Alexia Blogs

Marta and I headed off to see KT Tunstall and Damien Rice last night at the Bud gig in Marley. We recorded some videos, but I’m having a few problems uploading them to the web.

Tunstall was a ballsy performer with plenty of soul. She bounced around the stage and the crowd joined in. Her interludes were honest and hearty. Given that I had no preconceptions, I liked her lot.

I’m not a Damien Rice fan by any means. I tend to find his music on the wrong side of depressing with a good dash of navel-gazing. He was okay. He called old band-mates Tommo and Lisa Hannigan, leaving them voicemails of the screaming crowd.

He finished the gig, by inviting the Guillemots and Fionn Regan onto the stage for a sing-song. Rice apedthe traditional view of French cabaret by slurping on a glass of vino?while whaling languishly and with abandonment into the microphone. Too much posing for my taste and not my cup of tea.

Here are a few pics that I took last night.

KT Tunstall

Damien Rice at twilight

In the dark, Damien Rice

This post is dedicated to a girl we saw dancing in D|Two last night. Gold waist-coated girl, this one is for you.

After a pleasant dinner at Wagamama and some drinks at The Village, we decided to make the ten minute walk to D|Two. D|Two is a strange establishment. It’s not a dance dictatorship. It’s slightly shabby, but we frequent it as it’s Southside, so handy to walk home from. Plus, the crowd is fairly mixed, people of all ages and persuasions. I even wandered across some people signing.

In a nightclub, some people like to dance. Others to watch. The meat-market economics of nightclubs is always the source of endless fascination to me. I’m a professional Taxomonist. Nine times out of ten, nightclubbers fall into the following categories: men oogle, women dance.

Last night Em, Kitty and I came across an examplar of my categorisation. Girl in a gold waistcoat. I don’t pretend to be an expert in the art of lap dancing, but I’ve seen Striptease at least twice. She certainly had Demi’s moves. I don’t know if that makes her a good Striptease Demi impersonator or a bad lap-dancer. Six of one or half dozen of another.

Perched at the edge of dance floor, she slinked about with more than a come hither air. She was surrounded by a vacuum of open-mouthed male admirers. You know the sort. Slightly tipsy, and all too sweaty. Like disapproving wives, the girls and I looked on. We left our vantage point for a few dances. From the dance floor, we saw her kiss a guy and disappear into the darkness. Her admirers were left cold, even the security staff came over to sympathize after their loss.

In a certain way, this display disappointed me. I’m not a prude in any sense, but I felt sorry for the dancer. I’m not one to tell people what to do, but I couldn’t help but empathise. Sure, she had her catch of the night, but what’s perpertual morning after like for her. How does she feel when she is alone? Does she do this every Saturday night? Has she thought about sexually transmitted diseases?

This is not necessarily a female-only phenomenon. Okay, we don’t see guys dance seductively in nightclubs, but the instinct to opt for easy gratification is all around. Easy cars, easy houses, easy credit, easy sex. I’m not going to David-McWilliams-this to death. It’s not just about the rise in liquidity and decline of the Catholic Church. It’s about the burgeoning maturity that we as Irish people are struggling to understand and practise. A nation of thirteen year olds, we bounce from one sensory impulse to next to rebalence our headlong fall into a consumption spiral. Where does it all end? Foreclosures and Debt? AIDs and Death?

Even the best laid plans go to waste. On my way to the last night’s Tweetup, all I could think was … I’m late, I’m late, I’m very, very late. We’re showing a room in our house to prospective lodgers, and of course, despite all of their promises of turning up to view the room - we got zero viewers. I hate waiting. Even more than that, I hate waiting for Godot.

In a fluster, I commandeered a taxi in the village and with a Ho!, we scampered into town. By the time I got into La Taverna, the Dublin Tweetup proto-group had comfortably ensconced itself into the downstairs. Eamon, Mary Rose, Elly, Olivier. With the addition of me to the mix, for a brief moment, the Dublin Tweetup was a female-dominated event - 3:2. Unusual for a blogging event, I know! We had a little bread, wine and anti-pasti. Eoghan, Gareth, Brian and friend soon followed. We pushed a couple of tables together and had a good set down.

What I found really interesting is that many of last night’s attendees knew each other from previous existences: BarCamp, Irish Blog awards or Open Coffee Club Dublin. These links provided for ideal conversation nooks - Irish web community, politics, consoles, broadband and the wider blogging community.

Despite being tagged as the noisiest Twit in Ireland, I prefer to sit back and listen to passionate conversation. It was almost like a TwitterStorm. Two-by-two discussions meandered, broke off and rejoined then communal comm stream.

I know that there was some chat on whether we should vidcast the Tweetup live. I don?t believe that this would add any value to the experience. I can understand the value of broadcasting events that are used as vehicles to honour bloggers such as the Irish Blog awards. What benefit to broadcast a group of tech-focussed micro-bloggers. I also believe this would stifle the free-flow of conversation and could foster grandstanding (all present member excepted, of course).

