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TNT

Trinity News Two January 24th 2006

Trinity students’ drinking How much is too much?

Three’s company Does anyone really enjoy threesomes?

Page 3

Boy from Pluto Exclusive interview with Cillian Murphy Pages 6-7

Road to Nowhere What now for the Liberal Democrats?

Page 9

Cheap and cheerful The best thrift/vintage shops in Dublin Page 11

Cover Story

TNT

How Much is Really We’re constantly being told that we’re drinking too much, but how true is it? Christine Bohan spent a night in the Pav and the Buttery (purely for research purposes) to find out

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t’s 8.30pm on a Friday night at the Pav, and the place is so packed that it’s physically impossible to get in the door. There are a hundred or so people standing around outside it, despite the cold weather, and everyone seems to be having a good time. Some of the boys from the Phil are talking animatedly at a table with so many beer cans on it that it’s almost impossible to make out the table underneath. Two boys are sitting on the steps loudly rating every girl who walks by out of 10 (“Ah come on, 8 is a bit generous, her arse is massive”). A couple of skeletal girls are knocking back their Malibu and Cokes whilst talking loudly about how there’s not enough hot guys on their course.

About half the people are dressed casually, having hung around college since their lectures finished this afternoon, whilst the rest are a bit more dressed up to go on somewhere later, probably the Palace.

It’s a similar story in the Buttery, half an hour later, except with less people. About half of the tables and

chairs have already been packed up for the evening. The CD player doesn’t kick in until about ten past 9, so until then it’s possible to overhear a lot of the conversations going on. It’s mainly small groups of about 2-3, crouched over the black tables with a few cans of Tuborg each.

“You are SUCH a liar!

You’re so hammered already! Oh my God, you are the least sober of ALL of us!” Cue a lot of drunken laughing from the girls This isn’t the picture of student drinking that we see splashed all over the media constantly, that we’re warned about by health professionals, that concerned parents ask us about. There’s no fights, no puking, no girls crying after a few too many drinks. No-one is falling over themselves or taking a discreet slash in the bushes by the Pav. In fact it all looks remarkably civilised. There

Alcohol and essay writing is always a bad combination

does seem to be a lot of cans on each table in both the Buttery and the Pav, but then there’s a lot of people sitting at each table.

But this doesn’t tally with what we know about our attitudes to drinking. The College Lifestyle and Attitudinal National (CLAN) survey found that 61% of male students and 41% of female students binge drink at least once a week. Even taking that the definition of binge drinking (at least four pints of beer or four measures of spirits or equivalent, in one session) seems low enough to incriminate an awful lot of us, that’s still a high number. Dr. David Thomas, the head of the College Health Service is concerned at the amount that students are drinking: “The epidemic we’re seeing is not necessarily an increase in the number of students experimenting with binge drinking but instead an increase in the number of drinks being consumed per session”.

The College Service has seen a marked increase in the number of stu-

dents making appointments for alcoholrelated reasons. “Over the past 5-10 years there’s been an increase in the number of injuries related to alcohol, cases of unprotected sex and both self and assisted referrals for problem drinking” explains Dr. Thomas. “One major concern would be that approximately 15% of significant binge drinkers would go on to have serious long-term alcohol problems” Anecdotal evidence from the Buttery and the Pav shows just how unhealthy our attitude to alcohol is.

A table of four boys and two girls in the Pav are happy to talk about the amount they’re drinking tonight.

One of the boys had snuck in cans of Tuborg from Centra: “It was better value really. It’s two for €3 here [in the Pav] but you get 6 for €7 in Centra so it works out better. Guess it means you have to drink more but I probably would have done that anyway”. Two of them are celebrating doing an exam today. “I did shit, none of the stuff I studied came up so I just want to forget about it” says one, on his fifth pint of the evening.

A lot of the third year History class are in the Pav and they’re also celebrating doing an exam today. I’m talking to one of them when her friend comes over to see what I’m writing down. The friend is clearly drunk. She holds on to the railings beside us but still sways slightly as she talks. She can’t focus. I tell her the article is about student drinking patterns, and she gives me her two cents: “Yeah... [long pause]... yeah it’s such a problem. All these kids hammered, it’s like... it’s a problem, all the alcohol they’re drinking isn’t good...”.

A bunch of girls who look like models are going on to the Palace after the Pav. “Yeah we’re not drinking that much tonight, going to stay sober and -” “You are SUCH a liar! You’re so hammered already! Oh my God, you are the least sober of ALL of us!”. Cue a lot of laughing from the girls.

It’s all a lot calmer in the Buttery. There’s a couple of boys discussing politics in the corner. From casual eavesdropping it’s hard to tell whether they’re hammered or if they’re usually this hard to understand, as their conversation jumps from topic to topic.

A girl at one of the tables tells

TNT

Cover Story / Sex Column

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Too Much? The Sex Column

Sorcha Lyons questions whether or not three’s a crowd “In my experience, Irish men, in a committed relationship, do not want a threesome.”

I made this statement one evening and it has got me into a lot of trouble with a lot of Irish men I know.

They have all denied it, slagged it and have been unable to let it go… “AAHH, look at the size of that spider, that’s almost as terrifying as my other fear… a threesome.” Cue raucous laughter.

However, my comment did not come out of nowhere and the more they berate it, the more defiantly I feel I must defend it.

It is common knowledge that the “ménage a trois” is the fantasy of choice amongst most young men in this world. Two beautiful soft delectable females pouring all their attention over one lucky guy, kissing and sucking, licking and teasing and making one man the centre of their world for at least an hour or two.

Despite the bravado and boastings, Irish men are not up for some threesome action

Cigarettes and alcohol me about how strict the barmen in the Buttery are about serving people who are clearly drunk: “One time, they refused to serve this girl that I know cos she was hammered, so she asked me to buy a couple of drinks for her. I did, but the barman figured it out somehow and followed me back to her table and told me I couldn’t give her the drinks. It was pretty unfair but I guess he was just doing his job”.

One boy I talk to is driving tonight but is annoyed at the price of soft drinks in the Buttery: “It’s crap, a pint of soft drinks is almost the same price as a pint of beer. It’s not much of an incentive not to drink for f***’s sake. It’s the same everywhere, you think they’d bring the prices down a bit”.

The Buttery isn’t as crazy as the Pav was. Most people are just here for a quiet drink on a Friday evening, rather than planning to go out somwhere afterwards. There’s none of the flirting, the shouting, the messing around that there was in the Pav. “The Pav is more for pissheads on the pull,

the Buttery is for a drink with your mates”, one boy in the Buttery tells me.

Despite all the drinking that went on tonight, it doesn’t hold true for all students. A lot drink sensibly. A lot don’t even drink at all. Current SU President John Mannion is one of them, as is Ents Officer Niall Hughes (despite his rather misleading election campaign slogan ‘Hughes for Booze’). The College Alcohol Policy has seen a big change in the promotion and giving out of free alcohol by societies.

The biggest problem in changing our attitude to drink is that whilst everyone agrees that there’s a problem in our attitude to alcohol, no-one thinks that they personally have a problem with the way that they drink. That’s why when it’s written about in the media it sounds so puritanical, so out of touch, so unfun. Whilst getting drunk isn’t the worst thing in the world, a new approach is needed to convince us of the dangers and problems involved with binge drinking judging by tonight, the message simply isn’t getting through.

Photographs (including cover photo) by Richeal Carroll and Cian Kennedy

I wonder where this fantasy comes from; the aspiration to be served and worshipped or simply the love of the female form? When quizzed, some male friends of mine confessed that they’re into the three-way for lots of different reasons. One talked about the sexual power that he would have when two women are completely concentrated on him. Another said the opposite, how the hottest thing for him would be the fact that he would be over-powered by two predators- two hot females who want their wicked way with him and won’t stop until they are sweating, breathless and completely satisfied. There are other aspects that really turn people on- the voyeuristic idea of being with two other people as they have sex and totally let themselves go.

As a young Irish woman, growing up in the ever increasingly cosmopolitan world of Dublin city, my friends and I are developing and exploring our sexualities. We’ve collectively discovered that although it is undoubtedly a turn-on for most Irish men to watch some lucky man pump into two buxom American bombshells on the television, it seems that Irish men are not partial to a slice of the real girlie sandwich. As soon as their girlfriend actually suggests

cranking the sex up a notch and inviting the hot girl from across the bar in for a bit of fun, the men hesitate. Oftentimes, the girlfriend will just seductively suggest it to turn her beau on… but the more seriously it is suggested, the more uncomfortable he appears. Despite the bravado and the macho boastings about their cock, when it comes to the crunch, Irish men are not up for some three in the bed action. Why is this I wonder?

As with most phenomena, there are a number of reasons: fear of ineptitude, insecurity, and emotional reasons.

Men love the threesome fantasy. The key word is ‘fantasy’; if you took this and made it a reality, it is likely that the mystery, the danger and the naughtiness would be removed- it never could be as good as each man’s specific fantasy.

Especially when faced with the reality of the threesome- awkward slipping around, jealousy and the aftermath. They have to deal with their own emotions and those of their partners- they have to take a good long look at their relationship and wonder if this sex act is a sign of unity or a sign of weakness. Is it a positive sign that they can embrace the intrusion of another partner or is the fact that they felt the need for a third a negative sign. The latter idea comes laden with feelings of sexual and emotional inadequacy and can further exacerbate a hostile relationship. So women, if you want to give your man exactly what he wants in order to save or improve your relationship, a threesome is definitely not the way to go.

