Help us !!
I’m having my first cup of Punjana and Ian Paisley Junior {Is he still junior?} is on the “Nolan” radio show blaming Martina Anderson of Sinn Fein for the impending closure of the Gallaher factory in Ballymena. He ‘s basically thrashing about looking for a scapegoat I suppose .He wants someone to blame because he doesn’t fancy carrying this stinking bucket that has landed on his patch.He’s obviously taking the news as a personal affront and when that happens with Mr. Paisley , rationality flies out the door on golden wings. .I thought it was a cheap and unthought- out shot though. It’s blame somebody time again, anyway and when it comes to women , Ian likes to try and put these lesser beings in their rightful place . That would be about five paces behind and to the right. It appears to be one of his less agreeable tics. This closure, of course, for all the rattling, raving and ranting, is about nothing but filthy lucre and it is something that is happening throughout the world. It’s the same thing that has occurred with the clothing industry . For those with long enough memories, our once unassailable, linen industry, went too.If the clothes can be made in sweatshops in China or India by poorly -paid children cheaper than here , that’s where they’ll be made. Until a stink is kicked up and the company moves on to a lesser -human rights friendly corner , where people can be abused a little more easily. This has nothing to do with the jiggery- pokery of packaging or advertising a product that can kill you. It’s an opportune moment to simply upsticks.
Mr Paisley has obviously inherited some of his father’s belligerence because he lost his temper when it was reasonably pointed out that he needed to get up to speed on how globalisation actually works . He was already crying down doom and gloom on Northern Ireland and prophesying that the loss of Gallahers would bring down a crime wave on all our heads .Idle hands and all that.Already being used to having inherited some modicum of power from his father, in a very small pond ,he couldn’t simply accept his powerlessness in face of outside, uncontrollable forces, but he had no problem blaming Martina Anderson of Sinn Fein for everything that was falling on his head.Unfortunately no one could offer him succour..
There is no doubt that the tobacco industry has been caught between a rock and a hard place for years now .The product was once socially acceptable, glamourous even, but is no pushed to the margins of society. Government has stopped short of total prohibition in face of the known illness and Health Service facilities that tobacco use inspires. Mr Paisley had obviously and transparently been been waiting to pounce with his acrid vitriolic stream.It was the usual blitzkrieg of chaff and thunder …a smokescreen to mask his own fears .The immaturity of his attack , redolent of a schoolboy fighting over who got the bigger half of the penny chew. He simply couldn’t wait to insult rather than debate and in doing so exposed the paucity and shallowness of his political debate. This was not going to be University Challenge.This was what the corridors of Stormont must look like on a daily basis. A hanging bitterness of any opposition ,even though an agreement for government was reached long ago. Democracy at work in its finest form.
Within a period ten years no one is allowed to smoke indoors. Pubs and restaurants are now smoke free zones. More and more people no longer allow smoking inside their own homes.Everyone goes outside for fear of stinking up the place or contaminating everyone’s lungs. It is basically now pushed to the margins of society. Cigarette packs are no longer beautifully designed . They now carry warnings of terrible diseases and death. Ian Paisley , in face of reasoned commentary , resorted to his usual bullying tactics and when that didn’t work , he began accusing Martina Anderson of bombing children as though this was now 1970 and we’d all been returned in the Tardis ,to a time of ongoing conflict. He came across as some petulant little schoolboy , thrashing about looking for someone to blame. The transparency of his tirade was embarrassing. He couldn’t really see that there was nothing, nor no-one, to blame but global money. Tobacco companies are producing a drug which is a drain on our health services and is killing our citizens so it’s a bit of a conundrum to find our right- wing religious politicians moralising about its production. These are the same politicians that would rush to the podium to ban marijuana which is not nearly as toxic as their beloved tobacco.
Now there’s an idea .Maybe the Gallaher factory could be converted into a Marijuana production plant like some of those places in certain American states like Colorado. Said production and use of marijuana or its derivetives might mellow the good folk of Ballymena and Northern Ireland out a bit..It may even have a major effect on the voting patterns of Northern Ireland and steer our citizenry in a “greener” and more cerebral direction.
It would find ready buyers worldwide if it was a quality product and could also be taxed while replacing all those lost jobs. Whether it was used locally or exported to more enlightened places,it would certainly make a lot of people a little more more thoughtful and happy. It might even put a smile on to Ian Paisley’s face, take a few knots out of his spine and calm him down a bit.
Thinking outside the box idea number three. What have they all got to lose?
Spot on Jude. Rampant globalisation which has witnessed the erosion of workers rights in countries which are effectively governed by lackeys in the pay of corporations is responsible for the loss of thousands of jobs in manufacturing here and across the developed world.
Cheap and wilfully ignorant statements by Jr and others in order that they may sore political points ignores the reality of the above fact. They need to open their eyes.
