It looks like the Irish are finally fed up with me and I’m about to be flung from the top of a medieval castle, but that’s actually me cautiously easing backwards and down to kiss the Blarney Stone.
The above kiss was made after Atheist Ireland aimed a camera at me to promote their organization. It might have helped if I’d switched the order.
(via Gavin Golden)
What a bunch of Blarney.
… down to kiss the Blarney Stone.
That’s what they tell you it’s for.
I helps to get you into such a vulnerable position; after all, “If you’d just lean over these battlements so we can throw you to your death” rarely gets the level of co-operation required to … well throw people to their deaths.
An interesting aside; It’s actually called the blarney stone, because of the blarney required to get people into a position where they can be conveniently flung to destruction.
Though obviously something went wrong in this case. Satan intervened most likely; what with you being his favourite and all:-P
I’ve always wondered how hygienic that particular act is – I mean, dozens if not hundreds of people kiss it every day. What if one of them has a contagious mouth disease?
I also abraded my forehead a tiny bit against the rough stone, and left a very small drop of blood there. Who knows? If I die of Ebola and leprosy tomorrow, though, you’ll know why.
It wasn’t all that crowded, though. I was it. It was a cool gray February day, and you had to be a bit crazy to climb those narrow stone stairs and lean back like that. I felt a bit bad for the two fellows who apparently sit there all day to help tourists out and sell photographs.
I wonder what diseases you can get a-kissin’ the blarney stone. According to Tom Lehrer:
Giles got it from Daphne —
She got it from Joan
Who picked it up in County Cork
A-kissin’ the Blarney Stone.
but he doesn’t give us a clue as to what it is except that it’s something that Edith gets every spring and that she gets it from her daddy who just gives her everything.
You know the locals piss and spit on the Blarney Stone, mainly for the benefit of American tourists feverishly searching for their Irish roots?
That’s what an Irish friend told me, anyway.
That move looks like it might have been a little easier if you had been doing yoga for a while! Doing the Wheel pose (‘Urdhva Dhanurasana‘) might get you to the stone in style… =)
I’ve been a few times (whenever friends or relatives come to visit it’s one the things they want to do). I much prefer going in the colder months when there’s little to no other people around. Of course, I’ve never kissed it with PZ’s blood on it before so it looks like I’ll be making another trip pretty soon.
As a side note, I have an amazing story: I kissed the Blarney Stone and didn’t get sick. It’s crazy, isn’t it?
Hope you had a decent pint of Murphy’s for your troubles.
What is it with you and bridges!
Compare: http://www.atheist.ie/2010/02/pz-myers-in-dublin-promotes-atheist-ireland/ with http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2008/03/31/pzm_london_lg.php :)
Ha! I kissed the Blarney stone, too — years ago, on my first visit to Cork.
They say that the locals there use the blarney stone for an impromptu urinal. I hope they’re wrong.
And how did that goddamn dentist get it?
@monocotyledon, DLC
As PZ can confirm, the ‘stone’ is a few dozen feet in the air, atop a castle, in a national park guarded by the local police. Not exactly ideal as an ‘impromptu urinal’.
And its not one of those wishy-washy easy to climb castles either.
And to think, there was a crowd of religious loons down the road in the nearest Catholic church engaging in less superstitious bollocks!
I hope you crossed yourself before the upside down kissing commenced. You never know what ghastly fate might befall you if you didn’t.
Just kidding…why not do it? It’s a piece of harmless fun.
I don’t understand completely the meaning of this ritual. Is that stone some kind of God? Has ammonites on it?
People like to do crazy things with stones. Years ago I followed a ritual in Hagya Sophia (Istanbul) consisting in fingering a basalt pillar while turning 360º. It’s for healing the eyesight. And worked! Now I have zero correction in my old 5.5 dioptries eyes.
Maybe the LASEK surgery helped a little, too.
obigwang @ 16: Yeah, I remember that pillar. It’s strange how these superstitions develop.
PZ–You make a living standing in front of a class and talking. People around the world invite you to talk in front of them. Maybe the gift of gab is something you already have.
