My sister saw the video

I was on the phone to Andrea and I told her she should look at the blog. I said she'd find something about her there. She said she would when she got the time.

She rang me the other evening. I answered tentatively, holding the phone a good mile from my ear, just in case.

- "So, I saw that video you put up of me."

"Hang on till I put you on speakerphone." I said, "Now, tell me again so Niamh can hear you."

- "I saw that video you put up of me. Who were all them people writin' back to ya?"

"The comments? They were people who saw the video."

- "Oh right. Well. I suppose, I suppose then, well I'll have to do another one, won't I?"

"What? What do you mean?"

- "I'll do another video. Since they liked the first one so much, like."

"Seriously?"

- "Yeah. Sure I might as well. They liked the first one. When are you down again?"


No fireworks, no drama, no indignant protests or threats of retribution. No claims of "I'll get you and your little dog too." More a case of "They like me, they really like me."

What have you lot created?

Pain

It started in my neck this time. I opened my eyes Tuesday morning, feeling refreshed after after a fairly good night's sleep but when I tried to get up properly I found the entire area from my neck down to just above the small of my back constricted. You know the way you get a crick in your neck from sleeping badly? That kind of thing but more intense than I'm familiar or comfortable with.

It started the usual-for-me way. It woke up while I slept, disturbed perhaps by the deepness of breath indicating an unusually sound night. It donned its shiny black suit of spasms with black cape of cramps, regarded the weakened bars of the Nurofen prison I had restricted it to, took advantage of the sleeping guards and slipped out, finding a new way to announce its arrival, causing all sorts of strange dreams as it rattled around my hypothalamus, coaxing sweet endorphins from my pituitary as the body tried to ease the effects of its passage. Remember that robot cleaning up after Wall-E in the space station? That's what these hormones were trying to do for me. Clean up the pain mess. No wonder I was dreaming of a certain someone.

It's a sneaky bastard. Despite several warnings, despite wanted posters as big as billboards being stuck up around the place and a strongly worded personal memo to each member of the neck-and-shoulder-blade department with both instructions on how to repel said discomfort and warn the others of its impending arrival, it still managed to get in there, make itself a cup of coffee in the staff room and draw others into a meeting where they decided to collude for the greater good - an option for relief from any kind of work.

"You just sit there, relaaaax, let me look after it", it has said. "He doesn't need to be typing - he's done enough this year. Don't worry about it, he'll be graaaaaand."

First a painstaking visit to convert the shoulders, then on to insinuating itself with the upper arms, then a brief sojourn in the wrists before it continues its grand tour of the body. Aches and cramps more than stabbing pains, but since the body is in cahoots, every action I take is a rebellion. Despite almost no exercise my body feels like it's run a five mile road race, the pain a reminder of familiar lactic acid.

The mind is screaming orders to the troops - "Resist the invasion. Do not listen to the intruder. Everything is fine, we can get through this. We have work to do. We have things to do." In vain it seems, as reports come in from various fronts of outlying regions who have fallen prey to the propaganda of pangs being spread.

The lower back, fine a few minutes ago suddenly needs the support only offered by lying on the couch. The shoulders, previously ready to lift, carry, push and pull the hoover, the sweeping brush, the boxes of books or just sort the piles of paper I have stacked in the sitting room suddenly decide to convulse, letting the brain no in no uncertain terms that the torture of doing anything productive far outweighs the benefits. I'm not allowed sit in one spot for too long, not allowed focus or concentrate on projects nearing deadlines - I'm confined to sitting, trapped, active mind, inactive body. As I said, bastard.

Every thing on the list for this week - the long list - has been put back. Things I promised to do weeks ago remain on the page where I wrote them, my mind longing to tackle them, my brain sensing in no uncertain terms that I may as well be at one end of Croker facing the All Blacks, all the Kilkenny hurling squads and, sure, for the hell of it, the Knocklyon U12s - who seem fiercesome enough at the worst of times - trying to get to the other end without being hit, knocked or collapsing in a puddle of pain. Two chances, son, two chances.

The pain is nestled currently in my left thigh. Right at the back, just above the knee. Far from dormant, it's waiting to react when I try something adventurous like stand up straight or take a few steps. It controls both legs - that's uncomfortable now, change position, okay now let's try something else. It's in collusion with my back so even lying on my stomach won't help and even a glance at the chair at my desk causes a 'hahahahha you wish' reaction, translated into simultaneous aches in the back, bum and knees.

