Faith, avic, I could hurt you more than that. Take drinking. It is lawful for a group of citizens to enter a tavern and order drinks. But according as they swallow their golden thimblefuls, they deem it desirable for some reason to invent pretexts for having one more. These reasons are always somewhat tenuous and to set them out in the frigid medium known as ‘cold print’ brings us once again back into the underworld of cliché. Let us treat the matter catechistically.
What is it that a final drink will not do us?
Harm.
What is the condition which, by reason of the long time we will be subject to it, supports the theory that it would be safe to have one more?
The condition of being dead.
For what service maintained by the rating authority is it permissible to have still another final drink?
The road.
And upon what did a bird never fly?
Wan wing.
THERE IS AN INTERVAL HERE
An interval is right. What we all want is a good long walk in the country, plenty of fresh air and good wholesome food. This murder of my beloved English language is getting in under my nails. There are, of course, other branches of charnel-house fun into which I have not yet had the courage to lead my readers. Not quite clichés but things that smell the same and worse. Far worse. Things like this, I mean:
Of course, gin is a very depressing drink.
The air in Bundoran is very bracing.
You’ll see the whole lot of us travelling by air before you’re much older.
Your man is an extraordinary genius.
Of course, the most depressing drink of the lot is gin.
Did you get what I’m driving at? Can you visualise the list of dirty pale goading phrases with which I may—yes—‘regale’ you next week? What?
I beg your pardon?
Well that isn’t my fault. I merely record what goes on around me. I just write down what goes on.
SOCIAL INTELLIGENCE
(All musical Dublin) (is agog) (with expectation) of the new symphony by Milesius Chapaline which will form the main item in next Thursday’s concert at the Antient Concert Rooms. The new work, the 1st (today) in Ut Majeur (owner H.H. The Aga Khan) is in three movements, red, green and ambergris and will be performed by the Dublin Waamaphony Orchestra, leader Charles Stewart Parnell, conductor 3429, car No. 4, outward bound for Booterstown and points south.
If you don’t think that’s funny, write and tell me why.
CATECHISM OF CLICHÉ
WHAT, as to the quality of solidity, imperviousness, and firmness, are facts?
Hard.
And as to temperature?
Cold.
With what do facts share this quality of frigidity?
Print.
To what do hard facts belong?
The situation.
And to what does a cold fact belong?
The matter.
What must we do to the hard facts of the situation?
Face up to the hard facts of the situation.
What does a cold fact frequently still do?
Remain.
And what is notoriously useless as a means of altering the hard facts of the situation?
All the talk in the world.
Is this killing you?
It certainly is.
CLUICHE NA gCLICHÉ
DO WHAT I do. Carry a small grey American automatic and make sure that it is always stuffed with bullets. Then when some bleating fish-gilled bags opens up and says—
‘Of course, backing horses is a mug’s game.’
—just empty the gun into his low-grade jungle forehead and explain what you have done to the police. The whole thing will be hushed up and you will never hear another word about it. To try you for murder after such provocation would be to make lobster salad out of the courts of justice. If you did not kill him, he would probably go on and tell you that gin is a very depressing drink, or that September is the best month of the lot for holidays, And then it would simply have to be your life or his.
While you are here, please answer me this. In relation to any problem, what commodity of apparently fluid nature is it necessary to hammer out?
A solution.
What obscure and unhelpful act is often done with a problem?
That of only tinkering.
And to what degree is a problem sometimes insoluble?
Well-nigh.
CATECHISM OF CLICHÉ
What is a bad thing worse than?
Useless.
What can one do with fierce resistance, especially in Russia?
Offer it.
But if one puts fierce resistance, in what direction does one put it?
Up.
In which hood is a person who expects money to fall out of the sky?
Second child.
If a thing is fraught, with what is it fraught?
The gravest consequences.
What does one sometimes have it on?
The most unimpeachable authority.
What is the only thing one can wax?
Eloquent.
By what criterion is the value of a game assessed.
The candle.
What action is usually taken by people with respect to delusions and what is their relative physical situation to these states?
They labour under them.
On what article manufactured in Switzerland are hypochondriacs, paranoiacs and the like continually to be found?
The watch.
In what is it better to give over before we all go mad?
The circumstances.
DO YOU know any notorious yachtsmen? (‘Make fast that main-sheet there, you …, what the … do you … think you’re here for?’) Well, picture him, get him into your mind, pale blue eyes and all. Now answer me this:
What remark may justly be made about him, assuming he bites off the ear of an inoffensive landlubber in a tavern brawl and then sets off across Dublin bay in his old leaky smack, which forthwith capsizes?
