I paid a visit to my cousin Tony today, he’s in jail for seven days for non payment of a fine he disagreed with, a man very high on principle, doesn’t say a lot but when he does he means what he says, I must tell you all about him some day. Anyway we faced each other through a square class window and after the hello how are you bit we just stared at each other wondering what to say next, then the weather and the health of his family, followed by more silence, now had the pair of us been in a pub it would be completely different, but thankfully they rang a bell to let you know when it was over, it reminded me of Skype.
On the way home it struck me that it would be handier for relatives to visit inmates on Skype in a designated room for prisoners with computers, instead of them having to drag their way into these miserable places, the visitor would be at home of course. But after I searched google I see it’s already being done elsewhere, a good idea in my opinion, only downside of it is they’ll probably cut the number of prison jobs, they are well paid jobs over here too.
I found this, it’s a few years old now and judging by some words an American piece I’m sure.
Will 'Skype for jail' replace in-person visits for inmates?
By Kathleen Hickey 2914
Video visitation of inmates – frequently billed as a “Skype for jail” – is gaining momentum and could replace in-person visits altogether, according to corrections officials from across the country
Many jails and penitentiaries offer the service, which lets people interact virtually with prisoners over the Internet. Inmates usually use a video visitation station located in their cell block, while visitors use either a corresponding station elsewhere in the facility or any computer with an Internet connection and webcam. For corrections officials, the benefits of virtual meetings – in addition to eliminating the sheer expense and logistics of managing in-person visits – run the gamut from reducing contraband and inmate violence to improving health care through telemedicine and enabling more visits for inmates. In addition, visitors such as attorneys, clergy, investigators, social workers, and family and friends can avoid the inconvenience and costs associated with scheduling, travel and the facility’s security requirements.
Likes like you’ll be in your alley if you ever land in the clink Gummy.
I hope none of you are having a meal, if so be warned, do not read this tale of the old west if you have a weak stomach.
I heard this in my youth, it was drawn out for a good 15 minutes in the country pub in Kerry where an old local was entertaining a group of us townies with his weird tales of when he was in America, I’m recalling it and shortening it as best I can.
The Ringo Kid was was living it up in Sal’s Saloon, a whore plonked on his knee and a bottle of whiskey in his hand, the piano man was tinkling the ivory and two toothless old cowhands were dancing on the sawdust planks.
Blotto the town drunk creeps into the bar and approaches Ringo for the price of a drink, Ringo lashes out with his spurred boot and catches Blotto in the chest. Blotto recovers and tries again. “Tell yah what” says Ringo “You see that spittoon in the corner? well you take a swallar of what’s in it and I’ll get yah a drink” Blotto is hesitant but his graving wins out, “OK Ringo” “Now you stop when I tell yah to stop, yah hear? says Ringo. “Sure thing Ringo, I ain’t gonna drink no more than I haveta”
Blotto lifts the spittoon and starts to drink. “Hold it thar” shouts Ringo, but Blotto continues to drink. Ringo jumps up from his chair, draws his sixgun and shoots into the air “I said hold it, asshole” But Blotto continued until the spittoon was empty, then he wiped his mouth with his dirty sleeve and turned to Ringo. “I tried to stop boss, honest I did, but I just couldn’t, yah see it was all in one lump”
A little known poet is Joe King from Ballyfaroff, but I believe his work is very popular in Antartica and Bala Dula, an Island in the South Pacific with a population of sixteen and that includes the King and Queen.
Probably his greatest work was the mini epic poem “The Block”, it only goes on for five days, Joe’s work is measured by how many days it takes the average reader to read them, that’s the reason they are so popular in the Antartica, settle in there with one of Joe’s poems and before you know it the harsh Antarctic Winter will be over, but don’t take on too much or you’ll be buried there.
To my mind the beauty of his work is it’s uniqueness, it has no beginning, he just starts off anywhere and continues on, and on, and on, Homer is only in the ha’penny place where Joe’s work in concerned. There is no end either, he just sort of branches off in another direction, and if it’s rhyming you want you’re on the wrong planet as Joe, he don’t believing in rhyming his poems, says it just gets in the way and breaks his “Flow”
In “The Block”, which starts off as a concrete block, and later becomes a cell block, a road block, a mental block, in fact it’s chock-a-block with blocks, he even devotes 23 pages describing all the different shades of concrete blocks, fascinating stuff.
I have been privileged to be anonymously sent two of Joe’s poems, they arrived in a truck yesterday and I had to get two sturdy neighbours to help me get them into the attic for safe keeping, his work is immortal, not least in the fact that one has to be immortal to finish reading them, I’ll just have to let my great grand children take over the reading for me when I pass on.
