An Irishman's Diary

Last month a judge in Britain startled a courtroom by declaring: "I don't really understand what a website is

Last month a judge in Britain startled a courtroom by declaring: "I don't really understand what a website is." Poor old judges just can't win. We expect them to be utterly impartial, effortlessly polite, infinitely patient and profoundly wise. Yet occasional lapses in their awareness of matters accorded importance by the hoi polloi are mercilessly pilloried by the tabloids, writes Michael Parsons.

ou know the sort of thing. Judge asks: "What's a hair-extension/ Pot Noodle/ Tequila shot/ Happy Meal?" Or: "Who is Elton John/ Keano/ Naomi/ Rocco?" Or: "Where is The Big Brother House/Albert Square/Ayia Napa/ Neilstown?" These "appalling gaffes" are gleefully presented as evidence that the judiciary is "out of touch", instead of incontrovertible proof of their eminent good taste.

A justice of the Supreme Court, no less, was recently criticised in a letter on this page for using an allegedly archaic vocabulary that included "plain as a pikestaff" and "doughtily". Now judges are forced to spend much of their working day communicating with people who would regard a pikestaff as a useful tool for cracking craniums. But if a judge were to address such a numbskull in contemporary street vernacular - calling him, say, a "poxy skanger' or a "scumbag" - there's no doubt the tabloids would react with fury. And, boy, would there be letters.

Language needs to evolve but, really, there are standards. So three cheers for doughty judges. Incidentally, they might consider ordering petty criminals to read the novels of Jane Austen as "punishment" for minor offences instead of condemning them to "community service". Such a measure would improve literacy, expand the hoodlums' vocabulary and reduce crime. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man who enjoys Mansfield Park is most unlikely to drink 15 pints of Bulmers, strip to the waist, go "ballistic" and hit a nightclub bouncer.

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That's the behaviour of a "muppet". Have you noticed how that word has been resurrected? The Muppet Show was a popular children's television puppet show during the late 1970s (remember Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy?), but "muppet" is now used as a term of scorn. Recent additions to the "gallery of muppets" - according to a quick whiz through the popular papers - include Jose Mourinho, Paul Wolfowitz and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Not, it must be said, for their cider-fuelled exploits.

Muppets feature prominently in the world of soccer and are frequently "gutted". That term is invariably used by pundits, managers and players when asked how they "feel" after a game. But perhaps in future we can look forward to expressions of bitter disappointment being phrased with rather more elegance. Recently, during an industrial dispute in Athlone, a Siptu official said: "The men were stomached when they were told they were being laid off". Whatever happened to working class guts? And why are nouns being used as verbs?

An expert quoted in The Irish Times a few weeks ago said: "Training a dog to toilet in a particular area of your garden requires effort from the owner". Indeed it does. She suggested: "Lead the dog to the area and give him lots of praise when he toilets there. If you catch him in the act of toileting on your lawn, say 'NO!' and lead him quickly to the designated area." Presumably if you're posh - and own a Labrador - you'll be teaching him how "to lavatory" as in: "Zebedee, you naughty boy! You've lavatoried all over Daphne's rosebed."

And don't you find the new use of "plate" intensely annoying? As in "celebrity" chef to harassed waiter: "Séamus, plate up that steamed monkfish and black olive mash for table five".

Offer someone a second helping of pudding, or another glass of sherry these days and they may well respond with "I'm good" - a frightful new Americanism intended to signal that they've "had quite enough, thank you". It is, admittedly, an improvement on the traditional Irishisms: "I'm stuffed" or "I'm full as a tick". Those who are unable to resist temptation may well need another US import: "Thanksgiving Pants". This is a new slang term for trousers with an elasticated waist to be worn while "being bad", which appears to mean over-indulging.

And have you noticed how all sorts of new words and expressions achieve common currency without you having the foggiest idea of what they mean? Like "Wi-Fi" and "camera phone"; "paradigm" and "ciabatta"; "tiger robbery" and "podcast". Not to mention the preposterous new jargon invented by the "diversity" industry. For example, have you any idea what a "heterosexist" is? If you're thinking the answer might be, "An Offaly club hurler", then by golly, you could be right. The word means an old-fashioned, unreconstructed macho man who believes that fancying a woman is "superior" to being attracted to another man. But could you blame him? If you were covered in muck after 70 minutes on a boggy hurling field, and stuck in a dressing-room fetid with the odour of wintergreen and three-day-old socks, with no hot water in the showers, wouldn't you want nothing more than a soft, feminine embrace?

Speaking of which, what on earth are we to make of young ladies "doing a Britney" when dressing up (sic) for an evening on the town? The practice takes its name from an American "pop star" who apparently ventures abroad wearing no undergarments.

You'd think she'd catch her death of a chilly evening. But it may explain why she's regularly reported to be in and out of "Rehab".