God is Great, Beer is

…good, people are crazy.

It turns out that the world-famous Martinsville Chair is too big even for me. (But I appreciate the gesture.)

…Will I root against the Hoyas tomorrow night, even though they face-off against the school which sits directly across the street from the cathedra of Bishop Francis Xavier DiLorenzo?

No comment.

…Has someone ever rubbed you the wrong way?

Did you find yourself casting about for a fitting imprecation? At a loss for words?

I think I may have discovered the most eloquent string of insults ever spewed.

In William Shakespeare’s Richard III, the deposed queen Margaret excoriates the evil Duke who murdered her son with these words:

…stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world’s peace!
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal’d in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother’s heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father’s loins!
Thou rag of honour! (Act I, scene 3)

N.B. Just providing this as a public service. Use with discretion.

Not convinced that this is the most blistering string of insults the language has ever produced? Please submit other nominations.

5 thoughts on “God is Great, Beer is

  1. You read my mind……..I hope that the “evil Duke” gets “excoriated” in the NCAA! What the heck did Shakespeare know about basketball anyway?????

  2. Late breaking news! Shakespeare may have played guard!

    “Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
    Can pierce a complete bosom.” ….R & J

  3. Fr. White,

    First, and foremost, what’s the Deacon doing looking up Shakespeare quotes on St. Patrick’s evening, when the “Beer is”? Is he existentially engaged, or what?

    Secondly, I think that these lines, though no where near as fulsome as the curse above, do the trick (from T. S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland”):

    “‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
    ‘Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
    ‘You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'”

    When it comes to lashing out at God, others, and self, it sort-of says it all.

    So, how to end all this rambling? How about a favorite quote from the movies, from “Little Big Man,” at the closing, when Old Lodge Skins has laid himself down on his funeral bier (no, not beer, bier — see “Dust unto Dust”), and is hit in the face by a raindrop:

    [Grandfather, who has laid himself down to die, wakes up]
    Old Lodge Skins: “Am I still in this world?”
    Jack Crabb: “Yes, Grandfather.”
    Old Lodge Skins: [groans] “I was afraid of that. Well, sometimes the magic works. Sometimes, it doesn’t.”

    With which, he gets up to continue life.

    LIH,

    joe

  4. Fr. White……..With a British father, would Joe expect me to be reading the likes of Joyce and Burke?
    But if he’s tied tightly to the Irish and beer, check out this little one from James Stephens: A Glass of Beer

    The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there
    Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer;
    May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair,
    And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year.

    That parboiled ape, with the toughest jaw you will see
    On virtue’s path, and a voice that would rasp the dead,
    Came roaring and raging the minute she looked at me,
    And threw me out of the house on the back of my head!

    If I asked her master he’d give me a cask a day;
    But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange!
    May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may
    The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.

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