It is weird to think of Bilbao as home, also, this blog is about, what? Two months late? Awesome.
So I got to Dublin. Somehow… I think it was by train.
The trains are super easy to figure out in Ireland.
And then I was walking around in Ireland and saw a Yeats Museum Display on this Library.
I went to check it out. It was pretty legit.
I had know that the guy wrote some play-stuff things, but I didn’t realize that the guy basically did *exactly* the sort of thing I want to do with starting a politically (well social-philosophically for me) oriented theatre that does new works.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with this, but…
Strike a resemblance of a certain pishkite you might know?
I’m just sayin’.
Anyhow the Yeats Museum was alright, and there was this “track your family” thing in another part of the library, but that’s only for Irish families with Irish names and a good idea of the religion of the family. But I grabbed some paperwork anyhow.
Or, as we say in proper English (like I speak proper English. Have we decided on a sarcasm punctuation yet?) “Jail.”
So there’s this Jail thing in Dublin, and it’s a big deal, and it’s got all these facts that I’m sure I would have remembered if I wasn’t currently writing this blog on the 26th of February. Tell you what, here’s a link to the Wikipedia page, because I’m just gunna swipe my info. From there anyhow.
So… here’s some pictures of this place.
Jeremy Bentham and his belief in Pleasure vs Pain.
John Howard, and his system of Sin vs. Penitence.
There was a door there methinks.
More Things to look at with your eyes!
SUN!!!!!!! Don't worry, I didn't melt!
Okay, so this guy. This guy had a pretty rough going out. Not only was he drawn and quartered, but he was also made to commit marriage not a few hours, possibly minutes before his death sentence was carried out.
Beware the risen people
that have harried and held, ye that have bullied and bribed.
You're not leaving any time soon.
Cool door-hole shot. I like it at least.
Stairs! The horror!
Uhm... no. I totally didn't eat this in a place of solitude and travesty, where the memory of valiant men died brutally at the hands of heir oppressors. They definately don't give you the creme for free either, and I totally didn't take advantage of that scrumptious fact. Nope. Nothing but respect from this Kishpike.
5 minutes in my mind was saying “Why do I keep subjecting myself to this shit?”
Some of the exhibits were interesting, I guess, but none of them were really “art.”
But this isn’t a “What a Kishpike Thinks Art is” blog, it’s a travel blog.
Photos prohibited inside, and I wouldn’t want to waste the space on my computer anyhow.
After the museum my feet were so sore and body so crapped out I wandered towards the airport, and promptly slept in a chair until I was allowed to board my flight home.
Yay Ireland Trip!
~Postcards will be late. Very late. They may even arrive after me, this semester is way more busy than I suspected.
~ Ireland is fucking cold. Bring a real coat, and a backup scarf.
~ Hitchhiking is best done during daylight hours and with a sign.
~ There are far less cute Irish boys than you are (I was) hoping.
~ I never did ask what they call Coffee and Whiskey out there.
2 Scarfs ("cowboy" style)
1 reflective vest
1 bit of metal on a belt (via find weapon ability)
1 Complete road atlas of Ireland
1 Watch sans battery
1 The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes
1 Bent nail (Blessing)
1 Moonstone (Blessing)
1 Amethyst (Blessing)
1 neat little ring thing.
And a picture of the entrance to the park that holds the Modern "art" museum.
That's right. "Art" in quotations. We all know my opinion here.