Cassandra Voices

Author: frankarmstrong

  • Irish Government Requires Additional Insights

    On April 28th Fintan O’Toole brought a telling revelation to light in an article entitled, ‘Government ditched its own plan during this crisis’. He claimed that ‘Within the nexus of experts engaged in the management of the crisis, there are increasing concerns about the systems part of the operation’

    He then revealed that:

    the Government has a very well thought through system for managing emergencies – but it more or less completely ignores it … There are reasons why the Government missed the huge part of the crisis that was unfolding in nursing homes and residential institutions. One of them is the tunnel-vision that results from a top-down, command-and-control approach that is utterly at odds with what is supposed to be State policy

    O’Toole refers to a 60-page document called ‘Strategic Emergency Management: National Structures and Frameworks’, which specifically envisages ‘the potential widespread spread of a pandemic’.

    When Covid-19 cases began to multiply, however, ‘it was shoved in a drawer.’ ‘Power instead was taken over by the Taoiseach’s department and information was fed into it, primarily by a single body of experts, the National Public Health Emergency Team [NPHET]’, which ‘lacked voices from the nursing home sector.’

    The mistakes that were made at the height of the pandemic in March/April, when sick patients were returned to care homes may be traced to defective leadership structures, but at this stage there is little value in pointing the finger of blame, as we may assume that individuals were acting to the best of their abilities under enormous pressure, as epidemiological assessments were projecting a far worse death toll than was ultimately the case.

    But structural problems remain in the organisation. It is high time we re-examined how the government is being advised to bring the population to the promised land of ‘living with the virus.’ At this stage other forms of advice should be sought. Presumably the government is already receiving significant inputs from the business sector, but other important viewpoints are not part of the conversation.

    Varadkar’s Comments

    In what was a stark reversal of the situtation in late April when Dr Tony Holohan when asked about possible easing of restrictions replied, “I haven’t made up my mind,” the now Tánaiste Leo Varadkar identified a growing cleavage in Irish society between the private and public sectors on Claire Byrne Live. He commented that the pay packets of those on NEPHT (and his own) would not be affected by further restrictions and that cabinet would be the ones making any decisions on imposing further restrictions.

    That such a provocative comment, which perhaps only “Dr” Varadkar – whose background as a doctor was generally perceived as advantageous at the height of the crisis – could have been aimed against the doctor-in-chief in NPHET, which although composed primarily of civil servants, rather than doctors or scientists, nonetheless appears to have a higher standing in the eyes of the public than government Ministers.

    In fact, it might be expected that an expert grouping would see it as their responsibility to put forward a variety of courses of action as opposed to plumping for one, leaving it to the government to weigh the total implications of the various options.

    With case numbers – blunt statistics which have assumed a frightening importance – not reaching the stratospheric levels that some were predicting earlier this week, the government’s gamble to take a less draconian approach, which is more in line with Ireland’s European partners, may just be paying off. Also, Varadkar’s suggestion that the number of hospital admissions, especially requiring ICU, and mortalities, will become the guiding indicators may also signal a change in the way in which State will be contending with the virus in future.

    Varadkar’s comments, along with Fintan O’Toole’s earlier insights, may also highlight a broader problem, as to whether a body with the composition of NPHET can, in coping with an emergency, be prone to an element of ‘groupthink,’ such as we have witnessed in the past in controversial situations in Irish public life, notably the Bank Bailout in 2008.

    Advisory Groups

    HIQA, for its part, established a COVID-19 Expert Advisory Group on September 29th to support an evidence-based response to COVID-19, under the chairmanship of Cillian de Gascun. This includes what appear to be most of the leading scientists in the country, who will have insights on the virus itself.

    There is also an EAG Research Subgroup the members of which are:

    Prof. Colm Bergin (Co-Chair), Consultant Infectious Diseases, St. James’s Hospital and Professor of Medicine, Trinity College Dublin
    Prof.Cliona O’Farrelly (Co-Chair), Professor Comparative Immunology, Biochemistry, Trinity College Dublin
    Dr Teresa Maguire, Head of Research Services and Policy Unit, Department of Health
    Dr Siobhán O’Sullivan, Chief Bioethics Officer, Department of Health
    Dr Mairéad O’Driscoll, Director of Research Strategy and Funding, Health Research Board
    Dr Mark Ferguson, Director General, Science Foundation Ireland
    Prof.Stephen Kinsella, Associate Professor of Economics, University College Limerick
    Prof.Orla Feely Vice President for Research, Innovation and Impact University College Dublin
    Prof.Ivan Perry, Professor of Public Health, University College Cork
    Dr Ana Terres, Head of Research and Development, HSE
    Dr Sarah Gibney Senior Researcher, Research Services and Policy Unit and IGEES, Department of Health (replaced by Peter Doherty, Research Servicesand Policy Unit, Department of Health)

    Again this contains a significant number of civil servant administrators and a single individual from a non-scientific discipline, tellingly perhaps, economics.

    Guiding Philosophy

    It is hardly surprising that the Government has looked to administrators and academic scientists to guide it through this crisis. There must be some concern, however, that apart from economic cleavages between the private and public sector a scientific or technocratic background will not necessarily equip an individual to weigh up choices with profound ethical implications, affecting all strata of an increasingly diverse Irish society.

    In contrast in Sweden, where the effectiveness of government messaging in the absence of draconian measures has been roundly praised – even by those critical of an unwillingness to impose a lockdown – philosophers have been advising the government from the outset. Problematic policy choices and ethical dilemmas are faced and addressed.

    Notably, the National Board of Health and Welfare, one of Sweden’s main agencies for handling the COVID-19 pandemic brought in philosophers to design guidelines for priority-setting in medical care. The work was led by philosopher Lars Sandman, director of the Centre for Healthcare Priority Setting and a professor of healthcare ethics at Linköping University.

    Sandman said:

    In Sweden we are not allowed to take chronological age into account, but biological age—so the main thrust of the guidelines is how to interpret biological age in this situation—and we interpret it as covering both probability to survive the treatment and life-expectancy in terms of years. Hence, we propose that if doctors and other healthcare providers have to choose between helping patients with the same probability to survive but different life-expectancies, they should choose to help the patient with more years left. In relation to the ethical principles in the platform this is a somewhat new interpretation or clarification that has never been explicitly done before.

    These, we may assume, are the kind of ethical choices that NPHET and the medical establishment faced at the height of the pandemic, but behind closed doors. Perhaps a different philosophical approach would be to the fore in Ireland, with greater emphasis on preservation of life as opposed to overall public health. But it would surely have been beneficial for NPHET to have had recourse to the intellectual clarity provided by professional philosophers, and for there to be greater transparency around this decision-making.

    The Aosdána

    Moreover, as we build towards ‘living with the virus’ it is worth considering other forms of expertise. Harking back to Ancient Ireland we might consider a new role for the Aosdána (áes dána, ‘people of the gift’). These were the skilled men of early Irish society, whose hereditary or demonstrated skills were in law, medicine, history, music, masonry, carpentry, metalwork – but primarily in poetic composition. The recovery of public art in Ireland is not an idle concern. Artists may prove to be healers, as we navigate these choppy waters.

    An obvious body to consult already in existence is the Aosdána, an association of artists created in 1981 and supported by the Arts Council of Ireland. The Aosdána could select from its members individuals to represent artistic creation in Ireland, which is essential to nurture during this global crisis.

    There has to be a concern that a body constituted such as NPHET is associated with what Iain McGilchrist might describe as ‘left-brained’ thinking, a tendency which is often associated with those heavily specialized in their chosen fields. Indeed, their very expertise may leave them less resourced to offer a broader wisdom enabling us to answer the hard question: yes, but what are we to do in the here and now?

  • Covid-19: What is in a Name?

    In Plato’s dialogue ‘Cratylus,’ Socrates and his friends Cratylus and Hermogenes discuss the issue of how phenomena are named. At the heart of the discussion lies the question of whether names have a natural relationship with the things they signify; or is this a random exercise, determined by custom, and are these names therefore mutable? So could the name ‘table’ simply be adjusted to ‘elbat’ by government decree?

    Many years ago I listened to the legendary publisher John Calder (of Calder and Boyars) at an afternoon session in Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. By that time he had published approximately fifteen Nobel Prize winning authors, including Samuel Beckett. He mused on how fifteen years had passed since the first of Beckett’s publications and his rise to becoming ‘a household name,’ after winning the Nobel Prize for literature in 1969. Ideas are not grasped overnight, they take time, John Calder observed.

    Socrates, Cratylus and Hermogenes might well stand a better chance of grasping the nature of the current pandemic than many contemporaries, as many of the main terms in use are of Greek origin.

    Epidemic: from Greek ἐπί epi ‘upon or above’ and δῆμος demos ‘people.’

    Pandemic: from Greek πᾶν, pan, ‘all’ and δῆμος, demos, ‘people.’

    Equally important terms derive from Latin:

    Virus: from Latin ‘poison, slime, venom.’

    Vaccine: from the Lain ‘vacca,’ meaning cow, a named conferred by Louis Pasteur in honour of Edward Jenner who pioneered the concept by using cowpox to inoculate (mid-15c., ‘implant a bud into a plant,’ from Latin inoculatus, past participle of inoculare ‘graft in, implant a bud or eye of one plant into another,’) against smallpox.

    Exponential: from Latin exponere ‘put forth.’

    At another point in their discussion the philosophers look up at the sky. They point to various planets and speak their names. Then one says: ‘There are things up there which do not have a name.’

    And another adds: ‘There are things down here which do not have a name.’ This brings to mind a disturbing thought, which is that if all things in the universe are related, and some things do not have a name, can the system of naming be relied upon?

    Take the proposition that someone, anyone, may carry the virus but show no symptoms. That, I believe, is a novel idea. One which did not have a specific name, in common parlance anyway.

