This all came to light back in 2003 when Bono exclaimed during a live awards show that U2 winning a Golden Globe was “really f-ing brilliant.”

Of course, Janet Jackson’s exposed breast during the Super Bowl halftime show in 2006 didn’t help matters. Following that incident, Congress voted to increase the maximum fine for each violation to $325,000.

Today’s ruling will help prevent crippling fines for slips that censors aren’t quick enough to catch, and provide a little breathing room for…em…wardrobe malfunctions.

This is a post from the @U2 blog.

Appeals Court Ruling is *&%#%^ Brilliant!

He cites “new information” as his catalyst for writing the post, and refuses to share his resources, but calls the possibility “reasonably solid.”

To read the full post, click here.

Thanks to @U2 reader Andrew A. for sending us the tip. We’ll be staying tuned for further updates.

This is a post from the @U2 blog.

Rumor: Bono to write for Pixar?

By Daniel Kreps, Rollingstone

In his latest New York Times op-ed piece, Bono relives his own experiences of "Bloody Sunday," one of the deadliest days of "The Troubles" conflict between Northern Ireland and England, and celebrates the new British Prime Minister's decision to take blame for the massacre. "Bloody Sunday," the tragic event that inspired U2's hit "Sunday Bloody Sunday," took place January 30th, 1972, when members of the British Army opened fire on a group of unarmed civil rights protesters in the Northern Irish town of Derry, killing 14, including seven teenagers.

"It was a day that caused the conflict between the two communities in Northern Ireland -- Catholic nationalist and Protestant unionist -- to spiral into another dimension: every Irish person conscious on that day has a mental picture of Edward Daly, later the bishop of Derry, holding a blood-stained handkerchief aloft as he valiantly tended to the wounded and the dying," Bono writes.

Last week, new British Prime Minister David Cameron admitted that the British Army acted unlawfully on that day 38 years ago, opening the door for possible criminal charges. Bono called Cameron's revelation "a bright day on our small rock in the North Atlantic." "Clouds that had hung overhead for 38 years were oddly missing ... the sharp daylight of justice seemed to chase away the shadows and the stereotypes of the past. No one behaved as expected. The world broke rhyme," Bono writes. "A brand-new British prime minister, still in his wrapping paper, said things no one had imagined he would ... could ... utter ....'On behalf of our country, I am deeply sorry.' "

Bono writes that Cameron's apology has instantly helped heal wounds that have been open for 38 years, and that his honesty should reverberate throughout other turbulent areas of the globe. "In fact, it can be that quick everywhere. If there are any lessons for the world from this piece of Irish history ... for Baghdad ... for Kandahar ... it's this: things are quick to change for the worse and slow to change for the better, but they can. They really can," Bono writes. "It takes years of false starts, heartbreaks and backslides and, most tragically, more killings. But visionaries and risk-takers and, let's just say it, heroes on all sides can bring us back to the point where change becomes not only possible again, but inevitable."

In a light-hearted postscript to his op-ed piece, Bono reminisces about working on U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" in the studio and how "the song will be sung wherever there are rock fans with mullets and rage, from Sarajevo to Tehran." While "Sunday Bloody Sunday" seemed like a hit -- even though "it's a small song that tries but fails to contrast big ideas," claims Bono -- a record company boss overseeing the recording sessions implored the band, "Drop the 'bloody.' 'Bloody' won't bloody work on the radio." As history shows, U2 turned down that recommendation.

Copyright 2010 Rolling Stone

Dublin

ONE of the most extraordinary days in the mottled history of the island of Ireland was witnessed on both sides of the border last Tuesday.

The much-anticipated and costly Saville report ... the 12-years-in-the-making inquiry into "Bloody Sunday," a day never to be forgotten in Irish politics ... was finally published.

On that day, Jan. 30, 1972, British soldiers fired on a civil rights march in the majority Catholic area of the Bogside in Derry, killing 14 protesters.

It was a day that caused the conflict between the two communities in Northern Ireland -- Catholic nationalist and Protestant unionist -- to spiral into another dimension: every Irish person conscious on that day has a mental picture of Edward Daly, later the bishop of Derry, holding a blood-stained handkerchief aloft as he valiantly tended to the wounded and the dying.

