SOME months go on for what seem like years and then other months fly by like a week. Every single person I have met in the last week has uttered some version of the sentiment ‘how in the hell is it December already?’
Bet you are feeling it too. Maybe it’s the nights slowly drawing in and slowly bullying away the bright afternoons. Maybe it’s the surreal weather, going from unseasonably warm to freezing, in the click of a finger, with a nasty little storm thrown into the mix for good measure. Maybe it’s all the strange politics – from American carnage to our weird little Irish election where it seems impossible to figure out who on earth to vote for.
It could also be the fact that Christmas capitalism arrives earlier and earlier each year, squashing November between the sugar rush of Halloween and the dreaded Twelve Pubs of Christmas season.
This year is probably an exception for us, in any case, seeing as we are out of our house getting work done until what will probably be early spring, so we don’t know whether we are coming or going, to be honest.
I’m trying to get into the Christmas cheer, but I’m struggling. The kids are at the perfect age for it and I know I will pine for these years in a very short time. But it seems that no matter how many audiobooks and podcasts I ingest about the importance of living in the moment, and being thankful for what I have, the more agitated and distracted I feel in these unsettling times.
But every day offers the promise of a new morning and so I’ve spent these last few days pulling back on work and vowing that December will be more mindful, intentional and … well, thankful. Let’s all give it a whirl, shall we?
Boxing – but not cleverly
ONE thing to be thankful for is the fact that I’m not Mike Tyson, who took part in a global streaming event, dressed up as a boxing match, last week. I’m talking about his ‘fight’ against YouTuber turned boxer Jake Paul at the AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, which was streamed globally to an audience of 65m people on Netflix.They all tuned in to see the 27-year-old influencer beat the head off the 58-year old former undisputed heavyweight world champion, in another strange example of how the media landscape has changed.
Whether it was a coup created by genius execs, or a case of elder abuse, is up for debate. What isn’t in doubt is that anything seems to pass as entertainment these days, in this strange world of memes, Trump and post-truth.
It was no coincidence that the Irish media was filled with the ugliness and violence of the Conor McGregor civil trial at the same time.
The same coarseness and general lack of class seems to loom large here in Ireland too, alive and kicking in the dark corners of the online manosphere, where misguided young idiots are influenced by thugs and charlatans.
Anyone raising a daughter in this country should be concerned about the serious growth of this all toxic nonsense. And anyone raising a son should sit them down for a proper conversation about consent and respect for women.
The battle of the blands
THERE were other unlikely battles taking place this week, with Ed Sheeran in the red corner and none other than Sir Bob Geldof in the blue.
Yes, Sheeran took to social media to tell fans he wasn’t happy that his voice was being used on a new version of Do They Know It’s Christmas.
Sheeran shared a statement by Ghanaian-British musician Fuse ODG, saying the song ‘dehumanised Africans and destroyed our pride and identity in the name of ‘charity’.
Sir Bob was none too pleased who came out all guns blazing.
‘There are 600m hungry people in the world — 300m are in Africa. We wish it were other, but it is not. We can help some of them. That’s what we will continue to do,’ he said. Now there’s a scrap I would actually watch on Netflix – literal battle of the bands, anyone?
Bitten by the bug
I READ about an ingenious, if frankly weird, way of delivering vaccines this week. Instead of having to worry about refrigerated supply chains and having medical staff deliver injections to patients, mosquitos have been used to deliver a malaria vaccine rather than the disease itself.
The trial was conducted by the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine who somehow got volunteers to allow themselves to be bitten up to fifty times by mozzies, in what seems like a repeat of my summer holiday in France this year.
It turns out 90% of the test group developed immunity to the disease – which is just genius if you ask me.
