Life in a public park
Every fourteen years we have a little bunfight here in Ireland.
We call it The Presidential Election. Itâs supposed to happen every seven years, but we find it easier to let the current incumbent run for a second term without contest. Itâs simpler and less confusing that way, and no one gives a shite about who is doing the job anyway.
The office of President is a little confusing. For a start, it is a non-political post. Yet one of the main ways to get your name on the ballot paper is to be nominated by a political party. I could never understand the logic there. But if you think thatâs confusing, then consider the other method of being nominated â you have to be put forward by four County Councils. Fucking weird, in the extreme. âCome on lads! Forget about filling holes in the road; we have to nominate a president.â
Other criteria are that you have to be over 35 [thanks be to fuck â that knocks out Jedward] and you apparently have to live in or near Dublin, which in turn weeds out a lot of rednecks and Culchies. But then that may refer to after the election in order to cut down on the commuting?
The current list of candidates makes strange reading. For some reason quite a few heads of charities are applying for the post. The are a couple of academics, one of whom is homosexual [which doesnât bother me but might be a little disconcerting to visiting dignitaries]. We have a failed television presenter who became a politician and ended up becoming President of the European Parliament. He now wants to come home, and I hope to God he doesnât succeed. We also have a right gobshite whose only claim to fame is that he is a panellist on âDragonâs Denâ. I would nearly prefer Jedward to him. Or Dustin the Turkey. Or Daniel OâDonnell. Or anyone for that matter.
All in all, they are an eclectic bunch.
Iâd run for the post myself, but Iâm happy in the mountains.
I donât fancy living in a public park in Dublin.
But sure isn’t the house a grand place to live and it right beside the a-zoo. You could take the grand kid there every day.
Or Daniel OâDonnell…wouldn’t that be a fun meeting, okay everyone instead of tabling the new business lets have a good o’sing along of irish eyes are smiling, bernie you did bring the hand drum? yes?
Mossy – That’s not a bad idea. I could have them collected by an army escort team and then demand [by Presidential Proclamation] that the zoo is closed to the Great Unwashed while I visit.
Cat – The only advantage to him being in The Park is that he’d at least remember everyone’s mammy’s name?
You have rednecks in Ireland? We have them here. Working class folks who vote for twats like Bush.
TT – Yup, we have rednecks [doesn’t every country?], though they are generally referred to as Culchies. A Culchy is anyone who lives outside Dublin, except myself of course.
I know this ‘Geordie” from the Northern England who reckons anybody born south of the Tyne River is a Cockney wanker. (If you see a map the joke will become clear.)
I hate to break it to you, but since Jedward would presumably get in together they are in fact 38.
I think my vote will be for the queer one. At least he will give us all a good laugh. Maybe he’d make the visiting foreign visitors feel the fear of being fucked.
Well, why not? They fucked us.
TT – Hah! Good one. I know where the Tyne is.. 😉
Tinman – Don’#t tell me they are 19 [each]? For fuck’s sake, they act like fucking ten year olds.
Slab – I tend towards The Queer One myself, though Herself fancies The Galway Hobbit. TQO has a good sense of humour which would make a change.
One of these days I’ll stand.
Here is my manifesto; ‘I’ll either kill the job for good or make it better’.
I’d forge an entirely new cultural identify for Ireland in the world inside 21 days or will have been assassinated. Possibly both.
Speaking as a culchie from Belfast (which hardly counts as a city compared to the industrial glory that is Dublin down through the ages) I think the presidency has improved no end since they brought in that rule that you had to be called Mary to qualify. I suppose Mairead might qualify. And I hear it’s David Norris’s nickname – so we’ll still have to put it to a vote.
Con – People have been trying that manifesto for years. Unfortunately, the last two incumbents made it marginally better. We need someone with real talent now to kill it off for once and for all.
BWT – There has been a bit of a run on the Marys all right. First my Auntie, and then that little chit of a lass [can’t remember her name…. oh yes, it was Mary?] These fucking reporters from RTE get everywhere.
Can County Councils (called Cocos, presumably after Coco the Clown) nominate themselves as candidates? It would be great for County Leitrim, say, to make it to the Arus. Leitrim might then make a presidential visit to its ancestral home – and the potholes around that forsaken culchy county would all be especially filled in in advance of the historic visit, just as the potholes around Moneygall in Offaly were filled in for O’Bamagh’s historic visit.
Grumpy – A neat idea, but I thing someone else must have thought of that in the past – I think the candidate needs the approval of four clowns Cocos