It was a day when paramilitaries on both sides became the loudest voices in the conflict, a day that saw people queuing to give up on peace ... mostly young men but also women who had had enough of empire and would now consider every means necessary -- however violent or ugly -- to drive it from their corner.

It was a day when my father stopped taking our family across the border to Ulster because, as he said, the "Nordies have lost their marbles." And we were a Catholic-Protestant household.

Contrast all this with last Tuesday ... a bright day on our small rock in the North Atlantic. Clouds that had hung overhead for 38 years were oddly missing ... the sharp daylight of justice seemed to chase away the shadows and the stereotypes of the past. No one behaved as expected. The world broke rhyme.

A brand-new British prime minister, still in his wrapping paper, said things no one had imagined he would ... could ... utter ....

"On behalf of our country, I am deeply sorry."

And there was more ....

"What happened should never ever have happened," said the new prime minister, David Cameron. "Some members of our armed forces acted wrongly. The government is ultimately responsible for the conduct of the armed forces. And for that, on behalf of the government, indeed on behalf of our country, I am deeply sorry."

It was inconceivable to many that a Tory prime minister could manage to get these words out of his mouth. It was also inconceivable -- before he uttered the carefully minted phrasing -- that he would be listened to by a hushed crowd gathered in Guildhall Square in Derry, a place not famous for its love of British leaders of any stripe, and that he would be cheered while speaking on specially erected screens that earlier had been used to relay images from the World Cup.

Thirty-eight years did not disappear in an 11-minute speech -- how could they, no matter how eloquent or heartfelt the words? But they changed and morphed, as did David Cameron, who suddenly looked like the leader he believed he would be. From prime minister to statesman.

Joy was the mood in the crowd. A group of women sang "We Shall Overcome." There was a surprising absence of spleen -- this was a community that had been through more than most anyone could understand, showing a restraint no one could imagine. This was a dignified joy, with some well-rehearsed theatrics to underscore the moment.

As well as punching the sky and tearing up the first "Bloody Sunday" inquiry -- a whitewash by a judge named Lord Widgery who said the British troops had been provoked -- these people were redrawing their own faces from the expected images: from stoic, tight-lipped and vengeful to broad, unpolished, unqualified smiles, unburdened by the bile the world often expects from this geography.

Derry is a community and these Derry people looked like guests at a wedding -- formal only for as long as they had to be, careful of their dead but not at all pious. Some began to speak of trials and prosecutions but most wanted to leave that talk for another day.

Figures I had learned to loathe as a self-righteous student of nonviolence in the '70s and '80s behaved with a grace that left me embarrassed over my vitriol. For a moment, the other life that Martin McGuinness could have had seemed to appear in his face: a commander of the Irish Republican Army that day in 1972, he looked last week like the fly fisherman he is, not the gunman he became ... a school teacher, not a terrorist ... a first-class deputy first minister.

Both Mr. McGuinness and Gerry Adams, the leader of Sinn Fein, seemed deliberately to avoid contentious language and to try to include the dead of other communities in the reverence of the occasion. Though a few on the unionist side complained that the $280 million spent on the inquiry, commissioned by Prime Minister Tony Blair in 1998 and led by Lord Saville, a top judge, could have been used to improve Northern Ireland's schools or investigate unionist losses, they mostly accepted the wording of the report that the deaths were "wrong" and "unjustified"; Protestant clergymen spoke of "healing" and held meetings with families of the victims.

Healing is kind of a corny word but it's peculiarly appropriate here; wounds don't easily heal if they are not out in the open. The Saville report brought openness -- clarity -- because at its core, it accorded all the people involved in the calamity their proper role.

The lost lives rose up from being statistics in documents in the Foreign Office to live once again. On the television news, we saw them ... the exact time, the place, the commonplace things they were doing ... William Nash, age 19, shot in the chest at close range, his father wounded trying to reach him ... William McKinney, age 26, shot in the back while tending the wounded ... Jim Wray, age 22, shot twice, the second round fired into his back while he was lying on the ground outside his grandparents' house. We saw their faces in old photographs, smiles from 38 years ago ... the ordinary details of their ordinary and, as Lord Saville repeatedly pointed out, entirely innocent lives.

