'Trink'

"THE BEST OF MYLES" EXTRACT 4: 'TRINK'
from Myles na gCopaleen's 'Cruiskeen Lawn' column in the Irish Times (Introduction)

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The Myles na gCopaleen Central Research Bureau is working night and day on an invention that may mean the end of civilisation as we know it. It is a new kind of ink, but nothing so footling as the other kind that disappears off cheques a few hours after you have written your signature with it. No, sir, this is something bigger, and when perfected will lead to a world-wide revolution, the end of which no man can foresee. It is provisionally called 'Trink', and looks for all the world like the ordinary black ink you can buy for twopence. 'Trink', however, is a very special job. When put on paper and dried, it emits a subtle alcoholic vapour which will hang over the the document in an invisible odourless cloud for days. A person perusing such a document is surrounded by this cloud. The vapour is drawn in with the breath, condenses on the mucous tract, gradually finds its way to the stomach and is absorbed in the blood. Intoxication ensues, mild or acute, according to how much reading is done.
      Considerable difficulty has been encountered in perfecting the invention, not because of any major snag, but because our research workers emerge from the laboratory day after day in a hopeless state of inebriation and are unable to give any account of their experiments. One of our best men had had to be put away; absenteeism is rampant among others, who cannot face two days work owing to the paralysing hangover that is conferred by the first. This difficulty, however, is being taken care of. Soon a new type of gas-mask will be available and the great work will go on.
      Later, when 'Trink' has been perfected, the whole idea is to print the Irish Times with it. You will then get something more than a mere newspaper for your thruppence. You will get a lightning pick-me-up not only for yourself and your family but for everyone that travels in your 'bus. Any time you feel depressed, all you need to do is read the leading article; if you want a whole night out, get down to the small ads.
      I can see opposition: every great innovation must expect it. Vested interests, backstairs influence. The Licensed Vinter's Association will make a row; newsvendors will have to hold an excise license or possibly the Irish Times will be on sale only in hostelries; the Revenue will probably clamp a crippling tax on every copy and compel us to print under the title 'Licensed for the Sale of Intoxicating News, 6 Days'. All that will not stop us, any more than the man with the red flag stopped the inevitable triumph of the motor car. And no power on earth, remember, can compel your copy of the Irish Times to close down at ten. You can read and re-read it until two in the morning if it suits your book, and even tear it in two and give your little wife a page.

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O indeed the Friday's a rare one for the Flann.