An Update from Ireland

It's incredibly hard to feel inspired to write a good post while glancing at the daunting pile of critical essays I should be reading. Still, I am staring at these pages in a computer cluster at NUI Galway...

Ireland is as wonderful as it always has been and the Irish are as fun as I hope they always will be. While I wouldn't want to live here, there's no doubt in my mind that I'd choose to visit Ireland before almost any other place in the world. I have yet to find a place as great as this tiny island-off-an-island-off-the-coast-of-Europe.

Even when the Irish fulfil all stereotypes of being light-hearted and fun they are still shockingly well-informed and perceptive. Their sharp wit can be suddenly reigned in as serious debates about National Identity (intentionally capitalized) capture the interest of the room. The most unassuming people will constantly surprise you with their detailed knowledge of Irish history and their incredible insights into current events.

In my opinion, Ireland is a very particular type of woman. On the outside she is the perfect hostess -known for her talents in music and for the quality of the food and drinks she serves. Her beauty leaves visitors in awe and her welcoming charm ensures that her house is always full of guests. However, there is a side to her that visitors never get to see. Her life has been full of struggles and sorrows as she has seen her possessions seized and her children killed or force to flee and, even within her own home, her children at arms with each other.  Beneath her smiles and graces she is a woman of amazing strength and perseverance and hardly any of her visitors will ever know it.

Living on your own is only occasionally lonely

Despite the fact that I have spent the last month living alone I suppose I don't feel half as lonely as I should. Really, the first week is sort of rough but after that you develop enough of a general dislike for other humans that you really just prefer the cosy cocoon of an empty apartment.  I don't mean to sound like the proverbial old cat lady but I genuinely think that enough time spent alone makes you indifferent to human contact. Perhaps this will change as time goes on but, at the moment, I think I'd fare pretty well on my own.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I would enjoy house arrest. I do still leave the building - It's just that I do so on my own. Nor am I saying that I'd fare well in a lonely post-apocalyptic society. In that case there'd probably be no cable and I'd be absolute crap at rearing my own animals. 

In fact, the only pro of my new found tolerance of solitude is that it forces a certain degree of intellectual reflection. Note, I did not say internal reflection. If anything being on my own has made me even more obtuse to my own shortcomings and even more intolerant of others’ but, being on your own means you don’t have to care!

However, I don’t intend to mislead you by pretending that living on my own has been an entirely positive experience. Being alone also means sacrificing a sense of personal security. Ironically, instead of worrying about the more realistic danger of being robbed, living alone seems to have fueled my, slightly unrealistic, childhood fears. Yes, I am saying exactly what you think I’m saying. Living alone has made me inexplicably terrified of under my bed; in my closet; bathrooms with the lights off; anywhere with the lights off; noises in the night; not having my feet under the cover and keeping my eyes closed for extended periods of time.  Though I should point out that this was not completely unprompted – I blame this almost entirely on the fact that the cable company sees it as their duty to show countless horror movie commercials after 9pm.

City Spirituality

The biggest sin in London is to study it in abstraction – to learn the city through satellite images and sociology journals.  From the cozy perch of a library desk it’s easy to generalise the buzzing groups of pedestrians into mindless herds or to view the emptying churches as signs of an increasingly secular city but London is all of these things and none of them. Within the herd no two people trod the same path and outside of the church each individual worships a religion of their own.

While the sound of nearby church bells filter through the street, signaling the start of an ancient rite, a practiced fisher of men welcomes a weary disciple to a barstool and pours him a drink. 

Across the street, a devout young woman stares in reverent wonder at the saintly statues in the showcases - those idols whose embellished bodies, adorned with beads and fabric, serve as reminders of how people should live. 

In this city where fortunes change as quickly as the weather, a man in rags begs for alms while one in a crisp suit claims a tithe.  Oblivious, an aging scholar lets his worn shoes lead him down the familiar path of the halls where seeds of learning are sown and minds are harvested.

An aspiring author wanders the city, tracing the footsteps of some great orator or literary saviour as old as the cobblestones underfoot. Nearby, a casual historian enters a doorway to view a collection plate filled with the treasures of countless other nations.

One devotee follows the star on an illuminated sign to worship at the altar of the coffee counter while, in a stately building; parties prophesy apocalyptic results and resurrect dusty tomes of policies and precedents.

Somewhere, choirs of voices rise from the spotlighted stages of theatres, singing hymns in praise of spandex and sequins while, down a nearby alley a red light signals to wary pilgrims a gateway into the Holy Land.

Nostalgia

As a result of having lunch at a pub called the Duke of York today I can’t get that bloody nursery rhyme out of my head. However, it got me thinking about other nursery rhymes that I grew up with and I came to realize that I had forgotten quite a few of them. What will happen when (if?) I’m a mother and I can’t remember these to pass them on to my children?

So this is an attempt to sort of informally archive some of the best nursery rhymes of my childhood (and I included links to the complete rhymes in case there were any some of you didn't know/couldn't remember).

