Wortting is the perfect sport for recessionary times and deals with a poisonous and illegal countryside problem, writes EILEEN BATTERSBY.
WHAT EXACTLY does recessionary Ireland have in abundance, aside from debts? Grass? Yes. Horses? Yes. Protestors? Yes. Okay. But, come on, guess, it’s obvious: vast, surreal amounts of it. Look out the car window should you be driving on a motorway or along suburban roads or country lanes, almost the entire Hill of Howth, in other words, most outdoors views are dominated by it.
Look again, scan those fields. Peer into your neighbour’s neglected garden; examine the local “green” area. Observe all that yellow. That ugly diseased pornographic yellow, the noxious yellow of a witch’s brew.
See it stand, hideous in the landscape, Senecio jacobaea, ragwort or ragweed, an unwanted, poisonous plant that is scorned by all. Cattle and horses shun it unless they are starving, and this is an increasing danger with more former livery horses now living out in the fields. According to the 1936 Noxious Weeds Act, tabled for revision in 1978, ragwort is illegal in Ireland. Landowners will be summonsed for neglecting to clear it.
True to its evil-spawn nature, ragwort increases and multiples. Yet nothing is completely without merit, hope, or in this case, use. Ragwort has become the next big thing and has inspired a cult summer sport that is cheap – free, in fact – open to all ages, everywhere, and so far it has not been subjected to hidden taxes or government levies.
Ragwort pulling, an art form waiting to be discovered in 21st-century Ireland, is an experience for everyone; the environmentalists will be thrilled, as will the people whose gym memberships lapsed due to salary cuts.
The Irish countryside can be saved without a squirt of herbicide that, except for grass, kills indiscriminately. Ragwort pullers have a true sense of purpose. Ireland will rise anew; ragwort-pulling is a cure for tension, road rage and family feuds. Forget about Facebook, Twitter or Bebo, ragwort parties is the new social networking. Once you pull ragwort, you will discover a new beginning.
Few things in life, particularly at the moment, offer more satisfaction. It is easy. Imagine you are teeing up for a putt, no, a real swing. With feet slightly apart, shake that tension from your shoulders, summon up your natural aggression and then bend down and take the ragwort in both your hands, check that position, and pull firmly, in a determined way. Nothing tentative; don’t be nervous, cast aside your inhibitions.
The collective noun for ragwort-puller is wortters. They tend to burst into song. Reasons for this are not yet clear although several Harvard anthropologists are currently at work on possible theories. Plain chant remains popular as is, yikes, Neil Diamond’s back list.
Listen to the ripping and tearing sounds as the roots leave the earth, defeated and vulnerable is very gratifying. These need to be disposed of carefully, wrapped in plastic and delivered to a landfill, because burning anything in the countryside or in your garden is illegal.
Wortting is truly Shakespearean; it may make you think of mandrakes. Relax; there is nothing supernatural to fear. Ragwort has no feelings; it is nothing like a mandrake; that wonderful rending wortting sound does not resemble a human baby’s cry. The faeries of Ireland have protected the Hawthorn over the centuries. Touch a hawthorn tree at your peril. But as a faerie spokesman confirmed earlier today: “We have no interest in Ragwort, ‘tis a weed most odious.” The statement ran on for several pages and is available on the Little People website.
No, wortting is an evangelical crusade in which the good guy, the ragwort-puller, always wins.
In keeping with all human endeavour, there are downsides; well, not really downsides but every elite pursuit attracts show-offs and extremists. The show-offs are in a minority. These are wortters greedy for greatness. They attempt the impossible, to pull with each hand, simultaneously, two separate clumps. This is to be avoided. Firstly, on an aesthetic level, it is impossible. The wortter by pulling in two directions assumes the awkward silhouette of a novice water skier. Secondly, and far more seriously, it usually causes the dread plant to break off, leaving the roots in the ground and free to sprout again.
The more disturbing trend is that of the self-flagellating wortter. These exhibitionists tend to celebrate their activities by then beating themselves with the disengaged ragwort. Aside from the unseemliness of it, this makes a mess and results in the seeds being blown about to re-seed.
Ignore the self-righteous Greens who are claiming they have had to keep a wortting low profile because they are compromised by being in Government with a sub-species party. Of course the Greens claim they eat ragwort soup because “it’s organic”. No they don’t – it’s poisonous.
Wortting could well become an Olympic sport; Ireland has a chance of a gold medal without resorting to hot chilli pepper powder.
