With their tricolour raised them rebels we praised
Boys weren’t we the quare fools
Bankers playin poker Ireland was up for grabs
The pinstriped gobshites lost it all n left me payin the tab
“Boys o boys Aggie eh”, said Johnny. It’s 2016 n me 105th birthday is the same day as the 1916 risin. A can still hear em shoutin from the JP0 Aggie. ‘Free State’ ‘Sovereign Irish Government’. The English said us Paddies was too thick te govern ourselves Aggie. Too many cute hoors the King of England said. Be Jeysus maybe he was right too n all Aggie. Look at us now, 100 years later n we still have ney feckin government eh”.
“Aye you’re right Johnny, it’s a free state”, said Aggie.
“Even when we can manage te elect somethin sure em pinstripe gobshites spend most o the time givin evidence in corruption or bankin tribunals. Boys o boys Aggie shockin eh! Between the Easter summer and Christmas holidays sure they’re only part timers at the best o times. Thanks be te Jeysus for em EEU boys sure we’d be in an awful feckin state without em Aggie”.
“Aye boys o dear Johnny it’s an awful state”, said Aggie.
“We haven’t much te look forward te now Aggie. The young folk do’n want us. We’re only in their feckin way. Two old age orphans on death row but they gave us a room weh a view te see us off so we might as well look around us here from the hills of Donegal. Look over yonder Aggie at the Antrim hills. Sure we’re an Island o world champions. That’s where Rory Mc Elroy, top world class golfer comes from n Anthony Mc Coy, the greatest jump jockey in history comes from the same place. Look at Derry/L Aggie, Nobel Prize winners all over the place. John Hume and Seamus Heaney. The Hume boy he made the peace the other boy made the poems. Look at Donegal Aggie, that scientist boy from Remelton what’s name, a Nobel medallist too n all. That young singin boy Daniel O Donnell Aggie, the king of hearts they call that boy the world over, sold more records than that Elvis lad so e did, aye boy”.
“King of hearts, aye well right, whatever ye think yerself Johnny”, said Aggie.
“Aye n look at that young ex president Mary Robinson lass, she’s high commissioner o international human rights or wrongs or somethin. N them two youngfella’s Sir Bob n Sir Bono. Sure they reckon they done more for human justice than the Jeysus lad Pope n all the feckin Saints in heaven put together Aggie”.
“Aye we do alright weh half a government Johnny”, said Aggie.
“Och houl yer tongue woman sure that’s only half the Irish success story that never makes it inte the Irish media for fear Irish people might wake up. Government or no government, we’re world leaders, number 1 country. Master race. We do’n follow world trends we set new ones. Look abroad Aggie. Our youngsters r champions in every international arena o human endeavour anywhere, sports – music – literature – riverdancin- arts – science, you name it Aggie we won it with a part time government. All that Irish genius, isn’t it odd that we’ve no political talent Aggie. Hollywood Aggie, Irish film stars galore. Boys o boys wouldn’t that wee Cormac Mc Greggor lad make ye proud but A don’t think man should punch above e’s weight. Aggie we’re a nation o winners.
“Aye that’s right Johnny, master race, world leaders. Maybe we’ve outgrown old fashioned 2 party male government systems. Put in a good team leader manageress n pay er a results based salary on an annual contract basis weh plenty o term n conditions of employment. Ye know like one o them smart Irish executive women runnin them big foreign global corporations, far bigger than the Irish government. Stop vitin for political celebrities, pinstriped gobhistes as you call them Johnny”, said Aggie.
“Aye but Jayus Aggie a move like that would take another feckin rebellion”, said Johnny.
“Aye well, maybe now’s a good time Johnny, ney opposition, ney elected government te overthrow. Sure isn’t that young jumped up Jerry Adams rascal always chattin in the news about a 2016 risin n the whole country’s embarrassed weh a100 years o political failure”, said Aggie.
“Be Christ Aggie me owld darlin ye might be right. A country’s like a big 5 star hotel weh different livin levels for different guests weh different needs. One manageress eh n she wouldn’t be elected, she would be selected on her qualifications for the job n she wouldn’t owe no third party wheelin dealin cute hoors for bankrollin er election campaign nether. She would be an independent sort o an independent. Aye ye’re a goodin Aggie. We could call yer new executive doll Mother Ireland for a change. The different senior civil service heads could report te her n she could use that new iterweb machine te collect public opinion. Sure everybody’s up on the line nowadays Aggie.
“Aye stop votin for more o the same n call er Mother Ireland for a change Johnny”, said Aggie.
“The class is drippin off us Irish but when it comes te governin ourselves we‘re not even at the feckin races. Aye n that Edna Kennedy boy chargin for water n the whole country feckin flooded when e should be pluggin the leaks. That boy s as useful as tits on a boar Aggie”.
“Aye tits on a boar Johnny, good for nohin n they‘re still votin for him”, said Aggie.
“Imagine if we had our own wee full time manageress workin from Donegal here every day, sure we’d be a fecken superhuman race o people altogether.100 years n no government eh, boys o boys Aggie, shokin. If your plan didn’t work A think it’s time we apologised te em nice English folk for the 1916 risin n move the Dail back te Westminster. What de’ye reckon Aggie ?”.
“Aye it’s a sorry state, relax Johnny n ye’ll live longer”, says Aggie as she wakes up alone again from a dream in her Donegal nursing home. Johnny died 20 years ago. Her family recently divorced grounds of incontinency so she keeps her husband’s memory alive for company. Aggie was never unfaithful or unkind to any of her 7 children in her life, changed their nappies but they won’t change hers. She never got over the separation or understood it. Her heart is broke. She misses her family more than Johnny. He visits her every night. She says love is for better and for worse and she got the worse.
“It’s an awful shame to get old. Someone should put an age limit on life. When love and health goes so does dignity and life’s a dying game. Who could love an old crock like me? I’ll never love again – or be loved – or hope”, Aggie tells Johnny in her teary old dreams.
“Ah dry yr’re eyes woman, sure don’t A love ye still, warts n wrinkles n nappies n all”, Aggie imagines.
She still has family visiting rights. An hour or two on Sundays if they remember and they always bring her flowers on Mother’s Day. Johnny was a manual worker in the Co. Council. Part of his job was removing public shithouse graffiti, most of which he wrote himself. The rest of it rubbed off on him and he used to take his work home.
“If you write enough shit on the wall some of it will stick”, he used to tell Aggie.
“Give Ireland back to the British, yous Irish don’t fucking deserve it”, Johnny was fond of writing to himself on the shithouse wall.