…but not too earnest. Not in Ireland, anyway. No one likes an honest-to-God fella for more than a few minutes.
At first, this humble yokel may appear a breath of fresh air, but it isn’t too long before their folksy wholesomeness grates. The very fibre of your cynical worldweary soul is irked by their happy-go-lucky sure-isn’t-it-all-great outlook.
It may take a few minutes, perhaps as much as an hour… dammit, weeks may pass, but be assured, the moment arises when you find yourself inexplicably sharpening a knife against a whetstone, eyeing this uber-positive do-gooder from beneath your hairy eyebrows, jaw set in grim determination, as he smiles blithely whilst telling you how great everything is…
Ah, indeed. As Jesus put it, Happy are those who are yet to enter the Camel’s Needle through the Eyes of Heaven. And there might have been something there about a Kingdom also. A Kerry monk’s addition to the sacred text, perhaps. Ahem.