savage eye on a celtic-tiger icon
Glenda Gilson was the patron saint of the Celtic Tiger. For those too young to remember, let me explain: Glenda Gilson was the Georgia Salpa of her day. She regularly appeared in the paper in a bikini standing beside outsized novelty fruit, and was often found on the arms of sportsmen and billionaires. She was the best kind of famous (pointlessly famous), but sadly, like the boom itself, Glenda soon left the spotlight and sank into anonymity.
O'Brien argued that there was more to Pio than met the eye. Walsh insisted that there was less. The data is inconclusive. Photos of Padre Pio in a bikini beside outsized novelty fruit have yet to surface.
On Wednesday's Last Word, Dame Street-based shop owner Frank McQuade proclaimed himself at his wits' end with the Occupy encampment blocking the view of his business.
Frank explained that he had tried to engage with the protesters, but that the group had no leaders and so were slow in their responses.
A well-meaning protester called William sympathised. He explained that the group had no leaders and so were slow in their responses. This was no help. Frank needed to make money. William offered to make him some art.
Art made of money? On Tuesday's Moncrieff, Henry McKean visited Frank Buckley's artistic creation: a house made of millions in shredded out-of-circulation bank notes. The only way this could be a more perfect icon of the boom would be if Glenda Gilson stood beside it in a bikini.