Thursday, December 02, 2004


Cuimhnigh mé ar scéal a léigh muid ar scoil. 'Dúil' ar ab ainm dó, faoi leanbh ag féachaint ar dáthanna álainn ag scapagh aníos tríd an fuinneog - ceapaim go bhfuil gloine daite san fuinneog. Ceapann an leanbh go 'jewels' a tá i gceist, is tá dúil mór aici dóibh. Deanann sí lán iarracht dul ag féachaint níos gearr orthu, is dá bharr, foghlamaíonn sí conas 'crawl'. Tá dúil mór agam anois bheith ag labhairt agus smaoineamh arís as gaeilge. Tá sé ag cur as dom nach bhfuil éinne a bhfuilim compordach cumarsáid trí gaeilge leo. Tá an teanga ag imeacht uaim, is ní thaitníonn an mothúchan sin liom ach oiread.

I guess reading Faraday the Blob reminicising over wonderful Bewley induced moments inspired that Irish. AND now I'm angry - I hate that I feel I have to apologise for my grammatical, syntax, spelling, punctuation in Irish.

That feeling comes from years of having to deal with those small nasty smug people who feel, in err, that they have more of a right to use this language, which is owned by anyone who chooses to try to express themselves in it. Oh the joy they take, in correcting the way I pronounce certain words, or just the merest gentle shudder at the fact that my accent is all Dublin. That's smug and quite simply if you're one of them, be comfy tonight in the knowledge that I abhore your arrogance. In short I hate you.

Comparable in terms of worseness (yes folks, I can err in English too) is that HORRIBLE Irish trait of disrespecting our language, one of few clues we have to the history of this little atlantic rock. You are destroying it and you're wrong. What made you so horrible and bitter? Why aren't you damn proud even if only twenty people speak it either badly or goodly across the globe at any given time?

I don't want to hear ever again those little yelping wails about bad experiences at school. As good old Denis Leary says, 'WEAR A HELMET'. Grow up, I hated all sorts of things in school, big frigging deal.

My French teacher didn't like my guts, so what, only an ass would condemn a whole language based on that. Yeah she was 'une fou' (or is it un fou? I dunno, but if you getting my drift then alles gut in den Weld) but...

French is wonderful, beautiful, expressive, fragrant, different, exciting, sexy.

I was brutal at Physics, and the teacher hated me, but that doesn't mean I turn a cold eye on cars and pneumonic drills. I have had plenty of fun with both.

We should have fun with Irish. As Mark Doherty suggests, 'teach Irish through Porno Films', or as Hector does, travel abroad, use any words at your disposal - Irish, English, French, American, Latin, German, Spanish, whateva you likin - and express yourself. That's what language is folks, a form of communication. Yeah, it can be a weapon - can be used to marginalise people - but surely we're past that in Ireland yawn, can't we just grow up here and use it to do what we people like to do best, WAFFLE?

Look at Bono, who apparently is named that because a mate called him 'Bono Vox' (nice voice in latin). That rocks, that is great, that is intelligent use of expression, where something becomes self-referential, takes on its own meaning. Lovely, it becomes a story. Perfect, perfect, nice.


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