish Times has presented us with a Crash Course on Anglo Irish Bank.

Leave a stagelamp burning

It was with great sadness that I learned of the death of Mick Lally yesterday. He died, suddenly, at the age of 64.

For me, Mick Lally had always been Miley in Glenroe, "Ah, Holy God" and to be frank, there wasn't much there to talk about. It wasn't until I listened to him being interviewed one morning by Miriam O'Callaghan that I was surprised to learn a bit more about what I would soon see was truly fascinating character. I was subsequently lucky enough to hear him interviewed a second time, this time with Glenroe co-star, Mary McEvoy.

These interviews shed some light on the upbringing of Mick Lally. He was the child of a poor peasant farmer from the Mayo Gaeltacht. But for a relation in had sent money home from America, he never would have had the chance to go to secondary school. Listening to him speak, he never lost sight of that; how all of the opportunity in his life arose due to the quiet generosity of one man.

Fintan O'Toole writes an obituary today in the Irish Times, listing some of Lally's great achievements. Now most of the stuff happened before I was born, or I was too small or disinterested to take notice. The conclusion is that Lally was a giant of a man, both physically and metaphorically; but he was a quiet and humble giant. At sixty four, his death was far too sudden; sure, wasn't he due to be on stage next week. Like that, I only heard him being interviewed a few weeks ago, and he never mentioned dying.

My thoughts are with his family, and with those whom he loved, and who loved him. May he rest in peace.

His and hers

I'd heard a lot of good things about a new Irish film called "His and Hers" and I was really hoping to catch it before it left the cinema. So when the Lighthouse emailed me to say that they were still showing it, I informed Stephen that I was bringing him to the pictures.

It was fantastic. Stephen laughed and cried, poor thing. It was really really good. I'm so glad when a thing lives up to one's expectations... Not only that, but it was Stephen's first time in the Lighthouse. He loved it, which I'm thrilled about as it's my favourite piece of modern architecture in Dublin and I like when non-architects feel the same way I do about a building.

Anyway, here's the trailer for it here. It's wonderful to watch; perhaps even better to watch, having seen the film.

It's still showing in the Lighthouse for the rest of the week. Grab it while you can. It's worth it.

It's in

Well it's gone through the Seanad. Civil Partnership is the new reality. We just need Mary to sign it in up at the Áras so that other Marys can sign up and take it up the...

I would like to quote a senior civil servant (who shall remain anonymous) who rather tongue-in-cheek announced that [he] "welcomes the passing of the Civil Partnership Bill and encourages married people everywhere to downgrade their marriages to Civil Partnerships in the name of equality!"

Also I'd like to thank Rachel for this rather succinct and disturbing summation of the differences between Civil Partnership in Ireland and Civil Partnership (effectively marriage in all but name in the UK):

"The civil partnership here is a lot different to the one in the UK. Here we only really have succession and kinship rights. We arent allowed be considered a family, or adopt, or even be considered a step-parent. Even if we marry abroad those marriages wont be recognised the minute we step off the plane. We will no longer be spouses; we will be considered to be civil partners."

Now if you've road frontage and you're interested in sharing, please send a CP and stamped addressed envelope to the Legion...

Dear John

I was tuned in to the Seanad listening to the Civil Partnership debate, when that particularly pernicious cyst (and brother of Mary Hanafin) John Hanafin, got to his feet. The tirade of hatred that followed was nauseating. So much so, that I decided to to write him a little letter:

Dear John

I'm currently listening to you speak in the Seanad. Part of me feels disgusted at your bigotry, and I'm appalled that a man like you could think that you represent the people of Ireland. However the bigger part, the more Christian part, of me feels pity for you. Why are you so afraid John? Why are gay people such a threat to you?

If you cannot find it in your heart to support this bill, I hope you enjoy the being outside the door of your beloved party. Should you fail to support the bill, I hope that leaves you standing somewhere that not even the crows can shit on you.

Regards,

Marcus

This is Anne Doyle. I am the news.

(Thanks Tom.)

Acting on Conscience

On Thursday, our glorious legislators finally passed the Civil Partership Bill, something that they have been threatening to do since the Dead Sea was only sick. The rights (or lack of) and wrongs of the Bill have been discussed by others in other fora, prior to this, and I'm not going to launch into a few blown Pro or Anti Treaty debate right now; that's not for here, as Marjorie Dawes would say.

However, I find it interesting that the aul' bigots (20 or so - which out of a country of 4 million people, is a good showing) spoke out to say that the new law would actually criminalize registrars who fail to conduct the ceremony. The particularly sad individual pictured is a man called Sean Burke, from Mayo. My nanna is from Mayo. She has always maintained that "the best people are from Mayo". In this case, I think she'd be ashamed of her fellow countyman.

