In my last blog outing ‘The politics of an artistic process’ I went on a rant. A big one. And I was taken to task for it. Rightly so. There’s nothing worse than having to read or listen to someone spewing a barrage  - as was noted; ’you also speak a lot without saying anything, where are your true convictions? What do you want to see or to say?’ I responded in as constructive a manner as was possible but to be honest I was sucker punched. The person who made the comment was absolutely right. I was too right. Too moralistic, too high handed. And it was all too easy, intellectually shallow. All fluff, no substance.

It was about time I was brought to book. Too often I sit down infront of my computer and think about what rant I’ll go on next. There is so much to be dissatisfied with – for sure. There is so much to be frustrated about – no doubt. However, having said all that it is simply not good enough to get up on your soap box and let fly. For one thing it’s tedious and, most importantly, no one, not me the ranter, nor you, the audience, learn anything. Thought, discussion, reflection, debate are left out in the cold. Intelligence goes on holiday until the next blog comes around. Well, I’ve decided that from now I’m going to be more considered. Perhaps I’ll get personal – stick with what I know – and reflect on my perception of things.

Of course, mutantspace.ie is the most obvious place to start as I built it as a vehicle for change, on the back of much work, much thought. More importantly it is a means to create new situations, new tools for people to use in a practical way. Mutantspace.ie seeks a way to new spaces, undiscovered territories that allow us freedom to play, to create outside the control of the mainstream cultural system. However, as this journey moves on, from phase to phase, I find myself needing to dig deeper into contemporary cultural theory, radical political, philosophical and sociological theory, into academia to centre myself, explain what I’m about, what I’m trying to get at.  And there lies the rub. Knowing that I need to start looking at the wider picture and begin contextualising this journey I am on, we are on, I am stumped. At a fullstop. I am reduced to ranting.     

I don’t have the tools to talk about the large political, philosophical, sociological issues of our times. I don’t have the language, the information, the exactness to express that need I have, that desire to explain my frustration with the system in which I live. The control it has over me, the all pervasiveness of it. I am frustrated in my attempts to try and articulate the situation I find myself in – like a baby who knows what they want but can’t say it, can’t be succinct, can only point in the general direction and grunt until someone eventually gets it.  I am a babble machine vomiting goobledegook as I try to make my way beyond the shadow of control into the light of freedom.

To that end, next month I will be introducing an academic column into this blog (written by someone else) and hope that you’ll all come on this journey of discovery with me. In the meantime have a look at this documentary on Antonio Negri. It was sent to me today.  http://multitude.tv/component/option,com_seyret/Itemid,1/task,videodirectlink/id,105/   

As I have said before one thing leads to an other….
In my last foray I met up with Sinead O Donnell see last column.
She invited me to go North in February to see, be part of, help with, a performance week she was curating with others in Belfast. There was to be a Canadian Performance artist one of whom was Paul Couillard. The various Performances, discussions, and collaborations were around the theme “Chaos” A Condition or place of great disorder and confusion and to be held/seen in Belfast’s Catalyst Art Centre, Black box, theatre space, and other Not for Profit Art Spaces.

“A unique Opportunity to observe and participate in new approaches that re consider the role of Performance Art in Belfast and Beyond.”

I had intended going but a family health issue caused me to change tack. I ended up in San Francisco minding our grandson who needed to be away from infections. This Irish Granny volunteered one month.

Paul Couillard had wanted items to be given in Belfast to create his work. I wondered, in this day and age, would I be able to give him something online and so help in a collaboration of sorts.
I was glad to work on this in between baby snoozing, walks in buggies and all the nappy changing…
I worked on a script (see below) and also presented him with instructions on how it could be done. However, but after several e mails and good communications I realised my text was the GIVEN  - how he used it was up to him.  Once this was accepted and understood I waited for the report on what he did. It was interesting.

SCARS by Hilary Williams.
The Beauty of Deforment. The loss of perfect tissue.
Cicatrices, Keloids, Hypertrophic.
The pride of gained scars.
The earned merit in a living world
Ageing scars equal gained experiences.
Scar one.
Shaped like a small croc along her wrist
Flying through the undergrowth skin snags against the rusty barb.
Running home a glove fills with blood
No stitches, no A and E.

