FOR THOSE ABOUT TO WALK: we shan't miss you

Thought processes of ministers (left to right) as seen live on TV at 10am this morning:

Martin Cullen: Jaysus I never noticed the bald spot at the back of his head. Wouldye believe it? Wha- what's that? Oh yeah, another clapping bit. All I ever do is clap. Clap clap clap. Suppose it beats real work. Wonder if I could convert them voting machines into ATMs or something...

John Gormless: Wahey! Look at me up here with the big boys. I love real politics. Beats the shit out of saving the planet...

Bertie: Look at yis, ye durty little shitebags. Feckin journalists. Bunch of questioney eh eh little hooers. Could yis noh turn a blind eye or sumtin, eh point is I saved all of yis from yourselves ye spanners. And look at that fat bastard eh Cowen licking his lips. Well I'm de one goin t'Merica so ye can all go fuck off while I'm having de laff at deh Funderland... Disneyland... dat place wit de dolphins...

Brian Lenihan: If that fat bastard Cowen thinks for one second...

Bull Cowen: Oh for the love of all that is holy in the midlands...will you get t'the point. How long do I have to wait before somebody finally pushes you the fuck out of here...

Forget It

I was going to write a post about who pissed off I am with the inadequacies of our current government with their lack of culpability and the downright Hammer-esque "can't touch this" attitude. Honestly I got so stressed while writing the first paragraph that I had to stop, so here's a different tack :

Vincent Browne: I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?
Naive member of public: You could say that.
Vincent: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he's expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate?
NMP: No.
Vincent: Why not?
NMP: 'Cause I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.
Vincent: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. Like a splinter in your mind -- driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?
NMP: Our government?
Vincent: Do you want to know what it is?
[NMP nods his head.]
Miriam: Our government is everywhere, it is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, or when go to church or when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
NMP: What truth?
Vincent: That you are a slave. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind. [long pause, sighs] Unfortunately, no one can be told what our government is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back.
[In his left hand, Vincent shows a blue pill.]
Vincent: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. [a red pill is shown in his other hand] You take the red pill and you stay in HSE-land and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Remember -- all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.


Note: Battles incidentally rock and play Vicar St on May 15th

The Green Scene

I'm one of the gullible fools who voted in the Green Party into government last year. I'm far from happy. The insistence on hiding behind the Mahon Tribunal and refusing to comment on Bertie's shenanigans is grating. Cast your mind back if you will to the heady days of Gormley, Ryan and Sargent in opposition - in the run up to the election last year they were one of the most vociferous voices against Bertie & his cronies. I distinctly remember phrases like "the most corrupt party in western Europe" being slung across the Dail floor, but now all we're hearing is how cabbage is in season now and is a great source of vitamin whogivesafuck (Trevor Sargent press release from yesterday).

I heard 'Minister for Copper Wire Telecoms' Eamon Ryan on Matt Cooper yesterday evening and it was close to denial. He refused to be drawn on the simple question of whether or not he believed Bertie's evidence. "I'm not in a position to give you my opinion on every news story that pops up without knowing the full facts" he said, like this was some story about a dog with five legs or something. It's a "news story" that effects the very moral fibre of democracy in this country! I'm sorry Eamon, but no amount of energy saving lightbulbs or extra insulation in new build housing will get you off the hook for being complicit in the biggest scandal in Irish politics since Charlie robbed money from his good friend Brian Lenihan's liver transplant fund to buy more French shirts.

Grow a spine - whether through solar power or whatever means necessary - and do the right thing.

Wasting of government mindspace

Donie Cassidy: Minister for Transport, Toytown

Leader of the Seanad, and regular contributor of rubbish Donie Cassidy believes we should put a 80km/ph speed limit on foreign drivers. That includes immigrants, migrants, tourists and anyone who doesn't happen to be from Ireland. Apparently we should also look at changing the side of the road we drive on, because that's really easy to do. Sure we could alternate for a while to get a feeling for it before we made the move to the right permanently.

We can't even regulate the existing bloody limit, how does he think we could police a whole seperate limit for 10% of the population? Maybe we should microchip all the foreigners when they enter, then the gardai's "radars" could tell them if an approaching car was controlled by a feckless foreigner. All we'd have to do is change the constitution in a few places, sure we could do that the same day we're doing that thing about Lisbon - lash it all in together, confuse people. it works.

Superbowl of cereal

Big dail debate on cystic fibrosis following weeks of media uproar - where is Mary Harney? At the superbowl, and that's not on official business either. No fucking wonder we're all dying on trollies.

