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Wednesday, June 16, 2004

There it is, then. On the centenary celebrations of Dublin's most famous Jew's journey across the city, I submit Dublin's most anonymous Jew's journey from his house to the gym. The little camera really did give up so the pics of all the pretty girlies lying on St Stephen's Green, the lucky ducks fucking in the public pond, the decrepit couples outside Davy Byrne's dressed as Bloom and entourage are lost forever.

I made this journey listening, for the first time, to a recording of us walking through the crowds at a festival last year while a band play in the distance. At one point I hear myself having to move out of the way of someone coming in the other direction, saying 'oops, sorry'. At that precise moment, on Grafton Street I find myself doing and saying exactly the same thing. I can't describe the feeling because it's so unusual.

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