RTE, as befits its Continuity Sticky status in the hundred year hiatus between National Nervous Breakdowns (19 to 19), went to ridiculously meticulous lengths to dicky up the participants in their recent Re-enactment of the Cead Dail (sic) at the Mansion House of the Lord (sic-er) Mayor of DUPlin, (sic-est). Even unto artfully picking up pernikety sartorial tips from Wikipedia itself about how the bogger Micks and their smarter Chicks of the time and Times togged out and tarted up.
No surprise therefore that the (gasp) Re-encactment turned out to be a (gulp) Mirror Image of the O’riginal.
Actually, the Daily Mirror Image. In point of fact-check, the Mirror Image of the Original was dissidently insisting on being Re-enacted on Raidió na Life (féach-check thíos/ look below) not very, erm, fada away.
Consider the following:
Contemporary Report (fact-checked), 1919:
I counted 27 different TDs who were marked ‘i láthair’ (‘present’). Notable names such as Éamon de Valera, Arthur Griffith, WT Cosgrave and Constance Markievicz were in prison and were marked as ‘fé ghlas ag Gallaibh’ (‘imprisoned by the foreign enemy’). Michael Collins was also absent, as he was in England working to organise de Valera’s escape, and was listed as ‘as láthair’ (‘absent’). So too were all the unionist MPs, such as Edward Carson.
This historic first meeting was short, beginning at 3.30pm and adjourning at 5.20pm. It was a multilingual meeting, with most of the proceedings in Irish, and some documents also read in French and then in English. With Cathal Brugha in the chair as ceann comhairle, the gathering approved Bunreacht Dála Éireann and then heard the reading of the declaration of independence setting out a vision of a free, independent republic. It was one which sought to “re-establish justice, to provide for future defence, to insure peace at home and goodwill with all nations and to constitute a national polity based upon the people’s will with equal right and equal opportunity for every citizen”. They are the same principles which guide us today.
Sinn Féin TD Piaras Béaslaí, a journalist by profession was mainly responsible for organising the session. Many years later he recalled: “I was determined to leave nothing to chance. I had a long experience of producing stage plays, and I felt we must approach this public session in the same spirit. Everything to be done and the order in which it was to done must be clearly laid down beforehand. Every speaker must know when he was to be called up and must be word perfect in his speech. This was particularly important when all the speeches were in Irish and some of our proposed speakers were not very much at ease in that language”.
Bean-counter Break: To quote from the pink financial supplement to the thinking reader’s Daily Mirror (assuming a Tabloid is not out of the question, not least a Tabloid which likes to keep Tabs on Flabby Gab-fests) noted that while (very roughly) 90 percent of the original assembly was conducted through the backstop of the Erse, this bum number was, erm, dumbed down to 10 percent in the re-enactment. A (gulp) revERSE which would surely have brought back a (gasp) mega-watt smile to the dial of Victor Mature:
-Shucks, this sure repree-sents a victory for maturity, po-litically speaking.
Pause now at Limerick Junction, not unadjacent to the disarmed farming region of Soloheadbeg, where The Ultima Thule (as lathair ) happened to find himself, purely by chance (!!!!), and so, had to give the big deal Centenary in the Mansion House a miss in deference to the hit:
Centenary of First, emr, Dail
How today’s T.D.s must have uneasily
Looked at the role of Piaras Béaslaí
Agam,b’gum, níl f-áil focal
Gaeilge me troos to buckle
The Erse trousered-coughed was measly.
Meanwhile, no more than a coiscéim choilligh / coiscéim chirce (cock step / hen step) away from the vanity Daily Mirror image the real Mirror image was to be viewed on sound on Raidió na Life.
Where Peadar Ó Caomhánaigh, craoltóir agus có-bhunaitheor an Pop-Up Gaeltacht / broadcaster and co-founder of the Pop-up Gaeltacht made a quantum leap of faith in the lapdogbarking dark of DUPlin by holding up his Leap Card in this non-leap year and unfolding it to the light touch of screw-you scrutiny.
