Potential, my friends. Potential. That hidden quality. That quality which to the wrong eyes is insignificant but to the right ones is unquantifiably vast — It’s finally been realised in Ireland’s most unquantifiable of sons. After years spent wasting his talents on fish hooking and student abuse, Paul Galvin may soon work on Ireland’s entertainment powerhouse, its quirkily spelt Xtraganaza: Xposé
If this is just a rumour, then it’s the strangest rumour I have ever heard on a reputable Irish news website. But if it’s true? I for one am delighted.
First up: I think that Paul Galvin is a thug who shouldn’t be let near a football pitch, never mind a classroom. Justifying anything he’s done as ‘passion’ belittles every other passionate player who happily go through a whole season without being suspended. And if what he does is ‘passion’ then maybe if he played slightly less passionately, we’d all talk a lot more about his obvious skill and talents rather than his rampant stupidity.
But Xposé? Now that’s something he could sink his teeth into. Literally, maybe. I wouldn’t put it past him. Interview through blood-letting and pant-wetting. He might become one of the most feared and respected entertainment journalists of our time. A Dennis Pennis character, only very much real, very much abusive, very much a man who would rob your gates and sell them back to you.
He has the characterized dishevelment of journalists of old – rumpled suit, shaggy face growth. He’d slot right in — the perfect ointment for the arse piles that is E!, TMZ and the rest of the star-lit studio perfection that’s rammed down our throats everyday. This is a man that could get the real story from Mel Gibson, by sitting him down and going on a two week bender with him, hiding the bodies of hookers in bags of cocaine and chalk dust. An entertainment journalist in the vein of Hunter S. Thompson and the Gonzo Journalists of old. Fear and Loathing in the Dingle Peninsula: A Savage Journey into the Heart of Irish Gombeenism.
Paul Galvin and his harem of Xposé totty — them travelling the globe to feed us with the banal, Galvin travelling the globe, sending in disconnected streams of prose and video reports, half remembered journal entries and envelopes full of celebrity blood and hair. And we will love every second of it. The realism, the truth, none of the airbrushed, breast-tweaked lies that are intravenously given to us through billboards and Sky News. Interviews and photos where black stars are still black.
Galvin could then becomes a celebrity himself — an Irish poet, a recluse who yet gets the story everytime. One who punches first and asks for a quote later, one who’s never afraid to fish hook his way out of situation. Paul Galvin: The Man Who Knocked Obama’s Dossier Out of His Hands.
I still won’t watch Xposé though. I’ll wait for the Paul Galvin spinoff.