The outcome of the recent UN climate change conference, in Cancun, Mexico, was a disappointing one. Expectations had been very low to begin with, especially following the catastrophic failure of the previous conference in Copenhagen in December 2009. At the conference, countries agreed to limit the global temperature rise to 2 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels. However, the target is not legally binding and global temperatures are already 0.8 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels.

The Cancun agreement reinforces the pledge made by rich countries in Copenhagen in 2009 to give $100 billion per year in aid to developing countries by 2020. However, it is still not clear how the aid will be funded. It was also decided to pay developing countries to protect their forests. This is actually a very good idea. Timber logging and the clearing of forest land are both extremely profitable and a major source of carbon emissions. If the monetary reward for protecting forests becomes greater than the reward for destroying them, many of the remaining forests could be saved. Again, however, no one knows where the money will come from.

Many at the Cancun summit, particularly from richer countries seemed to be unaware of how perilously close we might be to irreversibly destroying our planet. Scientists are now finding that the Earth could be heating faster than we previously realised. There is compelling evidence that once global temperatures rise to 2 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels, our planet will pass a tipping point. From then on, the planet will heat up all by itself, due to positive feedback mechanisms, in a process known as “runaway climate change”.

One positive feedback mechanism involves the oceans’ ability to store CO₂. The world’s oceans absorb and store about a third of all the carbon humans emit. However, warmer water is less effective at storing CO₂. As the oceans heat up, they will take in less and less CO₂ and might actually start releasing it back into the atmosphere, thus changing from a carbon sink into a carbon source. This release of carbon will make the planet (and the oceans) even warmer, causing the oceans to release more CO₂, and so on.

Positive feedback may also happen as global warming triggers the sudden release of greenhouse gases that have been trapped for thousands of years. In Siberia, a vast area of frozen peat-land known as the “permafrost” is beginning to thaw. The frozen bog is the size of France and Germany combined and scientists believe huge amounts of methane, a greenhouse gas 20 times more powerful than CO₂, currently trapped beneath the ice will be released as the permafrost melts. There may also be frozen crystals of methane at the bottom of many of the world’s oceans, which could be released as ocean temperatures rise.

Another positive feedback mechanism is the albedo effect. White surfaces reflect more solar radiation than dark surfaces. As the polar ice caps melt, they leave behind dark ocean, which takes in more heat, helping the remaining ice to melt faster, and so on.

The effects of climate change are already being felt around the world. 2010 was the hottest year on record and extreme weather events including flash floods, hurricanes, heat waves and droughts have all become more common and more severe. Those of us who were in UCC last year saw the effects of global warming ourselves when the river Lee burst its banks and flooded large parts of the city, including buildings in the university. If there hadn’t been a dam on the Lee at Inniscarra, the flooding would have been much worse.

Predictions show that as the planet continues to heat, poorer countries will suffer the most. In some parts of Africa, it is estimated that agricultural yields could be reduced by up to 50% as soon as 2020. In Asia, the Himalayan glaciers are the source of all the continent’s major rivers. Two billion people depend on these rivers for drinking water and irrigation. It is expected that over a billion people will be affected as these glaciers continue to recede.

Our own former president, Mary Robinson, who was at the Cancun conference, said in an interview, “the climate issue is the most compelling human rights issue of the 21st century”. She added, “already, it’s destroying the human rights of a lot of people – the rights to food and safe water. It’s going to be the source of conflicts.” On a positive note, Mrs. Robinson asserted, “what encourages me is that young people get it…they actually know it better than I do.” It is vitally important that decisive action is taken soon to reverse the trend of global warming. We need to curb the rise in greenhouse gas emissions during the next ten years and then drastically reduce them. Let’s hope the negotiators at the next UN climate change conference in Durban, South Africa, can reach a better deal.

When this occurs a person has two options. You can make some sort of excuse and belligerently maintain that you are not prejudiced because you have friends who belong to the group in question, actively support their interests, etc; or you can accept you were wrong, apologise and endeavour not to make the same mistake again. When put in those terms it’s easy to see the latter is the only mature response, but that of course requires admitting that you are not quite as prejudice-free as you would like to be. Giving up the ‘I am always perfectly tolerant’ safety blanket can leave one feeling quite cold.

Earlier this month Eoin Furlong, Auditor of the UCC Ogra Fianna Fail Cumann, found himself on the front page of the Irish Examiner thanks to derogatory, homophobic comments made in his blog in February of last year. I spoke to Eoin to find out how much of the content of the blog was an accurate reflection of his beliefs at the time, and whether he still subscribes to those beliefs today.

