I first wrote this back in 2010. I have reposted it for our Irish Heritage Month – BloodSpite
Without a doubt this is my most favored Irish song. It’s not really traditional, having been written in the late 1970’s.
However, the story behind is as saddening as the lyrics.
More after the Jump
On more than one occasion I’m asked how I can work in IT and want a home that is off grid, why do I not have Netflix, Hulu, etc. Why I don’t move where internet is faster, better, more reliable, with more data. Why I don’t have the latest geek gizmo, or smart phone. Why do I still blog on my old desk top PC.
The simple answer is IT is where I work as I have too much vested in it over the years to change. However, now I live to work, not work to live and I don’t have to take part in the system anymore if I don’t want too and I don’t.
I’m tired of instant video. I’m tired of instant access. Tired of the constant barrage of advertisements at my gas pump, at the check out line. I’m tired of folks using my purchase history to try to sell me something else via my Email. I’m tired of being pushed to buy something 24/7. Tired of hearing what the Kardashians did this week, what Beiber did last night, and what Hillary is doing tomorrow. I don’t care whose phone was hacked anymore. I’m tired of hearing about government officials who stay out of jail after breaking laws that you and I would never see daylight again.
I’m just tired. Of all of it.
Compose an experiment design for the hypothesis you selected for your chosen data set. In your response, address all the factors that potentially jeopardize the validity of your design. Describe the methods, variables, and measures of control as well as the corresponding research statistics that will be employed. Address each design component in 1–2 separate paragraphs
What the actual hell.
I often question my decision to continue my education past my masters degree. I often wonder if I am just a glutton for punishment, am secretly a masochist, or just feel like I need to experience some cerebral variety of self flagellation. Eric never gets this type of thing in his classes.
Today is especially one of those days. I literally look at this assignment and I am asking myself
“What the flying tee total hell does this even mean?!”
Oh and I have to figure it out by Wednesday. No pressure.
(I first posted this on March 10, 2007 at Techography.com it has been reprinted here for posterity and your enjoyment)
The Orangemen are a peculiar amalgam of history, anger, controversy, patriotism, and pain.
It was founded in the same County that my own family heralds from…Armagh. Given Armagh’s heritage with apple’s it’s no surprise that we settled in Ellijay then, the Apple Capital of Georgia. The Orange Order is a Protestant fraternal organization based predominantly in Northern Ireland and Scotland with lodges throughout the Commonwealth, Canada and in the United States.
I first published this at Techography on March 17, 2007. I’ve reposted it here for posterity and your reading pleasure!- BS
I, Patrick, a sinner, a most simple countryman, the least of all the faithful and most contemptible to many, had for father the deacon Calpurnius, son of the late Potitus, a priest, of the settlement [vicus] of Bannavem Taburniae; he had a small villa nearby where I was taken captive. I was at that time about sixteen years of age. I did not, indeed, know the true God; and I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people, according to our deserts, for quite drawn away from God, we did not keep his precepts, nor were we obedient to our priests who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought down on us the fury of his being and scattered us among many nations, even to the ends of the earth, where I, in my smallness, am now to be found among foreigners.
St. Patrick, The Confessio
The person who was to become St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was born in Wales about AD 385. His given name was Maewyn Succat, and he almost didn’t get the job of bishop of Ireland because he lacked the required scholarship.
Far from being a saint, until he was 16, he considered himself a pagan. At that age, he was sold into slavery by a group of Irish marauders that raided his village. During his captivity, he became closer to God.
So I have been experimenting with Tumblr for a little while now. For fun I have added a widget off to the right, as you may be able to see, which will not only show you my Tumblr activity but if you click it will take you to my Tumblr site.
I confess to finding it mildly entertaining. The bigger facet it is it is simple easier to share pictures via that system than it is this one. That doesn’t mean I will stop putting pictures here.
Rather it means my more random, day-to-day picture taking will like end up there, while my written visualizations and etc will continue to be here.
All clear as mud I am sure. Meanwhile feel free to check it it out at The Prodigal Stranger.
On Easter Monday, shortly after noon, Patrick Pearse and a band of ill armed and ill prepared poets and romantic patriots rose in rebellion took control of the General Post Office incentral Dublin and several other strategic sites around the city. The Irish Republic was proclaimed in Dublin, and the insurgent Tricolour suddenly broke upon startled eyes flying from the flagstaff above the General Post Office in the very heart of the Irish capital.
