Back now, as promised last week, to Boot Hill.
Boot Hill, aka The Memorial Park, Islandbridge on Liffeyside, is where, of course, the recurring annual Dodge of the Demagogic Rule in DUPlin is held with its usual pomp and totemic solemnity.
In this solemn column this partrcular Dodge seems to be lasting almost as long, ROG, as the slow bicycle race between the Boks and the Lions below Table Mountain in Cape Town last Saturday. Call it the Hill beneath the Mountain, the Boot below the Table.
Ar ais arís anois, mar a gealladh an tseachtain seo caite, go Cnoc na mBrog.
Cnoc na mBrog, ata Páirc na gCuimhneachán, Droichead an Oileáin cois Life, mar a chleachtaítear an tSeift thimthriallach, bhliantúil an Riail Dheimeagogaigh in DUBlin leis an gnáth-mhustar agus a solúuntacht shiombalach.
Sa cholún sollunta seo dealraítear go bhfuil sé chomh leadránach le rás mall na rothar idir na Boic Mhora agus na Leoin faoi Shliabh an Bhoird an Satharn seo caite. Tabhair an Cnoc faoin Shlabh air, An Bhrog faoin mBord.
The Boot Hill Dodge has lodged itself on the Sunday nearest July 11 in the Free Southern Stateen where the ‘National’ Day of Commemoration commemorates (celebrates, not?) all Irishmen and Irishwomen who died in past wars’.What! No Transgender Irish? What! In past wars? Regardless of which war and (gulp) which SIDE, Syd?. (Whisper it: Black ‘n Tan lives matter, luv).
Tá an tSeift ar Chnoc na mBrog i ndiaidh í féin a chur i bhfostú go domhain (ar bhonn bliantúi) ar an Domhnach is gaire d’Iúil 11 san Saor Stáitín o Dheas, mar a chomorann Lá ‘Náisiúnta’ an Chuimhneacháin gach fear Éireannach agus gach bean Éireannach a fuair bás i gcogaidh stairiúla. A leithéid ! Gan aon Éireannach Trasnscneach ? A leithéid ! I gcogaidh stairiúla? Beag beann ar chén cogadh agus (slog) cen TAOBH, Syd? (Cogar: Tá tábhacht ag beatha Dubhchronach, a chroí).
Shoot !This year it just simply missed, Slim Pickens, being renamed for the day as (gulp) Poots Hill but it was a given that the saintly Leprechaun-booting Paul was there to lay a wreathe gravely in memory of the magificent heaven-sent, through-hell-went, heaven-bent 50,000 or so I. and I. (see above) who fell, never again to, erm, uprise. . There was hardly a dry eyelash in the Delta Variant-restricted, anal-retentive (no ‘mehole fartin’, pulease) and pensive guest list as the dashed melancholy strains of ‘Somme Enchanted Evening’ were played in honour of the Brutish and Oirish Lions who were led by Donkeys (yes, we pointedly mean YOU too, Lord Kitch ! )
Scaoil ! Seang Piocadh. I mbliana ba dhobair nar athaimníodh an láthair ar an lá mar (slog) Cnoc Poots ach bhí sé intuartha go mbeadh an bláthfhleasc á leagadh ag an Pol Naofa a chuireann an bhrog isteach sa Leipreacháinis, i gcuimhe ar na 50,000 laochra iontacha a thaisteal tri Ifreann le dul ar Neamh, agus a thit gan seans ar aiséirí. Ar éigean go raibh fabhra tirim nuair a seinneadh fonn tromchroích ‘Tráthnona faoi Gheasa an Somme’ i gcuimhne onortha na Leon B agus I a bhí treoraithe ag Asail (go háirithe Asal ar leith – sea, tusa atá i gceist, A Thiarna Kitch !).
The Battle of the Somme, incidentally, where so many Brutish and Oirish soldiers in the cac-coloured khaki showed bottle in the damp trenches way beyond the dim imagination, Slim, of those dippy, drippy stamp-collecting sippers-from-saucers back in their comfort zone of the GPO in DUPlin. Little wonder these latter amateurs could only be involved in a doomed and freefall, fool-hardy Rising,Thomas, which only managed to notch up around 500 fatalities, 40 of so of whom were children under the age of, erm, 16.