He claims that much of the piece was intended as a joke – in the original blog he assumes the persona of an ultra-conservative Christian, taking swipes at ‘the scourge of secularism’ and decrying the legalisation of divorce and the use of artificial contraceptives. As Eoin was already in his second year of university at this point it is not hard to believe that these were simply hyperbolic statements aiming at humour rather than a genuine presentation of beliefs.

The comments pertaining to those who ‘have homosexuality’, ridiculing an effeminate stereotype of gay people and suggesting that marriage equality is undesirable in a Christian state, however, were made “half in jest, half in ignorance” according to Eoin. He admitted that “at the time I would have been against adoption [rights for same sex couples],” but went on to fully endorse marriage equality and adoption reform – “I was wrong… A child deserves a good home and there’s no reason why that good home shouldn’t be two loving people regardless of gender or sexual orientation.”

Eoin cited the realisation that people he knew were gay as the main factor in his change of heart. “I’ve had things happen to me in the past year that have opened my eyes… I took a long hard look at myself basically and said ‘Jesus Christ, you can’t be saying this anymore.’” He also pointed to involvement in UCC societies as broadening his perspective – “It’s only in the past year that I really started to get more involved and that in a way helped as well… education isn’t all in books. Education is meeting people, getting new ideas, having ideas, coming in and moulding ideas, changing ideas. There’s a lot more than meets the eye.”

While in the blog post Eoin stated that he was “in no way homophobic” he seems to have since accepted that at the time his beliefs were indefensible, stating, “I was wrong…. I would have been narrow-minded.” I think there’s something we can all learn in this. Accepting that our beliefs are wrong is necessary for them to change, and this change is clearly a good thing in which we all have to engage at some point. Nobody would endorse the original contents of Eoin’s blog, or suggest that to say such things is acceptable. But I think we should endorse people’s right to change their mind, and would agree that it is good that we all do. This means giving up the safety blanket of mere assertions of non-prejudice, and instead living up to the requirement that we actually make good on such a claim every day, learning from our inevitable mistakes.

Luke Dineen

Diarmuid Martin’s recent liturgy in Dublin’s Pro-Cathedral was an extraordinary display of Christian humility and compassion towards victims of clerical sex abuse. In acknowledging that clerics put the ‘institutional Church before the safety of children’ and actively covered up ‘crimes of abuse’, he has hopefully ended the church’s culture of indifference and denial for its culpability for the sexual abuse of children. Furthermore, the passion, honesty and clarity he provided was very genuine and admirable. So too was the bemusement he expressed at how the Catholic Church could behave in such a sinful way.

But is this conduct more explicable than we care to admit? That the zeitgeist of the church has always been a lust for power and domination? Shouldn’t we admit that with all manmade institutions of power, particularly ones that operate within the walls of an accountability exclusion zone, corruption, abuse of power and self-interest are inevitable? So why should this one be any different?

These questions are all the more pertinent when we consider the enormous influence the Catholic Church still wields in areas as crucial to the wellbeing of Irish society as public health and education. Rarely did the church as an institution flourish as in post independence Ireland, yet rarely did it contribute so little to the finer qualities of the Christian faith. The uniquely Irish devotion to it facilitated a legitimisation for the impoverishment of spirit and the barrenness of mind that characterised the post independence bourgeoisie, touting for moral respectability. While the church still claimed to be the defender of the poor in spirit.

The fact that we venerate their lavish displays of papal splendour and a cult of authority instead of recoiling at such symbols of abusive power represents a triumph of humanity’s darker capacities, rather than an appropriate method to advance the beautifully moral message of Jesus. Indeed the very manner in which church hierarchs expect to be addressed is repugnant to many as they infer servitude on the part of the supplicant, not any kind of mutual Christian respect.

Nor can we forget that this is an institution whose conceit brought such devastation and suffering to so many during the course of its own history. It has championed the degradation of women, viciously attacked so many politically progressive movements and gave such an indefatigable energy to ruthlessly crushing dissent (‘heresy’) in ways that subsequently became bywords for barbarity.

The Catholic Church in every respect represents the continuation of archaic Medieval monarchy. It is an institution that supplanted the autocratic model of the Roman Empire. Presided over by a supreme pontiff, unaccountable, unchallengeable, and infused with the ‘authority’ of Christ (which, incidentally, took them centuries to discover). Its stratified structures of complete patriarchy, strict obedience, deep hierarchy and utter subservience to the arbitrary will of one’s superior are justified in of the name of Jesus, whose will this church supposedly embodies.

Central to the idea of the church was that it alone had a monopoly of ethicality, and was thus the divine vehicle for the salvation of humankind, salvation from the fires of hell for our innate sinfulness. As an obvious consequence, protecting its good reputation and power superseded all other human concerns of civil society. Even something as horrific as the sexual abuse of children.

