Jonathan O’Brien

Jonathan O’Brien

Aerosmith’s Toxic Twin sinks in his own purple prose

Aerosmith’s Toxic Twin sinks in his own purple prose

Hitting the shelves a few months after Keith Richards‘ magisterial Life, Steven Tyler’s autobiography was always likely to suffer by comparison. Life is not just the best rock memoir ever written, it’s among the finest reads of the past decade.

TV Review

TV Review

From lands of milk to fields of money

Radio review

Radio review

Lesbian luminaries blessed by a queen

Radio review - A country diary for chattering classes

Radio review - A country diary for chattering classes

Those who regularly tune in to Today With Pat Kenny (RTE Radio 1) will be familiar with the well-bred tones of Marie-Louise O’Donnell, the DCU communications lecturer who turns up on the show at regular intervals.

The godfathers of sleaze

The godfathers of sleaze

MOM BOILED HER BABY AND ATE HIM. It’s a damn fine headline and a classic example of how to entice a reader into a story, but it’s not the greatest one ever printed by the National Enquirer. In fact, such is the Enquirer’s expertise in headline writin

Radio review

Radio review

A supermarket that sweeps all before it

Radio review

Radio review

The thief of Baghdad (and Mecca, and Cairo)

How the Blue Nile ran downhill

How the Blue Nile ran downhill

Coming home from a night out, you disembark from the Luas.

Radio review

Radio review

Radio at its most raw and shocking

No country for young women

No country for young women

Cataclysmic conflicts in impoverished, far off countries tend to receive minimal coverage in the First World media unless they either directly affect western interests or have an easily-simplified human interest angle.

TV review

TV review

Time to let Ryan debate rest in peace

TV review

TV review

Time to let Ryan debate rest in peace

Radio Review

Radio Review

Starting with a kebab, ending on a knockout

TV Review

TV Review

‘I don’t accept that.”

Giles’s epic game of life

Giles’s epic game of life

For those who can recall the direst excesses of Don Revie’s Leeds United in the 1970s, there’s some coal-black irony in the fact that John Giles is publishing his autobiography through Hachette, given what (by his own admission) he did to the shins o