CHICKENS AND THE CIVIL WAR: Prologue.

I told you I'd get around to it.

Please, PLEASE make comments, kids. Your feedback is appreciated.

He cannot remember it, but Louis Pound’s first dream was of trout.

The kaleidoscopic pre-natal visions that most people experience in the womb come late in the pregnancy, where they see the light before light, color before color. It’s hard to process past experience into subconscious nighttime entertainment when all you’ve ever done is float in the dark. They chase clouds of What across plains of Possibly, and wonder, in the untranslatable syntax of the nearly born, where all this warm panna cotta is coming from.

FLICK: Something completely unexpected happened today.

I saw a trailer for the new Robin Williams movie...and I laughed.

I'm not saying I'm going to see the movie. I'm just saying that I'm definitely not not going to see it.

CHEKIT: 1,667 words a day, for the next 30 days.

That's right, kids. Something had to get this piece of shit rolling and it might as well be the insanity of National Novel Writing Month. In case you haven't heard, NaNoWriMo is a challenge to writers of all stripes and talent levels during the month of November - write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. It's more of an sadomasochistic writing exercise than anything else, and a good way to build a framework for future projects. It's also supposedly fun, though anyone working on this sort of thing will tell you that it's more like walking into the room of infinite monkeys and infinite typewriters of one's mind armed with correction fluid, bananas laced with PCP and a menacing, monomaniacal bellow that sounds more like the coxswain's urging to STROKE, BITCHES more than anything else. I'll be posting excerpts here, and full entries over at A Nightmare of Chickens and the Civil War. And I'd like to apologize in advance for the absolute crap you're about to endure.

CHEKIT: Virtual "L" Navigator

If you know what you're doing, you can pretty much get anywhere you want in Chicago via public transportation. The buses and trains may not always be the most luxurious vehicles in the world, but they are cheap and clean enough ("eco-friendly" and "pro-sustainability," according to L-o'-lantern carver thirdrail). Problem is (and I use the word "problem" in the same way that someone giving you a million dollars in quarters is a "problem") there are so many cool neighborhoods in this city with so many cool places to check out, it's hard to decide where to go, and how to get there.

Enter centerstage.net, and their incredibly handy and intuitive Virtual "L" Navigator. Find a stop on any CTA transit line, and the Navigator will provide a list of bars, restaurants, stores, parks - pretty much anyplace worth checking out - within walking distance. You can also work it the other way, and click on a neighborhood, find a place you wanna be, and the Navigator will tell you which line to take, and where to get off. In a town full of incredibly useful city guides, this is one to bookmark and keep handy.

MUZIK:The PosTunes Project

Okay. Think about this, Dispatches readers:

Hypothetically, let's say you and a bunch of your friends read a blog called, oh, I dunno - Mismatches. And let's say that the guy writing this blog (who is also your friend) made you guys a proposition: each of you would send him a burnt CD (or the downloadable archived equivalent) of some choice music (whether it be an album or a mix of your own) and in return (once he gets, oh, say, 20 responses) he mails back, to everyone involved, a double-data-disc set of all the music he received, along with all the marvelous, nerdy liner notes his marvelous, nerdy friends woulda sent in. Yes, it would take some time, and yes, he'd be out the cash for the postage. But he (and all of the blog's readers) would get to experience all the wonderful, disparate selections sent in. It would be time well spent.

Would that be something you'd be interested in? Hmmm?

POLITIK: 15+ Dem majority in the House? ONLY IF YOU GET OFF YOUR ASSES, BLUE BLAZERS IN RED STATES!

Eyes on the prize, bitches.



No, you're not hallucinating - that map is a lot bluer than it used to be. And according to RT Strategies and Constituent Dynamics (the two firms that make up Majority Watch - ohhhh, polling data HURTS, don't it, red-staters? It BURNS, don't it?) it only looks like it's getting worse for the GOP.



But motherfuckers - and by that, I mean my Blue Blazers, my blue brothers and sistahs - that don't mean SHIT.

Listen up, dammit. I'm talkin' to you, Mr. I Need To Get An Oil Change. I'm poking you in the chest, Mr. I've Got A Regular Basketball Game. I don't care if the incumbent in your district is gonna win by 28 points - and I definitely don't care if all you've heard is how the Democrats are gonna make the Republicans their butt boys this fall.

