Roast Leg

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At one time it would have been deemed an ‘act of God’. 

That then would be a particularly harsh judgement on the Almighty.

The family car was travelling through the night and far from anywhere when Pallop Thachao was caught short.  They pulled over to the verge and let him out.  He stood beneath an electricity pole and began to urinate.  Suddenly there was a flash of light.

His family feared the worst.  They searched for him in the darkness but all they found was ashes.  Strangely his artificial leg was still standing upright, all by itself, with the foot welded to the ground and smoke coming from the top.

The police chief explained. 

‘It was the leg that did it.  He might have survived but his prosthetic leg was a strong conductor of electricity. 

There was a heavy rainstorm last night and ground water collected around the pole. 

An exposed cable was in contact with the water and the stream of urine completed an electrical circuit.

This incident demonstrates the folly of urinating near electrical equipment,

especially during the rainy season’, he added, rather needlessly, I thought. 

And heartlessly.

In any case, consider yourself well warned!

 

Read moreRoast Leg

Bojo Rides Again!

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In Camberwell, East, where the money tree grows
Bozo was snorting coke straight up his nose
Bleary-eyed, belching and spilling red wine
Till suddenly he heard his mate, Carly’s sad whine
“You’re so vain, Bozo, you filthy aul Turk
Why don’t you go find some real honest work.
Put away your Johnson, Boris de Pfeffel
-Surely a clue there – for you talk only waffle.”

But through the grey mists of his drug-induced dream
Bozo had visions of pastures supreme
Sunny meadows and blue skies, of a resurgent Britain –
At least England and Wales – he wasn’t quite certain
Of the threacherous Picts, under that tasty girl salmon
-In every intrigue, yer wan had a hand-in –
Or the rebellious Irish, the O’Neills of the Fews
Brought nothing but heartache and ugly fake news.

A wall! A wall! A massive great wall
Will sort that lot out, I’ll give Donald a call
And Leo will pay for it, of that I’m quite certain
From Derry to Dundalk, an inpenetrable curtain!
Then we’ll reinforce Hadrian, right up to the sky
No treasonable Scot again, will ever get by
Seize the Aberdeen oil-fields, refinery and all
But to get there we’ll have to erect a SEA WALL.

…. more here …

Act of God

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I hesitated to ascribe the previous story to an ‘act of God’. Not so this one. 


 

‘The hillside was a well-known area for young lovers,’ explained the police chief. ‘Unfortunately it also attracts voyeurs spying on their antics.

These three men were peeping toms who liked to hide in an old broken-down hut, in which they had installed a high-powered telescope. Yesterday afternoon all three were watching a young couple having sex in their car. They were so engrossed that they failed to notice an electrical storm had begun.
 

A bolt of lightning struck the telescope’s metal casing. All three were hit at the same time and only survived because they shared the impact of the super-high voltage. All three suffered serious burns to their hands and legs and could not talk for hours from shock.

We let them off with a caution. They had been punished enough.

I don’t know about the young couple, but I believe the earth moved for these three’, he added, rather unsympathetically.

Read moreAct of God

Answers to Deduction Posers

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Reasoning 1: Answers

 

1          D         The two sentences here assume that concentrated study is a sufficient (as well as being a necessary) condition for academic success.

 

2          D         Try this yourself using an empty cereal packet and a Stanley knife.  Left is a triangular shape.  Eight of these create 24 extra sides to total 36.

 

3          B          The main conclusion is embedded close to the start of the argument:  that there ought to be a mass vaccination programme.

 

4          D         It is assumed that the only way spiders can harm people is by biting them (this doesn’t have to be true to be assumed within the argument)

 

5          C         The first line is the main conclusion of the argument – that people who win elections are never the right leaders (again, it doesn’t have to be accepted as truth – merely the main thrust of this argument).

 

6          D         That one place is unsafe doesn’t make other places safer!  The logical flaw would vanish if the last sentence were to begin..’If it were true..’ rather than.. ‘But as it is clearly untrue..’

