Picking Ireland's president

@wwaycorrigan

Ireland is due to elect a new president towards the end of 2025 (the election has to take place by 11 November). Currently, there doesn't seem to be much interest in what's dubbed the Race for the Áras (Áras an Uachtaráin, Irish for the President's Residency, is, unsurprisingly, where the Irish president resides).

So, in an effort to spice things up a little, I'm suggesting a new approach to elect Ireland's next head of state, a post that is largely ceremonial. 

Details of this novel method can be found in the Letters to the Editor section of the Sunday Independent, 13 July edition. It can also be read online by scrolling down on https://m.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-cant-our-politicians-see-the-damage-their-anti-israel-stance-is-doing-to-our-country/a482457731.html. Or, for simplicity, see the screenshot of the letter below. 

I do want to let it be known here that I would consider running for the office should some members of the electorate wish to nominate me. You know where to find me. 

Picking Ireland's president.

'In Car We Thrust'

@wwaycorrigan

The letters-to-the-editor season continues. Below is a screenshot of my latest musings sent to the Irish Independent. It's also available at https://m.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-mark-of-a-good-student-is-growth-so-dont-let-exam-stress-stunt-your-progress/a11539009.html.

Walkers of the world, unite!  

The car is King of Transport in Ireland.

An end to Rip-off Republic of Ireland? One can dream

@wwaycorrigan

Could some good come for Ireland from US president Donald Trump's Liberation Day tariffs?

That's the hope expressed in my latest letter in the Irish Examiner, available at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41605645.html.

Letter to the editor: Three-star Ireland charging five-star prices.

Ireland's leftist landscape: Letter to the editor

@wwaycorrigan

An observation on the state of play in Irish politics in the aftermath of the 2024 General Election.

Below is a screenshot of an online version of the letter in the Irish Examiner. It's also available at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41528087.html and, on the Irish Independent website, at https://www.independent.ie/irish-news/elections-2024/letters-those-who-do-not-cast-a-vote-when-its-their-duty-to-do-so-have-no-excuses/a1669876712.html.

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Ready to do my bit for Ireland — as ambassador to the US

@wwaycorrigan

I couldn't let Donald J. Trump's return as US president pass without making a comment about it.

Below is a screenshot of the online version of my letter on that theme, published in the Sunday Independent of 10 November 2024. It can be found buried in this webpage, https://www.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-john-boyne-takes-a-novel-approach-in-face-of-literary-pretension/a777243096.html.

Able ambassador

With Ireland currently in its own general election campaign — the country goes to the polls on 29 November — I don't expect to receive a call about my credentials to be the next Irish ambassador in Washington DC until a new taoiseach (prime minister) is in place. But I do expect a call nonetheless. 

Now, I would be willing to accept a more minor role as consul. It doesn't have to be the top gig immediately. I'm somewhat flexible.

Washington DC: The right way for Wrong Way.

Round by round we go. Oh no!

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A customer enters one of his regular cafés. He sees some familiar and not-so-familiar faces. On ordering his brew, he also asks the attendant to serve out another round of drinks to the clientèle present, to be put on his tab.

Round-buying drives some people round the bend.

How many times have you seen this happening in a café, restaurant or other similar establishment?

I can't recall it ever happening in my panadería offices in Bogotá. OK, on the very odd occasion I've received an impromptu invite for a coffee but never have I seen a fellow regular wander in and order drinks for all present.

Proper order

Yet, there's something about places that sell and serve alcohol that sees some people go invite crazy — and that's before the booze has gone to their brains. Also, we're talking here about seasoned drinkers who should know better, not once-a-year tipplers.

Such types seem incapable of simply ordering their own drink and no more. It's not proper order if one orders just a solitary drink when in the company of others.

Now, this behaviour would be very welcome if it didn't come with an expectation that everyone else should rally round the round. But it usually does. What's more, one risks insulting the first round-buyer by politely declining the offer.

I struggle to understand this mindset. Or, more accurately, I struggle to understand why certain men — for it's almost always men, especially in Colombia — feel compelled to buy rounds in the first instance. The practice adds another reason for potential conflict in an environment where conflicts can flare up at, quite literally, the drop of a bottle. Or often for much less of an offence.

'Forking out for the fornication partners of others is something that particularly annoys me.'

I figure there's a machismo element to it. In a Bogotá context, this manifests itself as the big man about the barrio, splashing the cash. To a point, that is. Because when the big man starts waiting for others to contribute, he becomes a little smaller in the eyes of both the freeloaders and the more independent-minded drinkers who happened to get caught up in his generosity.

Pay more, drink less

I can understand and even support round-buying when everyone is drinking at pretty much the same pace with the same brew. Or at least a drink at the same price.

This, however, is rarely the case for me. In Colombia, I prefer to drink the bigger presentations. They usually give you more punch for your peso. For example, a 330 ml bottle can be up to double the price per millilitre compared to a 750 ml or litre bottle. Yet, many Colombians opt for the 330 ml bottles. Even in Ireland, my pint of choice was regularly more economical than that of my boozing buddies.

Thus, seldom have I broken even when I get stuck in rounds. Indeed, I've often spent more than double the price of what I had actually drunk. The aforementioned freeloaders are usually to blame for this. These freeloaders are generally made up of barrio bums and female companions of other male imbibers. Forking out for the fornication partners of others is something that particularly annoys me. (It's got to the stage where I'll avoid a watering hole if I see certain round-buying types there.)

