I’ll watch it tomorrow, don’t back the gee gees, and don’t want any thoughts implanted to disturb a good nights sleep:lol:
I didn’t know they were still burning supposed witches up to 1746, I thought that all finished around the end of the 1600’s.:shock:
I remember me granny and some of her spooky cronies whispering old stories and the name “Darkey Kelly” once came up when I was a lad, when I asked who she was I was told sharply “Nobody” and then whisked off to bed.
I eventually found out for meself, here’s the gist of it in a small nutshell.
“Accused of witchcraft and satanist rituals, a brothel owner, Darkey Kelly was partially hanged and burnt at the stake, on Baggot Street in Dublin’s city centre.
For generations, Darkey Kelly was known in Dublin’s folk memory as the woman who was burned at the stake for witchcraft after she accused the Sheriff of Dublin, Luttrell, of fathering her baby. However, research has revealed that she could have been Ireland’s first serial killer and the story of witchcraft is completely false. Darkey Kelly was executed for the murder of at least five men. Their bodies were found in a brothel she owned, in Dublin. It had been thought that she was executed for witchcraft, in 1746, but research has shown that she was executed in public, on January 7, 1761. She was partially hanged and then publicly burnt alive on Baggot Street, in Dublin city centre” Source, Irish Central.
In 1742 Handel’s Messiah was first performed in Fishamble Street Dublin, the same very short street Darkey Kelly had her brothel, probably with five dead brothel customers lying underneath the cellar below the music hall. hallelujah!!!
In 1947 I was kidnapped by a mentally disturbed woman who had lost a child at childbirth, I was just under two years old and was missing for two days (true), I was found bawling me head off in a hallway by a passer by, much to my poor mother’s relief, guess where?— Fishamble Street!
There’s a fine bar there now called Darkey Kelly’s with plenty of traditional music, I’ve yet to visit it, but I will if I survive and things come right again.
Good job people are much nicer (and more Cosmopolitan) nowadays.
Yes indeed they are Spitty, thank God.
Poor old Darkey was the victim of a political cover up after giving birth to the Sheriff of Dublins child, he was a regular at her brothel, and she had the audacity to ask for financial support, just shows you it doesn’t matter if your right or wrong, the system always wins, must not embarrass the dignitaries of the day.
There was I sitting watching the racing on TV today, enjoying a cold can of draught Guinness and smoking a small cigar, too good to last I thought.
How true that was, the missus had taken the petrol mower out of the shed to cut the grass.
Now before you all start tut-tutting thinking shame on him for letting his poor wife cut the grass, the simple fact is that she won’t let me near HER lawn mower, and I don’t have to be told twice to avoid things I know nothing about.
Anyway after a few minutes she comes in and says the mower won’t start, I don’t know why she’s telling me this, I might as well be looking for an ink spot in a barrel of tar at midnight as to having any knowledge on how the combustable engine works, I’m completely in the dark.
She continued pulling the starting string on the thing. all the while becoming more frustrated and I had to tell her to stop, fearing the string would break or she would have a heart attack. “Get the model number and look up Briggs & Stratton petrol mowers on google” says I, and she did, that was a mistake on my part for next came the barrage of questions “‘What’s an oil filter Jem?” was the first one, oh God here we go!
In the end and for my own sanity I was compelled to look the whole process up meself, after reading the trouble shooting part, I took out the filter (a yellow spongy thing) which was manky dirty, washed and dried it in the sun, put it back in again, drained and changed the oil which she had never drained out since she got the machine, she just kept topping it up, cleaned the spark plug, and then told her to try it again, bingo!, it spluttered into life and away she went merrily ploughing through the side garden.
When all this was finished I went back inside but the racing was over and me beer was flat, oh the things we do for peace.
There was yet another war film on Sony Action today, it was called “Das Boot’ all about a German submarine, what a strange title for a war film, one would think it was all about chastising children, I know that whenever I got Da’s boot it was an event to remember with pain, and it was a long time before I misbehaved again.;-)
In my early manhood years I often drank in a very old pub called “Ye olde Boot Inn”, steeped in history it was situated on one of the back roads behind Dublin Airport, a scruffy old spit and sawdust place but they served a great pint of Guinness, if you were a lover of a great pint and were prepared to put up with the discomfort this was the place to be.
