Llythyr ir Golygydd/Letter to the Editor

Syr/Sir
In response to Danny ap Nicholas's llythyr/letter of the 22/07/14 I thought I would reply in Wenglish so that we could all understand it. He wrote in English you see and that is not the indigenous language of Cymru/Wales. As a resident of Trelai/Ely in Caerdydd/Cardiff I wonder if Mr Nicholas sings the Welsh National Anthem/Yr Anthem Cenedlaethol Cymraeg at Match Days in the Prifddinas/Capital of Wales or is he like Max Boyce's family like a 'whole row of goldfish' mouthing the words. The Welsh Language is a Treasure/Trysor not a rhwystr/impediment. I didn't even know what that was in Welsh and had to look it up. There isn't even a Welsh Translation for the Western Mail and you yourself are the Papur Cenedlaethol Cymru! Every day there is a letter about the Welsh language, it is somewhat of a Taten Poeth/Hot Potato. Yesterday/Ddoe you decided  to promote Mr Nicholas letter to Rhif 1/No 1 which I think is really testament to the Western Mail's/No Welsh Translation available editorial policy! You have a 'Welsh Watch' in your supplement on Saturday as if it was some endangered species and indeed it will be if you continue to promote anti-welsh language sentiment through your letters page. Would it not be better to call a cadoediad/ceasefire and allow the language which was here before the Western Mail and Danny Nicholas of Ely. To quote the late Parchedig/Reverend Glyn James of Ferndale/Glynrhedyn, y Rhondda Fach/Little Rhondda. "Welsh was spoken across the continent of Europe whilst English was not even a scream in the forests of Germany". As the National Newspaper of Wales you have a duty to redress the balance in today's Cymru/Wales. I look forward to seeing my letter at Rhif 1/No 1 in tomorrow's Western Mail/ Post Gorllewinol?

Yn Gywir

The Shark Fisherman of Wales
Deepest/Darkest Grangetown

Gwas bach ffyddlon

Dwi'n gwas bach ffyddlon i'm ffrindiau a fy nheulu

 

Rhoi pawb a phopeth o flaen fi fy hun

Ac wedyn mae'r teimladau o ddicter yn dechrau

Dwi'n siŵr fod bobol yn dewis anghofio fy mod yn ddioddef o anhwylder dau begwn.

Iawn i chi tretio fi yn 'normal' i raddau ond mae'n rhaid i chwi cofio pam es i'n sâl yn y lle gyntaf

Oherwydd mi wnes i gyfaddawdu i fod yn aelod o'r gymdeithas yma.

Mae rhaid cystadlu ond rwyf yn gwrthod.

Peidiwch plîs disgwyl i mi gwneud yr un peth a phobol eraill oherwydd dwi ddim fel pobol eraill.

Dwi'n tristau i fer fy esgyrn.

Cilio rhag y byd ar fetws fydd y dyfodol i mi.

Dwi ddim eisiau fod fel pawb arall oherwydd dych chi ddim y fersiwn gorau a gwreiddiol ohonoch chi’ch hun.

Rydych wedi gwerthu allan i lwyddo.

nationalist with a small n

 

I am a nationalist with a small n. I must be, otherwise, this blog would be entitled Shark Fishing in the UK. I identify as Welsh and not British. I acknowledge the individual countries that make up the British Isles and respect them as autonomous powers. The World Cup has just finished and if that wasn't a celebration of nationalism I don't know what was. Every game preceded by a nation-al anthem. Very often these are rousing renditions. A nation is a land mass identified by a flag and a language. They are part of bigger continents. Historically we have seen wars due to national pride and aggression. nations have invaded nations because their sense of national pride has got out of control. Unfortunately there are conservatives with a small c in the ranks of Welsh nationalists and this is a major reason why I am no longer a member of the Welsh National Party, Plaid Cymru. That combined with the fact that they have two members in the British House of Lords, the unelected second chamber. For a nationalist party to condone the unjustified status quo in this way is beyond my comprehension. As regular readers will be aware my biggest concern is the Welsh Language, everything else can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. I would sacrifice, the Rugby, the Football, Male Voice Choirs, Lava Bread etc etc if the Language can be saved and for it to revive. It's not looking good and it won't be helped by nationalists with a small n continuing to write their blogs in the English language. The nation of Islam is on fire, the nation of Israel is terrorising the nation of Palestine. In this respect it would probably be better if there were no nations. nations allow individual people to ascribe meaning to themselves through the nation state. The bigger the nation the easier it is to get lost in its history and rhetoric. I wish I wasn't a nationalist with a small n. I don't take pride in shit I haven't done because I don't think Wales has done anything and I only hate people I haven't met because I am a misanthrope, nothing to do with their nationality. I hate some Welsh people a lot more than I hate nationalists of other countries.      



Dai Mutant

Dai Mutant's Monologue

"Sut Mae?" right that's it, that's all the Welsh I know I'm afraid.

What's wrinkly, goes in and out and stinks of piss?

Old age Pensioners doing the hokey cokey.