 

7          E          190.  If there are 380 members now, half this number must have brought a new member each at the last AGM.  Indeed the number of new members any year must be equal to the number of existing members turning up for the AGM.

 

8          A         5.5 hours.  There is one hour each on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday, and one and a half hours on Thursday morning.

Read moreAnswers to Deduction Posers

Irish Politics Simplified

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Ireland is an island to the west of Britain.  Britain is an island to the West of Europe.  Britain comprises England, Wales and um … um … No.  Wait.  There’s a referendum pending.  Can I come back to you on the question of just what Britain is?

Some people in the North of Ireland refer to the Mainland … by which they mean Britain (whatever that is!).  The people of Rathlin, the only inhabited island off the coast of Northern Ireland would never talk thus: though they are the only ones entitled to talk about the Mainland (if they did, they would mean Ireland, not Britain).  Are you following me so far?

The fanatically loyal people refer to Norn Iron, petrol-bomb the police (and British Army, when they were on the streets), loudly proclaim their ‘culture’ by which they mean the Butcher’s Apron (sometimes known as the Union Flag, which is the banner of disunity); stomp outside Churches,  as good Prodesants, loudly yelling that they’re ‘up to our necks in Fenian blood’, a claim few could deny;  defy the democratic will of the people, North and South; assault all moderates, especially those on their ‘own side’, i. e. Alliance; join paramilitaries and insist on their credentials as democrats. They win headlines all over the world for their violence and fanaticism: and complain bitterly about being ignored. I hope you’re writing this down?  You’ll never remember it!

Approximately one third of Irish people (those that don’t live abroad, that is  … a diminishing fraction, since mass emigration resumed, this decade) live in Northern Ireland – which is actually six of the thirty-two counties, located mainly in the North-East!  The other twenty-six comprises the Republic of Ireland (not recognised as such by Irish Republicans, who prefer to know it, sarcastically, as the Free State.  They believe it is anything but FREE!).    The Norn Iron Loyalists want the Border between these two entities sealed, but no one can find it, or remember where it is!  Anyway, where would you get that much sticky tape?  They insist they comprise an overwhelming majority in Norn Iron, but are actually a significant minority.

Martin McGuinness, formerly PIRA leader, now Deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland, insists on describing himself still as a Republican, though he daily administers British Rule in Ireland.  He is opposed in this by the IRA – formerly the Real IRA and the Continuity IRA and … well, you get the drift.  They – his former comrades, friends and relations – insist on their right to oppose the British by force of arms: a thing Martin would never do!  Well, never do NOW!  He believes we are all basking in the comfort, wealth and prosperity that his Peace Process has delivered!  He also believes in the Tooth Fairy.

The capital of Ireland is Dublin. It has a population of over a million people, all of whom are now scanning the Internet in search of work in Australia.  Most are migrants already – from the Western Seaboard, a derelict, deprived and desolate place, owned by foreigners and studded with empty million-euro homes that are only half-finished.  Daniel O’Donnell is chieftan of this lost tribe.  Unable to feed or clothe them, he contents himself by singing ballads to them.  In this task he is aided by Dana, an OAP waif who really wants to be President.  To buy goods they use a currency called the Euro, which is one step up from Monopoly money.

Under the Irish constitution, ‘The North’ used to be in Ireland  but a very successful 30+ year campaign of violence for Irish unity ensured that it is now most definitely in the UK .  Even the ‘Republicans’ accept that! Had the campaign lasted any longer the North might now be in Germany.  Indeed in a very real sense it is, since they are the only Europeans not in deficit – and therefore keeping us all afloat … if only just.

Belfast is the capital of Northern Ireland. It has a population of half a million, half of whom own houses in Donegal (and therefore come under the aegis of the said Daniel (see above)).  Donegal is in the north of Ireland but not in Northern Ireland. It is in the South.  Even though it’s the most northerly county of Ireland.  Are you still paying attention?