Rounds can also be worth it when it's a pay-as-you-order system and the payment method is cash only. The latter is certainly commonplace in Colombia — cash is still king here — yet it's the tab system that dominates in standard tiendas and barrio bars. Pay when you finish up, not as you go. Or, in some cases, pay when you have the money. (See Colombia's credit contradiction for more on the country's taxing tab culture.)

So the hassle of handing out change for each individual order doesn't arise in an average drinking setting in Colombia. In my native Ireland and other high-income nations where card/digital payments have taken over, paying as you order isn't as much of an issue as it might have been in the past.

With all that in mind, rounds should be the exception rather than the norm. And they should be more frowned upon than they currently are. #JustSayNo.

Nonetheless, if somebody wants to buy me a beer or whatever with absolutely no expectations that I'll buy one back, I won't say no to that. It would be better, though, if they treated me to lunch or a coffee or three. It's not more beer that I'm in need of these days.
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Beware the sly left

@wwaycorrigan

Below is a copy of my letter to The Irish Times — a slightly edited version as it is — where I give my thoughts on the results of the local and European elections in Ireland, held on 07 June 2024.

The letter, published in the paper on 12 June, can also be found at https://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/letters/2024/06/12/elections-choices-and-consequences/.

The sly leftists are taking over.

Dawn of the downsizers

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

'You don't know how easy you have it. In my day, life was far worse.'

This is one of the standard ripostes from older folk when they hear youngsters complaining about how bad their current situation is. While this Digital Age has its unique challenges, things were far tougher in the past, so it goes anyway.

Bigger isn't always better.

This, though, depends on how one defines what tough is.

For there are measures, open to much interpretation as such things are, that suggest that millennials from some high-income nations are set to be the first generation in modern times to be less well-off than their parents.

Personally, comparing my wealth and assets to my father's, this less-well-off interpretation seems about right.

Coming up to his 39th birthday, whilst already the father of six children and with two more yet to come, myself included, my Dad was in the process of building his own house on the land of the family farm he inherited.

For me right now, two months away from turning 39, it's highly unlikely I'd get a mortgage approved to even consider buying a dwelling. (For the record, I haven't even looked into it because I'm not sure where I would like to own property, if I want to at all that is. Also, many Irish in my age cohort who opted more for settling down rather than a life of adventure abroad appear to be on a steadier financial footing.)

Generation game

Of course, comparing generations, particularly those born in the late stages of the Technological Revolution and into our current Digital Age, is fraught with complications due to the rapid rate of change in almost all aspects of life.

The household my father was born into in 1943 was rather different from the one I came into just 42 years later.

Where in his mid-teens my Dad was England-bound for an early life of toil in construction, my main concerns at the same age were football and the secondary-school leaving certificate. And I could fret about such matters from the comfort of the family home.

'It's understandable that when more prosperous times came along, these older generations were mesmerised by the materialism that presented itself to them.'

In my early twenties, with a university education already completed, I was able to abandon my budding media career to go travelling around the world. Such opportunities were largely unheard of for somebody of my father's background.

Now, an argument can be made that the less mollycoddled youth that my father and most of his peers had to go through gave a more realistic picture of life's struggles and was thus more beneficial in the long run.

Nonetheless, what few of that generation had was a choice. I, on the other hand, had various options open to me. In most instances, that's a positive (there are times, though, when I think it would be better not to have too many options).

Material world

So, when those born in the 1940s, 50s, 60s and even 70s say that they had it tougher growing up than those of us who came later, this is hard to argue against from a technology and access-to-resources perspective.

Seen in such a light, it's understandable that when more prosperous times came along, these older generations were mesmerised by the materialism that presented itself to them.

In Ireland, we saw this to an extreme extent during the Celtic Tiger years, something I touched on in a 2012 blog story titled, On the road again, naturally.

Some in the country went from what was little more than subsistence living to a life where they couldn't spend money fast enough — borrowed at cheap rates as much of it was.

'More, more, more' and 'bigger is better' were the mantras. And many got quite comfortable with their new comforts.

When the faecal matter hit the ventilator of Ireland's Celtic Tiger boom, some realised the error of their ways. Well, it was more a case that the financial reality was laid bare.

Yet, letting go of the lavishness hasn't been easy. And from my observations, it's the older generations who are more reluctant to do away with rather unnecessary home comforts and associated excessive waste. (Although, hypocrites abound across the generations when it comes to calls to 'reduce, reuse and recycle'.)

The heat is on

To be clear, I'm not calling for a return to something resembling a caveman existence. What I am saying is that many in the comfortable classes could downsize in a host of areas and not really suffer from it.

In fact, doing without certain mod cons might actually improve our quality of life and reduce our carbon footprints.

For example — referring to Ireland and similar countries here — rather than crank up the heating in winter time, there is evidence that suggests having a naturally cooler house may have health benefits. So, where possible, stay warm by being active rather than relying on home heating.

Do note, it's usually easier and more cost-effective to keep warm in a smaller dwelling, too. Does one really need that five-bedroom dormer?

I've let it be known many times before — see my previous story Me, myself and I, for one — that some people could do without cars, that they have them more for convenience than necessity.

