Notes from the Boneyard

The year was 1966. While the Beatles were wasting their time making Revolver, my grandfather, Joe Moore, was hiking his family all over ireland, playing gigs in any concert hall or pub they could find. They opened for the Dubliners in the Ulster Hall, a venue where just a couple of years later, Led Zeppelin […]

Chris asked me what this weeks column would be about, as he was about to start his sketch. I wasn’t quite sure. Had my well run dry? Or was I just  being lazy? I had received an essay from Jolie holland a few nights prior, and wasn’t sure if it was intended for the boneyard […]

Some people were born to lose. It’s just the way it is. They never quite get those lucky breaks that other people get their entire lives. They only get loser breaks. At school they were the last to get picked for the football team. They got detention after class for getting caught doing what the […]

He sits at the bar, staring blankly into nothingness, his fingers > making mince meat of the beer mat as he waits anxiously for another > drink. The barman makes no effort at small talk as he pours him > another. With the glass now full and his bloodshot eye twitching, he > raises the […]

This weeks rag is written by our man in Tucson Arizona, and honorary native of Omagh, the one and only Mr Howe Gelb. Take it away Howe….. Time & space are a funny thing. If it’s not one, it’s the other. Next thing ya know ya wake up in Scranton getting a fist fulla Guinness […]

a brief conversation i had while waiting for Chad and sitting on his neighbours porch.. good chats.

The piano strikes a chord. It’s like someone just switched the light on. The still room has now come to life. Drinks spill and glasses smash. Nobody seems to mind. The piano guy is taking everyone along for the ride, whipping them into a frenzy. Yes. The piano guy knows what he is doing. Lunacy […]