Next parish America

The Blaskets are a mesmeric group of islands off the Kerry coast which, among other things, spawned a remarkable set of writers. The islands were eventually abandoned in the 1950s, after a prolonged storm prevented a doctor being brought from the mainland to the aid of a dying young man. But they retain an elusive, romantic fascination. Some years ago, the Irish government built a cultural centre on the mainland to celebrate the culture and literary heritage of the islands. There was a great deal of controversy about the building, which many people felt was too intrusive. It does indeed look strange from a distance, but once inside it one immediately sees that it has great architectural integrity. It’s built around a long, slate-floored spine which points towards the abandoned village on the Great Blasket. We went there in the late afternoon and had the place more or less to ourselves. It was a beautifully peaceful and evocative experience.

The beauty of Plain English

This morning’s Observer column

‘Political language’, observed George Orwell in his great essay on ‘Politics and the English Language’, ‘is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.’ Much the same applies to the output of the public relations industry. One of the most important public services that mainstream journalism can provide, therefore, consists of decoding PR-speak: translating its half-truths, unsupported assertions and evasions into plain English…

This column is really a celebration of John Gruber’s lovely translation of Macrovision CEO Fred Amoroso’s Response to Steve Jobs’s ‘Thoughts on Music’.

Orwell would have loved it.