Irish Examiner view: Paralympics finale brings curtain down on six great weeks for Team Ireland
Team Ireland flagbearers Ellen Keane and Michael Murphy carrying the tricolour during the closing ceremony of the Paris 2024 Paralympic Games. Picture: Harry Murphy/Sportsfile
Holding back the surging tide of misused language may be akin to the parable of the little Dutch boy sticking his finger into the leaking dam.
But, as the happy end to that tale indicates, futility is not an argument against doing the right thing. A new book by the author Simon Heffer tries to stanch the flow of an increasingly homogenous language whose motherlode runs through digital communications and social media.
In Ireland, we have long been aware that altering the roots of local language is a form of cultural colonialism. One of Brian Friel’s most famous plays, , mines that seam with profound insight. It has been reinterpreted in myriad locations where identity matters — Belarus, Ukraine, Catalunya, Aotearoa/New Zealand — and is regarded as a seminal work.
The darkly comic film , about a hip-hop group performing in Irish, makes a clear connection between retaining original language and a nation’s sense of itself.
“Every word of Irish spoken is a bullet fired for Irish freedom,” says the paramilitary Arló Ó Cairealláin, played by Michael Fassbender.
Readers will have their own lists of overused, everywhere-all-at-once phrases and words that have become a deadening lingua franca with all the diversity-destroying charms of a crown-of-thorns starfish.
Heffer has his own bugbears: Back in the day; calling out; doubling down; stepping up to the plate; thinking outside the box; different than; enormity; I’m good; starting over; obligated. It’s a long list, and you may find some of your favourite dislikes on there.
Thankfully, we appear to have passed through the period of peak “perfect storm” where every conceivable setback could be explained by a catastrophic combination of circumstances beyond the control of mortal people.
It never was true, although Google records its use more than 24bn times in 10 years. To some, railing against such solecisms will be the observations of a pedant. To others, they indicate an inability to think creatively and with originality. We must each decide what we are the next time we are tempted to slip in a cliché.
On Saturday, we wondered why more influencers were not imbued with a crusading spirit to help their fellow citizens caught in the consumer squeeze. “Where are the equivalents of Ralph Nader and Erin Brockovich?” we asked.
Now we know. The list of locations that have been overwhelmed by the Instagram and TikTok generation is long, but novelty is difficult to find. When the world is sated with pictures of the Grand Canal in Venice, or Santorini in the Greek Cyclades, or Bixby Creek Bridge on the Big Sur, then any self-respecting influencer has to up their game.
And how about taking the photo op somewhere few people know about and are unlikely to want to visit? Genius!
Presumably the TikTokkers who used ladders and ropes to break into the abandoned Cork Prison for a video stunt felt the enterprise was worthwhile. It was, said one of them on social media, “the best abandoned building I was ever in”.
Videos showed paint peeling from walls while items scattered around the cell-block corridors included food wrappers and clothing. “Amazing”, said another of the thrill seekers.
People’s pleasure thresholds can vary. But this sounds like one experience that won’t make it onto the bucket list.





