Jason OMahony - Irish political blogger, Irish politics, EU politics

Frank and Birgitte Vs. The Kremlin.

Posted by Jason O on Mar 4, 2014 in European Union, Events, Not quite serious.

The White House.

President Frank Underwood rises from his seat to greet EU Council President and former Danish Prime Minister Birgitte Nyborg Christensen.

Frank:      “Birgitte, my God, look at you, it’s youngah you’re                               gettin’!”

Birgitte:   “Thank you Frank, you can take the syrup as poured,”

The President smiles at his EU counterpart, and directs her to a sofa.

Frank:     “Would you like a snack, Birgitte? Perhaps some                   ribs, or maybe I could tempt you to join me in                       an iced tea?”

Birgitte:  “Actually, I would like an apple, if that’s                                   possible?”

Frank:     “An apple? How sensible of you.” (sotto voce to                      camera: “An apple! How European!”)

Frank presses a button on his desk.

Frank:     “Maria, can we get President of the European Council of the European Union Nyborg                         (glance to camera) one of our delicious South Carolina apples?”

He then sits across from Birgitte.

Frank:      “Birgitte, I don’t mind telling you, It’s hard enough tryin’ to keep the Kremlin from                            spoiling the front patio when you guys over there in the European Union can’t agree on                      lunch, never mind a position on the Ukraine. I’ve seen better organised herds of                                  arthritic cats.”

Birgitte:   “I agree, but I think we can come to a common position…”

Frank:      “When? When he’s in Kiev? Riga? Warsaw? Birgitte, I grew up with guys like                                        our friend Vladimir. He’s a pretty straight guy, but he’ll only be straight with people he                     regards as equals. Whilst you guys are debating whether to cancel his subscription to                         G20 magazine, this guy is gonna keep helpin’ himself to your lunch money. You can win                     his respect alright: (Frank raps his heavy ring on the coffee table). With the stick.                               Maybe not used, but ready to be used.”

Birgitte:  “I agree Frank. I’m a nice caring European liberal, but I know a fascist when I                                     see one. I just think we need a little outside the box thinking.”

Frank:     “Go on.”

Birgitte:  “I’ve spent two days assembling a peacekeeping force. Denmark, Poland, Germany,                           France, Belgium and Luxembourg for a start…”

Frank:      “Luxembourg? Does Luxembourg even have tanks?”

Birgitte:    “They have anti-tank missiles and professional well-trained soldiers who know how to                      use them, Frank, and a Luxembourgish missile will take the turret off a Russian tank                          just as effectively as an American one. It’s a small force, Frank, just 160 vehicles. But I                      also have been studying this…”

Birgitte handed a file to the President. He opened it.

Frank:        “Public tenders for various building projects across Europe and the US. I don’t…”

Birgitte:     “Look at who is bidding on them.”

Frank reads on, smiles to himself, then turns to the camera: (“The Chinese are bidding on all these. Two Chinese firms in particular, both owned by members of the Chinese Military Commission. I Like the way her Nordic mind works!”)

Frank:        “You’re thinking of a pincer movement, aren’t you madame President?”

Birgitte smiles slightly.

Birgitte:     “NATO command tell me that the Chinese have a major exercise planned for the                                 Russian border for three weeks from now. Of course, if they were to suddenly mobilise                      and bring the exercise forward.”

Frank:        “Even the Kremlin doesn’t want to be worrying about an EU force entering the                                     Ukraine…”

Birgitte:       “A small but well-equipped peacekeeping force with US support available if needed,                          at the invitation of the Ukraine government,”

Frank smiled.

Frank:          “Of course. At the same time a million heavily armed Chinese are testing their shiny                            new armoured personnel carriers and fighter bombers on their Eastern flank.”

Birgitte:       “We’ll have to convince the Ukrainians to respect the Russian minority, of course,                              and perhaps devolve some autonomy to the Crimea and some other regions, but we                            leave the Kremlin very clear as to our lunch money.”

