WHEN IS A MAN DRUNK?

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 83, Issue 36, 13 February 1939, Page 3

WHEN IS A MAN DRUNK?

Some Experiments in “Blither” Language

JT appears it is very difficult to answer the question—“ When is a man drunk?” for there are so many kinds of inebriety and its symptoms vary with the individual carouser. As for the other sex—well—ask a policeman, or the lockup keeper, writes “Norbell” in “Life,” the Australian digest of reading. A man may be drunk, tipsy, intoxicated, inebrious in his cups, temulent, fuddled, mellow, cut, boosy, fou, fresh, merry, elevated, flush, flustered disguised, groggy, beery, topheavy, potulent, glorious, potulent, overcome, overtaken, whittled, screwed, tight, primed, corned, raddled, sewed up, lushy, nappy, muddled, muzzy, . obfuscated, maudlin, crapulous, dead drunk, drunk as a piper, a fiddler, a lord, Chloe an owl, a wheelbarrow, or as drunk as David’s sow—all these definitions and others are supplied in the incomparable thesaurus of Peter Mark Roget, M.D., F.R.S. Then, of course, Australians—particularly the Diggers—had: lit-up, oiled, soused, sozzled, shick, or shikker (Yiddish this one), blithered, pickled, stewed, tanked, potty, cashed up, shot, full of soup, on his ear, inked and inky poo, blotto, moler, squiffy slewed, bottled, three-sheets-in-the-wind, half seas over, addled, corned, under the weather, up the pole, dead to the world, blue, blind, paralytic, stewed, stung, tonicked, sprung, boxed, plastered full, and many more. How can even a medical expert select the particular variety of drunkenness that afflicts an erring brother submitted for inspection and diagnosis? The police have verbal tests and traps, of course, for the evildoer—particularly the evil-doing motor driver. I always thought that the fairly rapid utterances of the words: “gig whip,” test—even for a perfectly sober man—but according to the Sydney correspondent of the Melbourne Age, there are surer criteria. He says:— If you are inclined to be bibulous and are thinking of taking a motor trip to this State, practise saying “British six times in succession, was a crucial Constitution” and “Anaesthetist” in your spare moments between drinks. If you can say those words clearly without blinking you are sure of getting home all right without detention. A doctor who had applied that test to a man who had been stopped by the police who had charged him with driving whilst under the influence of liquor, declared that the defendant was obslutely proficient in his

tion. So the constable said, “Oh!” the magistrate said “Um!” and the defendant said ‘ British Constitution” with perfect intonation, and was told to go his way, there was nothing against him. It appears that these words are accepted more or less as’ part of the British Pharmacopaeia, and quite a number of people, now that they have learned so much from this great book which hitherto they knew contained the secrets of strange writing they found on doctors’ prescriptions, are turning over their dictionaries and practising at every moment the correct pronunciation. It appears that intoxicating liquor has a peculiar way of knocking “t’s” out of any word, and after the tenth round “British Constitution” becomes “Brissh Conshushun.” One bad case declares that he tried going on a diet of tea, and found that he could not say “s’s,” and pronounced the two words “Britith Conthitution.” But we have teachers here who say that by a little drilling correct speech can be obtained, and it will not be surprising to see professors advertising “To Motorists: Try Our Course of ‘British Constitution’ and ‘Anaesthetist.’ Full course, 10/6. Half the price of a fine. Send stamped envelope for pamphlet containing testimonials.”

The president of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union put the question which heads this article to the delegates at a convention held in Melbourne but she did not essay an answer to it herself.

Even amongst the authorities, she said, there was a wide difference of opinion on that point, and the answer varied with the locality. For instance, ■in Victoria, a man was judged intoxicated when he could not name the last ten winners of the Melbourne Cup, or define pragmatism in fifteen words. In Brisbane, on the other hand, a man was deemed to be drunk only when he acknowledged it himself. When he fell down, in Sydney, and could not get up again the verdict was against him. Even then it was sometimes claimed that he was not “under the influence,” and it seemed that the only real test was when he tried to kiss the traffic policeman. “And then,” the president hastened to add, “it is recognised that he really is drunk.” It may be that she is right, for men do remarkable things when drunk—or merely blotto, etc. In his just-published book, “Night Lights,” Seymour Hicks fathers this

yarn on to George Robey, the famous comedian:— A man who was extremely drunk sat down on a broken tumbler and cut himself severely on that part of his anatomy where so many people keep their brains. He was in great paih and left the party he was at very hurriedly. On arriving home he staggered to his dressing-room, took off his clothes, and anxiously surveyed the damage he had sustained in the looking-glass. His decision as to the best remedy for his injuries was quickly made, and getting a large piece of sticking-plaster he hastened to cut it into strips to place upon the injured part. Having done so he went contentedly to bed. The next morning his wife said: “You were very late last night, weren't you, Charles. “I was, I'm afraid,” said the somewhat sheepish Charles. “And,” continued the wife, “if I am not mistaken you were somewhat inebriated. my dear.” “Why do you say that, sweetheart?” “Well, darling, you must have been, because I went into your dressing-room this morning and you had stuck strips of sticking plaster all over the lower part of the looking-glass!”