2. Most of the stuff about parliamentary scrutiny is twaddle. How many times has the Seanad ever fought the government?

3. If the Seanad is so good, why is it that no party leader since Garrett has deemed a single one of his senators worthy of being a cabinet minister? Not one! It means that abolition, for the most part, will only remove politicians of a secondary calibre, as decided by the party leaders themselves.

4. The 2004 reforms, which were stalled by the same people who now regard them as vital, were a great idea. In 2004. Now, they’re just a last throw of the dice.

5. Many “reformers” seem to want to take abolition off the table, THEN discuss reform. What’s the likelihood that those discussions will run for decades? Let them put those reforms to the people first, and if they are rejected, then we can vote on abolition. 

6. The biggest reform does not require a referendum. Just pass a law to allow each Dail elector to be a Seanad elector to an appropriate panel as in article 18.7 of the constitution. Let each citizen choose which panel they wish to affiliate to, and overnight we will have a directly elected vocational Seanad, wiping out the councillor electorate. Pass a law to do this, and open up the nominating process, and I’ll vote to retain.

Hey Stavros, here comes my dole!

Even right wingers like me, who support the EU/IMF and recognise the need for harsh discipline in the country, are beginning to despair at what the Greek people are going through. The fact is, if we are not careful, we will see Greeks dying, or possibly suffer third world levels of poverty as their public infrastructure collapses.

But what is the solution? To keep giving a corrupt, incompetent Greek state money, which it will squander, or use to stave off vital long-term reforms? Or, is it time for the EU to consider direct welfare provision, to stave off the worst excesses and protect the most vulnerable? Should the EU offer to voluntarily register individual Greek citizens and pay them a weekly amount directly? Or what about creating EU public works programmes, such as hiring thousands of unemployed college graduates to collect taxes from businesses? Would it be patronising, even colonialist? Quite possibly, but bear in mind that it was the Greek government that created this insatiable public money devouring clientelist monster, not the EU. It would be voluntary, anyway, perhaps dispersed from EU embassies, effectively the biggest direct aid programme in Europe since Marshall Aid or the Berlin Airlift. How ever we do it, we cannot let Greeks starve. This is Europe, for Christ’s sake.    

Of course, when I suggest something like this there’ll be the usual Irish voices demanding that any such funds be spent in Ireland, but the reality is that Greece is in a far worse state than Ireland, and unlike Ireland, is in serious danger of a military coup. One thing is certain, and this applies to Ireland as well as Greece. Whilst you must get taxes and spending into alignment, you just cannot cut your way out of a recession.

By the way, pro-lifers should welcome this bill, if only because it’ll allow them to see who their real friends are. I don’t agree with conservative Catholics on a lot, but they are as entitled to have their voices in the Dail as anyone else. It’s all well and good FF and FG deputies and  senators waving their pro-life credentials around in private, let’ s see them do it in public.

Will it be divisive? Of course it will be, and it should be. That’s what parliaments are for. They don’t call a vote in a parliament a “division” for nothing, you know. 

The Trojan Horse contained a Pandora’s Box.

All across Europe, a collection of left-wingers, eurosceptics, Occupy activists and anti-globalisation protesters took to the streets as the election results from Greece came in. The PASOK and the New Democracy parties, the old parties of corruption and clientelism that had led Greece to its knees, had been annihilated by a hard left alliance of small parties on a platform of resistance to austerity. Thousands of students danced in the streets of the Greek capital, and the people voiced their opinion. In Ireland, Richard Boyd Barrett of People Before Profit spoke excitedly of a Irish “Greek Revolution”, whilst Joe Higgins of the Socialist Party spoke ominously of a military coup.

Within days, the new Greek government had expelled the EU and IMF monitors, and announced plans to nationalise the major Greek businesses. Of course, the fact that nearly every commercially owned Greek vessel had left Greek ports in the days leading up to the election had not been missed by the media, nor had the streams of expensive Porsches and  Mercedes and haulage trucks that had choked up the border posts leading into Turkey or up into Europe. Some border guards had attempted to delay them, but bundles of euronotes had eased the bureaucracy in a way the old Greece would have been proud of. The new prime minister’s exchange controls on banks were merely symbolic, given the billions that had fled the country in the previous weeks. 

 Angela Merkel was quick to welcome the new government, stating very clearly that the EU would not force Greece to take any more of its bailout funding. The will of the Greek people must be respected, she said.

Within a month, the Greek government defaulted on all of Greece’s debt, and announced that it was leaving the eurozone. Greek banks began to collapse, the ECB providing assistance to other eurozone banks to assist them with their Greek losses. Greek banks began issuing euronotes with “New Drachma” stamped on them, at an exchange rate of one half of their euro value. As a result, food prices soared in shops, and Greeks continued to haggle using unstamped euronotes, until the government announced that hoarding unstamped euronotes was a criminal offence. Then the government announced that it could no longer pay pensions or public sector workers in notes, but would issue scrip until the New Drachma could be printed, which must be honoured in shops. Despite this law, many shop-owners refused to accept scrip, or gave preference to customers with euronotes.

