A Galway Epiphany

According to An Leabhar Beannacht (The Blessed Book), found in an old church in the 1950s and attributed to a monk in the mid-eighteenth century, there are

Seven

  Epiphanies.

The monk, supposedly one Canace (old form of Kenneth), believed these epiphanies were blends of blessed curses and cursed blessings.

Kenny, as he is irreverently known by skeptics, demonstrated he was definitely Irish; he’d have to be with the skewed logic of the above statement.

For the form presented in the new edition published in 2000 by Academic Press, the epiphanies are modernized to a certain extent, and it is claimed the original was written in Latin.

The Catholic Church has banned them as being, and I quote,

“The writings of a satanic mind posing as ecclesial.”

This could apply to a lot of the papal bulletins of late.

Whatever the case and, indeed, whatever the truth of the affair, they can, in a certain light (drunk as a skunk), seem to be instructional if not downright fucking depressing.

The first one I ever read was thus:

  Revenge

    Is

     the

      Only

       Justice.

By a series of wild coincidences, an English friend, here on a rare visit, saw this on the wall of my apartment and said dryly,

“Francis Bacon said almost the same thing.”

Which goes to show there is precious little original under the Latin sun. Or Bacon read the Epiphanies.

I kind of like the notion of Bacon poring over the Epiphanies.

Explains a lot about his wild frenzied portrait.

What the Irish in December 2018

Might consider miracles:

      1. Three days without rain.

      2. Trump to resign.

      3. A hospital bed.