Dála an scéil, ag Cath an Somme, mar a léirigh an oiread sin saighdiuiri B agus O ina gcuid éadaigh liathbhui ar dhath an chaca, calmacht sna tirnsí taisleacha a sháraigh go millteanach aon ní suarach a d’fhéadfadh na meatacháin leamha sin agus iad i mbun stampaí a bhailiú le linn doibh bheith ag baint suimíní on mhionthábhacht ina limistéar so san GPO in DUBlin. Ní diol iontais é, mar sin, nár éirgh leis na chladhairí ciotacha seo leis an sprioc íseal feidhmíochta ach thart ar 500 básanna a bhaint amach ina nÉiri Isteach, a raibh 40 díobh no mar sin ina bpáistí faoi aaos a (slog) 16.
We are indebted for these not insignicant figures to that dedicated enumerator of the callow dead in their shallow graves, (genuflect) Joe ‘Guff’ Duffy: and which he totted up in his tombthick tome: Children of the Rising. Which he later followed up with his deadly serious Children of the Troubles: just where does the honorary consul of the SDLP (Soi Disant Labour Party) in DUBlin find the downtime for his lid-uplifting but tome-demanding duties from his ‘Talk or Speak to Joe’ on RTE which leaks 400,000 squids or so annually from the curse-of-God public purse?
Boot Hill is, of course, located on the high road to Ballyfermot, the most celebrated of whose natives is none other than the talkative Joe ‘Guff’ Duffy heself.. And whose deathless contribution to the Queenie’s Lingo is, by jingo, his unmissable Bally Far-out mispronunciation of the simple interrogrative:
-Y?
40 or so Children were killed during the Rising so that zero sum number will give us a DUPlin’s fair city idea of how many young ‘uns were killed during the presence of 50,000 Brutish and Oirish combatants during the Anglo-Saxon Civil War on the Euopean Mainland, mainly.
Táimid go mor faoi chomaoin as na figiúirí seo nach bhfuil neamhshuntasacha ag an áiritheoir tiománta sin, Joe ‘Guff’ Duffy, a shuimigh sé ina leabhar mor atá chomh tiubh-le -tuama: ‘Children of the Rising’. Lean sé níos déanai lena leabhar mor tromchúiseach: ‘Children of the Troubles. Cá bhfaigheann consal onortha an SDLP ( Pairíi Soi Disant an Lucht Oibre) in DUBlin an sos ama ona dhualgais diabhalta ar an seo: ‘Labhair no Pléigh le Joe; ar RTE Raidio a sceitheann 400,000 scuid in aghaidh na bliana on sparán damanta poiblí ?
Tá Cnoc na mBrog, ar ndoigh, suite ar an ard-bhothar go Baile i gCéin atá Baile Fhormad, gurb é an dúchasach is mo clú, iomrá agus bleadarachta Joe ‘Guff’ Duffy fein, a bhfuil formad aige le Poblachtánaigh.
There will be a numbing sum of Wellington Moument-high impotance (which obelisk, Bill, is in no risk of not been seen from Boot Hill) revealed in the third (or ‘turd’ as pronounced in Ballyer) of Joe ‘Guff’ Duffy’s thrilling Trilogy (to be) ‘Children of the Empire’s Civil War’ which will indubitably reveal, according to pro-rata data, that the number of mortally-wounded continental kids contemporaneous with the presence of the 50, 000 B and I butt-kickking warrorrs, Isaac, was:
– 4,000 but not rising.
It is a historical fact, rather than a hysterical factoid, is it not, that in 1916 die Saxe-Cobtug-Goth Familie were still triumphantly seated on their plump rumps in Schloss Vindsor, so they were. Was it for this the wild ganders meandered? You bet your top dollar twas, Fats Waller.
Nochtofar suim mhaolaitheach a mbeidh tábhacht chomh hard le Leacht Cuimhneacháin Wellington (obilisc í seo nach bhfuil aon bhaol ann nach mbeidh le feiceáil o Chnoc na mBrog nuair a Thiocfaid an Lá ) sa tríú leabhar de Thríolog an-chorraitheach (le bheith) ‘Páisíi Chogadh na gCarad na hImpireachta’. Suim, ar bhonn pro rata, gur maraíodh:
– 4,000 páistí na Mor-Roinne
le linn do raic, ruille buille agus rúscam raindi bheith á ligint le hiall go comhaimseartha ag 50,000 laochra fuilteacha B agus O.