Incidentally old Joe was 110 when he finally died, he hadn’t finished what he said would be his best ever poem “My Infancy”, in it he starts off as an old man and works his way back, unfortunately he is only twenty in it when he died, pity he was only 110, given another 50 years or so and he might have made it back to his schooldays. God rest you Joe for your contribution to the literary world.:-)
Chunks, that is what it’s all about, Concrete comes in all sort of states, but, in block form the dimensions are always the same, although, the density differs, depending if you want strength or thermal insulation, medium “Density” is usually best, all round.
There’s a thing I never knew about concrete until I saw a tv program recently, it continues to harden for years, even underwater! Marvellous stuff ain’t it, I mean where would we be without it. It ought to be there with with the invention of the the wheel, what?
That’s correct Gummy, Leo Varadkar, God your on the ball, I hate all things political so I’m breaking me own rule here, this is just to briefly fill you in.
“Born on 18 January 1979 in the Rotunda Hospital in Parnell Square, Dublin, Varadkar is the youngest and only son of Ashok and Miriam Varadkar. His Mumbai-born Indian father had moved to England as a doctor in the 1960s. His Dungarvan-born mother met her future husband while working as a nurse in Slough. Later they lived in Leicester, where the eldest of their three children, Sophie, was born. The family then moved to India, but settled in Dublin in 1973 before their second child, Sonia, was born.” (wiki)
He was elected last night, he’s gay and it’s a first over here for a gay person to be the leader of the country (as far as we know that is, who knows who was gay in the old days when it was illegal). His party, Fine Gael, would not be my choice, they are the “Irish Tories”, right wing all the way, there’s a general election coming up soon and the smart money is on the Fianna Fail party to lead the next government in coalition with Sinn Fein, Fianna Fail are a bit more liberal. Labour was almost wiped off the political map at the last election so they won’t be in the reckoning. Anyway to me all modern politicians are just a shower of self interested greedy b……ds so I don’t bother to vote anymore.
“He took a 100 pounds of clay and he said hey listen, I’m gonna make a world today cause I know what’s missin”
You’re all old enough to remember that song, and God created woman, there’s not a lot of them American birds around today weighing in at 100 pounds, nor this side of the pond either, thanks to McDonalds, methinks when they bring out the remake of that song they’ll have to change it to 200+ pounds of clay, and as the good lord ain’t getting any younger he’ll be needing a fork lift to shift it.
Could it be that the great one got his materials mixed up and instead of using clay he used concrete?
The reason I ask this simple question is because my woman is very set in her ways and getting harder and tougher by the day.
I’m up early today because the wife and me are off to Killarney for a weeks break.
See you all soon, be good now.
Temple Shirley
Stowaway (1936)
You Gotta S-M-I-L-E To Be H-A-P-P-Y
Lyrics/Music Mack Gordon and Harry Revel
If something may upset you
Don’t ever let it get you down
Don’t wear a frown
If fortune should forsake you
Don’t ever let it make you sigh
Keep shooting high.
Be a crooner, not a groaner, never kick
Here’s a spelling lesson that will do the trick
You’ve got to S-M-I-L-E
To be H-A-Double-P-Y
Keep it in mind when you’re blue
It’s easy to spell and just as easy to do
You gotta S-M-I-L-E
It’s gonna help considerably.
Just keep your chin up and give it a try
And you’ll find silver lined clouds in the sky
You’ve gotta S-M-I-L-E
To be H-A-Double-P-Y
Ladies and gentlemen, just for fun
I’d like to sing this song again
The way it would be done, by…
Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor, and last but not least
That swingable pair: Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire
You’ve gotta S-M-I-L-E, Oh like the birdies,
Birdies birdies up in the trees…
Pretty flowers, April showers, my Mammy
Life is divine at a quarter to nine
You’ve simply gotta S-M-I-L-E
'Cos Potatoes are cheaper you see
I won’t spend a nickel
I won’t spend a sou
I just want to spend one hour with you
(kiss)(kiss)(kiss) S-M-I-L-E
now look here guys I don’t know if he mentioned it but Jem left me in charge whilst he is aware so I am changing a few rule around here!
No profanities
no mechanical stories
no weird poetry
no very long stories [there boring]
no smoking on site
no criticism of the church
AND definitely no criticism of the deputizing manager!
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it’s lonely here,
there’s no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that’s an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that’s left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I’ve seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won’t be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don’t know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I’m the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I’ve seen the nations rise and fall
I’ve heard their stories, heard them all
but love’s the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It’s over, it ain’t going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil’s riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder
Things are going to slide …
There’ll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There’ll be phantoms
There’ll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You’ll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin’ to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin’
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow
I’ve seen the future, baby:
it is murder