Hilary Williams San Francisco Thursday Morning 9.45am 2010.

I presented these series of text/poems (above is one of five). Paul did not use them verbally but explained to his gathered audience about who and where I was as well as our various communications on the work. He then striped to the waist outside Ulster University grass area and invited four people to come and trace the word SCAR on his body which they did. Another artist (Elvira Santa Maria, from Mexico, who now works in Belfast) traced another word AMOR. He asked her why, she said it means love with an e and without a SCAR. She did it over his chest area where he had had open heart surgery. I really felt that my scars and memory plus his actions and the other language all ended up making a really memorable piece of work. So even when I got the e mail and the picture I felt I had done some international collaborative art, from a distance, whilst minding our grandson.

The achievement was good but so also was that my charge had improved in health and we now await the news to the affect that he may or may not need a lung operation.
He may have a small scar, which he might show someday to his friends and talk of the ol’ granny who came to mind him.
I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut,
My weakness is I care too much,
And my scars remind me the past is real
I tear myself open just to feel

Lyrics by Papa Roach.

The afternoon that Paul was performing I spend alone in the Japanese Garden at the Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. A lot of peaceful Zen and warm sunshine. My afternoon off thinking of my own creative effort, that was in action on its own elsewhere. Not bad wha??
I am back in base camp today, in Dublin. Flew the miles home, awake all night, what day did you say it was??

Hello Hilary,

Now that I am back home, I wanted to take a moment to tell you a bit about how I used your “object” in the SUBJECT OBJECT piece. As an electronic text, your contribution seemed ephemeral to me, and I did not feel I could do justice to your words simply by reading them; although I don’t really know you, they come across as authentically your own.

So, taking the liberty of their ephemeral nature as an opening, I chose not to use the text you had sent by directly reproducing it. Instead, I explained to the assembled audience a bit about the nature of our email communication, and then stripped to my shorts, and asked any four audience members to come up and trace the word “scars” onto my body – wherever they felt was appropriate. I did this outside, on the grass lawn near the buoys by the University of Ulster. As this gesture finished and I was beginning to get dressed, Elvira Santamaria said that she also wished to trace the word, even though four people had already done so (one for each section of your text) – and instead of tracing the word “S - C - A - R - S”, she traced the word “L - O - V - E” (and then, when I asked her what the Spanish word for “scars” was, the word “A - M - O - R”) across my chest (where there is, indeed a scar from heart surgery)

I am enclosing a photo of the gesture, taken by Rainer Pagel…

I hope all is well with you and your family.

Warm regards,

Paul

Hy Mayerson and Sean Corcoran step onboard an Amtrak train in Miami on the 12th of March for a not so ordinary journey. They travel for 30 hours through 11 states covering a distance of over 1500 miles until it reaches New York. The entire journey will be captured on camera. Hy is an experienced videographer and Sean uses photography as a tool of his trade.

They will be creating what they call Drive by Shootings of the zooming landscape and there will be a series of themed interviews with the people they encounter. With the footage they create they intend to produce a series of videos, an exhibition and maybe a short film.The journey itself will be broadcast through a live webcam. They are currently collaborating with several recording artists, musicians, a songwriter, a cartoonist, an editor, a web designer and a technician. They are using Skype video calls to fine tune their plans.

They have launched a website/blog with regular updates of the project; www.miamitonewyork.com Hy is a well respected attorney with a practice in Spring City. He is a prolific videographer with a huge archive of video footage that he has created down through the decades. He embraces technology, is a huge music fan and has a great You Tube Channel that
showcases his video work under the nom de plume RedKruzer.

Sean is an Artist based in Waterford, Ireland. He has worked in many different media, from Stained Glass to Sculpture and was the artistic director of The Salvage Shop. Digital Art, Video and Photography are currently central to his practice.

