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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2009-11-14:/</id><title>Happy Hour in Herne Hill</title><link rel="self" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/comments/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-14T13:34:22+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-03-24:/2006/01/12/pain_of_return_part_one_a_love_supreme~463757/#c867043</id><title>In response to:Pain of Return- part one, A Love Supreme</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/12/pain_of_return_part_one_a_love_supreme~463757/#c867043"/><author><name>Robert Yates</name></author><published>2006-03-24T13:22:18+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T13:22:18+01:00</updated><content type="html">Thanks for calling me a poetry and translation genius, Niall. Nostalgia is of Greek derivation, not Latin.&lt;br&gt;
Cheers&lt;br&gt;
Robert</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-03-07:/2006/01/31/fan_letter_to_a_dead_man~522076/#c784057</id><title>In response to:Fan Letter to a Dead Man</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/31/fan_letter_to_a_dead_man~522076/#c784057"/><author><name>frankofyle</name></author><published>2006-03-07T12:11:41+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T12:11:41+01:00</updated><content type="html">Art school in Bath... would that be Bath Academy of Art at Corsham Court with the landscaped gardens by Capability Brown?</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-20:/2006/01/18/knowing_the_taste_of_the_final_straw~482565/#c581718</id><title>In response to:knowing the taste of the final straw</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/18/knowing_the_taste_of_the_final_straw~482565/#c581718"/><author><name>niallosullivan</name></author><published>2006-01-20T11:50:43+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T11:50:43+01:00</updated><content type="html">As wounded cowboys often say:&lt;br&gt;
"Ya got me..."</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-18:/2006/01/18/knowing_the_taste_of_the_final_straw~482565/#c573299</id><title>In response to:knowing the taste of the final straw</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/18/knowing_the_taste_of_the_final_straw~482565/#c573299"/><author><name>Misty</name></author><published>2006-01-18T15:21:53+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T15:21:53+01:00</updated><content type="html">Oooer, did I find it?</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-17:/2006/01/17/the_red_tops~479410/#c568681</id><title>In response to:The Red Tops</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/17/the_red_tops~479410/#c568681"/><author><name>niallosullivan</name></author><published>2006-01-17T16:18:46+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T16:18:46+01:00</updated><content type="html">The only parts I made up in that story were the less surreal elements, I saw a lot of weird shit around the South Acton Estate, a fair amount worse than the incident with the firearms.  And no, none of it makes me feel like I’m living in a bad country. &lt;br&gt;
A few years ago I saw Hubert Selby Junior read excerpts from his new novel and answer questions at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. This was a man who had spent most of his life in unbearable physical pain, a man who had written Last Exit to Brooklyn, Requiem for a Dream, and The Room, perhaps the most disturbing book that I and many others have ever read. Yet, during the reading, he was utterly charming, graceful and funny. I remember someone asking him if he thought there was any good in the world and he said &lt;em&gt;yes&lt;/em&gt;. When pushed to elaborate on his answer , he said:&lt;br&gt;
“ I know there’s good in the world because we have the capacity to destroy the entire planet in minutes and we haven’t done it.”&lt;br&gt;
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that the goodness or badness of a society is dependent on your vantage point. Many people think that allowing immigrants into the country is a bad thing, others say its just the natural pay back we make after our empires have sucked up their resources.&lt;br&gt;
Ultimately, what I’m trying to point out in the poem is that blanket statements like the &lt;em&gt;country’s going to the dogs&lt;/em&gt; are lazy and fairly idiotic, properly punctuated or otherwise.&lt;br&gt;
</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-17:/2006/01/17/the_red_tops~479410/#c568005</id><title>In response to:The Red Tops</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/17/the_red_tops~479410/#c568005"/><author><name>morelearning</name></author><published>2006-01-17T14:03:22+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T14:03:22+01:00</updated><content type="html">What do they call the broadsheets now they've slimmed?&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Probably "This country's going to the dogs!" if you're bothered, but don't let my pathological proofreading suggest I haven't READ it.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Your "Handing in Guns at the Cop Shop" story - a "tad surreal" doesn't come close. There is quite a lot wrong with a country wherethat can happen, despite your assurances above.</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-11:/2006/01/11/spirituality_taxation_and_the_scandal_of~460729/#c541969</id><title>In response to:Spirituality, Taxation and the Scandal of the Bogus Jazz Journalist.</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/11/spirituality_taxation_and_the_scandal_of~460729/#c541969"/><author><name>HectorHamulec</name></author><published>2006-01-11T12:31:03+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T12:31:03+01:00</updated><content type="html">I saw some Jazz at a club called Tygmont in Warsaw the other week.  One chap was playing a trombone, another chap was impersonating a trombone.  It was fantastic.  &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Trombonist: Dante Luciani; Tombone impersonator: Andrzej Dąbrowski.  Dąbrowski sang from time to time as well.  It was lovely.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Kind regards.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Hector.</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-10:/2006/01/09/the_slow_death_of_an_empire_part_one_sai~455796/#c538442</id><title>In response to:The slow death of an empire. Part one- Sainsbury's.</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/09/the_slow_death_of_an_empire_part_one_sai~455796/#c538442"/><author><name>niallosullivan</name></author><published>2006-01-10T16:46:50+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T16:46:50+01:00</updated><content type="html">She probably had the Audi parked in disabled bay as well, I reckon. God job you didn't grass her up though, you'd've been drugged, slung into the back of a Chelsea tank (Range Rover) and carted off to some underground labour camp before someone could've whispered "Masonic human flesh eating upper middle class self service machine mafia conspiracy"</content></entry><entry><id>tag:niallosullivan.blog.co.uk,2006-01-09:/2006/01/09/the_slow_death_of_an_empire_part_one_sai~455796/#c535104</id><title>In response to:The slow death of an empire. Part one- Sainsbury's.</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://niallosullivan.blog.co.uk/2006/01/09/the_slow_death_of_an_empire_part_one_sai~455796/#c535104"/><author><name></name></author><published>2006-01-09T20:51:00+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T20:51:00+01:00</updated><content type="html">A Tesco round the corner from mother has this system and while stood there scanning my items I noticed the woman next to me was picking up two items from her basket, scanning one of them then putting them both in her bag.  No one questioned her, no one was watching her.  I wanted to do it but felt guilty!&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I finished just before she did so paid and left but waited outside thinking that security would get her on the way out.  She strolled through the exit, got into her car... an Audi A4!!... and drove off!!!&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
With tricks like that no wonder she can afford the A4!</content></entry></feed>
