Funny Old World, — November 14, 2009 9:58 — 0 Comments

Queen Macha’s Vengance

THE VENGEANCE OF QUEEN MACHA

 

(‘Assertive’ tune, – Maids when you’re young, never wed an oul’ man.)

(enter from wings, ask a few to repeat after you)

 

Liberation for the Sisters!

 

Say it, Sister (Louder!)

 

Well, a word of explanation first. Queen Macha stamped her authority from Armagh a few hundred years before Cuchullen. Armagh is called after her – Ard Macha in Irish, the Height of Macha. Even Navan Fort outside Armagh was called Emain Macha in Irish, meaning the Twins of Macha. And there’s a story there – that men forced Macha to race on foot against their horses when she was in the last stages of pregnancy, and after the race she fell down in labour so that her twins had to be cut from her womb.

 

The result was Macha’s famous curse on the Ulster warriors, which you’ll hear in a minute.

 

Now the next act takes the form of a rally for women where you’re told how to respond, so could I ask both men and women to get into the spirit of it – as if you were all women at the rally – and all together you can give the responses.

 

‘Sisters, you all know me, Queen Macha. 

 

But I don’t want titles, not Your Majesty nor Your Royal Highness, no, call me by the most glorious title of all – call me Sister. What do you call me, Sisters?

 

(Sister)

 

Let me hear it,

 

Sisters – Liberation for the Sisters…

 

I was Queen because my husband was King. When he died, as you know, his male cousins moved in to seize the throne, so I gathered an army, defeated them and established myself as Queen in my own right. So I am the first woman to have broken with the tradition of male succession – hopefully for good! 

 

Give it to me –

 

Liberation for the Sisters… 

 

I curse all men. Because of what they did to me in the last stages of pregnancy, when my two twins had to be cut out of my belly. But I’ll have my revenge, for I have cursed the Ulstermen that they themselves will suffer the pains of childbirth for five days every time Ulster is under attack. 

 

Let me hear it – a curse on all men..

 

You are looking at an angry woman. 

 

What are you looking at, Sisters?

 

(Louder –

 

An angry woman, Sister! –

 

what are you looking at?) 

 

Yes, you are looking at the first feminist of all time.

 

But we must be subtle, Sisters. We need to talk about equality for men and women, a fair deal for all. But you know the real goal – Women rule the earth. 

 

What’s the real goal, sisters? 

 

(Women rule the earth, Sister.)

 

So stand firm. No thinking for yourselves. The leader tells you what to think. This is not about being fair – it’s about getting revenge –

 

What is it about, Sisters..?

 

Be on your guard, then. Other brands of feminism may come after me, but do not listen to them. You must not admit any good qualities in men, they’re all pigs, dogs, bulls, savages, brutes. Steel yourselves against the wiles of the enemy, sisters.  

 

And here’s our song…


(Air: Fuigfidh mis’ and baile seo)

 

Come all you angry sisters and we’ll dance our dance of freedom

We’ll trample on these bulldogs, oh they’ll squeal but we’ll never heed them

Kick out your foot, leap up an’ put the other one down like a bombshell

We’ll dance upon their genitals – don’t stilettos do the job well

 

From time began, the curse of man has kept us in cruel oppression

We’ve suffered enough, it’s time to be tough and batter them back with aggression

Attack with your mop, do a jig while you whop, then strangle with strings of an apron

Was ever a dance as much fun as this chance to enhance the new meaning of matron.

 

May they screech and wail with childbirth pain and botchy Caesarean patchin’

May the scum have warts and lumpy farts an’ scabies to keep them scratchin’

Castrate these yobs, my curse on the slobs, there’s nothin’ we need be afraid of.

Sure, slugs and snails and puppy-dogs tails we know is what males are made of.

 

Moses said An eye for an eye, so vengeance is in the Bible

We’ll get our revenge for years of tears an’ slavin’ an’ mere survival

The days of men will be numbered when we dance on their big baboon bones

Come, sisters and dance our sisterly dance, we’ll tango upon their tombstones

 

(repeat last line)

 

… more later …

 

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