Ah yes! The sepulchral force of the Catholic church still wields its emaciated stranglehold on the people of Ireland on this day, “Good Friday.” What is good about it, say you? Should we sheath ourselves in ecumenical garb and bellow loaded imprecations on the side of a cliff face and lament the absence of our father and pine for the tender embrace of our mother as the winds and spumes cascade through the miserable valleys of Tippereary? Yes indeed, and DO NOT TOUCH A DROP OF LIQUOR for your soul will writhe in hell for all eternity if you do you miserable lunatic! But I can at midnight, is that correct? That is correct, provided you have divested yourself of all spiritual discolour, dolour, rancour, violence and purged yourself of all the wild forces that inhabit your breast year round for today is a barren feast of nothingness, a day for being virtuous and saintly and holy and forceful. I see, so can I even eat a bread and butter sandwich? Absolutely not you ungrateful heathen! Would you think the Lord our God, YOUR SAVIOUR, nipped into O’Brien’s for a B.L.T before being split apart by whips and his palms crushed against wood with nails for the transient bite of some ballymaloe relish?? Of course not you loathsome cretin!
And so it must be. The antiquated grasp of the Church decrees that all hedonistic pleasure cease for twenty-four hours in the name of dogma. And do you think that puts a stopper in revelry? Bah! Of course it does not. The opposite effect occurs where people merely stock the fridges full with exotic liquers and intoxicating broths devised and designed to arouse them into a state of sweet iconoclastic reverie all to spite this bogus embargo. You’ve lost the run of yourselves,may the Lord have mercy on your souls. I’m off to intone the rosary on the roof of St.Audoen’s, and you will join me if you know what’s bloody good for you!