Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

A view of the world from an Irish hole

Category: Irish politics

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Ya said wha’ Gay?

I know that we’re in the Silly Season but the idea of putting up Gay Byrne for president is just pushing the joke too far, For a start he’s passed it. I hear people bristling with indignation and the murmur of “ageism” coming from their skinny lips. I believe that the term refers to the incorrect belief that an older person cannot do the job of a younger person, or at least not with the speed or ability of a younger person. It is therefore wicked and immoral to say that a man or a woman of 60 or 70 cannot carry out the same tasks as someone aged 20, What is the requisite skillset of a president? Cutting ribbons, unveiling plaques and signing your name to legislation. As for sending it to the Supreme Court if it is “repugnant to the constitution” fuck that; it’s a waste of time as they always give it the thumbs up unless it’s about something like employment rights for cripples.  True there are also official visits to places like Kazakhstant but that’s not obligatory. You may also have to accept the credentials of ambassadors but that just takes a shake of the hand so there’s no hassle. These are tasks that could be carried out by a three- or four-year old child, as well as someone aged a hubndred-and-seven.

 You need balls to be President?

The framers of our constitution, in their urge to re-create a system as close to that of England as possible, did not want to imbue the office with any powers. In fact, they ensured that the holder of the presidency would be politically castrated. It might be said that old people are time’s eunuch, castrated by its unstoppable flow (Who said that? er me actually), so an older person fits the bill. The constitution stipulates that the president must be 35 or older and such a clause has long existed in the United States, which has a real executive president and not a wimp as head of state. Sadly there is no upper age limit.

Sin a Fianna Fail

Fianna Fail support for Gaybo is reasonable as they understand the essential impotence of the office. An old person, perhaps growing in infirmity, is castrated by time.  They may be able to rise to the occasion if their pension allows frequent access to the little blue tablets but otherwise they’re fucked – metaphorically. As a result the FFers have always seen the office as a comfortable and gilded old folks’ home, to be given as a reward to elevated party members as a reward for their service, or as a compensation payment for being shafted.

The roll of (dis)honour

  • Sean O Ceallaigh had every reason to expect that he would be named Minister for External Affairs by De Valera, but Dev kept the job and the kudos for himself throughout “The Emergency”, The pay-off came in 1945 when he was nominated for and elected president.
  • When he had served his two terms, what better way was there to reward the 77-year-old long fella than with the presidency?
  •  At the expiration of his term the presidency was thought a fittingly harmless role for the intellectually far too well-equipped Erskine Childers Jr. Poor Dr Childers was not a well man.
  • On his untimely departure from life’s stage he was succeeded by the learned Cearbhall O Dalaigh without an election. President O Dalaigh withstood the petty restrictions of the office, as well as the insults of the political cornerboys of the Fine Gael / Labour coalition until the publican of Monasterboice in a moment of sherry-trifle inspired tiredness and emotion called him a “thundering disgrace”, and he resigned.
  • The coalition, reading correctly that its days were numbered, did not oppose the nomination of Dr Patrick Hillery by Fianna Fail, who was thus being rewarded for his services to the party by a sentence of fourteen years in Aras an Uachtaran from which he was lucky to come out alive.

 The worm turns

 In 1990 Fianna Fail attempted the old strategy by nominating the visibly frail Brian Lenihan Sr. as presidential candidate. By this time Ireland had grown up and realised the Soldiers of Destiny’s cynical ploy. And now they’re at it again. At the Magill Summer School Micheal Martin tried to present himself as a forward-looking politician who had realised that the Irish people had meted out a just and long-deserved punishment on his party. By courting the likes of Gay Byrne as a candidate he shows that this was all bullshit and that he is deeply dded to the Fianna Fail past.

Name recognition

Apart from Gay Byrne’s age, there is also the fact that Fianna Fail has been rattled by the candidacy of my friend and fellow Cavanman Sean Gallagher who has gained public recognition through his appearance on the Dragon’s Den programme. The simpleton from Connemara, Eamon [O] Cuiv is not liked by the electorate – I wonder why? – so they needed someone with name recognition, but Gaybo is yesterday’s man. Gay Byrne has gone down in my estimation by even giving them the time of day, and all his assurances about his campaign being “autonomous” are about as sincere as a debutante’s commitment to her virginity.

