My mate is mad so he is.
How is he mad?
I used to work security down at a refugee hostel, and he would say to me ‘You're down there with all those black fellas, aren't you?’. And I'd say to him ‘Yeah, I'll get four black fellas, they'll come around, tie you down and have a party in your asshole’. And he says ‘Ah grand, just give me a few minutes to grease up with the vaseline’. He's mad so he is!
Don't worry, if anything bad happens I'll just kick in with the hallucinations.
I'm giving a talk in Maynooth on Tuesday the 29th of March, at 6pm. I will be covering effective design. How do your know if your designs are effective? How do you make them so? Come along and find out.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.
Good advice, advice that I have not been following recently.
There's audio at either of those links. Get listening.
Strategically, the protest was a disaster. What I remember of the day was a lot of angry students, who boo'ed the then Minister for Education and Science. They disrupted the activities of the day so much with their noise that the staff and their guests had to move to another room. Some still hold this as an achievement.
Way to initiate a dialogue, guys!
Phil and I were returning from lunch, just as the protest began. Always up for a bit of street theatre, we welcomed the invitation to hang around.
We didn't do much. We stood. We mumbled as the crowd booed. Phil stepped in some dog shit. We broke it down with some impromptu renditions of NWA's finer pieces.
I may have also tried to convince the leaders of the protest that fifty students could pretty quickly overpower the two gardai present, and break through their rather shoddy defensive line and gain access to those inside.
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