One-Shot (08/03/09)

Last night, I stuck two fingers up to my cold by going to see Watchmen with Neil. Under normal circumstances, this post would've been a straightforward gush over the movie, why the wait was worth it, and how me not getting to play Rorschach was, ultimately, for the best. At the very least, it would've been a big thank you to everyone who voted yes in the Sexiest poll. Then I got home and heard the news. I spent a large portion of Friday evening discussing the finer points of "The Irish Question" with Christophe, so the timing couldn't have been worse. A decade with some good work undone in an instant, the cautious optimism held until moments before extinguished, one man's desire to leave his homeland strengthened.

Before Watchmen, we got the trailer for Fifty Dead Men Walking. If you haven't read this, the flick is the biopic of Martin McGartland, an IRA operative turned British informant. Me and Neil made the inevitable jokes about the movie. It was an easy target. The use of 'Alternative Ulster', the bit where the cop said "Where are yiz goin lads?", the treatment of our blood-soaked past as the backdrop for a "pulse-pounding thriller" or whatever the blurbs said. The ability to laugh through despair comes pretty easy to us here.

Time was, yesterday's tragedy would've been behind me pretty quickly. That's what years of unfortunate practice yields. The wound still feels too raw to see things clearly, but I'm less sure, this time. I keep thinking about it, feeling sorry for the families, wishing for the embarrassment and heartache to end. Moreover, I get the impression this level of apathy might extend beyond my door.

I know I go on a bit about home - sometimes with tongue firmly in cheek - but that's what patriots do. I make no apologies for that. One line from last night stands out more than anything regarding the events at Massereene; "An attack on one is an attack on all of us." Some of us would do well to keep that in mind.