The age of selfishness

Gaurdian UK ^ | October 5 | Martin Jacques

[Greeklawyer]

The way the leftis write and with political correctness now run amuck, it will be written as follows:

communism good, capitalism bad.

[Happygal]

Just checked MadIvan's page hes already married.

How disappointing, even after he got around this sassy Irish Lass to post Winston Churchill quotes.*LOL*.. You do know my forefathers are turning in their graves? *LOL*

[weikel]

Freedom is slavery
Sanity is statistical

[weikel]

Well actually I just remembered the Irish kids I hung with on Cape Cod for a weekend said that marriages are generally arranged( not that I see that as bad mind you arranged marriages tend to be more successful its a fact).

[Happygal]

Well actually I just remembered the Irish kids I hung with on Cape Cod for a weekend said that marriages are generally arranged

ROFLMAO!!! If ONLY that was the truth. My late mother (God rest her beautiful soul) would have married off my sorry sassy Irish butt by the time I was 17 just so I would stop her auburn hair from greying! *L*

But alas, (me being picky, and all!) remain 30, single and childless. In fact, I'm a kind of an enigma in this day and age! *L*

[weikel]

They didn't sound like they were pulling my leg on this they didn't laugh afterwords or anything(they were pretty drunk and most of their discourse involved *very* dirty jokes so i think it would have been obvious if they were pulling my leg on this).

[Happygal]

The dirty jokes sound right.
But arranged marriages don't take place in good old Catholic Ireland.

I promise you.
Take my word for it.

[schmelvin]

Just checked MadIvan's page hes already married.

Weikel, MadIvan's not married. His page requires some *ahem* "reading between the lines". :-)

Hmmm... Let's see... We've got an Irishwoman quoting Winston Churchill, an Englishman reciting Gaelic poetry, (and lots of ancestors on both sides rolling in their graves. Hehehe.) Wonders never cease; that can only be a good thing.

[Happygal]

and lots of ancestors on both sides rolling in their graves. Hehehe

Those ancestors would make good ground rotavators if only we could harness them all together, eh? ;-)

[schmelvin]

LOL! My and my hubby's forefathers are rototilling my garden as we speak. ;-)

[MadIvan]

Ah, mo mhile gra, my sole sadness is that he decided to come back. And perhaps that he learned nothing about the value of capitalism from being in Hong Kong.

Contrary to popular belief, Britain is not dead. New Labour is not the end of us, no more than the "New Democrats" are the end of America. What has not happened yet is that the opposition to New Labour rule has not united and found its stride. When it does, things will turn. But not in the direction Mr. Jacques wants - for the far left, which he represents, died when Blair buried Old Labour.

Love, Ivan

[MadIvan]

My late mother (God rest her beautiful soul) would have married off my sorry sassy Irish butt by the time I was 17 just so I would stop her auburn hair from greying! *L

Ah, but mo mhile gra, how can be sure she's not attempting to marry you off from beyond now? ;)

In any event, it should be clear to whom I refer to in my profile. Whom it requires a tactical nuclear weapon to separate me from. I can get away with saying this now because I've just returned from my sister's birthday dinner and 5 bottles of wine were consumed between 4 people. ;)

And so to mo mhile gra, I recite in both Gaelic and English, the words of Peadar Ó Doirnín:

A phlúr na maighdean is úire gné thug clú le scéimh ón Ádhamhchlainn, A chúl na bpéarlaí, a rún na héigse, dhúblíos féile 's fáilte, a ghnúis mar ghréin i dtús gach lae ghil mhúcha léan léan le gáire, 's é mo chumhaidh gan mé 's tú, a shiúr, linn féin sa dún sin Chéin mhic Cáinte.	Most beautiful of maidens with the fairest complexion, who has surpassed all others in beauty, O girl with the pearly-headed hair, beloved of poets, who increases generosity and welcome, your face, like the sun at the beginning of a bright day, quenches sorrow with a laugh, alas my girl that we are not alone together in the fort of Cian Mac Cáinte.
Táim brúite i bpéin, gan suan gan néal, de do chumhaidhse, a ghéag is áille, 's gur tú mo roghain i gcúighibh Éireann, cúis nach séanaim ás de; dá siúlfá a réalt gan smúid, liom féin ba súgach saor ár sláinte— gheobhair plúr is méad is cnuasach craobh sa dún sin Chéin mhic Cáinte.	I am in pain and unable to sleep because I am pining for you, most beautiful one, and you are my choice from all over Ireland, I do not deny it at all; O faultless star, if you would only walk away with me, fair and free would our state be — you'll have the best and plenty and fruit in the fort of Cian Mac Cáinte.
Cluinfir uaill na ngadhar ar luas i ndéidh Bhriain luaimnigh bearnaigh mhásaigh is fuaim guth béilbhinn cuach is smaolach go suairc ar ghéaga in altaibh; i bhfuarlinn tséimh chífir slua-bhuíon éisc ag ruagadh a chéile ar snámh ann, 's an cuan go léir dhuit uait igcéin ó nua-chnoc Chéin mhic Cáinte.	You'll hear the dogs bark as they follow the strong running hare, and the sweet-voiced singing of cuckoo and thrush merrily on branches in the glens; in a smooth cold lake you'd see a host of fish as they chase each other in swimming and the sea in front of you, far away from the fresh hill of Cian Mac Cáinte.
A rún mo chléibh, nach mar súd ab fhearr dhuit tús do shaoil a chaitheamh liom?— 's ní i gclúid faoi léan ag túirscín bréan i gcionn túirne 's péire cardaí; gheobar ciúl na dtéad le lúth na méar do do dhúscadh 's dréachta grá fós — níl dún faoin ngréin chomh súgach aerach le hÚrchnoc Chéin mhic Cáinte.	O my sweetheart, would you not like To spend the beginning of your life with me like that? — and not pine in a hovel with a stinking boor, spinning and carding wool. You'll have harp-music played with swift fingers to wake you and love songs — there is no fort as happy and full of fun as the fresh hill of Cian Mac Cáinte.
A shuaircbhean tséimh na gcuachfholt péarlach, gluais liom féin ar ball beag, tráth is buailte cléir is tuataí i néal 'na suan faoi éadaí bána; ó thuaidh go mbéam i bhfad uathu araon teacht nua-chruth gréine amárach, gan ghuais le chéile in uaigneas aerach san uaimh sin Chéin mhic Cáinte.	Gentle happy woman of the curling, pearly hair, come with me soon, while clergy and people are fast asleep under white bedclothes; let's be off to the north away from them all when the sun's new form rises tomorrow; we'll be far from danger in happy solitude in the hollow of Cian Mac Cáinte.

Regards, Ivan

[Happygal]

for the far left, which he represents, died when Blair buried Old Labour.

Do you really think so Ivan?
This may sound really peculiar, but sometimes there is something to be said for far leftist organisations being around as opposed to the insidious left organisations who clutter up the middle ground, muddying the waters for 'right' thinkers (take Ireland as an example). They have a left agenda, but temper it a few progressive capitalist programmes. They offer the regular ordinary 'thinking' Joe Soap (who could be swayed) to vote for them because they offer a choice (on paper, not in practice) that is appealing in it's 'common sense' without a completely shrill 21st century rampant right social ethic.

If they opposition was straight talking and showed their true colours as socialist leftists, in this day and age NONE of them would ever get a whiff of power again.

[MadIvan]

Though having said all this, I suspect now I'll be told, "Oh go lie down ye drunken eejit". ;)

Regards, Ivan

[Hemlock]

How the hell can anyone read this blowhard? Maybe I'm too American, but good God, get to the friggin' point.

[MadIvan]

I think, mo mhile gra, the far left is dead in terms of out and out communism and socialism. No one is talking about nationalising the car industry anymore, for example.