Is fioras stairiuil, seachas fachtoíd histéireach, go raibh die Saxe-Coburg-Goth Familie fos ina suí ar a dtoineanna feolmhara féinshásta i Schloss Vindsor i 1916. An ar son a leithéid a rinne na gandail fhiáine falroid chun na Cinniúna? D’fhéadfá geall a chur go raibh do chosa ro-mhor, Fats Waller !
With die Konigschilling for cash in their kit bags, Johnny, the gallant 50 Thou in the stench-wrenched, blood-drenched trenches bravely (wily bankers back brave) launched into a- kicking and a-gouging in the mud and the blood and the tears. No boy called Sue, there, for sure, Lou.
And of course there was the call to support little Catholic Belgium, by gum. In whose Congo Empire only Bel as distinct from Bla lives mattered. This is a Dodge which is repeated to this day in the Mono-minded Mass Media (the Mass-going Media, not) of DUPlin. Geddit? And as the writhings of Congo Crisis O ‘Brain were later to reveal, Neil. Twas he who called for the Bells of the Angelus to be subject to Secton 31.
Le die kongischillin mar airgead tirim ina malai trealaimh, Johnny, theilg an 50 Mile Croga iad féin isteach gan laincis iseach i mbabhtai ciceála, scrabhííle i lár na láibe, na fola agus na ndeora sna trinsi bréana, crodhearga. Ní raibh aon bhuachaill darb ainm do Sue ansin, Lou.
Agus, ar ndoigh, cuireadh gairm amach ag lorg cabhrach don Bheilg bhideach Chaitliceach, dar fia, I mbolg na hImpireachta Beilge cois Congo ni raibh tabhacht ach leis an Treibbh Bhideach Bhán seachas leis an Treibh Mhillteanach Ghorm. Is Seift í seo a bhaineann na Mor-Mheáin ChomhAontaithe macalla go díograiseacha as. Gan trácht ar thabhairt na gcos o Congo Crisis O Brain, a léirigh a leithéidí níos déanaí. Dob é is a theastigh go ndéanfaí Cloig an Aingil a thabahirt faoi réir Alt 31.
However, any mench of Belgium being inadvertednly belched out during the surreal ceremeony on Boot Hill, will of course be servely squelched. Not least if and when Corporal Jeff replaces the sainted mutterer of misgivings Paul on the Sunday nearest July 11 next year in DUPlin. And the sight of the Wellington Monument (yes, the same Wellington whose birthhouse now houses the Merrion Hotel) in nearby Phoenix Park, noted for its solemn ceremonies commemorating the Rising, not, will have reminded C.J. to predictably pack up his kit-bag with his two different types of Welly: one for the weather and the other to greet Magog the all-shook up Taoiseach, the one with the T-shirt bearing the front logo of: I support England against Italy of the EU and, and in the first flush of defeat, the back logo of I will support the joint B and I application to stage the WC in 2030. (For these gratuitous gestures, the gratuities are in the post)
Ar ndoigh, déanfar aon tagairt a dhéantar gan mhacnamh ar an mBeilg le linn an tsearnmanais osréaligh ar Chnoc na mBrog, a chur faoi chois go dian.Go háirithe má agus nuair a ghlacfaidh an Ceannaire Jeff áit an Phoil Naofa ar an Domhnach is gaire don Iúil 11 an bhliain seo chugainn in DUBln. Is dearfa, freisin, go meabhroidh an radharc ar Leacht Cuimhneacháin Wellington in aice coise, i bPáirc an Fhionn Uisce, do Cheannaire Jeff, a dhá chineál bhuataisi rubair a phacáil ina máala trealaimh, ceann amhain don doineann agus an ceann eile le beannu do Mhagog, an Taoiseach suaite (an ceann a raibh logo tosaigh le feiceáil ar a Léine T: Tacaím le Sasana i gcoinne na hIodáile on EA, agus i dtús neamhchliste an chliste, ‘gheall sé a thacaiocht don gcomhiarratas o B agus I chun an slabhra sa WC a tharraingt agus a chur i láthair le chéile mar Chéilí Mor’
-Top of the A.M. to ye, P.M. !