The pins and needles that started early this morning continue their pinning and needling and the mind is now refusing to cooperate - it won't bring the words to mind, relegating this piece from a starwars-esque parody to a mish-mash of "I'm sore and it's bad". The doctor says there's nothing he can do - an appointment would be €60 to tell me to take some tablets. All the painkillers in the house have been swallowed, I need to get more but have other things to be doing than walking ALL the way to the pharmacist and ALL the way back. You know, things like complaining but not doing anything about it. Niamh calls it "moany-hole-edness".

I'm limping like a pirate, lurching around the house like Quasimodo, straining to bend over to get milk, to reach for cups, to sit still. The scent of Eucalyptus from the Deep Heat would have every Koala in the zoo reaching for me. No súgradh sa sneachta domsa. I've been barely able to get up off the couch. I've answered barely any emails, written no blog posts since Sunday and am generally feeling quite shite.

Feck it, I'm still hoping to go for a pint this evening though.

Old Jews telling jokes

I'm loving this website and the idea behind it.



From site creator Sam Hoffman:

"My dad can tell a story. But he’d prefer to tell a joke.

Storytelling is a Jewish tradition. You’ve probably seen Fiddler on the Roof. Whenever they ask the Rabbi a question, he tugs thoughtfully on his beard and says “let me tell you a story.” Then they sing.

Jokes are like stories, but shorter and funnier. Old jokes tend to have a stigma, but they only last if they’re good. Some of the best ones provide a window to the culture of a bygone era. They can reveal the concerns of a generation or even the generation before. Anxieties of coming to a new country, of prospering, of assimilating, of having families, of fearing and worrying about, well, everything. Humor was and is the ultimate anti-depressant.

My father gathered twenty of his friends to share their favorite jokes. We set three rules for the production: the joke-tellers were to be Jewish, at least sixty years of age and they were to tell their favorite joke – the one that always kills.

Here, you will find them, Old Jews Telling Jokes."

(Found via the ever superb Panti blog)

Welcome to new, improved and multinational 49£!

Back in the days when I barely knew what a blog was I was introduced to my first group blog - 49£ or forninepounds. Here was my first experience reading a website with a group of diverse individuals blogging whatever took their fancy with no direction other than their own thoughts and findings.

It became a daily destination to read the angry rants of Shanachie, the mad ramblings of Someone Living, the strange thoughts of Midget Wrangler and the words and wisdom of idiot, jothemama, ails, dolly, conformist, mr pink and so on. It was an eclectic mix, controversial, chatty, funny and interesting, where often the genius lay just as much in the comments as in the post.

And then it ended and the Blog Pound came along.

And now - well now it's back with a whole lot of new faces. According to new overlord and master Shanachie,

"Yes we have a load of new bean pickers on board, not only that but we are going worldwide, with posts from Ireland, England, the USA, and mainland Europe.

We will carry on ... with some bloggers who have been at it for years to others that have never ever read a blog let alone posted on one! Very few of us have even met each other which will even make it more interesting!"

There's great potential there for a truly - and perhaps uniquely - cosmopolitan feel to the blog. Given the contributors are from Ballymena, California, Carlow, Essex, France, Kilkenny, Los Angeles, Oslo and Wicklow we can expect great stories and different points of view. As well as some familiar names, some of the new people to say hello to are listed below:

Hello to ANJEE: She's 39, 40 in December, married to Jon, has two children and lives in Essex. She promises to be honest and give us "a little snapshot of life for a normal(ish) family living in Essex."

A big hi there to BLUE EYES: a 45 year old single English lady living in the Sussex countryside. She's had quite a tough couple of years but she promises her posts won't be depressing but positive ramblings about her life and things that happen to her, and thoughts and memories.

Hey there ETAMNI: a 47 year old mom of 4, grandmother of 1 living in California. Intriguingly she apologizes (note the American 'z') in advance "for typos, misspellings, bad punctuation or lack there of, and anything else that would send those who write or read into convulsions" which bodes well for interesting posts in the future

Dia dhuit go dtí DAGNAMIT: He's a 30 something Irish group blog virgin. Also one for apologies, he says he's sorry in advance "for my swearing but my mouth is dirtier than a coal-miner, and more fruity than a banana plantation."

Hi to h.i or the HEALTHY IRISHMAN: He's in LA to escape the cold, is loved up and thinking of kids next year. He's "really looking forward to revealing in innerds, thoughts that is".

