All this talk of the collapsing euro is tripe. Tripe was the standard word for an argument or thing without value, in my father's usage of the word. You'd be surprised how many aircraft are airborne tripe, how much German philosophy (borrowed from the library in English translation in pursuit of understanding 'what made them do it?') is tripe.
Disgusting tripe ended up in the kitchen boiler: The Grapes of Wrath got it; but that was nothing to The Red Room - a small misunderstanding had led me to Francoise Mallet-Joris instead of H.G.Wells - and its fate as unnatural disgusting tripe.
Here we see that the kitchen boiler is possibly the best place for all the tripe being printed in the Sunday papers about the end of the euro and European Union as we know it.
3 comments:
When I was but a little little boy, there were Tripe shops on the streets of Stockport, and, I guess, many other Northern Town. UCP Tripe Shops.
My grandfather loved it; tripe and onions in milk. I tried it once, and that was enough, and the dried Tripe I bought Pig the Pig Dog once smelt so foul I never bought it again.
It's a good word for rubbish, though, "tripe", and yes, I remember it being used much more in that way in my yoof.
I rather like "twaddle" as well, "balderdash" and "cobblers" too. Let's hear it for rubbish.
(UCP? Unwholesome Cow Product?)
There is Florentine Tripe, Elby. It is, of course, as bad as any other kind of tripe (except, of course, for the unnatural tripe which opened my, and doubtless my father's, eyes - though he was much more worldly than I understood then, as most parents are).
Stockport. Richard Cobden. So that's where you come from :)
not to mention Tripehounds
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