When Prince Chuck with a camán in his hand posed for a few token pucks of a sliotar for the twitterati in the turreted surrounds of Kilkenny Castle recently, with King Henry of Hurlington in attendance, the irony truly entered the soul as soon as the Main Stream Media reacted.
-Of course, gushed a chap named Oisín Langan, of Newstalk fm sports unit, cricket was the main sport in Kilkenny before the GAA was founded n 1884 !
It’s a wonder entirely Oisin didn’t mention the striped Black and Amber rudaí which the local stickfighers now wear, namely ganseys. Rud, of course, is the Leprechaun for thing and rudaí is the plural form of same.
(Not at all to be confused with the Amber Rudd who almost didn’t make it back to the Axminister of Westminster recently, having been almost axed indeed. Else we wouldn’t have had a Headline called The Return of the Thing in the Daily Projectile Vomit , that sorta thingy).
The presenter of the wireless prog to whch Oisín L (for L-plates) was reporting, outgushed even Oisín when he backed up the this hysterical lack of historical fact by the sporting hack by aiming his own googly at the GAH.
-Howzat !
George Hook (for it is he!), whose field position in Shoneenism is silly mid-on, should take a well-desrved bow for endorsing this breath-taking spin delivery of fake sporting news.
Kilkenny is, apres tout, the place most associated with a peculiarly low-level yet intsnse type of English racism directed at the Naitivists and their primitive tribal games.
-You gotta change more than just your Kit, son.
(See under the Statutes of Kilkenny 1366 which King Edwarde Ye Turde enacted with the main intention of making backsliding English settlers return to English ways and English customs. Meaning, in a phrase ‘Ye Impostion of of Ye olde compulsorie Englishe’ and ‘Ye Banning ye Stickfighting of ye Yokels’.
The kind of Statutes (with a T) which Tree Hugga Hooky of Planet Rugga must find very, erm, moving and whose very mobility must have prevented him from ever becoming acquainted with the devilishly clever details of same.
Incidentally, the Prince mentioned above must be acquitted of any assocaition witht his low-level yet intense form of prototype English racism on account, of course, of his beloinging to a Teach Teutonic/ a German House.
-Heil Karl Saxe Coburg Goth !
Re-spect.
Oisín ? Not sure if Oisín was part of the amateur era of the GAA or whether he predated Setanta in the semi-professinal era : the reason one asks is on account of the mooted Chuck-sponsored Long Puck Competition across the Cooley Mountains, where once the game of the coolie was yet unknown.
This photo shoot in the Marble City, or rather the MSM response to same, provided a nigh perfect prelude to the possibly garbled response of the bar-bell-brained Main Stream Media in the Free Southern Stateen to the Wee Election north of the Black Sow’s Dyke.
The one held in conjunction with the Mainland Election in which the P.M. may well have made a Dog’s Brexit of,erm, running through her morning field of Weetabix.
First up in the Main Stream Media (aka Anti-Social Media) in the Free Southern Stateen was, erm, Rachel English of RTE.
-Gerry Adams, good morning.
-Good morning, Rachel, maidin mhaith.
(Silence. Dead Air. Tost. An Sos Tosta).
No response from Rachel English to the greeting in Leprechaun. Lost, unlike some (see below) for the Cúpla Focal.
Second up, was, erm, Mz Inez Interchangable of Swop fm when reporting on Arlene’s Is féidir liom moment:
-Sin e !
-Wow !
Sooooo reminiscent of Mary the Second’s reaction to Elizabeth the Second’s Sin é moment:
-Wow!
Next up was, erm, Mis Rihanna Reciprocal of Equivalent fm also reporting on Arlene’s Is féidir liiom moment:
-Sin é !
-Wow !
Sooooo reminiscent of Mary the Second’s reaction to etc (see above).
Next up was, erm, Mis Sue Synonym of Xerox fm also reporting on Arlene’s Is féidir liom moment:
-Sin é !
-Wow !