That his bark is worse than his bite.
And what does a good game of solo put in?
The night.
Like whom did our friend go out under article ten?
Like a good many more who were too … patriotic to work for a native government.
What is that?
About the size of it.
What considerations of indeterminate value are some people most parsimonius with, steadfastly refusing to give them?
Continental damns.
With what may the continental damn be equated?
A haymaker’s spit.
What are some people if they will do what you ask?
Jiggered.
In what curious shape is it usual to find a drunk man?
Crooked.
What is a particularly presumptuous performance?
The limit altogether.
What nourishing confection for which the city of Dublin is famous the world over does it take?
The biscuit.
With what laudable epidermis is it customary to identify our friend?
A decent skin.
An imaginary decent skin?
No, a real decent skin.
What is he as good an Irishman?
As ever wore a hat.
What downward cooking operation does it engage in when coming to the same thing?
It boils down.
When?
In the end.
[THIS is the first time a newspaper article was started in brackets. Innovation, you see. The homeric tasks of creation. Bringing into being a thing hitherto not here, much more exhausting than building pyramids in Egypt. Please remind me to close the bracket at the end of the article. We must be neat, have some system. Otherwise we will merit the doubtful epithet ‘slovenly’ and the finger of scorn will be pointed at us. Only last night it occurred to me that a good name for a skin specialist’s motor vehicle would be ‘acne-car’. And to-day that impeccable little lumpeen of wit is
on your breakfast table. Speed, efficiency, see? At lunch time you can pass it off as your own. Now please stop biting your nails and listen to me.
What inexpensive unrationed commodity is often said to exceed the man possessing it in value?
His salt.
What action is never taken with regard to alcohol?
Touching it.
What ruined many a man?
The same horses.
Where was our friend in 1916?
Under the b—bed like a lot more.
What would our friend do to you or me?
Take us out and lose us.
When was our friend born?
Not to-day nor yesterday.
When did he not come down?
In the last shower.
What are on our friend?
No flies.
In what capacity would he be trusted at a crossroads?
Mindin’ mice.
Quod tempus omnibus est vitae?
Breve et irreparabile.
Quo in gurgite saepe volvuntur Aeneas et Co.?
Vasto.
Quo saepe Aeneas vox haeret?
Faucibus.
Quid faciunt omnes?
Stant.
Quo est facilis descensus?
Averno.
Quod autemest opus, quae labor?
Revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad auras.
De quibus non curat lex?
Minimis.
Quideat emptor?
Cave.
Quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?
Westminster.
What is one’s reaction to all this?
Mens immota manet; lacrimae volvuntur inanes.
That apocryphal juridical personality, the reasonable and prudent man, will probably agree with me that that is enough and plenty for wan good day. Goodbye to yez all now.
The Plain People of Ireland: Whot abouit thon brocket, d’ye ontherstawnd?
Myself: Sorry].
WHAT IS the only thing you have which you can plight?
Your troth.
What (I ask in astonishment) do you do at the same time as you tell me so?
Mean to stand there.
What sort of cheek had your man to stand there and tell me so?
Brazen.
What are climes?
Sundrenched.
What is a bike now in?
Valuable.
By whom is your man out?
Himself.
And on what obscure thing belonging to himself is he out?
His own.
What article, which one would not expect to find in him, would a catastrophic occurrence not take out of him?
A feather.
How are heights?
Great. (How’s yourself)?
How are great heights reached?
Pardon me. ATTAINED, old man. By soaring, of course.
Whom may we expect (with proper coaching) to soar to great heights?
Certain promising youngsters.
Where?
In the world of sport.
Into what must all the facts be taken?
Consideration.
What is it usual to swing?
The lead.
What would you recommend for a person who is too incredibly lazy to swing the lead for himself?
The machine overleaf, which will do it for him.
What party usually works with all?
Sundry.
What relatives (often given in its stead) does a puck in the wind have?
The father and mother.
What member, deed and physical region did one not have in it?
Hand, act or part.
What things point to a prolonged war?
All the indications.
What two substances are generally held to be dissimilar?
Chalk and cheese.
What is a sweet and fair land, a rich and rare land?
This native land of ours.
Unde illae lacrimae?
Hinc.
Quae mens in corpore sano sit?
