The falseness or faking of culture for commercial purposes is not just confined to Irish matters. I was feeling like a coffee the other morning in town and thought I'd go into Café Rouge - I'd never been in one before.

So sat down, ordered a coffee and a croissant, listened to the accordion music playing under the red, white and blue bunting and waited. Along came the waitress with the food and drink and, as she put it down, she smiled and said "Bon appetit". Without thinking, I replied with some pleasantry in French - thinking she was French. She looked embarrassed and said, "Oh, I can't speak French - we're just told to say 'Bon Appetit'".

So what's with the French schtick? Or the Oirish schtick? Or Ye Olde English schtick, for that matter. Just serve up good coffee and croissants, or good Irish stout, or good roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and be yourself.

It' not just plastic Paddy - it's plastic René - or plastic anything that sits falsely and tries to pretend it's something it's not. Surely that's the point of EB's song.