 If Gay says no…

 ll is not lost for Fianna Fail if Gay refuses to play ball. I am assured that there are plenty of other broadcasting hasbeens out there who would jump at the chance to come out of senility for one last gig with the added bonus of a plushy pad and, let’s not forget it, the state funeral, so  Tom Carter could stick his funeral expenses policy and the charming carriage clock up his arse. Names that come to mind are:

  • Bunny Carr who charmed generations of Irish people with his quiz show for the intellectually bollixed Quicksilver and who then serenaded those same folk into a calm state before they popped their clogs along with Anne O’Dwyer in everyone’s favourite Going Off; How about
  •  Sonny Knowles? (age 78). He can’t sing any more (could he ever?) but he’d be able to take on most presidential tasks with ,, er … aplomb? 
    Q. What is thirty feet long, has ten teeth and reeks of piss?
    A. The front row at a Sonny Knowles concert. 
    How about
  •  Sean og O Ceallachain (age 88 – now we’re cookin’ baby); all the right cred with the Gah. a familiar voice associated with tranquillity on a Sunday night before the rigours of the week began afresh…  I’ve got it
  • Liam O fuckin’ Murchu (age 82), Bualladh bas agus pog mo hol agus … suck me dick etc.
  • Arthur Murphy (age 80 ish?) who must find life really sucks since they pulled Mailbox on RTE and he no longer had to read out badly spelled missives from irate clerico-fascists from sheets smeared with semen,
  • Donncha O Dulaing (age anyone, must be hitting 80). Very fir for his age. Who can forget his memorable walks in the footseps of O’Sullivan Beare or Eamon De Valera? What’s more, he’s politically safe
  • Brendan Balfe (age 65, not really old enough). According to contacts he’s really pissed off since he got the elbow from RTE. What’s more, he doesn’t seem to have a pension either.
  • Andy O’Mahony. Remember programmes like Dialogue? He’d be just the man in our troubled times. We’d forget we were up shit creek because he’d put us all to sleep.
  • Hal Roach (age 83). Swallow me I’ll be right behind you but … er…no.

Other names crying out to go forward are

  • Podge and Rodge, or their alter ego Fester and Alien
  • Dustin the Turkey
  • Bosco

Don’t be silly I hear you scowl, they’re puppets. So? That’s exactly what the president is.

One final name that springs into the fetid sewers of my memory is

  • Liam Nolan. I recall with nostalgia how, as an undergraduate in Trinity I used to listen to a then pirate radio station in Dublin. First would come Fr Michael Cleary who would give it between the eyes to all the shifty lefties and liberals, and then would give it between the legs to his housekeeper. I recall with fondness his attempts to spur his listeners to go to Knock on pilgrimages. “It’d be a great day out on the train. Ya could go with a flask o’ tea and a couple o’ sanbos, an’ after ya’d done with the prayin’ ya’d be back in De Citty before nightfall.”I recall how he was once telephoned by a distraught parent asking for assistance in tracking down her son’s skate bird. The next morning I met my friend Marc coming out of the Common Room. “I say Marc. A chap has lost his skate board and I was wondering where he might start searching.” “I’m awfully sorry old man but I haven’t the foggiest” he replied. Father Cleary  was followed by Liam Nolan with his mix of “easy listenin’” including Dianna Durban’s Greatest Hits such as “It’s foolish but it’s fun”. He would read from correspondence and it seemed to me that, while those listening to Fr Cleary had real-life problems, those who listened to Liam Nolan had fought the good fight and failed, after which they’d gone into homes for the bewildered. Ni fhecfimid a laethaid ann aris go dteo

Now if that far right birdbrain Dana Rosemary Scallon is thinking of runnng again, what is there to stop Johnny Logan (who won Eurovision one time more than Dana, back when it was worth winning) or Charlie McGettigan?

But honestly, Gay Byrne for President? Stop the shaggin’ lights Bunny.

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Senator David Norris

I do not wish to give an opinion as to whether Senator David Norris was right or wrong to write the letter to the Israeli authorities; neither do I wish to say whether the language he used was appropriate or not After all there are those who are far less morally competent and who are paui far better to be judges. The most relevant judge of his behaviour should be the people of Ireland, though they won’t be allowed a say.

There are a number of questions raised by this whole affair which need answering.

