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Green usually means go, right? When the traffic lights turn green it signals the driver to proceed. But no, said our government, green means only proceed in essential circumstances. Such choices of language in the government's communication of the so-called green list  made the ensuing confusion  entirely predictable. From Thursday of last week, the travel advice was changed, permitting travel to green list countries provided "normal precautions" were taken. This was a sensible move. Statistically-speaking you are less likely to have COVID-19 in countries such as Greece, Lithiuania and Malta than in Ireland. I sense that Leo Varakdar in his new position as Tanaiste is experiencing a degree of schadenfreude, peering over at the challenges ahead of the older-but-not-necessarily-wiser Taoiseach Michael Martin. In spite of the catastrophic levels of nursing home deaths , he was widely considered to have provided the strong and stable leadership required to steer Ireland th

Irish music has gone through somewhat of a renaissance over the past number of years. With an influx of new Irish voices, we have a diversity of genres in Irish music. No longer is this country’s repertoire limited to folk and rock. I was fortunate to have experienced this revolution first hand. From 2017-2018 I was presenting a Sunday night Irish music show on FM104 called the Open Mic. The producer and I always made a concerted effort to have diversity on each show, both in terms of gender and genres. From the hip-hop beats of Soule and Erika Cody to the blues of Wyvern Lingo and the experimental jazzy riffs of BARQ. It was a pleasure to hear all of these artists perform live. Also – it was a rare luxury to have a degree of control over what songs were played and what acts were interviewed. Usually decisions about the music are made by a programme director. This week, publicist Linda Coogan Byrne published research on the percentage of Irish female musicians played by

We’re approaching the US Presidential Election and a maelstrom of vitriol. In the red corner, a proto facist and the first President to adopt a  govern-by-tweet  approach. In the blue corner, a seasoned operative but one who is gaffe-prone and uncharismatic. This is in the midst of an impending economic recession, low oil prices which have decimated the Texas shale industry, pent-up anger and frustration from the COVID lockdown and a culture war which has emerged from the Black Lives Matter movement and the racist killing of George Floyd. 2016 was a year which changed the course of history. Trump was elected, the UK voted in favour of Brexit and as the Presidential race began in France, the vitriolic, anti-immigrant National Front stormed ahead. Cambridge Analytica mined the data of thousands of people, playing into the psychological vulnerabilities of unsure voters. We realised the fragility of democracy as it is played out via social media. Facebook is no longer a

Johnathan Swift described experiencing satire as peering through a glass in which the beholder discovers everyone’s face but their own. It is only palatable to the beholder, he suggested, because they will not be offended if they fail to see themselves in it. I partially disagree with this. Satire is by design, uncomfortable to behold. While it is not offensive for offense’s sake, it unnerves us with its piercing and unrelenting truth, forcing us to confront the aspects of our lives we’d rather ignore. Satire, done well, is great. Good satire casts a mirror on society, letting us to reflect on our prejudices, misconceptions and the outrageous behaviour of those we hold dear. There’s dual emotions – on one level we are falling off the couch with laughter at the tropes of Sacha Baron-Cohen’s Borat . On another level, we wince and cringe at the candid Texan agreeing with Borat’s suggestion that gay people, or “fairies”, should be taken away and killed. While satire makes us l

The extraordinary din enveloped a tube station during rush hour. Commuters are usually quiet and passive, barely even mustering the energy to make eye contact with each other. This day they were a united front up against a group of Extinction Rebellion (XR) climate change protestors who were parading on the roof of a tram, preventing it from moving.  This caused huge delays to commuters, going about their errands and trying to get to work. The very people who should have been commended for choosing to use relatively eco-friendly public transport over their carbon-intensive cars were made feel ashamed and annoyed by climate change protestors. This irony wasn't lost on most people. They got loads of publicity for their cause , say the XR defenders. Well for sure they did, but I think the media narrative portrayed them as villains, not heroes in this story. Also, for the last week we haven't been having conversations about the substantive issue of climate change, instead about th

Why does every radio station play the same music?   Given my occupation, I'm regularly asked naive questions about radio from lay people:  Has anyone ever overheard you in conversation and interjected 'I recognise your voice'?  and Can you get me free tickets to X gig/festival?  are classics. The respective answers are 'No... don't be ridiculous'; and 'No... don't be ridiculous'. There is one question however which comes up regularly enough and I think it's important that it is being asked. Why does every station seem to play music from the likes of Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, Adele and Pink? Have they found the golden formula for pop music? Perhaps they have, but here's the thing. Most music radio stations in Ireland have what's known as an Adult Contemporary format . This was imported from America in the 1980s when aggressive heavy metal and crude rap were emerging as genres, but the soccer moms and 9-5 office workers wanted a more pre