January 11, 2004

I gie ye fair notice: January 25th is Rabbie Burns Day!
  • This is for our Oceanic readers ... the ones who know who John Clarke is. To A Howard Wee, sleekit, tim'rous beastie, I know tha's probably doing thy bestie But the kind'st heart wuid ha' to see Thou's nay made a fist o' the thing, For e'en when there's nothin at a' to say Tha opens thy gob a' the drop o' the noo And thou lets the wind bloo tha tongue aroon. Och ye poor wee laddie, ye've no got the breen, Ye've no got the sense to come out o' the reen, Why don't thou gi'e it awa' and gae hame, It's no guid th' watch if ye can't tell the tame, There are jobs gang aplenty awa' at the farm Afrightening birds by waving th' arms, Ye ken they're gae keen t' employ the bold laddies Awa' at the links where they're looking for caddies, If that's not to thy taste and thou's wanting a change Thy'll try wi' th' gunnery up at the range, Thou'll no have much truible, thou've dun it afore, Thou's an expert for a' that; look, 'Wanted: Small Bore'.
  • Australian PM emphatically not my cup of tea, either. Sidenote on the title for those with sciences/tech background: Couldn't find an online production of Slang and Its Analogues by Farmer and Henley, but within this work is defined a Victorian term "Norfolk Howard -... (common) 1. A bug" [by which the prudish Victorians meant a body louse]. Burns would have approved the underlying sentiment of 'To a Howard', Burns himself having written a poem entitled 'To a Louse'.
  • There's a life-sized statue of Robbie Burns declaiming from an impressively massive plinth on North Terrace here in Adelaide. From memory, we had him endowed upon us by one of our Scots worthies. I pass by him every time I go to the library.
  • oh oh!! my boyfriend and i were witness to a presentation of burns' "address to the haggis" at a society of editors meeting in glasgow. it was quite, um, scottish! tasty dish, btw...
  • The wild haggis is (discreditably) reported to roam the Highlands, so much so that the two legs on one side of its body grow shorter than the two on the opposite side, thus enabling the beastie to graze round and round a mountain without toppling or tumbling down the braes into the burns.
  • Irn Bru is actually just rusty bong water.
  • Back in the day, bees and mees were the onlies interested in monopolising the posts on Rabbi Burns. I still maintain the haggis is the king of fruit. *leaves door open for riposte involving puddings and chieftains*
  • Haggis are fun to pet--a bit sticky, but they purr like cats if you do it right.
  • Dick Gaughan does a mean version of Westlin Winds which I believe is based on one of Rab's adaptions. My favourite poem from yer man has to be A Man's a Man for A' That
    Is there for honest poverty That hings his head, an a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by - We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, an a' that! Our toils obscure, an a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodding grey, an a' that? Gie fools their skills, and knaves their wine - A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, Their tinsel show, an a' that, The honest man, tho e'er sae poor, Is king o men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord,' Wha struts, an stares, an a' that? Tho hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, His ribband, star, an a' that, The man o independent mind, He looks an laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an a' that! But an honest man's aboon his might - Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, an a' that, Their dignities, an a' that, The pith o sense an pride o worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may (As come it will for a' that), That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree an a' that. For a' that, an a' that, It's coming yet for a' that, That man to man, the world, o'er Shall brithers be for a' that.
    Shameless cut'n'paste form here
  • Mrs Pleg insists on MacSween's. Apparently haggises (haggii?) on sale in English supermarkets are often made with pork, which (apparently again) is a travesty.
  • A fine tribute to the man -- and the hamely fare, too, Abiezer_Coppe! A sheep's paunch held the haggis. What medley of stuffs went into it may be best left to the imagination -- but traditionally involved oddments of sheep -- lung and heart, oats, onions, some say a bit of grated carrot, suet, and I have even encountered one made with brown rice as well. . Reason why Scots drink whisky -- to wash down the haggis. I would not cross the street for a bite of even the best haggis, myself, but the piping when it's brought in is usually fine hearing. And the poetry is usually superb, being mostly Burns
  • Oh jeebus islander, that's the best thing EVER! I desperately want to go!
  • Thanks Wolof, you have reminded me to try and find that John Clarke book. He is a very smart and funny man.
  • Excuse me, I might be a trained anthropologist, but I need to go treat myself for culture shock now. (that GungHaggisFatChoy link just pushed it manfully over the edge.)
  • Did we skip Burns day this year?? **looks around the thread confusedly** PLEASE for the love of Phil, don't forget Groundhog Day. Six more weeks damn
  • Here is a supplementary bulletin from the office of Fluctuation Control, Bureau of Edible Condiments, Soluble and Indigestible Fats and Glutinous Derivatives, Washington D.C. Correction of Directive 943456201, issued a while back, concerning the fixed price of groundhog meat: In the directive above named, the quotation on groundhog meat should read ground hog meat. -Bob and Ray
  • ARRRRRRRRRGH! Damn you Islander--no wonder he dived back into his hole leaving us with six more weeks of winter!
  • Hoist a haggis for 250th anniversary of the Bard's birth! Scots Wha Hae (youtube, gratuitous pictures of woad-wearing Mel Gibson) *has a celebratory wee dram misses bees*
  • Auld Lang Syne from Die Toten Hosen. I too am bee-reft
  • BEE, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous monkey, Oh, what a panic's in thy postie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi' beeswacky brattle! I was be laith to rin an' calm thee, Wi' meanderin' prattle! /pours extra shot of honey in the coffee
  • PETEBEST!! *clings to petebest's leg* Don't go away no more!
  • Y!!!!!!!!! It's PETE !!!!!!!!Y *puts on the party records* *runs to slaughter the fatted 'nana* Now com'ere and give yer ol' GramMa a kiss, you little scamp. All these years I've been thinking that name was familiar, but the connection never happened. Then my memory was finally kicked in whilst I was talking to a friend about the Beatles. P.B. was their ex-drummer. Light dawned! Unfortunately, now I'll keep visualizing the Wikipedia photo whenever I think of our Pete--who is much more suave and handsome, to be sure!