you saw him!?

wow...

I rish I had seen him...

shamrocks and
beamish beer and...

boiled bacon and cabbage on mondays!

happy st. paddy's day!

If St. Patrick chased all the snakes from Ireland, do you think we may be able to hire him to visit the whitehouse?

Happy St Pattys Day to all! I didn't realize it was today until I saw Dubya on the news wearing a green tie & then it hit me lol...

I must take a break from seriousness and come back to see how you all are doing, and here I find psb has delivered on time a perfect punctuation to St. Paddy's day. That forum on Shane MacGowan's site is a riot, especially tonight... never seen so much cheering and rejoicing ...

Loiuse - I read there an aborigine was selected to lead the St. Paddy's Day parade in Sydney! How did that go over?
MG

Louise, sorry ..typing in the dark!

hi MG! i just checked out the forums
someone there mentioned something about derek bell's carolan's receipt...i have that on cassette!

i did check out the gallery earlier though
i thought this was cute
http://www.shanemacgowan.com/IMG_6375.jpg

At first I thought it's not possible, but now I think that maybe we DO share the braincell. What a burden!

On the sharing of brain cells , the concept of mitosis comes to mind !

Happy birthweek, Ceashel, and was it just one short year ago you were in the Keys to celebrate the same?? Love, MG.

Maybe we sould lend it to the shrub, but not without a deposit(cash) and a signed release form?

Burden hell! It's a joy to get this close to one...

edited to say: You have to take into account who I am?

I did watch Wales beat Ireland in Rugby a few weekends ago (and the Scots beat the English) and now I hear they won the Grand Slam (Cymri). Brains Bitter for everyone!

http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/03/16/sports/rugby.php

You know, Shane did look like a ghost, and I thought, my God, he is my age (more or less), but he could still draught on that Irish soul, and the band was crankin’

I kissed my love
By the gas works wall
I dreamed a dream
By the old canal

And despite the obvious affects of strong drink on this Irish image, I managed a pint or two just for the good times.

I was thinking, however, about how a week or so ago I was walking down Old City Street, past the Angel tube stop and up Pendleton toward the King’s Cross and taking in some night air. I had a couple days in London and had just been to a Pub with Kathryn (my daughter of course) who is spending her time on the planet well from all reports. She has been in London now for almost three months and is enjoying her stay. I was walking down Pendleton, thinking of the past as is easy in Europe, I was actually walking the limits of the old Roman city and past the very houses where the Russian Revolutionaries took refuge at the turn of the previous century (I realized Trotsky met Lenin just a few yards over yonder there). Their they plotted in the heart of imperial Britannia, home of capitalist theories and the great bastion of industrial pragmatism as well as the final resting place of the bones of Karl Marx. It was a bit raw in the night and I was happy to have one more pint over by Russell Square near my resting place for the evening.

I was staying in a relatively classy joint (The Euro Hotel) between Russell Square and King’s Cross, with smiling women from Poland who brought me fried eggs, bacon and baked beans with hot coffee to wash it down as the morning sun came in the picture window. Kathryn arrived, and smiling, said come along and I will show you a place I found and off we went. I found myself in a darkened room in the British Library. There is no doubt she is my kid as she pointed to a case that housed the Lindesfarne Gospels, a huge sheath of handwritten gospels dating from the 8th century and decorated in extremely detailed Celtic graphics (some might say with Moorish influences I suppose) and as you look through the case there were more ancient extremely well preserved works of God including an original Wycliffe Bible from the days of the Tudor’s with less austere graphics but only the occasional depiction of a gospel with incredible seriousness on the faces of the key players, as Jesus never smiles (curiously no Stuart Bible as all these were free hand text’s). There were ancient Qur’an’s as well, from the plain iconoclastic unpunctuated texts of the Arabian deserts to the more ornate Mogul and Moorish versions.

http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&r ... 1&ie=UTF-8

Kathryn says, I gotta go to work, but I want to show you a couple of things before I leave, and she directs me to a small room where ancient texts of “freedom” are on display. There I gazed upon remaining fragments of the original set of Magna Cartas, some with John’s signature and all. Even more interesting to me was the actual Papal Bull issued by Pope somebody or other (I think one of those Innocent Popes) saying no way can mere mortal man over turn the divine right’s of King’s (no way Jose, as God just won’t stand for it). Before I can contemplate much, Kathryn pulls me in another direction, across the room, past Lenin’s library card and the manuscripts of Mendelssohn and Mozart to the Fab Four zone. Somebody asks, “why did they write so big?” So they didn’t have to strain to see the words while playing and singing their new songs (I thought to myself). I thought it odd that in this room full of sacred yet acrimonious documents that date back centuries and millennia, great works of human endeavor, there was, in the unruly script of Liverpool punks, sort of a summation of it all.

Life is very short
And there is no time
For fussing and fighting my friend.

A Pope said there is no way mortal man can bring down Kings or such... Long before this internet arrived, which can change the whole media in no time with the high definition TVs in clubs and bars, where you-tube can play right now with a laptop and cable or 2.

those Popes, they are about half nuts!