A night with David Norris

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=NMKQRNwuQ9g

I was late for David Norris at Colaiste Feirste last night but I’d no bother finding the room where he was performing: the rolling, booming tones were unmistakable and echoed down the hallways. He was being interviewed by William Crawley as part of Féile an Earraigh, and over 90+ minutes he was incorrigible. A question - or sometimes no question - would set him off, and anytime Crawley tried to intervene, the Dublin senator would place a restraining hand on the BBC man’s arm or knee and keep rolling along at full volume. 

He was there promoting his book A Kick Against the Pricks, but you could tell his heart was in his own performance rather than gaining sales. He grabbed at Crawley, he stood up, he shook hands with an audience member and told that meant they were now lovers, he imitated the mincing walk and high-pitched voice of gay men he knew, he slid in double entendre after double entendre. It was like watching Frankie Howerd with a beard and a posh Dublin accent. 

Much of the time was spent telling the audience about the lies and smears the media invented against him during his presidential candidacy (see clip above). Other times he spoke of his love of the British monarchy, imitated an encounter he had with Princess Anne’s husband, claimed blood-relationship with just about every earl and nobleman in Ireland back to St Patrick. It was an over-the-top, occasionally hilarious one-man show. During the questions-from-the-audience bit, I asked him what he thought of the media’s treatment of Martin McGuinness during his presidential bid. As with nearly every question asked, he started with a half-answer and then quickly rolled away into a breathless, complicated tale of something that had happened to him.  Think of trying to lift mercury with a fork and you’ll have some idea of what it was like. 

In many ways Norris is representative of a southern view of the north - two warring tribes locked in irrational combat, with sensible people ( for example his part in the Peace Train campaign) trying to counter this irrationality. Oh, and how good it was we’ve all moved on from those dark days. It was hard to disagree with the second part; it was hard to listen to, let alone agree with, the first part. 

There are those who say Senator Norris likes the sound of his own voice. Not so. He loves it. And there’s no denying his presence in a room unfailingly adds to the gaiety of nations, in every sense. You get the feeling he’s making stuff up as he goes along, but he does it with such toffish gusto it’s near irresistible. Next you know, you’re nodding agreement with his monarchist/libertarian/they’re-an-odd-lot-up-there take on politics. 

And then on the way out, I met a woman who said she'd read an article I'd written about Marian Price and how much she'd liked it. She'd been at school with Marian Price - "An ordinary wee girl" - and now she was in prison or prison hospital, and might well end her days there if the whim of a British Secretary of State dictated so.  The road from David Norris doing his on-stage stand-up to Marian Price in a prison: that's a long, long road. 

End of 'No Pope there'

The bit I liked best was when they announced - in Latin - the name of the new Pope and everyone in St Peter's Square, including the media, sat with their lower jaws hanging. Who'd he say? Who he? I love it when the experts are found clothes-less.

So what else is there to be cheerful about this papal election?  Here's a few.

1. It was almost mind-bending to see the amount of space and time - non-critical - that was spent on the retirement of Benedict, the run-up to the election, the election and its aftermath. Normally the media follow "Catholic Church" with "clerical sexual abuse", as though abuse were confined to the Catholic Church. Refreshing, I'd say.

2.  The new man - it seems odd to be saying 'Francis' - is a Jesuit, which in my book is one up for him. Certainly in Ireland, and historically, Jesuits have been fearless and selfless, by and large. If you want a good example, check out Peter McVerry. They've also a reputation for being smart, which is nice. 

3. From what we're told, he's a man who's a bit impatient with pomp and splendour. Let's hope he carries that into his papacy. It's a bit hard to think of Christ's top man on earth, his Vicar/Viceroy, surrounded by riches and splendour, when the Man Himself was the polar opposite.

4.  He's from South America, which is a place I know little about (as anyone will tell you, and sometimes me); but it's far, far away from the Roman Curia and that can't be bad. It'll make it easier, I hope, for Francis to bash a few heads together and let them know fings ain't going to be wot they used to be.  I hope.

5. He's Argentinian - or is that 'an Argentine'? - which will add an interesting little wrinkle to the Falklands/Malvinas story. I was briefly on the Nolan Show this morning and Stephen asked me...well for a moment I wasn't quite sure what he was asking me. Then it turned out to be a question - I think - about the fact that Francis might be on the side of Argentina in the Malvinas question. Cheesh. I live thousands of miles from Argentina and I'm on the side of Argentina. Francis is from  there. 

But anyway, let's hope the media at least give him a honeymoon period, if that's the kind of term I should use for a celibate Pope. I guess it's just a question of time before some commentators start demanding to know why he didn't lead an assault on dictators Bignone and Galtieri, but for now there's a definitely positive air within the Catholic Church. And it's been a long time since that was the case. 

