Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

A view of the world from an Irish hole

Eggheads versus Cavan councillors

A recent edition of the BBC’s popular early evening quiz-show Eggheads saw the cranially surfeited quintet challenged by a group of

Eggheads

No match for Cavan's blue councillors

councillors, who, in spite of being able to overcome their political differences, were still unable to unseat the Eggheads from their triumphant perch and thus failed to come away with the money.

How very different, I thought, it might have been had they been challenged by a group of councillors from Cavan. No doubt the personnel would have to reflect political membership but winning would surely be dependant upon the Fine Gael members of the council, whose all-embracing knowledge is truly awesome and would knock the Eggheads for six, exposing them thereby to be the intellectual poseurs they are. Much would depend on luck, but they would be on  a home run if the category of “Food and Drink” came up. If questions on “History” were proposed, victory would be in the bag, especially if the Museum’s Dr Snott was able to impersonate his father. We would see Judith slink back to her pied-a-terre in Cantal quicker than you can say Chris Tarrant, CJ would return to male modelling, while Chris would swear that he’d never leave the train driver’s seat again.

 The only problem all councillors would have to overcome would be a tendency to seek answers on anything challenging from the county manager. I don’t think that’s in the Eggheads rules.  

A recent edition of the BBC’s popular early evening quiz-show Eggheads saw the cranially surfeited quintet challenged by a group of councillors, who, in spite of being able to overcome their political differences, were still unable to unseat the Eggheads from their triumphant perch and thus failed to come away with the money.

 

How very different, I thought, it might have been had they been challenged by a group of councillors from Cavan. No doubt the personnel would have to reflect political membership but winning would surely be dependant upon the Fine Gael members of the council, whose all-embracing knowledge is truly awesome and would knock the Eggheads for six, exposing them thereby to be the intellectual poseurs they are. Much would depend on luck, but they would be on  a home run if the category of “Food and Drink” came up. If questions on “History” were proposed, victory would be in the bag, especially if the Museum’s Dr Snott was able to impersonate his father. We would see Judith slink back to her pied-a-terre in Cantal quicker than you can say Chris Tarrant, CJ would return to male modelling, while Chris would swear that he’d never leave the train driver’s seat again.

 

The only problem all councillors would have to overcome would be a tendency to seek answers on anything challenging from the county manager. I don’t think that’s in the Eggheads rules. 

After dark

Francisco Macias Nguema

Mad uncle Frank

Francisco Macias Nguema, was Equatorial Guinea’s first president. In the eleven years he held the post he was responsible for the deaths of 50,000 people, as well as sending thousands of others into exile. Before his overthrow and murder by his nephew, Teodoro Obiang Nguema (who is still in power) the country had earned the unwelcome epithet of “the Dachau of Africa”. Amnesty International’s annual report were full of the heinous acts of human rights violations carried out by Macias, not t mention the crimes against humanity to be laid at his successor’s door. He oversaw one of the most bizarre personality cults in history – so bizarre because it was so unmerited. He adored bestowing grandiose titles on himself, yet he was barely literate. It is said he failed the colonial exams to become an office clerk three times and was only successful on the fourth because of some positive discrimination. He was given to violent swings of personality and received treatment in Spain and the United States for unspecified psychiatric problems; towards the latter years of his life he had acquired some unidentifiable disease

A friendly dictator

Not really like his uncle?

which may have been AIDS-related.

His hold on power was maintained through fear, not only of his loyal thugs but of Macias personally. He deliberately cultivated the belief that his father had been a witch doctor and sorcerer, and that he had inherited many of these gifts. He was rumoured to have drunk the blood of some of his political opponents, and he kept a large stockpile of human skulls at his presidential compound, alongside all of the country’s foreign currency reserves and medical supplies. Macias loved the dark and detested light; a Spanish airline pilot was arrested and tortured when he accidentally shone his ‘plane’s headlights on Macias’ jet as it sat on the airport tarmac one night. In 1977 a visiting researcher was told that “… you may be against Macias while the sun shines, but after dark you have to be for him,” Even when overthrown and sentenced to death, no locals could be found to man the firing squad, and the task had to be performed by Moroccan soldiers.

Macias  Nguema’s preference for the dark reminds me of the activities of a solicitor employed by the Irish health Service Executive, who is sadly well-known to her victims, and who seems to delight in working in the hours of night, well after “The Bard’’s witching hour. Does she feel that her victim are more cowed by the inky blackness, and less able to put up a defence to her machinations when they are awoken suddenly by the headlights of the garda cars ferrying her to the scene of her nocturnal sacrifices? or is there a yet more sinister reason for this, tied up perhaps with practice of the dark arts?

While the sun shines it is easy to be against Ms Helen (or is it Ellinor?) Stone, but after dark …

I wonder what she’s doing for Halloween?

 

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