Politics
Photo: Nixfoto
I’m fascinated by Martin Mansergh TD. If you have ever seen/heard him then you will know how incompetent he can be in interviews. Definitely a case of the smart man coming across as a village idiot because of his antics. Interviews with Martin quickly descend into farce; he lets loose a desperate stream of verbal diarrhea, shouting in a bizarre fashion every time someone presses him or tries to interrupt. This shouting is almost hypnotic. I say shouting, but it’s probably more accurate to call it hysterical shrieking. He leads everyone on a wild dance through the meadows, failing to answer the simplest of questions and just failing in general.
Martin is a cartoon character, and can occasionally be comedy gold. In 2008 he told Senator Eugene Regan “you should have some respect for your betters” for daring to question Bertie Ahern’s dodgy finances. As long as there are clowns like this in politics, we’ll always have something funny to look at.
Lech Kaczynski, Polish President, died in the plane crash on Saturday and left behind an identical twin, Coleslaw. Pardon me, I meant Jaroslaw. Jaroslaw has a knack for seeing into the future. In 2005 he said “the affirmation of homosexuality will lead to the downfall of civilization. We can’t agree to it.” Of course the gay-loving people across the world didn’t listen to him, with further campaigns for gay rights. Now the downfall has started. Apparently there was a gay man on this plane and he used his evil gay powers to bring it down.
Members of the Polish parliament wept yesterday as they remembered the 18 deputies and senators who died with their president in Saturday’s air crash.
Only one MP refused to shed tears: Jaroslaw Kaczynski, the twin brother of President Kaczynski and the man who may yet replace him.
Jaroslaw (60) should have been on the doomed Tupolev 154 flight with the other 96 passengers but opted to stay in Warsaw to tend the twins’ ailing mother, Jadwiga Kaczynska.
“He’s like a robot at the moment,” said one of his friends. “Jarek (Jaroslaw) is functioning at a public level but he’s not sharing his feelings. He’s wrapped up with the question of why he survived while his brother did not.”
It’s pretty simple Jaroslaw. You were safe on the ground in Warsaw while Lech was in a big tin can smashing into a forest at high speed.
Brian Cowen - Taoiseach
Mary Coughlan – Minister for Ineptitude and Destroying Children’s Futures
Brian Lenihan – Minister for Dropping In Every So Often to Let Everyone See That He Is Okay
Tony Killeen – Minister for Fuck Knows Where He Came From But What Are The Odds That We’ll Despise Him Within a Month
Mary Harney – Minister for Scoffing French Fancies and Drinking Scandalous Amounts*
Noel Dempsey – Minister for Hoping It Doesn’t Snow Again
Dermot Ahern – Minister for Blasphemy Reform and Ignoring the Gay Community
Micheál Martin – Minister for Slowly Thinning Hair and Being Afraid of Israel
Pat Carey – Minister for being a Media Whore
Éamon Ó Cuív – Minister for Taking Money From The Poor and Having a Rubber Face
Mary Hanafin – Minister for GAA, Guinness and Coaxing Patronising Americans over To Walk Around in Shorts and Sandals Dirtying Up Inchydoney in July
John Gormley – Minister for Selling Your Soul For Cash
Eamon Ryan – Minister for Being Hopelessly Perplexed and Reminding you of Frank Spencer While Delivering Dial-up Internet to the Sticks
Brendan Smith – Minister for Tractors, Driving Around With Twenty Dogs in The Car and Wellingtons Caked in Shit
Batt O’Keeffe – Minister for Photo Ops Outside Crappy Businesses and Having a Big Fat Head
Turfed Out:
Martin Cullen – Minister for Being Raped Every Day
Willie O’Dea – Minister for the Sunday Independent and 1970s Pornstars
Trevor Sargent – Minister for Interfering
* of tea.
A very informative and interesting documentary was shown on More4, part of the True Stories series. Yoav Shamir, through film, explores the question “What is anti-Semitism Today?”. I have always wondered why the term anti-Semitic is used so loosely, in describing anyone who criticises Israel’s policies and actions. The psychology and indoctrination of the threat of anti-Semitism goes much deeper than I ever imagined.
There is one particular scene I found very disturbing. A group of Israeli teenagers on an excursion to Auschwitz are told not to talk to any of the local people, because they are hated. They will have no contact with any other teenagers and are not allowed out of their rooms. Anyone found talking to strangers is scolded.
Have a look at pompous eunuch Ronan Mullen, foaming at the mouth as usual. An awkward mixture of Brian Cowen and a myopic hamster. What a cunt.
I find it amusing that an angry email to Fianna Fáil a few months ago concerning the blasphemy hullabaloo has landed me on their mailing list as some sort of loyal supporter.
Dear ****,
The polls have now closed and we will soon know what the outcome of the referendum is.
I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has helped during the campaign to push out our positive message about Ireland and Europe.
The legal guarantees secured at June’s European Council to address the Irish people’s concerns provided the essential foundation for our campaign and the more we talked to people about them the stronger the response became.
While we launched our formal campaign on September 2nd, work started well before then, and our representatives and supporters had a big role to play in shaping the debate in June, July and August especially in the local and national media.
During the last month, the response has been great. Senior members of government campaigned throughout the country, with the Taoiseach himself getting to 26 constituencies.
We took our message to the people and hit back hard against the cynical tactics of many on the “No” side.
Hopefully all has gone well and Ireland will move forward with Europe.
Whatever the result is, I want to thank everyone who helped.
Sincerely,
Micheál Martin, TD
Minister for Foreign Affairs
Campaign Director – Fianna Fáil
Well, you combover-cockhead, you didn’t seem too interested in my opinions at the foot of Barrack Street in Cork a few years back. I’ll never forget how your ill-fitting suit flapped in the wind, like some sort of lame superhero cape gone wrong.