Celtic Illumination, part 20, Snogging, swearing and sisters
I can sense that many of you are disheartened and feel that the drudgery you call ‘life’ will continue ad nauseam. How on earth could you become Master Candle Makers, when none of you are of royal descent, none of you have endured the brutal schooling required and none of you have a suitable deformity. Please understand that my training was special and was only so severe because I was being prepared for my future role as King of Ireland. It is only after forty plus years that you will begin to understand why your life has been so tough, why there has been so many challenges. One day it will all fall into place and the next step you take will see you begin to grow into a Master Candle Maker. Of course to be able to take that step you must, like me, have the loveliest legs in Ireland.
My sister, five years older than myself, began training me in interrogation techniques and how to resist them. The methods and lessons were so effective I still remember them to this day. It was Christmas; we had both been paroled from our respective schools and were at home in Belfast. We were outside test driving the new shoes we had been given as presents. My sister asked me what swear words I had learned at school. I exchanged this information with her to then see her run into the house shouting “Mommie mommie, he’s swearing.” My mother would always hold me down as my father lashed me on the bare buttocks with his shaving strop, but they were not aware that the training I was receiving at Violent Hell meant I hardly felt their blows. I was moving on.
And let me also state here and now that not all of my training was horrific. Even in my early years connections were being made that would hold me in good standing when I took back my throne. My sister had also been ripped from her natural parents, but wasn’t being prepared to be a Master Candle Maker. She is now a professor in an Italian university, or as I call her, a fecking teacher. I think one of her roles in my training was of comforter. And comfort me she did for she and her girlfriends used to use me for snogging practice before I even knew what snogging was for.
You may think it strange that I would mention such incidents and wonder what relevance they could possibly have on the life of a future Master Candle Maker and King of Ireland. Well; one of my sister’s girlfriends was a lass known as Mary Leneghan. Her parents eventually moved from Belfast to Rostrevor where they ran a pub, but Mary, attending a school similar to Violent Hell, became a barrister. She married a fellow who was a dentist and an accountant and both at the same time if you don’t mind. She took his name and became known as Mary McAleese, who you would know better as the President of Ireland.
So as you can see, even as a youngster, I was being introduced to and connected with the people who would help me run my Kingdom. And this was long before I would understand what duties lay before me.