Andrew Clarke
@andclarke
Precarious, work-hungry academic. PhD from Maynooth University exploring hybridity, ambiguity and uncertainty in Teju Cole's intermedial body of work
Stills from a video of a steward and ball boy reacting along with the crowd as Ross Tierney’s last minute screamer wins the match for Bohs last night. Football is unmatched for split-second transitions from agony to pure joy.
Alan Cawley clearly using his RTÉ punditry gig as a stepping stone to a supporting role in the next Alan Partridge movie
A devastating result for the Japanese people. I hope they can take some solace from their efficient healthcare system, superior public transport infrastructure, and peerless away jersey.
My beloved Biscuit went to the other side on Friday. I feel his absence on my chest, where he spent the best part of his seventeen years, and I am stretching the consolatory limits of photographs. A friend beyond measure.
Hi Sam, those minutes are essentially redundant now because they were just pre by-election promises that have amounted to nothing. The attached pictures are the latest correspondence from DCC, sent to Stoneybatter homes, essentially saying they’re going ahead as planned with wheelie bins.
I’m milling through this ludicrously-priced yuzu soda in this weather. You may have saved me a fortune, thank you.
It would appear we both speak Portuguese now. Bom! Regarding Bohs, I think if we don’t win at least one of those bank holiday weekend games the Reynolds out calls with be deafening in Dalymount.
The details of the Irish census of 1926 show that the breadwinner in my house that year was a ‘Biscuit Operator.’ Since 2012, the house has been operated by a cat named Biscuit.
Helpfully, Holly P, who you might remember as one of the Greystones bunch, sent me this photo of our final day of school recently. Not a flattering picture, but I’m second from right.
Full text of an Instagram post tonight from the ever-heroic Muslim Sisters of Éire, whose experience of racist abuse whilst feeding the homeless people of Dublin tonight just goes to prove the fascist forces that are driving Ireland’s “fuel protests.”
The fuel protest convoy passing through Dublin as my dog rhythmically scratches himself is forming the kind of ambient music I’d probably spend a lot of money to watch in some hall
In a time of oil crisis, it’s worth noting that Google Maps will default to suggesting you go thundering down the motorway, in a journey of over twice the distance necessary, to save 4 minutes.
Reading the third book of Solvej Balle’s On the Calculation of Volume, many hours into a spell in A & E, waiting for my wife to be tended to for her acute diverticulitis. Have never identified more with the concept of being trapped in a time loop.
Your post landed amidst a flurry of other, entirely unrelated, posts about berets on my timeline.
This guy has been in all kinds of shows and movies I’ve watched over the past couple of decades. He has looked 57 in all of them and is always perfectly competent, and exactly the same. I remember actor’s names but I don’t think I’ve ever known his and I don’t care to learn it.