    At least one eminent virologist has dismissed the claim outright that a ‘healthy-sick’ individual can pass on the virus as a ‘crowning of stupidity,’ when he explained ‘Why Everyone Was Wrong’ in their initial assessment of Covid-19. No doubt other experts hold differing views, but we are clearly in new linguistic territory when ‘asymptomatics’ are suffering from (or is that experiencing?) a disease.

    A few days ago I observed a group of teenagers, aged around twelve or thirteen, pushing, shoving, hugging, flirting, shouting, laughing, jumping, dancing, and even kissing around the Triangle in Ranelagh in Dublin.

    I doubt any of them are as yet familiar with the Classical etymology of important medical terms, or the nomenclature around ‘the virus’ now in circulation. If they knew what the Covid-19 restrictions are at all, they were blatantly flouting them with the enthusiasm of a Republican at a White House garden party.

    Perhaps instinctively they knew they had little or nothing to be concerned about themselves. A report in the Wall Street Journal in May quoted the U.S. Center or Disease Control to the effect that since February only fifteen children under the age of fifteen in the U.S. had died of Covid-19, compared to about two hundred who had died of flu and pneumonia. I just hope their instinct to embrace the fullness of life will not betray any older relatives who might be more susceptible.

    At another point in Plato’s dialogue a row breaks out between Cratylus and Hermogenes. Cratylus tells Hermogenes that ‘Hermogenes’ is not actually his name. This infuriates Hermogenes. It is so his name. His name is Level 3, not level 5! Level 3, Hermogenes! As Leo Varadkar might have said to Tony Holohan.

    Feature Image: The Death of Socrates (1787), by Jacques-Louis David.

  • Looking Back on Lockdown

    With lockdown actively under consideration in some European states once again, including Ireland, we look back on a selection of testimonies from a period many of us thought we had put behind us.

    It all happened too fast, so quickly that we didn’t have time to fully understand. The night before we were sipping beer and eating tapas and waiting for spring to come in the warm evening breeze; the following day we were on the sofa consulting the Netflix schedule for the umpteenth time, without finding an entirely satisfactory choice.

    Diego Pugliese, ‘Barcelona Under Lockdown’, April 3rd, 2020.

    Image (c) Daniele Idini

    Our bodies, already weakened by sedentary lifestyles, are becoming weaker, muscle-mass decreasing quickly through lack of exercise. We do what we can, setting up home gyms, doing yoga in our bedrooms, a few push ups in the morning. No running, swimming, no going for walks; hardly breathing in the fresh air, panting, moving, or sweating. I do a little gardening in pots on the balcony, which I hadn’t done before. All of a sudden tomato seeds seemed the most important item on my shopping list during my weekly, stressful visit to the supermarket.

    Silvia Panizza, ‘Under Lockdown in Piedmont’, April 6th, 2020.

    We can have a gnawing sense that our civilisation got things wrong, that it is being, somehow, punished. A year ago I heard a retreat-giver say that we had lost the ability to read the signs of the times. We had belonged, or thought we belonged, on a planet that although under threat, and although subject to disaster more or less randomly distributed, was broadly on a path of progress, of improvement, even for under-developed regions. Nature mostly provided balance and harmony.

    Modern science reinforces this optimism at the cosmic level. We now know that the total universe that includes our Milky Way as one of nearly a hundred million galaxies has been expanding since the Big Bang. But if the rate of its expansion had been even a millionth of a percent slower, the whole thing would have collapsed, imploded in upon itself. There was fine tuning. Now trust is at issue with a particularly severe jolt for the Western world. It could be said that most of our strategies of coping are in the nature of distraction. To the extent this is so, the underlying unease remains. Call it dis-ease in fact.

    Fergus Armstrong, ‘A Voice from the Cocoon’, April 17th, 2020.

    Image (c) Felipe Monteiro

    What I, other immigrants, and the Portuguese hope is that we can return to the life we had before, and be able to leave this prison, without bars, that our homes have become. While we try to renew ourselves, the city is still and visibly lacking the energy and joy of the local population.

    What is most intriguing in this situation, at least for me, is that we are trying to reinvent ourselves. For example, I have started to cook a lot more during these days of confinement, learning new recipes, in addition to adapting the house for new activities we never used to do at home, like dancing and exercising.

    Despite everything I believe that together we will overcome this difficulty, which is happening on a a global scale; staying at home admiring the birds and their songs that echo along with an inaudible cry for freedom from the citizens.

    Felipe Monteiro, ‘Porto Under Lockdown’ April 17th, 2020

    Dmytro Sidashev / Alamy Stock Photo

    I had booked a hotel – but ended up alongside five families living in a large apartment for seven days. Only two of us were allowed outside to buy food – everyone else had to stay inside. Before leaving we were covered head-to-toe, in gloves, face masks and head coverings. On our return we went through elaborate cleaning procedures before re-entering the apartment. We had to remove our ‘outside’ clothing and spray everything with 75% alcohol.

    No cars with registrations from outside the capital city were allowed in. The schools were on holiday and due to return the first week in March but are still closed all over China. Only students doing important exams at the end of term will be allowed to return initially, which hasn’t happened yet.

    Leaving Beijing, I returned to my home city of ****. You are supposed to scan your phone so they can track potential carriers arriving into the city – which I hadn’t, having used a private firm for the airport collection. This meant my car registration didn’t show up on the cameras. So the next day the authorities were in touch to find out how I made it back from the airport.

    Tobias Easterby, ‘China Under Lockdown: Another Cultural Revolution?’ April 19th, 2020

    Illustration by Malina Molenda/Artsyfartsy for Cassandra Voices

    What if I had to take care of my little ones? While my mom goes outside to try and bring a little money in. What if she loses her job because of the pandemic? Then our only source of sustenance would be gone. Then we would be relying on the government even more than what we were doing before. What do you call that? Resting on the government? Relaxing on the government? Maybe even sleeping on the government because of the sheer amount of people whose lives were turned upside down because of it. As if living life sideways was any easier.

    Elizabeth Ekinwande, ‘Leaving Certificate Under Lockdown’, April 19th, 2020.

    The Swedish approach to the Covid-19 pandemic is a sign of underlying differences in how they understand morality in the public sphere, and how they relate with each other: this comes from a more utilitarian perspective.

    Utilitarianism has earned a bad reputations as it has been incorrectly conflated with crude capitalism, when it is really about taking peoples’ wellbeing seriously, or ‘the greatest happiness of the greatest number.’ As Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mills understood it, utilitarianism is extremely equalitarian .

    Notably, the Swedish government has taken the advice of moral philosophers who come from a moral utilitarian perspective. The core difference between their approach and what we are seeing for the most part elsewhere is they attempt to avoid an understandable reaction to save lives immediately. They put aside an emotional response and consider the future consequences.

    William Smith, ‘Covid-19: ‘A View from Sweden’, April 25th, 2020.

    Image (c) Daniele Idini

    Across the hall, the atmosphere is suddenly lifted by the wit and humour of a ninety-odd year-old who has somehow escaped the dementia and delirium that pervades here. Unlike his fellow residents, this is a man who never wears his breakfast and is more recognisable to me in crisp shirt and tie, top button fastened. When we first met some months ago I doubted his cognition on hearing him shouting instructions to ‘Alexa’ across the room, but it turns out that I was the one that was out of touch. I look at his records – not for resuscitation, not for transfer. Despite his joviality, the oxygen levels already look poor. Given that it is still early on in the course of his infection, it is only a matter of time before he will crash and be gone.

    As the nation scrambled to prepare itself for the deluge of demand on ventilators, this was the kind of man who was never to have been deemed eligible. Yet in spite of the full newspaper spread photos of busy intensive care units, I know there is room for him, and that he has the will to live. Despite his age, were he to defy the admittedly poor odds, he has a quality of life to return to. We embark on the conversation that echoes a distant role-play from medical training which treads gently but directly on taboo. How is it you wish to die, and what interventions might be acceptable or worthwhile to try to prevent that?

    Anonymous Doctor, ‘Diary of a Pandemic Doctor: Nursing Home Chaos’, April 26th, 2020.

    Fear plays a major role in influencing the decisions we make and the actions we engage in. Research has shown that there are sound evolutionary reasons for this. The selection pressures from these types of danger have resulted in domain-specificity in the reactivity of the fear system, meaning that the system has evolved special sensitivity toward such dangers. However, ‘not all human fears are instinctual and hardwired—we need to learn what to be afraid of.’ [i] While this capacity is critical in helping humans deal with the different environments in which they find themselves and which present different sources of ‘danger’, it can also be abused by those seeking to advance their own interests at our expense.

    Justin Frewen, ‘Fear and Loathing in the time of Covid-19’, May 14th, 2020

    Image (c) Conor Blennerhassett

    The resorts of Magaluf, Palmanova and Santa Ponça on the southwest coast of Mallorca are among the island’s most popular destinations. By May, they are usually heaving with a mix of young families, pensioners and stag and hen parties – all availing of cheaper low season prices and temperatures in the high 20s and even low 30s.

    Conor Blennerhassett, Photo Essay: Mallorca After the Pandemic, May 26th, 2020

  • ‘If we winter this one out, we can summer anywhere’

    2019 was a great year for me, my first book was published and had a historic exhibition in the GPO – Stars and Souls of the Liffey – I had arrived, my Everest.

    January 2020 started slowly, but I watched as a new virus was decimating an unknown city in China called Wuhan. From a comfortable distance it still looked bad, watching a city imprisoned in military lockdown, but still it was far away. How would I and Ireland react if this was to travel? And slowly through February it crept ever closer, by the end of the month it started crippling Northern Italy. As always I swam, but me and my mates talked nervously about this approaching unknown, it now had a name – Covid-19.

    How would I fare if Dublin itself  went into lockdown? Without AA meetings for my recovery, would I give up and relapse?

    By early March a few cases were being recorded in Ireland, the media went into hysterical frenzy, almost shaming the inevitable innocent cases.