Now, I hasten to add that I have previously acknowledged that going without a car is easier to do in cities or areas with reliable and extensive public transport as well as decent infrastructure for pedestrians and cyclists. Much of rural Ireland fails badly in this regard.

I am well aware, too, that such adjustments require a societal mindset change, together with the provision of the means to make adaptation easier to achieve.

Ever-evolving, more efficient technology is helping us to still enjoy certain comforts, to still be as productive, without being an excessive strain on the planet's finite resources and the natural environment.

My peers and I can be the generation that downsizes in a way that is beneficial both to ourselves and the world at large.

This is the dawn of the downsizers.
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Letter to the editor: Ireland's water waste

@wwaycorrigan

Easy come, easy go. That seems to be the mindset for many in Ireland when it comes to using water. My latest letter to the Irish Examiner explains more.

Read it at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41279887.html or see the screenshot below.

Time to turn off Ireland's free-water tap?

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Letter to the editor: My take on the Dublin riots

@wwaycorrigan

My take on the Dublin riots of Thursday 23 November 2023 in a letter to the Irish Examiner. 

Read the letter at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41278258.html (second one down). Or see the screenshot of the letter, below.

Rent a riot: Any excuse to cause mayhem.

Goodbye Nanny State! Hello Overbearing Mother Society

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

'I wish to reply to the opinions of Brendan Corrigan (Letters, 9 October) where he gave his rather right-wing views on child benefit being means-tested.

I have to say that I found Mr Corrigan's views quite worrying. It is obvious to me that he lacks any insight into the world of bringing up children in this State.'

'Please, State. I want some more.'

Child's play

Thus ran the opening lines of the riposte by a Mr Liam Muldowney to my October 2010 letter in the Irish Independent calling for Ireland's child benefit allowance to be means tested. (My letter is at
https://www.independent.ie/opinion/letters/time-to-means-test-child-benefit/26688058.html. Mr Muldowney's reply in full can be found at https://www.independent.ie/opinion/letters/families-already-being-put-to-the-test/26689397.html)

Mr Muldowney was not wholly wrong to state that I 'lack insight into the world of bringing up children' in Ireland. Observing from the sidelines is nothing like actually becoming a caring parent — brief encounters with young nieces and nephews have given me just a taste of the challenges involved.

I also agree that some parents in the country have come to rely on Child Benefit to help buy essentials for their offspring.

My argument at the time — and this remains so — was that another cohort of parents didn't really need this government assistance. For sure, it's nice to get it, but it's not crucial for the survival of the family.

Of course, it's highly unlikely that any Irish government would suggest changing the status quo. Scrapping the benefit for certain parents who are deemed to be high earners but in reality may be rather hard-pressed — relative as that is — would surely be a vote loser.

The least politically toxic way to deal with it would be to set up a mechanism where it could be returned to the state's coffers voluntarily. Window dressing to suit all tastes that. (For more on Ireland's Child Benefit, see https://www.citizensinformation.ie/en/social-welfare/social-welfare-payments/families-and-children/child-benefit/.)

Entitled

Now, I've recalled this 13-year-old letter debate in a bid to preempt any claims of hypocrisy on my part.

No, I'm not in receipt of child benefit (Ireland's welfare system may be rather generous but it's not yet a complete free-for-all where childless individuals can claim financial support for kids they don't have or care for — at least I think not, anyway).

I'm bringing up my old 'right-wing', raw-capitalism opinions because I am now, to use the old expression, an Irish government artist. Yes, I have been granted jobseeker's allowance here in my birth country while I ponder and plot my next move.

In my defence, my application was submitted by as close to happenstance as such a procedure can — I know, I know, I didn't accidentally fill out the forms!

What I mean, is that I was at the welfare office to get a Public Services Card, a prerequisite to do pretty much anything in Ireland Inc. these days.

'The natural progression for a nanny state is to become more like an overbearing mother. It wants to control all aspects of its citizens' lives.'

A long-standing friend in my village had suggested I look for jobseeker's allowance and although I shrugged it off at the time, whilst in the welfare office applying for my Public Services Card I merely asked the woman attending me about this unemployment assistance.

Without asking me if I actually wanted to apply for it, she gave me the forms I needed for an application — namely the Jobseeker's Allowance/Benefit form itself and a Habitual Residence Condition form. The latter was required because I hadn't resided in Ireland over the last two years (make that five since I last visited).

So I filled out these forms with a see-what-happens mindset. Two working days later, I get a letter informing me that my application has been approved.

Most people I speak to here in Ireland, on seeing my slight unease at having been granted this assistance, ask the loaded question, 'Sure aren't you entitled to it?'

Well, clearly I am, officially. At present, I am unemployed, I continue to seek work, my savings in euro terms are minimal and I don't own property nor do I have any assets of note or significant financial investments.

And the way Welfare Ireland operates, one risks being disadvantaged in the future for not applying for a benefit one may be entitled to. Or, better said, disadvantaged for not applying for benefits one most likely would be granted.

By disadvantaged here I refer, for one, to the possibility of being asked to account for the times when you had no income yet didn't seek state aid.

China in our hands

This is how what some call the Nanny State functions.

My unease with it all — alleviated as it is somewhat by the yet-to-be-issued recompense — is that I'm playing along with a system about which I have many misgivings.

You see, the natural evolution of a nanny state is in reverse to humanity. Unlike a human grandmother, the nanny state doesn't become mellower and eventually die.