Editors Note: I wrote this December 2010. As its a current Irish affair laced with some history I felt it could use another look this month. Enjoy!
There just isn’t a better way of me saying that.
What? Is it friggin’ 1860 again?
We have Hispanics of multiple origins pouring over our southern border that our current Administration refuses to secure and furthermore refuses to address (save for amnesty). The vast majority of them are not contributing to our economy, in fact they are draining it quickly. $65 Million dollars...in just one state!
But if your from Mexico, China or India the doors open! Never mind the fact that Ireland’s migrants have just as much education or experience….the short version is: they are the wrong colour. If your from one of those countries this is a great program, and I applaud the ideal of making it easier to get in to the country legally. However setting a standard as to who should go is not a standard of equality.
Reverse discrimination against the Irish, twice now , has never been so disgustingly blatant. In a age when Democrats are constantly repeating how wonderful immigrants are and how necessary they are to our culture, it apparently only applies to certain immigrants from specific places.
Now they simply say “No Irish are Welcome here.”
The Irish have already proven themselves in this country, we have done our time and our hardships. The railroads that criss cross the nation were built on Irish backs, with Irish labour.
Unfortunately the same folks who declared immigration necessary are freezing out a proven group of workers, and opening the flood gates to a group that wants a free ride…versus one that has paid its dues. Again great program from one of those countries, everyone else who is affected though? Not so much.
There is no justification for this. I am not racist, I have friends of many cultures, and have been to many countries. But this ruling is not just a travesty of human rights, and an assault to basic human respect it’s a sham and a obvious ploy to buy votes by an Administration that is desperate to receive any support it can get even if it means buying those votes through back door legislation.
This action is in a word: disgusting.
This is the third time we have placed such a stranglehold on the Irish community. First in the 1860’s, again in the 1960’s and again now. Furthermore here’s a jaw dropper: The number of people who will emigrate from Ireland in 2010 and 2011 will add up to 120,000. And as the business editor of the Irish Independent pointed out last week, that is the figure given by the last census for the population of Cork City. Compare that to the estimated 10 Million illegal immigrants in the country currently.
Making it harder for a group who is willing to come here legally, is counter to any sane immigration program.
Want to make a difference?
Legalize the Irish. Contact your elective representative. Sanity needs to be restored.
This one is a fairly new one, as it was just written in 2010. As with our other March stories we thought we’d share it once again! – BS 2013 UPDATE: Video corrected
Irish history is more than just words on paper. Like so many civilizations past we tend to put our stories, our mythos in to song.
Many have heard the songs of Ireland and found them any array of reactions from distinctive, to beautiful, to addictive. Music is not merely a form of expression for the Irish. It’s a way of reliving our past, and it is probably one of the few mediums in which blood has not been shade amongst ourselves.
The son of the god Lugh and Deichtine, Cú Chulainn was originally named Sétanta . He gained his better-known name, Cú Chulainn, as a child after he killed Culann’s fierce guard-dog in self-defense, and offered to take its place until a replacement could be reared.
This is a story oft told me as a young lad
More on Cú Chulainn after the jump
I originally wrote this in 2010 here. While I try not to add anything to my original posts when I re-post them I do try to correct spelling, punctuation, etc. I also have a bad habit of adding new pictures upon occassion. Otherwise you should find little, to no differences between the reposted material, and the original. – BloodSpiteDanny Boy is one of over 100 songs composed to the same tune.
The author was an English lawyer, Frederic Edward Weatherly (1848-1929), who was also a songwriter and radio entertainer. In 1910 he wrote the words and music for an unsuccessful song he called Danny Boy. In 1912 his sister-in-law in America sent him a tune called the Londonderry Air, which he had never heard before. He immediately noticed that the melody was perfectly fitted to his Danny Boy lyrics, and published a revised version of the song in 1913. As far as I know, Weatherly never set foot in Ireland.
Read the rest of this entry »
(I first wrote this March of 2011. I’ve reposted it this month for our Irish Heritage celebration. Enjoy! – BS)
It’s been said that we Irish are blessed with the “gift of Blarney” or gift of speech. Which is why we make such great story tellers, writers, authors, poets and actresses.