(Curiously, a chorus of similar womanly Wows ! was subsequently heard from the Ms Kate Duplicate of Ditto fm and Ms. Tina Tantamounf of Indistinguishable fm on Liffeyside).
A red carpet, so, of Fáilte Ui Cheallaigh / Kelly’s Welcome on Radioland south of the Black Sow’s Dyke to Miss Foster’s fearless attempt at her (gulp) foster language.
Did, does one hear, any of the Comey Maidens of the Crossroads Cois Life think to enquire of the Provisional Sin é Leader about the Billitant Wing of her party?
-Pull the UDA one, pul-eaze.
Over in the print media, meanwhile, the ever peace loving Paul Williams of Independent (sic) House sought out Councillor Mannix Flynn’s spin on the Shinners:
-Sinn Féin is a cult.
Come again, Mannix?
-Sinn Féin is a cult: c-u-l-t.
Now, the peace (and police) loving Paul Williams has no time at all, at all for the criminal classes and other sinners. In fact he believes (strongly) they should be confined to sun-shunning cells and the keys depostied in the Dabube, a river dearly beloved of na Leinte Gorma. He is rumoured to be in process of penning his auto-biography, to be entitled:
-Wor and Peace.
The title is derived from his quite phenomenal inability to pronounce the ‘were’ word in the German Q’s English. As in:
-I wor born and bred in Ballinamore, County Leitrim. When I wor in school I wor beaten to a pulp during Irish language classes and wor more often than not scoffed at by Irish language teachers who wor truly cruel.
Hence his life-long and understandable detestation of the Leprechaun, and his subsequent difficulties with the ‘wor’ word.
Mannix Flynn is also a man who has penned his own autobiography, entitled:
-Nothing to say.
The Perkin, not having read same, can well believe it.
Councillor Mannix, also a man who has done the crime and done the time (and never lets the world know about it) is currently a self-perpetuating member of Aos Dána.
Which means he is one of those having-run-the-rule-over, Fintan O Toole-approved battery pen-pushers with egg-shaped heads, and an aversion now to brow-sweating for a livelinhood, and who gets to squat in a master incubator even as he plots his play or pome or Paul Williams interview itself.
Being subsidised to do so for a paltry 17,000 squids a year which is, quite coincidentally, the current, under the counter market value of a bottle of, erm, Chateau Tax Payer.
There is no truthniess, incidentally, in the unfounded rumour that Aos Dána is a cult.
-C-u-l-t.
(To be contd).
Agus, go raibh maith agat Perkin.
Fáilte romhat, Mark.
Are there many more of a similar mindset to yourself in the Free State, Perkin, or are you a lone voice in the West British wilderness?
It might come as a surprise to you, Fiosrach, a chara, but there is a pandemic of Perkinitis in the Free Southern Stateen, going forward. Though the Main Scream Media (aka Anti-Social Media) might give a different impression.
Think of it in terms of Crocodiles and Alligators. This goes back to the winter of discontent whch lasted throughout the Seventies and the Eighties in whch the Crocodiles were conditoned to think of themselves as Alligators in the Section 31 County Republic.
This bench mark of Mind Control legislation was the brain child of Conor Craze O Brain, the legendary seeker after Truthiness, a fine English mind trapped in a West British carapace..
Or rather, winters of discontent. From Truthiness to Toothiness.
Perhaps the best way to explain the difference between the C s and the A’s to those who might be a tad vague in the A to Z of zoology and newsology alike, is to conjure up images of the Comedy Duo of Mike and Bernie Winters. Bernie was the lad with the prominent teeth. In the same way, the Crocodiles are the reptiles with the prominent teeth.
But were cowed into concealing their sparklers in a grimace of grim acceptance, such was the atmosphere of hints and allegations, allegations and hints cultivated by a muzzled and compliant Main Scream Media / Anti-Social Media of the FSS.
It is only now the Crocodiles are at last beginning to flash their fangs again, thanks to the advent of Social Media (take a bow, Esteemed Blogmeister).
Sin é.