Nooo!

CNN Headlines of the day:
"Close dancing, topless flashing great boy band," "Man punches shark" and, seriously, "How to hide from 'squid' people."

So guess what, blogosphere?
Yesterday I opened my Queen's email and found a lovely message from one of my three professors-to-be. He told me to "take it easy," because he wasn't going to be here for the first two weeks and we'd start class in mid-October. Yay!
And while I was taking it easy, he wrote, the only thing I need burden myself with is the task of reading five 500+ page Victorian novels.

Sure, why not; it's not like I came to Northern Ireland to ever leave my dorm room.

So for the past two days I've been hustling through Jane Eyre with The Cranford Chronicles, The Way We Live Now, and Tipping the Velvet on the horizon. Great Expectations gets the axe because I've already read it twice.
Plus, I have to watch the BBC adaptations which have always looked pretty dire. Christina liked them, though, so maybe they're ok. Plus, Tipping the Velvet is about lesbians, so it can't all be bad, right? And The Way We Live Now is a "radical exploration of the dangers associated with speculative capitalism," which sounds...
No, it sounds really boring.

So while all my little freshmen friends are going to clubs with fuck all to do, I'm rapidly trying to find out if Jane ever marries Lord Rochester.
And I have two other classes, both starting tomorrow.
And I have to go on a study abroad visit to live with an Irish family this weekend, so I can't just hole up and read.

Good Christ, St. Christopher, protect me now.

Photojournal vol. 3

The Botanic Gardens




Theories for this picture:
The boy in the front seat is obviously doing something pleasurable to the bus' pedals/wheel/something, causing the bus to close it's eyes in sheer ecstasy. Obviously, a crash is imminent.


Ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga ga


The Titanic district


The world's biggest bowling trophy


The world's biggest hula-hooping trophy


The scales of justice where actually stolen during the troubles. Symbolic and anarchistic.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey Bennington students, let's play architecture compare and contrast!


VS.




VS.



Queen's is pretty swank. The Student Union has over three pubs and the main building is beautiful. But does it have New England charm?




Sorry, ladies!


I really enjoy the new trend in public service announcements mimicking horror movies. Like Montana Meth (thanks Ian D-T!), this billboard's point is to completely disturb you. I completely welcome this.


Belfast is protected by roving bands of pirates.




I'm collecting these phrases. I already have three. Guess which ones! (Also, note the well-dressed bum)


Stokes






This kid's shirt says "Rock Attitude" on it. Also, he's watching a fashion show in the middle of Castle Court mall.




Sexy Little Bride


Blo jobs all night from the diper ma slut!




The longer I thought about this billboard, the funnier I found it.

Photojournal vol. 2

Hey dudes,
I'm posting more photos now of my initial Belfast arrival.
This is where Pat took us to the Catholic side of the peace wall.



A memorial




This house has a trampoline behind it. My guess is so bricks thrown over the wall will ricochet back over. Or, you know, to bounce on.

Pat took us to a Catholic church where he gave us 5p coins to dip in the holy water. This church's holy water, he said, was blessed by the Pope in Italy and shipped over specially. We're supposed to buy jewelry boxes to send home to somebody sick. I meant to do it, but didn't...




The Bobby Sands mural - according to Pat it's the most famous mural in the world.

These are all from a wall of other causes and people that the Nationalist Northern-Irish support (or don't).













Next... Derry!

Eureka!

Watching last night's debate I finally figured out who John McCain reminds me of:
(drumrolllllll)
Howard the Duck!

Not the funny, crass Howard the Duck of the comics, but the gnomish, awkward Howard the Duck of the George Lucas movie smash.

Observe:






However, I think we can all agree that the debate would have swung more in McCain's favor if he had approached it like his feathered doppelganger:



When you share this remarkable discovery with friends and colleagues remember to credit me!

Northern Ireland Playlist No. 2: The Zach Braff Effect In Effect

CNN Headlines of the day:
"Crab hitches ride on jellyfish," "Singer has some fame, but no 'Zach Braff effect,'" and the puzzling "Woman goes raw, loses half herself."


What I'm listening to this week - a bouncier playlist this time. If nothing else, please check out the bonkers new videos from TV on the Radio and Ben Folds. The rest is old as dirt.

1. The Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop
2. Nirvana - Molly's Lips
3. Blondie - I'm Gonna Love You Too
4. TV On the Radio - Golden Age
5. Thurston Moore - Patti Smith Math Scratch
6. Sonic Youth - Superstar
7. Blondie - Will Anything Happen?
8. Ben Folds feat. Regina Spektor - You Don't Know Me
9. Marc Almond - Tears Run Rings
10. Fleetwood Mac - The Chain












http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRiyN_Zn5L8&feature=related

It's Always Sunny in Belfast

Hey evveybuddy,

News:
Nan bread and lemon/chive hummus has become my drug of choice. It is delicious.

I've become addicted to British game shows. Most daytime tv here is either antique shows, real-estate makeover shows, plus Jeremy Kyle (Jerry Springer UK) and the unfortunately named Loosewomen (The View UK).
But, oh, come afternoon it's all about Countdown, the cheapest game show in existence. With just a big fake-o clock (that only half of is required to work), some brains and dictionaries, it is easily my favorite show here. They even have celebrity guests who just gab about whatever they feel like in the middle of the show during an allotted time-waster spot each day (past topics have been butt-exercises and bad motels.
Sometimes the letters that the contestants have to unscramble even spell dirty words! Oo-la-la!