Hy and Sean met in 2005 when Sean was exhibiting his Photo Distortions in Waterford and Hy and his wife Colleen were in Ireland on tour with singer Sean Tyrell. They have kept in touch since then and have collaborated on several videos. Over the past year Hy and Sean have been discussing the idea of creating what would be called the ImaginAIRium based in a large Meeting House on the outskirts of Philadelphia.

Hy is 72 and Sean is 40 so between them they claim to have 112 years of wisdom! The production doesn’t end in New York, Hy will travel back to Ireland with Sean where they intend to continue shooting along the west coast and over to Inis Oirr, one of the Aran Islands. This should prove to be an eventful few weeks. The first expedition of the ImaginAIRium! One to watch.

Become the ultimate Armchair Traveler!
Watch the journey live with our webcast every inch of the way.
Tune in at 11.30 am (GMT) on Friday morning, March 12th as the train departs Miami.
Any difficulties viewing the stream please go to www.MiamiToNewYork.com

The webcast has now been cancelled. See message below:

Hi Moray and all the viewers at The Mutation,

Greetings from a wet and rainy Florida, just wanted to let you know that the live webcast will not be happening this Friday.
We have discovered that it is not practical to broadcast from a moving train as there will be too much interference from the metal structure of the train as well as the movement itself affecting things.
We’re sticking to conventional video and stills camera, 9 in total to be precise and various tripods and other equipment so we will have plenty of things to keep us busy for the 30 hour train journey without trying to maintain a broadband signal. Things are looking good here, we have already captured some great footage from the plane flights and in the US as well. The train leaves from Miami on Friday the 12th March at 4.40 pm GMT.

If you could you might paste this into the article next to the embedded screen, with our apologies.
Thanks again for putting it up and do please stay tuned to www.MiamiToNewYork.com as we will be updating things as soon as humanly possible.

Sean Corcoran and Hy Mayerson.

Do you have memories of any great meals eaten in the past and if so, have you ever tried to recreate them in your own kitchen? My answer to both these questions is, yes, but my attempts to reproduce that dish eaten, say on a foreign holiday, have invariably been unsuccessful and I never know why.

I recall, for example, a May evening when I was swept off my feet by a spaghetti alle vongole served to me in a trattoria on a Roman street. Try as I might, I have never been able to recreate that dish, as I remember it. You may argue that the difference really lies in the ambience, the noise of Rome, the smells of Italian food, the warmth of the summer air, the smooth service of that Italian waiter. Of course, I cannot reproduce the Roman backdrop in my small kitchen but I do have all the ingredients that delivered that dish to me, and logic suggests, does it not, that I should therefore be able to replicate it exactly, here in the West of Ireland? I shall continue trying.

But not all my efforts to recapture the magic of food from the past have ended in failure, and this month I propose to share with you two very different recipes, which evoke for me exceptional culinary memories. In sharing them with you, I also have in mind people who, like me, live alone. Cooking for oneself is always a challenge and I realise that since taking over this column, I have not catered for this category of person. As it happens, both recipes will also be of interest to vegetarians.

Baba Ganoush
In the mid-1980s, my wife and I took the family to Crete on a holiday. At that stage, both of us had been to Greece many times before and were in agreement that it was not a country one would visit for its food. Before leaving, a friend had recommended a taverna near the famous Minoan ruins at Knossos; we were told to order mezédhes, similar to the Spanish tapas or the Italian antipasto. As the holiday neared its end, we remembered that we had a wedding anniversary to mark and off we went to the Knossos restaurant. As instructed, and with no great expectation, we ordered the mezédhes. We were blown over; this was a truly memorable meal. Amongst the many dishes served was baba ganoush but, being then simple culinary folk, we did not recognize it. Identification of this dish came many years later and on the other side of the world.

We were living in Hong Kong and a dear friend invited me to have lunch with her in a Lebanese restaurant in Wanchai. It was a tiny place in a back street run by a middle-aged Lebanese couple. Being a foodie and an Australian, Arja knew her way around ethnic fare and she did the ordering. Down on the table came mezze, like its Greek counterpart, an assortment of different foods, and there again was this mysterious dish that tasted divine. This time, I was told it was baba ganoush and that it was made principally of mashed aubergines. I have since made this dish and it is the exception to the general rule. Made by me, it tastes just as good as it did in Crete and Hong Kong. I owe the Observer Food Monthly a debt of gratitude for this recipe.