I remember being there one Saturday night with a few mates, no ash trays with the result the cigarette ash was all over the table and floor, and when I called over to the barman for an ash tray he smiled and shouted back “Your sitting in it Sonny”
My Son was telling me that they’re making a new fantasy version of Titanic, well based on the Titanic story up to the time of the iceberg hitting it, and this time the ship is called “The Colossal” and it doesn’t sink, when the ship is holed a repair job is hastily made but it’s steering is out of control and the giant liner drifts southwest until it is grounded on an island inhabited by cannibals, riveting stuff lasting almost three hours I believe. I think I would enjoy a film like that, at least you wouldn’t know the end before the film started.
Speaking of the Sea, I love this old song.
Jem, where I lived there were a few Spit and sawdust boozers, and without doubt, they served a mean Pint, but, in general, they were devoid of “Birds” so were tolerated for the sake of quality supping till 9.00pm, then ditched, for the sake of Bird Hotspots. You can predickt where a real ale night is going to end, you never know where a Hotspot will take you.
Sorry Scribblers where ever you are now, got side tracked and had to comment elsewhere, this happens periodically, this may fall on deaf ears, but that is OK, compared to what is happening to the UK.
There were many public bars in Dublin that didn’t allow in any Birds, Chicks, or Hens of any description up until the late seventies, the publicans feared they would be subjected to fowl language.
They were allowed into the lounges alright but the bars were strictly for men only, the commonest excuse publicans used was they had no toilet facilities for women, but it was without a doubt open discrimination.
Another thing was they would never serve a woman a pint, it had to be half a pint. Thankfully all that is gone now.
Having watched on youtube last night the 1939 film of the “Four Just Men” from the book by Edgar Wallace I was prompted to write a ditty about our old local bin men “what moves away our dust”, they were most obliging and helpful to the old folks around my area, sadly they were all replaced by a new private company and a strictly ‘by the book’ crew.
Back then the bin crews were a cheerful lot, whistling and singing as they went about their unpleasant work, they would take away anything for you, this was very much appreciated by the locals and they would slip them a few quid for doing so, then come Christmas time everyone I knew gave them an envelope with a few bob to be shared amongst the lads, I knew some of these lads personally and I believe the total amount received was quite substantial, but they deserved every penny of it. Thank you all lads.
Incidentally the new binmen receive nothing by way of tips, they are a sour faced unpopular lot and not a bit friendly or helpful.
“The Four Dust Men”
They came over the bridge and down our street
A nicer shower of lads you’d never meet
Four in all, one was the driver, the others were lifters
A credit to the council were these rubbish shifters.
There was never a bad word of their work to be said
Why they even managed to crush Mrs Ryan’s old iron bed
She left it in the garden cos it wouldn’t fit in the bin
And It took the three of them to squash the thing in.
Old Mr. Watson didn’t get on with his wife
And one night in a temper he snuffed out her life
The lads all knew she was a nagging old hag
“Mum’s the word old man, just put her in a plastic bag”
Yes there was nothing these men wouldn’t do for you
Sent down from heaven were this wonderful crew
We’ll never see the likes of them again
And we all thanked God, for the four dust men.
Here’s a rare bit of old live TV featuring the king of skiffle himself, not many skifflers left now, can’t get the old washboards any more since washing machines took over.;-)
Equality is great, when it is Graphic.
I was talking to a fella in the bookies today, I used to have the odd drink with him years ago when I worked on the South side of the city, the pub was called “The Laughing Pig”, ironically he never laughs now, he’s an over serious old bugger these days.
Anyway he was on about how everything is about to change with this corona thing, a brand new normal, then he used an expression I never liked, he said “Everyone is going to have to start thinking outside the box”.
Jaysus I hate it when intelligent people say that “Thinking outside the box”, sure everyone is thinking outside the box as it is, when your in the box you cannot think because you are dead, and just as well you can’t think whilst inside the box, for can you imagine the horrific thoughts that would flow through your mind if you were buried alive?:shock:
Give me a non thinking carefree fool any day.
The Fool?
He never worries nor cares about plans
His life is completely his own
He’ll do his own thing and ignore all the bans
He’s happy and not one to moan.
