Monday, March 30, 2015

The Idler, Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Wearing of the green

WIT a shillelagh at me arm and a twinkle in me oi, Oi'll be off to Tipperary 

in de mornin' ... Yes, it's St Patrick's Day and all over the world dey'll be 

marchin' and dancin' and drinkin' Guinness and wearin' de green.

In Dublin dey'll have bands from America, Mexico, Germany and Ireland 

itself marchin' through de city.

In Chicago dey'll dye de river green for five hours.

In Boston – some call dis de real capital of Ireland – dey've got a surprise 

guest for St Patrick's Day. De mayor, Marty Walsh, is goin' to introduce 

what he calls de Boston Yeti.

Now a Yeti is de Abominable Snowman – we all know dat – but I suppose 

as long as he's wearin' de green it's okay.

In London dey'll be sellin' Irish breakfast - Guinness sausage, black puddin' 

and white puddin', all washed down with Guinness. Also Pie of the Week – 

steak and Guinness, washed down with Guinness.

Here in Durban dere'll be Irish dancers, pipers and Guinness at de 

Westville Club. Also de Blarney Brothers, black puddin' and Guinness at 

de Barnyard Theatre in Umhlanga. Ah, de Blarney Brothers. You could be 

back in Connemara.

And Cork – dear old Cork – dere dey'll be havin'Guinness, dey'll be singin' 

Irish Rover, De Leavin' of Liverpool and all de rest of de ould songs; dey'll 

be foightin' in de streets, foights movin' pub to pub.

What's dat you say? Dat happens every night in Cork? Well, dat's true but 

tonight dey'll be wearin' de green ...

Stoopid

INVESTMENT analyst Dr James Greener takes issue in his latest grumpy newsletter 

with the "stupid and pointless" argument about the race of shareholders on the JSE. 

"All kinds of folk have rushed into the fray waving calculators and data in support 

of their own view. The unexplained part is why or how anyone is able to issue any 

analysis broken down by skin colour. Even discarding for a moment the fact that very 

few shareholders are own name individuals, unless the JSE's client broker accounting 

systems have changed recently, there has never been a field to record the race of a 

stockbroker's client." 

Barefoot

ZOLTAN de Rosner, of Pennington, joins the chit-chat about round-the-
corner and barefoot kicking in rugby.

"It reminds me of an Under-19 curtain-raiser 

 between Transvaal and Natal shortly after the King's Park opening. 

"Transvaal were awarded a penalty on their 10-yard line (yes, yards in 

those days) and up stepped a short, stocky front row forward who heeled a 

hole in the pitch, placed the ball upright – as was the way in those days – 

then, to a huge chorus of oohs, aahs and laughing, sat down and removed his 

right boot.

"He then addressed the ball stepped back five paces and, trundling up, 

kicked it toe-first some 60 yards, right through the middle of the posts.

"The crowd erupted as he sat down, replaced his boot, got up and continued 

the game.

"I can't remember who won and I'm sure those of your readers who were 

there can't either."

Yes, it's not just Lusikisiki where everyone kicks barefoot. They're pretty 

hot on it in Bez Valley also.

Chick lit

OVERHEARD in the Street Shelter for the Over-Forties: "Feminist 

literature? You mean cook books?"

Tailpiece

AN IRISH scrumhalf is standing before the Pearly Gates. A voice booms: 

"Seamus O'Neill is there any sin you have not confessed?"

"Well yes, dere is, I'm ashamed to say. It was a Test match against England 

at Lansdowne Road. We were two points behind, almost on full time. Dere 

was a maul right on de English line. Den de ball just popped back sudden-

like. I went for it, round de side of de maul. I knocked it on very slightly but 

de ref was unsighted. I flung myself across de line. De try was awarded. 

We won de Six Nations. But I know it was a knock-on. It's always bin on my 

conscience."

"Seamus O'Neill, that is no sin at all. You may enter.""

"Oh, tank you, St Peter, tank you!"

"It's St Peter's day off. Dis is St Patrick." 

Last word

The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad. For all their wars are merry, and 

all their songs are sad. - GK Chesterton

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