The threesome is the food of young, single people on holidays- it conjures up ideas of three people who don’t know each other very well having spontaneous fun and enjoying themselvesthey only have to think of themselves and their own pleasure. They are not constrained within a relationship. They are also not influenced by love and jealousy.

In all, threesomes are a good laugh provided they occur outside relationships and are safe and wet and hot.

Within the relationship, it’s a different story. All you people, who read this and disagree*, just wait until you are in love and have met that special someone… you too will never want to share. *That goes for you, in the rugby shirt, scratching your balls.

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Feature

TNT

How to Get Ahead in Whether it’s getting wet with the Boat Club or tempting the boys from Sci-Fi out of their den, Chloe Sanderson presents the definitive guide to scoring in college

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or years historians have argued over how it came into being, politicians muse over how it should be governed, it can be in, out, good, bad, and it appears that Oscar Wilde wrote all his plays about it; but as the tenth shot of slightly suspicious Lidl-acquired liquor slipped down my throat, I couldn’t help but wonder was it really going to get me lucky?

Societies are, it seems, the lynchpin of Trinity Life. Of course you can go through your four years avoiding them avidly, and find solace in matching Adam Chemistry to Eve biochemistry, eventually settling down with that special someone who caught your eye across a crowded lecture hall (or sussed how drunk you were and used the advantage as you slid down the walls at Slapper Face Jacks). But if you hope to ever tonsil tango with someone outside your course, societies are where it’s at. The big question is however, which society holds the richest pickings for a not-too-self-respecting Trinity singleton?

This question led me all the way to finding myself washing away my last semblance of dignity, and fighting with a bunch of complete strangers for the last dregs of beverages that look like they had been constructed by an ADHD chemistry student on acid. I had followed the yellow brick cobbles

all the way round the Fresher’s Fair and here I was wallowing in alcoholic abandon with a large number of slightly bronzed, long haired, bearded gentlemen with a fetish for neoprene rubber, ready to ride the wave of beautiful men that I’m happy to say make up a large proportion of the Trinity Surf Club.

Sci-Fi will probably be glad to see you even if you look like the bride of Chewbacca...

On waking with an unusually horrific sense of how much I drank last night, the reality hit, I, Chloe Patricia Abigail, Ingle Sanderson (an absurdity of a name), had entered a society. And as I scrabbled over a carpet of newly printed cards, half chewed lollypops, and free condoms, only to discover that my wallet had been robbed of all its cosy warmth of shrapnel, it occurred to me that I may have entered just a few more than one. I’d like to pretend that as my alcoholic haze slowly lifted I remembered running joyfully into the outstretched arms of each of those little stalls because deep down I wanted to expand my horizon to a plethora of new enriching life skills.

Perhaps instead I could convince you, dear reader,

that I undertook the following social experiment, surrendered my money, joined so many of these guilds purely for your information and delectation, an insider’s look for the outside world so to speak.

The answer all boils down to this: Trinity is life, life is a scary place, plaice is a type of fish, and in truth this writer had a little fishing to do herself. What I needed to know was which society produced the best catch? With any luck by the end of this article we may have a definitive answer.

The important thing you may find in the rocky road of society dating is that each society has its points of beauty, be it male or female, but attached to each one comes the necessity of complying with a few society rules. For example should you be afraid of getting wet it’s probably best to avoid the Boat Club -luckily for me the thought of getting wet under the careful instruction of eight men had a certain appeal. The Boat Club provides Trinity with the pleasure of boys and girls with toned bodies, great stamina, and every term or so, the Rowing Massacre, a night that sacrifices their fresh healthy livers, and blurs their vision just enough to allow us lesser post Christmas mortals a chance of taking home one of those stripy little blazers.

Of course if an action man, or woman, sounds like a little too

Rich pickings in the Boat Club, Sci-Fi (picture not necessarily an accurate portrayal), Players and Music Soc

much hard work there’s always one of the more sedentary societies to take your dating fancy. I decided to try out the second largest society around: The Phil. If you can ignore the vaguely venereal disease sounding title, this option does have its advantages. They come with their own rather large semi-detached property, a penchant for providing copious free drinkage, and the likelihood of meeting at least one z-list celebrity. Just be warned that should you choose this option, past experience shows that they may not be quite as big as their boots suggest, and 99% of the action you’ll be getting will be postering.

Ever the fearless reporter my research has even taken me into alien territory. The Sci-Fi society, resting at the top of House Six, proved to have a pleasing male to female ratio. That means they’ll probably be glad to see you even if you look a little like the bride of Chewbacca. Plus, being fans of the obligatory Pav Friday when bored of The Endevour (Oh dear Lord a sci-fi joke, I’ve been invaded!), you can always move on from one of the Sci-Fi guys to the Palace’s hoards of little Green Men. Then there’s the cluster of societies which are really just an extension of some dusty faculty or other. The Eurostuds have some moderately lively parties which aren’t too difficult to crash, and

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Feature / Fresher Column

Societies although it has been said that French is the language of love, take time to honour the Germans, after all they ‘liebe dick’, brochvurst, David Hasslehoff, and they’re very VERY efficient.

If we’ll admit to it we’ve all at some point or other in our sordid little lives imagined that that little gyrating voice box of lyrical love coming at you through the romantic pixels of MTV are in fact not merely singing for their 50Cent supper, but singing a love song written exclusively for you. Enter the Music Society, a litany of lyrical lovelies that could pluck at your heart strings or at the very least offer a quick fiddle.

On the artist theme, Players offer the chance at a truly exclusive relationship; pop up to the studio, they’ll offer you a cup of tea, take your soul, and spit you out at the end of four years thinking you’re happier being someone else. Plus for my male readership there’s the added danger that you might start to think tights and makeup are acceptable in the name of art, though I suppose it could be worse - after all the Caledonian Soc boys like wearing skirts, and the Visual Art Soc spend a whole heap of time perving on people who wear nothing at all.

Lastly, although not officially a society the safest bet for

something pretty to look at is surely the Trinity Fashion Show.

Probably best avoided if you find height intimidating, this collection of coathangers won’t cost you too much in dinner dates and should you ever find yourself accosted by the Gardaí after a few too many Bavarias then these beauties will perform the art of straight line walking long enough for you to scarper quicker than they can shout Pete Doherty.

Sadly this article can’t offer you a comprehensive survey of all the societies CSC has to offer, after all no one wants to be a society whore. However should the bevy of beauties I’ve listed not take your fancy there’s a full list at: www.csc.tcd.ie from which to take your pick. Plus, as we all like to get a little out and breath and sweaty from time to time the 50 or so sports clubs DUCAC has to offer means you can put away the Barry White and get straight to the good stuff. Now due to the fact that I spent more of my childhood looking like a ball than playing with one – it’s a vicious circle that ends with cake – I couldn’t tell you much about their individual merits.

What I do know is whether it’s the dregs of or high society you’re after, in the question of boy meets girl, in the end only you can decide which society rules.

Surf Club: “Bronzed, long-haired gentlment with a fetish for rubber...”

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The Fresher Column Jason Robinson has a novel way to impress the person you fancy in college So after the much needed break, it's back to college again. Just when college work was fading into the back of most students minds, it all comes flooding back again. Exams. Essays. Tutorial Work.

And blah. And blah. And blah.

But hey, it ain't all bad, and I don't think we can really complain. First up,however, I must apologise. For everybody out there who does read this column, I really did want to have some cringeworthy stories about my Christmas to share with you all. Grandparents buying me big woolly cardigans; GranAunts harassing me and stuff of that nature. But unfortunately, everything went down well in the Robinson household this Christmas. No interfamily murders this year. No maiming of the family's black sheep. No sacrificial rituals. Andto make things worse, I had a good New Year aswell. Instead of lounging around putting off essays and the like, I decided to join my half-Kiwi friend on a short trip to the far-off land of New Zealand. Most of you, I'm sure, will remember the New Year passing through in a blur of drunkeness. I however, was in transit to New Zealand.

Trust an Irish person to be somewhat sad at missing out on New Years drunken revelry while travelling half-way across the world...

Last issue I made a few comments about BESS girls, and it seems that some have taken offence. And rightly so...

So, two and a half weeks of friendly New Zealanders, racial stereotypes ("Oh you're Irish? To be sure, to be sure. Be-gosh and be-gara"), a never ending amount of McDonald's, empty Irish bars and most importantly, Japanese camera-wielding tourists. In all seriousness, how do they do it-they're EVERYWHERE!?Ahem. I love the Japanese.

But seriously, if any of you are thinking of heading off far from Ireland this summer, New Zealand really has lots to offer. Personally, being a bit of a pansy, I only partook in a bit of wakeboarding, kayaking, trekking and so on, but for the more adventurous, you can do stuff like Zorbing(being rolled around in a giant sphere!), bungy jumping, sky diving and all that jazz. So hey, take a trip there if you can. Carpe Diem and

other words of wisdom.

So waffling about my trip HAS been beneficial...I think...Moving on...

Last issue, I made a few wee comments about BESS girls. It seems however, that all BESS girls have taken offence by these- rightly so, you thick gits. Nah ONLY JOKING. I REALLY like Bess girls. No seriously, I really do...

So, this issue I hoped to have a wee report about a visit to Starbucks you know that strangely appealing looking building about a minute away from Trinity? Appealing BUT deadly, so I hear. But, due to being some thousands of miles away, it was not feasible. I also hoped to have my concept of "Ecumenical Deathmatch" brought out into the open, which I suppose I can do.

Basically, like many Freshers, I've heard rumours of a strange Trinity College rule whereby a Protestant can challenge a Catholic in a duel in Front Square. Now, details are sketchy, but over the next month, I will try find out more. Personally, I think the possibilities are endless. American commentators going crazy. Cheerleaders. Maces.