Frank:          “That we do, madame President. Let me see what happened to your apple. I wonder                          did they send someone to South Carolina to pick it!”


Meanwhile, in the European Council.

Posted by Jason O on Mar 4, 2014 in European Union, Not quite serious.

Clinking of glass.
Herman Van Rompuy, President of the European Council: Good morning colleagues, welcome to our beautiful new European External Action Service Headquarters, to this crisis meeting on the Ukraine. As you can see, we have everything we need, including WiFi and a really big screen…
Belgium: What’s the code for the WiFI?
Herman: J-a-c-q-u-e-s-d-e-l-o-r-s. Now, watch this.

The President pulls out a remote control, and activates the giant screen. It lights up with very
impressive maps and moving icons. Collective oohs and awws from around the room.

Herman: Good, isn’t it? We got a great price too. And this Japanese guy installed it for us. Now, you can see here the disposition of every Russian tank division facing Europe, live by satellite feed.

Sweden: Where are our tanks?
Netherlands: We have tanks?
Herman: Most of them are on blocks in a garage outside Leipzig. Something about their carbon emissions.
France: Why aren’t our tanks on the map?
Herman: The Americans won’t show us. They say it’s need to know only. Anyway, now, we all agree that we need to do something about the Ukraine.
Ireland: Sorry, Herman, is there any chance there’s some money in this for Ireland?
Herman: No.
Ireland: Right, well in that case I have to get to a funeral in Loughlinstown. Let us know how you get on. Oh, if you need to know Ireland’s position on any of this defence stuff (slides iPhone across the table) just press that button there. We’ve an app now. See yez lads!

Herman presses the button on the iPhone.

Pierce Brosnan’s voice says, with very clear
diction: War is bad. The United Nations is lovely. Kittens are lovely. Have you ever considered visiting Ireland? Or perhaps investing in Ireland?

Herman: Right, now, we need to consider economic sanctions.

United Kingdom: Now, let’s not be too hasty. Alexander Ivanovich, the young man who brings me my instruct…my coffee every morning says that we have to be very careful. If we impose sanctions it could affect house prices in Central London. Londoners might be able to afford some of them.

Belgium (as he changes his shirt,
showing of his smooth tanned,
lithe body): Surely there’s more to the British economy than Central London?

United Kingdom: Doctor Who?

Luxembourg: Should we consider…

Herman: I’m sorry, who are you?

Luxembourg: I’m the Prime Minister of Luxembourg.

Herman: Where’s Jean-Claude?

Luxembourg: Over there, trying to look in the window.

Herman: That’s Alex Salmond.

Luxembourg: No, beside him.

Herman: Oh, I see. Hi Jean Claude!

The Council waves at Jean Claude Juncker.
He waves back. Alex Salmond waves too, slightly over enthusiastically.

Herman: Right, so we’ve no consensus on economic sanctions. What about diplomatic sanctions? Freeze Visas?

Finland: Given that we have to live beside them, and you lot are who we have to rely on if it all kicks off, I’d prefer not to poke them with a stick.

Poland: We have to do something. It’s the Crimea today. It’ll be Talinn tomorrow.

Estonia screams and runs from the room.

Herman: We could kick them out of the G8?

France: Maybe cancel their Netflix subscription. The NSA say that Putin hasn’t got to the last episode of House of Cards yet.

Germany: How do you know?

France: We…have our ways. The Americans are very nice to us now since we started chasing crazies around Africa.

Herman: Is the Netflix account in Putin’s name?

France: Eh, no.

Germany: Whose name is on the credit card then?


France: David Cameron.

Collective sigh.

United Kingdom: They made me!

Herman: What about sending the Kremlin a very sternly worded letter? How do we get a letter to them anyway? Does anyone know any Russians?

Germany: Does Gerhard Schroeder count?

United Kingdom: When you say sternly…

Ireland: War! Booooooooooo! Did you know Ryanair flies from every major….

And so on.


