Clan meeting in Georgia. Scottish clan, that is.
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There was haggis to eat (or throw up, depending on your taste), "music", dancing, and other assorted Caledonian crapola. Festival-goers swarmed their ancestral clan tents: over here the Montgomeries, over there the Lachlans and the Stuarts and on and on. For me, the fun part was listening to these people whose families have been here for three or four hundred years prattle on about just how authentically Scottish they were. IMHO, after this amount of time has passed, you're about as Scottish as my left hemmorhoid. Listen up, Sparky: you're American. Dressing in all the Celtic clobber available whilst cabering the caber, hauling the heavy hammer, or shoving the sheaf doesn't change this basic fact.
One other bizarre thing. This event took place in Stone Mountain, Georgia. A suburb of Atlanta, Stone Mountain is notorious as the birthplace of the Georgia Ku Klux Klan. Dipshit robed racists used to hold cross burnings here every Friday night up till about 1970 or so, no kidding. But with my attending this Highland Games gathering, I can actually say I was at a "clan meeting in Stone Mountain", and not mean it in a bad way. Weird, eh?
1 Comments:
I know of someone called Sparky, he lives in Edingburgh, talks (or types actually) with a Jock dialect - but is actually fro Ireland . . . . . . . .
You go figure THAT shit out!
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