So, I’ve not too much to say while I’m smothered with a persistent cold which refuses all efforts to kill it off (before it does the same to me). The fact that it took me four attempts to write that one sentence pretty much indicates where my head is at now (somewhere between a rock and a hard place, the rock pounding me repeatedly between the eyes). Do I feel sorry for myself? Oh yes I do. Will I compensate for that by lying in bed, smartphone in hand, reviewing saved items in the wish lists on my Amazon app with the intention of some self-pitying retail therapy? Oh yes I will.
(I believe this is known as a first world problem. I believe I don’t give a hairy rat’s ass. I believe I’ll feel guilty about that later. I believe that opening a large cardboard package in five days’ time will bury that guilt. I believe I can fly… That could be the pills talking).
Anyhooo, on to the latest shenanigans in Irish politics. I’ve already discussed the Labour Party’s cynical selection of Sinn Féin critic Maíria Cahill as their candidate in an upcoming “election” to the so-called Industrial and Commercial Panel of Seanad Éireann (please don’t ask me to fully explain the upper house of the Irish legislature to you, dear overseas’ readers, as it defies any form of rational understanding. For folks in the United States, just imagine a giant pork barrel of would-be-politicos, special interests and lobbyists on a federal paycheck and you get the idea. Actually that pretty much just described the US senate too. Though at least you guys get to vote those people in. We merely observe the packing of the barrel from the outside, faces pressed up against the glass.
“Please, sir, can I have some more…?”
Ok, that could be the pills again…).
Putting aside the off-the-record briefings by the Labourites demanding that their chosen one be given a free run for the
anointing election, journalist Henry McDonald has inadvertently offered this summation of what may well be Maíria Cahill’s sole and only purpose in Joan Burton’s eyes:
“Mairia Cahill: A Senate sniper to shoot barbs at Sinn Fein”
A decent person with genuine grievances and a contribution to make, reduced to the role of a weaponised-critic for a political cult terrified of both the electorate and its rivals. What could possibly go wrong with that, a chairde?
Moving on to matters regional, let me say this: Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!
Yep, unionism’s wicked queen of the north, Ruth Patterson, has resigned from the DUP following her recent snubbing in favour of Emma Pengelly, the daughter of Noel Little, the militant who armed the party’s paramilitary wing, the Ulster Resistance, back in the 1980s (debts gotta be paid, dontcha know). The bold Patterson, the Sarah Palin of Irish politics (not a compliment, in case you’re a Tea Party keyboard-licker who stumbles upon this post by accident), is rightly irate after all those fine contributions to community relations down through the years. Has Peter “the Euro” Robinson no appreciation for tradition?
Meanwhile, back with national politics, the right-wing party that is not Fine Gael, led by some bloke called Micheál, has made another selection in its chaotic list of candidates for the forthcoming general election. From thejournal.ie:
“FIANNA FÁIL IS set to add a former TD’s daughter, who is currently working abroad, to its general election ticket in Cork East.
Barbara Ahern, an accountant and tax advisor who has been based in Gibraltar for the last two years, is coming back to Ireland and hopes to be added to the party ticket, according to her father.”
And people say Irish politics are a closed shop of self-selecting, self-entitled elites?
Och, enough of this…