The Cliffs of Moher as seen on the Aer Lingus website.

Seriously like. Why does the web graphics person think it’s ok to flip an iconic scene like this? It’s even worse then they horizontally flip a persons face for the web or newspaper. It just looks weird…

Cliffs of Moher image by Beppie K [cc]

Posted via web from lecraic’s posterous

Fascinated this morning by an article in the Feb 15 & 22 edition of The New Yorker about mules. I’ve never given any thought to mules before and my knowledge of them is limited to two facts:

1) They’re like donkeys

2) I can be as stubborn as one at times

After reading the 6 pages and 14 columns of the article I now realise that mules deserved better from me. I really should have made an effort to get to know them better. I think you should too. So here are the best bits from “Riding High. Mules in the Military. By Susan Orlean”

• A mule will carry up to 136 kg, seven hours a day, twenty days straight, without complaint.
• Mules have an inviolable commitment to self preservation, which is often misinterpreted as stubbornness. In truth, it is probably a form of genius. A horse will eat until it founders and dies; a mule will only snack, even if it happens upon an open bin of oats.
• Mules are the hybrid result of mating a male donkey with a female horse.  They have an uneven number of chromosomes and are therefore sterile. Every mule is sui generis; it leaves no legacy beyond itself, no radiating gene pool to mark its visit to this world.
• Once upon a time in America, a young man without mule handling experience would have been the exception.
• George Washington had a herd of mules – one of the first in the US. They were sired by an Andalusian donkey named Royal Gift, which he had received as a gift from the King of Spain.
• The mule population of the USA has been on a roller coaster ride since the highs of over 5 million in 1930. The Amish population explosion between 1982 and 2008 saw a big increase in demand for mules.
• A 2008 study of mule cognition at the University of Sussex fond that mules, over all, not only understood things better than either horses or donkeys but were also better at following instructions.

That’s the great thing about the New Yorker. You just never know what you’re going to learn from it, and when those little tidbits of information might come in handy. I know that next time some says I’m stubborn as a mule, I can say that, actually, it’s a form of genius.

Image above owned by argo 72 [cc]

Posted via email from lecraic’s posterous

George has gone. Enda is next.

—————
BREATHTAKING FUNDRAISER FOR HAITI

Ireland – 20th January 2010

Aid organisations in Ireland have praised the response from the Irish public in their appeal for funds to help survivors of the earthquake in Haiti on Tuesday 12th January. 8 days on and people continue to dig deep. The vast majority give until it hurts. They do so in their own quiet way. Nobody needs to shout about their donations or what they are doing to help.

One Irishman, Michael E. Gowan, has come up with a novel way of egging on the last remaining folk who have yet to pick up the phone and call one of the aid agencies to donate a few bob. Mick has decided to breathe for 5 days for Haiti.

“I was sitting in front of the computer monitoring all the chatter on various internet sites about Haiti and to be honest, I was fucking well sick to the back teeth of so many messages about the tragedy. People were sending around links of where to donate. They were sending around pictures and news reports of all the devastation. I just couldn’t take it any more.

There was far too much talk, and not enough action. All of these bleeding hearts fucking up my chillaxed day were obviously just not fucking well donating while they were sending around all these links and what not.”

Mick’s mind went into overtime and after about a week of fevered thinking the idea for the ‘Every breath I take for Haiti’ initiative was born.

“Yes, it has quite a ring to it. I like the name of it. I came up with it myself. I should actually be given a job writing press releases to be honest, I’m that fucking good – I really am. Oh sorry, sorry got distracted there for a minute. Anyway, I am going to BREATHE for the next 5 days solid. In and out, in and out through my lovely lovely lungs. 15 breathes a minute, 900 an hour, 21600 in a day. Over 5 days that’s the best part of 108,000 breaths.