Tridents. Chainsaws? RTE could really make a pretty penny out of it. Think about it- There's a guy/girl you don't like- you don't quite know why.

Suddenly, you find out they are a different religion to you- BAM! Challenge them in the greatest battle of all- "ECUMENICAL DEATHMATCH." Bad taste?

Maybe. Good idea? Most definitely. The campaign for more fatally violent sports in college, and indeed our society, starts now...

Anyway, to round off another poor attempt at humouring Trinity students, just have to say I've sold out and become a true Trinner student. It was the penultimate day of the Library opening times before Christmas. It was five minutes to 5. The desk wouldn't take my book. I was going to leave it back, but due to peer pressure(the cause of all societies problems) from an older student(how could I not be influenced?!), I hid the book in a different shelf to collect the following day. I'm sorry.

I'm a bad person and deserve whatever is coming to me. I'm now going to drown my sorrows and hold my head in shame whenever I enter the library. It's only fair. Anyway. On that note, I will bid you all adieu. Welcome back, everyone!

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Interview

TNT

Breakfast with Cillian TNT’s Cillian O’Conchúir talks to Cillian Murphy about dropping out of college to act, his favourite co-stars and being nominated for a Golden Globe for ‘Breakfast on Pluto’ The year just gone by saw the emergence of Cillian Murphy onto the summit of the Hollywood scene, as he starred in two of the year’s blockbusters. He first attempted to destroy the world as Dr. Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) in Christopher Nolan’s, Batman Begins Then he played the villainous Jackson Rippner in Wes Craven’s thriller, Red Eye, the film which many believed the best thing about it was the performance of Cillian Murphy and that of Rachel McAdams.

An almost childlike enthusiasm is evident as he talks about his co-stars in Batman Begins. “I’m a big fan of Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman. I got to meet them and they were cool.

Let’s put it this way; you get to meet legends like that.” The film also saw his first role as a villain. “It was something that I had never done before. It had really good directors and a really good script, so I thought I’d give it a go”. His role has contributed to one of the most asked questions, about his fear of being typecast as a villain, something he has no concerns about “I have made ten feature films and I have only been the bad guy in two that just happened to come out one after the other.”

A native of Douglas, Co. Cork, he was a late starter on the acting scene.

He started out as a guitarist in a Frank Zappa inspired band called ‘Sons of Mr. Greengenes,’ and studied law in University College Cork before embarking on a journey which led him to a Golden Globe nomination.

Cillian Murphy, the best thing to come out of Cork since... er... ou don’t make movies to get awards! You make movies to make good movies,” states Cillian Murphy, commenting on the recognition he’s received since being nominated for a Golden Globe for Breakfast on Pluto, alongside Johnny Depp, Pierce Brosnan and the eventual winner Joaquin Phoenix. “I was thrilled to be nominated. I put my heart and soul into Breakfast on Pluto and worked very hard. I believe very much in the film and I love the character.”

‘Breakfast on Pluto’ opened in cinemas on January 13th and Cillian found he had a challenge in bringing the character of Kitten, a transsexual, to the

“Y

big screen. “It was challenging in that I had to play a man who wanted to be a girl, who was still a boy, who doesn’t have a dad. He had to grow up and wanted to love. It is a very complicated part and a part that I fell in love with a lot and I have a lot of affection for the character.”

It is often said that the Golden Globes are an indicator for the Oscars, so what does he make of this talk? “I say that’s fair enough. It’s too foolish to dwell on things that you have no control over. All I can do is believe in the film and the part that I have played. If they decide to nominate me I think that’s great but I have my life to live.”

“Fame is all over rated. I’m just doing a job and this is part of it” He once said: “I’d probably have been wealthier if I had stayed with law, but pretty miserable doing it.” So how close did he come to choosing a life of misery over what he humbly describes now as a ‘privileged position?’ “Well I did it for a year and a half, but I failed my first year. Then I passed the exam and then I ditched it. I always felt that I could go back and continue if I wanted to, but it just wasn’t the right course for me.”

He might not have been where he is today if were not for his persist-

ence. “After going to see a couple of theatre shows in Cork, I found them quite appealing and wanted to pursue acting.

My family thought I was an ejit and thought it was all going to fall apart. I went and I knocked on the door of a theatre company in Cork and they gave me a job in Disco Pigs.”

In 1997, Quando saw Cillian appear on the big screen for the first time

“If I’d stayed studing law I’d probably be wealthier but pretty miserable doing it” and it was an opportunity he didn’t let slip. “I had seen Cillian in the original production of Disco Pigs by Corcadorca in Cork,” says Declan Recks, director of Quando. “He was outstanding in that production and from the moment he ran onto the stage everyone knew he was someone to watch out for.”

By all accounts Cillian made the stage his own but many have tried to make the step from theatre to film and failed. “My only concern at the time,” continues Declan Recks, “was whether or not he could rein in the huge energy that was evident on stage. But he was incredibly focused and learnt very quickly how to tailor his talents to the camera.

It was a small part for him but anyone who saw the film couldn’t but notice his very obvious screen presence.”

He made his television debut in the BBC mini-series, The Way We Live Now but it was as Jim in 28 Days Later (2003) that Cillian was launched onto the world cinema stage, which he followed this up with a leading role in The Girl with a Pearl Earring, alongside Hollywood’s golde Scarlet Johansson and Colin Firth.

He is slow to mention any names in relation to preferred co-stars.

“I’m not going to say I prefer some to others. It would belittle the others.

Brendan Gleeson is a special favourite of mine. He is a bit of a hero of mine and he has been very good to me all the way through my career. Liam Neeson as well.

All these guys have been very important to me and very supportive. I have met so many interesting and fascinating people doing films and theatre that I could never choose one above any of the rest of them.”

TNT

Interview / Our Man Abroad

Murphy While some actors make no secret of their extravagant lifestyle, Cillian seems to have his two feet firmly on the ground, quickly dismissing any suggestion that he is a celebrity. “I don’t consider myself a celebrity. I’m not interested in that sort of thing. It is a very privileged position to be in, to get travel around the world and to get to meet interesting people. I get to do something that I want to do.”

He also was sceptical of the impact of fame on actors. “Fame is all over rated. I’m just doing a job and this is part of it. I just want to make a piece of art. That’s all I really want to do. All this stuff is nice, but I’m not really into going to parties. I would like to have a couple of pints with my buddies and that’s important to me.”

He plays the part of ‘Capa’ in Danny Boyle’s eagerly awaited Science Fiction film, Sunshine, which witnesses him attempt a rescue mission to the sun which is on the brink of dying out.

“There is a group of us on a spaceship flying towards the sun and I’m a good guy,” he adds, referring to the endless questions about him being typecast as a villain. “I have worked with Danny before and I think it will be an amazing film.”

The Wind That Shakes the Barley will also reach cinemas in 2006, but Cillian wasn’t giving much away. “It is about the war of independence in Ireland in Cork; the flying columns, Tom

Barry and the Civil War. I think it will be quite controversial and should raise a few hackles in Cork. It has a wonderful director in Ken Loach and it was an amazing experience.”

“I’m not really into going to parties. I like having a couple of pints with my buddies” Apart from these two further films being released in 2006 Cillian looks forward to spending time with his three month old son, Malachy. “My family are the most important thing to me in the world and everything else is second to them. My life has improved one hundred fold since my son was born. He is the most amazing little man in the world.

I love him and he is what makes life important to me.”

“Looking at his career choices he seems to have been able to achieve the delicate balance of commercial movies with more art house fare and I always look forward to seeing his next movie,” concludes Declan Recks. Cillian finishes by listing off names of actors he would like to co-star alongside in the future. With his talent, laid-back attitude to fame and ability to take on the most diverse of parts, we predict an Oscar on the horizon for Cillian Murphy.

Cillian in Red Eye, 28 Days Later and Breakfast with Pluto

7

Our Man Abroad David Traynor is finding exams in Salamanca very different from TCD ¡Hola chicos! I hope the new year is maybe giving a polite nod to the profestreating you all well. It was with a sense sor, but even that is not necessary. of depression that I trudged back to Today's exam wasn't too bad Salamanca last Saturday. I wished I but I have a tough one on Monday and could have stayed longer. I only had two then an eight day break until my last weeks on the Emerald Isle before I came one. It's been a real wake-up call to see back to the harsh reality of exams and the serious side of university life over assignments. For the first time in my here and God knows it's been good for life, coming home felt more like a holime but I can't wait until next term when day than anything else. there will be less to worry about and the It was great to be home, though, weather is getting warmer. because it felt like a holiday. I spent the You may have seen Spain in the whole time meeting up with friends and news recently for jumping on the everfamily, almost having to tick off a list of growing bandwagon to introduce a people I had to visit. Needless to say, I smoking ban. It came into force here on didn't get to see half of them. So, I the 1st January as part of the Antiarrived back last Saturday after a 14 Tobacco Act which, among many other hour journey through Stansted, taking measures, aims to combat Spain's love the cheap Ryanair option. I won't be affair with the cigarette. So, as you can doing that again for a while.. imagine, when I returned to Salamanca The next day, I was straight after the holidays, I expected to find a back into the swing of things with an rejuvenated, smoke-free Spain. But, alas, assignment due for Monday. I can't realno. As my flatmate and fellow European ly complain though. It's only the second Studies student, Siobhán said, they just piece of work I've had to hand up this seemed to miss the whole point. The term. Whether or not they're just lenient only thing I noticed different was that on Erasmus students, it seems the gener- bars now have signs up saying "It is peral workload over here is lot less than that mitted to smoke in this bar. (Smoking is of Trinity. I've only had to do one bad for your health.)" When I asked one assignment and a presentation so far. of my Spanish flatmates about this, he Anyone else I know here, Spanish or said, "Well, small bars can choose if Erasmus, has had a similarly low workthey're smoking or non-smoking and load. large bars have to provide a non-smokI've also been busy studying for ing area." In other words, Spain opted my exams. Courses here are fully semes- for a cop-out; a half-baked diluted smokterised so the first term ends on the 23rd ing ban, not the Mícheál Martin-style December and then there are no classes "all or nothing" ban which seemed to until the start of the second term, which come into force so seamlessly in Ireland. is the 30 th January. I have three exams Only in Spain.. this month, the first of which I did today.

