Written by TM_Dealer
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Topics: Ireland, Radio, Irish

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

The Irish and British have been at each other's throats for centuries, in a way that makes the rap grudge between Kanye West and LL Cool J look like as pointless and infantile as a mere peevish World of Warcraft endless circle-jerk of meaningless controversy.

Yet, for the first time in history (and probably the only time in history), the police forces of Ireland, both North and South, have worked together to smash the most hideous plot in the history of the Island of Ireland since the British Army and an enraged lover plotted to cut off the "prime" of Michael Collins with a carving knife. And they're actually being pretty open about it

One source with somewhat unconcealed political leanings™ told me, "Well, makes a change, doesn't it? Not like the Brit Occupation forces™ or the West Brit Gardai™ to spill all, is it now?"

Hmph… now, don't get political; after centuries and decades of pointless infighting, the last thing people in Ireland need is more political controversy…

Yes… there is actually an explanation for the ever-calm and smoothly genial demeanour of Radiostar Country. It's not that they've been getting lessons from a pretentious herb-smoking 60s New Age Guru. Nah… the pleasant air of oceanic calmness exuding from the honeyed lips of Radiostar presenters derives from a rather more material source; they are all being drugged up on barbiturates.

A PSNI officer from Belfast told me:

Now, I'm as Free Presbyterian as they come, never touched none of that oul' demon drink. But if there's anything worse than the Divvil's buttermilk, it's them there oul' barbiturates, so it is! I mean, I was shocked, I never heard no man o' God talking about them things. Sure it's such divvilment, even the Lord Almighty didn't want to poison his lips by speakin' of it in His word!

A calm and genial Garda officer from Cork had a different manner of speaking of it:

Ah, now, sure don't worry about it, now… This, this'll all be sorted. It'll… all be sorted, don't you be worrying now… Ye know, this was quite exciting… there's not much crime around our parts, I believe… this was something even bigger than when there were two whole cows trapped in a cattle grid… aye, now I thought I'd seen it all… don't worry… Don't worry now, everyone's calm, and we'll all be fine, now.

A key figure at Radiostar was defensive about the allegations:

This is a deliberate distortion, and NOT representative of our station! I mean, we have these wonderful two fictional advert people called John and Mary, who are very lively figures; not drugged up at all!

Like, I've just written a new version of one of our classic adverts; I'm going to pitch it to the company in question when I get around to it, but there's no harm in you listening to it, as long as you don't leak it onto the internet or something.

By the way, our listeners are famed for their tendency to always demand something fresh, innovative and exciting, that they've never heard before… so this time around, we've spiced things up with some political controversy, sexual politics, and even a few pseudo-intellectual titbits for those who have a bit of pointless book-learning.

This artistic masterpiece runs as follows:

Well, John, you're looking well, aren't you now?

Boys-a-dear, Murry oul' girl! I've just been to them there oul' Hurruld Aberham Motors, so I have! Got a quare good deal, now!

Oh, John, I haven't heard about Harold Abraham Motors. Please do tell me and all those listeners out there about this. It sounds exciting, now, John. I just can't contain myself. Please do tell me, or I swear I won't sleep for a week; that's God's honest truth, John.

"Now, me an' the oul' wife there, we wurz out to them Hurruld Aberham Motors, and we got a right 'n' good oul' Skoda thur, so we did!"

Ach now, John! Sure I don't believe you! You're having me on, now!

Now, Murry, I swear to ye boys, it's God's honest truth! Sure your oul' John wouldn't lie to ye now, would he, Murry?

Oh, John, that sounds absolutely FANTASTIC. I never once thought this could ever happen to me; not in a million years. Would you imagine that, now… we can all just go to Harold Abraham Motors whenever we want, and get a nice bargain or two. Sure isn't that grand, now!

I tell ye girl, it's a quare place that now, so it is!

Now, John. Don't you be calling me a girl, now. You are attempting to impose an essentialist gender narrative, coercively imposing semantic closure on the Lacanian field of discourse.

A-wah-wah-wah? Sorry, didn't catch ye there at all, now.

I mean, you are constructing a hegemonic monolithic discourse that is affirming commonly-regulated disciplinary consensus norms.

I'm awful sorry Murry, now. I couldn't make no head nor tail of that, so I couldn't.

Ach, John, now, I'm only havin' ye on. Sure John, I can't stand all those pretentious pseudo-intellectuals who go across the water and get the wrong education and start coming out with all this nonsensical pseudo-intellectual jargon.

You're not wrong there, so you're not! Sure me and the wife, us both agrees the last thing our people need is people goin' on and on about transgressive performativity, incommensurable Wittgensteinian language games and post-nomadic decentred subjectivity. That thur fool nonsense is just tara, so it is!

Yes.. but how much, John? That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? Our listeners are just busting to hear it, they need to know, don't delay them when they are so desperate. I think they will end up killing themselves or just keeling over from the sheer weight of suspense, if you don't let them out of their misery right now.

A few thousand pounds sterling or so, Murry!

Now, John, did you just say a few thousand POUNDS STERLING? Don't you be getting political now, or constructing a centrist, neo-imperialist, state-hegemonist discursive fiction.

Anyway, listen up now boys, Harold Abraham Motors, them there boys is no goat's toe, so they're not! They can do it, now!

I wasn't impressed. I told the Radiostar person in question:

I'm a PhD candidate in a humanities topic, and I couldn't understand half of the funny faux-academic words in that advert. Shouldn't you be aiming for something most people can understand?

Apparently not…

Just because YOU don't understand, doesn't mean OUR LISTENERS can't. You've gone to England, and now you really think you're something, don't you? Well, you've had all your common sense educated out of you. The more fool you…

And anyway, I always tell them, if you don't like it, you can always put an advert on the BBC. I had a man from the Falls road a few years ago who caused an awful scene when I told him that. No idea why.

Hmmm… me neither.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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