PIECES OF ADVICE
As we ask some of Ireland’s famous faces what advice they would give to their younger selves (see page 16), Pat Fitzpatrick suggests other apt pearls of wisdom
Nor a lender be. A little gem there from Shakespeare. If someone put a gun to our head, we'd be willing to bet that David Drumm and co in Anglo didn't do Hamlet for the Leaving. They were probably focused on other subjects anyway, like Economics and Applied Country-Shagging. The Anglo guys probably also missed another great line from Polonius: “Speak not frankly to John Bowe on the blower for he is the taped one and you will verily end up sounding like a right asshole.” As you would like to be treated yourself. A great bit of advice that simply doesn't work in Ireland. Why? The hangovers give us terrible self-loathing. So you end up with: “How would you feel if someone treated you like that?” “Grand, really.” “Why?” “Because I deserve it.” “What gives you that idea?” “Because I'm nothing but a worthless piece of shite.” “What are you going to do about it?” “I was thinking of going for a drink.” Mammy's favourite advice, run a close second by, “Get off that wet rock or you'll end up with a cold in your kidneys”. You could summarise Mammy's wisdom with the simple phrase “Be afraid of everything”. That includes the weather, shellfish, any form of journey, watching something that isn't on RTE One and, let's face it, foreigners. It's bad enough they come from outside Ireland — what's worse is that some of them seem proud of the fact.
The full version of this advice reads: 1) Find someone with low self-esteem and their own house. 2) Move in with them. 3) Follow your dream. Avoid timescales, because that could involve actual work. 4) Ask for a loan of 50 quid until the end of the week. 5) When your partner asks you what about their dream, storm out of the room in tears. That's just how you dreamers roll. 6) Have a lie down. 7) Ask for another 50 quid.
A bit of wisdom familiar to Buddhists and people on roundabouts who can't find the right exit. Karma states we will get our just deserts in the end. As against Catholicism, where you can sin like bejaysus up to the end and wipe the slate clean with some magic words. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I guarantee it won't happen again, particularly now that I am about to die.” Seems like a no-contest when you put it like that.