It was one of many illuminating moments, in the Hot Press Speakeasy at Forbidden Fruit. John Colleary, a scriptwriter for The Savage Eye, and a stand-up comic of some stand(up)ing, was talking gags with Roe McDermott.

He was asked if there was a need for more comedy that explores what it means to be Irish – or words to that effect. Even the thought of it got him going. No, he declared. There’s been far too much of that already! It’s about time everyone shut up about being Irish.
“We think everyone loves us,” he said, emphatically. “But they don’t.” And he had a story to prove it.
He was, he explained, in a bar in Thailand at 4am, back in the noughties, watching a football match between Manchester United and Wigan, with his mate from Dublin. A guy from Norway was sitting on a bar stool nearby. Eventually he plucked up the courage to ask a simple and not unreasonable question, given what they were ogling on the box: “Are you from England?”
Colleary’s mate was affronted.
“Nooooo,” he said, puffing out his chest and affecting a smug expression. “You must be jooooking.”
It was all enunciated in classic bar-stool Dublin-ese.
“We’re from Oiiiireland,” he announced and gave that old super-friendly Paddy grin, in expectation of a pat on the metaphorical back. “Oiiiireland, not England,” he added in case the other fella hadn’t understood properly. But the Norwegian had the measure of him.
“Ah,” he said and nodded. “You all think you’re so fucking special.”
Now admittedly, this was five or six years ago. The Celtic Tiger was still riding high and a certain stratum of Irish people were prone behaving like boors.
The Irish had historically been identified as plucky outsiders, who’d taken on the might of the British empire and scored a watershed victory. Great. We were congenitally modest, enjoyed a sing-song and were good fun to have a few drinks with. What was not to like?
But there was a shift in both behaviour and perception when we found ourselves towards the top end of the world’s ‘rich league’. On the one hand, a strain of arrogance had crept in, as if we – or some of us at least – believed that the money and the holidays in the sun and the fancy cars were a product of the fact that we were better and smarter and more intelligent than the rest. We didn’t just want bling. We were fucking entitled to it!
And then there was the perception. The Norwegians, the Swedes, the Germans, the French and the rest of them must all have looked at us and thought: how come these jumped up little bunch of posers have more money to throw around than the rest of us? We’d better take them down a peg or two.
Which is what John Colleary’s Norwegian friend did in spectacularly effective grumpy put-down style.

For a start, the idea that we should be welcomed with open arms everywhere we go because we are not English is preposterous. I know it might sound like stating the obvious, but we need to get this much straight: there is no one nationality – English, Scottish, German, Greek, Italian, Irish – that is intrinsically better or worse than the rest.
Historically, there may well have been a kind of arrogance about the way in which a lot of British people related to the world. It was a vestige of the mentality associated with the British Empire, when Britannia ruled the waves and the 26 counties to boot. But that is a long time ago, and – a few stuffed-up toffs aside – English people have left it well behind. The ones I know are decent, positive, gracious, friendly, tolerant and thoroughly likable – just like Irish people, the vast majority of whom are generous and kind of heart. But we have our share of vultures, cynics and creeps about the place too. It is the same the world over.
No matter where they are from, people have a similar capacity for good and evil. But there are differences in culture and attitude: it is, in other words, possible for any society to decide to do things differently. This is what distinguishes, say, Canada from Saudi Arabia. In one country they allow gay marriage. In the other they flog homosexuals.
In making important decisions about how we shape our society, the aim should be to liberate all of our citizens to be more fully themselves. In Ireland’s case we have the opportunity to fashion a place where to be kind, considerate, compassionate, open, liberal, hard-working, committed to one another, creative and – perhaps, above all, like so many of the English that I know – tolerant, is understood to be the hallmark of civilisation. I always hoped that these would be the kind of qualities that might define the Ireland of the future. Perhaps they still can be.
“You think you’re all so fucking special.”
It is a damning judgement. So let’s stop ‘thinking’ and focus instead on creating the kind of society where everyone has the optimum chance of thriving. Let’s put in place the policies which support those most in need, and which break down barriers, to the greatest extent possible, between the different classes, colours, ethnic groups and social strata that occupy this tiny island.
It is about being visionary in the way in which we organise our small world so that the structures we put in place, the policies we pursue and the outcomes that we achieve become a model of best practice.

History may already have gifted this status to us in certain spheres. Whatever the combination of social, political and linguistic conditions, we became a nation of story-tellers. We have among us, demonstrably, a disproportionate number of significant poets, novelists, comedians, musicians, songwriters and tunesmiths. But there is no guarantee that it will ever be thus. We need to nurture this cultural motherlode, in the same way that we need to nurture our quality foods, our clean beaches and our young sporting talent.
Where music is concerned, we do have a spark. Here in Hot Press, we have just finished running The Big Break competition, with ALCATEL ONE TOUCH as our partners. The quality of the artists on the ‘long-list’ of thirty was genuinely staggering. At the age of just 17, the winner Katie Laffan, who is featured on our special ‘flip-cover’ this issue, has proven herself to be a truly extraordinary talent. Her original entry ‘Soldiers’ was a very fine track. She subsequently went one better with the submission of ‘Bubbly’ – a wonderfully infectious piece of Lovers’ Rock that has hit single written all over it.
But within the top thirty, there were many others of similarly far-reaching potential, including Kodakid, Mark Buckeridge, Cfit, Rams’ Pocket Radio, Children of the Son and Riot Tapes, to name just six, who all delivered tracks of great heft and character. The seam of quality runs deep.
It really does. Listen to the new Bell X1 album, which opens with the very beautiful ‘Starlings Over Brighton Pier’. It is just one superb song among many on a record which sees the band ascend to new heights of artistic purpose. I can hear it on film soundtracks. I can see it in the charts. If there is any justice in the world, it will be huge.
And then take a listen to Kodaline’s debut – also just out this week. These guys may be young, but they are musicians through and through, who have a fine understanding of how to craft songs that resonate spell-bindingly. On tracks like ‘High Hopes’ and ‘Love Like This’, they have created anthems that work precisely because the whole noise is greater than the sum of the parts.
Across the entire range of what we do here in Ireland, we have to strive to make achievements of this kind possible. Whether in science, technology, food, agriculture, events, tourism, festivals, architecture, education or the arts, the role of government is to provide the context for Irish citizens – and I include in this everyone who wants to come here to join us in the project – to do great work.
We are not special as a ‘race’, a country or a people. But we can achieve brave, brilliant and exciting things that are in themselves special. If our vision is ambitious enough, and we start to lead the way on vital issues, we can make not just Ireland but the world a better place.