No, the natural progression for a nanny state is to become more like an overbearing mother. It wants to control all aspects of its citizens' lives.

An authoritarian takeover this is not. In many ways, it's more pernicious than that. It's the gradual removal of one's independence handout after handout, health and safety legislation after health and safety legislation.

'We're doing this for your own protection, little ones.' Quite. One may feel safer and better looked after but this comes at the price of one's independence, individually as well as at family and community level.

Ideally, the state should be like a god, but one that can actually physically intervene where necessary. It should work to enhance the conditions for life's essentials and offer some comfort at times but it shouldn't get directly involved in the day-to-day running of one's affairs.

In much of the West, what we have now, however, is an Overbearing Mother Society.

With that, we're closer to the Chinese model than many care to believe.

Postscript:
When finishing this piece, I came across a lengthy article by N.S. Lyons titled The China Convergence. In it, he refers to 'techno-administrative governance', my version of the Overbearing Mother Society it could be said. That detailed and insightful, if worrying piece is available at https://theupheaval.substack.com/p/the-china-convergence.
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A little blue in the green, green grass of Ireland

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

As a sun worshiper of sorts, travelling to Ireland as winter sets in may seem a rather curious thing to do.

Ireland is nice for a visit but it's not the best place to be when looking for work.

While summer in my birthplace does not at all mean glorious sunshine, at least the hours of daylight surpass the hours of night. So for a better chance of enjoying some sun heat in Ireland, visiting between April and September is the optimum period. Just always have a rain jacket close to hand.

Tired land

That being so, cloudless skies and sultry air over Ireland at any time are almost as rare as finding precious-metal-laden cooking containers at the end of a prismatic optical phenomenon from the heavens (locating leprechauns may be an easier task).

That the country gets tourists at all — those with little-to-no blood ties to the land that is — is thanks to its topographical treats and friendly folk, so it goes anyway. It's not for the weather and it's certainly not because it's relatively cheap to visit — far from it these days.

My backend-of-the-year trip home has been chiefly for family reasons.

Had my father's parents been more considerate back in the 1940s and given birth to him sometime during that aforementioned April-September window, his 80th birthday would have fallen during what I consider to be a more agreeable season. Shame on my grandparents for such a lack of forethought. The difficult hand one is dealt in life, eh?

That aside, considering it had been five years since my last trip to Ireland, I felt a visit was called for. Also, it's not like I was leaving behind a host of well-paid projects in Colombia. 2023 hasn't exactly been a year of joyous jobs.

Thus, the chance to celebrate a joyous jamboree or two with family was welcome. It was something to aim for during complicated times.

I wasn't, however, filled with huge excitement making the journey back.

This had/has nothing to do with family. It's more a case that regardless of where I am I face the same dilemma: What do I do to make ends meet?

'The laneways of Lisacul and its surrounds that I've trodden many a time don't offer a sense of adventure.'

So while it's been great to see family and some friends again — and a niece and nephew for the first time — that what-do-I-do cloud is one that no west of Ireland gale will blow away.

And of all the places I could be whilst trying to source some fulfilling work, rural Ireland in winter, with its long dreary, uninspiring nights, is well down the list. Indeed, selfish as this may sound, being back in the house of my increasingly dependent parents only adds to the sense of gloom.

Yes, the travails of old age are inevitable for most of us yet it's particularly sad to see our loved ones decline. (This is balanced out somewhat by seeing nieces and nephews grow and develop into young adults.)

It speaks volumes that I was only back in Ireland a few hours before I felt that I'd never left. I guess that's normal.

Where the wind blows

Right now, though, in this time of particular uncertainty — nothing is ever certain, of course — I believe I'd be far more energised stepping into some unknown new adventure, finances permitting.

The laneways of Lisacul and its surrounds that I've trodden many a time don't offer that. Nor does the slobbering around on the unkempt family farm. These have been well tried but not quite trusted to deliver any sort of fulfilment, so to put it.

As things stand, the default is to take the return flight to Bogotá. For sure, I've had my struggles there. It's also not an unknown new adventure. Yet, from a purely financial perspective, I could manage my affairs a little better there. My Colombian pesos carry scant weight in high-income Ireland.

Colombia can be my, whisper it, wolf's lair, until, perhaps, La Cancillería finally tells me I'm a persona non grata (my current visa is valid for another year yet).

It could be argued that a return to Colombia is just a return to an increasingly less satisfying, mediocre comfort zone — to clarify, that is mediocre in terms of what I've been doing there, not the actual country.

There's truth to that, although I feel I can be a little freer, more independent in Colombia than in an expensive, public transport-light rural Ireland.

I do still have, though, a few more weeks to go in my birth country. And far from fixed to one place as I am, a winter storm could yet blow me in another direction.
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Calling out the illiberal "liberals"

@wwaycorrigan

Sharing here my latest letter in the Sunday Independent.

It's shocking to think that Declan Lynch gets paid for his column and I don't get remunerated for my musings!

Outside of the photo of the letter below, it can also be found by scrolling down on the following link, https://www.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-time-for-bishops-to-be-humble-and-ask-for-priests-from-afar/a1461060798.html.

For more on illiberal "liberals" and suchlike see https://wwcorrigan.blogspot.com/2022/09/the-liberal-illusion.html and https://wwcorrigan.blogspot.com/2023/02/living-with-unsettled-and-unsettling.html. 

