Birmovne Meno St Patrick

The arts are an even better barometer of what is happening in our world than the stock market or the debates in congress.— Hendrik Willem van Loon, died in 1944

Janko Brunovsky loved the Irish culture ...

As Bill Callahan wrote, “Everyone’s got their own thing that they yell into a well.”

The inequalities of capitalist economies are not exactly news. As my colleague Esther Bloom pointed out, “For centuries, a woman’s social status was clear-cut: either she had a maid or she was one.”

“I had thirteen names. Each name was from a different generation, beginning with Father and going back from him. I was the first one in our village to have thirteen names. Our family was considered blessed to have such a history.”

ST PATRICK RID US OF THESE SNAKES:  St. Patrick’s Day Meets Political Correctness

By all accounts, nineteenth-century Ireland—from which Irish immigrants to this country fled by the boatloads—was a remarkably dismal place even before the Great Potato Famine. As Gustave de Beaumont, traveling companion to Alexis de Tocqueville, wrote in the 1830s: “I have seen the Indian in his forests and the Negro in his chains, and thought, as I contemplated their pitiable condition, that I saw the very extreme of human wretchedness; but I did not know then the condition of unfortunate Ireland.”

‘I’m Not A Gay Writer, I’m A Monster. Gay Writers Are Too Conservative.’ Are American Readers Finally Ready For James Purdy?

Despite praise in his lifetime from Langston Hughes, Susan Sontag, Edward Albee, Gore Vidal, as well as – in later years – John Waters and Jonathan Franzen, Purdy … cast out by the US literary establishment,” which wasn’t ready for either his experimental style or his outré subject matter. (Nelson Algren called one of Purdy’s books “a fifth-rate avant-garde soap opera [about] prayer and faggotry.”) And Purdy’s delight in burning bridges didn’t help. – The Guardian

Report: Rural Communities Do Better When They Develop Creative Industries

Rural counties that are home to performing arts organizations experiencedpopulation growth three times faster and higher household incomes (up to $6,000 higher) than rural counties lacking performing arts organizations. –Medium

Recovering from Cultural Dementia - The Catholic Thing
“But we do sing at Mass,” someone says. Yes and no. There are songs, but most of the congregation is silent or is murmuring, because the songs are for Mass entertainment, having been conceived in form and content after the patterns of mass entertainment.

No one remembers the words, because the poetry is bad or nonexistent, and no one remembers the melodies, because they are bad or because they never were written to be sung by an entire congregation and its full range of human voices.
What is forgotten is that great literature and art give great and last pleasure, pleasure that forms character.

Why Walking Helps Us Think

FINALLY, A FORM OF FASTING I MIGHT CONSIDER: No food, only beer: Fasting like a 17th-century monk.


WELL, THIS IS THE 21ST CENTURY, YOU KNOW: A drone builder claims he invented the smallest flying car in the world — the Koncepto Millenya.

 Is fighting like cooking?

Why do we refer to “heads” of state and the long “arm” of the law? The “body politic” is deeply rooted in Western philosophy. And it may be a cure for what ails us 

openculture.com – “If you know nothing else about medieval European illuminated manuscripts, you surely know the Book of Kells. “One of Ireland’s greatest cultural treasures” comments Medievalists.net, “it is set apart from other manuscripts of the same period by the quality of its artwork and the sheer number of illustrations that run throughout the 680 pages of the book.” The work not only attracts scholars, but almost a million visitors to Dublin every year. “You simply can’t travel to the capital of Ireland,” writes Book Riot’s Erika Harlitz-Kern, “without the Book of Kells being mentioned. And rightfully so.”…its exquisite illuminations mark it as a ceremonial object, and its “intricacies,” argue Trinity College Dublin professors Rachel Moss and Fáinche Ryan, “lead the mind along pathways of the imagination…. You haven’t been to Ireland unless you’ve seen the Book of Kells.” This may be so, but thankfully, in our digital age, you need not go to Dublin to see this fabulous historical artifact, or a digitization of it at least, entirely viewable at the online collections of the Trinity College Library. The pages, originally captured in 1990, “have recently been rescanned,” Trinity College Library writes, using state of the art imaging technology. These new digital images offer the most accurate high resolution images to date, providing an experience second only to viewing the book in person.”…

• Geoff Dyer on jazz
• Tips for writing a novel
• Entropy of art
• Life of librarians
• Smoking with Hockney
• Cost of knowledge
• Baudrillard's America
• My brain on cable news
• André Previn, R.I.P.
• Why UNESCO?

The Married Man (Reservist of the Line)

THE BACHELOR ’e fights for one As joyful as can be; But the married man don’t call it fun, Because ’e fights for three— For ’Im an’ ’Er an’ It (An’ Two an’ One make Three) ’E wants to finish ’is little bit, An’ ’e wants to go ’ome to ’is tea! The bachelor pokes up ’is ’ead To see if you are gone; But the married man lies down instead, An’ waits till the sights come on, For ’Im an’ ’Er an’ a hit (Direct or ricochee) ’E wants to finish ’is little bit, An’ ’e wants to go ’ome to ’is tea. The bachelor will miss you clear To fight another day; But the married man, ’e says “No fear!” ’E wants you out of the way Of ’Im an’ ’Er an’ It (An’ ’is road to ’is farm or the sea), ’E wants to finish ’is little bit, An’ ’e wants to go ’ome to ’is tea. The bachelor ’e fights ’is fight An’ stretches out an’ snores; But the married man sits up all night— For ’e don’t like out-o’-doors. ’E’ll strain an’ listen an’ peer An’ give the first alarm— For the sake o’ the breathin’ ’e’s used to ’ear An’ the ’ead on the thick of ’is arm. The bachelor may risk ’is ’ide To ’elp you when you’re downed; But the married man will wait beside Till the ambulance comes round. ’E’ll take your ’ome address An’ all you’ve time to say, Or if ’e sees there’s ’ope, ’e’ll press Your art’ry ’alf the day— For ’Im an’ ’Er an’ It (An’ One from Three leaves Two), For ’e knows you wanted to finish your bit, An’ ’e knows ’oo’s wantin’ you. Yes, ’Im an’ ’Er an’ It (Our ’oly One in Three), We’re all of us anxious, to finish our bit, An’ we want to get ’ome to our tea! Yes, It an’ ’Er an’ ’Im, Which often makes me think The married man must sink or swim An’—’e can’t afford to sink! Oh ’Im an’ It an’ ’Er Since Adam an’ Eve began! So I’d rather fight with the bacheler An’ be nursed by the married man!