Why don't councillors talk as much about homelessness at meetings anymore?
For years, homelessness was a standing item on the agenda at most housing committee meetings. But, recently it hasn’t featured as often.
Elite schools expect, and self-righteously demand, state support – while less-wealthy schools struggle, writes UCD political economy lecturer Andy Storey.
That could mean historic ships, or ones with a cultural or community purpose, or tall ships. Or, just cool-looking ones.
The council gets about 1,500 complaints a year about unauthorised development, and more than 100 cases end up subject to legal proceedings, a spokesperson said.
A worn little face, large-eared and deep-eyed, sits unassumingly on a building, tacked on to the old warehouse at Grand Canal Harbour. It used to have another home.
Given the city’s affordable housing crisis, how narrow a window of history should the Tenement Museum engage with in its tales of overcrowded living?
“They’re made for dancing,” says Tessie Carroll, pointing to the high heels the woman inspects before leaving empty-handed. “Jaysus, if you brought gold here they’d want silver.”
Women who survived the laundries should be heard and heeded, when it comes to the Sean McDermott Street site, but local residents should be listened too as well, they say.
The council had put in a bid, but says it’s been unsuccessful in securing the site – and that a private company has bought it instead.
The 88 council-owned homes are due to be redeveloped, but some residents want to know more about what the plan is – though they wonder whether they can trust whatever council officials may tell them.
Ciaran O’Byrne, who roams the city releasing trees from the ties to wooden stakes that strangle them, mourns the deaths last week of Crumlin village’s cherry trees.
In John Farrell’s new play, he tells the story of his life – born in Ireland, moved by the Sisters of Mercy to New York – up to the age of 25, when his first real love was murdered.
More than any other individual, it was the great Jackie Carey – hailing from Dublin’s north side – who turned the Irish public onto British football, writes a historian.