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Irish Times
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Naomi Moore: ‘I'd love to go back to having no fear of anything'
How agreeable are you? I think I go with the flow quite a lot. At work, I'm agreeable until I really want to do something, and I'll make sure that gets done. Ultimately, I would say I'm agreeable unless I'm pushed too much. What's your middle name and what do you think of it? I'm Naomi Therese Marcella. My mother wasn't sure what to call me. I think she picked out Naomi first and then thought if people didn't like it, we could go with Therese. Marcella was my dad's mom's name, and that was picked to maybe ingratiate me in the will, but I didn't get anything! Where is your favourite place in Ireland? Naul, my home in Fingal, Co Dublin, where we've spent 20 years refurbishing a lovely old cottage that we have extended, renovated and put our own touches to. Naul is a sleepy village, pretty, untouched. Everyone knows everybody, so you can walk into the village pub or the Séamus Ennis Arts Centre at any time, and there's someone that you know. I love it. Describe yourself in three words. Creative. Chaos. Co-ordinator. READ MORE When did you last get angry? My husband may have seen me angry twice, my friends would probably have never seen me angry, and at work, rarely. If I do, it's usually because someone has been unfair or someone has been hurt. I never like to waste my energy on anger, so it's very rare. It takes a lot to wind me up. You have to really annoy me. [ Ireland's 'film censor' Ciarán Kissane: 'My mother told me I watched too much TV and now I watch movies for a living' Opens in new window ] What have you lost that you would like to have back? When you're in your 20s, you're totally bulletproof, and you don't have to think twice about anything. I'd still be a little bit like that, but not as much as I used to be. I'd love to go back to having no fear of anything. What is your strongest childhood memory? We grew up in Portmarnock , and my dad worked for a plastics factory; they made sturdy, thick bags for fuel like peat and coal. When I was about six, my brothers put me into one of them, tied the top with a big rope, tied the rope at the top of a tree and then launched me out. I'd go spinning around and around the tree until the bag whacked into it, and then I would spin back again. I think that's where I got the adrenaline buzz. Every photograph from that summer in the family album is of me in the bag! Where do you come in your family's birth order, and has it defined you? Being the baby of six has absolutely defined me. By the time I arrived, my parents had almost completely given up on discipline. That didn't work with the first five, so why bother with me? The fact that there were six kids meant you had to share – not only food and clothes but also love, kindness and generosity, all of which my mother instilled in us. My family gave me creativity, fearlessness, compassion, empathy and fairness. What do you expect to happen when you die? I would hope you get to see all the people you've lost, to hang out with them and have good fun. [ Only children: 'I have great colleagues, some are as close to me as any family members I could wish for' Opens in new window ] When were you happiest? I'm always happy, genuinely. I had a great childhood. I loved school. I still have friends that I was in kindergarten with. I boarded at Drogheda Grammar School, and I have great friends from there, too. Then, at 20, I met my business partners at the recording studio, which is where I met my husband. I'm now in a more reflective period where I'm happy to have chats in old pubs rather than going out clubbing. I'm always happy at whatever stage I'm at. I think I was born under a lucky star. Which actor would play you in a biopic about your life? I'd love Rosanna Arquette to do it. She could put on an Irish accent. I've always liked her and kind of identified with her for some reason. What's your biggest career/personal regret? It's boring, but I don't have any at all. In my personal life, I've always seemed to fall into a lucky space. I have great relationships with my family and my friends, and I've a wonderful husband. Career-wise, it's the same. I'm in a job that changes constantly, and I've had the opportunity to work with a broad range of people, all the way from Bon Jovi and 50 Cent to Hozier and Lewis Capaldi. Have you any psychological quirks? I probably have lots, but my main one is that I can't eat carrots unless they're cooked whole and roasted. If they're boiled, I won't eat them – I can't even stand the smell of them – and if they're chopped in circles, I can't eat them, either. In conversation with Tony Clayton-Lea
Fox News
23-07-2025
- Politics
- Fox News
Sen. Slotkin claims Democrats are too worried about making people mad, 'p---ing off people on the Internet'
Sen. Elissa Slotkin, D-Mich., says that Democrats are too worried about making people angry and "constrain" themselves too much.
