Eileen
Ivers fiddles around, up and down
By Jason Kuban
A long, sad note cries from her blue violin, slicing through the heat
like a sword through velvet. The vigor of Eileen Ivers and her band, Immigrant
Soul, pulls her crowd together like a lighthouse summoning a wayward fleet.
[More]
Life on
the Fleadh Road
By Larry Kirwan
Greetings from the road. We're now well into
the the second week of the American Fleadh tour. I'm writing this while
moving on to Buffalo. It's been an intense and whirlwind-experience. [More]
The Abject
Missioner, Confirmation and the Need for Resolve
By Ted Crowley
That night, donkey's years ago, in a tiny village in the Wicklow mountains,
the missioner, behind the bar, pulled one of the best pints of Guinness
I've ever tasted. Otherwise, the pub was deserted, apart from my friend
and I and its chastened publican; on a bar stool wedged against the door,
to keep the regulars out. [More]
Down
into the Depths of Ireland's Rockbound Coast
By Pól Ó Conghaile
Irish American Post Dublin Bureau
Over Baltimore Harbor, the sun is lobster pink. "Red sky at night,
shepherd's delight," a young man tells a pretty Dutch tourist at the bar.
"Red sky in the morning, sailor takes warning. That's what they say around
here. Can I buy you a drink?" [More]
Flanagan's
Wake
The Miramar Theatre presents this hilarious interactive Irish comedy.
(advertisement) [More]
The
Census Taker
A short story by Michael Corrigan
They sat in the Kennedy Farmhouse, a bright fire burning. Mr. Cronen,
the census taker, thought the farm to be better than most. Cronen wore
gold rimmed spectacles and had a red face with a gray mustache. His job
had given him some insight into the Irish Catholic farmers who lived in
the Sligo-Mayo counties; all of them survived on rocky soil and fed large
families.[More]
O'Connor
Looks to Past to Capture Readers in Star of the Sea
By Peter Schmidtke
A disfigured shape stares at his crooked shadow on the worn deck of
a creaky schooner bound for America in 1847. With a moldy bible and a face
contorted with affliction, Pius Mulvey paces back and forth, bow to stern,
stern to bow.[More]
Cowboy
Singer Murphey Touches on Gaelic Roots
By Martin Hintz
Singer Michael Martin Murphey was sitting on his front porch, looking
out over the rolling hills around Westby, Wis. His electrical power was
off, as line crew worked in the valley below his house. Only the phones
were operating and a bulldozer's rumble could be heard in the background
as he talked about cowboys, music, the Irish and horses.[More]
Northern
Ireland; Truth Be Told
By Michael Cummings
What is truth? Philosophers have pondered that question for centuries.
Lord Northcliffe a British newspaper baron once remarked, "The truth is
what someone else didn't want you to know, everything else is advertising."
While truth is not exactly the coin of the realm in journalism, it is making
a comeback.[More]
Brother
Keeps It All in a Family
By Adam Friedrich
It was hard to maneuver through the near capacity crowd at Milwaukee's
Shank Hall on a recent mild night. Fans had gathered long before Brother
was set to take the stage. Everyone was sipping drinks and anxiously awaiting
the headliners. Fans were so diverse, that chain wallets brushed up against
Coach purses and cell phones on dress slacks mingled with bandanas on faded
jeans.[More]
Photos
Capture Irish Town Life
For 35 years Irish photographer John Minihan revisited and recorded
scenes from his hometown of Athy in Co. Kildare, Ireland. An exhibit of
his original photographic silver prints from Athy has been displayed from
June 3 to July 15 at the Artspace Gallery on the second floor of Terrence
Murphy Hall, 1000 LaSalle Ave., Minneapolis.[More]
More
Homesick Than Seasick
By Adam Friedrich
Hugo Hamilton was not allowed to speak English growing up. This served
as an inspiration and motivation for one of Ireland's most acclaimed fiction
writers to begin writing.[More]
Gritty
'Shutter Island' the Latest Thriller from Dennis Lehane
By Peter Schmidtke
U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels can't help but feel cagey as he stares at
the bare cement walls of the closet-sized cubicle at Ashcliffe, a hospital
for the criminally insane on Shutter Island off Boston Harbor. It's the
early 1950s, and Daniels and his new partner have been sent to the island
to track down a murderess who escaped from the room in question, an assignment
that gives the two marshals the jitters.[More]
The
Lights That Will Never Go Out
By Gerard McDonagh
One night recently, I decided to take a walk. It was a dry, calm night,
a welcome respite from the endless rain. Above me the stars were twinkling
in their own galaxies, whilst all along the road, the windows of the new
houses were lit up. Then I got a sudden urge.[More]
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