Instead what the left is trying to achieve is a more modest goal - regulating us to death. Not communism, but bureaucratism. Both of us, being in the EU, see it every day in terms of being told what curvature our bananas can be, for example. And more seriously, in agricultural, work and safety regulations and so on.

It is a step backward so far as the out and out leftists are concerned. Like Jacques, they wouldn't be happy until they put up the gulag again.

Love, Ivan

[Happygal]

I see you left out the last verse? *L* And the Irish womans response and rebuttal to the gentrified British landowner Mac Cáinte! *LOL*

Sorry!!! Couldn't resist. Too much Celtic sass...and drinking my third glass of wine here too! *LOL*

Jimrob will be in here in a minute to tell us to either...'Take a room or a boxing ring' *ROFL*

[MadIvan]

I'm British and I feel the same way. Remember this is the Guardian, the paper of the chattering classes. The chattering classes are so named because if they shut up for five minutes they'd realise what crap they're spouting.

Regards, Ivan

[Happygal]

Well perhaps we as conservatives should be lamenting in part the death of the rampant left. It made it MUCH easier to identify thine enemy. (Of course for me as an Irish woman, Britain will always be the enemy...but I'm mellowing since I went over the 30 mark! *LOL*) *ROFL*

[MadIvan]

Well, mo mhile gra, perhaps I should be more optimistic and quote this one from Seán Ó Neachtain:

Rachainn fón choill leat a mhaighdean na n-órfholt, ag féachain ar éanlaith 's ag éisteacht a gceolghob, Beidh fidil at caoinche, beidh píop ag an smólach, londubh ag cur cana le cláirsigh go ceolmhar.	I would go to the wood with you, O golden-headed maiden, looking at the birds and listening to the music of their mouths. The nightingale will have a fiddle, the thrush will have a flute and the blackbird will be chanting melodiously accompanied by a harp.
Beidh liú ag an dreolán is órgán ag céirseach, an fhuiseog 's an meantán 's a dtiompán go gleasta, gealbhan sa tom glas 's a thrumpa ina bhéal-san, ag bualadh puirt damhsa ré ansacht a chléibh duit.	The wren will have a lute and the hen-blackbird an organ the lark and the titmouse will have their drums ready, a sparrow in the green bush will have his trumpet [trump? =Jew's harp] in his mouth, playing dance music because he loves you so much.
Beidh cuilm agus fearáin ag crón ré chéile, an truideog 's an sacán go cóngarach ag léimnigh, cuach bheag na craoibhe go silleadh dod'fhéachain, gearrghuirt is traona de shíor frat, a théagair. …	Pigeons and doves will be cooing together, the starling and the fieldfare will be hopping about close by, the little cuckoo on the branch will be seeking to look at you, and the corncrake will be always with you, my love. …
Beidh an macalla inár n-aice-ne ag gáirí, beidh na mná sí is braoine ar a gcláirsigh, beidh an uile ní frat dar mian leat, a chathaigh, godeo na díle ní scaoilfe mo pháirt leat.	The echo will be laughing beside us, the women from the fairy mounds and forts will play on harps; all you wish will be there beside you, my temptress, and till the end of time my love for you will never desert you.
Beidh dealramh na gréine ag sméideadh go drithleach orainne féachaint trí ghéagaibh na coille, drúilíní ag súgradh, ba chiúl leat an t-uisce, éisc agus dobhráin ag comhspairn go cliste.	The sunlight will pour down on us through the branches of the wood, glittering droplets will play, the water will be your music while the otters and fish cleverly wrestle together.
(An Freagra)	(The reply)
Rachaidh mé féin leat gan éaradh go súgach, ag féachain 's ag éisteacht na n-éan sin ag súgradh, céad fearr liom féin sin ná féasta na cúirte; a ailleáin, is a théagair súd mé leat gan diúltadh.	I'll go with you merrily without refusing, looking and listening to the birds at play. I prefer that a hundred times to feasting at court; my pet, and my beloved, I come with you without resistance.

There. That's better. ;)

Love, Ivan