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We should shift St Patrick's Day festivities to summer

EVERY year, we hear the same complaints about St Patrick's Day and how our festival is not as massive or amazing as Mardi Gras or Carnival or the Fourth of July or any of the other festivals that theoretically show us up.

This is, of course, arse. There's nothing wrong with our festival or parade.

Hell, last year a two-storey woolly jumper walked down O'Connell Street, which would be a high point if it happened on any thoroughfare anywhere on the planet.

The root cause of the problems with our festival can be blamed on the people who are easiest to blame for almost anything – the Catholic Church (and maybe the Anglicans a bit, but there's not so many of them, so let's stick with the Catholics).

The Catholic Church got to choose the date for St Patrick's Day. And clearly either God or the hierarchy is against us because they chose March.

No one who loved Ireland would force us to celebrate anything in March. March is poxy. It's worse than January.

At least in January you know it'll be freezing and raining sideways, but March is a lying scumbag, providing you with just enough sun to leave your coat at home then dropping the temperature 20 degrees and raining so much your shoes leak. March sucks.

March is why we drink. Even if it's sunny, we (often correctly) think "can't trust that duplicitous git, March" and opt to stay inside, where boredom leads to alcohol.

If we had Patrick's Day in August, we'd be grand – 23.5 hours of daylight, buckets of tourists, a bit of time off and a fair chance of a bit of sun and, even if it rains, it doesn't matter so much because at least you know August does its best. August tries. August wants to deliver. Not like that hoor March. So rather than giving out about some of the church's prior transgressions (Irish dancing and the rhythm method spring to mind), we should just ask for one simple thing to wipe the slate clean – move our saint's day to mid-summer.

Then we can hold our (slightly tipsy) heads high when compared to those Yanks and Brazilians.


A tape of Justin Bieber being deposed by a lawyer was leaked to TMZ this week.

The muppet was giving evidence in advance of his trial for allegedly ordering his bodyguard to hit a photographer.

In the tape he argues with the lawyer in such a snotty and bumbling manner that you'd think he was taking part in a new infant's game called My First Argument.

Three minutes into watching this child preen, wink and grin at the camera while saying things like "I don't know if I've been to Australia. Have I been to Australia?", Gandhi would be abandoning non-violence and slapping Bieber on the back of the head.

The only thing that makes up for the annoyance and frustration of watching the video of this toddler behaving in this way is a moment of pure, golden irony. When asked if the singer Usher had been "instrumental in starting Bieber's career", the little eejit had the cheek to try to be clever.

His response: "I was detrimental to my own career." We can only hope he's right.


ECONOMIST Morgan Kelly accurately predicted the scale of the property crash. He also inaccurately predicted a national bankruptcy.

He is therefore human, and like everyone else gets stuff wrong occasionally.

Yet this week the national media reacted to his latest predictions about SMEs like they were the direct speech of God.

Surely the lesson we should have learnt from 2008 is that we should think for ourselves?

Take the views of Kelly and John Fitzgerald and the Central Bank and the OECD and the ESRI and everyone else, have a think and then decide what we believe.

I'm sure even Morgan Kelly doesn't listen exclusively to Morgan Kelly.


IT was reported this week that Lindsay Lohan says she slept with Colin Farrell. Given how wild Colin went during his bad-boy years, it probably came as news to him as well as the rest of us.