Albert Reynolds is dead.

Well, it's hard to miss the fact as every fucking newspaper has banner headlines, and doubtless they'll be wiffling on about him on radio and television for the rest of the day.

I don't quite grasp this honouring of the deceased.  Fair enough, if someone did great things then by all means mention it, but let's keep a grasp on reality.  As far as I am concerned Reynolds was an employee of mine.  I paid his salary and for many years have been contributing to his very handsome pension.  As an employee he did some good things and he did some bad things, yet doubtless over the coming days we will hear how he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.  There will be calls for stamps to bear his image or for bridges to be named after him, yet these people who will be doing the calling probably haven't given him a single thought in years.

I noticed a "tweet" on Twitter today.  It said something to the effect "Albert Reynolds has died. What are your memories of him?".  What the fuck?  If I stood in the middle of O'Connell Street in Dublin and yelled the same thing I would probably be arrested or whisked away by nice kind men in white coats, yet here is this "tweet" directed at all and sundry presumably hoping to  start up some kind of meme where we all post fond memories of someone we never really knew.

When I fall off my perch I doubt many people will notice.  I presume my immediate family will notice something is amiss and doubtless there will be a few comments down the pub – "I see the old fart has kicked it" or "the fucker still owes me a pint" – but I would squirm in my grave if anyone started praising me from the roof tops as if I were somehow God's gift to society.  I know I have a few good points but I would hate people to forget my bad points as then they wouldn't be remembering the true me.

So Albert Reynolds is dead.

My sympathies go to his family.

That's it.

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Obituaries — 11 Comments

  1. I knew something was going seriously wrong when the seemingly entire British public succumbed to wailing and despair following Diana's early bath. The transparent Bliar milked it for all he was worth and letting Elton John loose at the funeral redined the word 'cringeworthy'. 

    • That Diana thing was an almost perfect example of mass hysteria.  Even now they say a photograph of her on the cover of a magazine guarantees huge sales. 

      The highlight of that funeral was the brother having a go at the monarchy!

  2. I had a grudging respect for Albert – he wasn't a career politician – he was mocked by the chattering classes for making his money from dance halls and pet food – and he wasn't afraid to go his own way

  3. Have you any views on the Cat and Dog foods manufactured by the late great Albert Reynolds's thriving company? What does Penny think? Also, did you and Herself ever go to a dancehall owned or managed by the eminent statesman? Pet lovers and dancers must have their memories to share at this sad moment in Irish political history.

    • Hah!  I don't even know what dog food he manufactured.  If it was tinned, then Penny can't comment – she's a dry-food-dog.

      Myself and Herself at a dance?  You must be joking…..

  4. This is one of those posts that’s strictly Irish in nature that I cannot relate to in anyway, shape or form. However, I wish to take this time to tell you that if you fall off your perch before I do, I’ll definitely notice. I’ll even miss you a bit.

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