Bonjour to le SNOW QUEEN: She's a bit scared of contributing to a group blog but seems eager to give it a go. She lives up a mountain... in the French Alps now for the last few years and describes herself as a bit of a gadget queen.

God Dag to OY who is Norwegian, 32, father of a little boy and is soon to be married. English is not his native language he tells us but if his introductory post is anything to go by, the rest should be great.

Finally, and most intriguingly we have the very verbose, outspoken and mysterious amateurblogman whose very first post conveys such a depth of information that it may be a true insight into the man's character, his hopes and dreams and the genius he is about to unleash on all of us. Or maybe not.

So welcome 49£'ers old and new. I look forward to visiting you, reading and adding comments where I can. Well done Shanachie - glad to see it back, and how!

Finding out more about the 2009 Alternative Miss Ireland competition

So I've heard about this "Alternative Miss Ireland" event for a few years now. Kind of like a Rose of Tralee, kind of like a Craggy Island Lovely Girls competition and kind of like the Calor Kosangas Housewife of the year gig that Gaybo used to do, except for men pretending to be women and sexual jokes aplenty and sure it's really only a gay community thing, right?

A selective run around Google offers a few things - previous contestants include Joanna Ryde, Sheila Fitzpatrick, Heidi Konnt, Funtime Gustavo, Lucy Furr, Tampy Lylette and Shirley Temple Bar, some of whom have won - Shirley Temple Bar and Tampy (Katherine Lynch) best known to us through RTÉ. The pictures from Showbiz Ireland or Flickr tell a story of flamboyance, of creativity and of a design flair you won't see on any Late Late Show this side of Gaybo.


Photo from here.


2002 photo from Showbiz Ireland

Visiting the website presents a more complete story. We are told

Alternative Miss Ireland (AMI) is an annual beauty pageant that is open to all creatures - men, women and animals - and that raises money for Irish HIV/AIDS organisations.

A lot of money in fact. Over €250,000 since 1996 with over €50,000 being made on last year's pageant alone - €20,000 more than 2007.

"Money raised by AMI has been instrumental in enabling the development of ground-breaking programmes tackling issues with HIV and children, and more recently with the burgeoning immingrant populations in Ireland" says the website.

Five different charities are the benefactors - each one with different concerns: from children to parents; prevention to post-infection healthcare; education, well-being and self-esteem. Open Heart House, Gay Mens Health Project, Dublin AIDS Alliance, Grandmas Ireland and The NewFill Project at St James’ Hospital have all benefited.


Photo from Panti's fabulous pictorial.

If one name was to be associated with the event it is Panti. I met with the organiser, grand-dame doyenne, presenter and tour-de-force icon herself to find out more about the show:

"No, it's not just about drag queens and kings. Maybe for the last few years it's been sidetracked into that but crazed, fabulous performance has always been at its roots and that's what we're looking to get back to this year. At its heart - and it's a big heart - it's a silly, fun, and totally fabulous charity event.

Shirley Temple Bar is probably the most high profile drag winner and that was 1997 so it may have put that it's about traditional drag acts into some people's heads. But 2009 is about bringing it back to its arts student vibe; there are very few straight up drag entries."

Artwork by Niall Sweeney

Happening on March 15, 2009, the competition returns for its ninth year to the Olympia Theatre. The theatre is an important part of the show, having come from venues like the Red Box on Harcourt Street and Temple Bar Music Centre.

"Before the Olympia, the carpark usually doubled up as both freezing dressing rooms and toilets. The dancefloor would be squeezed with tables and though one year we did manage a kind of curtain system, it broke down early in the proceedings and was duly ditched.

So the Olympia was a revelation to us - a real stage with a full-time and experience stage crew! Dressing rooms with toilets and washing facilities! It was huge change. It allowed us to produce the event on the scale which it seemed to want to become, and gave us a whole system of people and spaces that were just unachievable to us before."

HISTORY

The very first Alternative Miss Ireland happened in 1986 - it was a very small club event at a time when homosexuality was still a crime.

"In 1996, because of the club nights and events we were involved in organising, a group of us were were approached by one of the many groups that had transformed from gay activism to AIDS activism, to dig up the Alternative Miss and put her to work as a charitable concern.

It's important to note that in 1990, six of those directly involved with the original AMI, two of them contestants, were already dead from AIDS. So here we are, all volunteers, all donating our time having raised 250,000 Euro for Irish HIV/AIDS organisations."