Seán travelled from Mayo with his wife and five of his 10 children in protest. He is outraged at the Dáil for “they’re giving legal sanction to something God has forbidden,” Funnily enough I thought that the remit of Dáil Éireann was to represent and legislate in the interests of the citizens of the Irish Republic, not pander to the whims of a divine being that may or may not exist. However, I desist. Interestingly he picks up on the penalties that will be imposed for failure to comply with the legislation. “Also, it’s making people who disagree criminals . . . a registrar would be fined €2,000 or jailed for six months if they refuse, even on conscience, to do something that they believe is wrong.”

This is quite interesting. The way that I look at it, there are plenty of people who get married who probably shouldn't get married. I'm sure that every country registrar, from Borris to Ballina, has come across couples where he or she goes "Oh oh, that's not a good idea." However, the registrar is not there to advise, or to pass judgement, or to sanctify who is or is not worthy to marry whom. They are simply there to provide a civil service. They are public servants, serving in this case as an invigilator to make sure that the ceremony is carried out according to the law. You can be damned sure that they judge each and every couple that come before them; consider it a perk of the job! I'm sure plenty of them officiate over a marriage that they personally believe is wrong, for various reasons (rarely religious, one would think), however we do not pay them to for their opinions. Their opinions and their values are their own, but the service that they provide belongs to us.

Third Base

On Wednesday I milked a cow; well two cows actually*. Or more, I stuck vacuum pumps to their nipples and hoped for the best. Now Frank had warned me that cows aren’t great with strangers, for they are creatures of habit and all strangers may be the vet; and they don’t like the vet. This results in nervous cows.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a milking parlour but the set up is simple enough. There’s a pit in the centre of the floor and the operator stands in this, with all of the apparatus at about shoulder height for him, or udder height for our milky moos. The pit is encased with bars, so the cows can’t kick you; “but they can shit on you” as Frank so eloquently pointed out.

Now, Dan was going about the milking, for he normally goes about the milking, when myself and Frank arrived into the pit. Cue nervous cows. Also, it’s important to remember that the pit is sunken, so the cows, each weighing more than a tonne, are racked above us.

Frank showed me how the nipply thing worked; turn on the switch and and hold up upside down to get the vacuum going and then just stick it on to the tit. Fair enough. I was a wee bit nervous about sticking unwieldy piece of equipment onto this large female’s mammary glands, and cows can sense that you’re nervous. Cue even more nervous cows...

Cue shitworks! From across the pit, Daisy lifted her tail; right up in the air it went. And then she let rip. Mother Immaculate, I’ve never see anything like it. Imagine the flow of liquid of an average good, strong human piss, now multiply that, so that the flow is about in inch in diameter. Now replace piss with horrific cow shite. Suddenly a fountain of slurry was arcing out of this animal’s arse and splashing into the pit. I screamed. Frank rapidly silenced me, or they’d all be at it.

It was a close call. Had I have been standing a foot to the left, I would have had the most atrocious power shower known to man. So what can we learn from this - don’t milk nervous cows.

*These two animals were successfully milked with absolutely no shit explosions and this milk was collected by the creamery and is now hopefully sitting on a supermarket shelf somewhere in a nice Avonmore carton.

Eurovision Countdown 5

Niamh Kavanagh. Cork. 1993

In Your Eyes

This is the first Eurovision that I actually remember. I would have been seven at the time, if I actually aged.

I particularly enjoyed the wee video of Niamh (in double-denim, no less) going for a walk, shearing a sheep and then calling into Peig Sayers and Co. for a little carding. Then she sits at a loom, like a total plóta, and watches in earnest as another delightful double denim outfit is churned out by Donegal tweed, but sure, that's how RTE depicted Ireland to the Euromasses back in the day.

Anyway, sartorial choices aside, the song is absolute amazing. Niamh looks gorgeous and her voice is striking. Let's hope that she can do it again this evening, and that she can do it when it counts, on Saturday.

Eurovision Countdown 4

Linda Martin. Malmo. 1982

Why Me?

Poor ould Linda. She's irrepressible. Like herpes, there's no cure and she refuses to go away. Linda has participated in the National Song Contest (A Song for Ireland, as Father Ted would put it) nine times. Oh yes, Linda graced our screens in as part of an act called Chips in '76, '77, '78, '82, each time defeated.

She won as a solo artist in '84, with Terminal 3 - a song that eventually came second to a song called Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley. A national travesty! Funnily enough, Dublin Airport still only has one terminal, something which is actually a national travesty!

She was back again in a song for Ireland in '86, '89, '90, and once again she qualified, finally, in 1992. In short, she's a Eurovision junkie. One could make up a rhyme about featuring the words Eurovision and skag, and then finding words to rhyme with it, but that would be naughty. Suffice to say, she's our Eurovision heroin(e).

She scored a massive high in 1992 with Why Me? It's believed that the withdrawel symptoms, when they eventually occur, will not be pleasant.