About three years ago I learned of a monstrous event in human history. The genocide of the Cathars 802 years ago. The Cathars were a religious sect that arose in the 12th century in the south of France, and soon became a mass movement. They believed that humans went through a series of incarnations before becoming a pure spirit, which represented the presence of the God of love, as described by Jesus. The inaptly named Pope Innocent III viewed them as a severe threat to papal supremacy and declared a crusade against the Cathars (his fellow Christians), known as the Albigensian Crusade. Innocent promised land and wealth to knights who would join the assault, and thousands did. The crusaders murdered entire populations, men, women and children in towns across the Languedoc in late July 1209, and seized the riches for themselves. This massacre was not a spontaneous occurrence. It had been planned meticulously by a group involving Innocent.

I cite this historical crime not to suggest that anything the church is engaged in now compares at all to it, much less that the Catholic religion which the institutional church has so often betrayed is anything other than a faith based on Christian love and justice. Rather, what I wish to convey is that the conviction that the Holy Roman Catholic Apostolic Church alone is the sole instrument for the salvation of humanity from eternal damnation (coupled with its authoritarian nature) is the pernicious cover for the terrible abuses of power that Diarmuid Martin so rightly condemns.

The first day of the 31^st Dáil made for unfamiliar viewing. Having elected Enda Kenny as the first Fine Gael Taoiseach in 14 years, the subsequent seating rearrangement demonstrated visually the colossal majority of the new Government. Dominating two-thirds of the House, Fine Gael and Labour no doubt found that the view was much more gratifying from that side of the floor. Meanwhile, the diminished Soldiers of Destiny returned from the one battle in which they were comprehensively defeated. With an emboldened Sinn Féin and a motley crew of Independents, Dáil debates are poised to be that little bit more interesting. If only for a little while.

Election 2011 attracted one of the highest turnouts in recent decades. The electorate had a statement to make, and it has been heard loud and clear in the corridors of Leinster House. It also proved to be the election of the superlatives, as while Fianna Fáil suffered the worst result in their history, everyone else had their best. The transformation in terms of seat numbers would indicate that this is one of the most momentous elections in our State’s narrative. However, whether this is to be a watershed period in Irish politics is yet to be decided. Seat numbers alone cannot truly represent the real story of an election, nor can they alone depict a dramatic change in an electorate’s mindset.

Peter Mair, professor of Comparative Politics at the European University Institute, Florence spoke on RTE radio recently. He believes the Irish general election to be the third most volatile in the history of post-war European democracy. Describing this further, he said that there was a seismic shift in voting patterns not normally seen in democratic elections. It was also significant that this was achieved without the intervention of a new political party, as was the case in those elections that beat us to the top of the electoral volatility list.

Volatile it may have been, but its capacity to fundamentally alter our political system goes beyond transient voting patterns. For 90 years, the civil war has held a vice-like grip over Irish politics. Political parties like Clann na Poblachta and the Progressive Democrats will attest to the strength of that grip, as they tried, and failed, to permanently break the mould of Irish politics. To those who are unfamiliar with politics in this country, it must seem an alien thing for an event that occurred generations previously to dominate modern voting patterns. Common sense should indicate that it will take more than one election to emerge from the shadow it casts over us. However, the stage has never been set more perfectly for a shift away from these ancient divisions.

The next five years will be vital in deciding the legacy of the election. Fianna Fáil, despite huge losses, remain the largest party in opposition. Consequently, they should stand to gain the most from the inevitable fall in popularity of the government. It is also dependant on how the left wing opposition parties, Sinn Féin and the ULA, build on their gains. Both parties will probably concentrate their attacks on Labour, as the spending cuts implemented by the government will be at odds with their left wing aspirations. As well as this, the promised political reforms could make the system more conducive to more diverse parties.

If we are to reject the old ways, then the natural progression would be to a more European ideological divide. Proponents of this left/right spectrum say it offers a real choice to the electorate, rather than the illusion of choice we have had in this country over the years. However, the question is do the Irish electorate want to move to this type of divide? Surely the very fact our politics survived this long shows that what we want is consistency and stability. After all, the politicians are representative of the people who elect them.

Ireland is somewhat unique in a European context in terms of its politics. Our history and divisions continue to have a sustained and profound impact on our political structure. These structures have been bombarded over recent weeks, and whether they will remain standing is yet to be seen. But it will be for forthcoming years, not the past few week, to tell us if the walls of our political system are to be permanently torn down.

