Archive for the 'movies' Category

Trains to Brazil

I really should watch more movies. But i’m always reluctant too. It seems like a whole two hours that i could spend reading books or making brownies instead.

But when I do manage to quell the restless hyperactivity I do tend to enjoy it.

Dosed with the cold I watched Cidade dos Hommens. A further feature film from a series of TV shows that began original in the film City of God.

I find Rio the most intriguing city in the world. I loved my time there (all 5 days of it) and the geography of the place blows me away. And where in the world are the worst poverty stricken residential areas the ones with the best views?

Movies are so full of purely western cultural ideas and contexts. Movies like this are a useful reminder that the rest of the world actually exists. Even if it only reminds us that it exists in poverty and violence.


Broken Bridges

to celebrate the return of the Belfast-Dubln line (after the railway fell into the sea) I took a day return to see Transfarmer and revelled in the ability to read and doze and sip whisky instead of directing the volvo down the long and boring road that is the M1.

I considered trying the reading, dozing and whisky while driving but decided it mightn’t end well.

Cracking meal in this place – my chorizo appetite knows no bounds.

Called in at this place to watch An Education before my train back.

Nick Hornby wrote the screen play.

Now i like Nick Hornby. Or rather i like some of his books. I loved about a boy, i live my life by what i learned from High Fidelity. I might like Nick Hornby too but i don’t know him and he lives in London and so i see no prospect of getting to know him.

An Education is somewhat of a let down. Basic take home message seems to be this:

If you’re prettier and smarter than your class mates then be sure to engage in an illicit afair with a married man in order to learn the fundamental life lesson that men are bastards and women are idiots (at least when it comes to men). This will ensure a happy and more fulfilled later life.

Sounds of summer

Some of you come here for bitchy posts about medicine and the NHS. To be perfectly honest we’ve had a pretty decent summer. Everyone buggers off to Spain and the Balaerics for two weeks and get sick in other countries or fall over and break their arm in Portstewart and end up in other hospitals apart from mine.

People don’t come to this part of the world for their hols. They used to come in huge numbers for a bit of a riot around Drumcree but we seem to have moved on some what.

Swine flu has had a bit of an impact. We have lost our paediatric area to become a swine flu isolation area where we have to wander around dressed up like someone from the moon landings just to take a history from a very well looking patient.

Despite huge amounts of coverage telling people NOT to turn up at A&E or their GP but to ring first, people still keep turning up. We shout at them mainly when they do. Tis the caring profession.

Despite seeing a good 10-15 patients with flu and my own family getting it I’m still going strong. Be it chance or the rigorous immune system that goes with working in A&E I’m still fighting fit. I’m all for getting it to be honest. The idea of a week or two of enforced isolation with nothing but some paracetamol, some DVDs and shelf of books fills me with great enthusiasm. In my fantasy I’ve blanked out all the flu-symptoms that come with having flu. I’ll keep the fingers crossed for some fevers and arthralgias.

There have been times in the past few weeks where there haven’t been any patients in the department waiting to be seen. People have been seen promptly and thoroughly, often getting the time, dignity and grace that they deserve. Without the doubt the whole place and system runs so much more smoothly and better at times like these.

So how do you measure quality of care? How do you measure it genuinely and honestly? And do we really want to pay for it?


But it’s hardly all work. I was at U2 being blown away by the sheer scale and audacity of the thing. Feeling slightly bad that I’d prefer to be leaning on the railings at the sound desk in somewhere like Vicar St or the Empire.

I have seen U2 in Croke. That was box ticked. If I see Bruce then I’m not sure what else there is to live for so I’ll put that off for a while.

I saw Potter at a 1030am matinee. I liked it. Though it’s been about 3 or 4 years since i last read the book so I’d forgotten half of it. Despite running to three hours it felt very, very rushed. Too many disparate parts that seemed to have no discernible link.

I had a ride on the train from Sligo to Dublin and found some theses throughout the train:


I’m not sure Translink are quite with the program yet.

I’ve been working my way through Subverting Global Myths, with my black biro underlining virtually everything and scribbling little comments of approval in the margins. There’s sections with titles like “rediscovering Christian integrity” that get me all excited. There will be more quotes no doubt. If the gospel is not socially, politically and relationally radical then I want none of it.

I had some time on call in work and learned that when trying to put an IV in a child that’s fitting then it’s generally best to use the half of the child that’s not fitting.

I made a kick ass roast dinner for a stack of people and we ascended to new levels of interpersonal communication by requesting songs off spotify by texting knoker sitting by the computer in the corner.

I became intimately acquainted with the inside of a 2002 VW polo and realised that if the car stereo isn’t working then it’s cheaper to but a 15 pence fuse that a 70 quid new stereo. Every day’s a school day I suppose.

Beauty dies young

I am kind of a baz luhrmann fan. Not the whole sunscreen thing. That was just weird.

Magnolia was in the top 5 for quite a while till it got squeezed out by eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

having said that i have never seen romeo and juliet. Neither have i read the shakespeare version or read it in school.

i know the story – it is embedded in so much of what surrounds us.

So here in Dublin on a rainy night i watched it. And bloody hell it was good.

From the dialogue, to the religious icons, to the swords, to the cross dressing, to the angel wings and swimming pools, to the cars, to pete postelthwaite, to the whole shebang.


Despite knowing the ending through and through i still watched it somehow hoping she’d wake up in time.

the tragedy and melancholy appeals to virtually every bone in my body. and there’s a lot of them.

How could I just kill a man

Just watched In Bruges.

Such a film.

I love them sitting on the bench rationalising their assassination and comparing it with the morality of helping little old ladies with their shopping.

The doubting, thoughtful, repentant assassin is a dying breed.

For some reason I don’t think it would work if they weren’t Irish. What does that say about us?

Devil in the details

I wonder how Islam felt over slumdog millionaire borrowing “allahu akbar” for the apex of the pursuit of what looked awful like the American dream. Especially when uttered by a dying, lapsed, muslim,money grabbing gangster.

Happiness only real shared

Is there anyone who’s seen into the wild who knows where he’s coming from – though more the freedom in in wilderness and travelling than the hating the parents and starving to death thing..

If everyone I loved died or vanished and I was left as a stranger in the word then I’d be gone. It is only the people that keep me here.

I dream of Kerouac it seems.

Itchy feet…


October 2019
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