Tackling the Lynch mob.

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Free love and sexual fluidity: Queer today, gay tomorrow

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A guy I was recently working with told me that he is in a polyamorous relationship with a woman.

His partner had been in a lesbian romance, but she left that to start this open arrangement with him. Obviously, both of them are comfortable with the idea. It simply couldn't work otherwise.

For some, any hole is a goal.

Pride (in the name of love)

One thing this guy didn't mention — and I wasn't really bothered to ask considering I'm not that prurient — is whether or not he, like his prime partner, enjoys same-sex intimacy. My inkling is that he doesn't.

While I've never been in such a relationship — not by consent/my being aware of it anyway — it did get me thinking about the whole concept and how I'd feel about playing a part in it.

I would be more accepting of the idea if my partner were doing her sleeping around with other women. I wouldn't be at all comfortable with the thought of her having sex with men.

I wager — and some academic studies on the subject back this up — that most heterosexual men share such sentiments.

My male mind had thus led me to hypothesise that most heterosexual women in an open relationship would prefer their man's additional partners to be men. However, anecdotal evidence and a number of research papers suggest this is not so.

A case of, it could be argued, women wanting their male lovers to be manly. Men having gay sex tends to go against this notion.

The, um, pride of many men, meanwhile, would take a significant hit if they were to discover their female lover was sleeping with rival males. Yet, a lesbian transgression may in some instances excite the dominant male.

Defenders of the unfaithful

All this does beg the question — particularly in a time when sexual fluidity for all genders appears to be flowing more freely than ever — are we, those of us from a Judeo-Christian tradition in any case, too tied to monogamy?

As many strive to live a life as close as possible to 'as nature intended', is having just one partner for the majority of our lives somewhat unnatural?

'How much this anchoring to monogamy is nature and how much is nurture is difficult to know.'

In a 2012 blog story that looked at the influence of Catholicism in both Colombia and Ireland, I explained how Vatican policy regarding sexual intercourse has had a longer history of being ignored in Colombia than in my birth country.

Back then, I surmised that the seemingly more liberal Colombian approach as regards sex might indeed be more natural but not the best when it comes to raising a family. That is, not the best when just one parent is, quite literally, left holding the baby.

Even though Ireland is far less conservative in this area than it was when I came into the world in the mid-1980s, monogamy is still generally seen as virtuous, in word at least.

Of course, infidelity is often a reason for the breakup of a relationship or marriage. So if polygamy were viewed less grievously, if it were more accepted, infidelity would lose much weight as grounds for separation.

For many of us, however, such a change of mindset wouldn't come simply. How much this anchoring to monogamy is nature and how much is nurture is difficult to know. It is, of course, the current standard for most of humanity, with an estimated two per cent of the global population in polygamous households.

That being so, those in what is meant to be a monogamous relationship who end up two-timing often do so impulsively. They don't set out to be unfaithful.

Thus, the injured partner can be more accepting of and forgive a transgression if the desire to do so exists.

For as much as monogamy is seen as desirable, most realise that it has to be worked at all the same. At times it requires willpower. And sometimes, some fail.

Roman rule: Anything goes

There is much less wriggle room and understanding when it comes to sexuality.

As already referenced, there is usually little to no leniency shown by a female partner to a once-perceived heterosexual man who is found to have been unfaithful homosexually.

'In Ancient Rome, it seems that bisexuality was standard, at least for those with citizen status. An any-hole-is-a-goal approach.'

This is chiefly because most people today still view sexuality as fixed, innate, not fluid. One can't be queer today, bi tomorrow and heterosexual the day after.

Yet, a glance at history suggests it hasn't always been thus.

In Ancient Rome, for example, it appears sexual fluidity was the norm, as the British historian Tom Holland pointed out in a recent interview:

'There’s a description in Suetonius’s imperial biography of Claudius: "He only ever slept with women." And this is seen as an interesting foible in the way that you might say of someone, he only ever slept with blondes. I mean, it’s kind of interesting, but it doesn’t define him sexually. Similarly, he says of Galba, an upright embodiment of ancient republican values: "He only ever slept with males." And again, this is seen as an eccentricity, but it doesn’t absolutely define him.'

'What does define a Roman in the opinion of Roman moralists is basically whether you are — and I apologise for the language I’m now going to use — using your penis as a kind of sword, to dominate, penetrate and subdue. And the people who were there to receive your terrifying, thrusting, Roman penis were, of course, women and slaves: anyone who is not a citizen, essentially. So the binary is between Roman citizens, who are all by definition men, and everybody else.'

So going by this, in Ancient Rome, it seems that bisexuality was standard, at least for those with citizen status. An any-hole-is-a-goal approach.

OK, as Holland's insight implies, some Romans were heterosexual and some homosexual, but these are seen as outliers.

Like other traits, one's sexuality is most likely on a spectrum, as the Kinsey scale, for one, measures. (For more on that and other scales see https://www.webmd.com/sex/what-is-sexuality-spectrum.)

What's more, there is a belief among some scholars that one's position on the spectrum can change over time. That may be so. Or it might be that some people are more of the anything-goes variety when it comes to sexual pleasure.

Right now, I can say I'm in a healthy asexual relationship. And I'm certainly not in the free-love brigade. It would take somebody special to, um, knock me off these pillars.
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'An alcoholic?! Me?! No way!'