The Drug Problem

Isn't it great to see middle Ireland's moral outcry over the recent spate of dodgy cocaine deaths? You can just see all the Range Rover-driving parents of south Dublin crying out about the druggies, unaware that Fionnán and Eva are burning holes in their noses with Daddy's pocket money. See reading a front page spread about a model that died tragically really takes it home to those who prefer to ignore what they see around them.

The problem with all the sudden publicity is that the outcome of all the 'Primetime Investigates’ shows, tabloid feeding frenzies and broadsheet editorials will be much the same as the solution to the heroin epidemic of the 80's/90's: an ironically quick fix. Patch it up and wait for it to explode again. The government policy for dealing with the heroin problem in Ireland was a widespread methadone treatment programme which admittedly did help drive down drug-related personal crime. But the problem was (and still is) that there were no resources given to treatment centres, or to the social reasons why people become addicts. The current number of residential beds available in Dublin to an estimated 14,500 heroin addicts is a shockingly small 200.

So imagine a heroin addict who has a revelation one day and decides to go clean. He calls into a treatment centre and is told that he'll have to wait about a year before a bed becomes available. What chance does this fella have? None. Well maybe a slight one because there's a massive 28 detox beds too. Wexford Town has one of the highest per-capita heroin addictions in the country, yet to receive methadone a user has to travel to Waterford City. This is due to "respectable" pharmacies that would rather flog Vitamin C tablets and self-tanner than actual medicine. Now what happens when the gardai (who have been blatantly ignoring the issue) start to clamp down on cocaine users - they'll go looking for beds that aren't there too.

From what I saw of the Primetime documentary last night it was another gloriously spurned chance to investigate the social issues that surround drug addiction, and instead a focus on the gangs and the mules that are flooding our country with coke. Why does no-one ever look at the societal reasons: we're a cocky, self-sure and young nation with money to burn and fun to be had? Or the community issues, where the easiest way to forget the shitbox you live in is to get high and have fun. To address the problems you have to look at the cause first and the result last.

But sure what do I know, I'm not a TD who needs to win votes and not embarrass the parents who can give them.

Nothing is sacred

It's surely gone too far now. I was able to deal with following:

• The A&E waiting times
• The overcrowded hospitals
  
• The overcrowded prisons
• The third-rate communications infrastructure
• The third-rate transport infrastructure
• The gross overspending
• The wearing of yellow trousers at G8 summits
• The undelivered election promises
• The Millenium Spire not being built in time
• The Millenium clock being a criminal waste of money
• The LUAS not being connected
• The e-voting machines that are unused and still costing us money
• The pay rises
• The budget cuts
• The stamp duty that I paid last year as a first time buyer
• The Garda corruption
  
• The endless tribunals
• The cover ups at tribunals

But this, news that a government official 'advised' RTE to not let Professor James Crown (one of the more outspoken critics of the health service) appear on the Late Late on Saturday night amounts to state censorship. It is too far. The rest of the above can be explained away as results of what happens when you let a bunch of muppets take the reigns of a country. Add censorship to the mix and we are now no better than North Korea, Belarus or a whole hose of other poxy countries, run by despots running under the flag of communism and promise of lots of square buildings. Atleast we don't have any square buildings...

What next: sexiest man in Ireland?

Ireland's very own personal fund manager Brian Cowen (pictured left, hanging tight with his old homie Arafat) has turned up in the lastest MRBI poll as Ireland' most popular politician. Even more than Bertie.

Than Bertie.

Bertie!!

Now I know that Fianna Fail have it all planned out for the Bull to take the reigns (ironic, no?) post Bertie, but I bet he's going fucking mental up in Drumcondra. He escaped Bertiegate parts 1 and 2, and how many other controversies over the last 10 years, and finally is falling to a guy who lets be honest looks like someone's been hitting him in the face with a bar of soap inside a towel. Swollen, not bruised.

Ah Noel, you didn't...

Not much to say here as we are all aware of poor oul' Noel's shortcomings as a minister. Sure wasn't it he - who as Minister for Communications - when criticized over broadband rollout was heard to say "I am concerned that some commentators overplay the so-called 'broadband failure' in Ireland. They risk unnecessarily damaging Ireland's international reputation."

No you idiotic fucktard, it's you and your half-witted cronies who are unnecessarily damaging Ireland's international reputation; well at least whats left of it after Bertie wore those yellow trousers to a G8 summit.