Our beloved Maurice Moss (from Channel 4’s The IT Crowd) has only gone and made a film. Possibly jealous of Chris O’ Dowd’s (Roy’s) success in Hollywood films, such as Dinner for Schmucks and Katharine Parkinson’s (Jen’s)…um,  Malteasers ads, Richard Ayoade’s directorial debut, the coming-of-age comedy, Submarine, comes out this March. This is Ayoade’s first foray into directing a full-length feature, his previous directing experience seen in television series Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace and in various music videos for the likes of Vampire Weekend (all of which have been rather excellent). The film was recently screened at Toronto International Film Festival as well as the Dublin International Film Festival, with much praise for the first-time film director. So how will Submarine fare? Well, all indications would suggest magnificently.

The film, based on Joe Dunthorne’s novel of the same name (touted as “the greatest coming-of age story since Catcher in the Rye”), deals with the trials and tribulations of misguided, Max Fischer-esque, fifteen year-old Welshman, Oliver Tate. The primary cast is made up of young newcomers: our hero, Oliver Tate is played by Craig Roberts and his first love, Jordana, portrayed by Yasmin Paige. Other more well known faces from the British film scene also star, including Paddy Considine (In America) as a hippy life coach, who tries to seduce our protagonist’s mother (portrayed by An Education’s Sally Hawkins), and Oliver’s dad is played by Noah Taylor, who not-so-long-ago played the father of Charlie Bucket in Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

The most well known faces tied to the film are behind the camera, with Ben Stiller acting as executive producer (apparently he’s a big Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace fan) and Alex Turner of the Arctic Monkeys writing a number of songs for the film. Though Stiller is apparently confused as to how he came to read the script of Submarine or, indeed, how he became involved at all, he is highly complimentary of Ayoade’s film, describing him as “annoyingly talented.” Alex Turner and Richard Ayoade were already an established collaborative duo, with Ayoade directing Arctic Monkey’s recent live DVD. Turner’s tracks, which happen to be his first solo effort proper, are quite lovely and tie with the whole ambience of the film well. Turner wrote five original tracks for the film, among them Hiding Tonight and Stuck on the Puzzle, all of which seem to match the leisurely, gentle pace of the film.

Recently released clips and trailers promise a pretty unique viewing experience. The trailer, back-dropped by some ambient French music, clearly introduces the core components of Oliver Tate’s world (as well as the offbeat comic nature of the film): a pyromaniac girlfriend, the ‘storm and stress’ of adolescence, the breakdown of his parents’ relationship, with a little aside reminding us of the dignity of the film industry (“It’s really rude to leave a film before its finished” “To who?” “The film makers” “How are they going to know?” “They just do…” “How?” “They do!”).

From what I have seen, promotion around the film has been limited, but has been greatly hyped nonetheless. Comparisons have been made between Ayoade and greats such as Wes Anderson and Jean- Luc Godard, because of his pace, style and attention to detail. It would seem that an air of delightful creepiness seems to come across from all of the promotional material for the film. Ayoade seems to have captured the awkward, humorous self-consciousness of the protagonist excellently.

All things considered, Submarine promises to be an extremely original piece of cinema. Ayoade is one of the most talented British comic writers and actors working today, so anyone who is familiar with his work is well aware of his capacity for brilliance. With any film hyped by the critics, as this film has been, there is some degree of caution among audiences, but I cannot help but be enthusiastic about this film. Considering it has not even got as far as cinema release, hopefully I’m not being premature in saying  Ayoade’s endearing new take on the coming-of-age tale is real reason for excitement.

Welcome to the final installment of the Ents section as presented by myself & Mssr. Murph – it’s been pretty awesome to run a full 6 (!) issues this academic year and it’s been especially awesome to write Ents. In honour of the occasion, and because I’m pretty cheesy, I thought it’d be pretty fitting to wrap up Motley’s Ents Section 2010/11 by recounting some of our favourite movie endings. Warning – this may get teary. Oh, and spoilers ahoy!

Amadeus

Milos Forman’s 1984 adaptation of Peter Shaffer’s play is probably one of the more beautiful, entertaining and generally good films of all time: it tells the (mostly fictionalised) story of how Mozart (here portrayed by Tom Hulce as childish, vulgar and incredibly talented – with a very annoying laugh) was (indirectly) murdered by a musical rival at the time, the scheming and insanely jealous Salieri (F. Murray Abraham). The final scene opens with the conclusion of Salieri’s story – he is now infirm and confined to an asylum long after Mozart’s death. The young priest to whom he confessed is visibly shaken, disturbed and clinging to his crucifix – as Salieri is wheeled out of the room, he pauses to speak to the priest. Mozart’s Piano Concerto in D Minor creeps into the background. “I will speak for you, Father,” he says. “I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint.” The final shots are of the ancient Salieri, once a great composer, being wheeled down the corridor of the asylum, crying out to the madmen he’s surrounded with – “Mediocrities of the world – I absolve you!” – before leaning back. He closes his eyes, folds his hand, and opens his mouth. Mozart’s laugh emerges. Fade to black. The scene gave me goosebumps the first time I watched it – a disturbing end to an incredible film.