2 aubergines, about 600-650g
Juice of ½ lemon
1½ tbs tahini paste
2 tbs natural yoghurt
2 fat garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
1 sprig of thyme, leaves picked
Salt and pepper

To serve

Extra-virgin olive oil, to drizzle A few pinches of sumac, or a little chopped flat-leaf parsley, to sprinkle

Preheat the oven to 220ºC/Gas 7. Prick each aubergine several times with the tip of a sharp knife and place both on a lightly oiled baking dish.

Roast in the hot oven for about 40 minutes until the skins are wrinkly and the aubergines feel soft when lightly pressed. Leave the aubergines until they are cool enough to handle, then peel away the blackened skins and put the flesh into a colander.

Press with the back of a ladle to squeeze out as much liquid as possible. Blitz the aubergine flesh in a blender. Add the lemon juice, tahini, yoghurt, garlic, thyme leaves and seasoning. Blitz briefly, check for seasoning, tip into a bowl, cover and place in the fridge for at least an hour.

When cold, spoon the baba ganoush into a serving dish, drizzle a little olive oil over the surface, sprinkle with sumac or the chopped parsley and serve with warm flatbreads

Welsh Rarebit
Apart from being much less exotic, the second recipe has origins closer to home. When I was a student in Dublin light years ago, the Irish Countrywomen’s Association operated a restaurant on the north side of Stephen’s Green, between the Shelbourne Hotel and the top of Dawson Street. It was divided into two sections. In one, you could have a regular three course lunch and in the other, delicious snacks.

Wholesome and plain was how one would describe all the food served in the Country Shop, as the restaurant was called. Now, not many men penetrated this establishment but I had a male friend, who was much addicted to its fare, and so we were often to be seen in the snack section. I expect that the three course lunch on offer would have been beyond our slender means. Our favourite dish by far was Welsh Rarebit and one day, I had the temerity to ask for the recipe, which is now reproduced below. It is truly authentic and delivers exactly the delicious flavour of that Country Shop dish.

Serves 1

110g cheddar cheese, grated
1 tbs flour
1 tbs butter
2 tbs milk
1 slice of bread, lightly toasted

Preheat a grill to a medium temperature - 3-4 on a scale of 1-5

First make a roux. In a saucepan over a low heat, melt the butter and combine with the flour. Add the milk to the roux, stir in vigorously and you should then have a very thick paste.

Remove from the heat, add the cheese, combine thoroughly with the paste and spread evenly over the toasted bread, making sure that you cover the bread completely. Place under the grill and cook until the top is golden brown and bubbling – about 3-4 minutes. Serve immediately.

While the above is the original recipe as given to me orally, you could vary it by adding a small amount of mustard or a few drops of Worcesteshire Sauce. If you wanted to be a little more daring, you could also substitute beer for the milk. I serve Welsh Rarebit with sausages (as they did in the County Shop, as an optional extra !) and a tomato salad with lots of mustard in the dressing.

Joseph X

Cauliflower is especially plentiful and delicious this time of year. It grows enclosed in its swirling green leaves – and so the head and its undeveloped flowers remain pale (unlike its tan sibling broccoli who grows up near naked). It’s rich in those classically autumnal tastes – milkyness and nuttiness  - but is spearheaded by a sweetness which keeps it relevant through spring. If it’s overcooked on the boil or in the steamer though, the school-lunch bitter aromas become prevalent. The thick white stalks of the leaves – aka ‘poor man’s asparagus’ – can be boiled until tender and eaten straight away with melted butter, lemon and salt. Like all vegetables the flavour becomes flat with age (that is the stage before it starts to rot) so make sure it looks in fine fettle – springy, bright green leaves and an unblemished, radiant head.