VOTE, MOTHERFUCKER!
PLAN TO GET YOURSELF TO YOUR POLLING PLACE ON ELECTION DAY AND DO IT TO IT, OR I WILL CRAM A DIEBOLD MACHINE SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU'RE GONNA BE SPITTING PAPER RECEIPTS.

Do you UNDERSTAND how crazy those right-wing get-out-the-vote organizers are? I'm talking about thousands of mysterious black vans patrolling GOP strongholds across the country, pumping out radio signals that control tiny neural microchips implanted in conservative base member's brain stems - and suddenly, millions of disaffected (but registered) Republicans who were planning to sit this one out are stomping, zombie-like, into their local precincts. Don't tell me I'm crazy. DON'T TELL ME CRAZY SHIT LIKE THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE IN AMERICA. A steroid-injecting, womanizing, Austrian who used to get paid for wearing a furry codpiece is the Govenor of California. The second-most powerful man in the country has the nickname "Turd Blossom," bestowed upon him by THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

Go to Jiffy Lube TOMORROW. Your regular game - schedule it for that Wednesday. Get your hair cut later. Wake up early the day of. Treat yourself to a doughnut. AND PUNCH THOSE HOLES - TOGGLE THEM LEVERS - PRESS THOSE TOUCH SCREENS. Because, goddamnit, if we fuck up this momentum, if we manage to squander the biggest blue push since the New Deal, I will personally find every single one of you lazy motherfuckers that "forgot" or "didn't have time" to vote and beat you with a desk calendar to within an inch of your life. And then I will go to my Republican neighbor's house, grab her 10-year-old-son's shotgun, and shoot you dead.

See you at the polls, bitches. GO BLUE!

TV: Avatar: The Last Airbender

I've got a thing for children's TV. Teen Titans, Fairly OddParents, Kim Possible, Arthur, Blue's Clues - along with all the supposedly more sophisticated fare on the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim. I don't know if my tastes are getting broader, or more shallow, or if the quality of the writing on these shows is increasing, or what - but I do enjoy them. For the most part, they're the programming equivalent of a Wendy's Frosty - not something you'd make plans or go out of your way to consume, but if you're passing by, you might take in a little and enjoy with no significant investment of time or energy.

For the most part.

Except for one.

I don't know how to describe Avatar: The Last Airbender to you in a way that doesn't sound completely insane or silly. But if you like martial arts films in the mold of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Hero, have some familiarity with feudal Japan and the conventions of modern anime, enjoy season-long arcs of character development and the upper-octave-piano-keyed delight of awkward, adolescent longing, then this may be a half-hour worth watching. Set your TiVos and VCRs. And be surprised by what Nickelodeon is passing for kids' fare these days - you may find a slightly less racy, but no less satisfying analog to Buffy the Vampire Slayer following a helium-addled sponge.

MUZIK: I'd give it a month, actually.

WARNING: The following post about Justin Timberlake was written in earnest.

It's true. The new Justin Timberlake album has at least one song that, thanks to the evil machinations of beat-pimp Timbaland, will bore a hole clean into your brain through the thought centers responsible for self-consciousness and hipsterism, and drive a rhythm right across your synapses. We're talking pop music that infiltrates the nervous system at a cellular level, people.

I know. It's crazy talk. But you CAN'T FIGHT IT. I've given up the fight myself. Besides - the lady at the beginning of this video makes me feel kinda funny. Cellular level, indeed. Mmmmmm Hmmmmmmm.

HOUSEKEEPING: Dispatches Returns October 16th

Dispatches and Lava Lamps & Cheap Beer returns to keep you toasty warm through the long cold winter. It's like a pair of knit wool socks for your heart and your brain. If your heart and brain had feet.

We're back on October 16th. See you soon.

LL&CB: I, we, will.

In an alternate universe, she’s living a hand-to-mouth, video-store clerk existence as the fiddler and backup singer in The Most and The Least, an alt.country band pounding out rockabilly, bluegrass and western swing retreads of ABBA and Barry Manilow songs. In that universe, after missing weekend gig after weekend gig at Monsieur Cracklins, the rundown neighborhood honky tonk, her neighbor Todd Newison finally makes it one Saturday night, and calls his friends who show up and sing along during the loud numbers and sway during the ballads.