Sana.
Per arquod ad astra?
Dua.
Usque ad quideam?
Naus.
Quid inducit nauseam?
Usque baugh.
CLIS É. A CHARA!
Of what colour is that horse?
Another.
To what should you put your shoulder?
The wheel.
What will your man some day come into?
His own.
Quando timeo Danaos?
Et dona ferentes.
Dum spiro?
Spero.
Si vis pacem?
Para bellum.
Quid est dulce et decorum?
Pro patria mori.
Quo est dulce disipere?
In loco parentis.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
In what is abundant space (in the sense of ‘room’) measured?
Bags.
And abundant time (as when catching a train)?
Bags.
Name two units of measurement of money when it is plentiful.
(a) Bags. (b) Tons.
But how is money measured when there are enormous quantities of it in question?
In relation to the surplus available for incineration.
In what are cigarettes and small articles measured when one has them in unlimited quantities?
Pucks.
What is the unit of measurement applied generally to commodities or articles which are available in gigantic quantities?
The oodle.
When stout is available in large quantities at a party, what are the usual links of measurement?
Lashins.
But where the quantity available is unprecedentedly large, what additional units of measurement must be resorted to in order adequately to describe the quantity?
Layvins.
Q. & A.
For what occasions does one have a boring and displeasing topic of conversation?
For breakfast dinner and tea.
From what aryan prototype do I not know you, sir?
Adam.
What is the nature of the objection which you have?
It is rooted.
On what is it usual to have one’s hours of waiting?
End.
In what opulent manner does one deserve a thrashing?
Richly.
With whom is one prepared to take one’s chance?
The next man.
Whom is one every bit as good as?
The next man.
To what does one think one will rise as well as the next man?
The occasion.
Like what fire does the news spread?
Wild.
How are quarters usually informed?
Well.
Quid Sap?
Verb.
OF WHAT HUE is a stranger?
Black.
What can I not stay out of any longer?
My money.
How does a person of frugal habits eat?
Sparingly.
Amicus Plato, amicus Socrates, sed quid est mihi veritas?
Magis amicus.
Bene qui latuit quomodo vixit?
Bene (Goodman).
Quis palmam ferat?
Qui meruit.
Ubi nemo me lacessit (inquit Ghandi)?
In Poona.
Noli me quidere?
Tang.
Quid dicerent Censorship Board?
Mega biblion, mega kakon maxima debetur puero reverentia.
Et quid dicerent Irish Academy of Letters?
Vita sine litteris mors est.*
Qualis virginibus pue—?
Risqué.
Quid est beneficium accipere?
Libertatem vendere.
Quid dicerent Dublin Transport Company?
Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus.
Quid est femina?
Varium et mutabile semper. (And simper).
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Mulieres eorum.
Quid tetigit quod non ornavit?
Nihil.
Quis?
Ego.
See, man, you meant him.
Circumspice.
Which omnibus line is best augured?
Fortuna favet 40 Bus.
Quem deus perdere vult, prius quid facit?
Prius dementat.
Quae pereunt et imputantur?
Hip, hip—Horae!
Quid non habet legem?
Necessitas.
Quid dixit Virgilius?
‘Exegi monumentum aere per Aeneas.’†
Quid et sapere ipsi Jovi non datur?
Simul amare.
Quando bonus dormitat Homerus?
Ali—
LAST WEEK I had a long (almost, indeed, a protracted) conversation with an important foreign personality who was passing through Ireland on his way elsewhere. The conversation performed that curious act known as ranging over a wide field. Perfect agreement was reached on many points and it was felt that the relationship between the two countries had (much to gain) (from this frank exchange of views). It had been intended also to exchange notes but owing (to pressure of time) it was only found possible to exchange views. Afterwards a short visit was paid to the Zoological Gardens.
Who this person was and what we talked about, of course, I am (not in a position to disclose). A (prominent spokesman) would probably call what we were doing (intense diplomatic activity). It is necessary to emphasise, however, that the whole thing was entirely unofficial. It is unlikely that any announcement will be made.
Farther than this I regret I cannot go. I know better than to shoot (off) my mouth when tipped (off) to keep it shut. Remember that lovely thing by Goethe?
‘Kommst du in des Königs Haus
Geh blind hinein und stumm heraus.’
Not that it was that particular party, of course.
LOCK, STOCK AND BARREL
From what small two-letter word may the whole thing be said to have been a wash-out?
Best of Myles Page 23