
I’ve been trying to keep Skibbereen’s eagle eye off America in recent times because, well, it’s just been quite exhausting. But in the space of a single day last week, the country managed to distil its gun crisis into two grim headlines. In Utah, conservative activist Charlie Kirk was fatally shot during a campus event. Not long after, a 16-year-old opened fire at Evergreen High School in Colorado, injuring classmates before taking his own life.
Two shootings, each with separate motives and miles apart, yet the same relentless constant: guns are too easy to get and too deadly once in the wrong hands.
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The aftermath followed a familiar script: wall-to-wall coverage, calls for prayer, and partisan shouting matches, but serious talk about the sheer number of weapons in circulation was thin on the ground.
Meanwhile, back home, gardaí confirmed ‘vile and horrific threats’ against Simon Harris and his family. Ireland has always prided itself on being different but it’s troubling to see us slide in this direction.
We’ve seen similar horrible behaviour in West Cork in recent years with Holly Cairns being forced to close an office in Bandon.
We give out about our TDs as a national pastime, but maybe it’s time to value how unique it is to have such easy access to our representatives. The narrative that all TDs are in it to line their pockets is dated, yet it still has a strong hold on popular opinion, easily warped and manipulated on Facebook pages.
The companies who are enabling this creeping toxicity of online discourse are making billions in profits and doing little to address the effects on societies as a whole.
The fact that Ireland benefits to the tune of billions from these companies in corporate taxes means we are inextricably linked to this mess, whether we like it or not.
And with a big scrap upcoming between the EU and the US on the regulation of these platforms, it’s fair to say we may need to pick a side and stop acting the sleeveen.
Give me your tired
While bullets fly, Trump has been busy flogging his own shiny solution to America’s other crisis: immigration. He’s unveiled the ‘Gold Card’ scheme, and it’s about as subtle as you would expect from a man who is literally dripping in gold.
For the bargain price of a cool million dollars (plus processing fees, and who knows, other tariffs), wealthy foreigners can now buy their way into the Land of the Free like they’re purchasing a premium ticket to Taylor Swift. Gone are the days when you needed a Pulitzer or an Olympic medal to qualify for an EB-1 visa. Apparently, a bulging bank account is now an ‘extraordinary ability.’ If The Southern Star style guide allowed emojis, I would include the face vomiting one here.
What’s particularly galling is that this supposed donation goes straight to the Department of Commerce as an ‘unrestricted gift,’ which Trump says will ‘generally’ go toward paying down debt. A better GoFundMe for oligarchs has not been seen outside Red Square. We seem to be a long way from ‘Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…’
Unintended publicity
It’s not just who gets in the door that’s changing, it’s who gets to speak once they’re inside. Jimmy Kimmel, one of late-night’s most ardent Trump critics, was abruptly pulled off the air after mocking MAGA commentators for exploiting Charlie Kirk’s death. ABC affiliates refused to air the show unless he apologised, and even the FCC chair floated licence reviews. Kimmel has since been reinstalled but, boy oh boy…
I actually went to see the Kimmel Show in LA two years ago and these US late night shows are weird at the best of times.
They run like showbiz clockwork but the interviews are so transactional, and every question is a setup to a pre-rehearsed routine or sales pitch. The Tommy Tiernan Show it is not. And the ratings have slumped in recent years, mainly because you can catch the best bits on YouTube anyway and who gets to stay up to midnight watching talk shows in this economy?
By having such thin skin, it looks like Trump and his gang might have ironically pumped life back into this terrestrial TV has-been.
The Havana Helmet Club
On a marginally lighter note, here’s a recommendation for your ears this week. Sam Bungey and Jennifer Forde, the duo behind the brilliant West Cork podcast, are back, and this time they’ve swapped Schull for Havana.
Their new BBC Sounds series, Havana Helmet Club, dives into the mystery of the ‘sonic attacks’ that baffled American diplomats in Cuba. Strange noises, unexplained illnesses, whispers of espionage: it has all the intrigue of a Le Carré novel, except it actually happened.
If you listened to West Cork, you’ll know their style: meticulous reporting, an ear for atmosphere, and a knack for letting the story unfold like a fireside yarn.
This new project carries the same DNA but on a bigger stage. Where West Cork was intimate and local, Havana Helmet Club feels global and slippery, with geopolitics humming in the background. It’s on the list for this week.
After a week of American madness, a bit of Cuban mystery sounds exactly like what we all need.