MUZIK: Taylor's the short money. And the safe bet.

I'm not an American Idol fan. The few tastes I deigned to consume during the first few seasons were reminiscent of Mariah Carey's ass-funk, which is why I've stayed away from it. But, according to Jody Rosen over at Slate, there are more than a few reasons to tune in to the Fox juggernaut nowadays - and the music of past Idol winners and also-rans ain't so terrible, either:

Consider the track record. Carrie Underwood (the 2005 idol), Fantasia Barrino (2004), and Kelly Clarkson (2002) have all recorded solid-to-excellent albums, none of which sound remotely amateurish or karaokelike. (Only Studdard, the 2003 champ, released a dud.) More surprising are the toughness and eccentricity of those records. Underwood's chart-topping country single "Jesus, Take the Wheel" is a ballad about a young mother's spiritual crisis and near-fatal car accident, and Fantasia's hit "Baby Mama," is an even grittier depiction of single motherhood. Clarkson won Idol on the strength of her feathery Mariah Carey-style melisma, but she has since moved out of what Abdul would call her "comfort zone." Her 2005 smash, "Since U Been Gone," which placed third in last year's Village Voice's Pop & Jazz's critic's poll, was an angsty breakup ballad with an irresistible hook and a galloping hard-rock chorus. All the qualities supposedly drowned in the ooze of Idol's "aesthetic of kitsch optimism"—regional peculiarity, lyrical realism, the jolt of a well-struck power chord—are present in these singers' big hits. Fantasia's Free Yourself even includes three collaborations with Missy Elliott, arguably the current pop star most committed to enlivening hit radio with sonic surprise and general freakishness. Idol has not only produced successful recording artists, it's produced interesting ones.

And for those of you interested purely for sporting reasons - Bodog.com has Katharine McPhee running as an 8/5 underdog in tomorrow's final; even the internet bookies are putting their money behind Crazy Legs Hicks.

CHEKIT: Lordy, lordy, Lordi loo.

An email, from friend and frustrated Dispatches reader Jenny R:

Ok, so it's summer and I work in academia and that means I'm bored. So I check your blog. And I check your blog. And then I check your blog. What the f? Update your blog!

That is all.

I'm sorry I've been so busy, Jenny, but hopefully this will make up for it:

Believe it or not, Europe voted for its favorite song of the year - and these guys won. And while I know they look like Gwar with better production values, trust me - they RAWK (though this interview indicates that their front man is nothing but well-mannered and polite.)

By the way, WTMX asked me back to this show tonight. I'm flattered and depressed about it. Tune in at 8 CST if you want a good laugh.

CHOW: Hungry Mag

A few months ago, I was thinking - Why not put together a team-managed blog encompassing restaurant reviews as well as product profiles and short essays about interesting food experiences for the hardcore chowhound, all of it wittily and snarkily written?

Apparently, I wasn't the only one.

They've got that shit DOWN, yo. Check the noise from their introduction -

We are an online magazine covering all things tasty. We are not foodies. At least not in the elitist sense. We know the house salad at Olive Garden is just prepackaged circles of red onion, bits of frozen iceberg lettuce spit out from a commercial food shredder, tasteless black olives from a petri dish that have never even seen an olive branch, big fat garlicky salty croutons from the box, pepperoncinis cross bred to remove any sense of real spiciness so as not to offend “families”, all tossed with a sweet italian vinaigrette, and if you are lucky, the hapless waiter or waitress will offer a fresh crack of pepper from the spicemill.

That being said, here is our dirty secret: We love the house salad at Olive Garden!

Something about throwing all these commercialized and overfarmed ingredients together yields something tasty, something we think about occasionally when we haven’t been near an Olive Garden in years.

On the other hand, we do shop regularly at farmer's markets. We have spent hundreds of dollars on artisanal balsamic vinaigrette. We have been to the French Laundry, in fact, we once scheduled a whole vacation around reservations to the hallowed restaurant.

Yet, we know that people have guilty pleasures like the Olive Garden salad, or God forbid, the Big Mac. We do not hate those people, and in fact we are, at times, those people.

We don’t expect to have regular Coke tastings, or Olive Garden reviews, but there will be room for some fun. If it’s bad, it’s bad, and if someone genuinely likes it or thinks there may be merit, lets talk about it, not write it off due to snobbery and politics.

