The REAL Begrudgers.

Pot... Kettle... Black... By John Doyle. I had to scratch my vernaculars in amazement. FOUR times?! No, it can't be! I was standing outside Humanity House as Wednesday afternoon let rip with a seasonal temper tantrum, and in the brisk retreat from John Paul II Library, I had just encountered the Irish chestnut "Begrudger", on the tail-end of four different conversations. What is it about this, ahem, "word", that draws both off the cuff, and highbrow conversation to it, like bluebottles air raiding a fresh heap of heifer dung? Why, like Harry Callaghan reaching for his penis extension shooter at the most miniscule of provocation, must the Irish resort to this linguistic atrocity at tense moments leading to philosophical enlightenment, or let's not kid ourselves, anytime some poor soul has the sheer audacity to take umbrage with our festering ooze of false idols. "I don't like Paddy Casey, "Agghh, yer only a begrudgerrrrrr....." Now repeat ad infinitum and watch your dignity spin away to eternal gloom with the murky dishwater. Land of poets and scholars my hole. Would these codgers and street corner prophets be more content if we lived in a Maoist police state, where any form of differing opinions were met with a sobering and probably terminal dose of gulag? The bottom line, and bear with me on this one, is that surely the people who accuse others of begrudgery, are themselves, the glaring culprits, as they simply do not have the psychological capacity to deal with those of us more enlightened than their own knee-jerk, nation humiliating "Stan The Man" isms, so they assume everyone else should automatically put their opinions in hock and function at the same socio-cultural pond life level as themselves? I put it to you, that the next time you are in conversation with someone who rattles off the "B Word" with the ease of John Delaney slithering through the long grass of another F.A.I. press conference, grab the nearest convenient stinking wet fish, (Or if unavailable, Ed Joyce's weapon of choice should be sufficient), and repeatedly slap them across both cheeks, until the rosy red tell tale signs suggest a more eloquent lingo glowing on the horizon. The Brits, god bless 'em, gave us the notorious Chuckle Brothers, the Yanks in a devastating act of generosity, presented us with Bill Cosby, and the Aussies, not to be excluded from the party, concocted the mind challenging witchery of Home And Away, so we, not to be outdone in our inherent Celtic wisdom, conjured up the word, B... No it's not going to be said. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!