ORGANISATION

"There have been some changes this year. Previously we tended to just bury our heads and get into a big flap around January time. This time though we all went down the country - some 18 of us - and ate food and talked AMI for two days solid.

We've refocussed on making the show nuttier and artier, bringing a new experience to both performers and the audience."

This year contestants were asked to submit videos of them to the judging panel. Panti has them on her blog - some are bizarre, some downright strange and some just wonderful. This one is my personal favourite so far:



THE CONTESTANTS:

"It wouldn't happen without the contestants and all the hard work they put in. It's incredibly impressive and always astounding to see how the aspiring Queens, with nothing to win except the title, and nothing to lose except their dignity... put so much work into the creation of our Misses.

One spontaneous and sometimes hilarious thing about the AMI is that there are no dress rehearsals for the contestants, they arrive at the theatre in the afternoon on the day of the event. The only stage most of them have ever been on before is the imaginary one in front of their bedroom mirror.

We get in on the morning of the show, run around setting everything up and then getting it ready for the audience. We have no idea what the contestants will do on stage, we're seeing it for the first time.

It's a fucking amazing event on so many levels; it's highly entertaining, the atmosphere is fantastic and it's in no way up its own arse - it's a mixture of raw talent and butt clenchingly awful performances and that's what makes it special.

It's quite amazing how moving some of the performances can be. People still talk about '97, the year that Shirley won. When Heidi Konnt handed over her crown in 2006, people were in tears. We've had all singing acts, all dancing acts. We even had a dog entered as a contestant one year."

The entry stats are impressive. As the website says

We've had 150 entrants Which means 450 individual performances and they, in turn, have brought over 1,000 additional assistants and performers on stage with them. Of the 150 entrants, about a quarter have been biologically female. And then at least 5 have started off on one side of the gender spectrum and now live happily on the other side.

So what happens at the show?

"Well, it's a traditional beauty pageant - the contestants - there are usually about 10 - are put through rounds of daywear, swimwear and evening wear and are judged on their originality, personality and poise. That's where the madness starts.

We've had some great judges through the years - Senator David Norris, Louis Walshe, Linda Martin, Ivana Bacik, Twink, Mr Pussy, Brenda Fricker, NCAD lecturers, New York arts magazine editors and multi award winning international video artist (and San francisco drag legend) Paul Rowley.

Each of the contestants should have created an alter-ego - their alternative "Miss" to be realised through elaborate and skilful constume and performance on the night. There'll be dancing, singing, mimes, props a plenty, a tonne of make-up, some debatable genitals, plenty of nervous passion and, usually, at least one contestant who manages to push some kind of boundary. The audience love it."

The entrants, known as "aspiring Queen Cailíns", compete for only the title as there is no prize-money. The awards are refashioned each year from the cheapest possible assembly of materials.

The Crown is known as the Medusa Crown of Shamrocks, and last year it took the form of a large silver spike with an impaled seagull as the photo of last year's winner Sheila Fitzpatrick shows below.

"The idea of an Alternative Miss, which in Irish translation becomes "Alternative Daughter", as an alternative ambassabdor for the country, tugs at the concept of the Women of Ireland, the Mná na hÉireann, who have been invoked into action throughout Irish history, most recently in the campaigns for reforms in equality and human rights status."

So says the AMI website. But the reaction of people on forums - "YAY! Really looking forward to this..."; "This night is the one fun crazy night"; "The fun..the money..the madness! That's what makes AMI... I can't wait" is an indication that this is an event both loved by and important to those who go and enjoy it.

Tickets go on sale today from the Olympia Theatre Box Office. It's bound to be a different night to the shamroguery and paddywhackery taking place in Dublin around the time, all monies raised go to a great cause and you can always say you were there to see the last Alternative Miss Ireland of the first decade of 2009 crowned. And that, in itself, will be quite a story to tell.

The curious case of the new U2 video and YouTube copyright

It's my last post on this, I promise (other than an update perhaps). I just wanted to tell those interested what happened. I'm not sure whether to be impressed or scared.

So I saw the video was posted on Facebook yesterday and blogged the link. I then searched YouTube for it, couldn't find it anywhere so I downloaded the Facebook video and uploaded that to YouTube. All good so far, I embedded it on the blog and things were fine.

I then get a note from YouTube at 19:10:

Subject: Information about your video

Dear darraghdoyle,

Your video, u2, may have content that is owned or licensed by UMG.

No action is required on your part; however, if you're interested in learning how this affects your video, please visit the Content ID Matches section of your account for more information.

