Thomil's Random Ramblings

If you have nothing to write about, why not write about writing? Okay, okay, I know what you’re thinking, that’s an awful cop-out when you’ve run out of ideas, and to be fair, I have for the moment run out them. Still, it might not be a bad idea to give a little insight into the convoluted way that I come up with my articles, and the equipment I work with. I know, I know, writing is mostly about your talent and your ideas, and less about the equipment, but there are some things that still require careful consideration. But let’s take things step by step, shall we? The most important thing you need, is of course a topic. I can’t really give much advice on that front, but you should obviously write about something that interests you, and while varying your topics is not a bad idea, you should keep the topics relatively consistent. That is to say, if you’re writing a beauty blog, putting an article in there about plasma dynamics in the accretion discs of supermassive black holes will b

Another year is almost over, and the festive season is in full swing, indeed, it is nearing it's end. Once more, people are racing to and fro, trying desperately to get presents or the last crucial ingredients for that oh so traditional christmas dinner. More or less tasteful christmas lights adorn buildings throughout the cities, towns and villages, and radio stations up and down the country seem to have switched to the same type of playlists. For me, Christmas season 2015 is a special one, as I've been able to spend these  still somewhat magical days with my family for the first time since migrating to Ireland back in 2012. Quite a change from last year, when my colleagues and I were so caught up in day-to-day ops that christmas was just another day for our management teams to walk around in funny clothes at work. It was so busy in fact, that I didn't even find time to write christmas messages on my two blogs. Even though a colleague of mine and I both got lucky to g

Taking off in a foggy, rainy, miserable Cork. We thunder down the runway, lights blurred by spray, shooting off into the dark skies.  Breaking out of the clouds into the moonlit night, wispy cloud tops drenched in an otherworldly silver glow. Turning East, rising into the night. Blue hues begin creeping over the horizon, the harbinger of dawn, racing towards us in its ceaseless cycle. Descending into dawn, as night is banished around us. Silver, black, blue, and orange vying for supremacy. Leaving the clouds, we swoop over a world just waking up.  Back to the real world.

Heritage - a word that is both empowering and immobilising. To this day, many people see it as a source of pride, something that tells them where they belong, especially for those who are unwilling or unable to find their own place in this admittedly chaotic world. It is a term that has been used or abused to justify just about anything, from colourful parades through southern Bavarian towns at certain times of the year, to keeping Catholic Irish from voting in Northern Ireland and brutally enforcing segregation in the Deep South of the United States.  While that may be a topic all of its own, I'm not planning to go down that road just yet. Instead I'll concentrate on an issue that is just as contentious as anything I mentioned in the opening paragraph - The way we treat the architectural heritage in our modern cities. Quite a u-turn, eh? Well, the issue itself isn't new, in fact it has been present ever since the first large scale urban redevelopment took place followin

I don't know what to say.  I am truly at a loss for words. Once again, Paris has been the target of an abhorrent, despicable attack. The scenes that flickered across TV screens last night have burned themselves into the minds of all those watching, and the horror of the events at the Bataclan music club and at other sites throughout the city will probably never leave those poor souls who had to live through them. I will not go through the numbers here, nor will I show any images of the carnage of last night, this has been well covered by other media. If you look at it from a distance, with a certain detachment, you would think that we would have gotten used to this kind of attack. After all, it hardly is the first. New York, Madrid, London, Bali, Mumbai, and just this winter the attacks on the offices of Charlie Hebdo in Paris. However, this attack feels different. It seems to have struck much closer to home. This wasn't some far-away place, or some newsroom, this ha

To say that the second decade of the 20th century was important for Ireland can safely be classed as the understatement of the year. It was pivotal in Irish history, with the Dublin Lockout of 1913 kicking of a series of uprisings that would lead to Irish Independence from the UK by 1922. Among these events, the 1916 Easter Rising has gained a special place in Irish history and lore. Every major player in Irish politics during the first first two thirds of the 20th century took part or could claim more or less esoteric connections to those who fought in that uprising. The fact that the Easter Rising was a tactical clusterfuck of the highest order is tactfully overlooked, as is the fact that it was an abject and total failure. Still, the heroes of the rising, Michael Collins, James Connolly, Eamon de Valera and others are lifted onto a pedestal, idealised almost to the point of canonisation. The annual commemoration of the Rising is the climax of the political year and sees everyone

Sometimes One plus One equals Zero. It may not be mathematically correct, but it chimes with real life. Over the last few days, Cork has seen quite a bit of this type of mathematical travesty. The reason? A panel of so-called experts has recommended the dissolution of Cork City Council and it's integration into the existing Cork County Council. The reaction to this recommendation was as expected as it was vociferous: Large parts of the local population, including opposition leaders such as Miheal Martin of Fianna Fail, Irelands largest opposition party, are vehemently opposed to it. And for once, I cannot help but agree with mister Martin. It is an incredibly stupid and ill-informed decision. How did it all come to be? Well, it started with a long overdue review into the boundaries of Cork City. These boundaries haven't changed since the 1920s, and while they were certainly adequate back then, they are woefully inadequate nowadays. The city, Ireland's second largest, is

It is amazing how quickly cities can turn themselves around, if they just have the will to do so. New York has done so, Bristol has done so, Dublin was trying to do it when the economy collapsed, and Cork would like to try but can't really be bothered to do so. A really prime example of how such a turnaround can look, however, is Liverpool. Traditionally a gateway to the industrial centres of northern England, and an industrial powerhouse in its own right, the city suffered immensely when the shipyards and heavy industry finally collapsed in the late 1970s. Some of the older german readers of this blog may remember a devastating report by ZDF, one of Germany's two state-run TV stations, that showed scenes from Liverpool reminiscent of the first "Mad Max" movie.  You'll be hard pressed to find anything of that nature in Liverpool today. The city has changed almost beyond recognition, the old docks are alive again, the inner city has been rejuvenated, and to top