Luckier

3rd December, 2016

 Gus,

A president asked that all submissions to him be written on one side of an A4 page. Reductio ad absurdum? However, here goes.

Extensive opinion polling has revealed that people lie when asked their opinion by opinion pollsters. What else is new?

According to surveys, vox pops, by my brother George, you and others would like to be luckier. Be careful what you wish for. There are two kinds of luck. If it wasn’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck at all sang a blues singer. Should that be our national anthem, translated from the English, of course, as our current come-all-yeh?

Is the improbable probable? Probably. George gave you a book on that subject which he said has made him luckier. One man’s meat is another man’s poison. One man’s meat is another man’s poisson (French).   George asked me to write you a letter to put in your letterbox in Wicklow today. This is it. I said I would put a poem in it.

Doctor

A doctor injected the Earth in his back garden.

He said, if that hurt I beg your pardon.

I cannot cure cancer, mass starvation and unemployment.

I took up medicine for my enjoyment.

Physician heal thyself, Shakespeare said.

He didn’t cure himself, he’s dead.

Psychosomatic illnesses are imaginary, therefore curable.

The world is more or less tolerably endurable.

I could say more, but won’t.

If you are taking tablets, don’t.

         George should be a spokesman for an organisation or, as we say in these enlightened days, spokesperson. He never stops talking. As our mother said, he always means well. He would help an old lady across the road if she didn’t want to go.

Did you get my present? I will allow George to speak for himself, I can’t stop him. What more is there to say?

John Behan, sculptor, said if you go into a pub in Ireland you say these people are a ball of fire, they’ll really go places. Ten years later they’re still in the pub talking about it. Enough banter,

Tich Ennis

 

 

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