The Republic of Conscience

by Seamus Heaney


When I landed in the republic of conscience
it was so noiseless when the engines stopped
I could hear a curlew high above the runway.

At immigration, the clerk was an old man
who produced a wallet from his homespun coat
and showed me a photograph of my grandfather.

The woman in customs asked me to declare
the words of our traditional cures and charms
to heal dumbness and avert the evil eye.

No porters. No interpreter. No taxi.
You carried your own burden and very soon
your symptoms of creeping privilege disappeared.

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Fog is a dreaded omen there but lightning
spells universal good and parents hang
swaddled infants in trees during thunderstorms.

Salt is their precious mineral. And seashells
are held to the ear during births and funerals.
The base of all inks and pigments is seawater.

Their sacred symbol is a stylized boat.
The sail is an ear, the mast a sloping pen,
the hull a mouth-shape, the keel an open eye.

At their inauguration, public leaders
must swear to uphold unwritten law and weep
to atone for their presumption to hold office –

and to affirm their faith that all life sprang
from salt in tears which the sky-god wept
after he dreamt his solitude was endless.

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I came back from that frugal republic
with my two arms the one length, the customs
woman having insisted my allowance was myself.

The old man rose and gazed into my face
and said that was official recognition
that I was now a dual citizen.

He therefore desired me when I got home
to consider myself a representative
and to speak on their behalf in my own tongue.

Their embassies, he said, were everywhere
but operated independently
and no ambassador would ever be relieved.

Running Just to be on the Run

After several hours tinkering with the course planner on www.run.com yesterday I realised that I've been totally underestimating the lengths I've been running in training for the half-marathon.

Instead of being comfortable doing 12/13km as I thought I was, it turns out I'm comfortable doing about 8km and am most uncomfortable getting to 12km.

I went about 11km yesterday after work and am stiff as a board today--including a bizarrely stiff neck that causes me agony if I turn left - yes I'm no longer an ambi-turner. Swing dancing should be fun later this evening ;)

How the hell am I going to do 21.5km up and down Connemara hills on Sunday week?

It seems I'm running out of time (boom boom). A lot of pain is coming my way on April 6th and there's not a lot I can do about it.

Ciara - my Irish Daily Star

Finally the rest of the world can understand my awe and respect for my housemate and friend Ciara Boylan.

Not only has she got her viva for her phd this week but she also managed to start a 'media storm' in Ireland yesterday with a carefully timed email to the Russell Brand show. She had noticed some overlap in the topics under discussion on his show and those that popped up on the Ray Darcy show.

Her biting email caught the eye of Brand's researchers; he devoted his show on Saturday to the 'theft'; the Ray Darcy show responded on Monday and today.....her dream of tabloid coverage came true!

Page 3 of The Star features the story of 'out-of work sculptor' Ciara Boylan and her provocative email habits. She got her picture in the paper and all!

When interviewed about her 15 minutes of fame s glowing Ciara said "It's great--I've had the best day of my life. I'm not going to stop here - TV is next!"

"I want to thank ace reporter Bob Cox, the support of my family and friends and, most of all, my future husband Russell Brand for rising to the bait".

Good luck on Thursday Ciara, oh and happy birthday for Friday.

You rock.

Dear Dirty Dublin

I'm beginning to see the nastier side of Dublin life....Got my brand new shiny red bike nicked at the weekend.

Bastards!

There's a slim possibility that I may have left the padlock on the shed unlocked so I can't even be righteously angry at the theft - I was asking for it.

They even nicked my bicycle pump.

Ggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

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Meanwhile 100 Minutes goes up tomorrow night and I'm operating the lights a few nights this week.


*busy*

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Training update:
So it's less than 5 weeks to my half-marathon--time I started, you know, running and stuff.
I did about 9/10km on Sunday (after 12 days hiatus) and now have legs stiff as concrete. It's kind of a good feeling though...not sure why.

Goals:
* not to leave it another 12 days till next run.
* not to screw up the lights of the play when I'm responsible.
* to get lots of 100 Minutes posters up over next few days.
* to track down a cheap second-hand battered looking bike that no one will want to nick...know anyone who's selling?