The Dubliner Magazine

Marc Coleman and Wikipedia Redux

Max McGuinness returns to  self-editing at The Irish Times

Readers of this blog may remember a post last week about how Irish Times staffers had been up to no good on the world wide web, re-writing wikipedia entries concerning their own paper in a clear case of conflict of interest. When writing about other Irish companies' wikipedia-based antics, The Irish Times reporter had conveniently omitted to investigate the self-editing propensities of his colleagues.

Some of the more interesting edits concerned the wikipedia entry for the then Irish Times economics editor Marc Coleman.  Somebody, and I stress somebody, at the paper re-wrote Coleman's entry, substantially altering references to his career as a conservative activist in Fine Gael prior to his becoming a journalist.

Well, well. Guess who has written the letter of the month to our splendid, reasonably-priced magazine(out now, folks)? The very same Marc Coleman! But the subject of his epistle was not wikipedia. Rather, he was upset by an article in the magazine last month by Eddie Holt which portrayed Coleman as an "Irish Ferries admirer". Coleman lashes back, branding Holt a "Stalinist".

Stalin understood the importance of keeping an eye on his biography. He notoriously had his role in the October Revolution exagerrated in subsequent histories when his actual contribution to overthrowing Kerensky had in fact been minimal.

I digress. To keep this round of "telegrams and anger" spinning along, I've emailed Coleman to ask him if he has any thoughts on the changes made to his wikipedia biography  during his time at the Irish Times. I'll post the response here when I receive it.

Update Friday 03:35 PM:

Coleman Responds!

Fair dues to the man. He has fessed up. Here is his emailed response:

"Hi Max,

Goes with the terrain I suppose. I edited part of that myself because my activism on social issues was not conducted within the Fine Gael party (which as you know was liberal on issues) but as an individual, so it wasn't accurate to portray it as part of my membership of hte(sic) party. To be fair I replaced it with the activism I did engage in in(sic) FG. As for karate, I removed it because it isn't really and important part of my career profile: I don't intend using it professionally, not yet anyway ;-),

Marc"

10 things to do in Dublin when you’re an Irish Model™

by Patrick Freyne

1. Pose in a bikini in the middle of winter with novelty oversized fruit. Say that the fruit is a symbol of spring and love... The truth is the art director ran out of ideas.

What’s in the magazine this month?

What's in the magazine this month?

Some of the juiciest bits from this month's Dubliner...

Welcome to the Gaybourhood! Quentin Fottrell gives us a guided tour of
Dublin 8, the charming new capital of Gay Ireland.

Meet the Bebo Generation We talk to a couple of charming, ambitious, hot
twenty-somethings and ask, are they the face of New Ireland?

The New Irish Dictionary All the essential terms you'll need to make
friends with our Polish, Nigerian, Chinese, Russian and Czech neighbours.

The OJ Trial Who's squeezing your oranges?

Plus our monthly guide to bars, restaurants, wine, cinema, theatre, art and
music

An apology to Mrs Elin Nordegren Woods

Trevor White apologises to Elin Nordegren Woods – in the September issue of the magazine.

On this page, exactly a year ago, I introduced a special issue on the Ryder Cup by conceding that The Dubliner had never published a story about sport. Now I wish we hadn’t bothered. Within that issue there was an article about the American Ryder Cup wives. Short, satirical and not very funny, it was accompanied by a photograph of Elin Nordegren Woods. Unbeknownst to me, that picture was a fake.

There was an international outcry when Tiger Woods announced his displeasure at the article at a press conference on the eve of the Ryder Cup. He was right to take exception to it, and one must admire his determination to see his wife’s reputation restored. I responded to the outcry by withdrawing the magazine from the news-stands and issuing an apology.

Within the last 12 months I have apologised on several occasions to Mrs Elin Nordegren Woods. Today I unreservedly apologise to her in the pages of the magazine in which the article was published. It was a foolish and unfair story, predicated on a myth, and I will regret publishing it for the rest of my life. I recognise that Mrs Nordegren Woods is a person of the highest integrity, and I sincerely regret the damage caused by the article and the publicity it subsequently received. 