Mail & Guardian
23-07-2025
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
Evil doesn't wait for language: We must name xenophobia for what it is
Xenophobia is fear and anger weaponised against the vulnerable – and it's deadly. File photo A friend recently commented on a Facebook post I shared about the counter-protest we held against Operation Dudula on Thursday, 17 July 2025. She referred to something Thabo Mbeki once said to a group of African congregants: 'What is xenophobia in our African languages?' Apparently, the room went quiet. She was suggesting that maybe, if we don't have a word for xenophobia in our languages, the concept itself is foreign — or maybe not real in the way it's being described. She went on to say that people who do have the words — shaped by other histories — sometimes use those words not to understand others, but to control them or to feel morally superior. And that those who are being labelled often have every reason to reject the labels, because they weren't part of shaping the words in the first place. She said if we really took the time to listen, we might discover that there's no hate at all — just frustration and disillusionment. I've been thinking about that. And I want to respond not just in the comments but more publicly here. The fact that a word doesn't exist in a language doesn't mean the thing it describes doesn't exist. Patriarchy, racism, apartheid — all of these systems existed long before we had names for them. Evil doesn't wait for language. It just acts. And this argument — that something doesn't exist because there's no word for it — has been used before. Hendrik Verwoerd said apartheid wasn't oppression, it was just 'separate development'. They tried to rename injustice to make it sound benign. But we all know renaming it didn't make it any less violent. If anything, it made it harder to fight. The same is true of xenophobia. I've stood face-to-face with Operation Dudula in the streets — at Hilbrow Clinic, where people were being chased away from medical care simply because they were foreign nationals. I was there at Yeoville Market when they were protesting to get rid of long-time traders, and that market ended up burned down. I've stood toe-to-toe with them on many occasions. And I've also sat down with their leaders. I've had proper sit-down meetings with them — some of them former branch leaders. I've spent hours listening to them. I've brought documented evidence to show that what they were saying wasn't true. I've tried to have real conversations. I've listened to stories from leaders in the Free State. I've listened. I've negotiated. I've tried to understand. But I've also heard the scapegoating. The blaming. I've seen the twisting of truth to justify violence. And that's what we have to call it — violence. I've also walked with the people who've suffered because of this movement. I've taken people to police stations to lay charges. I've sat with community members from across the country who've been threatened, beaten, chased and traumatised. Let me tell you about Dido. He was a refugee from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. One day, he was chased down the street in Johannesburg with people shouting, 'foreigner!' A dog was set on him. It mauled him for four hours before someone finally intervened. He was taken to Baragwanath Hospital and lay in a coma for three months. After he was discharged, I took him into my home in Orange Grove to help him recover. Later, we arranged for him to move in with a fellow Congolese man who could support him more long-term. But during another wave of xenophobic attacks, Dido was chased again. The stress triggered a fragment from his original injury to dislodge. He suffered a stroke and died. I mourned him as a friend and a brother. What do we call that, if not hatred? Then there's my friend Nthombi. She was eight months pregnant, selling mielies on the pavement in Orange Grove. A leader from Operation Dudula from the Free State approached her, shouted at her, and violently overturned her mielie stand. I was there. I helped her pick up the pieces. Later, I sat down with that very man for three hours in a church-mediated conversation. I listened to him. And I didn't hear justice. I heard fear, I heard blame, and I heard an unwillingness to see her humanity. And then there's Elvis Nyathi. He was a 43-year-old Zimbabwean man living in Diepsloot. During a door-to-door 'inspection' he couldn't produce an ID. He was dragged from his home, beaten, doused in petrol, and necklaced — burned alive. I stood with his mother while his body was loaded into the hearse. I held her. I said, 'I'm so sorry.' What words are enough to describe that kind of horror? This isn't just frustration. This isn't just disillusionment. This is fear and anger weaponised against the vulnerable. It is xenophobia. And if we don't name it, we're complicit in it. But there's something else I've seen — something that gives me hope. At the counter-protest this past week against Operation Dudula, we weren't alone. Abahlali baseMjondolo came. Informal Traders Associations. The recyclers. The Inner City Federation. Civil society allies. It's no exaggeration to say that more than 90% of the people on our