Some phrases in the English language become very annoying after a while.

They begin as cute, even devastating, responses to awkward situations. The purpose of them is to confer a powerful air of superiority on the user.

One such phrase is: “What part of ‘No’ don’t you understand?”

All such sayings start life as carefully crafted one-liners by wags in the press, usually half-decent writers, or cerebral contributors to those erudite TV panel shows. An osmotic process ensures they are swiftly deployed by every journalist, editor and media performer in the land.

Then, following a brief moment of triumph, they fade away, almost as quickly as they appeared. They have turned into cliche, and real writers know they are now virtually unusable … by them, at least.

But that’s not the end of it. Ordinary, non-media people pick them up as smart things to say when pressed. Endless TV vox pop interviews — popular because they don’t have to be paid for — are now filled with the dreaded words: “What part of ‘No’ don’t they understand?”

The Irish “No” vote in the EU referendum on Friday has resurrected this tired old bit of phraseology. It’s all over the newspapers again. Even hoary TV commmentators are using it — usually as a quote from someone else to give themselves deniability. The WPONDYU challenge is having its day in the sun.

Have we at Syntagma ever used it? Once or twice a moon or two ago. The problem with it is that it’s rather authoritarian. If someone barks it at you, you’ll know what I mean. It conjures up a particularly abusive school master or a militant feminist responding to an idle pass.

As a public service I have carefully crafted a witty response to What part of “No” don’t you understand? Here it is:

“It’s the ‘N’ that puzzles me. It gets it off to a very poor start.”

Okay, it’s not Oscar Wilde, but then I have nothing to declare but my lack of genius.

We have a new policy here at Syntagma not to post on April 1st because whatever we write our readers are going to unpack it for the catch / joke / scam.

Of course I have to post today to tell you about the new policy, and you may think that’s a bit of an April Fool situation in itself.

The fact is, you can’t win on April 1st. It’s like being overshadowed by a dark angel.

Look up now and you may just see it.

A man turns up at a small hotel for a night’s stay. He speaks urgently to the landlady and says he’s allergic to apples. “Please don’t serve me apples,” he asks.

“I promise you’ll get no apples here,” she replies.

That evening the man is tucking into dessert which is described as fruit pie. To his horror he suddenly feels very ill.

“You promised me no apples,” he cries out to the landlady.

“It’s not apples,” she says, as his head doubles in size, his lips turn blue and he goes into acute anaphylactic shock. “It’s apple pie.”

Now consider the ongoing saga of the European Constitution — newly renamed an “Amending Treaty” despite being 98 percent the same as the constitution. British Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, made a manifesto promise that the British people would get a referendum on it. He has reneged on that promise because he knows he would lose by a very big margin.

The promise referred to a constitution, he says, and the treaty is no longer a constitution.

The original document has been shuffled around a bit, as you would a deck of cards, some cosmetic stuff has been removed, and the name changed.

It’s not a constitution, claims Brown. Sure, it’s constitution pie.

A few moments ago there was an enormous racket outside Syntagma Towers. People passing were looking up in the sky as if a giant asteroid was about to hit us.

I rushed outside with the new camera (12X zoom) and found our police helicopter hovering directly above our little haven of peace.

Darn, I thought, they’ve caught up with us at last.

I’m now hoping it was just a training exercise, or maybe a criminal gang was hiding in a neighbour’s garden.

It’s gone now. We live to fight another day.