New Party Nonsense. With apologies to Flann O’Brian.

The Fella: “We need a new party, for the ordinary people!”

Me: “I see. What will this party stand for?”

The Fella: “It’ll be against the cuts. You know, social justice, that class of a thing.”

Me: “Like Sinn Fein. And Fianna Fail. And the Socialist Party. And the Socialist Workers Party?”

The Fella: “No, it’ll be different!”

Me: “How so?”

The Fella: “It’ll be for the ordinary man on the 46A. For dignity and respect and a world class health service and proper treatment for the old folks and the disabled and the like.”

Me: “Right. How will it pay for these things, then. Dignity isn’t cheap, you know.”

The Fella: “We’ll tax the big boys at the top. Make them pay their fair share.”

Me: “And when they leave, who will you tax to keep the services going?”

The Fella: “There’s all them fish been stolen off us by buckos named Jose, and then there’s all that gas just waiting to be brought ashore and sold. Sure, we’re in clover!”

Me: “Are you off?”

The Fella: “I am. Doing a nixer for a head-the-ball up our way. Cash in the hand.”

Me: “So you won’t be declaring it to the taxman? You know, to pay for public services?”

The Fella: “Will I be what? The taxman? So he can give it to the teachers and nurses and that crowd? I’ll be keeping it in the arsepocket of poor old mise here, if you don’t mind. Taxman!”

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