Draft Messages

There's a few messages in the drafts folder of my phone. If I think of something that's either funny or memorable, or just notable, I save it there for future reference. Well, that's the background information on this and now the real post will begin and the like. Please take your seats.

"In the total song of life, the dissonant, cacophonous elements have to be accepted, transcended and absorbed into the dominant melody."
This particular quote/sentence was brought to my attention by a nun, of all people. The ex-head nun at the home in New Jersey of my great-aunt (a nun) had it in her head that I was somewhat intelligent when we were NJ in 2004. She printed this out on a green page for me. It's of interest and a nice little thing to be able to recite during the hardships of tedious conversations.

Ooh! Sorry, I thought I had something musical there but it was only a headache.
I have little idea where that came from or anything. Silly.

Zip, zip, mick up yer cocky. Self-explanatory.

Don't mess with me. I'm a Jew.
I don't know if this would sound funnier if it read "I'm a Catholic." Or maybe Baptist...

"Tall women surround me now and a gentleman passing us by. Who did we meet? A pretty young Communist of all people! She wore red and cleaned tables with efficiency and 'y'alright?'"
Dave and I were in the Cock one evening. Obviously some young one stood up from the next table and looked reasonably tall. I had only listened to Black Velvet Band earlier that day, hence the next bit. Well done.

Memo to self: auld ones must like the Evening Herald in the early afternoon. Isn't revamp a stupid word?
I was on my way into a lecture recently (it was probably last Thursday) and I passed two auld ones coming onto Shanowen Avenue, each with a copy of (presumably) that day's Evening Herald. It was only about half one in the day. It was as if it was a microcosm of society. The sight just made an impression on me. Or was it that I wanted something to do as I waited for the little green man to tell me it was safe to cross the road?

John B. Keane You're on for Next Sunday.
Somehow a short story that we read during the junior cycle of education came into my mind today. Some fella was wandering about a graveyard and the spirits asked him to play a game of hurling with them. At the end they said he was on for the following week too. Was he dead? Oh, oh! I think it was written by Mr. Keane. I could be wrong. It's a guess at the title too. Something like that. All my classmates will probably remember this short story on prompting the memory. The dreaded Scano classes. Lord bless us and save us.

Saving things as text messages is a great way to record things on the go. Things to do or write about or read or look up. I have a list of books, films and songs there too. Life: A User's Guide is one one the list. Unfortunately, I haven't came across it of yet, even in Hodges Figgis. Shock!

The other day I was knocking around the DCU library after lectures and stumbled across the fiction fiction. Before that point in time, I was unaware of its existence. Non-academic books that I would actually want to read. I saw a few names and I thought, oooh, I want to read that. I took out my phone and saved a few authors' names, which includes Roddy Doyle (I want to read something written by him, possible The Snapper) and Flann O'Brien (there's a brand new edition of The Third Policeman there that cried out READ ME).


The daily functions of the mobile telephone extends further until it's part and parcel and mickey of all people, not that it's not a neccesary piece of equipment to survive already. Giz yer foe-win.