Ciaran O’Callaghan
Staff Writer
A couple of Wednesdays back (on the 8th February) the front-page of the Metro Herald ran the headline ‘Last orders for drink adverts?’. The article that followed reported how the government had considered the complete eradication of alcohol-sponsorship of sporting events. By all accounts the call for raising the price of cheap booze was also tossed around. The commentary in the piece inevitably went on to regurgitate a heap of statistics that portrayed booze in an extremely negative light – it would make one want to lock away the whiskey in a cold dark miserable cabinet for good.
Succeeding this, on Friday 10th, John Waters wrote a piece for the Irish Times entitled ‘The real reason why drink crisis will persist’. Waters’ article focused on the socio-economic reasoning behind the mass-consumption of alcohol in Ireland and whether Ireland’s “lethal” relationship with alcohol will continue. He concluded the piece by proposing the notion that the booze “crisis” is the real reason why Irish citizens are not “marching in the streets or pulling the gates of Government Buildings off their hinges”. For Johnny, it seems, people will not revolt, protest or generally be angry at the government so long as ‘the cure’ is readily available and oh-so-cheap to purchase. His final words were poignant: “Ireland left undrugged will never be at peace”.
Perhaps this reasoning is logical; one can imagine the monologue: “Ahh jay-sis they’ve increased VAT again… now I’ve to break into a tenner to buy a pint… Ah sure I’ll smash up the Dáil big style cos they’re a rake of fools. But I’ll have the pint first…” Ten pints follow and the only thing this imaginary being smashes is a Donner Kebab soaked in mayonnaise, curry sauce and a load of chilli into his mouth. I don’t blame him – and the Dáil stays intact (I suppose he is my imaginary character so I can’t really be getting angry at him – that would be odd).
The question has been posed many-a-time. Is alcohol a problem in Trinity? Are we restraining ourselves from consistently being out on the streets organizing uprisings due to the fact we’ve all had one too many West Coast Coolers (don’t knock-em) the previous night? I’m not entirely sure this is the case. I remember in my first year, the fees protest, lads and ladettes were strolling around with naggins essentially nagging those who rule over us to not introduce fees. Perhaps Waters is wrong – perhaps the case is the opposite. Drink fuels unnecessary fires.
In TCD, there are posters in the places we defecate and urinate telling us to ‘drinkaware’. Should we even have to be told to be aware of when/what/how much we are drinking and what it is doing to our bodies!?
Over-Imbibing – that is to intoxicate oneself with liquor to the point of saturation – has many interesting synonyms around Trinity. The words and phrases people employ for getting drunk are outrageous. When I asked a mixed demographic of arts-block-look-at-me-loiterers for their specific terminology for drinking heavily the replies were varied, creative and inexplicable: “Shteamed”, “Off my looper” and “Rat-*rsed” were commonly used – whilst “Tore myself a new a***e-hole” and “Slept-in-a-digger” were a couple of the more unusual responses. One atypical reply, coming from a gentleman wearing a spiffing cricket jumper, chinos and a barbour jacket was quite hilarious/ridiculous: “Oh rightio, yah, I see, so you mean becoming jolly? A tad squiffy? Getting knocked for six? O yah sure yah that does happen yah… chunklety-vomcano and all that frivolity…” Well, it seems the desire to pollute oneself with booze transcends the cliques and classes we have at this noble institution.
When interviewing one international student about the pleasures of drinking in Ireland he replied: “It eez very good to drink with zee friends here in Trinity. Zee Guinness is great and the craic is always…how shall I say… mighty! But some of zee people I see drinking…non… no style man, no style. All zey do is drink quickly and zey drink lots. Zey do not taste ze vin.” He is French –he loves sipping on wine and mulling over international politics, social affairs and rugby. His ideas about alcohol are intriguing – “I’m not saying zat all of zee Irish are drinking too much – the French who are around my age, zay drink too much also – but no, it eez just zat I’m a bit older now and I like to taste zee Guinness rather than see it vanish too quickly. It costs too much to do zat no?”. He told me how French students love a good protest. Are they alcohol fuelled? My guess is oui.
Most of us have done it, most of us have quoted Christy Moore – jay-sis never again – in some way or another. Such an assertion is usually swiftly followed by bile… lots and lots of bile. Why do we not stop drinking when are suitably inebriated?
Surely it can’t be the taste – a mouldy concoction of cough-syrupy Buckfast mixed with the arse-end of a tepid can of Bavaria-laced-Druids (a mitzy-turbo-shandy) is not palatable in the slightest. First year excitement over such interesting concoctions soon die off though.
So is it age? Again, I’m not sure. There are plenty of post-grad lads and lassies who love a good session on the apple sourz.
Is it the never-ending drive for heightened masculinity? Surely it’s a contributing factor. But I know of many a lady who could easily sink twice as many cans as myself (which makes it just the 4) without a stagger a stutter or even a flutter (of the fake eyelashes).
Is it solely because of the fact that we have one and if that one is good, then one leads to many? Many is entirely arbitrary.
Sure even Theobald Wolfe-Tone, in his astounding memoirs, wrote on the 25th March, 1796: “At night sent for a bottle of Burgundy, intending to drink one glass. Began to read (having opened my bottle)… After reading some time, found my passion at a particular circumstance kindled rather more than seemed necessary, as I flung the book from me with great indignation. Turned to my bottle, to take a glass to cool me – found to great astonishment, that it was empty. Oh ho!” Well Theo lad, time for you to hit the hay – there would be no getting into Krystal after a bottle of Burgundy. Oh no!
Wolfe Tone came to Trinity – and at Trinity he drank. His memoirs also reveal that whilst he was in a political club he co-established upon these very grounds it was in fact a prerequisite to bring a bottle of red (Claret or Burgundy if you’re being pedantic) and an essay upon political affairs to the meetings. The agenda: sip-on and discuss. However, it is essential to note that after one occasion, Mr. Tone, most probably in an awful state, wrote of how he felt that political discussion fuelled by alcohol was unproductive – to say the very least.
Yeats came to Trinity. Yeats enjoyed a casual drink. Accounts suggest that he indulged in other substances also. His poems are the most celebrated in Ireland – and additionally around the globe.
This article isn’t trying to argue for or against over-imbibing. It is merely pointing out that, despite the negative press, drink can – when consumed in a thoughtful manner – be extremely beneficial to society. Tone died a tragic death – Yeats not so much. But neither of them were truly accountable to booze. They drank wisely. I’m sure that they would both concur that a drop of wine is good for the soul and the mind. I’m not sure, however, what either of them would think about ten pints of lovely creamy Guinness or a few mitzi-turbo-shandies. It’s worthless even trying to speculate.
The Metro’s article was all doom and gloom. Waters’ article was interesting. He was not wrong – however he was not entirely right. If people can think about what they consume before they consume more than enough to be able to think, then the ‘crisis’ may not be apparent. Eventually, perhaps, we will be out on the street – ranting instead of rioting and singing instead of smashing things up.
Yeats said this:
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
I wonder if he was looking and sighing at a pint of Guinness when he wrote this… whilst sipping on wine and nailing back the mitzie-shandies. I doubt it. It was probably Valentine’s day when he wrote it – he loved mots.
It’s time for me to go to the pub and have a pint / sip on some wine with my French friend and continue to discuss. One won’t lead to many as I’ve only a tenner. Bloomin’ VAT!