We bypassed Cork City and the Blarney Stone and got stuck in Clonakilty for three days.
When I say “stuck,” I mean “pleasantly way-laid and we would go back in a heartbeat and buy land if it weren’t for the blasphemy laws and the fact that we have no money.”
Hah. At least when YOU did it, it wasn’t pouring rain. My wife and I were there a year ago, and the only day it was totally rainy was the day we stopped at Blarny Castle.
By the way, if you’re still there, could you swing by the restaraunt at the Woolen Mills there and see if they’ve got my picture? I think I accidently left it there.
Clonakilty is a wonderful spot alright. Did you visit De Barra’s pub there?
Yeah it’s been raining here (Cork) all week but it dried up for the few hours that PZ graced Blarney. Maybe Catholic God is lulling him into a false sense of security until he gets to Belfast?
“Vee haf vays of making you talk, Herr professor. Now tell us! Ver did you put zee crackers.”
I can’t imagine that I would ever want to kiss the Blarney Stone.
The grounds of the castle are more interesting than the Blarney stone nonsense. There are lots of megalithic tombs to see so I hope your hosts showed them to you.
Isn’t that, you know, superstition? Also: I guess the glory days of gymnastics are behind you. That looks painful.
monocotyledon @ 6,
That’s how they sterilize it!
My mother did this while I was in the womb in 1968.
The ‘dolmen’ in the fairy garden? There aren’t any real prehistoric remains on the estate. There are some contrived tourist-friendly “Celtic” things though, such as the aforementioned fairy garden, a ‘sacrificial altar’, a rock supposedly containing the spirit of a witch (its one of those knobbly rocks that assumes a face) and a fake dolmen.
The castle itself really is the star of the show, although it is treated with a sort of tourist-friendly diddley-aye kitsch that a lot of the impressive history is drowned in ah-shure-beggorah nonsense. Kissing the stone itself is just a pretty unique test of mettle. Or since they installed the protective railings, a test of metal if you fall.
I approve of kissing rocks, but don’t see the need to kiss the same rocks that everyone else kisses.
Looks to me like PZ just wanted the exercise and limbering-up after all his travels. Note to self: wear shirt made of strong stuff when bending backward to kiss moldy old stones.
Leaving a little blood from the mighty forehead of Professional Poopyhead was a nice touch.
By the way, if anyone’s interested there’s a few other photos of PZ in Cork here, although mostly doing things whilst orientated vertically.
I was in Target and looking at Sarah Palin’s “Going Rogue” (don’t worry, I didn’t buy it) and thought that PZ could add a chapter to his book about his Irish visit and title it:
“Going Brogue”
The Blarney Stone incident, when PZ bends over backward to promote Atheist Ireland.
Great pictures Gavin.
I’ve kissed the Stanley Cup, which can’t be much more hygienic than the Blarney Stone, even with the Cup handlers wearing their white gloves. Anyway, no hockey related plague resulted, so unless PZed breaks out in leprachauns, I think of it as PZed strengthening his immune system.
You’re in Cork? Come to UCC, the Atheist society set up there recently!
Plus, kissing the Blarney stone is not a wise thing to do. Plenty of young fellas urinate and expectorate on it for a laugh.
Long as you didn’t slip it some tongue, you should be all right.
I carefully avoided that particular bit of Ireland whilst I was living on the island, ‘cuz I couldn’t decide if it was a quaint hornswoggle or a bioterror weapon.
Just be careful! One of my friends tasted the holy water in a font, because that’s what it looked like the people were doing, and she came down with every cold in the congregation simultaneously.
Doh! I wish I could have warned you about the Blarney Stone. I have family there who told me/ showed me video of the locals who use the thing as a pissing spot and then laugh at the tourist who kiss the thing. Maybe next time vet the site first.
Oh gawd… kissing the BS is, well, BS. It’s such a trite cliche, like eating corned beef and cabbage or dressing head to toe in bilious green on St. Patrick’s day: affectations indulged in only by American tourists who don’t know any better, and don’t realize the locals are laughing at them.