    Then I got an email to say that my next project was now cancelled. Devastated, I went for my usual swim, sometimes the magic water doesn’t work, it didn’t that day. I came home frozen, riddled with fear, no work, fear of how to pay my rent; suddenly I became unwell. A sore throat and mild fever, paralysed me, as I lay alone on my sofa.

    But no cough. Back then the only symptom mentioned was the hacking cough. I checked my phone and there was now talk of Ireland entering lockdown around St Patricks Day. Armageddon was arriving  Supermarkets running out of food, even fucking toilet paper. I was now in a delirious state of panic.

    The next day the fever went, but I still had the sore throat. On the Monday I tried phoning my Doctor; no answer; permanently engaged or just automated messages to contact some new HSE hub.

    I was now in a state of constant anxiety, with no food in the house, and yet I couldn’t leave home. and I live alone.

    I phoned my ex wife. She kindly said she’d shop for me. On St. Patrick’s Day Leo made his grim, great speech. I still felt he knew something that he wasn’t telling us. Maybe this virus was as deadly as the Spanish flu of 1918-20 that killed up to fifty million, including my grand-uncle aged just nineteen. Death figures of 85,000 were being predicted in Ireland by our Fear driven media.

    All that week I had an intermittent sore throat, but still could not get in contact with my Doctor.

    The thing to watch for was the breathlessness I had heard. This was what caused the dangerous pneumonia. On the Saturday night I went to bed early alone, and suddenly had problems breathing. It being Saturday I could not disturb my Doctor, nor did I want an ambulance arriving to take me to quarantine in hospital, where I’d be met by Hazmat-clad Doctors and become Patient No. 3. Laid low by fear and shortness of breath I could not sleep. By 5am I made a decision to complete my final book, Americans Anonymous and get my things in order in case this was it.

    I eventually relaxed and nodded off, waking up feeling much better. I tried phoning my doctor on the Monday but again couldn’t get through.

    Gradually that week I started to improve. The sore throat, my only symptom, kept coming and going, and I started to practice Wim Hoff breathing exercises to strengthen my lungs, and resumed taking short swims, back to the sea.

    I told people what happened and they asked did I have the cough?

    “No,” I said

    “You are ok then,” I was reassured.

    I walked slowly, masked up, around a deserted Sandycove and saw the Heaney quote on a local gate wall:

    “If we can winter this out, we can summer anywhere”

    As the weeks went by I felt better, swam more and got stronger.

    Did I have Covid-19? Or was it just a flu or an emotional breakdown?

    I still don’t know. It’s all an unknown, like so much around Covid-19.

    As a photographer, I wanted to capture this historic situation within the two mile radius we were permitted to travel.

    Images of masked individuals seamed too obvious, everyone was doing that, and mouths reveal so much in portraiture, and that emotion is what photography is all about for me.

    I explored a deserted Dun Laoghaire, a man feeding pigeons summed up the sombre mood of the time. For weeks I could not capture this historic situation enfolding.

    Somehow it seemed unphotographable: this the most important event of our lives and I couldn’t capture it.

    Then one night down by the sea, a lone surfer emerged out of a sunset. I snapped. Magic and the image worked. I donated it to a Charity art auction and it sold well.

    As lockdown eased more and more people descended to summer in Dun Laoghaire around the Forty Foot. To swim, to escape, to even have fun in our new Covid world.

    Gradually I began to photograph this migration, at first people were cautious, masked, socially distancing on the newly opened beach, but as May turned to July people began to summer properly. The beaches became crowded, like normal, not the new normal; no one wore masks. The virus didn’t spread outdoors, or so we believed.

    Vitamin D and the sun were tonics for our immune systems and slowly I began to create my own personal take on this most unforgettable of summers, which Heaney had promised.

    As this summer of all summers now ends it looks like we are facing into another winter “to out.” Maybe we will all need Spiritual healing that the Born Again seek from our healing waters of Dun Laoghaire.

  • The British Radical Tradition: E.P. Thompson

    Britain has produced its fair share of major public intellectual figures. Having surveyed the legacies of George Orwell, Christopher Hitchens, the Irish-born Edmund Burke and contemporary leading lights John Gray and Jonathan Sumption, I now turn my attention to the great radical historian E. P. Thompson.

    Intellectuals often stand apart from a mainstream radical tradition. Hitchens, for example, while broadly adhering to Thomas Paine and The Rights of Man was a contrarian and dedicated atheist who tendentiously supported George W. Bush’s War in Iraq, although perhaps the waterboarding he voluntarily submitted to, and declared to be a form of torture, acted as a form of atonement.

    It is unthinkable, however, that Edward Palmer (E. P.) Thompson (1923-1993) would have performed such a volte-face. Thompson held himself squarely within the English radical tradition of William Cobbett, Thomas Paine and Robert Owen, as well as his hero the poet William Blake, and to a lesser extent William Morris. Thompson’s ideology was a form of socialitist libertarianism for the ordinary man.

    I grew up reading his work, and indeed watching his grey mane flowing in the wind as he addressed CND rallies, although I understand he was a difficult colleague, a hopeless administrator and an egotist. It seems to have been another case of don’t meet your heroes.

    The Making of the English Working Class

    His lasting contribution is the seminal The Making Of The English Working Class (1980), possibly the greatest work of history of the twentieth century that emphasised a new form of bottom-up history, related to the subaltern history that was emerging at the same time in former colonial societies. Notably, Edward Said’s Orientalism, which was published in 1978.

    Thompson methodology is well captured in the following quotation from this canonical text:

    I am seeking to rescue the poor stockinger, the Luddite cropper, the “obsolete” hand-loom weaver, the “utopian” artisan, and even the deluded follower of Joanna Southcott, from the enormous condescension of posterity. Their crafts and traditions may have been dying. Their hostility to the new industrialism may have been backward-looking. Their communitarian ideals may have been fantasies. Their insurrectionary conspiracies may have been foolhardy. But they lived through these times of acute social disturbance, and we did not. Their aspirations were valid in terms of their own experience.[i]

    Also, In The Making Of The English Working Class, Thompson places himself firmly within the British rights-driven tradition and focuses on The Liberty Tree, and its essential components of freedom under the law, freedom from arbitrary arrest, trial by jury, habeas corpus and the spectrum of individual rights now under threat of obliteration.

    I suspect, just as Lord Sumption is a libertarian, albeit in a different sense, who has spoken out about the restriction on our current restrictions on liberties, Thompson would be horrified at the course of current events in the U.K. ushered in by Coronavirus Emergency legislation and recent Counter Terrorism Legislation.

    https://twitter.com/RTUKnews/status/1296487156198903808

    The Poverty of Theory

    Although a Marxist – albeit unlike his contemporary historian Eric Hobsbawm he resigned from the Communist Party of Great Britain after the Soviet invasion of Hungary in 1956 – he was also a historian in the empiricist tradition, distrustful of great meta narratives and the abstract musings of structuralists, which culminated in his famous polemic against Althusser The Poverty of Theory or an Orrery of Errors (1978).

    He argued that individuals were agents of activity though caught within the agency of history. They have room to achieve what they do, but only under specific conditions and defined constraints. His sense of the developmental nature of the working class is perhaps best illustrated in the following quote: ‘The working class did not rise like the sun at an appointed time. It was present at its own making.’[ii]

    This led to the famous opening passage of The Making of the English Working Class, and his emphasis in his teaching on bottom-up or grassroots analysis, rather than a top-down, theory-driven, approach. He prized empirical evidence derived from the activities of human subjects. A true historian.

    That great book in fact has many resonances for our age, not least in how the chiliasm of despair and poverty awakened renewed religiosity – Wesleyan Methodism in particular. His bottom-up analysis pointed to how religion became the opium of the people. This may also explain the rise of religious fundamentalism in our own period of profound economic security.

    Thompson demonstrated how local worker communities were often collective, and how a moral economy operated that distributed goods and services according to the respective needs of those who traded and bartered. These localized and community-driven economies were also explored by the late David Graeber in his Debt: the First 5,000 Years (2011).

    It would be a mistake to view Thompson as anti-religious, or to put it another way, he saw a values in religion or in certain religions. On the one hand he rejected what he saw as an authoritarianism implicit in the hierarchical structure of Catholicism, but in Protestantism he found a pragmatism that chimed with his distrust of system-building.

    Influence of Antonio Gramsci

    Thompson was greatly influenced by Antonio Gramsci, in particular his famous concept of hegemony and a war of position for proletarian emancipation. Gramsci identified an ongoing war of position occurring between the elites and workers, a category which extends conceptually to embrace anyone who is not part of an ever-narrowing plutocracy or billionaire class.

    Gramsci allocated a substantial role to intelligentsia and politicians, but also to workers’ councils in altering the course of history to achieve a Communist society. The working class would first have to attain a cultural hegemony before gaining political power he argued: ‘The workers could only win if they achieved cultural hegemony before attaining political power.’

    Occasionally, he seems to identify it (hegemony) with political power exercised by coercion, but as a rule he distinguishes the two concepts, so that hegemony signifies the control of the intellectual life of society by purely cultural means. Every class tries to secure a governing position not only in public institutions but also in regard to the opinions, values and standards acknowledged by the bulk of society. The privileged classes in their time secured a position of hegemony in the intellectual; as well as the political sphere; they subjugated the others by this means, and intellectual supremacy was a precondition of political rule. The main task of the workers in modern times was to liberate themselves spiritually from the control of the bourgeoisie and the church and to establish their own cultural values in such a way as to attract the oppressed and intellectual strata to themselves. Cultural hegemony was a fundamental and prior condition of attaining political power. The working class could only conquer by first imparting its world view and system of values to the other class who might be its political allies; in this way it would become the intellectual leader of society just as the bourgeoisie had done before seizing political control.[iii]

    The Rule of Law

    Thompson diverged from conventional Marxist theory in his approach to the role of law. A conventional Marxist view consider this as:

    by definition a part of a ‘superstructure’ adapting itself to the necessities of an infrastructure of productive forces and productive relations. As such, it is clearly an instrument of the de facto ruling class: it both defines and defends these rulers’ claims upon resources and labour-power – it says what shall be property and what shall be crime – and it mediates class relations with a set of appropriate rules and sanctions, all of which, ultimately, confirm and consolidate existing class power. Hence the rule of law is only another mask for the rule of a class. The revolutionary can have no interest in law, unless as a phenomenon of ruling-class power and hypocrisy; it should be his aim simply to overthrow it.[iv]

    In contrast Thompson was a qualified supporter, arguing that: ‘Law may be seen,’ he argued, not only instrumentally and ideologically, but also ‘simply in terms of its own logic, rules and procedures – that is, simply as law.’