It's not just the Devil who's in the details ... God, it turns out, is in there too. Daylight ...

Even the soldiers seemed to want the truth to be out. In the new report, some contradicted statements they had been ordered to make for the Widgery report.

It is easily forgotten that the British Army arrived in Northern Ireland ostensibly to protect the Catholic minority.

How quickly things can change.

In just a couple of years, the scenes of soldiers playing soccer with local youths or sharing ice creams and flirting with the colleens had been replaced by slammed doors on house-to-house raids ... the protectors had become the enemy ... it was that quick in Derry.

In fact, it can be that quick everywhere. If there are any lessons for the world from this piece of Irish history ... for Baghdad ... for Kandahar ... it's this: things are quick to change for the worse and slow to change for the better, but they can. They really can. It takes years of false starts, heartbreaks and backslides and, most tragically, more killings. But visionaries and risk-takers and, let's just say it, heroes on all sides can bring us back to the point where change becomes not only possible again, but inevitable.

•

A footnote (some light relief), November 1983:

U2 is in a studio in Dublin, playing its new song, "Sunday Bloody Sunday," to the record company. The melody is a good one but the lyric is, in hindsight, an inarticulate speech of the heart. It's a small song that tries but fails to contrast big ideas ... atonement with forgiveness ... "Bloody Sunday" with Easter Sunday. The song will be sung wherever there are rock fans with mullets and rage, from Sarajevo to Tehran. Over time, the lyric will change and grow. But here, with the Cockneyed record company boss at the song's birth, the maternity ward goes quiet when the man announces that the baby is "a hit"... with one caveat: "Drop the 'bloody.' 'Bloody' won't bloody work on the radio."

Bono, the lead singer of the band U2 and a co-founder of the advocacy group ONE and (Product)RED, is a contributing columnist for The Times.

Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company

It’s the first time I recall seeing him as a cover boy for this publication. I’m sure we can all rest assured knowing that their cracker-jack reporting got this story right.

This is a post from the @U2 blog.

Bono’s Outing

Bono and his wife Ali Hewson may be at risk of losing million as their ethical clothing change, Edun, continues to lose money.

At the end of last year Bono, and his wife of 28 years, Ali, moved their family from Dublin to New York to help launch the ethical clothing line based in Tribeca, Manhattan.

Ali has now revealed that the business has so far failed to make a profit.

"It hasn't made money -- it hasn't made a profit yet," said Ali. "But it's growing. It's growing.

"The first five years of the company is about putting money in and building the trade. So of course we had to support it. We're still here supporting it now, because we believe in it."

In fact the Hewson family believed so entirely in the project that they all moved to New York to be closer to the day to day running of the business.

"I've been seeing how the operation was being upgraded on a daily, weekly basis," she said.

"It's been amazing to see how far it has come in six months.

In 2005 Bono, Ali and fashion designer Rogan Gregory founded the fashion line. However, Ali says that the mission to increase employment in developing regions of Africa has overshadowed the company itself.

Over the years Bono has endured some criticism for his constant involvement in charity campaigns. His critics feel that his methods are a little preachy and that he's over exposed in the media. However Ali defends his ongoing charity activism.

"He's always known, if you want to get anything done you've got to stand in the firing line sometimes...He doesn't do it for the warm fuzzy feelings. He does it to actually bring some change about, and highlight issues that were being pushed under the carpet. And he does it very effectively.

"Bono will say to you, 'I'm sick of Bono, and I am Bono'."

Just three years ago Edun had $3.6 million in bank loans and owes it's three shareholders $7.9 million.

Ali feels that the situation for the company can only get better as the Hewson's partnered up with LVMH, who owns Givenchy, Moet & Chandon, Louis Vuitton, Fendi and Christian Dior.

Edun's plans to have a line of clothing ready for the soccer World Cup this summer designed but children in the slums in Nairobi.

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