Above all though, we do intend to tell stories of the corner taquerias, rib shacks, and exceptional neighborhood joints. We will ignore celebrity for celebrity’s sake, dig deep into the history of food, look for artisanal, or frankly, folksy backwoods producers of the finest ingredients. We will look at all kinds of ethnic cuisine or even the best ways to prepare roadkill. We hope to do this with a smart, focused, and occasionally irreverent voice.

Much love to Secret Squirrel for the tip.

CHEKIT: Perplex City

From the BoingBoing post:

...the gist of Perplex City is that you buy packs of six cards for $5 a pack and enter a world of puzzle solving, interactive fiction, and real-world/fantasy crossover. (The makers of the game are happy to admit the inspiration came from Kit Williams' 1979 treasure hunt book, Masquerade, which provided clues to help readers locate a valuable "golden hare" hidden in the real world. The current edition of Masquerade includes the solution to the puzzle.)

Each Perplex City card has a puzzle on the front. Sometimes the puzzle will lead you to a faux corporate website or blog with additional hints. By entering your answer on the Perplexity website, you get points and can compare your ranking with other players.

Some of the cards have delightful gimmicks, like heat sensitive or ultraviolet inks that contain hidden clues. In addition to the obvious puzzle (I think there are 260 cards in the entire series, half of which have been released), each card contains elements of meta-puzzles of varying complexity.

Apparently, the makers of Perplex City have determined that I don’t NEED any spare time in my life. So if you see me, say, sometime in November, bleary-eyed, mumbling something about $200k and a cube that needs finding, you know why.

CHOW: I LOVE cilantro. Lots of other folks don't.

Cilantro is my second-favorite herb, after basil. I’d use it in everything if it was appropriate and if most of my friends didn’t hate it so much - it's a hatred so deep, they've refused to eat food cooked near anything that has cilantro in it. I thought they were just being jerks, but apparently they’re not alone.

CHEKIT: The Google Maps Guide to Ghostbusters

The flowers are still standing!

If you’re a fan of ectoplasm, total protonic reversals, 600-pound Twinkies and real smoked salmon from Nova Scotia, Canada, then this Google Maps mash-up is for you. (Much love to Scavedot - VEGAS, BABY!)

MUZIK: Tax Day Playlist

If you're still feeling the sting from getting a smaller-than-expected refund, or if (horror) you had to actually pony up some cash, check out CMJ's Tax Day playlist, which, I expect, could also be titled "CMJ's I Wanna Kick Something" playlist, or "CMJ's Get The Fuck Outta My Way" playlist. I mean, songs from Black Flag and Minor Threat, along with Circle Jerks' "World Up My Ass" aren't exactly bunny-and-ducky fare. Enjoy.

MUZIK: Spring Mix 2006

So...I know I said this would be ready in March, but...you guys don't mind waiting, right?

I'm just about done. The following is a nearly-complete list of artists featured.

SPRING MIX 2006
featuring:

Alison Krauss via Dolly Parton
Appleseed Cast
Belle and Sebastian
Ben Folds
Bettye Swann
Billy Bragg & Wilco
Blossom Dearie
Blue States
Brendan Benson
Bright Eyes
Byron Lee and the Dragonnaires
Camera Obscura
Cat Power
CCC
Charles Wright & The 103rd St. Watts Rhythm Band
Crosstide
David Holmes
The Detroit Cobras
Devics
Dick Brave & The Backbeats via Run DMC
dj BC and The Beastles
DJ Dangermouse & Zero 7 Featuring Doom
Dokaka
The Dresden Dolls
Eef Barzelay
Elvis Costello & The Metropole Orkest
Elvis Presley
Esthero
The Faces
Feist
George Jones
Gnarls Barkley
Hall & Oates
Inara George
Inger Marie Gunderson via Everly Brothers
The Jackson Five
Jamie Lidell
Jay Dee aka J Dilla
Jean Grae
Johnny Cash
Jose Gonzales
Kings Of Leon
The Knife
Laura Veirs
LCD Soundsystem
Linda Lyndell
Lisa Loeb
The Long Winters
Louis Jordan & His Tympany Five
Lynden David Hall via The Beatles
Lyrics Born
Mia Doi Todd
Michael Penn
Midlake
Minus Five
Mos Def
Nina Simone via The Beatles
Over The Rhine
P.O.S.
Paul McCartney/Michael Jackson
Peggy Lee
Phil
Princess Superstar
The Raconteurs
Regina Spektor
Rogue Wave
The Rosebuds
Sam Roberts
Shelby Lynne
Shelley Short
Shuggie Otis
Sing-Sing
Stars via Smiths
Suzanne Vega
Swollen Members
Tapes 'n Tapes
Tears for Fears
They Might Be Giants
Thievery Corporation (feat. Gigi Rezende)
Thompson Twins
Torero
Wolfmother
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Yes
The Zombies