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

A barrio acquaintance, one who is not only very fond of marijuana and the hip psychedelic tusi but has also been a petty peddler of same, called me an alcoholic the other day.

A case of, an outside observer might say, one addict knowing another.

One man's alcoholic is another's merely mild drinker, right?

However, seeing how this acquaintance, in her early 20s, has barely worked a day in her life — outside of her minor drug dealing — and usually appears more out of it than with it, I initially shrugged off her labelling me an alcoholic.

Yet, as an Irishman who likes the occasional beer that often leads to a questioning of my relationship with alcohol, her remark did end up bugging me a little.

'Am I an alcoholic?'

Habit addict

To answer that, we must define what an alcoholic is.

One dictionary definition describes an alcoholic as 'a person addicted to intoxicating drinks.' Another definition is 'somebody who drinks alcohol to excess habitually.'

Those definitions, however, in using words such as 'addicted', 'excess' and 'habitually', are open to much interpretation.

Some commentators and scholars on the subject dismiss the concept of addiction outright. They see it as a mere cover for one's failure to take responsibility.

According to this school of thought, it's not an innate, incurable addiction that's at play but rather a very fixable fixation. It's a harmful habit that can be replaced with a more beneficial — or at least less-bad — one. What's lacking is willpower, as well as any real desire to change in many instances.

'That four-day booze-free stint coincided with an annoying head cold. Was my body telling me something? A case of a beer a day keeps colds at bay?'

In other words, people know they're doing something that's not good for their overall well-being but they do it anyway. (Of course, few of us live vice-free — even exercise can become a problem if one overdoes it regularly. Some vices, though, are more damaging than others.)

Mild imbiber

Returning to our definitions of alcoholic, it's easier, at least officially, to find consensus for what excess and habitually mean.

In Ireland, a standard drink is defined as one which contains 10 grams of pure alcohol. The advice is that a man should drink no more than 17 such servings a week, a woman no more than 11.

If one drinks alcohol more days in a week than not, few would argue that this is habitual.

On that last one, despite publishing a few months ago a hopeful post, Abandoning the beer standard, I've been quite the habitual drinker of late.

The longest run I've had without a beer in 2023 has been four days, and that was on one occasion only. Frustratingly, that four-day booze-free stint coincided with an annoying head cold. Was my body telling me something? A case of a beer a day keeps colds at bay?

Plenty of downtime this year and not wanting to be in my shared accommodation for too long at any one time are two big reasons for this regular revelling, tame as it normally is.

What's more, as a pastime, sipping on a Barrio Santandercito tienda beer is a fairly economical activity compared to some other pursuits one could get up to in Bogotá.

As alluded to, in terms of excess, my consumption levels each time I drink are nothing like they were in the past.

Where previously when I would go at it, as we Irish say, I'd have at least four litres of Poker beer or the equivalent, these days I'm usually looking for the exit door after two or at most three. (Do note, Poker's alcohol by volume [ABV] is four per cent.)

So my binge-drinking days do appear to be largely behind me. Compared to other regular drinkers, I think it's fair to put me in the mild category. I'm certainly no Brendan Behan — no sniggering — who described himself as 'a drinker with a writing problem.' Some might say writing is my main problem and I should give that up!

Constant craving

Whatever the case, there is another factor to be considered: cravings.

This ties in with addiction, whether one believes addiction to be a genuine disease or not.

I surmise that people who I consider to be alcoholics crave alcohol, it's constantly in their thoughts. When they get up in the morning, if a beer or whatever was put in front of them, they'd have no issue downing it. What usually prevents such types from doing so is a job commitment or suchlike.

I, on the other hand, rarely if ever desire an alcoholic drink first thing. For me, imbibing has a time and a place — the time is normally late in the evening, the place is a tienda/public house, certainly not my own dwelling.

And as I've already pointed out, I'm more than content to retire to my bed after a couple of litres. Where perhaps in my earlier drinking days I suffered from fomo, fear of missing out, these days I'm more in the jomo, joy of missing out, camp.

So, yes, I do like beer and I may regularly drink more units of alcohol per week than most health experts recommend.

Nonetheless, life in my late 30s doesn't revolve around the next alcohol-fuelled session like it did to some extent in my 20s and early 30s.

Of course, how I feel and what I believe is one thing. How others view me is another. Perception is reality in this regard. Yet, it's only the perceptions and opinions of certain people in my life that I should really value. Others are best ignored.
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Other media can have Tubridy, but they can't have RTÉ

@wwaycorrigan

A bit of a parochial post this — Ireland is parochial. It's a link to my latest letter in the Irish Examiner about a payment scandal at the national broadcaster, RTÉ, largely, but not exclusively, revolving around one of its now former top presenters, Ryan Tubridy.

The letter was originally published online on 19 August 2023 at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41208160.html.

RTÉ, I am open to offers to work as a radio presenter. And I'll do it for far less than 200,000 euros!

Corrigan calls it.

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Tight times with no respite in sight

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio version of this blog story, click here.]

To a man, woman and non-binary individual, practically all Colombians I talk to echo my sentiments that it's been a difficult year income-wise.

Thankfully, there are always a few deals to be found in Bogotá's ubiquitous local fruit and veg shops.

Of course, many people say that their financial situation is tight even if the reality is different. It's usually best not to give the impression that one has a cash cushion to fall back on, especially in Colombia.

