Bloom: your day is done!
Darragh McManus is fed up with Groundhog Bloomsday and proposes some alternative heroes
James Joyce was said to have once written, "How sick, sick, sick I am of Dublin!" - and as yet another Bloomsday celebration rolls around, I'm beginning to sympathise.
Every year it's the same thing, with the same tedious old duffers and pretentious pseuds traipsing around the same haunts from Ulysses, eating the same disgusting mess of giblet soup and liver slices, and reciting the same incomprehensible passages from a book they're about as likely to ever finish reading as a bonobo ape.