Midnight Cowboy

Midnight Cowboy is an odd one. It’s the story of Joe (Jon Voight), a young Texan who comes to New York to make it as a male prostitute. He meets Ratso (Dustin Hoffman), who initially scams him out of money before the two make friends in the face of extreme poverty, unemployment and a harsh winter. Ratso, while a shady character, is also sick: he wants to make it out of New York and with worsening health, the two attempt to hire Joe out as a stud. Increasingly desperate and after a string of disturbing sexual encounters, Joe beats and robs a customer, and the two depart for Miami on a bus. However, Ratso is incredibly ill, and just as Joe wonders aloud about their new life in Miami, he realises Ratso has died beside him. Joe alerts the bus driver, who replies there is nothing left to do but continue to Miami, and Joe sits beside his dead friend, watching the landscape change outside. Seriously sombre stuff after an hour and a half of gritty drama, but highly recommended.

Being There

“Life is a state of mind” are the last lines of this brilliant film, starring Peter Sellers as Chance the Gardener, a simple-minded middle-aged man who, after years of peaceful isolation tending the garden of a wealthy townhouse in Washington DC, is turned out on the streets when its owner dies. Chance, dressed well but old-fashioned, wanders aimlessly until he is hit by the car of Ben Rand, a wealthy businessman and close aide to the President. Mistaking Chance the Gardener for “Chauncey Gardiner” (a mispronunciation), Rand and his wife (Shirley Maclaine) also mistake Chance’s simple musings about gardening (“As long as the roots are not severed, all is well. And all will be well in the garden”) for sage comments on the economy. He becomes an advisor to the President, appears on television and is offered book deals – all the while oblivious to what occurs around him. Finally, the terminally ill Rand dies: the final scene is his funeral. Chance wanders away once more, tends to a sapling and continues to stroll across the surface of a small lake. A few strides in, he pauses, pushes his umbrella down through the water as if to test its depth, and continues on his way. Is any interpretation sufficient? Roger Ebert says this of Being There: “The movie presents us with an image, and while you may discuss the meaning of the image, it is not permitted to devise explanations for it. Since Ashby does not show a pier, there is no pier – a movie is exactly what it shows us, and nothing more.”

Kids

I don’t like Kids. I’m pretty hard to shock when it comes to movies, but there’s something really ugly about this one – also, the early 90s clothes and jargon make it a hard one to relate to, whatever your socioeconomic status. That said, however, its ending is really something -  it’s the story of Telly, a 17 year old skater from New York who really likes sex but only deflowers virgins on the premise that this will protect him from STDs. Telly’s friends are cinema’s stereotypical teenaged sex, booze and drug addicts: all except Jenny (Chloe Sevigny), who has only ever had sex with Telly and has just discovered that she has HIV. For the rest of the movie, she attempts to find the also-HIV positive Telly, who has since had sex with many young girls, eventually finding him at a house party, having sex with a 13 year old girl. Exhausted and under the influence of party drugs, she passes out only for Telly’s friend Casper (Justin Pierce) to rape her, thus exposing himself to HIV. The final shot opens on a naked Casper, who wakes up, looks around in disbelief and asks the camera, “Jesus Christ, what happened?” It’s shocking and a little viewer-exploitative, but it works.

Some Like it Hot

It’s hard not to love Some Like it Hot: if you’ve not seen it, get out and get it, now – even if you don’t like older movies, SLiH is a treat. Mostly because it’s aged extremely well – you’ll get every one of the jokes, all the laughs are still intact and man, Marilyn Monroe is very sexy here. It’s the story of two musicians, Jerry (Jack Lemmon) and Joe (Tony Curtis) who witness a gangster shooting and flee the scene, disguising themselves as Josephine (Curtis) and Daphne (Lemmon) and joining a woman’s touring band. There they meet Sugar Kane (Monroe), whom Curtis falls in love with. He proceeds to disguise himself as a millionaire to win her over, while Daphne is unwillingly romanced by Osgood, another millionaire. It’s very zany, very clever, wonderfully witty – and its final scene is its best. Joe reveals himself to Sugar, who loves him anyway, while Osgood and the still-disguised Jerry escape in a boat. Jerry reveals “herself” to Osgood -

Jerry: Osgood, I’m gonna level with you. We can’t get married at all.

Osgood: Why not?

Jerry: Well, in the first place, I’m not a natural blonde.

Osgood: Doesn’t matter.

Jerry: I smoke! I smoke all the time!

Osgood: I don’t care.

Jerry: Well, I have a terrible past. For three years now, I’ve been living with a saxophone player.

Osgood: I forgive you.

Jerry: [Tragically] I can never have children!