The list was pretty long so I didn't include the basics like Little Miss Muffet, Three Blind Mice, This Little Piggy etc. but even then...I'm noticing a theme... Most of our nursery rhymes were either VERY BRITISH or VERY CARIBBEAN

** Feel free to add some of your favourites that I may have forgotten or never even heard in the comments section! **

One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Christmas is Coming

Georgie Porgie 

Goosey Goosey Gander 

Grand Old Duke of York 

Hot Cross Buns

Jack be Nimble 

Jack Sprat  

Little Boy Blue 

Little Jack Horner 

London Bells

Mary Mary Quite Contrary 
Monday's Child

Old Mother Hubbard 

One Two Buckle My Shoe 

Pease Pudding 

Pat a Cake, Pat a Cake 

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater  

Pussycat Pussycat

Remember Remember

Ride a Cock Horse 

Sing a Song of Sixpence

Seesaw Marjory Daw 

The Owl and the Pussycat

There Was a Crooked Man

There Was an Old Lady 

There Was an Old Woman  (Wow..lots of old people).

There Was a Little Girl   My mom said this describes me...  :S

Three Little Kittens

Two Little Dicky Birds 

Caribbean - Unfortunately most of these song versions are from Belafonte who DID NOT make any of them up.

Brown Girl in the Ring  This song has been played at just about every wedding I've ever been to
(Listen Here)  or, if you're up for a laugh, here's The Wiggles version hahaa

Coconut Woman  (Listen Here)

Dis Long Time Gyal   (Listen Here)

Everytime Ah Pass  (You'll have to go through this site to hear it).

Island in the Sun  (MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE) (Listen Here)

Jamaica Farewell   (Listen Here)

Linstead Market (Listen Here) 

Matilda   (Went out of my way to find a pre-Belafonte version so damn well listen)

Yellow Bird  (Listen Here) 

A(completely fictitious) Report on Ergophobia.

Ergophobia  is classified as an abnormal and persistent fear of work, finding work or functioning at work.

Many scholars have been debating the recent spike in ergophobia among the young adult population. Often linked with “Peter Pan Syndrome” and “Failure to Launch Syndrome,” there is now great speculation among researchers that ergophobia is the most important issue facing this generation of young adults.  At the heart of this line of inquiry is the core belief that a young adult who fails to find profitable work or independent lodging is suffering from some form of social disorder. Psychological theory then, places the problem within the individual referring to it as a personal abnormality that cripples what would otherwise be normal social functioning.  This report seeks to counter the notions of personal fault that have hitherto dominated the field by proposing a variety of external factors that may lead to the development of ergophobia.

List of External Factors

1. Learned Helplessness –  As displayed with animals who stop attempting to resist electrocution once they believe it inevitable, it is possible that young adults who are repeatedly faced with rejection from job applications develop a case of Learned Helplessness where they assume that all of their attempts at employment will be similarly unsuccessful.
    
2. Negative Associations –  After the individual and his/her peers have developed unrealistically heightened expectations through reinforcement by teachers and parents it is only inevitable that upon observing the failures of peers the individual attributes similar expectations to his/herself.
    
3. Social Conditioning – With the increasing awareness of parental techniques and the importance of spending time with children young adults are finding increasing comfort in their home environment. This sense of security and happiness could lead to an individual’s reluctance to change his/her environment by leaving the family home and finding independence.
    
4. Evolutionary -  Evolutionary psychologists would undoubtedly argue that the increase in ergophobia is related to the close links between finding work and having to live independently of the family. From an evolutionary standpoint, this independence is seen as negative because group living ensures the highest level of security for the individual.

******

In more realistic news - I felt the need write this fictious report for multiple reasons. 1) Because it comforted me overmy current inability to find a part time job.  2) Because I was reading a psychological journal yesterday.  3)  Because I needed a break from studying  4) Because if I didn't I'd have had nothing else to say. I spent the last few days eating, sleeping and reading more literature than I know what to do with.

This is London! How d'ye like it?

Why waste your words when someone else has already summed up all you wish to say?

Here’s something for you to chew on – John Bancks’ “A Description of London” written in 1738. Funny how hundreds of years later his verses still capture the atmosphere of the true London.

A Description of London by John Bancks

Houses, churches, mixed together,
Streets unpleasant in all weather;
Prisons, palaces contiguous,
Gates, a bridge, the Thames irriguous.

Gaudy things enough to tempt ye,
Showy outsides, insides empty;
Bubbles, trades, mechanic arts,
Coaches, wheelbarrows and carts.

Warrants, bailiffs, bills unpaid,
Lords of laundresses afraid;
Rogues that nightly rob and shoot men,
Hangmen, aldermen and footmen.

Lawyers, poets, priests, physicians,
Noble, simple, all conditions:
Worth beneath a threadbare cover,
Villainy bedaubed all over.

Women black, red, fair and grey,
Prudes and such as never pray,
Handsome, ugly, noisy, still,
Some that will not, some that will.

Many a beau without a shilling,
Many a widow not unwilling;
Many a bargain, if you strike it:
This is London! How d'ye like it?