She was a nice wee girl, very friendly.. mind you all the same, I don’t know what her religion was. So goes the art of the cautious compliment in Belfast. This backhanded, potentially deprecating form of description is as authentically Northern Irish as the orange sash, the armoured Land Rover and your mammy’s fried soda bread. Northern Ireland is a peculiarly strange and difficult thing … Continue reading something rotten in the State of Ulster