So, that's all my news for the Exams are an extremely differmoment. Next time I'll be talking to you, ent experience over here compared to I'll have my exams out of the way and what I was used to in Trinity. First of all, hopefully passed so I can start focussing past papers are not disclosed, so, you are again on my social life. Until then, given very little of idea of what type of ¡hasta luego! questions and what areas of the course are going to come up.

Second of all, you do your exam in a classroom with your professor. It is much less formal than Trinity and you don't have to deal with those demonic invigilators.

If you need to leave to go to the toilet, you just get up and go, Salamanca in wintertime: Photo by Jago Tennant

8

Politics

TNT

A Long Way From D4 Derek Owens asks what next for Ivana Bacik, the Labour Party’s Great Red Hope?

RTE's 'Questions and Answers' isn't normally an occasion of high drama. In Kerry, though, they do things differently. Just ask Ivana Bacik. Appearing on the programme near Dingle, she suggested that a recent drop-off in tourism had some connection to hotel owners and shopkeepers charging extortionate prices. "That may be the case where you're from," a spirited Kerryman interjected, "but you're a long way from Dublin 4 now!" The studio erupted. The heckler may have sounded like a character from 'Deliverance', but he had a point. Even before being interrupted, Bacik looked out of her element, warning against the "rehabilitation" of Charles Haughey in an area with long-standing affection for him, showing open contempt for Sinn Féin in the county that elected a gun-runner, and struggling to suffer fools gladly. It's an admirable trait that our criminology professor, who appeared not so long ago as the saviour of champagne socialism, refuses to mince her words. It's also a quality that could just derail a promising political career.

After three unsuccessful election campaigns (for a TCD Seanad seat in 1997 and 2002, and the 2004 European Elections in Dublin) most politicians would be considered a failure. A credible haul of 40,707 votes in 2004, though, her willingness to articulate intensely-held (if unpopular) views, and the aging, increasingly lethargic Labour party made Ivana Bacik's relative youth and energy all the more striking. In a party composed of has-beens and neverweres, Bacik seems like the great red hope, an outspoken, confident voice on the moderate Left. There's growing evidence, though, that this outspoken nature and her growing public profile as a liberal firebrand (not a contradiction in terms), is becoming a problem for her. It's already managed to scupper at least one speaking engagement.

Fordham University, where she was due to speak on immigration and the law, cancelled her appearance in September. This was due, she asserts, to the intervention of Cardinal Edward Egan, and her stance on abortion. The incident says more about Fordham University's intellectual cowardice than it does about Professor Bacik's suitability to speak on immigration, but is a worrying sign of how her reputation as the uncompromising, slightly shrill voice of South Dublin liberalism precedes her. Her recent decision to bring a case before the European court of human rights on behalf of the group 'Safe and Legal in Ireland', hardly dispels this image. It's brave, even in today's Ireland, to argue the case for abortion as a fundamental human right. It's also electoral suicide.

Lest we forget, Bacik's priority at this point in time, if she still harbors political ambitions, must surely be to win public

office. Her chosen party, her background, and her views make it hard to see her having electoral success outside the socially liberal, affluent and left-leaning districts of South Dublin. A quick look at individual constituencies, though, show that securing a party nomination, let alone a Dáil seat, is going to be a battle. Her home constituency of Dublin South East is shared with Ruari Quinn, who struggled badly to retain his

Conventional wisdom holds that there's only one Labour seat in this threeseater constituency.

Conventional wisdom is right. seat in 2002. The former Labour leader is highly unlikely to accept a running mate so soon after his brush with unemployment.

Next door, Dublin South Central has a sitting Labour TD in the form of Mary Upton, and an ambitious local councillor in Eric Byrne. Byrne has had two stints as a Dáil deputy already and, with a hard election campaign looming, (both Fine Gael and Labour are anxious to poach a seat from Fianna Fáil) Labour members are more likely to go with the experienced poll-topping local councillor as Upton's running mate. Dublin South-West, meanwhile, is solidly working class. It's also Pat Rabbitte country. Not only is Bacik's party leader ferociously territorial (his declining personal approval ratings and the tendency o f

Labour leaders seeking re-election to struggle won't do much to change this) but the area also has another left-wing Dáil deputy in Sinn Féin's Aengus Ó Snodaigh. His continuing rise, and the prospect of a clash with the dangerous Rabitte, should be enough to warn Bacik off this area.

On the face of it, Dublin South seems an ideal home for Professor Bacik: a constituency with five seats, and no Labour TDs. The one problem is that Labour have already had their selection conference here - in fact, the battle for the Labour nomination was a dead heat, and county councillor Aidan Culhane's name had to be drawn from a hat. Tagging Bacik's name on the ticket in an area where the party is both divided and lacking electoral support wouldn't be the smartest thing Labour's central office has ever done. It would also alienate local activists, including Culhane himself (and Alex White, the unlucky loser at the convention). Strangely, a tie-breaker situation also cropped up selecting a candidate for Dublin Mid-West. This time Joanna Tuffy (who performed strongly in the last general election) got lucky, after failing to beat Robert Dowds, another ambitious councillor, in a straight vote among local party members.

Conventional wisdom holds that there's only one Labour seat to be won in this three-seater constituency. Conventional wisdom is right.

All this leaves one potential home for Bacik in South Dublin - as a running mate to Eamon Gilmore in the volatile Dun Laoire-Rathdown area. There are several seats here for the taking - Cieran Cuffe of the Greens has never really recovered from embarrassing revelations about a notso-green share portfolio and F i o n a O'Malley, the i n e ff e c t i v e Progresssive Democrat deputy, is strongly tipped to lose her seat.

Ironically she managed to alienate local PD activists by putting friendship above party loyalty, campaigning for Bacik in the European elections - returning the favour by muscling into her friend's constituency and nabbing her Dáil seat would certainly prove Bacik's determination. It would also earn her the reputation as a coldhearted harridan. There's also Éamon Gilmore, pessimistic about local Labour support and unhappy about the prospect of a running mate, to think about, and a local organisation dominated by ex-Democratic Left members. These more traditional Irish lefties are far from certain to take to the university professor. There is a hope for a seat in this constituency, but the complications may be too much to overcome.

There is no such thing as an easily-won seat. For Bacik in 2007, though, it's even more problematic. There simply isn't room for her in any South Dublin constituencies, while sending her out beyond the pale would be a waste of a fine candidate. If Bacik is to find her way into Leinster House, it's probably going to be via the back door of the Seanad. She can either hope that Labour fights its way into government (and that a Taoiseach's nomination falls her way) or she can do it for herself. This will entail a nationwide charm-offensive on county councillors, or another tilt at a Trinity Seanad seat. On the face of it, the latter course looks far more realistic: She narrowly lost out to Senator Mary White in her 2002 bid for a seat in the Seanad, and White has already declared her intention to retire rather than stand again. A sitting senator, David Norris, may have the left-leaning liberal votes already well staked out, but her high national profile should still help sew up election here.

So a Seanad seat at least is a real possibility for Labour's new hope in the next few years, and David Norris should quite rightly be spooked. But then what?

The safest course of action would be to sit tight in Leinster House, waiting for her constituency colleague Ruari Quinn to retire gracefully and leave her with a clear path to the Dáil. By then, though, it could easily be 2012, and who knows what bright young thing will emerge for Labour in the meantime? Five years spent in the Seanad could expose Bacik to damaging media scrutiny, or worse, anonymity. The voting public are less deferential to unknown senators than they used to be, particularly in Dublin. The Trinity professor may be talented, intelligent, and (in the right area) very electable, but she has trapped herself by her temperament, views and background in the already overcrowded political pond of South Dublin. The great red hope's career in politics may be effectively over before winning a single election.

TNT

Politics

9

The Kids are Alright - The Case for Youth Politics Carl Fox Irish politics suffers from a rather serious and debilitating confusion. As a state, we seem to be unable to distinguish between which issues are local, and which are national. I’ve no idea who said that all politics is local, but I’d like to give the individual in question a good shake. This kind of thinking has been holding our political development back for generations.

In this country, local government is a joke. Very few people take it at all seriously and it’s commonly seen as a training ground for a run at the Dáil. This is neither the case, nor how things should be. Local government exists for a very specific reason, namely, and forgive me if you saw this coming from the start, the governance of local issues. That’s its remit, that’s why it’s there. Unfortunately, the tendency is for everyone to simply ignore it and go straight to the local T.D. with any problem. If a concerned citizen needs a third speed bump on the road, or the sink fixed, or possibly someone to water the flowers then it’s his/her representative in the national parliament that gets a call. Now, generally all a T.D. can do is to refer the matter to the city or county council via a question, or pass it off to a colleague on said council. With the end of the dual mandate, T.D.s have no real power to get a playground built or a new set of traffic lights installed.

