Given that spring appears to have sprung or pounced or whatever it does and that it would have been Mr. Beckett’s birthday on Sunday, here is one of my favourite descriptions of said season from Watt:

The crocuses and the larch turning green every year a week before the others and the pastures red with uneaten sheep’s placentas and the long summer days and the newmown hay and the wood-pigeon in the morning and the cuckoo in the afternoon and the corncrake in the evening and the wasps in the jam and the smell of the gorse and the look of the gorse and the apples falling and the children walking in the dead leaves and the larch turning brown a week before the others and the chestnuts falling and the howling winds and the sea breaking over the pier and the first fires and the hooves on the road and the consumptive postman whistling The Roses Are Blooming in Picardy and the standard oillamp and of course the snow and to be sure the sleet and bless your heart the slush and every fourth year the February débâcle and the endless April showers and the crocuses and then the whole bloody business starting all over again.

Advertisements

martello tower sandycoveLoyal readers, it is time for our annual installment of Bloomsday Twiterature, our massive 10,000-year-long project of  one tweet-length installment of Ulysses each year.  The story so far:

STATELY, PLUMP BUCK MULLIGAN CAME FROM THE STAIRHEAD, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently-behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

— Introibo ad altare Dei.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called up coarsely:

— Come up, Kinch. Come up, you fearful jesuit.

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding country and the awaking mountains. Then, ca

The Loyal Reader: Now you’re cooking with gas!  We are really starting to motor!  But tell us this, it is only Friday…

You are correct it is indeed only Friday but past experience has shown that the vast majority of our readers visit us during the workday.  I am sure their weekends are all too crowded with camogie and handball and fixing gutters and picking up the mother from Dunne’s to be visiting the web.

The Loyal Reader: That seems plausible.  I am reminded of advice I have been in the habit of offering at this time of year which is to include at least one gratuitous reference to spandex bikinis to attract new punters.

Will do.  Anyway, without further ado, here is our 2013 Bloomsday Twiterature offering wherein we finally catch sight of the bauld Stephen Daedalus:

tching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen

The Loyal Reader: Ah that’s lovely.  There’s eating and drinking in that.  That’ll keep me going for a while.  See you next year.

Well if you are still in need of more, you can alwasy swing by Ullyses of Stone Street in New York City on Sunday afternoon between 2 and 4 and there will be a great crew reading bits of Ulysses aloud into the sunshine.

 OK so the story so far:

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

—Introibo ad altare Dei.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:

—Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Solemnly he came forward and

You’ll see we left you last year with a bit of a cliff-hanger which we are happy to resolve this year so here it is in simlcast with twitter:

and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, ca 

The Loyal Reader: And that’s it then?

It is.

The Loyal Reader: And you’re doing it a day early?

Our research has shown 88% of your audience only ever views this page while at work.

The Loyal Reader: Ah, fair enough.  Don’t forget the gratuitous reference to the spandex bikini to draw the punters.  Right I’m off.!

Are you not staying around for the discussion?

The Loyal Reader: There’s a football game on somewhere.   Sad display yesterday – a rough encounter with the rows of cast steel you might say – but the singing was lovely.

Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé!

Olé!

Olé!

On the fields ot Athenry

[CTRL+Q Exit singing]

The Loyal Reader: Hello?  Anyone home?

[sound of Powers Gold Label bottle being hastily concealed offscreen]

The Definitive Indefinite Article: You again?  What is it?  What is it?  I’m busy trying to flog some of this jubilee tat I imported.  Sunhats!  Sunhats!

The Loyal Reader: Coulda warned you that wasn’t going to work.  Anyway was just making plans and was wondering if you will be doing the aul twiterature for Bloomsday.  It was really picking up speed last year.

TDIA: I will I will.  It’s not like I’m being invited to read Oxen of the Sun at the White House or anything!

The Loyal Reader: Ah right.  Well I don’t think anyone is being invited to the White House to read so I wouldn’t worry about that.  So will it be on twitter too?

TDIA: It will.  Yer man Holohan will be blasting it to round webs imagined corners and beyond.

