Discursive essay- Deaglan Donnachy
During the London Olympics, when excited sports fanatics (and their unfortunate relatives) flooded through the arrival gates of nearly all British airports and engaged in such thrilling activities as taking pictures of red phone boxes and riding the bus, it came to my attention (and the attention of many other British citizens, I dare say), that many tourists arrive in the U.K. with certain erroneous expectations of what awaits them.
The disappointment is evident on tourists' faces as they travel through the country, discovering that the queen does not walk her corgis up The Mall, our policemen will very rarely (if ever) say “'Allo, 'allo,” and that most of us will not ask a stranger in for a cup of tea and a biscuit when you arrive on our doorstep. That said, however, nothing really disappoints a tourist more than a visit to the mysterious land of Scotland.
Having lived in Scotland for all of my 15 years, I have come to believe that I am an expert in all things Scottish, and therefore I think it is only right that I help the youth of America (and elsewhere) obtain a more realistic view of what to expect when visiting “up North.” You see, as amusing as I may find him, Groundskeeper Willie from “The Simpsons” is not an accurate representation of a Scottish citizen. At all. A good starting place in Scottish culture, I believe, is haggis. Now, as much as I love to tell foreigners that haggis live in the highlands and that their front legs are shorter than their back in order to help them cling to the hills, I must confess that it isn't true. Sorry. In fact, haggis is a ghastly concoction of oatmeal, onions, pepper, suet, and, oh yes, sheep organs. That's right, haggis includes sheep's stomach, heart, liver, lungs, and windpipe. This delightful dish is normally served on Robert Burn's Night, when we all stand around in kilts and sing to it. (I'm not even joking.)
This brings me to the subject of kilts. Michael McIntyre...