However, the perception still persists that

they’re the only ones who can, and we continue to elect politicians on the basis of what they’ll do for us, and the local area.

The whole country seems to be missing the point of having a national parliament at all. They’re all there to discuss issues of national significance, and make decisions based on the good of the nation as a whole. Questions about how we want our society to proceed have national answers. Education, job creation, standards of employment and so on, are not challenges that we can deal with on a unitary level, in a fragmented way. We need to untie the hands of our representatives and we need to learn to take a broader view of politics and re-evaluate what it is that we want to get out of democratic elections.

This is where youth politics and involvement with political parties in college should prove invaluable. There seems always to exist a certain suspicion of mainstream political activism, in that participants are often seen as enhancing their C.V.s and looking to further their own ambitions. And it’s amazing how easily people are turned off political discussion by mistrust of motives and personalities. Whether you agree with them or not, college political parties are providing an almost unique facility, they’re offering to debate and argue theory and practice in a way that’s not constricted by the unfortunate realities of electoral politics. You’re not their constituents and they

aren’t expected to appease you. When college branches and youth organisations talk about things like social policy and economic theory they’re discussing the national concerns that we don’t generally see our T.D.s coming to us on the doorsteps about.

Don’t treat on-campus political activity as merely an extension of political parties. There’s a fundamental difference in the essence and character, a difference that needs to spread outwards.

It’s not just the level of idealism, it’s the freedom to pursue national, and even supra-national, objectives without the hindrance of immersion in the nitty-gritty of local affairs. I think everyone who’s involved in politics at almost any level regularly feels the temptation to go

Athenian on the silent, apathetic majority, and if you’ve read this far then I see no reason to restrain myself this time. A democracy is as strong, or as real, as the amount of participation by the citizenry, and the depth and breadth of its understanding. There has to be a responsibility to engage with the political process and how this takes place is crucial to the development of politics in Ireland and further afield.

Youth politics can be the grounding that gives future leaders the imagination to take this country away from the all too pervasive culture of locality and blinkered self-interest. It is capable of producing generations of politicians prepared to make the structural changes necessary. It can also be a way for us all to raise consciousness of the national issues that get swept under the carpet by the fuss made over their counterparts that, while important, are simply too confined and insular to impinge on a national legislature. Early involvement at a theoretical level may not seem practical or useful to many, however, it is one established and straightforward way to broaden the scope of our collective view of government, and hopefully instil a radically new approach to the use of the colossal amount of energy and activity expended on politics in this country. Who would argue that it couldn’t be better spent than on false promises and phoney posturing?

Carl Fox is Chair of the Trinity Branch of the Labour Party

Is This the End of the Liberal Line?

Hugh Roche-Kelly sizes up the would-be leaders of the LibDems Ahh... Charles Kennedy's gone. I know he wasn't great, but at least he was human. He was the most liked British politician, even if we now know that was more to do with a steady flow of intoxicating vapours that emanated from his rosy cheeks at all times.

British politics has lost an essential component in the love triangle of party leaders; the affable drunkard has up to now provided a counterpoint to the machiavellian Cameron (who has recently been using his handicapped son as a pity card) and the image consultant-in-training that is Blair. (I mean, really, that video diary? Good God it's truly painful to watch. I didn't even want to watch it, I was looking for pornography).

So who is going to replace him? Well, between now and the first week of March there should, in theory, be just as much back stabbing polemic and ranting that characterised the Tory leadership race in 2005, so we can all look forward to a riveting... oh wait. Sorry, this is the Liberal Democrats, they don't do exciting. Which is why Kennedy will be missed. Ah well, time to move on and that… But to whom?

Well, the guy who’s provisionally in charge is Sir Menzies Campbell. He would have been an obvious enough choice- elder

statesman and all that- was well respecteduntil he stabbed Kennedy in the back (probably with a bottle). Et tu, Menzus. If he were to gain the leadership, he would, apparently, rid the contemporary political debate of “flim flam,” according to the party’s former leader Lord Ashdown. Most people use cough syrup for that. Besides, the flim-flam mightn’t have to worry too much. Many former loyal supporters of Sir Campbell

have turned against him over the fact that he really made it pretty obvious that he was spending the nights between Kennedy’s admission and Kennedy’s resignation saying “excellent…” a lot. And the fact that his nickname is “Ming” is just a bad idea. Also, he’s old. Er. This seems to be the entire campaign against Campbell so far, basically he’s an old fart with a stupid name. Sir Ming.

Honestly.

The man waging (perhaps “wagging” is a better word, remember what party we’re talking about) the aforementioned campaign is, well, funny looking. His name is Mark Oaten, and he looks like the sort of person who eats things called ‘toad in the hole,’ ‘spotted dick,’ or ‘bread and butter pudding.’ He’s got the private backing of Kennedy, but whether or not this is a good thing is yet to be seen.

If he focuses too much on the unceremonial ‘decapitation’ of his predecessor, he’s going to be seen as belonging to the old school of ‘nice and easy there’ Lib Dems. (i.e. amiable drunkard.) Even he seems philosophically cynical about his chances, stating that even if he himself does lose, then Campbell will “only be a stop gap measure” (the implication here presumably

being that he’ll be dead soon). Campbell is the favourite among MPs, but the entire

The entire campaign against Campbell so far is that he’s an old fart with a stupid name. Sir Ming.

Honestly... point of Oaten’s campaign seems to be that he believes the same handful of MPs who kicked Kennedy out shouldn’t be the ones who decide the new leader.

Hmm. Well, no one’s really going to be that excited about it all. Things were going ok- big increases in the last election (that could, admittedly, have been better) and a leader who was despite all his faults among the chief attractions of the party. Sir Ming will probably end up in charge, but as Oaten so cruelly pointed out, he won’t be around for long. Kennedy’s departure has left the party in considerable trouble and Campbell’s likely election will divide the Liberals further and lead to inevitable instability. Trust the Lib Dems to misstep at another crucial point.

Cartoons by Michael Church

10

Talking Heads

TNT

Q: Who would be your dream act (alive or dead) to see play at the Trinity Ball this year?

Interviews by Christine Bohan U2 - I know it’s unrealistic but to see them play here would be legend Katherine McGovern, JS Geography and Sociology Republic of Loose would be deadly. Did they play last year? Damn I missed them.

It’d be cool to see them though.

John Dillon, JS Economics and Business NWA. It’s a pity they broke up about 15 years ago Peter Henry, SS Biblical and Theological Studies Classic Beatles played a few years ago and they were brilliant, they should bring them back Andrew Latham, SS Politics and Sociology Bell XI. I don’t know if they’re too big for the Ball

now cos they sold out the RDS but a couple of them went to college here so it’d be cool to have them back Rachel Merrigan, SF French and Italian Take That are playing in the Point a couple of weeks before the Ball so maybe they could hang around Dublin and play here. So many memories!

Aoife Sherlock, SS Sociology Muse cos there’s no-one comparable to them and Matt Bellamy is one of the most talented musicians ever Maeve O’Gorman, JF English and History

again Marc Faulkner, JF Theoretical Physics It’s a bit on the unrealistic side for a whole lot of reasons but Led Zeppelin Darragh Gannon, JF Engineering Weezer! The last allbum was a bit ropey but they played Dublin twice last year and they were excellent Christine McDermott, SF Philosophy and Political Science

like to see. Going to their gig in a couple of months anyway so that’ll be cool Breda Smith, JF Nursing Kanye West would be legend Enda Lyons, SF Sociology and Social Policy Damien Dempsey. He’s playing Rag Week but he can just come back again for the Trinity Ball.

Thomas Nulty, JF Engineering

Thin Lizzy but not the halfassed reformed version, the Manic Street Preachers, if proper one with Phil Lynnott they played loads of the early Patrick Brunkard, JF stuff.

Nursing Penny Harte, JF Theoretical Physics Maybe Arctic Monkeys cos The Kaiser Chiefs, if they’re they’re on the rise so it’d be not too big for it.

Bob Dylan a good time to get them and Billy Fogarty, SS Electronic Fox Alexander, JF French there’s actually a chance of Engineering and History getting them Joe McGinchey JF BESS Aslan. They played the Bon Jovi put on the best live Buttery in October and I show I’ve ever seen so The Sultans of Ping think they could rock it up they’d be the act I’d most Jen Davis, JS Year History

Bell X1, Weezer, Oasis and Take That: The oddest Ball line up ever

TNT

Fashion

11

Thrift Store Fabulous at your Fingertips

Retro Styles, Asian Silks, 70s glam and 80spunk. All part of the thrift store experience in the city’s southside. By Carmen Bryce. Photos by Richeal Carroll and Cian Kennedy Divert, if just for one afternoon, from your usual commercial shop hopping and open your eyes to the plethora of thrift and vintage stores around Dublin.

A treasure chest of second hand fashion and vintage funk from every corner of the globe. Spots such as Wild Child on Camden Street, The Market Arcade on George’s Street and The Harlequin on Castle Market are a must see for affordable and unique treads.

A store that time forgot, The Harlequin is a haven of styles from every era, from 40’s sophisticate, 60’s retro and 80’s sparkle .Opening the store 12 years ago, mother and daughter

Bollywood cinema.

If you’re looking to embrace the 70s vixen screaming to get out and boogie on down then hit the garment and furniture store Wild Child for disco and hippy kitch for every occasion.

Based on the premise that the 70s glam never goes out of fashion, Wildchild is crammed with gear straight out of Saturday Night fever. Its funky attitude puts the fun back into fashion and if the clothing doesn’t grab you then maybe the collection of groovy furniture, giggletastic dress-up gear and eye-catching gadgets will. Pick up accessories such as slinkies, beanie chairs, stash boxes and Playboy playing cards, for both the ladies and the men here.

