For more than 150 years, a gigantic phallic monument to Lord
Nelson was plopped in the middle of one of the main drags in Dublin. It was
erected (sorry) by the Dublin Corporation (city government) to pay homage to the
victor at Trafalgar, not so different, actually, from the one in Trafalgar
Square in London.
Then, in March 1966, the top of the pillar—Nelson’s statue—was blown
up, presumably by members of the IRA kitted out with explosives from their pals
in ETA. The remainder of the phallus was subsequently removed as a hazard.
For more than 20 years, Dubliners mulled over what to do with the
space, and in 1997 The Corpo opened a design competition to replace the Pillar.
The winning design was a 120-meter metallic spike, signifying nothing, really,
except that you could build it.
Seriously—it has no meaning.
(Okay, the winning architectural firm called it the Spire of
Dublin, and described it as an “elegant and dynamic simplicity bridging art and
technology.” Whatever. They alternatively called it the Monument of Light, which
makes me think of Albert Speer’s Cathedral of Light, so, no.)
Well, at least it's not a British admiral. Or a Starbucks.
But naturally, as I was walking back to my hotel from 14 Henrietta Street, I noticed it, and I had to shoot some photos.
However—and this comes under the category of “don’t try this at
home, kids”—I got a little carried away with trying to capture the entire 120
meters in the shot. As I was concentrating on it—and fighting with the bloody
LED screen on my digital P&S camera—I became aware of a quiet, repetitive
sound somewhere in the area. Eventually I looked up and realized what the repetitive noise was. (When
I got back to my hotel I saw that I’d caught it on camera, but because you can’t
see anything in the sunlight on an LED screen, I didn’t realize it at the time.)
And I scooted.
Sorry, LUAS driver. I am a total idiot.
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