The old writing takes you places sometimes. Weird and wonderful sometimes too. I've been trying to brush up on some comedy writing and try not to play for laughs at the same time. I've seen it done before and done well . But it's rare. It either comes off or it fails and I guess that's why a lot of comedies find it hard to get developed, never mind Greenlight.
For me they do it best across the water, though we did have a few genius's of our own along the way too. Funny, they mostly ended up over there too.
I wonder could we get some funding to seize the technological day that is in it and spread our wings a little bit ourselves. There has been some good comedy coming out of the West in recent years... of Ireland that is.
I was having a little think earlier. Everyone seems rightly stressed out lately but their was a buzz about the place in the afternoon as the sun returned to bronze us all a little bit more. Even the big-wigs, with the exception of Enda Kenny seem fraught with worry. If they are, then what chance for we, the people the game rotates about.
Enda's playing The daddy role and it suits him. There's not much more you can do really, when others are running the show. Some in the media are talking about a longer term deal with the IMF and well, it does seem practical when one considers the whole lot is going down the Danube. Let's say we pay off all the debts, yes, I hear you cry, but bare with Enda's thoughts for a minute.
Let's say we pay them off over a term of a hundred years. Sure we're friends with them all. We're going no-where. We took in criminals after the war and those Shannon Stopovers? A nice long drawn out return to economic stability and take the stress out of society for a generation or a hundred. And as Enda ponders if he is some saviour, he ponders further as his personal photographer captures the possible great moment in history, hand-on-chin gaze out on to The White House lawn.
Sorry did I say White House. I meant, what's it called, oh let's just call it Farmleigh. It may as well be used for something.
Back to the ponder. Enda wonders if the idealistic manner in which he will present his life mission to the UN, in a groundbreaking all-time YouTube topping viral speech will forever have him furrowed as one of the crazies, or would they simply just Jerry McGuire him. He knew that game. They'd say he'd lost it. Perhaps it was better to be safe than sorry.
And as the day hit the dawn, so too the notion that he too could stand tall. He wrote a note in his diary to reflect on that night in his memoirs and sent his photographer home. Not to be published until my end.
As he made his way out for breakfast he stumbled across another thought but left it there to enjoy eggs on toast.
'It's good to the daddy', he thought. 'At least for another day.'