If the sky fell down he’d jump on a cloud
And float high above it all
Smiling at the Sun and shouting out loud
“Sure it’s not me who’s the fool atall”
Fools are so lucky, the trouble is we all can’t be fools, fools are a selected few, most other poor unfortunates have to keep the ball rolling and be upright serious responsible people all through life, what a boring existence!
Love it Jem.
It is inspiring.
I forgot to mention when I was on about our former council dustmen that Phyllis, the wife, used to leave out a 2 litre bottle of chilled water for them during the Summer months, she’d have it in the fridge and take it out to put behind the gate pillar when she heard them coming, a small gesture but it was appreciated by them.
Strange that she met one of them at the shops yesterday, he’s now retired but the first thing he said to her was “Are you still leaving out the water for the new lads?”
BBC had a late film on last night, I hadn’t seen it for a very long time and really enjoyed it all over again, “Young Frankenstein” with Gene Wilder and Marty Feldman, it was directed by Mel Brooks.
I have always admired Wilder’s comic genius, rest his soul, he died in 2016 from Alzheimer’s disease.
It was filmed in nostalgic black and white, a wise decision in my opinion because it includes many scenes ‘copied’ from the original 1931 film “Frankenstein” starring Boris Karloff, but all the ‘copied’ scenes have a lovely comical twist to them, and surprisingly Gene Hackman has the part of the blind old man who tries to befriend the monster with disastrous results.
The script was written by Wilder and Brooks and contained many of those silly little jokes Brooks is known for, for example, Wilder as young Frankenstein is being driven through woods in a horse drawn cart to Frankenstein’s Castle, he hears howling coming from the woods and asks the driver (Feldman) what is it.
The driver answers “A werewolf”
Wilder: “Werewolf?”
Driver: Pointing to the woods and then to the front of him “There wolf, there Castle”
I mean it’s so stupid it’s hilarious.
I couldn’t help laughing out loud when Wilder and his female assistant are in Frankenstein’s laboratory where there are glass cases containing old heads and skulls, when they come to Feldman’s head he bursts into song “I ain’t got nobody…”
Yes a great combination of comic talent Brooks, Wilder and Feldman, alas none of them are still with us, but I for one will never forget the laughs they gave me.
I had to laugh at Russ abbot today, I think he was my mentor.
I saw Russ Abbot in one of the Miss Marple TV stories recently, he played the part of a retired Scotland Yard detective, I thought he made a very good serious actor, maybe we’ll be seeing him playing more such parts as he ages, comics can only stand up for so long you know, then it becomes painful.;-)
When I watch old British films I notice at the beginning some of them show a portrait of a fine lady and state “A Gainsborough Picture”, Gainsborough was indeed a fine artist, but when it comes to art and artists every individual has their own likes and dislikes, and as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
However I have a question about that saying.
Why have beholders only got one eye?, shouldn’t that be “Beauty is in the EYES of the beholder”
Vincent Van Gogh was on the ball when he snapped back at one beholder who said his efforts were crap “Your a fine one to talk” says Vinnie “Sure what would a one-eyed beholder know about beauty or art?”
I have no liking for abstract art, I always feel it’s a chancers game, albeit a very profitable one if your name got around and you only painted a few dozen pictures before you died tragically, and the more tragic your death the more valuable your ‘works’, I reckon if Van Gogh hadn’t cut off his ear and committed suicide at 37 we would never have heard of him, I know he wasn’t an abstract painter, but let’s be honest, all his paintings look they they were painted by school children.
As that famous Russian/American billionaire, film director, and patron of the arts Ivan Nufforlife said “The only skill involved in abstract and modern art is thinking up a title for the thing when it’s done”
He later went on to direct “Paint your Wagon” for United Artists using various artists, he brushed aside the initial bad reviews and canvassed the film himself. 
In the 50’s Ivan visited London and met that weird painter Francis Bacon, they were having a few drinks together and an argument broke out about paint colours, Ivan called Bacon (who was Irish born) a green pig and Bacon called him a red capitalist, Ivan said he couldn’t understand what the pig meant, maybe Bacon was jesting, just squeezing his tube.
Oh God i’d better stop now before I get carried away completely.
There was a program on BBC TV today and it featured a piece about a young man who had a condition known as Auto-brewing syndrome, it seems his body was brewing alcohol unknown to him or anybody else, he would get periods of drunkenness out of the blue without having touched a drop, his wife would never believe him and neither would his friends, terrible state of affairs until he saw a specialist who carried out many tests till he found the cause.