Where the stats lie

Zooming out to the national level for a moment and looking at the chief indicators, Colombia's economy, in layperson's terms, can be described as 'doing OK but could do better.' (See https://issuu.com/oecd.publishing/docs/colombia-oecd-economic-outlook-june-2023?fr=sY2U1ZTUwNTY2MTA.)

The official unemployment rate, at just over 10 per cent, is comparable to the average figure in the years immediately before the pandemic. Do note, high informal labour levels have to be factored in when discussing the numbers that are truly unemployed in Colombia.

Whatever the case, such headline figures only give a very rough idea of how things are for the individual. A country's overall economic performance, be it good, bad or mediocre, doesn't mean the entire population is in the same situation.

For sure, high interest and/or inflation rates have a real-life impact. They can alter consumer behaviour in both negative and positive ways.

However, it can be argued that these are less crucial factors in low- to middle-income nations such as Colombia. What I mean by this is that times are almost always tight for the typical working-class barrio resident, particularly in the cities, with rainy-day funds almost non-existent.

Recession proof?

As a single, childless foreigner with a fairly minimalist lifestyle, I am perhaps not the best sample case to study for an idea of how Colombia's current economic performance is affecting the average working-class person.

For one, the high inflation rates that Colombia has been experiencing haven't had a noticeable impact on my cost of living.

'In Bogotá, in my circles in any case, it appears to be a tough time to be an independent worker. Is it ever any other way?'

In the last 18 months, my rent has increased by less than two per cent. What's more, I am actually paying less in rent today than I was in 2020 and 2021. I did, though, change accommodation quite a bit. Also, if I felt a little more financially secure I'd be seeking my own place — I just can't justify the additional cost of such a luxury right now.

As for expenditure on the staples, while some things have got notably more expensive, my weekly spend hasn't shot up in line with inflation. There's always a deal or three to be got at the local fruit and veg shop. One just needs to be flexible with one's diet. 

Scare necessities

It's my earning power, as mentioned in the opening lines, that has waned considerably of late. In this, I may make common cause with my barrio buddies who work independently, mostly in the construction sector. Patience, paciencia, has been our word of the year.

In Bogotá, in my circles in any case, it appears to be a tough time to be an independent worker. Is it ever any other way? Unlike most of my barrio acquaintances, however, one obstacle for me is that I'm a bit too picky about what I want to work at.

My reluctance, nay refusal, to return to English teaching is a major reason why the number of pesos refilling my pocket has plummeted. I've spent more than I've earned in each month of 2023 thus far. This looks unlikely to change in the foreseeable, particularly with a trip to my birthplace in the offing.

Thankfully, I have some savings that are generating a little bit of interest, partially offsetting my monthly losses. However, such financial management, to state the obvious, is unsustainable unless I decide to live rent-free on the street or suchlike.

That yet-to-be-booked journey back to Ireland is an opportunity to reset; it should allow for a thorough reappraisal of my situation.

For various reasons, as I recently explained, such a re-evaluation has been difficult to undertake in my current Bogotá beat. It hasn't been infusing me with energy and enthusiasm — although the city itself can't take all the flak for that.

On the other hand, a return to Ireland scares me somewhat. In my, um, rare angry moments, watching from afar, I see an overpriced, illiberal-liberal, smug state (I thought the English were meant to be the smug ones?). Ireland Inc. is unlikely to be perturbed by such proclamations all the same.

Be that as it may, regardless of where I am in the world I face the same rather disconcerting question: What do I do to not only make ends meet but feel somewhat fulfilled as well? (Feel free to leave your answers to that one in the comments section!)

Leaving behind what has been life on Mediocre Lane in Colombia might just lead me to Awful Alley. Then again, it could be the way to that lesser-spotted Easy Street. Time to set forth and find out while I still can.
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Exacting revenge

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio version of this blog story, click here.]

In a memorable episode — few were forgettable, in fairness — of the hit 1990s TV sitcom, Father Ted, the no-nonsense, hot-tempered Bishop Brennan gets a kick up the posterior from the comedy classic's title character.

Revenge: It's often best put on the long finger.

Dazed and enraged

Ted was forced into this almost-suicidal shoe of strength after being exposed as a cheat while managing a football team against his arch-rival priest, Dick Byrne. Kicking Bishop Brennan up the arse was the forfeit.

When a near-perfect scenario arises where the deed can be carried out, Ted duly delivers the hit.

Considering the fear he instils in his inferiors, Bishop Brennan can't believe what's happened.

The next few scenes show His Grace in a stupor as he makes his way to Rome for an audience with the Pope. It's only at the Vatican, facing Pope John Paul II, that Bishop Brennan snaps out of this stupor and realises that he did indeed get kicked up the arse.

Cue a rush back to Ireland to confront Father Ted.

A slapstick comedy this show may have been, yet I often find myself referring to it for solace, of sorts. That and the fact that many of its silly scenes accurately reflect real life.

While I haven't been in a stupor to the extent Bishop Brennan was, I have been regularly distracted by thoughts of an episode that has, or at least had, left me disillusioned. (See both The fiendish frenemy and Bogged down in Bogotá for more on that.)

'What had made the rage so acute was the belief that outside of, unwisely, taking matters more firmly into my own hands, I felt rather powerless.'

That the borrower in my previously documented money-lending saga has started to re-engage in the repayment process is helping to lessen the disillusionment.