Osgood: We can adopt some.

Jerry: But you don’t understand, Osgood!

[Pulls off wig]

Jerry: I’m a man!

Osgood: Well, nobody’s perfect!

And they ride off into the sunset. End scene. What a perfect close.

The best way to describe the reaction to the truly execrable film that is Inception is to compare it to a self fulfilling prophecy. When the Soviet Army crossed the Vistula in 1945, many ethnic Germans living in areas east of Germany desperately fled their homes in hopes of reaching mainland Germany before the Russians. Their desperate scramble was fuelled by their own fear of actual atrocities committed by the advancing Red Army, but also by their own Nazi government’s propaganda which was actually intended to stiffen these Germans’ resolve to resist the invasion. Alas, the horrific nature of these atrocities used as a propaganda tool merely induced panic and many of these retreating ethnic Germans became subject to these atrocities themselves when the fast moving Red Army units caught up with these refugees.

In this case the atrocity is merely a Hollywood film. The groundwork for this self fulfilling prophecy was laid months before the film’s release, with a trailer that genuinely suggested something intelligent and challenging would be forthcoming from the director of Memento and The Prestige. Instead, we got a monumentally simple and dull film which looked as though it had been directed by Michael Bay. The teaser trailer was specifically designed to echo or evoke the complex and labyrinthine structure of both Memento and The Prestige. This theory was re-enforced by a visit to the film’s official website in search of more information which only showed a constantly spinning top. This provocative and mysterious approach could easily be construed as pretentious or hollow unless the film itself delivered on its rather arch notions.

Another trope employed by the director/film executives was to ‘keep the plot secret’ and reveal as little as possible in the trailer. It would seem film goers’ expectations for summer releases has reached an all time low if they are receptive to equating secrecy with brilliant film-making. Proof that substantiates this theory is steeped in the aforementioned marketing tactics of the film, whereby they convinced most people that showing little amounted to a lot even though the actual film turned out to be the trailer itself; it was an inspired if insidious marketing strategy.

By constantly re-enforcing the idea that this film is special and unlike 90% of movies, which are merely their trailers, the audience believed Inception was a great film before entering the cinema. How else could a film get away with a few cheap looking action set pieces glued together with insipid dialogue such as ‘this is my last job’ or ‘we must stop Cillian Murphy before he or his company becomes an energy super-power’ or some other such drivel?

Above all this trash, above the mind numbingly boring and simple storyline, the laughable dialogue, Ellen Page, and prosaic action set pieces, spins that incessant top – like some over-wound toy ballerina tossed atop the flotsam of some wrecked garbage scow with the goddamn seagulls following close behind in the hope of some sardines.

Clint Eastwood’s Hereafter is an understated film about a delicate topic. In fact, it is so understated that it risks misleading much of the audience as to its intentions and implications, and frustrating the rest of us in the process. The central theme, unsurprisingly, is that of the eponymous afterlife. Eastwood threads a set of stories based around the primal desire for the great beyond and the human longing to communicate with those who have passed away. Everything we see is wholly suggestive and ambiguous, never committing to the reality (or lack thereof) of the characters’ observations, instead assuming that it is enough for us not to know or care whether an underlying truth is to be found in the characters’ shared sufferings and experiences.

Following in the vein of multi-stranded movies such as 2004’s Crash, the disparate subplots in Hereafter are brought together by a combination of chance and necessity (read: destiny?). Marie (Cecile de France) is a French television journalist who suffers a near-death experience as she almost drowns during a devastating tsunami, before being resuscitated; George (Matt Damon) is a middle-aged man who, so far as we can tell, genuinely considers himself able to communicate with the dead; and Marcus (Frankie McLaren) loses his twin brother Jason (George McLaren) to a car accident. Despite what we might expect given the overarching theme, there are hardly any remarkable events depicted for which we would have to lose our preconceptions. Near death experiences commonly result in reports of white light and a sense of peacefulness, and presumably there are at least some psychics who sincerely believe in their claims. We don’t have to accept anything out of the ordinary to buy into this story.

Equally, there is no major plot resolution to which we are led; the characters move slowly and inexorably towards one another without any real drama or event beyond the mundane reality of having to deal with the consequences of human mortality. Nothing is forced upon us, it is enough that the characters have genuine motivations and emotions. Peter Morgan, who wrote the screenplay, has stated that he does not believe in life after death. He didn’t need to in order to pen this story, because it’s irrelevant. The film doesn’t purport to demonstrate the otherworldly; instead impressing the view that the here-and-now is remarkable in its own right. In this sense Eastwood has made a subtly intelligent—if deceiving—picture. But in its lack of definite rhyme or reason, it fails to captivate us by committing itself, and it fails to excite us with a narrative that poses few questions and delivers even fewer answers. There is such a thing as too subtle.