Much love to Sara Z (Brooklyn, bitches) and Jenny R and all the MP3 blogs that made this possible.

If you want some of this goodness, well - you know how to get a hold of me.

MUZIK: Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Blogging about the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at this point is, I realize, a little like writing a cooking column about SPAM in the 1940s. "I've discovered this tasty new spiced ham product that would delight you and your family in casseroles or as a main dish!" the column would say. "Dinner won't ever be the same after you've tried SPAM!" Meanwhile, every pantry in America is already stocked with cans of the stuff, ready to be served to kids already so sick of salty, gelatinous potted meat that they're eating their victory garden carrots first and hiding their meat-pucks in the dog's food bowl.

Actually - the metaphor doesn't hold - Not NEARLY enough Americans are digging the lunatic stylings of Karen O and the boys. And with oufits like these, I don't think YYY retreads are going to be making it to the muzak playlists of your local megachurch's foyer. Regardless - check out the new album. And in this Pitchfork interview, learn that it takes influences like Michael Jackson AND Sam Cooke AND Freddie Mercury to make one of the most interesting lead singers in rock today.

MUZIK: Gnarls Barkley

The upcoming Gnarls Barkley album, like everything else hyped to within an inch of its life, probably won't be as good as everyone says it will be. But you wouldn't know it listening to some of the tracks already making their way about the web, including "Crazy," which went #1 on the UK charts based on download sales alone. Every other music blog I hit seems to mention them at least once a week - and with good reason - web-released tracks "Just a Thought" and "Crazy" will ride a Tilt-A-Whirl inside your head until you manage to slip your synaptic carnies some malt liquor. Fans of DJ Dangermouse (of various collaborations, and, most famously, The Grey Album) and Cee-Lo (of Goodie Mob fame) should just about crap their pants if the album is half as good as the early singles. And if the quality of the first video from a new group correlates to the level of fame and awesomeness to follow, well - it's gonna get a little ridiculous real fast.

MUZIK: Cinnamon Girl

Today's post begins an all-MUZIK week here at Dispatches. Headphones and head-nods and surreptitious lip-syncing on the bus not included.

Enjoy.

Scott over at the 'Gum has 11 (ELEVEN) covers of Neil Young's "Cinnamon Girl," from Radiohead, Matthew Sweet and Hole, among others - which is, by my lights. six more than absolutely necessary. But you can decide for yourself.

CHOW [and BOOZE]: The Bourbon Sidecar.

Sorry I've been away. It's been a crazy couple of weeks.

To make up for it - here's a cow in a racing helmet in on a motorcycle.

From Eric Asimov's new blog in the NYT:

I hate to pigeonhole myself, but when it comes to cocktails I love the classics. I want a martini made with gin, not vodka. The same goes for a gimlet. In fact, I don’t really care for vodka at all, unless it’s straight, iced down and served with caviar, or Peking duck. (That’s flexibility, no?)

I prefer a Manhattan made with rye rather than bourbon, just as the original recipe calls for rye. Rye has a racy, dancing quality in the mouth, like Sichuan peppercorns, while I find that Bourbon tends to be a little sweet and flat, and mixes best with ice cubes.

I’m not doctrinaire or snobbish about these things. Years of experimentation simply confirm the wisdom of the originals, despite the well-intentioned creativity that leads to the lesser variations. And I’m not the contrary sort either, although certain members of my family might disagree with that assertion.

And here’s proof: the bourbon sidecar.

Being a cognac/Cointreau/lemon juice man myself, I've never used bourbon in a sidecar, much as I've never used the word doctrinaire in a sentence until just now - neither would have occured to me. But it's looks like it's something worth trying.