side of that protest were poor South Africans — people living in shacks, in inner-city slums, in difficult, often horrific, conditions. These were not the elite. These were the people Dudula claims to speak for. And yet, these are the people who stood up and said: 'No. The problem isn't that we have foreign nationals living here. The problem is the unhealed legacy of apartheid. The problem is inequality. The problem is corruption, and neoliberalism, and capitalism. The problem is a government that has failed to deliver justice.' These are people who know hardship. And they know that turning on their neighbours is not the answer. These are the people who reflect the heart of Africa. Who embody ubuntu. They believe that South Africa — and Africa — belongs to all who live in it. They believe the Freedom Charter wasn't just words. That we must give it meaning. That we must fight for land, for justice, for economic transformation. That we must build real solidarity, not deepen division. We also need to name something else. Operation Dudula isn't just some organic grassroots uprising. It is deeply influenced by the thinking and structure of colonialism. It upholds borders that were drawn by colonial powers — borders that split families and communities and turned African neighbours into strangers. It promotes a nationalism rooted not in Pan-African unity but in division and exclusion. And if we're honest, the language and tactics being used carry disturbing echoes of fascism — of movements in history that mobilised poor people's pain to justify violence against scapegoated groups. So no, we may not have always had the word 'xenophobia' in indigenous African languages. But we've known the pain and lived the trauma. Let's not be distracted by whether we have the perfect word. Let's ask whether there is harm. And if there is, let's name it and deal with it. Nigel Branken is a social worker, pastor and activist. He leads , a civil society organisation committed to building solidarity with marginalised communities and confronting injustice. His work focuses on resisting xenophobia, defending human rights, and promoting systemic change. He has recently joined the South African Communist Party, aligning himself with its vision of justice, equality and collective liberation.
CTV News
21-07-2025
- CTV News
Drunk driver sentenced to 6 years in prison
There was anger and tears in an Ottawa courtroom, as a driver was sentenced to six years in prison for a fatal 2023 crash. CTV's Katelyn Wilson has more.
CNN
21-07-2025
- Sport
- CNN
Wyndham Clark feels ‘terrible' about Oakmont locker damage and says he will make good
Wyndham Clark said Sunday he feels 'terrible' about damaging a locker at century-old Oakmont during the US Open and that he wants to make good with the Pittsburgh-area country club and longtime US Open site. Club president John Lynch sent Oakmont members a letter last week saying Clark would not be allowed back on the property until he paid for repairs and got counseling for his anger. Media were not allowed in the locker room, but a photo was leaked. 'I feel terrible with what happened. I'm doing anything I can to try to remedy the situation,' Clark said after he shot 65 in the final round and tied for fourth in the British Open. 'We're trying to keep it private between Oakmont, myself and the USGA. … I'm hoping we can get past this and move on and hope there's no ill will towards me and Oakmont.' It's been a rough year for Clark, who was on the verge of missing a second straight cut in a major when he opened with a 76 at Royal Portrush. He rallied with rounds of 66-66-65 for his best finish in a major since he won the 2023 US Open. He also threw a club at the PGA Championship after a poor tee shot that damaged a sign and nearly hit a volunteer. 'I've been pretty open about my mental shift and change to get better, and I did that in '23 and '24,' Clark said. 'And then having a tough year and all the expectations and just frustration all coming together, and I did two stupid things. 'But one thing that it did do is wake me up and get me back into the person I know I am and the person I want to be,' he said. 'I hope those things don't reflect because I don't think they reflect on who I am, and going forward that stuff is not going to happen again.' The US Open returns to Oakmont in 2033, the final year of Clark's exemption for winning. Asked if he expected to be there, Clark said: 'I don't know. That's up to them. I would hope so. It's a fantastic course and place. I did something awful, and I'm really sorry for it. 'Hopefully, they have it in their heart to forgive me, and maybe in the future I'll be able to play there.' Lynch said in the letter, which was obtained by Golf Digest, that reinstatement would depend on Clark paying for damage, making a meaningful contribution to a charity of the Oakmont board's choice and completing an anger management course. 'Obviously, it's a no-brainer to pay for the damages. That was a given,' Clark said. 'Then obviously all the apologies, and I want to give back to the community because I hurt a great place in Pittsburgh, so I wanted to do anything I can to show them that what happened there was not a reflection of who I am and won't happen again.'