I don’t know what happens next. Technically, the magazine is headed for a costly showdown in the courts. I don’t want that to happen, obviously, and frankly I have no desire to defend the article. So I am publishing this unreserved apology in the hope that it brings some light to a dark, unpleasant situation. I apologise to Mrs Nordegren Woods. And I also apologise to you, our readers. That article had no place in The Dubliner.

Sorry. 

Prophet outside his own land

Abie Philbin Bowman hits America with Jesus: The Guantanamo Years. Can they handle it? Read on

Ireland's Best Literary Festival?

Trevor White thinks so. Max McGuinness isn't so sure.

On Saturday afternoon at the inaugural Flatlake literary festival in Monaghan, the same painting by Damien Hirst went under the hammer twice within a single hour. The first time, it was bought for €380. The second time, it made €95,000.

The reason for this Weimar-style inflation? We only learned the second time around that the colourful swirl was indeed the work of the genius who once inserted a chicken bone into his foreskin in front of a traumatised group of American tourists in the bar of the Clarence Hotel.

Whatever this episode might say about our skewed appreciation of the value of art, the sale will undoubtedly have one welcome consequence – Pat McCabe and Kevin Allen's eccentric attempt to bring culture to the Midlands will continue (and maybe next year the performers will get a free pint or something).

Dispatches from the Fringe

The Dubliner reports from the World's Biggest Arts Festival 

The Edinburgh Fringe is having its last hurrah this weekend. Over 2,000 shows were performed at this year's Festival (up 10% from last year). Bizarrely, in spite of its colossal size -- or perhaps because of it -- the Fringe seems a lot quieter this year. It's still a completely manic, frenetic hive of activity. But Fringe veterans have been commenting on how relatively subdued the whole thing seems. Audiences are thin on the ground, perhaps due in part to the weakness of the dollar. And there is an increasing sense of just how difficult it is for an individual show to stand out and make any kind of impact amongst so many competitors.

All of this is encapsulated at a free afternoon show in a lovely new venue. Che Guevara on the Fringe starts in the bar of The Green Room at 4 p.m. every day. It’s a patently ridiculous fusion of

Drugs, drugs, drugs

Do you take drugs? Have you in the past? Want to talk about it for next month's cover story?

We're looking for pot-smokers, pill-poppers and coke-snorters to go on the record and tell us why drugs are good / bad / necessary in life.

Contact us at editor@thedubliner.ie

So much for Street Fighting Man

Max McGuinness gets conservatively stoned.

I wrote on this blog a few weeks ago about fascist rock stars in South Africa and Croatia. No such political swear words apply to the Rolling Stones but Saturday's concert at Slane reminded me how Mick and Keith are  right of centre on many levels.

Firstly, we have to contend with the decidedly un-PC lyrics of their encore - Brown Sugar.
Here are the lyrics for the opening verse:

"Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields
Sold in a market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver knows he's doing alright
Hear him whip the women just around midnight"

Make no mistake. This is a song about a brutal rape which is now being belted out by a wrinkled old man on the verge of retirement...and it's brilliant.

Gastro-pub: is there one in Dublin?

Trevor White wants more than a sandwich with his pint

At this year's series of Dubliner debates – Old City, New Dreams – we asked a host of eminent critics and chefs to discuss the subject of Irish food. It was a lively affair, made all the more so by a (creepy?) confrontation between Kevin Thornton and Ross Lewis. Thornton almost admitted that his cooking is too good for Dublin.

We're inclined to agree: witness the paucity of diners in Thornton's most days.

During the debate I made the point that Ireland lags way behind other countries when it comes to culinary trends. For instance, I said, we have not got a single gastro-pub worthy of the name in Dublin. The esteemed booze hack Pat Nolan, who was at the debate, answers that charge on his blog today.

Pat makes an interesting case in defence of publicans, though even he concludes on a depressing note:

While there are quite a few pubs doing a great job in promoting good quality pub food, contrary to the widely held belief as posited by the panel, sadly to my mind they find themselves in a minority when put alongside the truly terrible chancers still out there.

What do you think? Is there a single gastro-pub in Dublin? In other words, a bar in which the food is not merely an afterthought, but an integral – and high quality! – part of the package.

If there is one, we'd love to find it. Help!