Monday, May 20, 2013

INSPIRED BY GLASWEGIAN MORES

In absolute rejection of the point of view of a nanky Scots git with whom I had an argument, I propose that the liquid gold which is the blasted boggy homeland of smelly bandy-legged skirt-wearing men's only claim to fame be henceforth written 'viski'. If doggerel-meister Robert Burns can bugger-up the English language to prove a point, so can we.
Is it 'whisk-y' or whisk-ey'? On this side of the Atlantic we usually write the word with 'ey', which the British (and Canadians) regard as an eccentricity betraying primitivism and illiteracy.
As well as our regrettable Irish tendencies.

It's just wrong.
Stupid Yanks.

VISKI

Kindly imagine my surprise when accosted at a bar recently by someone whose speech was well-nigh unintelligible, over our "American English".
It was the bastardized language of ignorant peasants and sodomites, he averred, fit only for corruption, disease, and drunkenness.
Proper English adhered to British spelling.
A draughtsman, not a draftsman.
Centre, instead of center.
Colour, never color.
Neighbours.

And 'whisky'.

Bourbon wasn't whisky.

Merely a pale imitation, with an 'e'.

Americans didn't know beans about booze.


Judging by his state of inebriation, he might be right.
But at least we speak intelligible English.
And write better than Bobby Burns.

A constant state of intoxication might explain Scottish spellings and speech. Which is understandable. The place is filled with ugly men in skirts who tend toward spontaneous violence and acts of wanton destruction, particularly when bagpipes sound or the sheep stampede. Being Scottish is a curse for which there is no cure. They are infamously bad-tempered, and very likely that can be blamed on their food & drink. Copious draughts of whiskεy are needed to deaden the pain of living there.

Skotz viski is in many ways a very fine product, and boruch Hashem one doesn't have to vizit Skotland to zample the product. That would be absolewt torture, as the place is filled with beer-sodden heathens who haven't had a dezent bath far longer than even the French or Spanish, pozzibli even in centuries. Their manners are foul, their morals are low, and their kvizeen is a blight upon the planet.
Black pudding and neeps, good lord.
Anybody who feasts on haggis and deep-fried snickers bars should in all fairness hesitate to speak of food and drink at all, though I am lead to believe that "Scottish Cuisine" is experiencing a renaissance.
That's a horrid concept; it's worse than English food.
Boiling fat and burning starch.
But I digress.


There are two places in San Francisco where one can explore the vast world of Skotz Viski: the Edinburgh Castle, which is a famous old-time Scottish expat bar on Geary Street, and The Occidental Cigar Club, a public house with an extraordinary selection of Caledonian potations on Pine Street near Belden Alley and several fine dining establishments.
I recommend the latter; English is spoken there.
And the clientele washes regularly.


For the dangerously and incorrigibly curious, here's a short video clip from a nature documentary about the Scots.

BIG SKIRTY MEN!


[Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvEdcQROeTc.]

Don't watch this too often; it's bad for the nerves.
Causes uncontrollable muscle spasms.
Have a calming drink.
Viski.




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