Peter and Sammy vs The Judges

Here’s an interesting question for a cold Tuesday morning: why did Peter and Sammy get so het-up about judges this past while? You know what I’m talking about - the way flag protestors didn’t get bail and a charged republican got jail. Why was it such an important item for them to raise?

Well, it could have been because they want judges to be held more accountable for their decisions. This seems to me reasonable - there is an awful lot of tomfoolery connected with the judiciary here and in Britain. In a blog a while back, I questioned the reasoning behind a judicial decision some year ago and I got responses demanding to see my law degree, did I think I knew better than the judge in question, what kind of a big-head was I? And I haven’t even mentioned those daft wigs and robes they wear. (Yes, yes, Virginia, just like cardinals, except cardinals have a small little cap and judges have a very big wig.) So I’m with Sammy and Peter on the need for openness and the explanation of judgements. 

But why are Peter and Sammy hot and bothered now? After all, the juryless Diplock courts were a feature of life here for decades (tell me they’ve abolished them, please) and yet I don’t remember Peter or Sammy being critical of a judiciary which dispensed with a jury and did the finding guilty/not guilty (but mainly guilty) themselves. The reason for the present DUP agitation can be summed up in two words: East Belfast.

That’s the seat the Alliance took from Peter Robinson and that’s the seat he must, on peril of his political life, win back next time. So if getting annoyed with a judge over not granting bail to flag protestors is necessary in order to reassure a section of loyalism that the DUP is their bestest friend, then that’s what they’ll do. Perhaps Peter and Sammy would like to get a bit more glasnost into the judicial system. But you can bet your life savings that they would far prefer to win that pesky seat back again. 

Just do it.

Everything’s relative. If I think I’m overweight, I look at Stephen Nolan and realise I don’t have a problem. If I suspect I’m arrogant, I listen to Sammy Wilson for five seconds and I realise I’m quite meek and mild. And when we think we’re having a hard time getting by during this recession, we should have a look at India. 

Some one-third of the world’s poor people live in India. We tend to think of Africa when we talk about poverty: the fact is,  the poverty in eight Indian states exceeds that of the poorest 26 African countries. 

India’s also a country where class/caste divisions flourish, with malignant results. If you were living as one of what are called the Scheduled Tribes, you’d find that 81% of your group lived in poverty. More than 1.5 million Indian children suffer from malnutrition and 43% of children under five are underweight. It’s even worse than sub-Saharan Africa - in India, 828 million people live below the poverty line. Compared to them, the poorest of us live in luxury. And don’t forget -  India is among the top three economies in the world. It doesn’t take an Einstein to work out that wealth in India is very badly distributed. 

Which is why I’ve done something very foolhardy: I’ve agreed to run the Omagh Half-Marathon on Saturday 30 March for Trocaire. At my age, you train for this kind of thing very, very carefully, and you feel it as the mileage grows and grows.  So what I’m saying is, if you’ll agree to sponsor me - and I do hope you will - then the pain you’ll feel, relative to what I’ll feel and am already feeling, is nothing. And what to you is a modest contribution could and will make a massive difference to the lives of people who are feeling the lash of real poverty every day. 

Of course there are all sorts of arguments for not sponsoring. If India’s a thriving economy, let the Indians look after the Indians. If I give money to Trocaire, it’ll go to sustaining the jobs of those who work in Trocaire or to corrupt Indian officials when the funds arrive. There are all sorts of excuses for not shelling out a few quid but in the end, we know in our hearts whether we’re being reasonable or just plain tight. 

So go on - open your wallet and your heart. It’ll take literally a couple of minutes and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you’ve done at least one truly human thing for those whom the Western world and the Indian elite treat as slum dogs. 

If you like me, click the link and help out. If you detest me, click the link and think of the exquisite pain you’re inflicting on me. But one way or another, don’t close your heart and your mind and sail on to a new site. People’s lives depend on it.  I’m aiming for a total of £1000. Your aim, as the old lavatory joke used to say, can help.  

Here's the link. Just do it. 
   

www.trocaire.org/sponsor-me/judejcollins/omagh-half-marathon

Taking care in a new Ireland

I wonder how many of the people who voted  for Francie Molloy on Thursday believe in a united Ireland? What’s that - all of them, you say? Right. And how many of them have a clear vision of what that new Ireland might look like? Mmm, you could be right. Not too many.

OK, here’s a little experiment. Close your eyes and imagine you’re in your 60s,  70s, maybe 80s. You have Alzheimer's. You’re not sure who your loved ones are when they come to visit you. Sometimes in the middle of the night you get up and get dressed, because you think you should be going to work even though it’s 3.00 a.m. Other times you think your mother is still alive and you’d better get home quickly or she’ll be wondering what’s happened to you. And then, in the middle of all this mental confusion, a bombshell. The place where you’ve been staying, the little bit of familiarity and routine that you were clinging to - it’s all swept away. The nursing unit you’ve been living in is to be closed and you and everyone in it will be farmed out elsewhere. 

