Review by Spiggles

Oh! And OH!

Never had i felt such an uncontrolled rush of indulgence! I gazed over the sea of bald patches, combovers and creeping hairlines and my heart thumped a hidden warmth! It was as if each one had been varnished with a coat of Ronseal High Gloss laquer. I could imagine licking each one and sucking the dying follicles of the surrounding hairs. I wanted to dress each polished globe with a hat or even hats, teasing myself with each tilt, eventually grabbing them by the ears and running my sweaty fingers all over the surface - at once massaging a little too roughly and gently caressing the aggrivated skin.

OH!

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Review by Pi

The importance of Hildebrand to his children was negligible. They barely noticed him at all, nor should they, he hadn’t seen them since he’d left to open a beach bar, back when they were three and four, and the last thing he ever said to them was not to trust their mother, ’she’s a bitch’ and to ‘keep an eye on your money ‘round her’.

No, they had never really thought of him at all, except when their mom cried or shouted. They associated that with him. Not that it was related to him at all, she hardly thought of him either, but she was rather free with her emotions. Her own mother had told her that if you felt like crying you should, or it would twist your head, and as such she cried when she felt at all sad and laughed when happy. It made people wary around her, she appeared volatile but was really just honest.

Indeed Hildebrand barely remembered he was ever married, or that twice he had tried to persuade his wife that they weren’t ready for a child and twice she had quietly said it was her decision, and loved him a little less. But then this story isn’t about them next door, and him what used to live there. But it is about their garden.

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Review by Pi

Oh my God! Have you heard? They have sold the fucking Ilac Centre. Some shit head company have bought the jewel in the crown of Dublin. Like a beautiful golden crown nestling in a dirty matted hair.

Bequothed to the city by the illustrious Count Reginald von Clovis, the Ilac center was originally designed to host the great Peace conference of 1923. Following the League of Nations inspection, however, it was felt that the Centre was too glamorous a venue and the conference was moved to New York. As a direct result of this the USSR pulled out. I do not blame them.

Following a sell out show in both the west end of London and Broadway, the Ilac returned to its humble routes in Dublin. For years the Ilac was reputed to be not only the inspirational character behind the Great Gatsby but also the Supertramp song, You’re So Vain.

In recent years the Ilac has released a string of hit singles, following its massive win in 1998 Eurovision, and is due to go on tour later this year to support the release of a greatest hits album.

Review by Pi

A real stunner of a building, it immediately conjures images of the earlypostbrutalist structures of the Russian and Bangalorian School. It sits squat like a toad, a forlorn military bunker ripped to eye from the cold brown embrace. Luck are those who work within, who study there. The bare concrete, so bravely unadorned, upon every floor, ceiling and wall, provide the perfect gray dream upon which the mindscapes of future knowledge can be constructed. Beautifully drawn in the mourning pallet of the blind, the arts block is a stunning fuck you to those who think Dublin is ugly.