Next up is Deal Or No Deal. You may remember this as the most irritating show on the planet, featuring bikinis, shiny things and Howie Mandel post-transformation into a sentient penis. The UK version is surprisingly low-budg in comparison, featuring desperate people, ugly red boxes and some guy who looks like a lion in bad shirts.
Compare and contrast:





And lastly, it's the Weakest Link, still going strong in it's homeland. Until classes start next week, I am living the life of an unemployed pensioner.

I am, however, keeping up with American tv as I can. The Office is back and my oh my is it welcome. Project Runway's going strong, even though this collection of contestants kinda blows. I'm rooting for Leanne who resembles 15 other Portland girls I know and, with Korto, is heads above the rest of the competition. I'm also rooting for Kenley to choke on her own arrogent self-entitlement.
I've also been watching True Blood, because Alan Ball is sweet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In other news, yesterday I had the uncomfortable experience of walking around in my nice, blue soccer jersey from Portland. Little did I know that I was unintentionally representing the Unionist team the Raiders (I think) in my heavily Catholic neighborhood.
Therefore:



Everyone looked completely incredulous. Some people obviously wanted to beat me up, others were afraid I would start trouble in their shops. It was awful. Only after seeing about five guys in red jerseys did I really put two and two together and get my ass home. Luckily I had the necklace my aunt gave me of St. Christopher, the cannibalistic, dog-headed patron saint of travelers. Hopefully he will continue to protect me against these potato-eaters.
Now that the threat of death is looming and it's finally started to rain outside (goodbye sun for the year) I'll just wait it all out with Deal or No Deal for a while.

Photojournal vol. 1

Howdy y'all,

My computer has arrived in the UK and now I can share some of the sights of an uncharacteristically sunny Belfast that I've seen in the last couple of weeks.

I just finished eating cheapo Chinese food (featuring French fries!) and watching Mean Girls with one of my house mates. Belfast has a huge Chinese population, so there are Chinese places every couple of miles. Ordering Chinese food in Ireland is a weird cultural experience - just the type of eye-opening event I'm sure the Bennington study abroad advisor had in mind when she helped me get here.

Also, now that I've played a foreign-coded DVD in my computer youtube videos don't have sound. Does anyone know why??? What did I screw up?

We've been going out the last couple of nights now that it's not just me and the international students in the empty student village. Last night was an epic pub crawl. Did you know the Irish enjoy drinking? Apparently they do. Also, Belfast stops serving alcohol at 1:00, which is absurdly early and prompts everyone to start their nights at around 7:00.

I met a little French girl on the floor of one of the clubs and we talked about settling into Belfast. I asked if she had any friends with her and she pointed to her American friend, Dave(!). He swaggered up to me in a polo shirt and camo shorts. "What's up, bra?" he inquired. "This place is for faggots, bra; they don't have any hip-hop. I went up to the DJ and asked her to play some and she didn't. I want those 'apple-bottom jeans! boots with the fur!' They didn't even know who the White Stripes were." The last assertion was proved false when "Fell in Love With a Girl" played later.
Embarrassing.

The girl who lives next to me is really into John McCain and left the room when I was talking about how angry I was that the Democrats are letting offshore drilling start up. The Irish, on the other hand, fucking hate him. "George Bush - he's a twat," asserted my friend Adrienne. "And Sarah Palin, she's farther right than Hitler," said Darrah, the politics and history major.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Someone at the PDX airport remembers Lit


This guy loves cougars and it's not a crime




This is the face of the British movie star


In the first week the IFSA-Butler study abroad program paid for us to take a Black Cab tour around the city. Enter Pat, the cab driver.
Pat is a middle-aged man with a long mullet that's bleached and spiked in the front. Upon meeting us he encouraged us to look him up on Bebo. I pass that invitation on to you!.
He immediately drove us to the Protestant part of Belfast to show us the "world's best open-air art gallery." He was referring to Belfast's famous murals.

As he warmed to us his views on the Protestants became crystal clear: they are, on the whole, cowardly murderers. Fortunately, he said, he knew we were Catholics upon meeting us.
"How can you tell?" asked a girl.
"If I can put 'Saint' in front your name - that's how I know. Saint Patrick," he pointed to himself, "Saint David," pointing to me, "Saint Emma." He graciously skipped over Tia, the Jewish girl.
He turned and pointed to the little, white houses surrounding us. "Saint Neville," he said with disgust. "Saint William."

"This here was a member of the UFF who tried to put the bombings to a stop. At night the other members killed him in his sleep. This is not in remembrance - this is a trophy," he spat.

"So, is there still a lot of tension?" one of the American girls asked.














Despite what you may think, this picture is glorifying Oliver Cromwell










"This is the Mona Lisa of Belfast," Pat told us, referring to the fact that wherever you stood the gun pointed at you.


Cuchulainn risen from his sickness


The "trophy"


Pat in mid-lecture/rant. Us with our requisite looks of non-commital agreement.





Pat then took us to the nearby peace wall - concrete walls erected between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods to deter fighting. There are gates that close between them at 6:00PM and don't open until the morning, meaning that miscreants have to travel hours out of their way to get from one neighborhood to another after dark. Along the top of the wall there is a high fence to keep people from throwing bricks.

Pat took out a permanent marker and had us sign it. "Everyone has to write something on the peace wall." I had absolutely nothing of substance to add to this symbol of political unrest, so I just wrote my name in surprisingly ugly letters.



At least ten of the other entries were John Lennon quotes and at least six were from Pink Floyd (guess which song!) plus these selected gems:


Gilbo from Australia has some advice for you, Ireland



Pat then took us to where Bono signed the wall, though he wouldn't show us exactly where. "I don't want one of yous coming back in the night and chippin' it off."


Somewhere in here lies Bono's name







Next time: British game shows, Weatherspoons, and more photos!
Is anyone reading this? Leave me a comment!