A Leap Card is a convenient way to pay for public transport services in Dublin, Cork, Galway, Limerick, Waterford and Wexford. It saves you carrying change and Leap Card fares are up to 31% cheaper than cash single fares!
It is authorised for the autobahns of the, erm, Nation by the National Transport Authority / Udaras Naisiusta Iompair whose HQ are located at (gulp), Dun Sceine in DUPlin’s fare city where the traffic snarl-ups are not so pretty, as the guttural Arlo might urban folk-sing.
Oh, and as Peadar Ó Caomhánaigh has placed the accent upon said NTA/UNI, it is only meat and veg not to mention meet and just to regretfully state. What? That this Free Southern Stateen Body B-tiful is unable to print, in this, The Year of Our Lords and Masters, a fada in the bearer’s name, should one infamously insist on using the, erm, Leaprehaun (versh) of his or her name.
Cue: Miss Fotus regrets.
As The Ultima Thule, fuel-proof expert on inter-gall-actic transport, thoughtfully put it, nto:
–One small step for a man, one giant, erm, Leap for the NTA-kind.
The double-declutch excuse given by the out of touch Ten Lords a Leaping on the Board of the ‘National’ Transport Authority was on account of ‘ripe interpersonal computer-wiped commuter-type problems’. (Translation smells of : Anglo Algae-rhythms, that sorta seaweedy thingy).
The same (yawn) bored membership for whom the Leaprechaun is D-Dutch, and all of whom are known to commute to an from d’Office in (jeepers creepers !) designer jeeps (arm stretch) – to each his own SUV designed to circumvent traffic ‘subh’ – added the following by putting the (trouser cough) cod into codicil:
-A phased-in ‘fada’ in inverted commas is undergoing a feasibility study.
All of which is begining to sound like a (gasp) Léim excuse. for the latest disorganised and jowly Free Southern Stateen organisaton to throw in the towel. And join the (gulp) Intifada against the Fada. All done, ní gá a rá, on the premises and the premise alike that the exclusivist Leaprechaun-speaking omadawns just don’t have a clue about the ins and King’s Inns of inCLUEsivity.
Cork, boy, gets namechecked in the fiddle faddle of a fada-free provo-proof promo (see above). This is de Reb-el County, aka De Texas of Ireland, like, which contains a hamlet ( spoiler alert, Doyler: quote on the way, quote on the way ) called, like:
-Leap. (pronounced, yep, Lep).
This is, ar ndoigh, the mangled Angloed versh of ‘Léim Uí Dhonabháin’, a hamlet famous for rows among rowers and deep within the heart of (gulp) ambush territory / bandit country.
– “Alas, poor Corick!
Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite fada-fallen?”
And drew this deadheadline from the Daily Mirror (see above).
–Belted Buickleppers tell the Lingo Lepers to belt up , by jingo !
Which, by a curious vicus of recirculation brings us back to the pre-First Dail days when that B-all and Enda-all of Occidental England’s ass-kicking linguistic morass, one P. Pearse first arose from the obscurity in which he ought always have remained stuck, for fuckáil focal’s sakes. This fan of the fáinne rather than the fawning who insisted on piercing our ears with his pointed ‘Pádraig Mac Piarais’.
Wha’? A name which became a national anathema to the low IQs in the HQ of UNI, from whose roof the flags of all the nations fly, bar one, gan dabht. This HQ is on Harcourt St, btw, which sees itself as a (erm) Hard Border between saintly towel-headed sanity (see Intifada above) and the fanaticism of the fada.
Oddly enough, it was a brouhaha to do with transport which first propelled a bewigged P.P. to pprominence in the f. art and craft of Wigs on the Green Steet Courthouse. When he defended the right (alleged) of a donkey-jacket (pronounced dunkey) from Dún na nGall (pronounced Donegal) to use the Erse on his ass-and-cart.
We are Udaras Naisiunta Iompair
Known by all as Oompa Loompa
It’s just a lodda
Odd bods a fada
Want: go stick it up your jumpa !
