Liv Tyler is tall and slim with long dark hair. So am I. Liv Tyler cannot tell left from right, and finds driving intermittently challenging. So do I. Liv Tyler knows a lot about hobbits. So do I. Liv Tyler sleeps with rock stars (well one in particular). So do I, when I get the opportunity (although I donâ€™t narrow my options so much, not having bagged one yet).
However, Iâ€™m not Liv Tyler. I know this, because I do not have incredibly beautiful eyes and translucent skin, nor do I have a lifestyle that involves getting paid to go and live in New Zealand, or free dresses to wear to the Oscars.
Iâ€™m quite upset about all the kerfuffle around the IRA, their lying and thieving and hoodwinking of just about everyone over the last few years. Iâ€™m more than a little miffed at the thought that all the overtime put in during the nineties, by citizens of three countries, including the United States, the peace process might be about to be flushed down the toilet. I am annoyed that, having grown up in a country where it was possible to watch people being murdered live on television, my views are not considered important. I am particularly upset that seventy people saw Robert McCartney have his throat ripped open in a Belfast bar last week but theyâ€™re saying nothing because theyâ€™re too scared (I donâ€™t believe that for a second, pack of fence sitters).
But mostly I am upset, because Martin McGuinness, who I know to be a very clever man, seems to be under the illusion that he is not currently a member of the IRA Army Council. I was having breakfast on Sunday morning when I heard him quite clearly say that he was not, on live radio. And then he said that Gerry Adams never was, and I nearly choked on my toast.
Iâ€™m like everyone else riding the Celtic Tiger. I would like the peace process, and its dreary steeples, and its brown suited men, and its suave apologists, and its oppressive righteousness to go away. But it never does. And now I have to think about it again.
I thought about it yesterday morning when I saw a photo of Gerry Adams addressing a gathering of his supporters at a memorial for three IRA operatives who were assassinated by British troops (Iâ€™m being diplomatic in the use of my language here, knowing that some people felt the Troubles was a war). These people were wearing green military clothes and berets. Like the National Guard, or the Territorials. Only cooler of course, because Gerry Adams, architect of the peace process was there.