Renowned for such wit and humor as that which came from the likes of Oscar Wilde, William Butler Yeats and others. For we Irish, words and language are so very important…My grandfather once told me that if a picture is worth 1,000 words then it takes 1,000 words to paint a picture.
But this Irish gift of wit doesn’t come out of thin air, so the legends say, but rather from solid stone!
(I first wrote this March of 2011. I’ve reposted it this month for our Irish Heritage celebration. Enjoy! – BS)
Coffin Ships are a rather sad part of Irish history. Originating during the Great Irish Famine, and of course the prison ships to Botany Bay. The first vessel with Irish convicts for Botany Bay arrived in Port Jackson on 26 September 1791.
They were called “coffin ships,” because so many poor souls had been dying on them as of late, leaving behind widows and orphans and broken families. Typically untrustworthy vessels, these ships were purchased literally from salvage yards (where they awaiting dismantling) by unscrupulous owners who had no intention of repairing them. Sailors who agreed to serve on board these floating wrecks typically knew nothing of the dangers until they were well out at sea, vagabonds, and those desperate for work (of which there were plenty) quickly volunteered.
Concerned only with profits, these same ship owners heavily overburdened the ships then insured them against expected losses of cargo. They were quite literally worth more at the bottom of the sea than upon it.
I originally wrote this in June of 2010. I thought it would be worth while to show how things have changed in the years. There have been developments since this, but all the same it is relevant and worth mentioning I think.
Broken bottles under children’s feet
Bodies strewn across the dead end streets
But I won’t heed the battle call
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
U2, Bloody Sunday
January 30, 1972
The Bogside area of Derry, in Northern Ireland.
On one side over 15,000 civil rights protesters against British rule.
On the other, British Para’s, the cream of the British Army.
In the outcome over 27 people shot, and 14 dead.
This was the time of Troubles in Ireland.
“… it is expedient that a Tribunal be established for inquiring into a definite matter of urgent public importance, namely the events on Sunday 30th January 1972 which led to loss of life in connection with the procession in Londonderry on that day, taking account of any new information relevant to events on that day”
Resolution of the House of Commons, 30th January 1998,
and of the House of Lords, 2nd February 1998
The world has changed since those days. Do not take this apology lightly my peers. Let us not return to those days of Belfast and yon. There need be no violence on this day. The point is made. They have admitted their errs. Use it to your advantage and push, politically, diplomatically for the freedom you have fought for.
But if we’ve learned one thing in these past years, is that bloodshed never washes away bloodshed.
Be better than that.
A tribute to the victims:
Sometimes I have to step back when reading it and read a stanza a second type to comprehend exactly what the author is trying to present, otherwise it comes across as being over the top. But when you give yourself over to actually imagining what he presents it begins to make more sense. The hardest part of these types of readings is approaching it without bias, and with understanding that you aren’t reading War and Peace.
Its not entertainment, in fact in many ways, its self analyzing.
(I first wrote this March of 2012. Each year I try to add at least one new story to my Irish History Celebration posts. I’ve reposted it this month for our Irish Heritage celebration. Enjoy! – BS)
The Famine began quite mysteriously in September 1845 as leaves on potato plants suddenly turned black and curled, then rotted, seemingly the result of a fog that had wafted across the fields of Ireland. I have been told that the cause was actually an airborne fungus originally transported in the holds of ships traveling from North America to England. Somewhat ironic then if you consider how many Irish families in turn fled to North America because of it. Let no one say we Irish have not had a sense of humor in the annuals of history.
In Any event, The Great Famine was a period of mass starvation, disease and emigration between 1845 and 1852. Outside of Ireland it is more commonly called The Irish Potatoe Famine. Within Ireland, and amongst my own family it was referred to as an Gorta Mór or great hunger.
So it’s March, and of course one thing that hasn’t and will likely not change around here is a predominately Irish history focus for the month.
I’ll have all the oldies, and a couple of news ones as always to add to the list.
March is a fun time around the blog, even though this year I a grinding pretty hard on my doctoral thesis.
But you have to cut loose somewhere right? So why not here!
Another by Northwest Arkansas Core Brewing
A lot of lacing, as you can see with a decent head. Unfortunately it doesn’t last long. The grapefruit taste goes over most the other flavors but you still get hints of the citrus/pine of a IPA
Its very tart with some bite after as you would expect from grapefruit.