    In Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act (1975) Thompson argues against the idea that the law could be reduced to a superstructure, reflecting the class interest of the ruling class, but offered instead a more complex truth inherent to which was the fact that ‘it could not be reserved for the exclusive use only of their own class.’

    He concluded that the law did mediate existing relations and was ‘a superb instrument by which these rulers were able to impose new definitions of property to their even greater advantage,’ for example, in terms of his historical works by extinguishing agrarian use-rights and by enclosures but on the other hand, the law mediated these class relations through legal forms, which imposed, again and again, inhibitions on the actions of the rulers.

    Also, Thomson argued that rulers ‘believed enough in these rules, to allow, in certain limited areas, the law itself to be a genuine forum within which certain kinds of class conflict were fought out.’ On occasion the government itself was defeated in the courts: ‘Such occasions served, paradoxically, to consolidate power and to enhance its legitimacy,’ but also ‘to bring power even further within constitutional controls.’

    Thompson suggested  that this role of law was in essence: ‘a legacy as substantial as any handed down from the struggles of the seventeenth century to the eighteenth and a true and important cultural achievement,’ and further that ‘the notion of the regulation and reconciliation of conflicts through the rule of law’ was ‘a cultural achievement of universal significance’

    He asserted that though imperial in its origin, the rule of law inhibited that imperial power such that:

    Transplanted as it was to even more inequitable contexts, this law could become an instrument of imperialism. For this law has found its way to a good many parts of the globe. But even here the rules and rhetoric have imposed some inhibitions upon the imperial power. If the rhetoric was a mask, it was a mask which Gandhi and Nehru were to borrow, at the head of a million masked supporters.

    His classic position from Whigs and Hunters is encapsulated in the following statement:

    But the rule of law itself, the imposing of effective inhibitions upon power and the defence of the citizen from power’s all-intrusive claims, seems to me to be an unqualified human good. To deny or belittle this good is, in this dangerous century when the resources and pretensions of power continue to enlarge, a desperate error of intellectual abstraction. More than this, it is a self-fulfilling error, which encourages us to give up the struggle against bad laws and class-bound procedures, and to disarm ourselves before power.

    Later he elaborated that:

    If I have argued elsewhere that the rule of law is an ‘unqualified human good’ I have done so as a historian and a materialist. The rule of law, in this sense, must always be historically, culturally, and, in general, nationally specific. It concerns the conduct of social life, and the regulation of conflicts, according to rules of law which are exactly defined and have palpable and material evidences – which rules attain towards consensual assent and are subject to interrogation and reform.

    Criticism

    Thompson has been criticised for upholding what is considered by some to be the conservative doctrine of the rule of law, and not an unqualified good according to Morton Horowitz; or as Adrian Merritt argues: its logic is ‘the logic of class formation.’

    Bob Fine also suggests that the Rule of Law need not be characterized as ‘an unqualified human good’ for one to recognize that it is superior to bald authoritarianism, and that other institutions such as democratic elections limit power and that, rather than limiting power, the law serves in various ways to enhance the power of the ruling class.

    Nonetheless, in Thompson’s defence it can be argued he is only suggesting that the rule of law was neutral and not conservative and neither promoted nor impeded substantive justice. In this context  Thompson insists that he was ‘not starry-eyed’ about the law. On the contrary he was bent on ‘exposing the shams and inequities which may be concealed beneath this law.’

    Nevertheless, for Thomson the rule of law was ‘an unqualified human good,’ because it is invariably superior to unbridled authoritarianism, and what makes the rule of law an unqualified human good for Thompson is the lack of any available substitute mechanism for limiting arbitrary power in complex societies.

    His faith in the common man is again evident in his assessment of jury trial.

    Jurors have found, again and again, and at critical moments, according to what is their sense of the rational and just. If their sense of justice has gone one way, and the case another, they have found “against the evidence,” … the English common law rests upon a bargain between the Law and the people: The jury box is where the people come into the court: The judge watches them and the people watch back. A jury is the place where the bargain is struck. The jury attends in judgment, not only upon the accused, but also upon the justice and the humanity of the Law.

    British Empirical Tradition

    Like all British empiricists from Burke to Hitchens and Orwell, and especially as an historian, Thompson was acutely sensitive to issues of truth and lies, shabby cover ups, semi-truths and disinformation.

    Thompson’s book on Blake, his last, endorses the attack on the beast, which is in effect the state or state religion classified by Thomson as the whore of Babylon.

    As an educationalist he was incidentally a humanist, recognising the importance in his teaching of objectivity and tolerance, but seeing these not as important matters in and of themselves – in that we are all a product of our time – but as offering useful educational and heuristic methods.

    His focus on ordinary people, on human rights and the rule of law and his distrust of great systems and absurd generalisation and abstractions is now of great relevance, as are his warnings and research into religious fundamentalism. Alas, E.H. Thompson’s devotion to the determination of facts, detail and accuracy is sorely lacking in contemporary discourse.

    [i] E. P. Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class, Victor Gollancz Ltd, London, p.14

    [ii] Ibid, p. I

    [iii] see Lezsek Kolakowski: Main Currents of Marxism: Its Rise, Growth and Dissolution Volume 1: The Founders, Oxford Paperbacks, Oxford pp.241-42

    [iv] Thompson, in Beirne and Quinney, Marixism and Law, Wiley, New York 1982

  • Cuba Libre! At Home with Ronan Sheehan

    Last week Andrea Reynell met renowned Irish man-of-letters Ronan Sheehan in his Dublin home. They discussed his abiding passion for Latin poetry, the challenges and opportunities for young writers and what has inspired him to assemble a volume of translations of Cuban poetry from a range of Irish writers.

    I was welcomed into a cosy sitting room with a green/blue sofa, a pale wooden table with chairs, while dozens of photographs and art works adorned the walls. The Libyan Sibyl and another painting reminiscent of the great Irish epic, An Táin Bó Cúailnge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley) caught my eye. A well-used fireplace lay to my left behind Ronan, as the open door to the back garden let in a cool breeze as we sat at the table.

    A: How did you get your start in writing poetry?

    R: I don’t really write in poetry. I write more prose which I started writing when I was at school and I got interested in literature then. I had two things published when I was sixteen one was a short story in The Irish Press which was a big thing in my day. And the other was a poem in a magazine called The Kilkenny Review, or something like that. But subsequently I learned to love poetry, but I don’t really write poetry. I can write translations which is a different thing.

    A: I’d be the same myself. I prefer writing prose to poetry. I’ve been doing a few bits and pieces but don’t have anything published. But as long as I enjoy it really. How much do you reckon the Irish literary society has changed since you first started writing?

    R: That’s a good question. I think It’s changed a lot. When I was in my teenage years the nineteen-sixties. I suspect you weren’t born then Andrea.

    A: (laughs) No. Not even close.

    R: For starters there was very little or no publishing houses in Ireland and when The Irish Press started to publish stories and poetry that was kind of revolutionary because the only other places were a couple of literary magazines that was all that was there. And consequently, to get something published was a big deal. And now there are a lot of publications and in some way that’s better, in the sense that there’s more chances for people to start off. In other ways I have reservations about it because I often get the sense that there’s too much going out. I hope that doesn’t sound mean spirited.

    A: How important do you think the arts are today?

    R: I think the arts are very important if you like but, for this reason that what you might call the world of culture. It’s really dominated by enormous interests, the high-tech companies like Google and also by Hollywood and big music companies so that the small country and the individuals are really cowed by the sheer power of those things. So, whenever the arts afford individual voices to be heard I think that’s very important for that reason. I mean I could name other reasons as well but that’s one cultural reason as to why I think the arts are very important.

    A: What poets, or writers past or present would have an influence on your work?

    R: Jorge Luis Borges

    (There’s a photo of the late, famous Argentinian writer on top of the book case across from me) Do you know who he is?

    Jorge Luis Borges (right).

    A: Yes, I’ve read up on him.

    R: Did you read it from my essay?

    A: I did indeed, and it was very interesting.

    R: Thanks a lot. Sorry I wasn’t looking to drag that out of you!
    In school I studied Classics and I studied Latin and English when I went to UCD. While I really loved that engagement with books and so forth and as I got older I realised that there were some books and some writers and even some works that touch you. In a way that is not necessarily quite rational. You don’t look at all the points in Ulysses like you’re taught and say: “oh that’s a great book.”
    But it’s different when something affects you right? So I hope this doesn’t sound pretentious but a writer whom I loved in Latin was Catullus who was a Latin poet and I did a project about Catullus some while ago. And another writer was Tacitus who was a historian so that’s one thing, don’t want to go on forever. Another person that I loved, as I wrote a book of short stories was Borges and it was a thrill for me to meet Borges. And if you read the essay that I did I think I’ll always remember. When I quoted to him something that he’d said about Tacitus. And he said, “Tacitus records the crucifixion but does not perceive it” and Borges just looked across and said “Did I write that? I don’t think I’m a very good writer you know, but maybe in the sixty years trying I’m entitled to the odd good line.”

    A: That’s brilliant

    R: Isn’t it?

    A: That just really encapsulates who he was.