My name is Dai Mutant and I come visiting you from Planet Penygraig.

That's just to the left of Venus and to the South of Mars like.

I was well annoyed last week, I was sitting on my rock having a caws Caerffili sangwitch (we always pronounce the g in sangwitch)

and this bloody Voyager space craft lands right on my Halford's picnic rug.

Next thing I know two air balloons inflate and a machine on wheels comes out.

Stupid things can't get over the terrain so I puncture it with my fag and its off like Hi Ho Tonto Away!  

They are not pictures of Mars they are sending back,

that's the Rhondda that is!

Where it landed was Doris Evans's back yard.

And that face they have meant to have found?

That's all the young tearaway aliens doing donuts on Rhigos mountain.

And that pyramid they are all on about, that's the Happy Shopper in Pandy.

NASA my arse. They told everybody it had gone to Mars.

Tell me then why did the first live broadcast show a Rhondda Cynon Taf Tipper Lorry going past?

My cousin Mad Dan was driving it!

I realised I was a mutant in work like when somebody told me "I wasn't all there".

Work, well that's what they called it!

Every time I was bullied at school I zapped em with my ray gun fingers and the bullies would burst into flames on the playground.

Their mothers were not happy.

They've promised to have me on Wales Today for an interview but I heard nothing back.

Smart piece that Lucy Cohen mind!

My father's name was Ectac, he was from Pluto originally and Mam's maiden name was Ivy Jones from Ynysybwl.

They met in the Car Park when Dad's pod come down in a storm.

She took him home for a cup of tea and the rest as they say is history.

I was a messy baby by all accounts.

Kryptonite and Corn Flakes for breakfast.

They should make me leader of the Welsh Assembly instead of that Carwyn Jones.

 He's Neptune originally, by Bryncethin there.

Hopeless leaders they make.

I'd shake em up a bit aye!

I'd force everybody to speak Welsh.

See people are lazy by nature and design.

If you came to my planet, you'd have to speak Plutonese.   

They are having a job down the job centre finding me a job.

Too many digits on my hands or 'over qualified' to use their terminology.  

Well this won't buy the baby a new bonnet!

I better go and pretend I'm looking for work spose!

Well it's been nice talking at you!

Nanw Nanw Shazbatt and all that!



The Arrogance of Golfers

The Arrogance of Golfers

You stand there, squeaking on the green, in new shoes.
Canary Yellow, Flamingo Pink, not just blue but bastard BLUE jumpers.
Your glove caressing your backside in the way your wife doesn't.
Sneering middle management in a Valleys golf club!
You really do think that you're something,
the way you swipe that ball off the ground
with your hand.
I'm sorry if I coughed.
Did I put you off?
How are you getting on?
What's it say on your scorecard?
You've done well since we started off in the Steelworks together.
Sorry if my dog got your ball and that!
Well it is right of way for walkers.
You expect me to stop for you as you tee off?
You can fuck right off Delme...to Malaga and back!
Four!!!

Two Forms

I sent two forms off this morning, one to the IVF clinic at the University of Wales Hospital, Heath, Cardiff, consenting to them to allow my sperm to perish and the other one to Cardiff City Council (Council Tax Division) confirming that I was the only occupant at my residency. I won't give you any more information, I'll let you join up the dots.
So unless I meet someone sharpish that I can impregnate it is unlikely now that I will become a father which is a shame (I think so anyway) because I have been told by a few women that I would make a good Dad. Even if a miracle was to happen and a 'hottie' was to show up that I could make pregnant I don't think it would be fair on the child because 1) I have Bi-Polar Disorder and they might inherit it which would be a fate worse than death for the kid so best to remain unborn and 2) I will be pushing into old age when the child becomes a man or woman. Elderly parents have their place but to leave your children bereft too young is not a good idea.
3) Any man who refers to women or potential mothers as 'hotties' doesn't deserve to be a father/husband.
 It appears that on a lot of forms for the NHS, for the DWP, ATOS etc etc that one of the first questions they ask you is about your relationship status presuming that you have a partner and child. Now I feel that it is a strange presumption to make, similar to guilty unless proven innocent. Our society is obsessed with coupling and mortgages and procreation to the detriment of single people. Single people deserve awards, they deserve single person benefits rather than having to pay Single person supplements when they go on holiday. "Oh you want a single room do you, that'll be 25pound extra". 25 pound for staying single? Single people are doing the world a favour by not joining in the chaos and mayhem. Procreating couples and families will shift the earth off its axis if they carry on at this rate. It appears that you can be financially better off in all sorts of ways if these forms are to be believed. I just hope future generations will appreciate my sacrifice and thank me for not bringing another little shark fisherperson into this mess and no I am not interested in being a Step Dad.   

   

Cardiff's Mediterranean Quarter

 

piss poor palm plant on

a

pallet

sucking tepid tea

@

the exotic

'Hayes Island Snack Bar'

fag butt Freddie

Willy wino

terrifies tourists who

wonder

whether

this

is

it.

This is it.

cold

hard

piss stained concrete

hostile architecture

St David

would not recognise his hall.