War in commuterland and human privacy

The arrival of the Clongriffin Dart station has been a welcome and transformative experience for me, but the most interesting development has been the severe disdain we Clongriffinites receive from Malahide, Portmarnock and Drogheda commuters whose arduous journeys to the office now take approximately 120 more seconds and include about a dozen more people than usual. On a warm Friday morning (the very morning that I write this), I boarded the sparsely crowded 9:07 train to Dublin city centre. In every cube of four seats, two were free, and the two people occupying the others sat diagonally across from one…