An Irish name minus its fada, if it has one, is akin to Laurel minus Hardy or indeed Holmes without Watson. Coincidentally on purpose, the celebrated cinéaste P. Warbeck of late viewed the current movies which deal with this contrasting pair of duos, in his local motion-picture emporium, The Empire. Duly equipped on each occasion with a tub of popcorn only slightly bigger than the Round Room in the Mansion House itself. (see above/ féach suas).
There could hardly be a greater contrast (apart from the Tale of 2 Dails) between the two fillums, both of which featured an Intermission. Presumably, to enable the discerning fillum buff a chance to have second thoughts if tis ráiméis / guff he’s presented with.
Whereas The Perkin cut loose and vamoosed from the truly vile ‘Holmes and Watson’ (misdirected by Etan Cohen to be confused with Ethan Cohen, not -see below) in which this defective travesty of the uber-effective detective gets to wear an imaginary version of a Zimbabwean scarf. The sort so fascistically fashionable in the Rainbow Stateen, from Clontarf to Ballybarf. In the case of ‘Stan and Ollie’ it was a case of, erm, Intermission Impossible.
The contrast is most keenly seen in the performance of the one actor who appears in both: John C. Reilly. Wojus as Watson – he had no choice with the anti-glic gick script he was handed – but Outrageously Oscar-deserving as Ollie.
Cue: It ain’t you, babe, as Watson.
Indeed, ‘Stan and Ollie’ is not at all unrelated to the topic in question. Even if it is Kingstown which gets to play the role of Queenstown as their boat sails into Occidental England. Thereby foregoing the huge green opportunity of recreating the amazing occasion when the carillionist of St. Colman’s Cathedral famously chimed out ‘Dance of the Cuckoos’ as the boat of both entered the Cobh of Cork in 1953.
Cue: dum, de dum, de dum de diddely dum, accompanied by a head scratch of the one and a tie-roll by the other.
Léim bheag an bhradáin amháin a bhí i gceist / One small leap of the imaginaiton was all it required.
Not only confined to the English-speaking world, Stan and Ollie’s popularity orbit was truly global — known in Germany as ‘Dick und Doof’, in Poland as ‘Flip I Flap’ and in Brazil as ‘O Gordo e O Magro’.
Actually, S agus O are indeed recognised in the forked-focal tongue of the Leaprechaun: check out ‘Caol le Caol/ Leathan le Leathan’.
Needless to say, not a mouse among the in-house movie critters of the herd-mentality media in DUPlin let out a squeak that could he heard about the above unmenchionable: but then to state that the Roman Cats or the Leaprechauns harbour an achmhainn ghrinn / a sense of humour does not quite tally. With? With the souper stars of the fashionable Nuremberg Rally Knorritve in the FSS. Léim ró-fhada/ A Leap too far / Ein Sprung zu weit.
In ‘Stan and Ollie’ one Norman Wisdom (late of this garish parish) gets namechecked on numerous occasons as does the producer Hal Roache who is – write it down, it’s a good one – under no circumstances a relation of the Arthur Askey-look alike/ comedian, Hal Roche.
Oh, and as the credits of this superb fillum rolle , one of the two editors, one Úna O Donghaíle has both her fadas included.
(Notice to FOTUS: that’s pronounced Oona Nee Gon-eela-a).
To conclude: by a second vicus of recirculation one finds oneself back in the Round Room of the Mansion House to another fine Mess of Pottage which the cool cottage industry of Cúl-le-©ine in RTE got us into.
There, where Leo the T-Shirteenth orated with his usual orotundity while bringing a singular multilingualism to the (gulp) Occidental English-Asian occasion. Nonetheless no high-pitched high-stepping squeaker was more roundly applauded or (gasp) looked up to with more admiration than M. Luch himself:
-The Uachtar Reoite-licking Uachtarán.
(Ice cream Coens, see above, kindly donated by H.B. H.B. Dairies – Hughes Brothers Hard Border Dairies)
Fada of the ‘Nation’
Truly is he the F.S.S.’s Arthur Askey
Up for each an’ every single taskey
‘Hello playmates !
1Ireland, 2 states’
In the limelight he loves to baskey.
TUILLEADH LE TEACHT: TO BE CONTINUED