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Moygashel To Be Renamed Maigh gCaisil for 12 Months In Honour Of 1916 Rising

_76004416_moygashel copyMoygashel locals are said to be bewildered that they were not consulted over a proposed name change in honour of the 100th anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising next year. 

The Moygashel Concern Group are to hold a candlelit prayer session tomorrow night beside the War Memorial in the hope that the decision will be reversed before they are forced to resort to wrecking.

The Northern Ireland Place-Naming Cabinet maintain it is the correct decision and a real hands-across-the-divide gesture. Spokesman Harriet Herman added:

“Once we settled on Moygashel as a location, we had to decide what to call it. After several votes, we whittled it down to two options – Maigh gCaisil or Patrick Pearseland. The was the fact that the Irish sounds just like the anglicised version that swung it for us. We just need to educate the locals on how to nasally pronounce the second bit. Sure it’s only for a year.”

Moygashel Young Defenders drummer Billy Rooney is sceptical about the decision:

“This is just the start of it. We went for a long drive last Sunday and went through a place called ‘Eglish’. I’ve lived here for 61 years and I’m pretty sure it was always called ‘English’. They’re sneaking their language in by stealth. But we’re not stupid.”

Meanwhile, plans to rename the Moygashel Playpark ‘The Joseph Plunkett Slides and SeeSaw Park’ have been put on the back burner for now.

Killyman Man Laments Loss of ‘Good Old-Fashioned Prejudice’ During Visit To London

A thing of the past?

A thing of the past?

A man returning from a holiday in London is thinking about complaining to the Lord Mayor’s office after having been treated with courtesy and friendliness throughout the visit.

63 year old Patrick Dunn from Killyman worked in Cricklewood in the 1970s as a bricklayer and labourer, and expected a very different type of reception from the one he received when he went for a month’s holiday in May to visit some of his old haunts in north west London.

“Thon feckers couldn’t have been nicer”, complained Dunn. “What’s that all about? I remember the times when the Irish were treated as proper outcasts. I was fully expecting some old-fashioned discrimination so that I could go into O’Donnell’s Bar in Kilburn and moan about it. I couldn’t, could I? Everyone was lovely. And also because they’ve turned it into a delicatessen”.

In an effort to experience more traditional discrimination, Dunn met up with a West Indian friend of his and after finding a stray collie dog went to look for bed and breakfast accommodation, expecting to be given his marching orders very quickly.

“Jaysus, did the first door we knock on not offer us 50% off for 3 nights and that the dog would be most welcome”, said a disappointed Dunn. “What’s the world coming to? They were so lovely I ended up staying for a week. Evil hoors. They were even calling me ‘Mister Dunn’. Mister Dunn? I thought they were takin’ the haun out of me, but then they said they they didn’t want to call me Paddy for fear of offending me. And Paddy’s my bloody name. What about my rights? Where’s all the old-fashioned intolerance, eh? I was even getting offers of work without so much as asking for it. I’m a brickie by trade. I build walls. But I got offered full-time work as a plumber, a vet, a systems analyst, and a Boeing 747 pilot. I couldn’t believe it. What’s the world coming to? It was a nightmare. Especially the jet lag after flying jumbos all day”.

I don’t know. They bloody love the Irish over there”, lamented Dunn. “I won’t be going back”.

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