CHEKIT: LEGO Worldbuilder 2

Last week I was at work late because we were on deadline. This week I was at work late because I want to trap and kill some lions with my Freezebot. Trust me - you'll understand.

CHEKIT: Jenny makes the case for Bloomington, Indiana.

This is called nature and most New Yorkers only see it if they schlep up to Central Park [or Prospect Park, which we all know is the better of the two].

Jenny (in addition to being cool and cute and (sigh) married) can smack verbs and nouns around sumthin' fierce. Check out her newest published stylings here - though I will say I doubt there's a decent bagel to be found in the whole of the state of Indiana.

POLITIK: The Hammer resigns

From the NYT:

In an interview Monday night, Richard Cullen, Mr. DeLay's principal criminal defense lawyer, said that his client had been pondering a withdrawal from the race for some time and that "it had nothing to do with any criminal investigation."

"The decision had absolutely nothing to do with the investigation," Mr. Cullen said. "It was a very personal decision and a political one."

Yes. Very personal. In the way rinsing half-eaten mashed potatoes off a food tray in a federal prison cafeteria kitchen feels very personal.

CHEKIT: Bow before George Saunders. Kneel before George Saunders.

From The New Yorker:

...I used to love music, back when it had melody and chords and lyrics. But now it has no melody and no chords, just thwack-thwacking, and they even seem to be cutting back on the thwack-thwacking, so now it’s sometimes just thwa, and, as far as lyrics, do you consider these lyrics?

Hump my hump,
My stumpy lumpy hump!
Hump my dump, you lumpy slumpy dump!
I’ll dump your hump,
and then just hump your dump,
You lumpy frumply clump.

I’m sorry. To me? Those are not lyrics. In my day, lyrics were used to express real emotion, like the emotion of being totally stoned and trying to talk this totally stoned chick into sleeping with you in the name of love, which lasted forever, if only you held on to your dreams.

George Saunders isn't just a pimp. He is a platform-shoed, befeathered-hat-wearing hermit living atop a mountain that pimps climb and ask of him how they, too, can achieve perfect pimpitude.

He's got a new book coming out. And in case you haven't already, read this one and this one, too.

CHEKIT: Iraq War Coalition Fatalities

Press the button.

I'd go on and on and on as to how cool this is, BoingBoing, if it wasn't so sad and moving and disturbing.

HOUSEKEEPING: Apologies and peppercorns

I promise - more posts after the weekend. Until then:

Get yourself some Spice House action. The UPS guy just delivered some rib rubs, jerk seasonings, barbecue sauce makings and TELLICHERRY PEPPERCORNS, yo. I'm a happy man.

CHEKIT: Conan O'Brien is coming to Chicago

Please, please, PLEASE let Triumph come along. PLEASE, GOD.

CHEKIT: Happy St. Patrick's Day, ya poser.

Anyone can turn the lights down, install a lot of dark wood booths and benches and brass accents in a room and call themselves an Irish pub, but it takes the efforts of the Irish Pub Company to turn the art of faux O'Boozery into an profitable, worldwide enterprise:

In the last 15 years, Dublin-based IPCo and its competitors have fabricated and installed more than 1,800 watering holes in more than 50 countries. Guinness threw its weight (and that of its global parent Diageo) behind the movement, and an industry was built around the reproduction of "Irishness" on every continent—and even in Ireland itself. IPCo has built 40 ersatz pubs on the Emerald Isle, opening them beside the long-standing establishments on which they were based.

IPCo's designers claim to have "developed ways of re-creating Irish pubs which would be successful, culturally and commercially, anywhere in the world." To wit, they offer five basic styles: The "Country Cottage," with its timber beams and stone floors, is supposed to resemble a rural house that gradually became a commercial establishment. The "Gaelic" design features rough-hewn doors and murals based on Irish folklore. You might, instead, choose the "Traditional Pub Shop," which includes a fake store (like an apothecary), or the "Brewery" style, which includes empty casks and other brewery detritus, or "Victorian Dublin," an upscale stained-glass joint. IPCo will assemble your chosen pub in Ireland. Then they'll bring the whole thing to your space and set it up. All you have to do is some basic prep, and voilà! Ireland arrives in Dubai. (IPCo has built several pubs and a mock village there.)

Erin go Bragh! (which is Gaelic for "gratuity included.")