I did also, à la Bishop Brennan, have my snap-out-of-it moment, the result of which was a verbal attack — or two — on my loanee friend/frenemy. It appears to have cleared the heavy air that had, understandably enough, existed between us, although at the time it seemed like it had finally put an end to any pretence of friendship.

Power struggle

Nonetheless, this whole loan affair has left a sour taste. It's likely to linger for quite a while. What's more, as alluded to, there is still money to be repaid.

Yet, those feelings of rage with an accompanying desire to exact revenge of some sort have dissipated.

What had made such feelings so acute was the belief that outside of, unwisely, taking matters more firmly into my own hands, I felt rather powerless. An omnipotent Bishop Brennan dealing with an unruly understudy I was not.

Sure, the borrower and I had signed a legally binding document but going the legal route to get this money repaid would most likely result in more pain rather than any pay, particularly in Colombia.

The only viable approach I've had throughout, without potentially creating more problems, has been to play the waiting game.

A couple of verbal shots fired in frustration aside, this is largely how I've played it. I have been fairly patient and understanding, if I do say so myself.

However it finally plays out, enough has happened thus far to ensure this money-lending episode will live long in the memory. It's been a kick in the posterior one has to learn from.
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Making the bell toll for us while we still can

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio version of this blog story click here.]

'You can't unring a bell.'

Of the many quips former Ireland men's rugby coach, Eddie O'Sullivan, has uttered, that one regularly reverberates in my mind.

What's rung is rung!

A different ball game

In more common parlance it's expressed as, 'What's done, is done'. It can't be undone. If it's something that needs fixing, requires a remedy, this may be possible afterwards but we can't go back in time and re-do the original action. The best we can do is try to learn from it and not make the same mistakes again.

Certain events, however, allow one shot only. Yes, similar situations may arise in the future where we can adopt a wiser approach based on experience but no two scenarios play out exactly the same.

Returning briefly to O'Sullivan and the Irish rugby team that he once coached, followers of the game are well aware of Ireland's failure to make it to a World Cup semi-final after nine attempts.

In rugby's professional era, from 1995 onwards, Team Ireland has by now pretty much achieved everything that can be achieved in the sport, except those significant shortcomings at World Cups. 2023 presents another opportunity to address this.

Of course, the personnel involved in each World Cup selection changes, as does the location and the makeup of the other competitors. A new bell is being rung each time, so to put it.

And so it is with every new challenge. None is exactly like another because there are so many variables at play.

'That I have these uncomfortable dreams could be due to my largely stress-free, relaxed-paced life on Bogotá's Mediocre Lane.'

Over the last four years, I've had, if I recall correctly, eight online job interviews. Three of those were for positions that I'm fairly certain I would have said yes to had I been the preferred candidate. Obviously enough, I wasn't.

Naturally, I've done mental post-mortems on each of them. One usually has a sense of where it goes wrong in such things, so this gets played over and over in the mind ahead of the next interview.

As somebody who prefers in-person meetings over online ones, being forced into the latter is a negative before a virtual ball is kicked. My job interview record suggests I have to be seen to be truly believed — or hired, at least!

'It's not us, it's you'

My most recent interview gives a nice illustration of this. I had a technical problem that simply couldn't happen in person: my laptop's camera wouldn't work when it had worked fine just moments before I connected to the "video" call.

As it transpired, I have it on good authority that this glitch had no bearing on the outcome. After all, the interview was for a job where it was much more about my voice, my current affairs/news sense and my ability to write news bulletins. How I looked was not of major importance.

That aside, I did have to write up and record a news bulletin against the clock. When my low-spec laptop has to multitask online, it often throws a tantrum. Its temperament on this occasion made an already stressful task somewhat more taxing than it needed to be.

This might sound like a not-very-skilled workman pointing his finger at the tools at his disposal, but it's not. I'm just stating the facts, these aren't excuses.

In any case, that I wasn't offered the job may have as much to do with my distance from where the gig is based than my interview performance. I say this because I was told that if I happen to be in the city where the work is in the coming months, I should contact the interviewer for potential freelance opportunities.

As rejections go, this was one of the gentler ones I've received. Or could it be that the company in question is just being overly and unnecessarily nice?

Don't dream it's over

Whatever the real reasons are, I am left with the feeling that I didn't give the best account of myself on the day. My performance could have been a few percentage points higher. The bell that I rang on this occasion just didn't sound quite right for its target.

More specifically, the news task did remind me why I prefer interviewing and presenting programmes, i.e. a format that allows for some unscripted dissection of current affairs, to composing bulletins. Alas, such paid gigs are thin on the ground.

I still have the occasional nightmare of rushing from a radio newsroom to the studio for a live bulletin with just seconds remaining to broadcast time. Or, worse again, actually being in the studio with no news to read at all.

I'm fairly sure that second scenario never happened in reality. Well, not to the extent visualised in my nightmares. I did, though, have to make up the weather forecast once or twice. In Ireland, one is rarely wrong in prognosticating wind and rain.

That I have these uncomfortable dreams could be due to my largely stress-free, relaxed-paced life on Bogotá's Mediocre Lane.

Time, perhaps, for some more daring bell ringing while I'm still in a position to do so. Better to have rung and lost than never have rung at all, right? And there's no avoiding the eternal empty silence that awaits us all.
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