Talk Radio

Hello.....my name is Cubaboy and I'm addicted to talk radio......





I guess it all started when I was a young fella, like most young people I experimented when I was in secondary school, a little Gerry Ryan on a morning off, you know yourself. Then when I went to college it just seemed to be more freely available, and everyone seemed to be doing it. Call it peer pressure or maybe I just had too much time on my hands but what was just a recreational thing became a full blown addiction. I rarely made it into college before mid day (Ryan being on from nine until twelve) I managed to hide my secret and didn't let it affect my work. That was until one day I went to get my daily fix and Gerry Ryan wasn't available ( I think he was on holidays or something), all I was left with was Niall Prenderville on 96fm. I didn't want it at first but I needed something. Had I known then what I know now I would have run a mile.

At first I found Prenderville opinionated, annoying and the amount of breaks he took drove me mad, but the quality of provincial nutcase you got more than made up for it. In a short space of time I was hooked. Even when Ryan came back I just couldn't go back to listening to him, it just didn't give me the same buzz. I see now that Ryan was a gateway to harder talk radio.








My addiction grew from there until eventually the inevitable happened and I tried a little Joe Duffy. My first experience was wonderful, indescribable, to quote Trainspotting "think of the best sex you've ever had and multiple it by an thousand and you still don't come close". Some woman in Louth called Ethna had bought a suite of furniture and it hadn't arrived on time. By the time Joe was finished with the furniture company I was baying for blood. The exhilaration of the opening music, the ecstasy of the "good afternoon to you" in that flat Dublin working class accent, the way he can make the most meaningless incident seem like the end of the world, all left me wanting more!! The level of absolute stupidity from some of the cranks astounded me. The depths to which Joe will plumb to fill an hour of radio is incredible...and I loved it all. At the height of my addiction I was listening to up to eighteen hours of talk radio. I listen to The News on Radio One from seven to nine (with Cathal MaCuila), then Prendeville until twelve, then Joe for an hour, then Sean Moncrief on News Talk, then Matt Cooper's Last Word show on Today FM, then Eoin McDevit on Newstalk, once I even listened to Victor Barry on "Cork Talks Back" (Red FM) but even I couldn't handle the level of muck.

Well it had to come to an end eventually I suppose. I knew I'd hit rock bottom yesterday when I found myself listening to Derek Mooney and smiling to myself at his light entertainment afternoon show. I knew right there and then that I had a problem. Immediately I turned that radio off. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. How has it affected my life? Well I've been unable to motivate myself to find a proper job. since I left college I've worked in two well paid dead end jobs. Due to the easy availability of talk radio I just can't motivate myself to get back out there and find a more fulfilling job. Will I ever recover fully.....I don't know but with the help of God and the support of my friends and family I'm taking it one day at a time. Maybe one day I'll reach a happier place where I don't need talk radio.

Disorder Affected by Season

Unless you've been imprisoned by your rapist father in a dungeon for the last week you will have noticed that we're getting somewhat of a hot spell. Greens up and down the land are crammed with children out playing ball, beaches are thronged with drunken youths doing donuts in their souped up punto's, ice cream vans are doing roaring trade and I'm fucking miserable.



It's not just the usual malcontent I feel towards fellow human beings, this is a more deeply felt ennui. Every child's scream of delight as it chases a ball seems to go right through me. Every smiling face enrages me. Every fat bird in her strapy top, corn beef arms and cankles turns my stomach.



I knew this just wasn't me so I decided to consult one of my medical journals. To my astonishment I have a very serious disorder call DAS (Disorder Affected by Season). Quite like SAD, DAS is far more prevalent than you may think and is thought to affect roughly one in every 6.5billion people worldwide. Symptoms can include a pain in the hole (figuratively not literally), downness of the mouth area, a ten percent increase in curmudgeonliness and murderous thoughts about those around you. If you feel any of these thoughts you may be suffering from DAS.



On the heels of my diagnosis I decided not to let DAS rule my life. I'm not going to be a victim, I'm going to be an example for all other DAS sufferers out there. It's to that end that I'm organising a fund raiser in my back garden this weekend. And all funds raised will go to sufferers of DAS. Unfortunately I cannot invite any people to the function since the very sight of people can turn me into a murderous rage, so if you would like to donate please send me an email with your bank details