Big Mental Disease

The never-ending stream of depressing news continues this morning with the revelation that politicians in the UK are being harassed to within an inch of their lives by the media and the general public. The corridors of power are empty; politicians are barricading themselves in underground bunkers until the witch-hunt ceases and they can get on with their lives without fear of being burnt at the stake.

The campaign to expose MPs’ Commons expense claims has become so personal that it has started to resemble a McCarthy-style witchhunt, a Tory backbencher said today.

Nadine Dorries, the member for Mid-Bedfordshire, also warned that the relentless drip-drip of leaked claims was creating such an atmosphere of terror that there was a real risk of an MP committing suicide.

Times

Is this really the kind of society we live in? An upstanding servant of the people is made to fear for his or her life, all because of a small bit of theft, theft that absolutely everyone is committing anyway? These men and women of honour should be given knighthoods, such was their bravery and determination. Read the rest of this entry »

Hats off to Minister Brian Lenihan on yesterday’s stern but fair Budget. I’d take my hat off, but I had to sell it for food. I have one important question for Mr. Lenihan however, one which he made no attempt to address during his speech. Is that a hairpiece you are wearing and if so, did you blacken it yourself or is that its natural colour? I have to say I was disappointed with the €3,000 penis levy introduced by the minister.  All people between twenty and forty who currently own, or did within the past five years own, a penis, qualify to pay the levy.  I will of course have to pay this myself, but I am lucky that I have a bit extra lying around at the moment after an inheritance from a very close friend, who committed suicide after the property balloon burst into flames last year.

People need to face the realities of the current situation. We can’t sustain our current lifestyle. The harsh truth is that a lot of us need to pass on the steak and foie gras and instead go back to bread. I remember when growing up a slice of cheese was a delicacy. Put that slice of cheese on a cut of bread and you had a veritable feast. My father toiled for hours in the bog to put bread on our table. My siblings and I used to bound happily up the field to meet him as he was coming home. He would have a slice of bread and a sod of turf under his arm.  It was all we needed and more.

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