There was a sense of excitement when the New Drachma finally reached the banks. Although the central bank attempted to restrict the amount printed, the new government, eager to restore public order, continued to print notes to pay public sector workers and restore cuts to wages and pensions. Prices in shops began to rise sharply, fuelled by internal inflation and the collapse in the New Drachma against other currencies. Tourists did begin to return, but were surprised to find themselves pestered by tour operators to be paid in euro. Given the almost daily price rises, tour operators going to Greece found themselves forced to admit that they could not guarantee prices, especially as imported fuel, food and consumer goods were soaring in price.

Trades unions demanded price rises to keep place with inflation, which the government agreed to, funding with more printed notes, which fuelled higher inflation. The daily demonstrations, a regular feature during the IMF programme, returned to protest outside parliament, complaining of the soaring prices. The government attempted to instigate price controls, forcing business to sell products at prices below import cost. Not surprisingly, this plan did not resolve the issue. Far right protesters started marching, suggesting that the problem was caused by an alliance of Turkey and Jews, and demanded that Greece must make a military gesture to restore her national dignity. President Obama quickly dispatched secretary Clinton to Europe to London, Paris, Berlin and Ankara to make sure that Athens got the message that the rest of NATO would not tolerate such action.

By now, rioting was a daily occurence, with empty supermarkets being torched, and the government struggling to find a solution. The much hoped boost to tourism fuelled by the much devalued New Drachma didn’t arise, possibly due to the unattractive nature of rioting and tear gas dispersal on European television screens.

Then the army moved, seizing parliament and announcing a National Salvation Council to restore order. Martial law was imposed, and demonstrators were shot dead. Joe Higgins and Richard Boyd Barrett, who had been curiously quiet in recent months, immediately appeared, demanding that this “fascist putsch” be countered. When asked would they be going to Greece to lead an international brigade against the fascists, journalists were told “eh, we’ll get back to you on that”. The EU immediately imposed sanctions on Greece, freezing bank accounts and military imports. NATO suspended Greek membership within days.

Within two weeks of the coup, even the army were beginning to protest, with the shortage of food and fuel causing massive army desertions as soldiers returned to their families. A group of younger officers then staged a counter coup, overthrowing their superiors in a lightening operation, and returning power to the government, provided the prime minister agreed to one policy, which he assented to.

Two days after being restored to power, the Greek prime minister addressed the Greek people, and announced that his government would put the EU bailout package to a national referendum. 

The ballcock must yield, through me, to the will of the French People!

President of the French Republic Nicolas Sarkozy has stunned the French political establishment by stepping out from his hectic schedule of media appearences and making grand vague speeches full of intangible undeliverable promises to fix a broken toilet in a school he was visiting in Nantes yesterday.

The talented son of a Hungarian immigrant who had a meteoric rise to the Elysee Palace had just finished delivering a speech promising that France would have a man on Mars by Christmas when the headmistress of the school casually made a remark about her toilet being broken.

” This will not do! Let us examine the situation!” The president declared, where he then proceeded to lead a delgation into the bathroom, and removed the cover of the cistern. After a quick examination, he removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to readjust the ballcock which had become loose. A quick test flush revealed that the toilet was now fixed, and after a round of applause during which the president washed his hands, he departed, announcing his hope to bring peace to the Middle East before dinner.

She can buy her own Manolos, thank you very much.

And in honour of the day that is in it:

It’s the sympathethic grimace and the tilt of the head to one side she can’t stand. The look from her (married) friends and older relatives, in response to her “No” to their  “So, is there anyone special at the moment?”. That pained “Don’t worry, it’ll happen” look in their eyes. Followed by the “You’re sure you’re not being too fussy? After all, you’re not getting any younger” look.

What they can’t, indeed refuse to understand, is that she could possibly be happy on her own. At her age! Sure, she’s got her own place, a good job, and a career, and goes on holidays to places that they just can’t get to what with the kids and everything, but still, she can’t possibly be happy!

What they can’t understand is that she has actually crossed over the tipping point, from being one of those women who thought that maybe a man could give her what she wanted to being a woman who balks at the sacrifices she’d now have to make. She’d have to change, and maybe not go to the hotel she wants to go to in Manhattan and maybe not see what she wants to see, and for what? Well, there’s the obvious, but she can get that anyway.