When Ian Og Paisley was og his father, the Rev. Ian Ogre Paisley would have been confronted with a dilemma when if came to choosing whether to purchase a particular brand of cigarette (oops, almost wrote, fag) or not.
(Ogre, incidentally, is leprechaun for Major).
The brand in q. was the poetically named ‘Sweet Afton’ upon whose gorse-yellow packet were inscribed the following lines from the poet laureate of Ulster-Scots, Rabbie Burns.
‘Flow gently, Sweet Afton ! among thy green braes
Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise’.
The brand which dated from 1919 until it ran out of puff in 2011 had those memorably limpid lines overshadowed in latter years by the following stark warning in a black frame: ‘Toradh caithimh tobac -bas/ Smoking kills’. It is not thought that those substitute lines were culled from the collected works of Rabbie B.
The second last word in the original first line is one of the elements which would have given RIP pause: but, then, on second thoughts, perhaps not. After all, the Bob Jones University is located in Greenville, South Carolina and that never caused a problem. Besides, the fact that the brand was invented south of the frontier in El Paso/Dundalk would have been cancelled out by the place of origin of the tobacco: Virginia. (as distinct from Virginia, County Cavan).
Incidentally, while the discourse is located in Dixie at this moment, Perkie would recommend the divine Jo Stafford treatment of the evocative song; that is, Jo in her normal angelic mode, as distinct from her persona as ‘Cinderella G. Stump’ doing her howdy-doody take on ‘Tim-tayshun’.
When ‘Sweet Afton’ was launched on an unsuspecting nicotine-drinking market there was a certain class of American academic (possibly on the faculty of the Bob Jones University, indeed) who immediately spotted the link between the brand name and its function: cigarettes burn and so did Rabbie, even if the burn which flowed gently through the g. braes would have had a dampening effect on that concept.
Alas, while on the topic, the possibility of Bannockburn 2 has been severely knocked on the crown by the wee, sleekit, cowerin’, timorous beasties of the Betters Together.
The American academic would have, of course, been wrong. The reason why the PJ Carroll tobacco company chose that name for the brand is because Dundalk had a strong tie with R. Burns: his sister was married and buried there, though not necessarily in that order.
Jean Louis Sartre lui meme might well have been the key factor in tipping Paisley Major against choosing ‘Sweet Afton’. In the immediate post mayhem years of 45 onwards ‘Sweet Afton’ became le cigarette du jour among the clued-in psueds and other intellectuals on La Rive Gauche of Paris (sans the s sound). It featured prominently in many a Nouvelle Vague fillum and it was Gwyneth Patlrow’s coffin nail of choice in ‘The Royal Tannenbaums’. which was more nouvelle but less vague.
It is a possible cartainty that Sartre would not have thumped the Big Mon’s pulpit. And even when Afton Major was introduced, as a sop, perhaps, it is a virtual c. that Paisley Major still remained unmoved to purchase.
The question is begged: did the Reverend Ian Ogre Paisley smoke? Cigarettes, that is. Apart from when the pounding the p.
You pointed out, Esteemed Blogmeister, the inclination of Ian Og Paisely to pull a particular pet debating trick of his out of a hat when his back is to the wall and his argument on the floor: a trick with long-ears, powerful hind legs and a plume of soft fur for a tail. This pet trick is called a rabbit and involved the detailing of particular Republican atrocities with particular relish. The rabbit is to Paisley what the McGuffin was to Hitchcock.
This is also a ploy much favoured by the Free Southern Stateen parties, none more so than the media pet, Pat Rabbit. He, of course, used to be an Easter Bunny in his student days but of course, sadly became infected with the myxomatosis of Me Feinery in the intervening years. Myxomatosis is also colloquially known as myxo or mixi and is not to be confused with the (albeit) equally lethal Maxi.
Rabbits can see nearly 360 degrees. The ‘nearly’ is not unimportant as there is a small blind spot on the bridge of the nose. In the case o Ian Og Paisley it prevents him from seeing the slaughter being currently wrought on ‘innocent passers by’ by the RAF on high at the moment in the lands of sand. This is what prevents him from riffing on that specific topic at the mo.
Ian Og learned well in the Beersbridge Road burrow from Ian Ogre Paisley the technique and tricks of debate. In fact, he never stopped bugging the Big Mon, so much so that he acquired the nickname ‘Bugs’ as a boy. Thus, the most commonly heard question in Chez Paisley was:
What’s up, Doc?
Mighty Perk , not only did you bless us with you commentary but you managed to squeeze in the New Wave and ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’ to boot ….wonderful , wonderful. I, for one am grateful that you chose to take thyme from your busy herb garden of sweet blossoms to actually comment ….
May I add my voice to yours, PK – the Mighty P doesn’t just add to the gaiety of nations, he creates it…