Cauliflower soup and quail’s egg
It’s presumably not that often that one has surplus quail’s eggs lying around and needing eating. I once did, and quite a lot of them. I soft boiled them and peeled them. Having softened some white onions in butter and oil and then with them some thinly sliced cauliflower and then shallow braising with some cream, I popped in the quails eggs, each ripped in half.
I added some milk to cover and simmered oh-so gently for five to ten minutes until the cauliflower was tender. Then a mega blitz in the blender and through a sieve so to make it as smooth as possible. It was served and eaten hot (not piping) and the garnish was a grind of pepper.

The decadence in preparation carried through and made for an enriching harmony but without a repeat in quails’ egg surplus no such combination has been repeated. Recently the soup was revisited but with a more humble supply of eggs their presence was made more tangible.

The soup was made similarly to above but eggless. The eggs were soft boiled, peeled and then two or three slightly crushed were popped on top as a garnish two or three to each bowl) with a grind of pepper. Thin golden ribbons of yolk running through the soup as its eaten.

Another, slightly jazzier, way to garnish would be to boil some of the smallest leaves from the cauliflower (those that are creamy coloured and tender). Mix them through with a little sliced wild garlic (which is all of a sudden all abundant) and the crushed quail’s eggs with a drop of olive oil. 

Black pudding, pickled cauliflower stalk and mustardy leaves
Cauliflower stalks, as in the two recipes below, often don’t make the final cut in dishes given their difference in texture and cooking time to the flowers. They are perfectly delicious though and if you are taking on a couple of heads at the same time its worth keeping them and giving them a pickle.

First make your pickling liquor. Roast some spices in a dry pot – clove, coriander seed, mace blade and mustard seeds (adding the latter a little later). When aromas start drifting and the mustard seed begin flying add some cider vinegar. Bring to a boil, take of the heat and add a little sugar and salt to taste. You needn’t peel the stalk; slice it at a bit of an angle and about 6mm in width.

Pop in an appropriate sterilised (washed in hot soapy water and dried in a low oven just before using) jar and pour the tepid vinegar over to cover. It’ll be best when it’s been given from three to four weeks to pickle (in the fridge).

Slice the black pudding a little under an inch and fry in dripping or butter until browned and crisp. Make a dressing with a little of the pickling liquor and some olive oil. You can serve the three components together either as a salad or as little nibble  - each slice of black pudding topped by a couple of slices of cauliflower stalk and two or three dressed, mustardy leaves. 

Cauliflower mash, kidneys, bay and lemon
Pop some unsalted butter in a small pot, with lots of fresh bay leaves and some slivers of lemon zest. On a low heat let the butter melt and come to a simmer, then turn the heat off but leave it on the hop to continue infusing. Slice your cauliflower, removing the leaves and the main stalk. Fry for a couple of minutes in some butter on a medium heat.

Add some cream to fill half way up the cauliflower, season with salt and simmer gently with a lid on. Give the cauliflower an occasional stir and as soon as its tender through its ready. Pour out some of the remaining cream and mash quite roughly, season, add a drop of something acidic (cider vinegar would be ideal) and any of the cream it cooked in to bring it to a desirable looseness.

Peel off from each kidney the thin membrane and any connecting tissue or suet. Cut them in half lengthwise and cut out the fatty core. Season well with salt and pepper, fry at a fair heat in dripping, flat side down first, turning when browned. Its pretty important to have them at room temperature before cooking them so that they can cook through relatively evenly, without the centre remaining pink while the outside is over. Let them rest for a couple of minutes (during which time they will continue to cook through slightly).

Bring the cauliflower and the butter back up to heat and add a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of salt and pepper to taste. Spoon some cauliflower on to each of your warmed plates, then two or three kidney halves and then spoon over the butter with a couple of the bay leaves for each plate. 