After consuming a clutch of wine bottles, La Taverna declined our polite requests for more wine. So ended the first Dublin Tweetup. The main body of the group evaporated into the night, sounds of Tweetup convo ringing in their ears. Eoghan, Olivier, Elly and I found shelter in The Porter House until 2am. We hashed over the night’s proceedings before using Elly’s patented Taxi-Gettingology methods.

Tonight’s Tweetup confirmed my faith in micro-blogging. It isn?t simply a comm stream. It’s a constant conversation where we challenge each other, bitch, rant, defend, inspire, encourage and comfort each other.

I?m really looking forward to the next Tweetup. Olivier, Maryrose and Elly have blogged about last night’s Tweetup.

I?m going to write a full length post tomorrow, but here?s my just-in-the-door-Charlie-Bird-impression. Tonight?s Dublin Tweetup was a huge success. What started as a ?what if? conversation just two weeks ago with Olivier at the Open Coffee Club Dublin turned into a reality tonight, our pumpkin Irish Twitter collective turned into a horse-drawn carriage. It was fantastic.

To be honest, to start with, I was a little nervous. Sending sub-140 character Tweets with complete strangers is a different ball game to sitting around a table with a couple of bottles of wine swapping Winerisms. After a couple of glasses, everyone relaxed. Twitter users there included @ellybabes, @maryrose, @eoghanmccabe, @ozone, @eamonleonard, @dbspin (with a non-Twitter friend), (with two non-Twitter friends) @bfitzsimons (newly joined Twitter friend) and @me. Did I miss anyone? Shout now or forever hold your peace.

We had some bread, cheese, reconstituted salami-type meat products and a good few glasses of wine. Even a bottle of oil was knocked over. And I played with my knive.:) Lots of chatter over Irish internet community, Dave Winer (spam or Twitterhoea), today?s OCC Dublin, kids and jobs. The normal run-of-mill chatter to accompany a bright and breezy August eve.

Limerick (my home city) may hold it?s head high with the first Irish OCC UStream broadcast, Cork with it?s frequent tech talks but Dublin should be incredibly proud that it was the first Irish Twitter community to hold a social meet.?

Irish TwitHead Class Photo 1932

So, at the last Dublin OCC after enjoying all of the shop talk, Olivier and I agreed that organising a small Tweetup of Dublin Twitter users would be a great idea. We were enthused by the lively conversation of OCC contributers and excited at the prospect of being able to meet some of the interesting voices of Irish Twitheads we hear (or rather read) on a daily basis.

The Irish web habitat is very small indeed and the more avenues open to the free exchange of ideas from fresh voices, the better.

At first, ever the pragmatist, I suggest McD?s but Olivier?s fine tastes won out Anyway, Olivier is organising the logistics of the Tweetup at La Taverna di Bacco, Ormond Quay. The atmosphere will be informal and you don?t need to be a technologist to come along, just a TwitHead. Don?t be scared either, we are really very nice?

Both Facebook and Twitter are effectively down this evening causing social networking junkies to run screaming into the long grasses. With respect to Twitter, its been over an hour without a tweet from my contacts and now I see is Mr Mulley griping over Facebook going down.

What’s up? So now, we actually have to interact with people around us instead of our online ones? EEkk!

EDIT: Conor, James, Bernie and I have sequestered ourselves into the safe arms of Jaiku.

EDIT2: After almost 2 hours, Twitter and Facebook got back to normal. Unsubstantiated rumours abound that there was a sync between the two.

Shannon, Shannon - what to do? Shannon Airport management should get up, dust themselves off and do something proactive on the REAL problem at hand and stop whinging over spilt milk. The real challenge Shannon must meet is the competitiveness of it?s airport offering.

I find it incomprehensible that the Powers That Be in Shannon Airport didn’t forsee Aer Lingus’ decision to move the Heathrow route to Belfast. Once Aer Lingus moved from being a wholely state run operation to a privately managed enterprise, all bets were off with respect to Aer Lingus commitment to Shannon or indeed, any airport it serves. Aer Lingus, just like any other private enterprise exists to satisfy the majority of it’s shareholders. I point out majority as moves to reverse the management decision would have to come from the share-holding grassroots and not just the Government.

Aer Lingus?didn?t decide?to move to Belfast for?just the scenery (which, I?m sure is very nice), but rather it saw that it could make bags more more money that way, despite competition from easyJet and BMI Baby.

So, what did Shannon Airport do? In an almost apologetic statement, they said that they could offer Aer Lingus a package that could shave 4 million of their costs annually. Aer Lingus management curtly refused this sweetener, committing itself to Belfast. apostrophe

Hand-wringing aside, this move accounts to a slap in the face to operators already flying into Shannon. What about them? Could this kick off a low-bidding war that will squeeze the financials of the airport? What would happen if Delta and other operators decided that they wanted to play hard ball too?

By taking a reactive role, Shannon Airport is letting airlines dictate the success of their business. Where has the inventive spark gone? How can small regional airports drum up business from European regional airlines so successfully, all while Shannon is always the bridesmaid and never the bride?

Shannon Airport, the Mid-West needs strong airline links. It’s in interests of your financial wellbeing and the region’s economic health to build and maintain them. So, get off you asses - cut prices, advertise and get Glenda Gilson to drap herself over the industrial seating in the Departures lounge!