 Who amongst our politicians, when faced with the incarceration of a friend, would not try to help them? The answer is sadly, it depends. I know of numerous TDs and senators who have remained immobile and aloof when friends of theirs are targeted, attacked, their personal affairs rifled through, not because they have committed any crime or pose a threat to the security of the State, but merely because they have been unfortunate enough to come to the attention of some group of public servants such as the Chekists in the Department of Social Victimisation. Such friends will look in vain for any assistance, no matter how innocent they may be. They are told that “The Law must take its course”. The most they can hope for is that the politician will send a pro-forma representation on their behalf to the relevant department, where it is probably sewn at the end of all the other representations and moulded into a roll form prior to deposition in the departmental lavatory. (I am probably mistaken, as most employees of the Department of Social Victimisation are incapable of such a simple action as sewing. They certainly have difficulty dressing themselves.)

 The letter at the heart of this controversy was written in 1997 – fourteen years’ ago. Was it known about earlier, and if so why is it only coming to light now? We often hear about the Americanisation of Irish politics. This is not confined to slick (and sickening) advertisements, carefully choreographed photo opportunities and image building. In the United States political campaigns for elected office are made up of the strategists, the foot soldiers, and those tasked with “getting out” the vote. But another, less public, indeed often invisible element of any campaign is the small yet highly rewarded array of dirt diggers who are committed to trawling through the opponent candidate’s past, whether it be their speeches or their private lives. If insufficient “dirt” can be found on the candidate, the motto “No man (or woman) is an island” comes into play, so the searchlight turns to acquaintances. This is not an inexpensive process, so while some of the sums donated go to the more public face of the campaign (advertising, printing etc.) even larger sums go to these “below the line” (or below the belt) expenses.

 Maybe part of the outrage was that official senate stationery. It has long been accepted that such paper can be used for all sorts of sordid ends, while “Oireachtas envelopes” have been used for distributing “Pro Life” literature and other rubbish from the so-called “religious” right in Ireland. It is also an open secret that they are used by those seeking election to the senate as one of the common currencies for buying votes.

 Vapid and formulaic representations, which are never full of sound or fury but which nevertheless signify nothing, have never been the style of Senator Norris. I have heard Fergus Finlay say that he has been “ architect of his own misfortunes”. So are we now supposed to join hands in jumping on him, and, once satisfied he no longer presents a threat, to dance on his grave? I’ve never viewed David as a politician; he is too earnest and intelligent to be numbere4d amongst that discredited herd.  I am proud to count David Norris as a friend.

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The role of the Presidency in Ireland

I believe we should have a debate about the role of the president. We should have had this debate long ago, and coming up to a presidential election is hardly opportune. It’s like the soul-searching that accompanies senate elections and which crops up the regularity of the story about Red Ken’s vasectomy.

 

The role of the president is enshrined in our constitution, a d0cument written in 1937. Admittedly it provided for a democratic form of government (sort of), no little achievement given that at the time of writing there were many amongst Ireland’s elite, both lay and clerical, who were more sympathetic to the ideals of Mussolini and Hitler. At the time the latter was drawing up his plans for world domination, the former was safely ensconced in the sovereign territory of Ethiopia, and General Franco’s forces were engaged on their campaign of rapine and pillage in Spain.

 But the constitution only provides for quasi democracy. This is clearly evident in the case of nominations for the president. To get on the ballot paper requires the support of twenty members of the Oireachtas OR four county councils. These are mostly elected by the people, but hardly ever at a time near to the presidential election. It is at best an indirect form of democracy. Furthermore, some members of the Seanad are appointed by the Prime Minister, not elected by the restricted Seanad electorate, while others may owe their membership to the death or resignation of a colleague. This holds true of County Councils, where such co-options are made by the party or parties in control, not according to the party background of the person in whose room the co-option in being made.  The will of the electorate may be openly flouted, as those appointed or co-opted have already been given the thumbs-down at the most recent elections.

 We have a form of controlled democracy, where the big political parties have an automatic “by” into the nomination process, and where it is difficult, though not impossible, for an independent to enter. Various opinion polls (not the same as an election granted) have found that the electorate’s preferred candidate for president was Senator David Norris. Even prior to the most recent controversy, he was having difficulty in gaining a nomination. Whatever he did or didn’t do should have been judged by the electorate, not by The Sunday Independent or a couple of independent TDs who obviously got cold feet about backing an openly gay candidate.

 If we want to make the office of president more relevant to the Irish people we should change the constitution to allow for nomination by certain approved bodies like professional and sporting organisations, trades unions and charities to name a few. (but not political parties). Alternatively a person could gain entry onto the ballot paper by collecting a set number of signatures.

