|  | What follows is a guide to the complexities of the Scottish language
    (or dialect, whatever you will) which I came across scribbled on
    some sheets of A4 in the back of Morton's In Search of Scotland
    which I got from Voltaire and Rousseau in the dear, green place.
    It claims to be a guide for travellers. some of it is obscure, so
    perhaps it was intended for a specific group of travellers.
    
    
                              THE GUILD AULD TONGUE
        
        
        
        D'ye want a sook o' ma lolly?
        	A phrase to be used when offering a local a suck on a 
        lollipop. The adult male traveller should, however, take care 
        when selecting this approach to strangers as it is open to 
        liberal interpretation.
        
        Doo yoo speek English?
        	It is unlikely that this phrase will illcit anything 
        other than a guffaw, a skelp (sic) "roond the lug" or a cry of 
        "Yinglish basterd!" but it may be resorted to in extremis.
        
        It's a braw, bricht, moonlicht nicht the nicht.
        	Evenin' all. Phrase immortalised by McTavish of Dock 
        Green on the 1960s polis programme. Should normally procede a 
        less formal enquiry such as example 1.
        
        Stop Yer Ticklin' Jock.
        	Should be used if example 1 is misinterpreted, and the 
        tickle ickle ickling is getting so intense that a sticky mess 
        could result.
        
        Fower pints o' heavy 'n' three Babychams.
        	Standard phrase to be used by a party of seven in cheery 
        inns, friendly hostelries or anywhere in Glasgow.
        
        Shut yer face pal, ahm frae Glasgae, sae stetchat!
        	Indicative of a defensive posture on the part of the 
        cornered traveller trying to convince hostile Jockies that he too 
        is of their ilk by writing his name on someone's forehead with 
        indelible ink, broken beer glass etc.
        
        The coachie copped his whack. 
        	My postillion has been struck by lightning.
        
       
                                Lexicon Scotticon
        
        
        You don't come the pickle with the onion
        	You don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the 
        wind, you don't pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger, and you 
        don't mess around with Slim.
        
        The Devil's Intestines
        	A term for the Great Highland Bagpipes, though the origin 
        of the phrase is obscure.
        
        C'Wa' Wi' Tha' 
        	This Gaelic looking phrase is in fact just good old 
        Scots, laced with plenty of apostrophes. It can be rendered in 
        various ways, most of them not useful to the traveller unless he 
        be fleet of foot. "Sod that for a game of soldiers" could be 
        usefully substituted' though this does not, of course, preserve 
        the original apostrophisation.
        
        Gan' Awa' Johnny
        	Go away Johnny. Not in fact a use of the imperative, more 
        a cry of disbelieve, scorn, exasperation etc.
     
                                    Scotia!
                                 As She Is Spak
        
        
        See me? See mince? I hate mince!
        The motto of the newly formed Veggie Soc of Scotland. The phrase 
        was originally part of a children's game in which vast quantities 
        of nourishing food were thrown about the kitchen in a seies of 
        tantrums. The correct, or traditional response is "Wait till yer 
        Dad gets hame, ye wee bugger." In recent years the phrase has 
        gained a wider currency, and undergone many variations as new 
        types of food are foisted on an unsuspecting population, such as 
        "See me? See e? I hate food additives."
        
        Muckle Nourice
        A nourice is any kindly person of a pleasant disposition, more 
        specifically someone involved in health care. A possible 
        equivalence would be nurse, as here too there is no suggestion of 
        pregnancy. The only kind of wet nourice we are familiar with is 
        one who has not yet found the towels. It is therefore logical 
        that a muckle nourice is not a small one, whereas a wee nourice 
        is one involved in urology.
        
        A huffty
        Often mistaken for a noun, as in "A gaed tae the Pakie Shop for 
        the messages, but a' a got was a huffty, an a duffyin tae!" 
        (Which introduces the wonderful phrases "The messages", which are 
        provisions, not vague attempts at communication; "The Pakie 
        Shop", a shop where things are stored in boxes [During the Long 
        Hot Summer of Riots some years ago a brave journalist went off to 
        Glasgow to discover why there were no riots there, despite the 
        presence of Blacks, Asians, Women and other marginalised groups. 
        The brilliant reply was that "Oor Blacks are nae as black as your 
        Blacks", reflecting the fact that the further away from the Tory 
        Heartland one travels the deeper and wider the xxxx becomes.] "A 
        huffty" is a verbal form, expressing compulsion.
        
        On the Broo
        A corruption of "On the Bureau". Not in fact the place where 
        people go who are "in a huff" (Cf. and contrast previous entry) 
        to better display their ill-humour, but a place where people go 
        who are reliant on the State for their very existence, and 
        subsist on the meagre hand-outs available from the Party that 
        cares (sic).
        
        A'll jist rin doon fer a donut
        Of limited usage, but may be useful in the Hyndland district of 
        Glasgow. It concerns donutomania, which is rife in those parts, 
        and the local authority's provision of a clinic for those with 
        this unfortunate habit. Tourists may be taken to laugh at the 
        inmates.
        
      
                               Scotland The What?
        
        As the lights go out throughout what was once known as Central 
        Europe at the prospect of life without the Yankee Bomb, without 
        the Yankee Dollar and without the American Dream, we must add to 
        the wails and ululations our own voice, our own cries of grief, 
        expressing in the traditional forms that readers of this 
        news-letter (Who?) hold close to their bosom, such as it might 
        be, our sadness at the terrible loss we have suffered.
        
