Combat Paper
Last weekend, these delightful, young men were in the delightful, young town of Portadown for reasons that I do not fully understand.
The lovely Ms. Geraldine Boyle (who is both young and delightful) had gamely sought a group of veterans that could be convinced to cut the uniforms in which they so bravely served their nation/killed some other people, depending on one’s perspective. In Nireland, there is, of course, little room for both/and.
No group was forthcoming and, in the days that died before the deadline, it was forwarded that maybe some Union flag and tricolours could be used for the purpose instead. No less than that, the spectacle would be conducted in a marquee in the town centre.
The Arts Council distanced themselves from the event, as did several older women and a band of busybodies. But who wants to be near the Arts Council anyway?
Of course, part of the reason that no veterans groups were coming forth was that last Saturday was Veterans’ Day and the streets of Portadown were thronged by fatigued soldiers and the shop fronts guarded by senile sentries.
In the end, the event took place inside the Millennium Court and was viewed by exactly 9 people, all of us borrowed from a workshop in an adjacent room.
Sad times.
The lovely Ms. Geraldine Boyle (who is both young and delightful) had gamely sought a group of veterans that could be convinced to cut the uniforms in which they so bravely served their nation/killed some other people, depending on one’s perspective. In Nireland, there is, of course, little room for both/and.
No group was forthcoming and, in the days that died before the deadline, it was forwarded that maybe some Union flag and tricolours could be used for the purpose instead. No less than that, the spectacle would be conducted in a marquee in the town centre.
The Arts Council distanced themselves from the event, as did several older women and a band of busybodies. But who wants to be near the Arts Council anyway?
Of course, part of the reason that no veterans groups were coming forth was that last Saturday was Veterans’ Day and the streets of Portadown were thronged by fatigued soldiers and the shop fronts guarded by senile sentries.
In the end, the event took place inside the Millennium Court and was viewed by exactly 9 people, all of us borrowed from a workshop in an adjacent room.
Sad times.