The Diary of Arthur Henchy TD Part 6

The local elections continue to cause mayhem in the constituency, which always makes me laugh when one considers the relative powerlessness of county councillors. They have the power to call for, urge, and yearn for things. All very Danielle Steele. Of course, let’s be honest: for the parties, the local elections are basically a taxpayer funded run out for the general election, and a chance to separate the doers, the talkers, the poseurs, and the actually insane.

In the Feckerstown ward convention last night, Cllr. William Jennings Hanrahan, a henchman for my constituency colleague, arch-enemy, all-round devious bastard and throbbing verucca on my political big toe, Senator Maurice The Gimp Mahaffy, was waxing lyrical about his devotion to the party. For 48 eight long laws-of-physics breaking minutes he went on about his devotion to Fine Gael, and how as a young man he’d fallen to his knees to remove chewing gum from Liam Cosgrave’s shoe during the 1976 Ballyfermot by-election, and how his wish, when The Lord Our God called him, that perhaps someone would sprinkle a handful of soil from Beal na Blath over his casket, so that he may rest if only slightly close to greatness.

When the ballots were counted, he missed the last place by 5 votes. He was out of his seat, big red pudding face on him, accusing all and sundry of conspiracies and agendas, jabbing a finger at the young woman who had won the nomination of “dangling her female wiles”, before announcing that the party could f**k itself, and storming out. He could be heard on the corridor screaming at a young crony for Lucinda Creighton’s mobile number.


Watching the various “campaigns” for the European Parliament, I pretty much reckon that most Irish candidates could happily be running for a seat in Hell: “Fianna Fail candidate Cian Browley has pledged that he intends to secure as much funding as possible from Hell and the various Satanic Development Programmes. “I’m confident that there is funding available for local projects including new changing rooms for St. Jude’s. Will we have to pledge allegiance to Satan and all his evil works? Ah, here, I’ve no interest in all that high falutin’ nonsense. All I know is that the young lads of St. Jude’s won’t be getting poison ivy from the bushes around their Careful Nows, and that’s all I’m interested in. Does it bother me that Hitler and Jimmy Saville are in the same parliamentary group as me? Sure, that’s a typical Irish Times question, that is. Typical. I can tell ye this: Hitler voted for the new interpretative centre in Feckerstown which will have all the tourists in the town, and that’s the main thing. No, I don’t remember if I voted for his motion supporting the extermination of Untermenschen. Mind your own feckin’ business!”


Hanrahan announced that due to the radical feminists and homosexuals who have seized control of the party of Michael Collins and Liam “Keep ’em rollin’ in the aisles” Cosgrave, he has launched his campaign to put himself before the people as an Independent Cumman ns nGaedheal/League of Youth candidate. He announced this, from the basket of a hot air balloon he had borrowed from his brother in law, under a giant rubber balloon (he’s not short a few quid, Hanrahan) in the shape of his face. Although he hadn’t planned on becoming airborne, a gust of wind caught the balloon, lifting it up with the Cllr and his crony in the basket, leading to an string of expletives through the megaphone as the basket was repeatedly lifted and bounced off the main street as the wind dragged it along. The balloon proceeded to break free, and as it slowly deflated it continued down the street, the cllr’s giant facsimile twisting and buckling. Children, animals and senior citizens were sent screaming. A young child holding a puppy with a sore leg was snatched out of harm’s way by Lucinda Creighton who had turned up to watch the proceedings, and I’m pretty sure when she started running towards the child I could hear that de-de-de noise the Six Million Dollar Man used to make.

Anyway, the marauding orb was only stopped when a passing Garda Armed Response Unit skidded to a halt and deflated it with 48 rounds from a Heckler and Koch submachine gun. That’ll be a fun day in GSOC. 


Arthur Henchy TD has represented Kildare East since 1981. He has occasionally turned up at Oireachtas committees having actually read the legislation. He also borrowed the odd book off Garrett, and read it too.     

Copyright © 2020 Jason O Mahony All rights reserved. Email: Jason@JasonOMahony.ie.