                    Coronach Edhithe Rubha na-sgair Sputnikov
          The Red Editor's Lament for the Loss of his Fellow Travellers
        
                     Nae mair, nae mair, nae mair MacWinkie
                     Till daws the great day o' doom and mournin'
                     MacWinkie is gane nae mair returnin'
        
                     Nae mair will he walk by Clyde's bonnie banks
                     Nor roond by the jams o' Loch Lomond
        	     For MacWinkie is gane tae a far hotter place
        	     Whaur his skin will gae red, raw and wrinkled
        
        	     Bit the simmer will come wi' the floors a' perfumin'
                     An' the hills will ring wi' oor lauchin'
                     An' the tears will blin' oor een
                     At Glomach's roarin' linn
                     Whaur apostrophes are used wi' abandon
        
        	     For his bonnie, bristlin' cheekies
        	     Will never more be seen
        	     Mangst the hazels o' green Inverarnan
        	     An' he'll tak the aeriplane
        	     Wi' his auld Eyetie mammie
        	     An' we'll miss him up in the Hielans
        	     For we an' MacWinkie will never meet again
        	     By the bonnie, bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond
        
        
        Now that we are all well versed (weel versit) with the vagaries 
        of the Guid Auld Tongue and steepit in the traditional forms of 
        Scottish oral literature (The Glasgow Dentists' Review, etc.)
        I feel that no glossary of the former work is needed. It reads 
        better in the original Gaelic (pace those who detect Lady Nairn 
        and her companions in the background) where our eponymous heroes 
        are rendered as MacUinchui and an Nourhis Mor. Add a skirl or two 
        of the Devil's Intestines in the background and it'd fair mak you 
        greet.
        
                           Scotland, The Truth At Last
                         Or, Will It Snow, Lassie, Snow?
        
        Visas
        Visas are not normally required for entry to the Frozen Land of
        Milk and Honey. There are these exceptions:
        	Southerners from the Soft Areas -
        		Anywhere in  Southern England, incl. Cheshire,
        		Harrogate and Richmond in Yorkshire
        		Durham, York and North Shields (An anomaly
        			soon to be fixed)
        	Tories (Party Cards not usually needed as proof, the
        		Mark of Cain on the forehead is enough, as are
        		strings of pearls, twin-sets and a first name
        		shared with a Cabinet Minister [Leon, Nigel etc])
        	Namby Pambies
        
        Currency
        There is little need for any currency conversion. The shiny, 
        round, yellow things we use down here are acceptable, but you
        will probably receive from the Scots the old green, rippy stuff 
        and you should refer to these as "queds", as in "Gi' us a qued, 
        wull ye? Ah've nae money fur the bus." Be prepared to barter.
        
        Driving
        Driving starts out on the normal side, but this soon becomes 
        irrelevant as there is only one side to the road, developed by
        the Gael less as a quaint tourist attraction or death trap than 
        an attempt at the negation of Euclidian geometry.
        
        Jokes
        These are to be avoided, especially ones about kilts, haggis and 
        the General Election results. The Scots do have a sense of 
        humour, it is, however, cloaked in centuries of insularity and 
        Calvinist dogma. An example would be
        	"The Meenester gaed oot for a cairry oot, and cam
        	 hame again sober."
        Whilst at first glance lacking a certain sparkle, this is 
        considered the height of wit, and can be used with impunity.
        
        Americans
        There are Americans in Scotland. These are to be avoided, 
        especially ones who want to talk about kilts, haggis and the 
        General Election results.   
        
        Weather
        Ho ho ho, ha ha ha, tee hee hee.
        
 | 
|  |     Re .0: What you wrote about Scottish culture, traditions, kilts,
    etc... is essentially correct and historically true with one exception:
    The Highland Scots were never illiterate: They came from Ireland
    in the 8th and 9th century with their literature as well as with
    their tongue. Over the centuries, poetry, songs and music were written
    which became distinct from (though related to) Irish ones. Most
    of that was lost because not all was written (cf the way the
    piobareachd music was transmitted - orally - ) and during several
    centuries, the Scottish kings deliberately maintained the Highlands
    in a state of anarchy after they destroyed the lordship of the isles
    simply because they were not powerful enough to rule and police
    the country, but, with the help of their allies (Campbells, Gordons,
    etc...), were able to forbid any local authority to appear: in that
    way they are directly responsible for the appearance of the so-called
    "wild hielandmen" because the anarchy fostered the late clan system,
    the economy of the cattle raids and the state of ever lasting inter-
    clan warfare which predominated from the 15th to the 18th century.
    (the instructions of James VI for the education of his eldest son
    -who died before him- made differences between the lowlanders who
    were to be treated according to the law, the highlanders, who were
    to be dealt with by treaties when you couldn't crush them, and the
    islanders who were "savages" unfit for civilised behaviour and to
    be treated as "wild beasts" - I'm quoting -). Now most of what remains
    of the highland culture can be found mostly in the West in the part
    of the folklore that dates back to before the forfeiture of the
    lordship of the isles (1493 or 1498 if my recollections are correct,
    which I wouldn't swear). Some books also survived although they
    are very scarce.
    Re .2: The portrait you're refering to is of George IV, not George
    III and was made during his visit to Edinburgh in 1824
    			Denis.
            
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