There are two parliaments in Ireland.  The Dublin parliament is called the Dáil (pronounced “Doyle”, as in Mrs Doyle from Father Ted … [Ach, ye will!  You will, you will, you will!]) an Irish word meaning a place where banks receive taxpayers’ money in truck-loads.  The Bank was formerly owned by Sean Quinn, a self-made multi-billionaire, just out of debtor’s jail for bringing the whole contry into ruination.  The one in Belfast is called Stormont, an Anglo-Saxon word meaning ‘placebo’, or deliberately ineffective drug.  It is run by a Secretary of State from Westminster who must pretend to ‘share power’ with Martin and Peter.  Peter is married to the Wicked Witch of the North, who imposes chastity on others while sleeping with under-age boys herself.   Martin and Peter tour the world at our expense, in search of jobs (they are the only people with jobs in the North themselves).

Their respective jurisdictions are defined by the border, an imaginary line on the map to show fuel launderers where to dump their chemical waste and by-products.

Prodesants are in favour of the border, which generates millions of pounds in smuggling for Catholics, who are actually totally opposed to it.

Travel between the two states is complicated because Ireland is the only country in the world with two M1 motorways. The one in the North goes West to avoid the south of Ireland and the one in the South goes north to avoid the high price of drink – and all other commodities in the South!

We have two types of democracy in Ireland. Dublin democracy works by holding a referendum and then allowing the government to judge the result when they don’t like it. If the government thinks the result is wrong, they will hold the referendum again until the people get it right. Twice in recent years the government decided the people’s choice was wrong and ordered a new referendum.  Governments change more frequently than most people change their socks!    Before elections, parties promise the moon and the stars: and deliver hell on earth when elected.  The present Tainaiste told Vincent Brown on TV recently not to believe a word he says before elections:  we all make wild promises we have no intention of keeping, he sniggered.  This system is called democracy.

Belfast democracy works differently.  It has a parliament with no opposition, so the government is always right. This system generates envy in many world capitals, especially in Dublin.

Ireland has three economies – northern, southern and black. Only the black economy is actually in the black. The other two are in the red.  Talking of Black … in the North, Blackmen are Orange: no blacks allowed to join the Black Brethern!

All versions of the IRA claim to be the real IRA but only one of them is the real IRA.  It’s so real, it feels it no longer needs to add that sobriquet.  The North’s biggest industry is the production of IRAs.  Consequently, we now have the Provisional, 32 county, Continuity and Real IRA. The IRA is by far the most popular among young graffiti writers simply because it is the easiest to spell.

Daniel’s Seat

Green or not … ?

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Checking out at the supermarket, the young cashier suggested to the older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.

The woman apologised and explained, “We didn’t have this green thing back in my earlier days.”

The young blade responded, “That’s our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations.”

She was right – our generation didn’t have the green thing in its day.

Back then, we returned milk bottles, lemonade bottles and beer bottles to the shop. The shop sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilised and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.

But we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags that we reused for numerous things, most memorable besides household garbage bags was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our schoolbooks. This was to ensure that public property (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribblings. Then we were able to personalise our books on the brown paper covers: ready for recycling to new users the following year.

But too bad we didn’t do the green thing back then.

We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two hundred yards.

But she was right. We didn’t have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby’s nappies because we didn’t have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts — wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing.

But that young lady is right; we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house, if we were fortunate – not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of a wall. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn’t have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded-up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.  Back then, we didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity.

But she’s right; we didn’t have the green thing back then.

We drank from a hand-operated water-fountain (with a metal cup attached by chain) when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull.

But we didn’t have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn’t need a computerised gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest burger joint.

But isn’t it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn’t have the green thing back then?

Perhaps the young folk should target their own generation – or their parents’ – for selfishness.

But definitely NOT their grand-parents’ generation.

[The song below, by the Emigrants, was written in 1860 by Steven Foster].