Boy 'tried to eat toy sandwiches'
Teenager 'beat toddler to death'
Man climbs 200ft wheel attraction
Teacher raped by boy wins damages
Taxi driver rapes male passenger
The above headlines are all real. Who'd have thought it?
I was sitting in a bar facing the Belfast Eye (the 200ft wheel attraction) when there was a minor commotion at the windows, and my friend John said "What's going on?", and we proceeded to figure out what was wrong.
A guy said "There's a guy on the top of the wheel!". We drank more. He didn't come down. We went outside. A very drunk guy didn't drink more. He was carried to a bench next to an improvised police cordon below the wheel. Then the police went away. The guy on top of the wheel still didn't budge.
The drunk guy, helpless, was hugged and posed beside for photos by grinning Belfast delinquents, as if he was a Guantanamo detainee about to be happy-slapped. Other Belfast teenagers looked on, silent and horrified. A guy who tried to help was called a dick. The guy on top of the wheel didn't budge.
And then, a couple of hours later, the guy on the wheel came down, and the world went back to normal.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Normal
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Gin and tonic
In honour of the first properly summery day Belfast has had this year. Warm air, no wind, gentle sounds of traffic and birdsong in the background... and very, very cold Gordon's and tonic water. Perfect.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Singing ringing tree
This is one of a series of hilltop sculptures, collectively titled Panopticons, in Lancashire, England. The others are Atom, Colourfields, and Halo. They are based on the cohesive idea of the panopticon, a type of building which would allow an observer inside in a single place to observe all rooms.
The concept of panopticons as buildings was originally applied to prison design (dreamt up by the now stuffed Jeremy Bentham). How fortunate that it has been conquered by such lightness.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Cave Hill Rescue
My feet hurt. Giles was out of breath. So we stepped to the side of the steep path, through the soft, springy mixture of soil and dry leaves and wild garlic.
The helicopter, which had been hovering over this area since we had set out from Giles's front door, made it troublesome to hear sounds at a distance, and it soon emerged that the woman who appeared to sit in the gentle valley below the path was yelling for our attention. She had fallen from far above; she needed help; she had called for the helicopter; could we help?
Giles got his phone out and wandered uphill to call mountain rescue. I stayed close to the woman and waved and waved, with big sweeping gestures, at the helicopter, which moved more closely overhead.
Soon Giles was back, with a policeman in tow. And what was her name? Louise, she said. She was very sorry - she had been beaten black and blue since she was six - she needed a light - were we going to arrest her? She had fallen. Honest. Not a one of them cared. Not a one. She was serving her suspended sentence, too, and being good. She couldn't walk. She needed help.
And the policeman and I helped her up, his radio burbled for a while below his tired sunlit face, and he helped her away as the helicopter, above, gradually moved downhill.
We gradually moved uphill towards the summit.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Storm - Dark - LIGHT - Storm - Dark
Lighthouses! Lots of them! Original impetus here, and a big database here, another here, and a mystery here. Just so you know.