    R: Yeah it does. It’s a very good position for a writer to be, you know. Not to be arrogant, not to be presumptuous that you’re great. In my case I’ve written a few things I think came out well, a lot of things that didn’t. But I’d much prefer to be in Borges’s camp and say well, I think one or two things came up, you see. So, you’re sort of at ease with yourself in that position, does that make sense?

    A: It does indeed. And how much of an impact do you reckon he’s had on your future and current work?

    R: He had an influence on some of the essays that I’ve done, and he has an influence on a book that I’m writing now, and I’ll tell you why. That while I say an influence, it’s something that I have in my ear or try to do well is, he has a terseness, a succinctness about his sentences that I love because they’re so resonant. And when you leave down a page that Borges has written you feel this resonance of meaning and possibility and a richness of language so it’s beautiful you know it’s lovely. That’s what writing is for and I would love to try and imitate that.

    A: So, for the readers of this article, where did the idea for the book of poetry come from?

    R: Many years ago I edited an issue of a magazine called The Crane Bag on Ireland and Latin America and for one reason or another I don’t think I was able to do anything Cuban in that issue. One of my favourite books is a Cuban book called The Kingdom Of This World by a writer called Alejo Carpentier which is about the slave revolt in Haiti in the 1790’s, then Santo Domingo. So when I was on the board of Poetry Ireland about twenty years ago, the possible of going to Cuba came up. So, I went and met people in the writers’ union including the president and we made an agreement that we would do a joint anthology of poetry together, that’s how it came about.

    A: What would your favourite poem of the anthology be and why?

    R: That’s a good question. It is a poem that translated by Trudy Hayes and it’s called, It’s a poem about. (He trails off here) How about I go get it? It’s very short, I’ll read it, it’ll be nice.

    A: Yes, go ahead.

    He walks out of the sitting room, which leaves me a chance to take in the abundance of things on the walls. A clock ticks away, a steady beat, as I wait for him to return. He soon reappears with a black book.

    R: This is a proof copy of the book. If I may say a little bit about the book?

    A: Yes, absolutely.

    R: So, see what you make of this, this is called ‘Blessed are the Mean Spirited’ (Interpreted/translated from Spanish by Trudy Hayes)

    Blessed are the unperturbed spirits
    Not born of a poisoned womb
    Or terrorised by a lurching ghost,
    Or by their own raging seed,
    Those erupting with a terrible sickness
    Doomed to wander eternally a path in the wilderness that never
    leads home.
    Blessed are those not burning on a furnace of love,
    The unmarked smiling ones,
    The behatted archangels In fishnet tights,
    The patters of bellies, the jellied ones, the loved ones, the
    virtuous ones,
    The pied pipers and their enchanted mice, the business tycoons
    and the Superheroes,
    The movers and shakers, the poised, collected, unshaken ones,
    The fragile ones, the wise ones, the palatable ones, the smiling
    and waving ones,
    The truly fine ones and the truly sweet ones sweet to the core.
    Blessed are the Innocent birds of paradise, the steaming cow
    dung, the Implacable stones.
    But MAKE WAY for the creatures of the Dream and the
    Nightmare.
    Make way for the lost, damned, grief-stricken souls wandering
    a lonely path.
    Madder and drunker than their ancestors. Scorched by love.
    Trying to find a way home to the house of straw hats, for they
    saved you. 

    A; Wow, that’s haunting and ominous but powerful

    R: Isn’t it? I hate sounding like a professor, but one of the things I like is the kind of writing that makes a point, which communicates something. Lots of poetry doesn’t do that but that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that. I read that out at a street party during the summer and Trudy read it out somewhere and people responded to it. Do you know they thought that was good. Ok so that’s one thing. It either speaks for itself or it doesn’t. Another thing I’d like to say about this book. It’s about fifty Cuban poems and about fifty translations and without going into the entire history of the whole thing, it’s quite powerful if you bring it into a book, lots of different voices. Some of the people translating are really well-known poets who are lauded, others are people I brought in, they’re not poets at all. But they’re good, they’ve got something to say, they can use language, they’ve got some spirit. So that when you’re reading this you don’t know what to expect next, so the idea is to give a book a kind of potency like that.

    A: I find that’s exactly what it does, so moving along to another question. I found there was a big difference in formality between some of the poems, so for example The Boy and the Moon with lines like:

    The moon and the boy play
    A little game between them;
    They see each other without looking, they talk in fits of silence.

    Versus in ‘Pineapple’ where we have a lot more of what you could call Irishisms.

    Indulge me, pineapple.
    Imagine if bould Fergus,
    leppIng from Tara had given Glasgow a miss,
    Ryanairing it instead to hotter shores. 

    I love that line.

    So, What are your thoughts on the differences in this language?

    R: Ok can I be theoretical for a bit? This is going to sound academic or whatever. Ten years ago, I did a translation of the Latin poet Catullus called The Irish Catullus or One Gentleman of Verona.  It was a protest against the closure of the Classics Department in Queens University. The phrase the Irish Catullus really derives from a translation of the Aeneid which is called the Irish Aeneid. What was called the Irish Aeneid was the first ever translation of the Aeneid into a vernacular language in the thirteenth century by a bard of Ireland. They translated it before anybody in Oxford or Cambridge or anything, ok? But the way he did the Aeneid was he really rewrote the whole thing right, like he reshaped it. (Ronan gives a laugh here)

    A: As you do.

    R: As you do. The whole point of this was so that the people of Sligo, and Mayo and Galway and that culture could receive it otherwise there was no point in doing it.

    A: So, I guess you could say in ‘layman’s terms’ more or less.

    R: Yes, exactly. In the culture that it was going into. So I invited the people, including Mia and the people who were translating the Catullus poems to do it in what I call the Irish Aeneid spirit. To reshape it, to put it into our context if they wanted to. There’s a hundred translations of Catullus. What’s the point in doing another in just the same way? So, people did that, and Mia did it brilliantly. There’s lot of sex in Catullus. Roman street sex poems and Mia translated them into Dublin sex poems and they’re brilliant, they really work. So here what she’s done is something similar and a different idea. She hasn’t just followed word for word the poem, she responded to it and she’s introduced her own language and that’s a perfectly legitimate thing to do.

    A: So, what challenges did you face when translating poems from Spanish to English, do you think some things may have got lost in translation?

    R: Yes, I think it’s a truism that something gets lost in translation but equally if nothing is translated everything gets lost. So I think Spanish in a way is deceptive in that you’d think that because the words are specific, that you can’t just use a dictionary and translate them, but you can. But the thing that’s not so easy to do is the rhythms of Spanish like they have noche que noche oscura (‘night what a dark night‘s’). It doesn’t sound the same in English so that’s in some of the poems. I have a little Spanish, and I can see there’s a whole atmosphere and world in those poems that doesn’t necessarily come out through translation, but something else does come out which makes it all worthwhile.

    A: In the preface you say that fifty poems by Cuban poets born prior to 1959 were chosen and fifty poems by Irish poets born prior to 1922 were chosen. Is there a significance to these dates?

    R; Yes, the reason is that there was the Cuban Revolution in 1959 and there was the Irish free state (that was established) in 1922 (and the Irish Civil War) so in a way the idea was to sidestep the issue of the revolution in both countries.

    A: Again in the preface, it was written that fifty Spanish poems were swapped with the Irish side and fifty poems in English were swapped with the Cuban side. But in the end fifty Spanish poems were taken and were translated into English and given an Irish interpretation. Why did you decide to take this route rather than have Irish poets write their own poems?

    R: That’s another good question too. Because this is the first encounter between the two countries at this level although there’s another interesting one which I’ll come to in a minute. So it’s better to sometimes manage something like this. There was a formality in a way that perhaps made this manageable whereas if you were to open it up in the way you had described it would be a different proposition.

    A: What will your next writing or poetry project be?

    The criminal court of justice, Dublin. Daniele Idini/Cassandra Voices

    R: The next writing project I will be doing is to revise a book that I’ve been working on for a while which is called Green Street. Green Street is the name lawyers gave to the Special Criminal Court. Did you ever hear of Robert Emmett?

    A: Yes

    R: Did you ever hear of Sarah Curran, Robert Emmett’s fiancée? My cousin Margaret is a descendant and looks like her and that’s her up there in the green hat. (He points at a photo framed by the door). See, so she has to go to Green Street. What do you think of that? Anyway, so that’s what I’m going to be doing. So yes the most famous thing that ever happened in Green Street was the trial of Robert Emmett. And as I say Robert Emmett was in love with Sarah Curran, and I also did cases on Green Street and a few years later my brother and I did so in a way exploring that.

    Sarah Curran playing the harp. Painted by William Beechey, c.1805.

    A: Is there anything else that you’d like to comment on that you feel would be important for readers to know?

    R: I think that I’m going to make a compliment to Cassandra Voices shall I do that?

    A: If you like, can’t go wrong.

    R: A really good thing that can happen in literary culture is to have small groups or magazines that are bringing out books or magazines and programmes that are independent. That’s really what I know in my experience of such things, that’s where real creativity resides.

    After I stop recording, I get a closer look at the photo of Sarah Curran’s ancestor, the green hat is indeed striking, the face shapes are similar too. I thank Ronan for his time and step out into the warm sunlight to make my way home.

    Feature Image: Daniele Idini (c)

  • Musician of the Month: Fergus Kelly

    I am a visual artist and improvising musician. I trained as a painter, but also worked with various media including sound, installation/performance, sculpture, print and photography during my studies. My visual work since leaving college in 1987 has largely centred around photomontage, and in recent years has moved into painting and drawing (still using photography as source).

    I began using sound pretty much from the start in college, using found metals, initially to record with, and later use in live work, inspired by the work of Test Dept., Einsturzende Neubauten, z’ev & Bow Gamelan. I was also inspired by the work of Dome, :zoviet*france:, Hafler Trio, Strafe Für Rebellion, Nurse With Wound and others, and began constructing very simple tape collages which were used for tape/slide works and installations.