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Lead kindly light

So FAS has now become Solus. I remember when FAS was launched; people said that what ANCO used to be called before it went bust. Before we all became green and environmentally aware we used to use Solus bulbs. This is relevant for the new organisation which I fear will inherit the culture of the old. How many Solus employees will it take to change a light bulb? At least a thousand; one to hold the bulb and 999 Solus officials to turn the room around, but we mustn’t forget the special, highly-paid consultants brought in at enormous cost from abroad to give their opinions on office lighting, as well as the cost of printing their report on the glossiest of paper. By this time though the money will have run out and so there won’t be any left for changing the bulb.

 FAS was charged with providing training that was supposed to lead to jobs. Unfortunately there was a mismatch between the courses and employment trends, so the courses were often irrelevant and useless. Certificates were sometimes not issued to those who had pursued the courses and the only people who seemed to secure jobs as a result of FAS’ activity were those employed already by FAS. And perhaps it is best to forget the way in which FAS was used as a private holiday club by a group of former directors, offering only first class flights and accommodation in five-star resorts.  FAS / Solus (whatever it is called) is big on intentions, but I somehow think the delivery will fall short of expectation.

 I was looking for an alternative name for the organisation. The closest I could come to was fearradh, which de Bhaldraithe’s dictionary says is the Irish for faeces.

 

 

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Lie to me

A few months’ ago Enda Kenny and Eamon Gilmore promised that there would be no further cuts in social welfare payments in the forthcoming budget, and unfortunately many people believed them. As for Kenny the only people who believe anything that comes out of that joker’s mouth is The Vatican, and we all know what a shower of pricks they are. As for Eamon Gilmore (yawn) he’s making me feel very old. I remember when he was a sticky.

 Minister for Social Victimisation Joan Burton has commitment issues, as she can’t make a commitment that there will not be cuts in benefits. She is talking some gibberish about getting greater value for money. What does she mean? One way would be to make the unemployed work for their dole by taking part in road gangs, or maybe cleaning out ministers’ gardens. Her department has long believed in the criminalisation of poverty and the first step towards this will be mandatory fingerprinting of all dole recipients, ostensibly in the interests of stamping out on that great evil Social Welfare Fraud. Done away with will be the nonsense that people are entitled to welfare benefits. It will be spelled out in no uncertain terms, that ALL welfare benefits are discretionary and are only to be made at the discretion of an employee of the Department. (Legislation to this effect already exists, having been passed by the last government but no one seems to have noticed it.) As for special benefits like the blind pension they may be made only to those people who prove unambiguously that they are totally blind by attempting to cross a busy road or street in the face of on-coming traffic, while unmarried mothers will be offered a choice between sterilization or having their children forcibly adopted and brought up by known abusers. This may sound tough, but it is only by tough decisions that our budget deficit will be reduced and our nation made safe for spivs to live in.

 The minister is being insincere, as any attempt to introduce greater value for money will be conducted by her own departmental officials who are part of the Civil Service, where work is an unwelcome activity that occasionally breaks out between coffee breaks or maternity leave, not to mention Flexitime – the phenomenon whereby nobody need be at their desks at any particular time. If the minister were sincere about introducing greater value for money in her department she’d downsize her staff. Who would employ those who would lose their jobs? There is only a limited demand in Ireland for lion tamers and snake charmers.

 The funny thing is that Joan Burton showed no such commitment issues when she got into bed with the blueshirts; she must have been aware that she was going to get fucked. She may not have realised that she was going to get fucked up the ass, not only by Kenny’s gang, but by her own party. She felt miffed at only getting the portfolio of Social Victimisation – widely seen as a poisoned chalice. I believe that it should be seen as an important ministry, not like the Cinderella portfolio of say Defence. Joan Burton is a clever and articulate person, and such a person is needed to face down the neo-fascists in that department. Yet I hope that she is prepared to fight to defend the rights of those who, like myself, are dependant on benefit payments. I fear that an Italian proverb is coming true. Chi va con lo zoppo impara zoppicare, Whoever walks with the lame learns to limp, or in the case under discussion is returned to, if your work involves dealing with a pack of inveterate liars you soon develop an elastic attitude towards the truth.

 If the Blind Pension is reduced for yet a third tune many blind people will be reduced to selling lottery tickets in the street as in Spain, or maybe begging at corners. The response of the voluntary organisations would no doubt be to urge the blind to relocate to special hostels where they would be fed on a diet of scraps and food donated by the public. My response would be to take to the streets and I would not be the only one.