Cauliflower, red onion and fried granary bread
Cut florets of cauliflower from the head; keep them relatively similar in size – if you are trying to half one then cut down the stalk then break apart with your hands so that the flowers keeps their admirable natural shapes. Boil in seasoned milk. Drain (leaving the milk for a soup) just before they are tender through (like the kidneys, they will continue cooking as they cool down) and give them a little bash around in the pot to ruffle up some of the corners as you would roast potatoes.
Pop in a bowl, add some thinly sliced red onion rings, olive oil, salt, a little dollop of Dijon mustard if you have some, and red wine vinegar. Mix and taste. As the cauliflower cools slice some granary bread for frying – cut off the crust and into 1 by 2 cm pieces. Fry in hot oil until golden all over, drain, sprinkle with salt, and add a few to each helping of cauliflower salad. 

Giles Clark

Against the Grain is a radio and web media project whose aim is to provide in-depth analysis and commentary on a variety of matters — political, economic, social and cultural — important to progressive and radical thinking and activism. We’re based at the studios of Pacifica station KPFA-FM in Berkeley, California.

ATG focuses on meaty theoretical and action-oriented issues that the mainstream media tends to ignore, matters like political economy, the global justice movement, philosophical and cultural ideas, and race and gender relations. We strive to bring these perspectives to the airwaves in a way that’s accessible, engaging, and, most of all, useful to people working for social change.

Please join us, listen in, and let us know what you think. And if you like what we’re doing, pass the word along. You may even want to ask your local community radio station to carry ATG

 

Everyday Life and Cultural Theory: An Introduction by Ben Highmore

Ben Highmore traces the development of conceptions of everyday life, from Georg Simmel’s cultural sociology, through the Mass-Observation project of the thirties to theorists such as Michel Curteau.

‘Ben Highmore’s engaging and readable study of how modern and contemporary theorists have defined and examined everyday life provides a lens for students and scholars alike through which to examine a central issue in cultural studies and social thought.’ 

Ivan Karp, Emory University

‘Highmore has produced a valuable resource for teachers in all the disciplines that are concerned with the study of culture. He addresses the key thinkers who have defined the major variants of this crucial construct of cultural theory, and he has done so both accessibly and brilliantly.’ 

George Marcus, Rice University

Tribes by Seth Godin 

In this fascinating book, Seth Godin argues that now, for the first time, everyone has an opportunity to start a movement - to bring together a tribe of like-minded people and do amazing things. There are tribes everywhere, all of them hungry for connection, meaning and change. And yet, too many people ignore the opportunity to lead, because they are “sheepwalking” their way through their lives and work, too afraid to question whether their compliance is doing them (or their company) any good. This book is for those who don’t want to be sheep and instead have a desire to do fresh and exciting work. If you have a passion for what you want to do and the drive to make it happen, there is a tribe of fellow employees, or customers, or investors, or readers, just waiting for you to connect them with each other and lead them where they want to go. 

Seth Godin is a best-selling author and was named by Forbes.com one of the top 5 web celebs in the business world. He holds an MBA from Stanford University, and has been called ‘the Ultimate Entrepreneur for the Information Age’ by Business Week magazine.

Silence: Lectures and Writings by John Cage 

John Cage, a leading figure of the American musical avant-garde and lecturer and writer extraordinary, dedicated himself to the search for new horizons in musical composition. Silence is a collection of some of the essays and lectures that have made John Cage’s name synonymous with all that is unpredictable and exciting in contemporary miusic. Outrageous they may be, but to anyone who is receptive to new ideas, to fresh and original ways of looking at and listening to things, they are a mine of fascinating discovery. And, as Cage fans will expect, the book also contains a wealth of handy information on collecting mushrooms, fishing through ice, and so on, as well as many anecdotes and Zen-type stories which illustrate Cage’s exuberant artistic pre-occupations. 

John Cage, a leading figure of the American musical avant-garde and lecturer and writer extraordinary, dedicated himself to the search for new horizons in musical composition. His method of composition: an amalgam of chance operations, latitude in performace, the use of electronic sound and the inclusion of ambient noise. His aim: to increase the territory of his art and to celebrate the richness of life.

Once upon a time you would have expected band members to be at least in the same country in order to make music together. Now, thanks to modern technology, being 16,000km apart doesn’t hinder the creative process. Or at least this is what IN VALOUR have found. Indeed, the time difference  has turned out to be an advantage for this musical duo - they enjoy waking up fresh to new music, lyrics or melody which the other band member has been puzzling over ‘til exhaustion. They can each work on certain elements of a track while the other is out cold to the world.