    Apart from a brief flirtation with guitar in my teens, I am not musically trained. I got the hang of drums some years later and really enjoyed the physicality of that instrument, but never played in a band. Since college, I have continued in the vein of constructed and adapted instruments and tape collages.

    Cabinet Of Curiosities instrument, in concert with Judith Ring, I&E Festival 2006, Printing House TCD
    (photo: Sean MacErlaine)

    I’ve been passionate about music from an early age, and my love of the post-punk spirit of DIY and experimentation found a crossover with the further reaches of sonic exploration coming from the Fine Art approaches to sound as a sculptural medium. I then discovered improvised music and was smitten. The possibilities just seemed wide open. There was a directness and a simplicity that was really appealing. It was also a much quicker route to producing music by sidestepping years of training. Of course, it’s not just musical ability you bring to the table, it’s imagination and intelligence too.

    The possibilities expand further when working with other players in an open dialogue with parity of presence, no grandstanding, all listening attentively as much as playing or not playing. Listening is key. I established a strong connection with drummer David Lacey early on, and went on to play and record on many occasions over the years in a very sympathetic and satisfying working relationship for which I’m really grateful – the natural chemistry is a source of great joy.

    I’ve also worked with other Irish players such as Judith Ring, Jurgen Simpson, Paul Vogel,  & Dennis McNulty, as well as UK players Max Eastley & Mark Wastell. We put out a trio album to critical acclaim on Mark’s Confront label in 2019, The Map Is Not The Territory.

    I have pursued this area of exploration ever since because it’s really where my heart’s at. I’m in my element. It’s a completely obsessive and highly fetishised world for me. I’ve always loved the idea of making something from discarded materials, the idea of transformation; base metals into… not quite gold, but something beautiful or intriguing at least.

    Percussion stand adapted from roto-tom stand photographed in studio, c.2009.

    These materials inspire a particular approach with all their tactile and evocative qualities. Whole worlds can be constructed with these sounds with the compositional possibilities of the computer (4 track in the early days forced a particular discipline that’s served me well since). That’s the other side of it for me: the idea of making your own unique sound world, evolving a voice that establishes a particular presence, one that hopefully moves beyond your influences and into something different, something engaging and satisfying.

    Brian Eno’s work in the 70s and early 80s was another significant inspiration for me, especially his On Land album. In his liner notes, he speaks specifically about the idea of landscape, memory, and a sense of place. He also mentions the notion of psychoacoustic space—the idea of using recording technology to create imaginary spaces and atmospheres: the suggestive power of sound. This absolutely got the hook in me.

    Field recording has been a core element of my practice since 1986, when I bought a secondhand recording Walkman whilst on summer work in London (no summer work in recession-hit Ireland in the 80s). My immediate environment in all its fascinating detail became framed between my ears whilst listening on headphones. I was completely taken with the possibilities this offered for further manipulation/recombination, enriching my sound palette.

    I went on to buy a DAT recorder in the 90s, and latterly have used the Zoom H4N flash card recorder, as a handy device that can be carried in a back pack. A lot of my recording would be opportunistic – hearing something that takes my fancy and capturing it, or returning later. For more involved recording, especially wildlife recording, I use a Sound Devices hard disc recorder with DPA mics in a windshield, or a Telinga parabolic reflector for capturing bird song. I’ve built up a considerable archive over the years, which I dip into for compositions which are either wholly field recording-based, or are one part of a composition, to add particular colour, texture and depth.

    Feedback set-up with contact mics in metal vessels, from launch gig for A Congregation Of Vapours album at the Goethe Institute, Dublin, 2012.

    When composing, improvisation is essential in building the material from the ground up, mainly because I can’t conceive of structures in the abstract as someone traditionally trained would do. But then that is only one system. Mine is another, admittedly more labour-intensive and time consuming one. I’m approaching it from an artist’s perspective – painting and sculpting with sound. Sound as raw, malleable matter to be manipulated – prodded, poked, pushed, pulled, beaten, hammered, scalded, stretched, scarred, chopped, diced, dessicated, burnt, and glued, taped, nailed and bolted back together again.

    The editing of the material is where the pieces find their form. The painterly/sculptural analogy is apt as the sounds get built up and hacked back quite brutally, cross-hatched with other material, further distilled and recombined, depending on what’s working or not. Pieces can start out relatively long and end up a fraction of their original length.  And sometimes shorter pieces that weren’t strong enough to stand alone end up being stitched together into a larger piece. Listening is a really important part of the editing process. I would usually put rough mixes on CD and audition them at home for a period of time, let them settle – hearing them in much the same conditions as the listener. If there’s areas where I find I’m losing interest, then it’s got to be pruned. I shouldn’t lose interest for a second. I’ve got to be totally involved all the way.

    4 & 6 string devices made with guitar and bass strings mounted on teak beams, made in 2014.

    In 2005 I established my CDR label Room Temperature. I’ve released mostly solo material on the label since, in EP and full length album form, as well as two collaborative albums with David Lacey and a live album with David Lacey, Paul Vogel & Dennis McNulty. I’ve also released albums on Farpoint, Stolen Mirror, Unfathomless and Confront. September 2020 saw the release of my 16th item on my label, Plundered Lumber.

    This is a 52 minute album comprising 13 tracks using mostly bass guitar and metal percussion. It’s a return of sorts to a form of composing last used about 20 years ago, where an emphasis on rhythmic interactions and melodic interplay was the main driver. I’ve used little or no processing (apart from some delay and reverb) and no field recordings. Some delays were added after, some used during recording, as a phantom rhythmic element to play against.

    I did a lot of this kind of thing on the technically limited but (with lateral thinking) creatively manipulable 4 track  in the 90s with a mixture of drum kit, gongs, non-European percussion, found metals and bass and various small stringed instruments picked up in markets and the like. I used to put compositions on tape and give them to friends. Before graduating to digital tape and CDR, and long before online presence and downloads, the cassette underground was a lively and many-splendored thing.

    Full album statement can be read here:

    https://www.roomtemperature.org/p/rtcd16-fergus-kelly-plundered-lumber.html

    One other recent development in my practice has been the creation of tribute pieces to artists whose work has had an influence on me. It began with a piece to celebrate ex-Wire  member Bruce Gilbert’s 70th in 2016, and went on in 2017 to celebrate the work of Bow Gamelan Ensemble’s Paul Burwell, marking the tenth anniversary of his death. I also marked Wire’s 40th anniversary in 2017, and the 40th anniversary of Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures in 2019.

    These pieces usually have about a 10 – 15 minute run time, and use a combination of edits of their music and music that influenced them, as well as other cultural influences – film, TV and radio, which I combine with current affairs snippets, comedy and interviews to create a rich portrait. This year I produced my most ambitious tribute yet – to the 1970s music of David Bowie, which ran to just under 22 minutes:

    Another work recently completed in a similar vein, though it’s not a tribute as such, is Spectral Vectors, which was composed for Come Hell Or High Water, a monthly series of live events on the Thames foreshore at Poplar, organised by Bow Gamelan Ensemble’s Anne Bean and others. I was to have performed at this in September but the pandemic put paid to that. So Anne suggested I make a sound work in lieu. The piece I’ve composed takes as its starting point the idea of ghosts of the Thames; river revenants in the form of lost sounds of previous times from the river’s busier industrial past, such as ship’s horns, tugboat horns, foghorns and other industrial sounds.

    Expanding on this theme, the idea of things lost/buried/hidden/removed came to mind. Documentary radio footage relating to sunken unexploded WWII ordnance and tragic drowning was combined with recent field recordings of mine made with contact mics attached to cabling beneath Millenium Bridge at St. Paul’s, amplifying sounds hidden to the naked ear, when the bridge is animated by foot traffic, wind coursing through it and sun warming it.

    Hydrophone recordings also capture hidden sounds – various vessels passing, sounding thin and insubstantial as wind-up bath toys from a submarine perspective. Delving deeper, recordings made inside Greenwich foot tunnel feature; resonant metallic sounds buried beneath the river itself echo along the tunnel’s length.

    Municipal greed and acts of resistance also form part of the documentary material with Bob Hoskins enlightening Barry Norman in 1982 about various development scams along the river, Malcolm MacLaren talking about the Sex Pistols’ 1977 riverboat gig, and riverboat men going on strike. This footage is animated by the addition of lost ship’s horns, populating the river with a lively, boisterous presence.

    Listen to the piece and read full statement here:

    https://www.roomtemperature.org/2020/09/spectral-vectors.html

    Fergus Kelly is a Dublin based visual artist/composer/improvisor. Working with field recordings, invented instruments, electronics, photomontage, painting and drawing, publishing albums via his CDR label, Room Temperature (www.roomtemperature.org)

  • Game Over: American Democracy in Tatters

    The death of Ruth Bader Ginsberg signals the death knell of the tradition of liberal American judges from William O’ Douglas, to the Irish-American William Brennan, and Harry Blackmun. In recent times we have had Stephens, and perhaps Souter, who went on a  voyage of passage from conservatism to moderate liberalism. Such warning signs ripple across the pond as America sneezes and Britain catches a cold. Or rather all catch Covid-19, and Trump appoints Amy Coney Barrett before the election.

    And it is abortion that at one level is the defining issue or rather the side-tracking defining issue. America has been down this road before when Reagan appointed Sandra Day O’Connor to be the first female Supreme Court judge, as an ardent anti-abortionist, only for her to endorse to a limited degree the fundamental right to procreative autonomy in Planned Parenthood v Casey (1993). I do not think Trump has made the same mistake, much to my chagrin.

    Let us be clear: the appointment of a woman because she is a woman is not a cause for unique celebration. It is a Populist gesture to deflect criticism from her judicial philosophy. She is in fact a deeply conservative alt-right human being, whatever about her personal qualities.

    Populism joins religious fundamentalism with a veneration of unregulated free markets in American. Top it off with a clean cut corporate fascism and you have a signature hemlock cocktail.

