Ah sure we just can't govern ourselves.
We pissed the cash against the wall and outsourced the care of our
kids to an ecclesiastical paedophile ring.
It's an embarrassment really. Best just to let others govern our
affairs. After all, they know what's best for us. They're grown ups.
They're more sophisticated than us. Just look at the clothes on them
and the way they carry themselves. They have dignified poise whereas
we're just a bunch of emotionally damaged drunks staggering about the
place. They go to war too. They go to war to protect their interests
whereas we just go to war with ourselves. It's not easy going to war
to protect your interests. It demands mature deliberation. Can you
see us maturely deliberating? No, me neither.
We are certainly disrespected abroad
and we are probably hated. It has come time to change that. It has
come time to tidy ourselves up. It has come time to have a wash and a
shave and do as we're told. The time has come to cop on. And that is
what we have done. That's what we did on Thursday. We bowed our heads
in supplication and handed the keys of the car back to Daddy before
we crashed it again. Some might extend that analogy to point out that
Daddy was in the passenger seat, drunkenly demanding we overtake
traffic and keep switching lanes, but that kind of talk is
disrespectful. Have more respect for Daddy. After all, he's a grown
up.
Some of us still live in the past and
talk about risings and rebellions but supplication is the game these
days. There's no shame in it. We gave the whole independent nation
thing a go. We really did. But, you see, there's something wrong with
us. There is something seriously wrong with us that we refuse to take
responsibility for ourselves, that we can't invest in ourselves or
have faith in ourselves, or even consider that self-improvement is a
remote possibility. We have failed ourselves so many times that we
have dismissed ourselves entirely. Quite right too.
We're very lucky that they're helping
us out. We should remember that every single morning. Every single
morning we get out of bed we should give thanks. They are very kind.
We're really not worth the bother. We're as bad as the Greeks. Sure
if the Greeks go all that will be missed is a bit of feta cheese and
if we go all that will be missed will be the odd sack of spuds.
Let's get serious people. We're a joke.
The people of Ireland took the right decision on Thursday for the
right reasons. I, for one, am proud of Ireland. For the first time in
my life I am proud of Ireland because Ireland has at last realised
that it should be ashamed of itself.
Ah the auld shame, now that is what it
means to be truly Irish.
1 comment:
Often, when I find myself parleying with my Continental cousins (Northern, not Southern riff raff OBVIOUSLY!) I find it helpful to agree with everything they say, nod when appropriate and let out loud laughs of gusto in response to anything even mildly funny. In this manner I have found that terms like Untermensch and Clochard don’t get bandied about as much, and I return home to my little island with a lot less spittle on my face.
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