The rumors started just after he won the election strange happenings at his rallies the blind seeing the deaf hearing the lame walking the mute talking he began to take credit for the sun coming up.
Then those stories out of Mar A Lago how at one banquet he turned bread rolls into fried chicken and at another he turned water into Coca Cola then there was the time he walked across a pond to retrieve his golf ball and fishing.. don’t talk to me about fishing the people of Florida are lining up to go fishing with Donald.
Yes, our song “Willie’s Oasis” has been played on the radio, RTE Radio One (Ireland). The show is Country Time, host Brian Lally , and he has some very generous things to say about the song. Here’s the link.
This is one tedious, depressing mess of a movie with a gruesome, ludicrous, arbitrary with a capital A plot twist worthy of the third season of some schlocky Netflix series when the writers have run out of ideas.
It opens with Colin Farrell walking along a windswept cliff in the west of Ireland, in the early 1920’s. He’s dressed like he’s doing a fashion spread for GQ ( “Paddy Chic”). He has a twenty first century haircut, dyed jet black, combed forward, no parting at the side! And his eyebrows are trimmed! He plays one of the main characters, a dimwitted Irish farmer who’s in love with his donkey (the movie was written and directed by an Englishman, Martin McDonagh….I’m just sayin’). Naturally, he’s on his way to the pub even though it’s only 2 in the afternoon. He goes to the pub a lot. The pub is of course populated by the usual stock characters, Sean O’ Garrulity and Sean Mac Stereotype and yes, at one point, Una Ni Mournful sings a maudlin ballad.
As for that plot twist, it involves self mutilation. Why? Shock value? Yes. Lazy writing? Yes. McDonagh does nothing to make us believe that the character is capable of the act.
Colin Farrell and Kerry Condon, and in particular, Barry Keoghan do their best with it and there are some laughs, but rural Irish dysfunction and loneliness have been done a hundred times over and a lot better than this.
I’m sitting in a café smoking a Gitane yes, I’m sitting in a café smoking a Gitane I’m reading Jean Paul Sartre and wondering who I am.
Existential boogie do that existential thing you can do it in your armchair summer, autumn, winter, spring.
If you’re looking for an answer don’t ask Albert Camus yes, if you’re looking for an answer don’t ask Albert Camus that dude’s been dead a long time he can’t tell you what to do
Existential boogie do that existential thing you can do it in your armchair summer, autumn, winter, spring
And don’t talk to me about Immanuel Kant yes, don’t talk to me about Immanuel Kant well I know that you want to but you can’t
Existential boogie do that existential thing you can do it in your armchair summer, autumn, winter, spring
and some people like to quote Martin Heidegger yes, some people like to quote Martin Heidegger well, all I can say is go figure
Existential boogie do that existential thing you can do it in your armchair summer, autumn, winter, spring
Rene Descartes said I think therefore I am yes, old Rene, he said I think therefore I am well, I call that a beginning I sure don’t call that a plan.
Existential boogie do that existential thing you can do it in your armchair summer, autumn, winter, spring.
America has given birth
to a giant orange child
a zaftig infant Gulliver
striding the ravaged earth
of his own imagination
trampling whole villages
swallowing villagers whole.
This poem was published previously in Oddball Magazine. Taking Part in Open Link Weekend over at earthweal.