Its time to turn your back on Topshop and get set to embrace the thrift store experience that is sweeping

Base Store is the best for men’s street wear in the shape of hilarious slogan T.Shirts, trendy hoodies and the most popular of stock, the classic army jacket. Boasting visits from Richard Ashcroft and Cillian Murphy (before his latest film role perhaps) this store captures the essence of Brit-pop culture with credible styles that are rough around the edges.

Another store with more street cred and cool than Liam Gallagher himself is the delectable Retro. Manager

The range of vintage gear available at Wildchild on Camden Street. such as a range of bags jumping off the rack for €9 and a variety of elegant Asian dresses for no more than €20.

Similarly, for a taste of the Orient, visit Om Diva which houses a range of Asian garments and flowing, silk gowns for feminine and seductive fashion. Twenty five year old manager Siohan Lynch prides herself on the authenticity of the fabrics, sporting bags made out of Indian antique wedding gowns and modelled closely on

A treasure chest of second hand fashion and vintage funk from every corner of the globe... team Susan and Fiona Smyth know what it takes to make a store of this nature successful. The tiny shop is literally crammed to the rafters with authentic leather and fur lined coats, hand crafted dresses, print t-shirts of every colour and slogan under the sun and timeless accessorises that will never go out of fashion. The second-hand gear is in superb nick and reeks of authenticity as many of the garments have been perserved in mint condition since the 1930’s.

Perfect for a lazy, browsing Saturday with paycheck in your back pocket is the Market Arcade. It’s easy to lose yourself for hours amongst the unique styles of English, American and Asian designers. The best stalls in my opinion are Retro, Mahorani, Base andthe unique designs of Om Diva. The

Ann-Marie Dabiri has filled the store with designs from London, Germany, Spain and New York, cramming the shelves with a fusion of fabric and styles for both guys and dolls. The store is over-stocked with Sex Pistols badges, Blondie wigs, Ramones T.Shirts, 1950s dotty dresses and punk-tastic accessories. The most eye-catching items are those from small London-based company ‘Charles,’ that cater only for Retro and pride themselves on their unique blend of punk patterns and print.

On the opposite end of the fashion scale, Mahorani is the place to visit for elegant Asian styles, ranging from hand-crafted, patchwork silk bags from India and Pakistan to Japanese kimonos and accessories shipped over from the far East. This is one of the cheaper stores with jaw-dropping offers

Dress to impress in Asian fabrics and shriking oriental colours at Om Diva.

the nation. Even millionaire celebrities, such as Sienna Miller and Kate Moss have been snapped rummaging through the racks in search of authentic vintage gear. When it comes to thrift store shopping, its worth putting some time in, making shopping an experience rather than a chore, even for the men.

Cheap, funky and full of surprises, it’s simply a student’s prerogative to do it thrift store style.

Put the right foot forward in The Harlequinon on Castle Market.

12

Books

TNT

This month TNT Books is suffering from a severe case of the winter blues: Anna Ni Chaoimh hates herself and wants to die, while Paul Earlie’s girlfriend is in a coma...(not literally!)

Girlfriend in a Coma Paul Earlie indugles in some wallowing as he reviews Douglas Coupland’s novel I’m a big fan of melancholia. It’s one of the finest forms of self-indulgence, like sarcasm, or shopping in Marks and Spenser. If melancholia, is then: to become the new opium of the as-yet-adolescent masses (angst is just so passé). Where are we to get our fix? ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’ would probably be a pretty good place to start.

To read ‘Girlfriend’ is to wallow, flounder even, in everything that makes life (and in particular youth) blow. The book’s author, none other than the “Poet Laureate of Generation X” Douglas Coupland, sums things up quite succinctly: “Your 20s are muck and shit and pain and loneliness and horror.” Fair enough. If this kind of relentlessly bleak (and frankly hostile) outlook on life offends some of your more tender sensibilities, best look away now. ‘Girlfriend’ is not for the faint of heart.

And yet, as I started reading I decided that this is a book everyone should before their twenties, or at least during their twenties. The feeling of oppression and density which suffuses the first half of Coupland’s novel is much more than admirable: it’s damn near aweinspiring.

The year is 1979. Richard, a perfectly mediocre American high school senior, deflowers his girlfriend on a ski slope, then takes her to a suitably out-of-control party where she proceeds to mix drinks and drugs (uh oh) and ultimately hurls herself headlong into a 17-year coma. As you can see, the plot is relatively unadventurous – three parts boy-meets-girl, one part It’s a Wonderful Life, a dash of the X-Files, crowned with a light sprinkling of metaphysics. What makes the book different is the fact that Karen (the “girlfriend” of the title) eventually awakens from her extended coma and promptly delivers some home-truths about her now middle-aged friends’ modern lifestyles. It’s an interesting take on an old formula, and for a few chapters at least it manages to sufficiently rouse the reader’s sense of intrigue.

Karen’s rebirth into mid-nineties Vancouver provides the novel with a rather neat division, which unfortunately doesn’t work much in the book’s favour. The disjointed structure of the book (it almost seems like two books) leaves something of an aftertaste in the reader’s mouth, and not a good one. This is perhaps the novel’s biggest flaw. On the one hand, we have the unadulterated melancholia of the first half of the novel as Richard and his fittingly diverse (some might say implausibly so) group of friends cope with the aftermath of Karen’s coma, while simultaneously trying to balance the nightmarish journey through their twenties. This section works, in the truest sense of the word, as the reader joins in with Coupland’s ever-degenerating cast as they scream questions about existence to which they are never given answers: Why is there so much suffering in the world?

Why can’t I find someone? Why am I so lonely?

Now these are universal questions, and they’ll doubtlessly strike a chord with pretty much anyone who picks up the novel. However, things begin to take quite a dramatic downhill turn as soon as Coupland attempts to provide answers to these questions, mostly through the medium of Karen’s physical and spiritual reawakening. To do this, Coupland employs a typically clichéd apocalyptic scenario: Karen’s rebirth heralds the end of time itself (no, seriously) in the form of a plague that causes people to nod off into a deathly sleep (or coma, if you will). The chaos that ensues form this plague is entertaining enough while it lasts, as civilisation itself begins to implode, and Mother Nature returns to reclaim what was so rudely stolen from her in the first place.

Unfortunately, instead of playing around with this

scenario and seeing if he can find a new perspective on things, Coupland goes and botches everything by having his preachy prophet Karen and her (at this point) unbearably whiney friends make fairly rudimentary statements about the shallowness of Generation X, their unquestioning devotion to the technological age, and their utter lack of spirituality. This is a mistake. Fables (and in particular moral fables such as this) work by dissimulating their message, by being merely suggestive, not by having their characters pause, look at the camera, and make sweeping statements about modern youth culture.

That said, I just can’t dismiss the first half of the book as easily as I can dismiss the book’s second half (with its sudden injection of fantasy and its woefully clichéd ending, which one of Coupland’s characters actually identifies at one point as being a kind of inverted version of It’s a Wonderful Life – groan). I mentioned earlier Nietzsche’s clever little subtitle, and that deserves an elaboration. This is a book you should read while young, before middle-age hits, and everything starts to seem like the End of Days. Just save yourself the sermon and stop before the half-way mark: there’s plenty of time for lectures in the real world.

“I Hate Myself and Want to Die” Anna Ni Chaoimh cheers herself up by reading Tom Reynold’s first book There are songs that make grateful to be alive, some that make you cry, and others that simply make you want to get the razor blades out and run a nice hot bath.

What is it about depressing songs that makes them so memorable? Is it the gutwrenching lyrics, the story behind them, the melancholic melodies? Tom Reynolds, in I Hate Myself, and Want to Die; The 52 Most Depressing Songs You’ve Ever Heard, describes depressing song as one that ruins your day when it comes on the radio The introduction concentrates on the history of depressing songs, beginning with Homer, and its irreverence is quite witty. Reynolds goes into great detail on the urban-legend of ‘Gloomy Sunday’, the song whose lyrics have been found at the scene of over 100 suicides and has been banned in many

countries. The collection is broken down into 10 categories of doom and gloom, with labels such as ‘She Hates Me, I Hate Her’ and ‘I’m Telling A Story Nobody Wants To Hear’.

Reynolds is moderately witty and does have a good understanding of the technical aspect of these songs, which is interesting if you like that sort of thing. He draws attention any semiotic and scientific mistakes, which is very amusing. For example, Evanescence, he points out, uses the term ‘resonating light’ in ‘My Immortal’ but light doesn’t resonate. Also, in the Counting Crows’ song, ‘Round Here’, ‘no-one notices the contrast of white on white’, which displays an unfortunate misunderstanding of the word ‘contrast’.

He can be seriously conserva-

tive and sometimes just very wrong judgments; He describes Joy Divisions ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ as ‘a tad obvious’. However, half of the fun is in disagreeing with his sweeping judgments and getting fixated on the song he’s missed, or fuming about the fact that he has targeted songs you quite like.

At times, he confuses depressing music with just plain BAD music.

The fact that his criteria aren’t properly set down gets quite frustrating because surely Celine Dion’s version of ‘All By Myself’ and Pink Floyd’s ‘Comfortably Numb’ can’t be considered depressing for the same reasons?

If subject matter is what makes a song depressing, where are the obvious choices like The Smiths, Elliot Smith, Lou Reed, Nick Cave, Radiohead, and the band from whom the title was taken,

Nirvana?