    An ardent Catholic with seven children (two adopted), contraception not I suspect being permitted; a supporter of the ownership, possession and use of handguns even for non-violent felons (see Kanter v Barr (2019)), something she has inherited from the recently deceased Supreme Court Judge Anthony J. Scalia. She clerked affectionately for the guy we like to call Tony the Phoney.

    It now gives hardline conservatives an in-built majority of 6-3 to overturn the case of Roe v Wade (1973). Thus the case which established the right to abortion in America is imperilled and a neoconservative appointed to the bench. Harry Blackmun, the author of Roe v. Wade foresaw this calling it in Planned Parenthood (1973) the light flickering at the end of his moving judgment. That light is now soon to be extinguished.

    Of significant concern to Irish and U.K. nationals, even allowing for special relationships, she also voted as a circuit court federal judge for Trump’s hard line legislation on Green Cards and will no doubt also support the expansion in the protection of religious rights, which the Supreme Court has hitherto been agnostic on.

    Gay rights groups have been very troubled by her views. She has gone on record and is appointed to dismantle even the remnants of Obamacare, narrowly endorsed by the Supreme Court in truncated form. Hard right-wing Republicans see health care as an entitlement not a right.

    Trump’s greatest legacy according to the Senate majority leader is the stacking of the Federal courts with 217 hard line conservatives and now three in rapid succession to the Supreme Court. The conservatives understand that the three recent appointments will dictate policy for perhaps forty years and are unlikely to be impeached. So the Thermidorian Reaction has seized control, irrespective of the outcome of the forthcoming Presidential election.

    To understand the ascension of such a person to me is to understand the stranglehold that the alt-right now exerts over U.S. politics. The conservative hard rightist is the new norm. Politics has shifted to the extent that even modest liberalism is equated with the dread spectre of socialism, and Trump in the recent debate with Biden can sanction and endorse alt-right fascism and thuggery without restraint, thus encouraging disparate sympathisers throughout the planet and in the U.K..

    In terms of judicial philosophy, following her mentor Scalia, she is a strict constructionist textualist and an adherent of original intent, thus handgun use, even by felons, is acceptable as if we were still in 1776.

    No doubt she will also be well placed if rushed through quickly by November 5th under unorthodox emergency procedures on a carefully engineered Senatorial confirmation with limited scrutiny to oversee any electoral problems her mentor Trump has; or for that matter if he loses to assist in his probable declaration of a state of national emergency; followed by the Federal invocation of martial law to extinguish American democracy.

    Her appointment signals not just the dying of the light, but, quite frankly, game over for American democracy, and perhaps global democratic values. This is a power grab that will take generations to undo.

  • The Rise of the Machines

    ‘Hey Siri, how will AI impact the Future of Work?’

    If you have already worked out that whoever lives inside your phone when you say ‘Hey Siri’ or ‘Hey Google’ can read emails out to you, find the nearest movie theatre, or reserve a restaurant table, then Artificial Intelligence (AI) is already in your life. AI automates ‘real time’ scans on your travels, gives current and projected weather data, identifies a spam mail, and, above all is operating on Google’s ever-evolving search engine.

    Businesses, big and small, are leveraging artificial intelligence in multiple ways. Large-scale organisations are already making the move towards intelligent data analytics. Two prime examples are chatbots and recommendation systems that we encounter online almost every day. Artificial intelligence enables businesses to process bulky data in real-time. Through this, AI can provide meaningful insights into solving recurring business issues.

    For instance, businesses can identify inconsistencies in their operations and anomalies in their patterns to re-strategize their processes. Not just this, but through in-depth analysis provided by artificial intelligence, businesses can also determine the root cause of problems they face.

    ‘Data-driven’ and ‘AI-driven’ are not synonymous though. The former focuses on data and the latter on processing ability. Data holds the insights that can better enable decisions; processing is the way to extract those insights and take actions. Humans and AI are both processors, with very different abilities.

    Among the benefits that AI offer are:

    1. Activising quicker decisions: for example, oil companies can alter the price of gas according to the demand with the help of AI-powered pricing. Similarly, travel sites, retailers, and other services use dynamic pricing on a regular basis to improve their margins.
    2. Effective handling of multiple inputs: machines certainly can do better than humans when it comes to managing big data, and can make complex decisions to predict the best decision and avoid certain errors.
    3. Reduce fatigue: when people are forced to make numerous decisions in a limited time the quality of those decisions diminishes. This is the reason you see candy and snack bars near cash registers at supermarkets; shoppers get exhausted with so much decision-making while shopping, making it much more difficult to resist the sugar craving at the point of sale.

    Algorithms have a few weaknesses…

    Algorithms can help make equally good decisions at any point in time, helping executives to avoid bad decisions due to exhaustion. This can lead to non-intuitive predictions through more original thinking. Thus, through AI, executives can identify patterns that may not be immediately clear to human analysis.

    AI refers to machine intelligence or a machine’s ability to replicate the cognitive functions of a human being. It has the ability to learn and solve problems. In computer science, these machines are aptly called ‘intelligent agents’ or bots.

    There are three broad types or categories. Firstly, assisted intelligence, which refers to the automation of basic tasks. Examples include machines in assembly lines.

    Secondly, there is augmented intelligence, where there is give and take with augmented intelligence. An AI learns from human input. We, in turn, can make more accurate decisions based on AI information. As Anand Rao of PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC) Data & Analytics puts it: ’There is symmetry with augmented intelligence.’

    Thirdly, there is autonomous intelligence AI, with humans out of the loop. Think self-driving cars and autonomous robots. We see this in something as basic as automatic photo-tagging on Facebook, which came out with an augmented reality application that employs deep learning in real-time object recognition in 2015. You can look forward to driver-less cars and so much more. In the same way, we can expect AI to be applied further in business, particularly in decision-making.

    Today’s AI systems start from zero and feed on a regular diet of big data. Data-supported decision-making has been a reality for quite some time now. AI has helped in improving innovativeness and the quality of decision-making. This is augmented intelligence in action, which eventually provides executives with sophisticated models as a basis for their decision-making.

    Marketing Decision-Making with AI helps in identifying and understanding customer needs and desires, and align products to these needs and desires. AI modelling and simulation techniques enable reliable insight into your buyer personas. These techniques are now used to predict consumer behaviour. Through a Decision Support System your artificial intelligence system is able to support decisions through real-time and up-to-date data gathering, forecasting, and trend analysis.

    Customer Relationship Management (CRM) is another area where Artificial intelligence involves automated functions such as contact management, data recording, and analyses and lead ranking. AI’s buyer persona modelling can also provide you with a prediction of a customer’s lifetime value. Sales and marketing teams can work more efficiently through these features. Recommendation System is another domain where the AI system learns a user’s content preferences and pushes content that fit those preferences. This can help you reduce bounce rate. Likewise, you can use information learned by your AI application to craft better targeted content.

    The many blessings of AI: Examples across Sectors

    Example of AI are noted across sectors. Volvo would be a good case in manufacturing since it uses AI to improve continually its safety reputation. In 2015, Volvo fitted 1,000 cars with sensors to detect and analyse driving conditions and to monitor the vehicle’s performance in hazardous conditions. The collected data is then uploaded to their cloud. Volvo works on this data with Teradata for carrying out machine-learning driven analysis across its collected data. Volvo’s early warning system now analyses over a million events per week to predict breakdowns and other failures in their cars.

    Energy is another sector where application of AI has emerged rapidly in the past five years. BP Plc for example has installed sensors in its gas and oil wells, which continuously collect data to monitor and understand the working conditions of the wells at each site, irrespective of the physical location. Analysing this data helps BP monitor and optimize the performance of their equipment and keep a tab on their maintenance needs to enable smooth and unhindered functioning. This improves operational efficiencies and cost-saving.

    The two keywords that we are beginning to see in any AI related discussion on debates are social computing and opinion mining. Social computing helps marketing professionals understand the social dynamics and behaviours of a target market: for example how the social media platforms can track, analyse, evaluate and project consumer behaviour.

    Opinion Mining is a form of data mining that searches the web for opinions and feelings. AI has helped shorten the long hours required to do this through reliable search and analyses functions. Typically search engines use this method, which continually rank people’s interests in specific web pages, websites and products. Thus perhaps when you visit a webpage it might tell you that ‘you have visited this page 20 times in the past seven days’.

    ‘In the end, all technology revolutions are propelled not just by discovery, but also by business and societal need. We pursue these new possibilities not because we can, but because we must.’

    AI shall lead to enhanced decision-making for a wide range of business stakeholders. With increasing dependency on devices and mobile apps that are AI managed at the core, the new desire creation or consumption of some of these are AI-driven, consciously or unconsciously.

    Ethical Concerns

    ‘Artificial intelligence is kind of the second coming of software.’ Instead of serving as a replacement for human intelligence and ingenuity, artificial intelligence is generally seen as a supporting tool. Prior to exploring the many ways that Artificial Intelligence can be defined or recognise potential opportunities and challenges in machine- or deep-learning, common debates seem to first point out some of the ethical concerns that AI brings in the contemporary society.

    Below is a summary of concerns and possible remedies in terms of AI that have been discussed by policymakers and scientists:

    (a) Increased application of automation technology will give rise to job losses, but applying the sophistication and complexity of AI should lead to the redeployment or workers, if necessary retraining them for tasks that are still the sole preserve of human beings.

    (b) AI will trigger continual machine interaction on human behaviour and attention, igniting a need to address algorithmic bias originating from human bias in the data.

    (c) We will need to mitigate against unintended consequences, as it is believed that smart machines may learn and develop independently.

    (d) Finally, it will be necessary to addresses burning issues around customer privacy, potential lack of transparency, and technological complexity.

    The benefits of AI, however, are so numerous and multi-dimensional that it would be a shame to dismiss this technology outright. For businesses, AI can support both product and process innovation.

    This includes improving simple features like simple spam filters, smart email categorisation, voice-to-text recognition, or utilising what our smart personal assistant – such as Siri, Cortana or ‘Google Now’ – can do for us on a daily basis, in addition to automated responders and online customer support.