Like every kid of the ’90s, my childhood comprised three things: Pokémon, penny sweets and Disney. While the former two are still decidedly awesome, the latter has declined so far into sheer crappiness that I just have to ask: what the hell happened?

The Lion King (1994) was the first film I ever saw in the cinema. I had just turned 5, and, although I was too much of a youngling to understand what was going on, I still recall being mesmerised by the whole thing. Looking back, all I can really remember are the bright colours and the fact that my sister was bawling. But damn, that movie was amazing.

The Lion King was my first foray into the Disney empire and succeeded in cementing my love for the studio forever more. It had everything Disney is famous for: an epic story, fully realised characters, comedy, horror, and sentiment. Not to mention a killer soundtrack, much of which today resides in my iTunes collection.

The aforementioned film is part of what is now termed The Disney Renaissance, a period of time when Disney could do no wrong. Running from the late 1980s to the late 1990s, releases included classics like Beauty and the Beast (1991), Aladdin (1992), and Pocahontas (1995). Every one of these films are widely regarded as Disney’s finest. In particular, Beauty and the Beast, which many believe to be the best thing Disney has ever done, was the first animated film ever to be nominated the Best Picture at the Oscars.

The Disney Renaissance came to an end in 1999 with the release of Tarzan. This was the moment when Disney began its long-lasting decline; when it turned from sacred to shit. Sure, Tarzan was great, but nothing beyond this has really wowed me since. Well, one has, but we’ll get to that later.

The 2000s, as far as I’m concerned, is when Disney lost the respect it took all those years to instil. Atlantis: The Lost Empire? Crap. Treasure Planet? Crap. Home on the Range? Crap! To add insult to injury, the company tried to save its own ass in 2006 by buying the perpetually awesome Pixar. When I learned of the acquisition I was terrified: how could Pixar, a studio with a perfect track record, allow itself to be tainted by Disney, a studio that hadn’t released anything worth watching since ten years before? Alas, it was ok: while Disney would oversee all projects, creative control would remain in the hands of Pixar.

For the last few years I had entirely forgotten about Disney. An endless string of disappointment had left me with little faith in the company, and I moved on to bigger and better things, namely the studio mentioned five or six times in the previous paragraph.

And then 2011 came. And with it, a movie so brilliant it has undone much of the irritation brought on in the noughties: Tangled. Based on Rapunzel, Tangled retells the classic tale in a witty and exciting way. But it’s not just that. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but Tangled has succeeded in recapturing the magic classic Disney features boast. That may be down to the fact that the movie cost a staggering $260 million to make, but perhaps the people at Disney have rediscovered something they had for such a long time lost. Maybe, just maybe, the Disney we all know and once loved is back. Hopefully, the studio’s next release doesn’t prove Tangled to be nothing more than a diamond in the roughest of the rough.

Given his stature, Ben Honan cuts an intimidating figure. A tall, dark haired basketball coach who  could probably pick most people up with one hand, he is actually surprisingly gentle when you engage him. Wearing his trademark zip-up hoody and blue jeans, he greats me with a friendly handshake and accepts my congratulations modestly. “I’ve spent most of the past few days sleeping to be honest”. It’s not surprising; last week, he was elected the new President of UCC Students’ Union having taken on and beaten the incumbent officer.

“It was a very draining and tiring experience … these elections really aren’t a healthy thing to go through!” He smiles. “But they’re also very rewarding, we had a huge team, a very active  team and I’m really proud, I hope I can restore their faith in me.” He looks earnestly with wide eyes and leans forward in his chair, it’s clear that he genuinely means it. Given the introduction of a spending cap of €500 for all sabbatical election campaigns this year, the mood on campus – though still hectic – was noticeably more civilised than in previous years. “I do think it helped, people were forced to be a bit more innovative in how they approached things; it added a personal touch that I really enjoyed.”

With all the hustle and bustle since the results came in, Honan could be forgiven for not having sat down to work just yet, but he does have a clear plan of action for the year ahead. “I’ve got big picture stuff and small picture stuff that I want to work on,” he enthuses. “In terms of the big picture, I’m trying to reconnect people with the Union as much as possible.” On this front, he is pleased that students voted in favour of splitting the Deputy Presidential position into Campaigns and Communications portfolios. “Now that we’ll have a full-time campaigns officer, someone who can give their full attention to the job, it will help a lot. They’ll be working closely with me, so I think that reconnecting with the students will be very achievable for us.”