“Auto-brewery syndrome (ABS) (also known as gut fermentation syndrome, endogenous ethanol fermentation or drunkenness disease) is a condition characterized by the fermentation of ingested carbohydrates in the gastrointestinal tract of the body caused by bacteria or fungi. ABS is a rare medical condition in which intoxicating quantities of ethanol are produced through endogenous fermentation within the digestive system. The organisms responsible for ABS include various yeasts and bacteria, including Saccharomyces cerevisiae, S. boulardii, Candida albicans, C. tropicalis, C. krusei, C. glabrata, C. kefyr, C. parapsilosis, Torulopsis glabrata, Klebsiella pneumoniae, and Enterococcus faecium. These organisms use lactic acid fermentation or mixed acid fermentation pathways to produce an ethanol end product. The ethanol generated from these pathways is absorbed in the small intestine, causing an increase in blood alcohol concentrations that produce the effects of intoxication without the consumption of alcohol.
Researchers speculate the underlying causes of ABS are related to prolonged antibiotic use, poor nutrition and/or diets high in carbohydrates, and to pre-existing conditions such as diabetes and genetic variations that result in improper liver enzyme activity.In the latter case, decreased activity of aldehyde dehydrogenase can result in accumulation of ethanol in the gut, leading to fermentation. Any of these conditions, alone or in combination, could cause ABS, and result in dysbiosis of the microbiome.
Claims of endogenous fermentation of this type have been used as a defence against drunk driving charges.” Wiki.
So there it is explained in easy to understand words , next time you see a well oiled fella acting the maggot don’t jump the gun and say he ought to be ashamed of himself, he could be suffering from ABS.
I can honestly say I have never heard of that condition before, can you imagine having your own built in little brewery producing booze and all for free?, you learn something new everyday in these times, I wish the pubs were open, the old lads would get great mileage and craic out of that amazing fact.
I’m in heaven catching up on this thread.
By the way, I never think outside the box, but I have been known to color outside the lines from time to time.
Being the fool and all…
ABS would have saved a fortune in ABV, would not have had to call SOS to the TSB.
Applying finesse to foolism is an art, not appreciated by the Hoi Polloi, who think an Artesian Well is just a Bore Hole.
Thanks for dropping in Surfer.
We are missing some great contributors, but we try to soldier on, a bit of silly diversion can do no harm in these days of uncertainty and fear. ;-)
Talking about bore holes Spitty, I see you noticed that things on the atom crashing scene have gone very quiet, so did I, I was expecting great things to emerge from those experiments, but not a bleep outa them for over two years now, maybe the grants ran out and they sent all the chancers home with big bonuses and a pension, and to cap it all we still don’t know what happened to Higgs Bottom, you’d think they’d have the decency to give out a statement, even it if was only to say “After great expense and intensive research over ten years, we have finally reached the conclusion that Mr. Higgs definitely has a boil on his bottom” Talk about money for old rope.
“But how do you keep your mouth healthy?” What an annoying ad that is on the TV.
When we were kids the short answer to that would be to keep your mouth shut and don’t give any cheek, at least that way you didn’t get a fat lip from your parents and your mouth remained intact and healthy, children should be seen and not heard was all the rage back then.
Come to think of it, that’s probably why my generation can’t stop talking now, sort of making up for all the time we were ’overseen’, but never heard.
If you think I’m bad for repeating old jokes then you’ll be glad you didn’t know a former employer of mine.
He was not one for jokes really, too fond of money, but he had made this one up all by himself and thought it was the funniest thing since a ‘B’ actor became president of the USA.
In the big workshop where all the benches were there was a wood carving hanging about the exit door, it featured St. Joseph the carpenter and the child Jesus at work, Joseph was chiselling away on a piece of wood.
We used to get a lot of American buyers in and he would show them around to see how the stuff was made, good for business, when the tour was over and they came to the exit he would point to the carving above the door, and in his false American accent say.
“Hey you guys, see that Joseph fella? well I’m gonna fire him, he’s been on that same bit of wood for the past ten years”
Then he’d let out his loud donkey he-haw laugh, which is the same in any accent.
Christ i must have heard that joke about 100 times.