I’M a big fan of the Wordle and Connections puzzles on The New York Times app and log in every day for a daily mental workout. But these mornings, you wouldn’t know what lead story will confront you over the morning coffee.
I am seriously thinking about jacking in the day job so I can dedicate more time to watching the all-consuming box set that is the final season of America.
Last week, it was Joe Biden having a number of senior moments in front of the nation as his campaign took a serious nosedive. The Democrats have been threatening to implode ever since, as they attempt to find a path forward that stands a chance of beating the Orange blimp.
Then there was the Supreme Court seeming to grant any President immunity for actions taken during the course of their leadership which feels like another brick out of the wall of democracy ahead of polling day.
All that would be enough for a year’s worth of drama and intrigue but these were merely warm-up acts for the shocking assassination attempt on Donald Trump last weekend which sent shockwaves around the world.
A 20-year-old man called Thomas Matthew Crooks fired multiple shots at the stage during Trump’s rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, grazing the former President’s ear and killing an innocent bystander.
You would hope that such an event would bring the political world in the USA to its senses, and that the opportunity is there for a calm and serious intervention on both sides.
Instead Trump, ever the political animal, seized the opportunity to maximise the moment, roaring ‘Fight! Fight!’ at an audience as blood streamed down his face. It’s a shocking image that will reverberate for many years to come.
Never has the country seemed so intent on self-harm, where the coarsened language and searing hatred on both sides of the political divide has now reached a feverish pitch that threatens to spin out of control entirely.
The event will likely have repercussions that we still can’t gauge.
It may soften calls for Biden to step aside in the race, especially if the assassination attempt can be held up as a natural result of the toxic atmosphere that Trump and his Maga acolytes have encouraged and exploited over recent years.
It will likely further inflame and incite Trump’s base and increase his chances of election in November.
Even his running mate, the former Hillbilly Elegy author JD Vance has put his survival down to divine intervention. The cult of Trump is bigger and stronger with Elon Musk and other right-wing billionaires adding more money to the campaign. It’s hard to take your eyes off it.
Of course, every butterfly that flaps its wings in the American suburbs will eventually have a knock-on effect here.
Ireland at the moment feels like an unusually sane, steady and sensible country (Monday night’s horrible Coolock events set to one side, of course) with money to burn and no sign of an obvious downturn to come. Of course, we all know how this can change in a heartbeat if Trump gets in. Unfortunately, this has just became a lot more likely.
It’s the big ticket items
I THOUGHT that my moving words about the semi-final in Croker in last week’s article would have at least gotten me a few leads for a ticket to the final. Not a sausage.
It seems that my position of power and great influence in the West Cork mainstream media has meant SFA when it comes down to the crunch – as regards tickets anyway.
I heard from Fachtna during the week, my fellow West Cork exile, that there is some hope that a second cousin of a neighbour of his, who used to go to college with one of the players’ sisters’ best friends, could have a lead on a pair of tickets for us. Do not give up hope yet, he said. But as we all know, it’s the hope that kills you.
The Spanish point is made
I WAS in Galway for the weekend at the Film Fleadh and watched England v Spain in the Euros in a small pub.
After seeing the semi-final in Sheffield amongst a jubilant English crowd it was strange to be back in Éire for the final. In Galway, everyone seemed to discover their inner conquistador and rejoice in our neighbours falling short again. I suppose there are some genuine links between Ireland and Spain going all the way back to the Armada, especially on the western seaboard. But it’s a bit of a stretch, lads.
We have far closer and more abundant links in Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester and London – but you wouldn’t know it last Saturday night as a small crowd whooped and hollered against the backdrop of valiant failure by Southgate’s charges.
I was genuinely happy to see them get to the final this year but I couldn’t quite summon up the same support when it came to the crunch on Saturday night. I know I need to be a better person but, as St Augustine famously said, ‘Lord, make me chaste – but not yet!’
He’s keepin’ it country
I SEE Nathan Carter was in jail. Yep, the country ‘n’ Irish superstar did his modern-day version of Folsom Prison Blues when he performed for staff in Castlerea last week for charity. The prisoners weren’t let in unfortunately, as the show was broadcast later through the Prisoner TV channel. A slightly watered down version of Johnny Cash so. Strange to see Carter behind bars all the same. Personally, I would have given him 10-15 years for his version of Wagon Wheel.
