SOMETIMES WEIRD THINGS happen during the week and they just can’t wait for a Saturday morning column.

That was the case on Thursday when I became one of the few dozen people who will ever see the instantly infamous waxwork model of Sinéad O’Connor in the flesh, before it was almost as instantly scrapped. 

Naturally, I don’t like to double-dip when writing about the strange events of the week. I’ve already given my two cents about the Sinéad O’Connor waxwork. It feels like cheating to write about it some more. And yet… The story has continued to unfold since yesterday, and unfold in a consistently strange fashion.

The sculpture of O’Connor lasted little more than a day on display. A public outcry over both the statue’s appearance and its intergalactic milieu – unveiled as it was in the Star Wars section of the museum – became too much for managing director Paddy Dunning to bear. That backlash reached a crescendo when O’Connor’s own brother John called into Liveline on Friday afternoon and condemned the sculpture as “hideous” and called for it to be removed. Having earlier told The Irish Sun he’d be shelving the figure, Dunning called in to the show to apologise personally and acquiesce to O’Connor’s demand.

Other callers into the show described the reproduction as “vile,” “grotesque” and “disgusting”. Dunning pinned most of the blame on how the sculpture looked, which is to miss the point more than a little bit. The museum stated it had been their goal to represent O’Connor in the “most fitting and respectful manner”. It’s hard to dignify this claim with a response, not least because that response would have to include the words ‘Darth Vader’.

Dunning’s excuse that he had not seen the sculpture until the morning of its launch reflects poorly on the organisation rather than on the artist, PJ Heraty. That a media launch would be set in stone before the thing being launched has been reviewed even once borders on implausible and is, if true, a self-evidently foolish decision. Similarly, there is no reason to believe that Heraty was involved in the farcical presentation of the statue, which situated the singer a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

It is hard not to feel for Heraty, who has worked as a wax sculptor for 40 years and yesterday told journalists that the project had taken him nine months rather than his usual three, due to a health concern. Heraty also confirmed that the work would be his last before retirement. That his work has come in for such harsh criticism when the museum itself bears responsibility for overseeing, executing and presenting the idea seems more than a little unfair.

The outcry itself is nevertheless understandable. Sinéad O’Connor has long meant a great deal to a great many people in Ireland, and the unseemly way in which her likeness was used this week – a year since her untimely passing – was not pleasant. The museum has said it now looks forward to “unveiling a new figure that truly honours Sinéad O’Connor and her extraordinary impact”. This is just one online columnist’s opinion, but maybe Sinéad O’Connor and her extraordinary impact would be best honoured in a way that does not involve sculpting her out of wax so tourists can pay money to take pictures with the result.

Still, the Liveline discussion reached a harmonious conclusion, with Dunning speaking fondly of his friendship with Sinéad and setting up a call with John O’Connor, who accepted Dunning’s apology. The two expressed support for a statue to memorialise O’Connor either in Dublin city centre or in Bray, where she had lived for many years. Liveline, you’ve done it again.

A waxwork of Sinéad O’Connor has been unveiled at Dublin’s National Wax Museum Plus pic.twitter.com/xcpxchC9Gs

— Carl Kinsella (@TVsCarlKinsella) July 25, 2024

Clonduff says ‘No’

In the north this week there was an episode of localised hysteria over a proposal to establish a temporary Irish language school in the town of Clonduff. 

Hundreds of people attended a town hall meeting held by a group called Clonduff Concerned Residents. As previously stated, their concern is that the Irish language might exist in close proximity to them, in the form of a primary school.

Speaking at the event, loyalist activist Moore Holmes complained that the Irish language “has been weaponised by others who seek to advance Irish identity and culture into areas that do not identify with it and do not want or support it”.

Unionist agitator and nuisance Jamie Bryson put a finer point on the concern by asking: “How long before little children in a unionist area like East Belfast are being indoctrinated into playing GAA for PE?” Who could help but take such reasonable concerns seriously.

Strange, isn’t it? To be reminded that there are places on earth where the Irish identity remains unwelcome. Stranger still to think that such places exist on the island of Ireland. Could there be a lesson here for certain sections of the Irish population right now? After all, surely this sort of attitude represents a significantly more meaningful challenge to Irish identity than the imagined crimes of international protection applicants who haven’t been here a wet week.

It would be nice to beam this onto a billboard for Ireland’s own cohort of exclusionary agitators to show them how they sound to the rest of us but it’s unlikely such an endeavour would bear any fruit. Still, for those among us who are still normal, it is worth bearing in mind that the rhetoric raised by those who lead these protests sit far outside what is actually happening in Ireland, and the actual challenges faced by Irish language, identity and culture. 

That’s quite a lot of money

Speaking of challenges faced by Irish culture, by the way: RTÉ, man. 

Even the most staunch supporter of public service broadcasting in Ireland will have winced at the €725 million in funding announced by the government this week. The oft-criticised, scandal-riven national broadcaster will receive the money over the next three years through government top-ups and the maintenance of the licence fee – a distinction without too much of a difference, given that it’s all our money, at the end of the day.

Director General Kevin Bakhurst has insisted that the money should not be thought of as “rewarding a series of mistakes that RTÉ made,” but realistically, that’s how most people are going to think of it. There is no denying that RTÉ faces huge external pressures from streaming giants, from Sky, from Virgin Media – but it is their own failure to find a way to appeal to the masses that has seen licence fee revenue crumble and respect for RTÉ dissolve.

At a time when so many other avenues of Irish life feel underfunded, it galls people to think that RTÉ will be given €241m a year for another attempt at brainstorming the new Love/Hate, for Miriam O’Callaghan to post passive aggressive videos on social media about her pronunciation of ‘Kamala Harris’, and for the goddamn RTÉ Player to still play six ads every time you refresh it or fast-forward.

But at least Liveline is still serving some kind of purpose.