20.4.25 - Easter rising

It has been a crazy ol time. I know I was not looking forward to travelling. I used to love travelling, but now, not so much.

I am now in the airport Escape lounge. An ironically named place. I do not know why airport departure lounges cannot be less inhospitable. I have always found them reprehensible. Prehensile. The buzzing lights, the scent of synthetic perfumes which people are told are desireable so that they saturate themselves in it and then sit next to you on planes, the awful stalls - the 'designer' brands which we now know come from sweat shops in China - the usual - in the higher ended airports Gucci, Ferragamo, LV, whatever, the electronics store, apparently everyone wants to buy some kind of electronic when they are about to go on holiday, the aforementioned perfumes, the alcohol, the local thing - in Ireland it is mugs covered in sheep, shamrocks and leprechauns -, the bookstore, cos apparently people still read, which also sell sweet because that is what you want to give your child before it gets into a sealed metal tube for several hours, the neck pillows, the sunglasses - for some reason people will choose to buy sunglasses at the airport, the shrimp and oyster bar which also sells booze and the Burger King and airport caf, which also includes a pub-like type place.

Airport lounges like this one are now too busy. They're kind of like the Ivy on a Thursday. The same clinking and chatting and perfuming. I mean I'm here too, so I can barely say anything.

To make it worth your while, you should try and drink, in alcohol, what you would spend outside. In this case it would be 4 drinks... and eat what you can - which would be one breakfast. Also if you have 3 espressos, this WILL MAKE your day.

I have two hours left, so i can have at least five more of this godawful Pinot.

I am now reading the Táin - finally. The Ciaran Caron translation. I read The Hound of Ulster this year with the class and as a result I know the Táin inside and out. There are bits which have been left out in the Sutcliff version, but barely really. I do think though that the Táin is not so much a battle but the birth of the human consciousness, as depicted in Cuchulainn. Also having learnt Irish for the past year and a bit, I am able to read all the Irish names and place names. Knowing a language 100% attaches you closer to a place. It is incredibly profound. Like the secrets are unlocked. I think this is why I have always found the Chinese experience in Singapore completely baffling. My own allegiance to South East Asis is deeply rooted in Peranakan culture. This did prepare me for Ireland - I have always and will always be a stranger on the land. I never ever felt connected with Lee Kuan Yew's idea of Singapore which ultimately was a neocolonial idea of what life would be like. He did what he had to, but Singapore, as it is conceived, has painted itself into a corner, the same way the US has done the same. For some reason these people have chosen the evolution which is the most precarious. Which has the most number of gambles. I think the next text I will read is the epic of Finn McChuaill. 

He is a trickster... I think I will enjoy him. 

The Táin was written in the last age of the bull. Or at least depicts it. any kind of dating places it at the start of the last millennia. 

The age of the bull, which is Taurus was one of machismo and sacrifice. In many ways, we kind of still are living in the tail end of that. I wonder what this new millennia is the age of. Siuban keeps saying its the age of Aquarius - the Eagle. We are transforming - our consciousness is becoming more cerebral. We are becoming more detatached.

It is interesting the creatures which he dueling shepherds turn into. I did not know that story. Honestly, there is still so much of Irish mythology I know nothing about. I should listen to the Irish mythology podcast.