Posted by: whatkindofweekhasitbeen | March 4, 2012

4th March, 2012

This has been a tough week for the board of directors of Costa Cruises. Not that it was great for their customers either mind.

As if it wasn’t bad enough they had to deal with the nautical equivalent of a boy racer beaching his underlighted Honda Civic in a roundabout earlier in the year, the Costa Allegra (and their crew that was apparently as hopeless as they were hapless) was marooned out in the Indian Ocean for three days before finally rocking up on the Seychelles coast, though thankfully not literally. While GPS makes a Marie Celeste-style disappearance unlikely these days, in Pakistan Osama Bin Laden’s compound, not exactly easily spotted on Google Maps, is being torn down, as lord knows he doesn’t need it anymore. The rationale is supposedly that demolition will neutralise any danger of the site becoming a place of pilgrimage, I personally would have converted it into the finest rib joint this side of Lahore. Nothing wins hearts and minds like a stomach full of meat and barbeque sauce.

From compounds to compacts, and Ireland’s government this week officially called the referendum proposing whether we should consolidate all our loans into one manageable repayment. The fiscal compact – so named because of the arse-clenching terms of the deal – should be interesting if for no other reason than to see the rabid pro-life movement claim the EU will open abortion clinics to raise money or some such. As it stands there is more chance of a sell-out Erasure tour of Uganda than there is of this passing, mainly because the voting populace are sick of austerity and the treaty itself makes as much sense as reacting to having your car stolen by insuring your driving gloves.

One man who loves the smell of EU treaty in the morning is Declan Ganley, a man I never tire of tiring of. But while he no doubt has some bombastic plans up his sleeve before balloting in June, he’s been busying himself with other histrionics. Namely, a statue of Che Guevara.

Being an evil uber-capitalist unparalleled this side of a Muppets Movie his aversion to the Argentine rebel is hardly surprising, he even called Che “a mass murderer”, though I think his attitude to rebels may change in a few years during the centenary of the Easter Rising, since our homegrown revolutionaries were good enough to make his election literature. Nevertheless, his assertion that it will damage Galway’s investment opportunities, international reputation and chances of getting in to heaven is typically over the top. But at five meters high, laden with glass and more a propos in a basement art gallery than a popular promenade what the monument will be, however, is a bloody eyesore. They need to learn a thing or two from the Galway Democratic Republic.

As one hair-poor business emperor attempts to pick up paper inches by flogging a dead horse, another spends the week trying to avoid mentioning them in his papers altogether. With The Everything Is OK Now Seriously On Sunday barely a week old, it emerged that Murdoch acolyte and high Scrabble score Ruhbehkuh Bruhuuuukhz took on a retired Rozzer horse. Equine pun hilarity ensued. But while she was the, ahem, mane recipient of derision the revelation that David Cameron also rode the horse after initially saying he didn’t really turned into a three day event. To be honest I’m not so much annoyed at the fact she took the horse (sure who among us haven’t been given the privilege of getting something from people in the services? My Da brought me back a book and a few t-shirts when he was over in Kosovo) but the fact she gave the horse back because she didn’t fancy it anymore. The bitch.

An old newspaper saying (apart from “never look a gift horse in the mouth”) is “never pick a fight with someone who buys ink by the barrel”. In that case, fear the might of Aonghus O’Snodaigh, the Sinn Fein TD who managed to go through an inexplicable 50 grand’s worth of printer ink over the space of two years. For that amount of money he could have bought an octopus farm and harvested the ink himself. Though bad as his photocopying War And Peace three times a week habit was, at least we’ve moved away from the days where Republican politicians were enthusiastically using other kinds of cartridge.

But some things in Irish politics however will never change, for example the amount of clueless buffoons representing us at council level. This week there were at least three stand-up rows in the Donegal County Council chamber that left things in Lifford even more like something out of Anchorman than usual.  Worse still members of the Donegal Youth Council, who are Socratic masters compared to them anyway, were there to give a presentation and saw the whole embarrassingly comic thing go down. Some of them were even approached or called up by reporters for their reaction, prudently responding with no comment. They have wisdom beyond their years. At least somebody does.


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