–Dia dhuit ar Maidin, chugat, a Phríomh Aire !
Such are the caterpillar-wheeled thanks the Dodgers on Liffeyside can expect from their counterparts on Laganside. We touch on the weaponisation of bad manners here, Butch..
For a ‘nation’ to commemorate those of that ‘nation’ who fought against the same ‘nation’ makes the uttterly gormless Free Southern Stateen truly an outlier on the Global Scale of Warming one’s Butt, Iaaac. But then, outlier is text for ‘out and out liars’ is it not?
Seo é an buíochas le crios boinn is féidir leis na Seiflteoirí cois Life lofa bheith ag súil leis ona a macasamhail cois Lagain.Táimid ag tagairt d’armáil drochbhéasa anseo..
Glactar le ‘náisiún’ a dhéanann iad siúd on ‘naisiún’ sin a throid i gcoinne an ‘náisiúin’ chéanna a cheiliúiradh, sé sin an Saor Stáitiin o Dheas, mar asluiteach bománta ar Scála Domhanda na dtoineanna amadánta, bogthe, Theobald. Ach ar ndoigh is é ‘outlier’, an téacs ar ‘bréagadoir an bhoinn oir’
Glorious stuff, entirely, worthy of another colic-inducing, melancholic bar of ‘Somme Enchanted Evening’, that evergreen anthem penned by Rogers and ‘Ammersmith, guv.
Stuif oirirc, go huile is go hiomlán, a bhfuil barra eile, barra atá coiliceach is duairc, on dreas ceoil a bhfuil toir i gconaí air ‘Somme Enchanted Evening’ a chum Rogers agus ‘Ammersmith, guv.
Who can explain it?
Who can tell you Y?
Fianna fools give you reasons so thick
Wise men never try.
But only split the posts with an udder grubber kick.,
Which brings us neatly, Pete, to the next Dodge, this time a daily Dodge involving the Dailys and the Sundays with their sundae supplements in DUPlin.
(See Photo 2)
This involves one of the Great Glove Stories of all Time, up there with Romeo and Juliet, Diarmaid agus Gráinne, and, of course, Frankie and Johnny (the gay, updated versh to be varnished with Pride). It is a Glove Story which is packed, stacked and doublewhacked with politics, glic wit and texts.
A thugann muid go slachtmhar, Mac, go dtí an chéad Sheift eile, Seift laethúil an babhta seo, ina bhfuil páirt ag na Nuachtáin Laethiúla agus na Nuachtáin Domhnaigh lena bhForlíonadh Sundae in DUPlin.
(Amharc Griangraf 2)
Baineann seo le ceann de Mhor-Scéala Lámhainne na Staire, ar chomhchéim le Romeo agus Juliet, Diarmaid agus Gráinne, agus, ar ndoigh, Frankie agus Johnny (scéal aerach, comhairmseartha, snasta le Brod, bod). Is Scéal Lámhainne atá líonta le léasphátitíocht ghlic agus téacsanna.
The next Dodge is how the Mono-Minded Mass Media (still the Mass-going Media, not) in DUPlin gtoovily opertate hand in glove with the Demagogic Rule by Dodge. The identically tilted Hierarchy of the Hackitariat back by becoming the Meida Partners of the Dodgers in the EmmerDáil farm of Leitnster House to the sourpussed hilt in the Presidential Suite of the Hilton Arus, Paris..
Baineann an chéad Sheift eile leis an bealach a chomhoibríonn Na Meáin Chumarsáide Comhaontaithe agus an Riail Déimeagogach le Seift as lámha a chéile in DUPlin ata Cathair na Seifte.. Tacaíonn an Cliarlathas Claonta go Comhionainn na Meán Baaaa leis na Seifteoií ar Fheirm EmmerDáil i dTeach Laighean go pusachánach, go Seomrai an Uachtaráin san Hilton féin i bParis.,
A hint of this Dodge was minted last week when TUT came out of the oval-shaped closet to (roll of the drums, certrifugal pump of the trumpets in Strumpet City) to announce (tarantara, tarantara) it has become a (gasp) Media Partner of Leinster Rugby !!!!!!!!
Thus making TUT, officially, (gulp) The Paper of Ruck-ord.
Stating the obvious, Gus, just doesn’t get any more yawn-generating that this, Sis.
