Thursday 13 December 2018

Ian O'Doherty: Um, a slight flaw in that thesis...

Former Hot Press journalist Declan Lynch has a new book out about the Charlton years, and it has certainly created something of a stir.

But not everyone is impressed with it.

According to the review of the book by hack Eamon Gibson, which appeared in this very newspaper last Saturday: "How can anyone so immersed in music be a genuine soccer supporter?

"You must choose one over the other at some stage and I get the distinct impression if forced to choose between an Ireland soccer international and a Pogues concert, Shane MacGowan would win hands down with Lynch."

Now, we're always told that men can't multi-task, but as a junior contemporary of Lynch at Hot Press during that period I can certainly assure the reviewer that football, particular our on-pitch exploits with Hot Press Monchengladbach, occupied as much of our time as the latest Pixies album.

But the review does pose one interesting question -- how can anyone who refers to the sport as 'soccer' rather than its correct term, 'football', feel qualified to write on the subject in the first place?

Honestly, we're not Americans, you know.


As we continue our heroic fight against the war on terror, we need strong, tough, dedicated soldiers.

Let's be honest, we need someone who is prepared to stir things up, to get the job done, to break some rules and cut some corners. We need Jack Bauer.

What we don't need is someone like British soldier Tilern DeBique who is looking at a cool hundred grand from the army.

Did they leave her unprotected in Helmand Province?

Was she tortured, a la Spooks, by al-Qaeda?

No, she is suing because the army tried to discipline her for going AWOL when she was meant to be on duty.

But she couldn't be on duty, she claims, because she was looking after her child.

The army said that wasn't really a good excuse for deserting your post, but now a tribunal has found in her favour and have cited "loss of earnings, injury to feelings and aggravated damages."

And, inevitably, because she is black, they also threw racial discrimination into the pot.

Honestly -- as the phrase goes, Jack Bauer wouldn't stand for this shit.


You know what? Blind people are people too.

You might not think it, but they have feelings and needs and desires like the rest of us.

So they will be delighted to hear the news that the world's first braille porno for blind people is being launched this week.

According to reports: "Among the 17 raised images include a naked woman in a 'disco pose', a woman with 'perfect breasts' and a 'male love robot'."

Honestly, we should be encouraging blind people to be more morally upright than the rest of us and, really, how long will it be before conservative blind people start to campaign against this sort of filth?

It'll certainly make for an interesting debate.

*Attention sub editors, for the love of God will you make sure this doesn't make it into the braille version of the Indo, they still haven't forgiven me for that crack I made about the movie 'Blindness.' Cheers, Ian

Couch Potato

Heard the one about the American fighter pilot who steals a Russian superjet and uses his mind to control it? Well, if you haven't you need to head down to your nearest store and pick up a copy of the cult 1982 classic, Firefox.

Clint Eastwood is the Russian-speaking Yank who smuggles himself into Russia, eventually steals the plane and uses his Russian language skills to mentally communicate with the fighter's control system.

The idea's not as daft as it sounds, if reports of new military technology are to be believed, but either way, Firefox remains a hugely entertaining flick.

Sample quote: "Really? Then what was all that coded stuff we intercepted between Bilyarsk and the fire chain stations? They got him, Aubrey! They blew his ass right out of the sky!"


He writes consistently hilarious novels about the vagaries of life in Florida, but Carl Hiaasen is still a working journalist and his non-fiction book, Team Rodent: How Disney Devoured The World is a truly brilliant piece of reportage. Exploring the unbelievably seedy underbelly of a supposedly family-friendly company, you'll never go to Disneyland again after reading this.

Irish Independent