Sincerely,
- The YouTube Team

So I visited the site, spent some time reading the guidelines and decided to submit a claim to their dispute centre, filled out their form under

2. This video uses copyrighted material in a manner that does not require approval of the copyright holder. It is a fair use under copyright law.

which, given the fact that U2 don't seem to have an official YouTube channel and hadn't uploaded the video themselves, seems fair enough to me. I don't own the copyright, neither though do I profit in any way from it being on YouTube. Neither though do I dispute the fact it's not mine, so if YouTube decide it's not, then fair enough...

At 01:30 this morning I received an email from YouTube Support:

Subject: Copyright claim dispute - U2 - Get On Your Boots

Dear darraghdoyle,

In response to your dispute regarding a content identification match, UMG has reviewed your video U2 - Get On Your Boots and confirmed their claim to some or all of its audio content. As a result, your video is no longer available.

UMG claimed this content as a part of the YouTube Content Identification programme. YouTube allows partners to review YouTube videos for content to which they own the rights. Partners may use our automated video/audio matching system to identify their content or they may review videos manually.

Please take a few minutes to visit our Help Centre section on Copyright Tips, where you can learn more about copyright laws.

Sincerely,
The YouTube Content Identification Team

A minute later at 01:31 I received this email:

Subject: Copyright claim removed on U2 - Get On Your Boots

Dear darraghdoyle,

The claim on your video, "U2 - Get On Your Boots", has been removed by UMG. Your video has been restored to its original state.

Please take a few minutes to visit our Help Centre section on Policy and Copyright Guidelines, where you can learn more about copyright laws and our Video-Identification Service.

Yours sincerely,
The YouTube Content-Identification Team

Then at 01:32 I received an email word, for word like the original:

Subject: Information about your video "U2 - Get On Your Boots"

Dear darraghdoyle,

Your video, U2 - Get On Your Boots, may have content that is owned or licensed by UMG.

The video I had uploaded and embedded on this blog had been working. Right now, just like some of the other Get On Your Boots videos uploaded in the last 24 hours, it's muted. There are many others that aren't though. I've submitted another dispute form asking for clarification, just so I know what's going on.

In the meantime I embedded the video from a No Line on the Horizon blog which is working, like the others above. I'm curious to find out why those videos are allowed but mine isn't. It's the reasons why not rather than just the "principle" of the thing. A strange situation, eh? I'll let you know...

Ben & Jerry's Ireland are now on Facebook and I'd love a tub.

It's just gone noon and I'm starving. To have this in front of me:



which is about Ben & Jerry's Baked Alaska, vanilla ice cream with marshmallow swirls and white chocolatey polar bears:



and to see that 'Yes, Pecan' is a mixture of chocolate ice cream with white and dark chocolatey chunks with pecans, walnuts and chocolatey covered almonds



Well, it's just torture. Time to go shopping I think. I must actually dig out my Ben & Jerry's scooping certificate - I'm a trained and certified Ben & Jerry's ice cream scooper - one of the best things about working in the cinema, I reckon.

You can become a fan on Facebook here and check out their website.

What's your favourite film? People in Dublin tell JDIFF

Last month, a video was filmed as part of the 2009 Jameson Dublin International Film Festival where people were asked to name their favourite films. Here it is:



I do apologise. Blame Anthony - he sent me the email saying

The Jameson Dublin International Film Festival would like to know what your favourite film of all time is? We need one hundred people to help us with an exciting new marketing campaign that features you!

All you need to do is come along this Saturday the 6th December and have your picture taken and tell us what your favourite film of all time is and then do the same thing all over again to camera. Pictures taken will be featured as part of a fabulous print and online campaign for the 2009 festival.

So I went and I did it and now I'm part of the advertising. In fact I'm apparently on a big poster in the window of Filmbase, Temple Bar, one of the "lucky" ten. People are emailing/texting me along the lines of

"Can you imagine how frightening it was to see your face enlarged by about 100 times plastered on a poster on the front window of Filmbase?"

When we were at the Festival launch on Monday in the Odeon, I walked into one part to find the monstrosity below staring back at me. Bizarre is one way of describing it. The lighting was pink, explaining the poster. Even worse I found out I adorned a pillar outside too.





So there you have it. It's the 1997 Roberto Benigni film La Vita é Bella for me, at 2:40 in case you're that interested. In defence of my wardrobe, that was the day I filmed the Hibernian Ad - I don't dress as well as that normally!

What's your favourite movie? Can you limit it to just one?