He is big on the issue of college pride, which he says has been lacking in recent times. “Ideally, I’d like to work with clubs and societies. There are a lot of things which should make us proud to be in UCC; we’ve got fantastic debating teams and sports clubs. We should make people feel a connection with that.” He also believes that the Students’ Union can play its part in this reconnection process. “The Union, as it is, is quite disjointed.” He clearly feels strongly about the matter. “People are going on solo runs, and perhaps the workload could be a bit more overlapping and spread out, rather than having different people doing entirely different, even conflicting, jobs. That’s not a personal slant on anyone, it’s a structural thing, and I think that from the get-go we need to have a cohesive approach next year and it’ll be my responsibility to ensure that it happens.”

While he is happy to take the responsibility on his shoulders, he recognises that there is a high level of bureaucracy within the University structure that will prove time-consuming once he assumes his new role. “On a personal level, I don’t want to sit on a load of boring committees, but of course students need to be represented. These committees will go ahead either way, so all I can do is try to do my best for students on them. This is a bureaucratic job in some ways, I’ve just got to get on with it.”

In terms of reform, Class Council, the decision making body above the Students’ Union executive consisting of all Class Reps from across the University, is something which he picks out. “I think, for a start, class reps should be primarily accountable to their class and not to the council. It should only be the class who have the power to punish or to remove a rep. In terms of promotion, we need to be doing more than giving free drinks and pizza to encourage people to attend, because it clearly isn’t working.”

Honan also has a renewed mandate for opposition to third level fees, after close to 90% of voters came out in favour of maintaining the campaign. “I’ve said previously that I don’t see fees as being the number one priority in the year ahead. Ruairi Quinn, the new Minister for Education, was part of the government that initially abolished third-level fees, and he also signed USI’s anti-fee pledge recently.” He seems eager to stress the point that he doesn’t take it for granted. “There will be a lot of things to fight, but I don’t see fees as being as big a priority as they have been in previous years.”

Ben answers your questions

“If you could change one thing about the SU this year, what would it have been?”

Brian Byrne

I think the Union needs to present more of a united front. I saw one of the officers this year was publicly attacked on an internet forum board, and not a single fellow officer came on to defend them. I think that the SU needs to be seen as a brand; every thing that an officer does is a public representation of the Union. If an officer speaks, the Union speaks. If an officer is attacked, the Union is attacked. Particularly with the sabbatical officers. If someone does something wrong, the Union should rally behind them but deal with the matter internally. You have to present a united front as much as possible.

“Do you still plan to introduce a Farmers’ Market in UCC next year?”

Tom Smith

This is something that I put in my manifesto, and something that I’m very excited about, I spoke to a lot of people on the campaign trail about the idea. It’s done in UL to great effect, there’s a perfect spot for it in UCC. I think it’s awful that it hasn’t been done in UCC yet, and I’ve already received contact from people interest in getting involved in the running of it. I know a group of students have already been working away on the idea, and I plan to sit down with them and talk to them about it. Hopefully come September, we can have one up and running in UCC.

“What are your plans for Motley next year?”
Audrey Dearing, Motley Features Editor

I’ve no specific plans on a personal level. I love Motley, and I’m happy that there’ll now be a specific Communications officer who will have a bit more time to dedicate to it and to make all UCC publications a bit more financially viable, but I am very keen for Motley to continue next year. Of course, it has to remain autonomous but I’d definitely like to show support in terms of strong Union backing.

“Where do you buy your tall-man hoodies?”

Daithi Linnane, Deputy President Students’ Union

I’ve actually had to reform my dress sense in recent times… I’m only allowed wear my tall-man hoodies once a week now. But if anyone wants some, I’ll have a few lying around that I’m not using anymore. I don’t think they’d fit Daithi though

“How do you deal with your grey hair?”

Paul Keohane

The elections probably haven’t helped, I think it’s rapidly increasing at the current rate … I’d also question why a CIT student is being given space in a UCC magazine!

“Despite there being an SU president from Limerick City serving just the year before last, there was a distinct and disappointing lack of free yokes on campus. As you hail from marginally closer to the national cultural centre of yokes, Shanaboolie, can we expect loads of free yokes next year?”

Julia Healy

My heart goes out to you Julia, but unfortunately in economic terms, by giving out free yokes, we would destroy the yoke trade and a lot of people wouldn’t be happy about that. (Disclaimer, I’m completely opposed to drug use!)

“As a basketball man, who do you think is going to win the NCAA basketball championship this year?”

Tommy Thompson

I think Duke got a bit of a hiding, so they’d. I think I should sit down with you and fill out a bracket some night, but for the moment I’m gonna go with the ‘Tar Heels’, North Carolina University.

“Do you prefer to high-five or bonesed?”

Kevin Curran

I have yet to discover what bonesing actually is! If you mean fist-pumping, then I think it’s highly appropriate for a more low-key celebration, whereas a high five is more exuberant. So it depends on the circumstances.