All I’m asking is people to sponsor my breathing for the next 5 days. They can do this by visiting the special donation page I have set up. At the top of the page you can read all about me and my amazing breathing and lung capacity and how awesome breathing is and whether I should stop breathing or not. I also have a Q&A section on the site. One common question people ask is what will do if my breathing is not going to reach the 108,000 breath target. Simple solution – paper bag & bit of the old hyperventilating will do the trick to get me back on target”

Potential sponsors shouldn’t be put off by the fact that Mick is asking you to sponsor something that requires no sacrifice or effort like running a marathon or fasting for 24 hours or climbing a mountain or swimming a river or having a chest wax or anything like that.

“That shouldn’t put people off at all. It’s not unreasonable to ask for sponsorship and give nothing in return for that sponsorship. It’s all in a good cause and if anyone should question this they can just FUCK OFF. I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow them right down. How FUCKING dare they question the great Michael E. Gowan. “

Michael’s website is open for donation now at www.icantbelieveitsontwitter.ie

END
———-

* May or may not be true.

By the wonders of technology I’m writing this post from the recliner in the sitting room. Christmas candle is lighting and making a nice smell, tv is on RTE and the mass from Malahide. I fulfilled my obligation last night so I don’t have to give it my full attention.

Relaxing day in prospect – the rush is over for another year. Happy Christmas.

Yep, definitely Mr. Shop Steward. Knows everything about everything despite being as thick as a half dozen railway sleepers. That explains his absolute insistence that the pittance I charge for Christmas cards is way too much. “Sure you can buy the card for doing them in Dixons for half nothing”, he says without making eye contact. “Is that right? And what about the design and putting the photograph and message on them”. “Ah sure anyone can do that on the computer nowadays”. And that’s my cue to just walk away because if I let myself get into a conversation like that, it wouldn’t do my heart any good.

After the first year he poked his nose into my work I just dismissed him as an old codger bored out of his tree waiting for the wife getting her hair done or something. Never thought I’d see him again but he returns like a bad smell at the same time every year. He must have it marked on his Shop Steward’s diary or something :

End November/Early December. Visit shopping centre and see about getting personalised Christmas cards. Annoy the guy trying to make a living and belittle the effort that goes in to making something that doesn’t look as shit as what I’d make myself if I bought paper from Dixons and printed it out on my shitty printer.

And every year it’s the same comment about them being too expensive. A once a year purchase of a few cards is going to break the bank for this man. A man that can only see the value of something in terms of the piece of paper it is printed on. There is, literally, no winning in a situation like that unless you move on price. This year, I did move on price and offered a different type of card. Much cheaper to produce and, therefore, cheaper to sell. It was a case of having to do it, as there are a lot more Mr. Shop Stewards around nowadays with the R_______n

Anyway, there I was last week working away and who should I spot only my favourite little ray of sunshine eyeing up the Christmas cards. I fully expected the conversation to go as it had in previous years. I wanted it to go as it did previously. I desperately needed confirmation that he was just an old miserable codger who was never going to buy a Christmas card anyway, and price was just an excuse.

“Ah, it’s yourself. So, what do you think of the Christmas cards this year – does the price suit you?”. Here it comes now – the “too expensive” line.. “Yeah, I got some on Saturday actually”. Wait, what was that – you actually BOUGHT them? This can’t be right. You’re just a miserable old codger who loves to come in every year and play with my mind. Who has the script? There’s been some mistake.

But no, he actually did buy them. I asked how many he got and when he got them. Sure enough, there it was on the order book. 13 Christmas cards. I’m just sad I wasn’t there to actually take the money from his almost cold dead hand and do a little victory dance. A hollow victory dance since he really won the battle, but hey I’ll dance if I want to. He got a little dig before he went though. “Yeah, the Christmas cards are good for the price now. Pity your calendars aren’t cheaper though”. I couldn’t even muster a response to that. All I could do was watch him walk off with his hands behind his back looking all Mr. Shop Stewardy. If he thinks those calendar prices are coming down, he’s got another thing coming. Miserable old codger.

As well as having the full range of Tayto products at factory prices, there is opportunity for merchandising. Tayo tee shirts, mugs, mousemats etc etc. The chief spud himself could be there every day or at the weekends for photo opportunities. A Tayto cafe somewhere in store as well, selling crisp sambos. Freshly cooked kettle crisps anyone? Just visit Tayto world. I know I’d visit.