For me, the Bali bombings of October 2002 sealed the deal. The attack killed 202 people (including 88 Australians, 38 Indonesians, 23 Britons, and people of more than 20 other nationalities). A further 209 people were injured. By the end of the year I knew that, yes, indeed, the world had changed and that there would be no going back. More
Letters From Quotidia Episode 73 A World of Pain
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Letters From Quotidia Postcards Edition 18
Covers of the song, The Irish Rover, stretch across more than fifty years and, I would imagine, will continue fifty years and more, into the future.More
Letters From Quotidia Postcards Edition 18
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Letters From Quotidia Episode 72 No Surrender
In my own private pantheon, or it may just be Elysium, it will come as no surprise that it is populated with poets, composers, painters, dramatists, novelists, sculptors, and ordinary people. I include cartoonists in this exalted company- I want to pay tribute to Ron Cobb here; a survivor from the counter-culture of America in the ‘sixties (although, it seems a tautology to use counter-culture and cartoonist in the same sentence). Ron passed away on 21 September 2021. Sadly missed.More
Letters From Quotidia Episode 72 No Surrender
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Letters From Quotidia Episode 71 The Emperor of Ice Cream
...alien super-beings visiting the nuclear wasteland of planet Earth... resurrect a person. Gaining sentience and, blind at first, the man sings hosannas for the fulfillment of the old Promise. Then, as the scales fall from his eyes, he sees the merciless orbs of the aliens who, having extracted the information they wanted, mow him down with their ray-guns and move on to the next phase of their exploration.More
Letters From Quotidia Episode 71 The Emperor of Ice Cream
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Letters From Quotidia Episode 70 The Dispossessed
Harried we were, and spent,/broken and falling,/ere as the cranes we went,/crying and calling.//Summer shall see the bird/backward returning;/never shall there be heard/those, who went yearning.//Emptied of us the land;/ghostly our going;/fallen like spears the hand/dropped in the throwing./We are the lost who went,/like the cranes, crying;/hunted, lonely and spent/broken and dying. Extract from poem by Mary GilmoreMore
Letters From Quotidia Episode 70 The Dispossessed
For lovers of music, poetry, and the Crack-that most Irish of nouns. Quotidia is that space, that place, where ordinary people lead ordinary lives. But where, from time to time, they encounter the extraordinary.
South Africa