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Enda the lawyer lashes out at the Druids

 

Some are calling Kenny’s tirade against Vatican interference in Ireland’s affairs a historic moment in the history of church and state. Certainly there are few – but they exist – who would disagree with the Prime Minister of a so-called liberal democracy castigating a state founded by a fascist government, which is ruled by old men and where there is no pretence of democracy which has sought to undermine efforts to protect his citizens from acts of sexual abuse. But, and there is a big but, why has it taken so long for an Irish government to get touch with the Vatican? The crimes of commission by a handful of priests and the crimes of omission committed by their bishops who protected them or moved them to locations where they could continue their foul deeds, have been known about by the dogs in the street for decades. It would only be a radical lefty with no hope of getting anywhere in Irish politics who would have given voice to such “slanders” against the church. The former bishop of Kilmore Dr Francis McKiernan, was never in any doubt that secular authority was always subservient to religious authority, and I don’t think he was unique amongst the Irish hierarchy in this.

 But there is one other aspect of Kenny’s speech which renders it more hypocritical. The Catholic Church, quite rightly, must be condemned for what it has done. If we were to believe Kenny it is the church and it alone who is at fault. What about the state authorities, the police, the health boards etc. who were also aware of what was going on, and who did sweet FA about it? Another area of deafening silence (excuse the cliché, but when talking of dishonesty I feel it is the most appropriate language) is that child abuse is continuing in Ireland as I write this, but the worst villains aren’t priests, but agents and employees of the state who work in centres charged with the “care” of young adults and children, or those involved in foster-care. The One-in-Four organisation has alleged that as many as nine out of ten reports of child abuse are not being investigated by the Health Service Authority, while the foster care regime in Dublin has been described as being in crisis, with many fosterers’ backgrounds not being checked.

 Those people who abuse children, the vulnerable, or indeed old people in nursing homes are truly evil, as evil as Josef Fritzl. But there are certain government departments, some of whose staff members are equally evil and cowardly. I sometimes think that such evil is a necessary prerequisite for their promotion. They often have free rein in committing acts of evil against those they believe to be too weak or frightened to defend themselves , and in a climate of economic hardship they can defend any action that saves money – and may very well be rewarded for it. Politicians seem either unable or unwilling to do anything about this. However many members of the church, the many good priests that Diarmuid Martin rightly talks about, are made fully aware of the victimisation of the poor and vulnerable carried on by the state. But no religious person would be allowed to defend them, as their criticisms of government policy would be swiftly swept aside with a remark such as “Who are you to talk?”

There is however a litmus test to Kenny’s sincerity. Does he support a possible Papal visit next year? This would be an opportunity for those elitist and narcissistic elements in the Vatican to come to Ireland, to strut their stuff, maybe to check out “The scene”. It would also be an opportunity for those whom Diarmuid Martin rightly refers to as a “cabal” within the Vatican and the Irish hierarchy to be rewarded for protecting child abusers. But there is one very practical reason why it should not go ahead. We can’t afford it.

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Promises are made of …

Enda the lawyer has shown that he wants to give Santa claus a run for his money by promising 165 jobs for Co. Galway in a factory making wind-breaking machines for politicians  But be waned. Can he be trusted? Personally if Enda Kenny wants to don a red cloak and a white beard I would be tempted to sing those words penned by the Australian balladeer Kevin Bloody Wilson:

 Santa Claus you cunt,
Where’s me fuckin’ bike?
I’ve unwrapped all me presents
And there’s nothing here I like …

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Shame on you Minister Burton

The Minister for Social Victimisation has announced a series of cowardly reductions in the supplements for fuel, telephone calls gas and electricity. In the case of the latter, these have been reduced to 2007 levels, this at a time when many providers are announcing increases3s in their charges. This is expected to lead to savings of 17 million euro in 2011 – less than the amount spent over a few days in May on the visit of Queen Elizabeth and President Obama, The decisions regarding these reductions are particularly hypocritical, given that they have been made and will be implemented by people who inhabit well-heated offices from where they have access to unlimited quantities of free telephone calls.

 Eamon Gilmore’s defence of these cuts is both mealy-mouthed and pathetic. It’s no good blaming them on the previous government; you’re in charge now and you are under no obligation to implement them if you feel that they are unjust. But the Labour Party is led by a crowd of “comrade comfies” and pork-scratching “socialists”, for whom anything is just and acceptable so long as it keeps them at the trough of power. What’s more they are typical spineless  politicians, unable to stand up to their un-elected mandarins.

