Le James Joyce

I didn't know what to write about today. Truth be told it's so long since I sat down to type something I've got out of the way of it. I was here this morning trying to think of something but soon gave up, jumped in my car, and drove to Donegal instead.

As I drove I listened to the radio - and suddenly I was bombarded by a barrage of potential topics. They were coming at me so fast I knew I'd only be able to recall a small sample by the time I got home. Here are just a few:

1. The eccentricities of Donegal drivers and the bizarre methods they employ getting from A to B. In particular the invisible middle lane where they get to practice playing chicken with traffic coming from the other direction.

2. The funeral of the late opera singer Luciano Pavarotti in Modena. The way he was one of the very few singers who crossed the divide between opera and mainstream, and the way he transcended cultures with a graceful ease. And yet, listening to the tributes on the radio, you'd have thought he only ever sang one song, entitled 'that one he did for Italia 90.' Apparently Nessun Dorma is tough to remember for the average soccer fan.

He lived the songs, his opera was a great mash of joy and sadness; surreal and earthy at the same time; a great volcano of a man who sang fire but spilled over with a love of life in all its complexity, a great and generous friend.Bono

3. Osama Bin Laden's latest change of image; and why the UK/US intelligence agencies weren't watching 'This Morning' when the make over was taking place. They should bring Philip Schofield and Fern Britton in for some very intensive questioning - preferably in Guantanamo Bay.

4. Moira Cameron becoming the first woman ever to work as a Beefeater at the Tower of London - and the obvious weakness women have when undertaking the role - the inability to face forward when required... and quite possibly grow facial hair.

5. The Rev Ian Paisley announcing today that he wasn't going to stand for re-election as moderator of the Free Presbyterian Church. Now, obviously, one man does not a church make, but when I picture the Free Ps I tend to think of Big Ian at the helm - it will be odd not making that connection. Maybe this should be the topic I choose to write about in the blog, I usually have plenty to say on the good doctor, he's always good for a bit of religious/political/cultural satire - yet oddly I have nothing more to say - I'm speechless. Really speechless.

No, the topic I chose to comment on occurred to me while listening to the build up for the New Zealand v Italy match in the Rugby World Cup. I'm not sure of all the details as I missed the start of the item (my attention was momentarily concentrated on attempting to swerve in order to avoid a battered Renault flailing down the middle of the road) but John Inverdale seemed to be interviewing an English Rugby fan (ex player maybe?) who was travelling round France watching the various matches. He had been in Paris for the France v Argentina game. He told Inverdale that he watched it in the James Joyce Pub. Apparently James Joyce, he informed us, "was some kind of French Philosopher."

Hmm. Yes, some kind of.

Ah, the ignorant english. Très amusant.