Have you ever read a more ridiculous article than this one in today’s Sunday Independent?:
Eventually, the best you can hope for is to, first of all, try to readjust, then learn to cope and then rebuild. My feeling is that Gerry Ryan had not yet learned to cope. He had been only two years into the readjustment. He had at least two to go, probably more.
So on those nights when he came home alone he would have got a taxi from wherever he was to wherever he was going. It would have been late; he would have been taking whiskey.
He would have turned a key in the door, he would have opened it and he would have been met by a coldness in the air. There would have been no sense of another presence, his children were not upstairs asleep, his wife was not warm and secure in his bed.
There would have been no children’s toys in the hallway, no coats hanging on the stairs, no warmth from the walls, no schoolbooks on the table, and no or precious little food in the fridge.
He would turn on the television, watch Sky News; he would feel tired, and would go upstairs. There would be a towel on the bathroom floor, the laundry basket would be full; there would be clothes discarded on the bedroom floor, his bed would be unmade.
There would be no scatter cushions, no candles, no bedside lights dimly glowing. None of this would have bothered him either.
But there would be no sound of his children gently breathing. He would be acutely aware of that. He may take a sleeping tablet to help get him through the night, or four or five hours of it anyway.
Before he lay down, he would have looked out the window at the night sky, and would seen the moon, and he would have thought of how it was shining, too, in Clontarf, over the house where his children slept; he would have wished that he was with them there, and he would have felt at a loss to know why he was not.
He would have ached to be not just under the same night sky, but under the same roof, so that he might at least feel that he could protect his children if protection they needed, to keep them safe.
This is the thought that would have bothered him, that would have upset him, the one that he would have taken to his unmade bed. He may have cried.
Jesus Wept.
Jody Corcoran doesn’t know his arse from his elbow. Let’s look at some of that again:
There would be a towel on the bathroom floor, the laundry basket would be full; there would be clothes discarded on the bedroom floor, his bed would be unmade.
..
This is the thought that would have bothered him, that would have upset him, the one that he would have taken to his unmade bed.
Another article on Gerry Ryan in the same paper reveals this interesting fact:
In his memoir, he talked about not being able to go to work until he had made the bed.
Perhaps the Sindo ‘journalists’ should knock heads once in a while.
I also spotted this in that same Sindo article:
Bono of U2 recalled, in his own inimitable style, how he heard the news. “I had just walked out of a meeting with President Obama and I had got into the car and Catriona, my PA, told me. From a really great meeting where everything seemed so possible in the outside world to just this very different reality where all the possibilities of Gerry have slipped away from us,” he said.
Jesus Bono, when you try to be profound, why do you always seem to arrive at empty by mistake?
“He may…” Since when has personal supposition become news?
Bono can’t say anything without fucking name dropping. “So Bono, toilet seat up or down?” “Oh man, I don’t want to takes sides *huk huk* but I was talking to my mate Bill Gates about it actually…” When he drops dead they’ll probably put something like this on his headstone: “My work here is done; I’m off to negotiate a peace deal with God.”
The Sindo is hilarious. They always do this kind of thing after the death of a big name. Desperately trying to fill column inches with speculation and ‘inside the mind of’ style tosh. Next week, an article on what it may have been like for Gerry when he first saw Elton John live in concert. “The shivers may have ran up his spine, but you can’t help but feel that he may have been finding an echoing voice of love and contentment in the smooth and mournful vocals of England’s legendary piano man. He may have laughed.”
As for Bono, what a shit.
Good post BMD,
Would be inappropriate to comment on his rumoured ex-marital status at this time but that florid, navel-gazing article in SINDO is pretty excruciating.
Think Gerry was living in the Four Seasons before he got his Leeson St. place, so I’d imagine his bed was always made for him, and he probably had a cleaner/maid for his pad, given his 650K salary… As for watching Sky News, my guess is he would have been more inclined to watch the Adult Channels and have the odd ‘Tommy Tank’.
We are living in a post-Diana age wherein it seems that everybody seems to need to grieve copiously whenever a celebrity drops off this mortal coil, even if the celeb in question is completely lacking in any form of recognizable talent, e.g. Stephen Gateley.
Beyond the grief comes the speculation – did he/she die from loneliness/heartbreak/addiction to painkillers and expensive scotch whisky. Was there kinky sex involved? Were any animals harmed?
Will miss the Ryan, as I think he was generally extremely good at what he did on the radio, but hopeless on TV.
As for Bono, just check uTube for his sickening speech at the NAACP awards a couple of years back. The guy is extremely deluded.
The thought of Gerry watching Television X while furiously taking Captain Picard to warp speed is an arresting one.
Just watched that Bono NAACP video now and Jesus Cunting Christ, if it isn’t the most uncomfortable viewing I’ve ever endured.
Here’s something for everyone to look at. It’s a very strange tribute to Gerry Ryan.
Much better than this awful thing:
Thankyou for your blog on todays Sindo re Gerry Ryan. I thought the Late Late Show did a wonderful, fitting tribute to the man. But the Sindo coverage – well, amateur self serving shite. And no I truly have never read a more ridiculous article than the one you referenced. Every single discrepancy you listed jarred with me to the point I had to Google this and see if anyone out there was equally mystified. Naval gazing horse shite sums it up. Its such a pity that given the wide circulation of the newspaper, they couldn’t raise the bar a bit, even for one of our own. Artless, classless and as usual, insensitive……
Spooky!
Uh-Oh! SpaghettiOs!!
I liked the HARDCORE RIP video best.
This is a comment from another youtube vid:
“fact is wether you like it or not,ryan was a coke-head also mad for the brandy,and seriously obese,had it comin,no shock here…i liked the guy, very entertaining but that kind of hedonistic lifestyle can only lead to an early bath…also heard it on good authority that he died in debt,i mean he was on 10k a week and he dies in debt,go figure…”
In debt? Jesus where did all the money go. I can’t afford to go over €6 a day.
The article you reference is indeed some load of shite. This “cold, silent, lonely” imagery jars with the reality of him being highly active and stressed out. Downing coke on top of alcohol was a pretty dumb move, especially if sleeping pills were in the mix.