Or, if it is just really bad pop music that fits the bill, why is he so concerned with the navel-gazing projects of accomplished artists. Having said that, including a CD would have been a nice touch. As it stands, I look forward to the release of a CD, so that I can sing along with a hairbrush in one hand and a razor in the other. It ends on a strong note, with a complete countdown of doom, ranking the songs from numbers 52 to 1.

This is the perfect crescendo to a book that perfectly suits this time of year; People feel low, suicide rates are high and summer feels like an eternity away.

TNT

Theatre

The ISDA’s are acoming soon...

With the biggest event of the year on the horizon, Hilary Term is looking like a good opportunity to see the cream of Student Drama, David Lydon reports.

Christmas has been and gone, we’re well into the New Year and Hilary Term has arrived, bringing with it the promise of the Irish Student Drama Awards, or the ISDA’s when they’re at home. Every Easter, colleges from across the country compete in the prestigious awards, making it the most important event in the calendar of any self-respecting student theatre company.

The ISDA’s have proved very successful for Players over the years, with last year’s UCD-hosted awards earning several successes for the plays entered. This year, the awards are taking place in Cork, and Players will be looking to add to the numerous awards that the society has already

won.

As the awards are looming on the horizon, speculation is rife regarding the playsthat are to be selected. The Players committee assess every play from the previous year, before deciding upon the three or four that have the best chance of doing Trinity proud. This term alone there are two shows a week from week 3 onwards until the end of term, so there are plenty of potential candidates.

It’s too early into the term making any predictions, but all of the plays that are being performed are likely to be strong candidates.

From a audience perspective, take the opportunity to see as many of the shows as you can, as this term is already shaping up nicely. You never know, when Players return triumphantly from the ISDA’s you could claim to be one of the lucky few too have seen the show before it was famous!

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The English Patient visits Dublin The Dublin Theatre scene eagerly anticipates the appearance of one of the industry’s most versatile and famous names as Ralph Fiennes comes to town. Fiennes has earned fame for playing diverse and often controversial roles such as Count Laszlo de Almásy in the English Patient (1996) and Amon Goeth in Schindler’s List (1994), both earning him Oscar nominations.

Last year was one of his most successful, with roles in Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Hary Potter and The Goblet of Fire and The Constant Gardener. The latter has received considerable critical acclaim, with many critics predicting another nomination at next month’s Academy Awards.

He will be appearing in Brian Friel’s play Faith Healer at the Gate this February alongside Ingrid Craigie and Ian McDiarmuid, established stars themselves, in Jonathan Kent’s production. Fiennes is no stranger to the stage, having appeared in, amongst others, Hamlet on Broadway, which earnd him a Tony Award.

The play marks another collaboration between Friel and The Gate, who have expressed their delight at working with “Ireland’s greatest living playwright” in one of his finest plays.” The Gate website

describes the show as “the tale of Frank Hardy, a Faith Healer, who has spent a life-time touring the decayed villages of Scotland and Wales with his manager, Teddy, and his wife/mistress, Grace.

Now he accepts that he must return home to Ireland, a destiny he can no longer postpone. The story of their touring and of their fateful return is told in separate, often contradictory, stories by Grace and Teddy and Frank himself. These narratives taken together make up a mosaic that is both compelling and terrifying.”

Not surprisingly given the hype surrounding the play, expectation is high for what should be a must-see. The Irish Times have already heralded the production as being “Absorbing fiction… brilliant and profound…

an infinitely fine play.” Faith Healer has the potential to be the biggest piece of drama Dublin has seen for a long time, and the public interest generated by the stellar cast will ensure tickets will be difficult to get hold of. There is already talk of the show transferring to Broadway in April, with 2005 Tony Award winner Cherry Jones taking Craigie’s role. If you go to one show this term, make it this one.

Faith Healer by Brain Friel (directed by Jonathan Kent) begin its run in the Gate Theatre nightly from the 7th of February. Previews start on the 2nd February. For more information, visit the Gate’s website, www.gate~theatre.ie

Ralph Fiennes, in Dublin now

Stuarts, Iguanas and Henry VIII in London After a strangely quiet summer London’s West End has been awash with hard-hitting drama this winter, reports our London Theatre Correspondent Mark Wright The Donmar Warehouse’s inspiring production of Schiller’s Mary Stuart now coming to the end of its run at the Apollo is an incredibly powerful examination of corrupt political machinations. The play which charts the final days of Mary Stuart’s life in the run up to her execution by Elizabeth I contains two of the strongest female roles in theatre with Janet McTeer and Harriet Walters, playing Mary and Elizabeth respectively, dominate the roles. Their animosity, shaded by an almost bitter mutual respect, makes for powerful viewing, especially when offset by the strong ensemble of hideously spineless and reptilian politicians who surround them.

In contrast Tennessee Williams’ Night of the Iguana at the Lyric falls down slightly on it’s company, some of whom occasionally seem to lapse from their intended Texan accents into a slightly bizarre and misplaced Devonshire lilt.

However the three central characters; a defrocked priest turned tour guide

(Woody Harrelson), a horny beach cabin resort owner (Clare Higgins) and a travelling high-class female con-artist (Jenny Seagrove) are phenomenal. The play has its comic moments, and will be familiar territory to Williams’ fans, dealing with

Woody Harrelson

loneliness, rejection from society and insanity. For a moment, like the characters themselves, we almost believe redemption is possible as opposites appear to attract but it is not to be and the mournful aching desolation which the playwright specialised in will stay with you long after the curtain has fallen.

There is a searing, almost painful, emotional emptiness. It is the silent, soulwrenching cry which no-one will hear, a vision of humanity lost in tragic isolation.

And finally, Robert Bolt’s play A Man for All Seasons, which opened last week at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. Of the three, this is the weakest script but by the end you won’t notice. The play’s subject is the fall from grace and execution of Sir Thomas More by King Henry VIII for refusing to acknowledge the royal divorce and rejection of the Roman Papacy. Whilst the script itself never addresses More’s inner demons over his decision it redeems itself by sticking

very closely to transcripts and diaries from the day. Martin Shaw’s representation of the lawyer saint’s canny defence of his position, and his resolute obedience to the King exerts terrifying depths of humility and faith. The rawness of his betrayed and perjured against (yet unbroken) figure is breath-taking and the production which is cleverly staged between two staircases is an awe-inspiring showcase for the man Benedict Nightingale last week declared the most gifted actor on the British stage. Shaw drew a standing ovation the night I saw it and it’s not hard to see why. If you have to swim to get there, it’ll be worth it.

Want to write? That’s a good idea! Promises of free tickets, artistic credibility and general popularity beckon...

Emails to lydond@tcd.ie.

14

Staying In

TNT

Hate Something, Change Something: Ads We Hate to Hate Hannah Scally “Marge, if we don’t watch the commercials it’s like we’re stealing TV” Homer explains in one episode of The Simpsons.

I was reading an article the other day that was talking about companies using more product placement within shows to counter the increasing problem of what they called ‘ad-avoidance’.

Avoidance is right. Bad ads are people you’ve met and know, just know you never want to talk to, ever, ever again. They turn you into a horrible person. That Meteor lap-dancing ad, in male or female form, is one that would make me dive behind a post-box to get out of the path of. And the Maltesers ad with the giant women on space-hoppers. The Tayto ad with the “He loves me, he loves me not” madwoman meanwhile, I would be prepared to scramble over small chil-

Bad ads are people you’ve met and know, just know you never want to talk to, ever, ever again... dren to get away from. Other approaches are to blank it as if it’s not happening, to pretend you’ve never met it before, or, when truly stuck, to shout at it in skincrawling irritation. Sometimes, perversely, you can decide to watch them anyway as an excercise in resilience - ‘going for the mental burn’, if you will.

Prime bad-ad candidates, incidentally, include car ads (tedious), mort-

gage/loan/insurance/claim ads (tedious and depressing), ads for shopping centres in Northern Ireland (agressive and depressing), and the absolute worst, ads for anything in the Midlands.

Advertisers, meanwhile, are busy thinking up ways to trap you with them at the bus stop. My response to that was “well, if they didn’t make the ads so bloody tedious (see above), I wouldn’t try and avoid them.” One of the reasons I love watching rubbishy late-night TV is because the breaks are about one ad long.

Then, I remembered my friend and I singing the Hellman’s Mayonnaise song out of sheer disbelief to a group of bemused Scottish people in a pub, because they have Hellman’s ads over there, but not the theme song, and the fact that my sister and I once discovered we could jingle-sing our way through two thirds of the contents of our fridge.

And some ads, anyway, are brilliant.

Everyone talks about them and they go on for ages and then a new one is brought out using the same gag, and then another and another until the Duracell bunny dies. Same old.

What I have noticed cropping up recently and with more proliferation are the programmes about ads - The 100 Best Ads Ever, Tarrant on TV, that annoying Ed Byrne one with the terrible graphics. Apart from the fact that this is TV cannabalism on a new level - a having-already-tipped-the-crumbs-out,going-back-and-licking-the-flavouringoff-the-packet sort of thing, (That better not be the subconscious effect of the

Hate something, change something: The cartoon Honda ad

We feel very sorry for the guy that she’s after Tayto reference) - they actually often make quite good telly (feel free to start that sentence again if you got lost).

Better, surely, than Pat Kenny talking to some RTE presenter or other about their new show on RTE which will be on after this.

Wikipedia (all hail) tells us that the first ad ever was broadcast in 1941 in the U.S., for $9 during a baseball match.

