F. Saunders
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How about having him looking flushed while ogling little boys diving into the canal on a hot summer afternoon
perhapsthe note on the pedestrian crossing should say “if you are reading this you are not looking out for traffic and could be hit at any moment by a large truck”
Imagine if the Egyptian handlers selected a local firm whose brother in law was the museum’s director. The phrases “third world” and “corrupt” would come to mind.
Dubliners may have got the Merrion Square lobbing of bricks and derogatory observations in the direction of brits out of their system when the british embassy was deconstructed after Bloody Sunday.
I suppose there is a grain of truth in the cliche about not having any purely indiginous urban history, but the same could be said about every other post colonial society that do not seem to treat their cities as poorly as the Irish. Actually, it seems our attitude is more like that of the old enemy than we might like to admit. Many UK cities have the same scruffy air of wilful neglect festooned with the debris of alcohol enhanced rampages by the weekend warrior classes.It’ interesting to read the impassioned correspondence regarding the vandalism of fiberglass cows, whether from the knee jerk “it’s society’s fault” on the left to the “let’s have a brazilian solution to an irish problem” on the right. In some ways, it’s heartening that people care so much, in other ways it seems to be a manifestation of the national pastime of navel gazing. As an expat, I am always a little stretched when I return to Dublin and have to explain to my small children why someone might smash a bus shelter or leave rubbish on the street. It is truly one of the dirtiest and bedraggled first world capitals I have ever been to, even with the extraordinary architectural and civic progress of the past ten years.
