The headline should really have been... um...

Getting the Irish Times via RSS as I do, I occasionally suffer some slight bemusement when I see a headline without context (I've sort-of mentioned this phenomenon previously). The headline on this particular occasion — Over 51,000 illegal drugs seized — caused confusion for slightly different reasons; I just assumed (but wasn't entirely sure) that it was a bad headline.

"Pah!" quoth I to no one in particular. "Fifty thousand drugs? Surely not. They must mean €50 000 worth of drugs, or perhaps fifty thousand, er..."

Okay, that's why they did it. There was no pithy way (that sprung to my mind) of saying "tablets or other similar items". The nearest I could manage was "units of illegal drugs", and that could generously be described as "inelegant" in the context of a headline.

So the sub ed failed in his job, and gave us a crappy headline.

Except he didn't.

Of Course We Should Call It a Bailout

Looking back on the past few weeks, it's strange to see how naïve we were as a country. The fear was palpable as the spectre of the IMF loomed over us. Repeated assurances from the government that no digout would be necessary were ignored by everyone; we knew we were fucked. Fianna Fáil were in a position that may well have been unique; we've spent decades assuming that they were all crooks, but now we're not so sure. Can it be that Biffo and his minions were merely being incompetent? That rather than being the mendacious fuckers that tradition and experience would paint them, they were simply incapable of doing anything even remotely effective?

Did You Threaten to Overrule Him?

I've been noticing for a while now a tendency among some interviewers towards a somewhat combative attitude to their guests when I'm listening to or watching political programmes. It has its place, of course, and some of Jeremy Paxman's interviews are highly entertaining for that very reason. However, it seems that all too often the point is not to elicit information but to get the guest to say something -- anything -- he doesn't want to say. And I regret to inform you that RTÉ Radio's political discussion programme The Late Debate has joined the hallowed ranks of programmes that have me yelling at the presenter rather than the guests.

Plus ça Change, Plus c'est la Même Chose

When the story first appeared in the Sunday Independent — officially Ireland's worst newspaper — two thoughts popped into everyone's head:

1. What a dick.
2. The timing means this can't be anything but a leak orchestrated by Fianna Fáil.

I Sentence You to Three Hail Marys

There are a few points to be made about this story, and I honestly don't know how I feel about any of them.

Anyway, it seems that a young man got pissed and slagged off a Guard. Did he do so because of a deep and abiding mistrust of authority? It seems not. Apparently, it was because the poor Guard happened to be from Mayo. It further seems that aforementioned Guard, with admirable loyalty to his home county, took umbrage with these remarks, and so it is that we hear in the court record about being told to "Fuck off back to Mayo". This is fairly unambiguous. Less so is the epithet "Mayo wanker". Are all people from Mayo wankers? Does this particular member of An Garda Síochána stand out by being one of the few wankers from Mayo? We may never know. Those of us in the Capital have only Enda Kenny to serve as a basis for judgement, and I doubt that's fair on the rest of the county. The ginger tosser.

More fascinating than the onanistic habits of our Mayo brethren, though, is the sentence. Being told to climb Croagh Patrick and say a few prayers? Really? In the twenty-first fucking century?

However, it's not necessarily a bad thing. This guy got drunk and told a guard to fuck off; hardly the stuff criminals are made of and prison, or even a fine, would've been over the top. If he can get away with a walk up a mountain, then all is well. Let us not forget, though, that during pilgrimage season there are ample opportunities for "where is your god now" comments as myriad holy joes (and josephines) are injured in the ascent every year.

And he has to say a few prayers, too. This is the dubious bit. You'd really think the judge would know better. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to have specify the recipient of these prayers. Should our friend bring a camcorder to the top of the hill and film himself imploring Satan to smite his enemies, then mission accomplished. I personally would prefer a prayer to Thor, entreating him to save us all from Thanos. But that's just me.

I suspect that in the days to come the Irish Times will be replete with letters from angry, bolshy atheists, and equal numbers from those who say "ah, sure, what's the harm?". Both sides will have a point, which should make it really interesting.

Fianna Fáil Minister in "Smart Move" Shock

A couple of days ago, our esteemed Minister of Science, Conor Lenihan, pulled out of a book launch at the request of its author, John May. The book, The Origin of Specious Nonsense, is about how there's no such thing as evolution by natural selection, and that everything we know about science is wrong.

Just to repeat. Our Minister of Science was launching a book that denied evolution. And did he back out because the idea of a Minister of fucking Science launching such a thing would make us the laughing stock of the entire planet (some southern states of the US excepted)? No. He did it because the author, who obviously had more cop on, requested that he do so.

Clarifying One's Position

It seems that our beloved Justice Minister has seen it necessary to clarify his position with regard to statements he made yesterday. Statements that, on the face of it, seemed fucking insane but now, in the cold light of day, can be recognised as typical Fianna Fáil bullshit that in this instance also happen to be fucking insane.

I mention this not to shoot the barrel of fish that is our state of governance, but rather to ponder on the nature of that phrase 'clarify his position'. It's a stock phrase that, if not a full-blown cliché, is certainly on its way to becoming one. A quick search on google reveals over 350,000 pages that include it. Those pages - a sampling of them, anyway - tend to be in one of two camps; either an outraged A was calling on B to clarify his position on C, or B was doing the clarifying of his own volition. Ahern will doubtless take solace in the knowledge that in clarifying his position in the way that he did, he was following a well-trodden path.

Ahern said that Irish banks may need to impose much larger ATM fees on their customers if the number of bank robberies involving hostage taking is to be reduced. It seems fairly unambiguous, but today he clarified. "I wasn’t suggesting that more taxes or more charges should be put on people," quoth he.

So now you know. To clarify one's position is to say "I didn't say that" without actually using words that can be contradicted by people with recording equipment.