It also tells us that the half hour programme today is around 9 minutes shorter that the same programme in the sixties - and that re-runs of sixties shows are almost certain to be cut by that 9 minutes to allow for more ads. Somehow, this manages to irritate me, even though I don’t exactly watch a lot of sixties TV, particularly in the U.S. which is what they’re talking about.

Love-hate? Maybe. Whatever.

Honda, the people who brought us the ‘Grrr Song’ ad (hate something, change

something, make something betterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!) with the cartoon of the diesel engine, which I downloaded because it makes me feel happy - are bringing out a new ad. This seems to be a television event. Apparently it’s going to have a choir ‘singing’ the sounds of a car driving. By the time this article is printed, it will already be out and it might be rubbish. However. A really tiny part of me is anticipating that ad, and hoping it’s going to be good. Mustn’t steal.

Handy Hannah’s Helpful Hint: www.whatsthatcalled.co.uk has a list of most of the songs used in British ads, so if some tune is really bugging you, or you really like the song that accompanies the latest Ford car, you can find out what it is. Table quiztastic.

TNT

Going Out

15

Top 5 things to do in Trinity this week

After the success of the last one, the Mystery Trip is back. Tickets went on sale yesterday (Monday) from the SU shop and cost €25.

The trip is on Feb 2nd, and hits 3 venues in 15 hours

Ignore the less-than-complimentary review we gave it (below) and get along to the Rappers and Slappers night in XXI to officially launch Rag Week tonight. Tickets €5 from the SU shop

Bígí ag caint Gaeilge mar is é Seachtain na Gaeilge an tseachtain seo! There’s a County Colours Céilí and Speed Dating in the Buttery on Wednesday so dig out your fáinne and impress with your cúpla focail.

Suas are holding their by-now annual Bollywood Night in the Sugar Club this Thursday. Tickets €7 from SU Shop and Arts/Hamilton stands, with loads of spot prizes on the night

We’re a bit hazy on this one but we know that Damien Dempsey is playing the Buttery some time during Rag Week next week. Seize the day (hoho!) and make sure you go along to see him

The Club Review: XXI D’Olier Street Claire Keaveny and Donal Carey The holidays managed to fly by so fast with numerous social engagements, that club reviews were put firmly to wayside, until the deadline reminder email came a-knocking, we knew we were in trouble.

So after many a heated discussion about where to go at the last minute, Twentyone was somehow decided on, just like when we were young and unfortunately ended up in Coyote and to this day nobody knows how. Especially considering no one ever ever wanted to go there. Like this article it was a rushed last minute decision that everybody regrets.

The night we made it to Twentyone, it was raining; it always seems to rain when you go to Twentyone, anybody else ever noticed this? Maybe this is because the queues unwelcomingly long, and rain-soaked. They could realise this and actually let people in a rate of more than one per minute! When the long arduous wait is over, you meet the dullest banterless bouncers. They seem to have a dislike for when you don’t have ID with you, but eventually let you in, purely to fill their minutely quota.

Then you’re faced with the ‘death-trap stairs’, which for those with walking -down-stairs difficulties while sober is not a welcome sight. Combine this phobia people have with stairs and throw in the rain and you have literally a deadly combination. At the bottom of these death defying stairs, you’re faced with yet another banterless bouncer, who enforces an extortionate entry fee onto you. This fee is constantly high and not in tune with the rest of student prices.

You are really starting to wonder what you’ve let yourself into. Then you see inside...

The layout is badly organised, which is apparent from the cloakroom

Saturday from 11 o’clock. Oh and bythe-by it’s not a 21 only door policy (the name is actually their address!)

Scoreboard

“For those who can’t afford a taxi for two, they now have beds...” queue which is long and blocks the ladies toilets. This congestion gives science students ample opportunities to stalk the ‘ladies’. Ladies toilets are slightly better than average with larger mirror are - this is a requirement as we sometimes need time to reapply after the rain. The Men’s toilets are plentiful but a bit of squeeze; you get quite close to your neighbour but this homoerotic tension is eased by the ‘manly’ Ross O’Carroll Kelly (Southside Legend) extracts from his weekly Sunday Tribune column.

The next disappointment that Club Twentyone offers us is the bars.

There are only two for a venue of 1000 people. In the main circular bar, it’s elbows and fists in the usual scrum to get a drink, while in the lesser known side bar there is civil queuing to get a refreshing beverage or five because that’s how many you’ll get to avoid coming up again. This is no fault of the bar staff, but when busy they could really do with another bar or two.

Club Twentyones’ dancefloor should be a breakdancers dancing paradise, but most likely like us you have never seen this occur. The tyrannical

bouncers put an immediate stop to any fun activities on the dancefloor. They’re especially harsh in respect to having drinks on the dancefloor with a quick pinch on your arm and a guiding hand off the dancefloor.

On the upside, the new name change has seen the knocking down of the dancefloor divide wall that was just pointless. Other “improvements” include the new podiums that allow the ever so prominent B€$$ girl to flaunt her stuff, but then again how often is anyone ever seen in XX1?

We’ve all had a visit or two to the intimate corners back in the day and now they have made life easier on all those who cant afford a taxi for two back to theirs - they now have beds. These beds make the alcoves that bit seedier, and stains have been seen on the tasteful coverings (unlike the acts that occur on them).

They are trying to make it more appealing to us students with a designated student night with drinks allegedly €3, although we’ve all been seduced by similar unfounded promises by these guys before. And now for the part you won’t read….it’s open Monday to

Entry 0/5 – Always expensive, always queues, always raining. We just don’t like queuing there.

Bouncers 0/5 – Overly pushy and not up for the banter Bar Service 2.5/5 – Need more staff and bars Crowd 2/5 – No one ever really goes there, we wonder why?

Scoring ability 3.5/5 – Possible only if its Fresher’s Week and ya wanna get your ‘wink wink’ Music 2/5 – General pop and they never do requests for the ladies Toilets 4/5 - We like their toilets Bar Prices 3/5 - Sometimes cheap imitation drinks, heading in the right direction though with student night.

Smoking Area 1/5 - Pretty appalling but at least you can lick hand stamps so others can at least get in free Beds 4/5 - Where else has nice beds in a nightclub? Stains bring it down a mark though.

OVERALL SCORE = 22/50 A bad place now slightly better but why do societies insist on having nights out here?

16

Bits and Pieces

TNT

What’s burning up the TNT Office this issue... . Kanye West featuring Adam Levine - Heard ‘Em Say It is a measure of how fantastically cool Kanye is that he can take that gimp of a lead singer from Maroon 5, stick him on a record and make it sound this good.

Arctic Monkeys - When the Sun Goes Down Didn’t really get the appeal of ‘Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ but this Streets-soundalike is way better. Funny too.

All Time Love - Will Young Will Young was recently voted Sexiest Male Celebrity by Heat magazine. We can think of no better endorsement.

Separated at Birth

Provost of Trinity College Professor John Hegarty

Fast food mogul Colonel Sanders from KFC

One is an iconic white-bearded marketing phenomenon, famed worldwide for taking a second rate chicken joint and cutting costs unrelentently until he had single-handedly transformed it into a world beating corporate empire, capable of churning out thousands of chickens every year, with outlets as far away as India. And the other is... Colonel Sanders!

(Baddum-tcch! Thanks folks, we’re here all year). Yes it’s Professor John Hegarty, Provost and Colonel Harland Sanders, Legend. Both ruthless businessmen, hell bent on ensuring their legacy to their organisation with little regard for those who dare to cross their path on their road to glory, whether it’s millions of chickens coated in the special sauce or most of the Trinity Economics department. Both men are also proud purveyors of the oddest beards we’ve seen since well, puberty. Gentlemen, we salute you.

Psst...

Although candidates haven’t even been officially announced yet, one of the runners in the Presidential race has been talking about how he’s just in it for his CV and figures he’s going to get a decent job out of it. (And yes, we know this could

apply to other candidates, but it’s rare to hear someone being so open about it).

Unfortunately, those in the know don’t rate his chances at all - looks like he may be looking for that job sooner than he thinks...

Hot hot heat ‘Anchorman’ quiz in the Buttery last week Whammy! The cult following of the legend that is Ron Burgundy saw a packed Buttery for this quiz. More please

It’s time for...

Utterly Useless Facts of the Week!

The cafe in Habitat

1. Tom Dillon,the Deputy Pres of the SU has given blood (his own, we presume) so many times that the next time he does, they’re actually going to give him a gold pin for doing it. Makes us all feel a bit guilty here.

Facebook vs Bebo

2. There’s a holy well under the Nassau Street entrance to college called St. Patrick’s Well 3. The human brain continues sending out electrical wave signals for up to 37 hours after death 4. All mammals have tongues

For a tenner you can get some seriously excellent food. We recommend the chicken caesar thing

Which is better? Rate your own popularity (or lack of)

Damien Dempsey playing the Buttery Damo always puts on excellent live shows. Go early to get a seat

New series of Desperate Housewives Now that the novelty’s worn off it’s become sadly clear how ungood it is

Business students Dull capitalists who speak in that ridiculously off-putting management speak. And we’re not just jealous cos they’re going to make more money than us.

5. Alfred Hitchcock didn’t have a belly button

Rugby losses

6. A guidedog can’t tell a green light from a red one. It watches the traffic to know when it is safe to lead it’s master across.

The rugby first XV’s performance in the All-Ireland league this season. Sorry boys, we know you’re trying but come on, one win?!

No heating in House 6 Clarification: In the last edition of TNT, there was a reference to Fair City in the article ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ on the Fashion page. This comment was added in at the editorial stage and was not that of the article’s author.

Apologies for any offence this may have caused

Seriously, we’re freezing our asses off here.

Ice ice baby