Valerie and howard first met in Sydney where they were members of  trip-hop band ‘Kinetic’. Re-acquainted in Jan ’09 they thought they might work on a handful of tracks, but found that their musical connection was still alive and kicking. They took the name ‘IN VALOUR’, and forged their unique sound from a blend of cultures, styles, tastes and experience. They chose this name because it’s a constant reminder of where they want to be and the crest (which was conceived by Valerie and howard and designed by a Cork artist-Dan O’Connell) is a visual extension of this idea.

IN VALOUR’s tracks have been played on national and local radio and reviewed in many publications  - with positive results;

Dan Hegarty, 2FM said “Listen to these songs, you’ll love them like I do! They’re only starting out, but what a start.” 

Jackie Hayden of Hot Press said that Valerie’s “ultra-tuneful voice floats atop a swathe of dreamy synthy washes”.

Having drawn comparisons to the Cocteau Twins and Zero 7 - Jim Carroll of The Irish Times described their sound as “sultry post-dance floor pop”.
 
IN VALOUR would describe their musical style as song based electronica but you can make up your own mind on this. The next natural step in this musical evolution is to play live and IN VALOUR are delighted to be lined up to play at the Roundy Room sessions, Cork on Thursday 4th March @ 9pm. Thank you Mutant Space!
 
www.myspace.com/invalour

A well-intentioned wedding toast goes horribly awry for a young man and his friends. Malcolm Gladwell is a staff writer for The New Yorker and author of the best sellers “Blink,” “The Tipping Point,” “Outliers,” and “What the Dog Saw”.

The Moth features people telling true, engaging, funny, touching and eye-opening stories from their lives. Hailed as “New York’s hottest and hippest literary ticket” by the Wall Street Journal, The Moth has been producing sold-out storytelling shows for over ten years. Stories are told without notes to a live audience by a wide range of people.

[To hear this story you’ll need to have flash installed on your computer - I am looking to find the easiest non - flash mp3. player so please bear with me. I was only informed recently that people couldn’t hear it…]

 

Maniacal Monsters

From my body,
The blood is draining,
Hair is standing,
It’s fucking raining,
From head to toe,
I’m covered in red,
- some battle wounds,
And I’m almost dead.
I fought some maniacal monsters in the dark,
Some had roared, while others had barked,
I carried a sword,
Forged by my dad,
It did the job,
And it made me look bad,
They came from a dimension,
But I don’t know its name,
But all I heard, it’s so fucking lame,
Released to cause havoc and raised to kill,
Those maniacal monsters are now lying still,
I knew they were coming,
I was told in a prophecy,
Twenty years of training, it was all down to me,
Only 250 were released, into the park,
There I was standing, waiting in the dark,
They attacked after a charge, but I knew what to do.
I’m a trained acrobat,
And I just said “screw you!”,
The first 125 fell, but not with ease,
Over 100 left to slaughter - hurry up, please!!
The final group taken care of, and my dad I was about to call,
Then from the heavens, the rain started to fall. 
It will take me a week to recover, and I did all I could,
My dad you could tell, was very proud,
But all he said was “ Son, you did good.”

Urban Gorilla                    

Urban gorilla,
Why do you point?
Hang on a sec,
Is that a joint?

They think you’re a badass,
But I see a gentle beast,
I don’t know where you’re from,
But most people say East.

You’re a vigilante,
But you can do no wrong,
And they all think,
That Arnie is strong.

You once lived in the mountains,
And were stolen from your mother,
Those sons of bitches
Even slaughtered your brother.

Orphaned and lonely,
But raised by their hand,
Their verbal insanity,
You came to understand.

You out-thought your scientist,
But in their god you would never believe,
Climbing the concrete trees,
Just so you could grieve.

Watching the species,
You sometimes resent,
But you do care,
Because you’re such a gent.

All of the hairless ones,
Aren’t the same
But those who slaughtered your family,
Are the ones you should blame.