Stephen Donnelly emerged on the national scene in 2011 as a white-hot ball of suburban middle class indignation. With his shiny suits and technocratic, apolitical style, he won followers for his ability to give our ruinous old establishment a bougie-common sensical dressing down. A couple of years would pass where he let his ego lap it up, before gradually the sheen started to come off. He notably voted for the … Read More
The shop was underground, a cavernous space of exclusivity for the chosen few who trail home from the office, dressed in the kind of suit that a culchie would be garbed in for their funeral. There was a corpse like quality to the beings that haunted the isles. Each one a spectre of loneliness, absorbed in haute-cuisine meals for one – the antithesis of Sarah’s idea of what a meal … Read More
People don’t get corrupted but they do get deceived. The gombeen has been transformed from the days of collecting the landlord’s rent to now sowing regime illusions. The monster propaganda machine (RRR T EEEE!!) has no more important role within it than to anchor the Late Late. The host, the self-confessed nerd, the Blackrock boy, the Peter Pan of Donnybrook, known to us as Ryan Tubridy, is there to tell … Read More
One of our more backwards and archaic laws gets the puntastic treatment by Emare.
Our chief messer in ink, Mickey Bananas had this rather cutting take on Brexit up Norn Iron for #rabble12.
While the regime tried their damnedest to depoliticise and adapt the centenary of 1916 to their own ends, the Blueshirt class of shopkeepers and bankers were found once again fumbling in their greasy tills, Shucking history for a few pennies over the odds. Let’s starry plough through some examples. 1. Connolly Shot Glasses Carroll’s brand of sheep clutching, flat cap wearing Guinness swilling leprechauns is hardly going to turn its … Read More
Tragic Terry and The Magic Cowboy have been fighting, but after a week of counselling and mediation sessions with Jonjo Flyntermeister, we managed to get them back into their oracular sanctuary for some anal horoscopy and divination.
Dublin Old School became something of an automatic rabble favourite when we stumbled upon it at the Electric Picnic a few years ago. It’s back for a short run in the Project Arts Centre this week. So, take a look at this interview with Emmet Kirwan from #rabble9 if you need convincing and grab yourself a ticket while you can. See yiz there.