Celtic Tiger Penis Soup anyone? I hear it is recuperative and much sought after in the East. It certainly puts some fire in your balls.
As the Celtic Tiger ceased to prowl and instead lay emasculated and humiliated, we were forced to take on board the truly awful implications of gombeenery, corruption, bankruptcy and poverty.
Everyone has been burned.
I myself did some work for a guy who had been declared bankrupt and left tradesmen unpaid. Guess what, in my naivety, I now remain partially unpaid. Stupide fucker me, serves me right. I won’t pursue the matter. As with many things in life I have ended up the sadder and wiser fool.
The recent election campaign has shown the contempt in parts of the Southern media for the people in the North. We have more in common with the local unionists who must be taken aback at the vitriol and abuse from the forty shades of green towards Martin McGuinness.
This version of revisionism states categorically, confidently and ultimately wrongly that the Provisionals were at the root of the mayhem we experienced here. It absolves the British Establishment of responsibility, likewise the RUC and UDR, loyalist paramilitaries and the cheerleaders and godfathers who sent people out to do their bidding costing lives in the process.
One positive thing that the so called peace process has brought to the surface is an increasing accepting of responsibility across the Islands as more and more people have the humility and sense to say I accept my share of the blame.
Not so in the South. Where commentators have forgotten their own antecedents. Where Gay Mitchell, self-styled tormentor in chief of McGuinness, has forgotten the genesis of his own party. Micheal Collins, one of the greatest ever Irishmen, up to his elbows in blood, a hero of Old Ireland.
We have had a succession of them. The media pundits, the ordinary people, the vitriol and ignorance is shocking. I reserve the right of people to have their voice but when it is offensive I say no.
What has emerged is that the population voted for the Anglo Irish Agreement through the referendum, but they didn’t really know what they were enacting. So Martin McGuinness might be good enough for us up here, but not for the people down there.
So now, a shame on both your houses. James Joyce was right. As are the thousands of young people forced away from Ireland in what is our inevitable national condition.
Exile is good. Who in their right mind would want to live in this God forsaken place? No country for old men.
Let the she-pig at it.