 I state again that this government is continuing the unpublished policy of its predecessor towards the old and infirm. This is nothing other than euthanasia. The hope is that the greater the level of discomfort, the quicker old people will die. A winter like the last one should thin their numbers, especially if they can’t afford to heat themselves. They may also die of loneliness, as they will be afraid to use their telephones. Let’s not forget thei shameful and cynical racket pursued by their buddies in the Departmenjt of the Environment which has seen many old and infirm people robbed of their postal votes. Without a vote they are of little interest to the politicians.

Of course this policy is not literally euthanasia. The term comes from the Greek and the prefix ευ implies pleasantness, whereas the type of θάνατος or death envisioned by these shameless cowards will be anything but pleasant.

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Kenny the lawyer

We all know that Enda Kernny is a schoolteacher by profession, but some will recall the incident when the late Frank Sherwin stated in the Dail that the then taoiseach, John A. Costello, was a liar. He was immediately upbraided by the Ceann chomhairle, but Frank responded by saying he had merely stated that he was a lawyer.

 Now Enda Kenny7’sw refusal to come clean about his statements regarding Roscommon hospital remind me of the joke about the guy from the wrong side of the tracks who is boxing above his weight in the relationship stakes. He had met a girl from a very rich family and they decide to get married. Her family is naturally horrified, but they decide to invite him to dinner at their mansion. The meal goes very well until the end of the final course when our hero unmistakeably breaks wind with a multi-barrel fart, causing the cut glass crystal on the table to shatter. What should he do? Should he:

         A       Make a bee-line for the nearest exist and disappear back into the ghetto?B

.          B.   Take out his cheque-book and offer to pay for any damage? Or

          C.       Stand up on his chair and challenge anyone present to do better?

 I think Enda has gone for option C, but he may find he face3s a lot of competition from other fibbing politicians of all parties.

 But honestly, he should do the decent thing and sign up for the next series of What’s my lie?

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Fine Gael’s Presidential Quick-pick

The Fine Gael party has finally chosen a candidate for the presidency. I suppose he was the best of a really bad lot. Gay (by name, not by lifestyle choice) Mitchell came out of the selection convention yesterday. Mr Mitchell has denied claims that he wants to make the Aras into a sanctuary for penguins, claiming there’s lready a zoo in Phoenix Park..

Mairead Magennis was truly embarrassing with her continued emphasis on getting a blue … Fine Gael person into the presidency. It was about time that there was a Fine Gael President she intoned. This was unseemly. The holder of the office of president must be above narrow party politics and would be best to be a truly independent figure. The president must represent all sections of the Irish population, not just one particular patronage group. She spoke of the presidential office as if it were no more than the chairmanship of a town council or a Vocational Education Committee in Co. Leitrim. I think the success of Fine Gael in the last elections have gone to their head. I honestly think that had Mairead got the nod and (God preserve us) been elected, the Aras would have been painted blue on the inside and outside. Her candidacy was inspired by a desire to have someone who had been on television and in the public eue torival Sean Gallagher, but the FGers got their fingers burnt before – remember the George Lee fiasco, and Mairead was all they could get after Bunny Carr’s refusal to seek the nomination.

And then there was Pat Cox. His candidacy would have appealed, it was hoped, to all the political parties he has been a member of. He started out with Fianna Fail, then jumped ship to the Progressive Democrats became an independent when they disintegrated and now he’s with the Blueshirts. The only problem is that Pat is an incredibly arrogant and self-opinionated person who has insulted people in every political organisation of which he has been a member. I can’t really have imagined Cox asking anyone for a vote. Instead he would have responded to any erstwhile offers of support with a sneering “and why should I accept a vote from you?”  His political future now looks bleak. However his surname may save him. With a name like Cox he had to be a sexpert like his namesake Tracy Had he been elected certain figures in the porn industry like Hugh Heffner and Ben Dover would have had a field day. It has emerged that  anonymous backers of Cox planned to turn  into a clinic for all sorts of men’s problems from gonorrhoea to premature ejaculation, as well as a venue for seminars on how to give your woman satisfaction, in which he might be assisted by a pal from his PD days, Mary Harney.

Isn’t it a shame that they held the auditions on a Sunday, that way making sure no Protestant could put their head up.

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