    AI further helps in sales and business forecasting, improving security surveillance, as well as adjusting smart devices to accord with our behaviour.

    ‘Day-to-Day’ Benefits

    At a quick glance let us understand the ‘day-to-day’ benefits of AI for businesses. Firstly, AI improves customer services, linking to virtual assistant programs that provide real-time support to users (e.g. billing).

    Secondly it can efficiently optimise logistics and procurement assignments – e.g. using AI-powered image recognition tools to monitor and optimise infrastructure, plan transport routes, etc.

    Thirdly, AI improves and increases manufacturing output and efficiency, especially in the automobile industry production line, by integrating industrial robots into workflows, and teaching them to perform labour-intensive or mundane tasks.

    Fourthly, AI can predict performance, for example by using AI applications to determine when you might reach performance goals, such as in response time to help desk calls.

    Fifthly, AI can predict behaviour, for example by using Machine Learning algorithms to analyse patterns of online behaviour to, for example, serve tailored product offers, detect credit card fraud or target appropriate adverts. This list is certainly not exhaustive, but it gives an idea of the scope of benefits that AI brings to businesses.

    Along came Machine Learning and Deep Learning…

    Machine learning is one of the most common types of artificial intelligence in development for business purposes. It is primarily used to process rapidly large amounts of data.

    Machine learning is useful for putting vast troves of data –  increasingly captured by connected devices and the internet of things – into a digestible format for human consumption. For example, if you manage a manufacturing plant, almost all of your machinery is connected to the network.

    Connected devices feed a constant stream of data about functionality, production and more, to a central location. Unfortunately, it’s too much data for a human to ever sift through, and even if they could, they would likely miss most of the patterns. This is where Machine Learning really comes in.

    It is also a broad category. The development of artificial neural networks, an interconnected web of artificial intelligence ’nodes’, has given rise to what is known as ‘deep learning’.

    Deep learning is a more specific version of machine learning that relies on neural networks to engage in nonlinear reasoning. Deep learning is critical to performing more advanced functions, such as fraud detection. For example, for self-driving cars to work, several factors must be identified, analysed and responded to at once. Deep learning algorithms are used to help self-driving cars contextualize information picked up by their sensors, like the distance of other objects, the speed at which they are moving and a prediction of where they will be in five to ten seconds. All this information is calculated simultaneously to help a self-driving car make decisions such as when to switch lanes.

    It would be useful to look at some examples of how AI changes customer experiences as well as making business processes and internal systems more efficient.

    AI At Your (customers, retailers, supply chain, e-tails) Service

    Let’s turn our attention to Sephora, the makeup brand. When a customer walks into a Sephora store to find a makeup shade before trialling anything on the face a Colour IQ scans her face and provides personalized recommendations for foundation and concealer shades; while Lip IQ does the same to help find the perfect shade of lipstick. This can be a huge help to customers who know the stress of finding the perfect shade by trial and error!

    Walmart, the retail giant, are planning to use robots to help patrol their vast aisles. Walmart is testing shelf-scanning robots in dozens of its stores. The robots can scan shelves for missing items, items that need to be restocked or price tags that need to be changed. These robots can free human employees to spend more time with customers and ensure that customers aren’t faced with empty shelves.

    Another company to utilize AI is North Face. The company uses IBM Watson’s cognitive computing technology to ask questions of customers about where they’ll wear the coat and what they’ll be doing. Using that information, North Face can make personalized recommendations to help customers find the perfect coat for their activities.

    Uniqlo the clothing chain is another example. They are pioneering the use of AI to create a unique in-store experience. Select stores have now AI-powered UMood kiosks that show customers a variety of products and measures their reaction to the colour and style through neurotransmitters. Based on each person’s reactions, the kiosk then recommends products. Customers don’t even have to push a button; their brain signals are enough for the system to know how they feel about each item, which might sound a bit scary!

    Amazon Go is Amazon’s cashier-less grocery store where the company is attempting to revolutionize not only the way people shop online, but also the way we interact with bricks-and-mortar stores. The company completely automates the grocery shopping experience. Once the shopper checks in via app, the sensors throughout the store track whichever items they put in their basket. Once their shopping is complete, customers can just take their items and leave. No checkout lines, no cashiers, no baggers. Amazon automatically charges shoppers when they leave the store.

    Finally, an extended example would be DOMO, a fast-growing business management software company that has raised over $500 million in funding. They have created a dashboard that gathers information to help companies make decisions. The cloud-based dashboard can scale to the size of the company, so it can be used by teams as few as fifty, or by much larger enterprises. There are more than four hundred native software connectors that let Domo collect data from third-party apps, which can be used to offer insights and give context to business intelligence.

    This gives companies using Domo a way to pull data from Salesforce, Square, Facebook, Shopify, and many other applications that they use to gain insight on their customers, sales, or product inventory. For instance Domo users who are merchants can extract data from their Shopify point-of-sale and e-commerce software, which is used to manage online stores. The extracted information can be used to generate reports and spot trends in real-time, such as in product performance, which can then be shared to any device used by the company.

    Cut to Credits…

    It is now evident that AI brings a colossal amount to the table for a wide range of business stakeholders to add convenience and simplicity to customer experiences, while also saving time and money for business, along with making processes and planning more efficient and future-facing. Debates, nonetheless, should continue to trigger innovative learning solutions around how to offset or reduce some of the ethical concerns that AI brings along with its benefits.

    Feature Image: Kismet, a robot with elementary social skills at MIT museum (wikicommons)

  • The Horse That Kicks

    For Daniel and Others

    ‘Is Heroin still a thing in Dublin?’ The academic, and Professor of the field asked me somewhat perplexed. This is 2019, don’t you know, boy. Heroin is pastiche here in my wood-panelled mind of tenure and privilege. The arrogance and elitism illustrated the issue: there is a disconnect from warm offices, fragrant welcoming baths, internet browsing and the addict out there, anonymous. In pain. In want. Shivering. In desperation. Rattling.

    Heroin has always been a thing in Dublin since members of the Dunne family brought it into the inner-city flats, in the eighties, and now, forty years on, there are many struggling people firmly atop its precarious cliff-face.

    Heroin addicts tend to mate for life. Like dilapidated swans – twisted in a deadly alliance they dance and embrace towards a finality of breath. Like a sculpture in a Giorgio de Chirico painting. It is an ersatz marriage of sorts, sharing needles – inveigling that sharp, finite pain. Into the vein. The arm. The thigh. Leaving rack-marks like horse gallops that tear up the grass on a racecourse. Puckered, indeed, punctured skin. Delving into the life’s blood. The blood’s life which is cherished. Next to Godliness. Spike island. Feel like Jesus’ son was The Velvet Underground’s lyric. Warm blanket to insulate against the world’s harshness. Being judged. Much of it in the head and coveted paranoia.

    This is a process of annihilation. A nuclear war on the self. Total destruction of the physical form. Heroin strips the body and brain of all nutrients. That’s why the addict cannot respond well to reason because there is no reason to grasp onto. The only clench is the death-watch grip of the next score. To score goes beyond food. Love. Understanding. Addiction is a monster. A hairy, unrelenting, unfulfilled beast. The might just of garnering the score. A little cellophane baggie of fine brown dust which brings so much for relief for the addict.

    Hepatis C is big.  Blood-borne virus. Hep C is a worry. For many.

    There is the messy out-of-control user who will leave used needles everywhere. These addicts are very chaotic. They, usually, have had a big negative event which has impacted their life to such an extent that the mantra of ‘Fuck it!’ colours their small outlook. Hence a headstrong dive into heroin.

    The addict through heavy usage draws themselves into a bare corner. The retreat into that inner-world. Not harmonious if you have no Art to draw upon to help alleviate you. Some become that solitary user. They alone are ensconced in a safe place to cook and shoot up. A singing yellow-blub overhead. They ride the snake, to the acid-filled lake. It is easy to romanticise The Doors’ version of Heroin use. There is an outlier aspect to the lone user.

    That fine line between life and death – you crawl down along that line. Sluiced and carried along on that geometrical plane. Like crayfish in need on the wide open, busy streets. Needing that score half-an-hour ago to take the sickness away.

    Sheets of tinfoil. The black scorched shadow of the chased dragon high.

    The skin is cold. Sometimes it takes on a deadened, marbled-hue. Pallid. Eyes are shrunken back into hollow sockets. Fear lies therein. A desperation cranks the features.

    Cook-pot –

    Bent over the cookpot. The wagging flame of the lighter, Sapping the golden-brown, liquid-funk through the swab. The beating eyes upon the arm or leg. The measure up. The careful dart – the hospital-like plunge. Needle bleeding in. The foetal position. The meridian of death. Which belts around the cold.

    I recall one Saturday listening to the silence, in a project, and knowing that one of the residents was up there and there was this deathly silence. I went up to his room. There he was.  Behind the door. Lying there. Upon his back. Eyes wide open. Lifting him like a corpse, lightweight, he came to, and immediately grabbed a brush and began sweeping around his bed. He said ‘Thanks’ and continued in a manic way. His debilitating high was over, for now.

    Every recovering addict, and it does not, necessarily, have to mean ‘Heroin’, learns that the strength to be able to not partake in whatever vice it is, grows and that turns into confidence. Yet, a silent confidence, and welcome abstention.

    Yes, it’s your gear. Your decision. But now you tear a fabric in the shell of your being and you let blood’s life-flow ebb out. The branch is torn.

    I am very sorry for your loss.

    A workman stopped me outside the project one day and told me the year before, he watched a seagull with a needle in its mouth looped up onto the roof and dared it to be remonstrated. A needle. For a nest. The junky’s nest. Stark symbolism against a soft blue sky.

    Neil Burns worked in a Dublin city centre emergency accommodation for just under two years, experiencing the visceral nature of heroin up close and personal.

    Neil Burns Twitter: @Foreverantrim