The Loyal Reader: Ah grand so.  I’d suggest making a gratuitous reference to a spandex bikini or somesuch to drive web traffic but it’s entirely up to you.  I’d better go.  I have a days off form I have to submit. [ALT + TAB. EXIT]

The Definitive Indefinite Article: We temporarily  interrupt this long hiatus to belatedly fulfill our commitment to our annual Bloomsday Twiterature installment.

The Patient Reader: I was wondering if you would ever come back to get around to that.

TDIA: Well it has been very busy over at the Sister ship of The Brothers’ Lot and then , well I got sidetracked watching Rory McIlroy winning the US golf Open and then I was on the radio on Bloomsday and…

The Patient Reader: I heard you.  I fully understand and am delighted to see you back,  I was up until all hours watching the golf myself.

TDIA: So here goes.  The story so far:

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came across from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.  Ha

The Patient Reader: Right.  I’m with you.

TDIA: And this is 2011’s offering:

lted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely: Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit! Solemnly he came forward

The Patient Reader: Ah, that’s lovely.  It’s really starting to pick up steam.  I can’t wait for next year.

TDIA: But wait!  This year it is actually on Twitter too. 

The Patient Reader: You don’t say!

TDIA: I do! @KevinHolohan is pushing it out any minute now.

The Patient Reader: Ah that’s marvellous!.  In a strangely self-referential kind of way.

TDIA: The times we live in.

The Patient Reader: Indeed.  Oops here’s me boss!  Back to my spreadsheet. [Alt+Tab.  Exit.]

TDIA: Goodluck now.

The Earnest Reader: Is it that time of year already?

TDIA: What?  Why do you people keep wandering in here and bothering me?  What time of year?

The Earnest Reader:  Bloomsday.

TDIA: Already?

The Earnest Reader: Exactly what I was saying.  So?

TDIA: So?  What?

The Earnest Reader: Will there be Twiterature this year.

TDIA: Eh yeah sure. Was just a bit distracted lamenting the bloom coming off the rows of cast steel in the world Cup.  Eh here you are:, Picking up from where we left off last year comes this year’s twiterature installment of Ulysses:

gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.  Ha

The Earnest Reader: Ah, that’s fabulous?  do ye count spaces.

TDIA: We do.  Why.

The Earnest Reader: Just figuring.

TDIA: What?

The Earnest Reader: Well at this rate it’ll take another 10,628 years to do the whole thing.  See ye next year.

From the You Can’t Make This Shit Up Department with all gratitude to the Irish Times and, of course, the Slovakian Security forces:
http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/breaking/2010/0105/breaking39.htm

CONOR LALLY, CRIME CORRESPONDENT

A Garda investigation is under way after a Slovakian man unwittingly carried explosives on a commercial flight to Ireland as part of an airport security check that went wrong.

The 49-year-old was one of eight people who had plastic explosives planted in their luggage last Saturday morning at Bratislava airport by the Slovakian security services.

The covert planting of the material in the passengers’ bags was done to test the airport’s security screening.

Security checks at the airport uncovered seven of the concealments. However, the man flying to Dublin was not detected.

He passed through all checks in Bratislava, took his flight to Dublin airport and then travelled into his apartment on Gardner St in Dublin’s north inner city.

He unpacked his bag but the explosives had been concealed so well that he did not find them. The Slovakian authorities only realised yesterday that one batch of explosives was missing. They established the Dublin-bound passenger had not been detected.

The airport police at Bratislava airport then contacted their counterparts in Dublin. Gardaí were then alerted, identified the man’s flat and went to it and searched it. The Army’s bomb disposal experts examined the explosives at the scene.

The roads around the apartment complex including Dorset St, a main artery into the city, were sealed off for an hour, and local apartments and businesses were evacuated. The area was declared safe at 12.05pm.

The 96 grams of plastic explosives were taken away for examination by Garda ballistics experts.

The man at the centre of the incident knew nothing about the explosives that had been planted in his bag. He was arrested at his apartment, but gardai released him after they satisfied themselves he was completely innocent.

He has been living in Ireland for some time and works here as an electrician. He was returning to Ireland after holidaying in Slovakia over Christmas.

The Government and Garda have been in contact with the Slovakian authorities. The Slovakian Minister for the Interior has already expressed his “profound regret” to Minister for Justice Dermot Ahern.

Garda Commissioner Fachtna Murphy has appointed Det Chief Supt Martin McLaughlin to establish the full background into the incident.