What's that? Sound like the south of Ireland, where the health system is a joke?  Uh-uh. This is the north. This is the NHS,  one of the reasons some people cite for remaining in the UK. This is a real-life, eyes-open NHS unit in Derry. The Trust there plans to shift the six remaining residents and put them into private care homes. The families are resisting because (i) their loved ones are likely to be in an agitated/bewildered state with the move; (ii) it all looks part of the increasing movement to privatize the NHS; and (iii) they don't like the idea of putting their loved ones into the hands of those who make a business out of others' misery. 

I said at the start that not many people who are in favour of a united Ireland actually think through to the kind of state they’d like to see created. They might want to start by looking at health care on both sides of the border ( yes, both - as this case shows, the NHS in the north is being dismantled bit by bit).  In fact, now that we have devolved government, wouldn’t it be great if we were able to work towards the kind of health service that a new Ireland might offer? Maybe if we start with some ghastly examples on both sides of the border, we’ll begin to develop a picture of the kind of united Ireland we really want. It wouldn’t be the south’s system and it wouldn’t be the north’s or Britain’s. It’d be ours, and surely to God we could do it better. Maybe time to make a start?

Robert Ballagh and Geraldine Finucane: talent and determination

I was at an event last night that impressed me and depressed me at the same time. I was impressed by the quality of at least two of the people in the room, and I was depressed by the energy and  quality of both people.

The event was in the Gerard Dillon Gallery - the new bit of the Cultúrlann on the Falls Road. The occasion was a display of works/ paintings by that remarkable man, Robert Ballagh. I interviewed him for my book and was struck then by the quiet gentleness of the man. We did the interview in his studio, and he'd obviously taken time off from his work to talk to me. Nothing in it for him, but he was the essence of relaxed receptivity. At the event last night he noted that his painting career, spanning from 1968 to the present day, covered the Troubles. And he talked, again with self-deprecating humour, how he was moved out of his comfortable view of the world and his country by what was happening in the north back then and since. If you're in Belfast or near it, I urge you to go over to the Culturlann and look at the range of work he has on display there. It's all - or nearly all  - for sale. (And dammit, the one piece that caught my eye and my heart yearned after is not for sale.)

The reason for the sale of this wonderful range of works by Ballagh was embodied in the second person there last night who impressed/depressed me: Geraldine Finucane.  In real life she's smaller than on telly, but you sense that unstoppable quality she's had to show in trying to get to the truth about the shooting dead of her husband back in 1989, as he sat having dinner in his home with her and their  children.  She was there because Robert Ballagh has been generous enough to gift all the paintings/works on show to raise funds for the Pat Finucane Centre.

There were lots of other important people there, including Michael Farrell, the lawyer, civil rights activist and former leader of People's Democracy (ask your granny), but Ballagh and Finucane shone out particularly. Like all truly good and gifted people, they have a modesty, almost a shyness about them, while maintaining a focus that cuts through distractions.

I felt privileged to be there. And as I say depressed, but I took that out on the cat when I got home and I'm quite cheerful now, thanks.

Peter and Nigel: a tale of two conversions

“Between the stirrup and the ground

I mercy asked and mercy found”.

It’s always good to see and hear a conversion. This past few days we’ve had two for the price of one. You remember how the flag protestors made it clear it wasn’t just the flag being “ripped down” they were upset about, it was the way politicians seem to have abandoned them?

Good news, then. Those politicians have had a change of heart. After years of neglect, they have suddenly found conversion, repentance, as they sense that they are in danger of falling from their high horses. A day or three ago, we had Peter Robinson criticising the rough deal that was being doled out to loyalist protestors in terms of bail, when compared to a republican who was granted bail. “Lack of impartiality!” was Peter’s cry, which must have cheered the hearts of many nationalists,  who for so long have felt the police were less than impartial.

Then this morning I hear Nigel Dodds on BBC Raidio Uladh/Radio Ulster, explaining vigorously that there really really must be impartiality, that release of loyalist protestors who were in no danger of doing anything unlawful (give or take the odd road-block) should be released on bail. He was quite worked up about it, I thought.

And then I asked myself: have these two last-minute conversions got anything in common? Might they have, at the heels of the hunt, any similar motivation? And you know, I think it’s just possible they might have. Last time out, Peter Robinson lost his Westminster seat to Naomi Long - that can’t happen again. And Nigel Dodds can feel the hot breath of Gerry Kelly on his collar as his, Dodds’s, majority shrinks and shrinks and shrinks. Call me a hardened cynic, but might the two men’s sense of outrage link with their desire to get back into their seats at all costs, even it involves appealing for mercy to people who’re convinced they were abandoned by them years ago? Just askin’, like.