Paddy Beaks and Viking Descendants

The Extreme Right is a curious mix, indeed. Here is an example from 40 years ago. A friend who was into it subscribed to a magazine called American Mercury. The cover usually had art of the Founding Fathers and other historical personages. At first glance, I thought it was a history magazine.

One day, while at my friend’s house, I picked up a copy of the magazine and tried to read it. There was an article about a man’s visit to Iceland. The article made sense at first, but then the author started complaining. He complained about all the “Irish noses” on the Icelanders. Of course, the Icelanders did mix with the Irish. That is no surprise. But to read the article was to hear a litany of complaints about “Irish noses” and the implied mixing with the Irish.

I found it hilarious, though the author did not intend to be funny.

Think of it this way. You are in medieval Iceland, and there she is. A pixie-faced Irish harp-ette with those floppy Celtic boobs and pile-driving hips. And she has eyes for you. Are you going to pass her up? Are you going to complain that any offspring might have Irish noses? You already know that like most Irish women, she is probably a pain in the ass, but why let that stand in your way?

Just for laughs, imagine someone with a Scandinavian accent saying:“ I will not mate with an Irish woman because I do not want my children to have Irish noses.”

By the way, some Scandinavian women are a pain in the ass, too.

Yes, it is funny. And it is pathetic. The article was an episode of petty bigotry and stupidity. Then again, most things of that nature are inherently stupid. The one who comes off bad is not the Icelanders with the so-called “Irish noses” (also know as Paddy Beaks), but the moron who wrote the article.

Back then, the Right-wing rags also had ads for Laetrile, investing in gold, and other crackpot schemes. I guess that if you are offended by Irish noses, you may be a sucker for the latest pseudo science and goofball investment scheme.

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It is a scientific fact that when it comes to Irish women, the bigger they are, the more pleasant they are. On the other hand, the scrawny little ones with button boobs are constant complainers, perennial grouches and a monumental pain in the ass. I know this from personal experience: growing up around them, and dating some of them.

If you enjoyed this article, please read some of the other articles on this blog.