Eurovision Countdown 3

Mr Logan is back, this time in Belgium.

Johnny Logan. Brussels. 1987

Hold me now

Eurovision Countdown 2

Johnny Logan. The Netherlands. 1980

What's Another Year

This is the actual winning performance by Johnny in 1980. I love Thelma Mansfield's bit as Gaeilge at the start. She dishes all the dirt on him. He was 24! So cute!

Eurovision Countdown 1

Dana. Oslo 1970

All Kinds of Everything

And here's Dana, in a bit of bawneen. Look at the video of Dublin in 1970. Not a soul to be seen.

Leonard Cohen Bingo

My tickets for Leonard Cohen arrived today. Myself and James are off to see him in Lissadell house on 1 August. We've still got two spare tickets if there are any takers. Should be an amazing concert.

Unfortunately one cannot embed his videos, but here's a link to Closing Time. I think it would be a great number for Panti to do, as part of her Country and Western (yes, she likes both types of music) Set.

And I thought that it would be nice to play a little game of Leonard Cohen Bingo.

For this example, first we take Manhattan, New York. A great city in a great nation, which as we all know is a democracy. Were we to go dancing in New York, you might suggest that we dance to the end of love, in a nightclub called the tower of song. If might say to you. "Would you like to take this waltz, cause if you would, I'm your man. Although you'd better hurry up cause everybody knows it's nearly closing time."

Follow the leader

This is Olivia O'Leary's Drivetime radio column from this evening. RTE claim that the podcasts are available on their website, but in reality, the latest available podcast aired on the 13th April.

I want an election. It struck me with a bang this morning that I really, really want an general election. I don’t think I have ever in my life felt so helpless, so excluded from massive decisions for which I and mine will pay for generations; so unable to have my voice as an ordinary citizen heard. I cannot count the number of times I have heard friends over recent weeks who have said that the lie awake a night worrying, trying to count the cost of policies with which they utterly disagree but feeling powerless to influence any of this. But sure who wants to listen to me, they say.

Well, we’ll have to be listened to at election time. It’s the one time in the utterly centralised system of democracy which operates in this country, that the citizens get their chance to speak. There was a time that I would have argued that an election would have been too distracting at a time of national crisis. I’m not beginning to think that it is the only thing which will allow us to address what has happened to us as a country, and try to put it right.

I want an election, and I want a Taoiseach who wants to be Taoiseach. I have never felt that’s true of Brian Cowen. I think he’s a decent man, straighter than his predecessor, but I have always felt that he viewed the premiership as a bit of unwelcome palaver, which accompanied his more important job as leader of Fianna Fáil. He has never really tried to stretch out beyond that tribe, to use the real warmth and engagement which is so obvious at a personal level, to make a connection with the people he governs. There’s a “take it, or leave it” surliness about his public persona. He could have done something about that. He chose not to.

Just like Gordon Brown, who came out to the cameras outside Number 10, Downing Street yesterday to announce his eventual resignation and then turned and walked back into Number 10. And I felt no sense of regret as I watched because it seemed to me that Gordon’s back was the view that most people had of him during his period as prime minister. Gordon’s back, or Gordon’s averted face as though Number 10 was his long overdue right and he didn’t have any need to make an effort with, or overtures to, the electorate.

Time and again I heard interviewers give him space to connect with the people. To paint his view of Britain. “Look at my record” was all he would say smugly. Yeah, well, they did.

Elections give you a chance to say what you do or don’t agree with, and there is so much going here with which people do not agree. The initial decision to guarantee the banks, including hopeless institutions like Anglo Irish Bank and Irish Nationwide. The decision to stop the inquiry into the banking crisis short of those dates which would cover its political dimension. The wishful thinking by government that the recapitalised banks would provide credit to SMEs. The pointless hemorrhaging of tax-payers money into Anglo Irish Bank. The elaborate banks and developers’ plan which is NAMA, but no plan at all, as Matt Cooper pointed out in his contribution to the Aftershock programme last night, no plan at all to help the homeowners in negative equity - the very people on who’s backs economic recovery and future tax revenues depend.

Oh yes, I think I’d like to vote on some of those issues, thank you. Just as I’d like to have my say on the scandal of corporate funding of political parties and the question that raises over so many of the disastrous property related tax break policies which subsequently undermined our whole economy.

When you’ve been in power for too long, you stop governing and you spend your time defending your record. Because you cannot admit the mistakes you made, you cannot set about putting things right. You become the problem. Elections allow for the stables to be properly cleaned out. The resulting government could still include Fianna Fáil but perhaps not those who have a vested interest in defending the status quo.

Who knows what combination the electorate would return? But at least those seeking power would have to debate with us the massive commitments that are being made in our name. At least we’d be able to raise our heads and interrupt, even for a short time, the tramp of financial jackboots across our backs. At least, for a very short while, they would have to listen to us.

Olivia O’Leary