But she also gets the Saturday morning in bed reading and sauntering around the house in her Bananarama tee-shirt and doing her thing. If only someone would invent an escort service that does interior decorating, DIY and a bit of plumbing on the side. Put up them shelves, a bit of a giggle in the afternoon, and you can go now, “Nurse Jackie” is starting. Is that so much to ask? 

Over the breakfast bar, love?

He kind of fell into the job. He’d been with some mates in the Hampton Hotel on Grab-A-Granny night, caught the eye of an aul wan showing more skin than Katie Price, more orange than Peter Robinson, and with her 2012 5 series outside, courtesy of her ex-husband, he’s back to the townhouse off Morehampton Road for a scoop-fuelled knee trembler. He wakes up in the morning, shudders at her ReadyBrek glow on the sheets, and is then shoved out the front door by her as she settles down for “Midday” on the telly and two Neurofen, but not before she pats two €50s into his shirt pocket “for a taxi”.

He’d been out of work for a while, and suddenly, there it was. The hotels and nightclubs with a more “mature” clientele were identified, a new suit and a bottle of Paco Rabane was purchased, and he was away. Sure, some of the old dears, God bless them, had thought that their wily charms had done the trick, but a quick request “to borrow a hundred quid” had clarified the matter. He even left a card with them, just in case. 12 months later, he had a list of regulars and was pulling in about €800 a week, notes in the hand, never you mind Mr. Revenue Man.

Of course, there were overheads. He’s in the gym everyday, and is visiting six different doctors to get the magic blue pill, which even he needs after a busy schedule. He could swear after one mad day he’d seen smoke emit from his member. Some of his clients liked a bit of spice, a visit from the scruffy plumber with his tool belt and “don’t forget to bring some pipe!”

Then there’s the husbands, whether they’re arriving home from Aintree early or sitting in a wardrobe in nothing but rubber gloves watching (that’s an extra €25). He’s never had a problem, at least, not yet. One husband, who opened a broom cupboard to find him bollock naked save for a cowboy hat, looked him up and down, said “rather you than me, mate”, and fecked off for a round of golf and one freshly minted “Get Out of Jail Free” card.

Are there side effects? Funnily enough, he hasn’t suffered any STIs, as the aul wans tend to be careful. Having said that, he has the fight the feeling, when he’s with his own girlfriend, that he’s giving away free stock. 

Let Nucky do it!

I have started watching the much acclaimed “Boardwalk Empire” and have been enjoying it.
One aspect of it which struck me was the fact that the main character, Nucky Thompson, a local
county politician, actually has power. He has to intereact with other politicians, senators, governors, mayors, etc, but it is all about men (it is set in 1920) with power doing deals.
It reminded me of that curious aspect of Irish society, how powerlessness is wallowed in by Irish people, almost taking a masochistic pleasure in our helplessness. Just think about how the people of Scotland are debating power, or how the Basques or Catalonia regard taking control of their countries as being the first step in shaping their lives.Watch any US political drama and see politicians at all levels of office with the power to order things.

Now look at the Irish. In recent times we have had people complain about septic tanks, local hospitals, property taxes, water taxes, and cuts in local services. Yet hardly ever during this debate, despite whinging about the EU, IMF, and “dem up in Dublin”, has there ever been a serious political drive by counties or regions to take control of their own affairs.

Take county councils. Most county councillors complain vocally about having no power. Most county councillors are members of Fine Gael. Which party is leading the government, and has the most seats in parliament? Yet Fine Gael councillors aren’t rebelling in huge numbers at their alleged powerlessness. The truth is, self empowerment is not a big issue in Ireland because large numbers of Irish people don’t like taking responsibility, and it manifests itself in weird ways.
Witness the ding dong that happens about how tough enforcement of drink driving laws discriminates against rural areas. Maybe it does. But where are the local TDs and councillors in Fine Gael (and FF before them.) actually demanding legislation to allow for local councils to decide their own drinking arrangements, their own closing times and own enforcement regimes?
If the people of Mattie McGrath’s constituency do not regard septic tank polluted water as being a big issue, let them vote to permit faeces in their drinking water, with the national government merely ensuring that outsiders (like tourists) know that water in Tipperary is similar to that in say, Somalia, and that if Tipperary poisons another county’s water then Tipperary taxpayers get fined to clean it. Give them that power. It’s their county, and their water, shit free or not.

Buckley’s a US political satirist most famous for being A) the son of  US Conservative Ayatollah William F. Buckley, and B.) writing the novel Thank You For Smoking, which was made into a very enjoyable movie with the criminally underrated Aaron Eckhart.

It’s 1988, and Democratic President Elect Thomas Nelson Tucker is being sworn into office. What happens is a diary of his deputy chief of staff’s musings on the noble but chaotic Tucker Presidency, and it was, for many years, my favourite book. It’s both funny and touching, and will be really appreciated by those of us who take our politics with a bit of hope bit of hope on the side.