So, just how does this work.?
Tugadh leid den Seift seo an tseachtain seo caite nuair a tháinig TUT amach as an cofra ubhchruthach (rolladh na ndrumaí, caidéal lartheifeach na dtrumpaí i gCathair an Stripaigh) le cur in iúl (tarantara, tarantara) go raibh si tar éis claochlú go bheith na Phairtnéir Cumarsáide le Rugbaí Laighean !!!!!!
Go hoifigiúil, mar sin, is ionann TUT, agus (slog) Nuachtán na mBoc RUC, a Choimisnéir.. Ní ráiteas follasach go dtí é, Shay. Mar sin, conas a oibrítear é?
Cue: Air on a G-string by a former stalwart back-row forward in B,.A.C..
G for Gervaise. Gervaise, sadly, of the long, lugubrious face and wearing the Triple Crown of Thornley since last Saturday when the Brutish and Oirish Lions were hockeyed by a cricket score in a rugby game by the Boks; by triple scores, indeed: 27-9.
As the traditional veldt song might well have warned them, Mel: to Wimoweh is wan thing, but to actually Win Away is quite another.
Leid: faoi leider Fonn ar an dTéad G o iar-thosach dílis sa líne chúil in B.A.C.
G do Gervaise. Go bronach, leis an aghaidh fada, gruama agus Coroin Thriarach Thornley á chaitheamh aige on Satharn seo caite nuair a chuir na Boic Mhora snaidhm dhubh faoi thrí in eireabaill na Leon: 27-9.
Mar a dhéadfadh an sean-amhrán traidisiúnta on bheildt foláireamh a thabhairt doibh saor in aisce, a Thaisce: is rud amháin é Wimoweh, ach is rud ar fad eile Bua a Ghnothú i bhfad i gCéin.
So, how did the passionate yet uber-impartial Gervaise in his usual head-masterly fash mark out of 10 the Lions who Slept that night, not to mention most of the early evening. Well, Henshaw, Furlong and Conan who were all at and on 6s and 7s figured among the top Five of the Fifteen terrrificly soporific Lions.
Mar sin, conas a rinne Gervaise, atá chomh neamhchlaonta is atá sé paiseanta ina ghnáth síil ardmháistrúil, marcanna as 10 a dháileadh ar na Leoin a chodail, ní amáin an oíche sin, ach on luath-thráthnona chomh maith?
Bhuel bhain Henshaw, Furlong agus Conan, a bhí trína chéile ar fad, ní hea, ní náid, a Pháid, ach 6-anna agus 7-anna amach, figiúirí a d’fhág iad sa bharr cúigear den Chúigaer Leon Codlaiteach Déag.
Leinster lads, one and all, oddly enough.. From Leinster to Leinster House, from the Brutish and Oirish Lions to Teach Leo the Loin-hearted Leotard: Bearing in mind and baring in fangs that sport is THE most political of all political pursuits among the suits in the capital of the Free Southern Stateen, Dodge City, so? So, how then, does it work on the political front with the Mass Media working hand in glove as Media Partners with the Demagogic Rulers by Dodge?
Leaideanna Laighean, aisteach go leor. O na Leoin B agus O go Teach Leo an Chroí-Luain. Ná dearmadaigh an stair agus déan na starrfhiacla a nochtadh gurb é an sport AN caitheamh aimsire agus AN cur isteach ama is mo a bhuil toir ag na cultacha comhaontaithe i gCathair na Seifeanna, príomhchathair an tSaor Stáitín o Dheas: mar sin conas a oibríonn na Mor-Mheáin Cumarsáide
Comhaontaithe as lámha a chéile leis na Rialtoiri Déimeagogacha le Seift?
-This is a question rhetorical, esteemed Oracle.
-Is ceist reitriciuil i seo, a Oracail urrumaigh.
Cue: Singing Snarleeen as she choruses the Karl Denver classic;
Leid leider: Snarleen Chantach i mbun amhrán clasaciceach Karl Denver a chasadh:
We-de-de-de, de-de-de-de-de de, we-um-um-a-way (drum fill*)
We-de-de-de, de-de-de-de-de de, we-um-um-a-way
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
*Lambeg drum-fill, optional.
*Tá an rolla-druma Lambeg roghnach.
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