Minnows make a splash while Cowen's off frying bigger fish
THE opposition parties scented blood . . . and worked themselves into a snapping frenzy of petty piranha yesterday.
Yes, the small fry -- as opposition TDs are ever doomed to be -- were thrashing about in their small pool, all because they had the opportunity.
That's because Brian Cowen was over in Brussels, doing his personal impression of the poor eejit who tried to swim across crocodile-infested waters.
Back in the Dail they were making mischief, these minnows. And this before we'd even got to scheduled statements on the fishing industry.
First to make a splash was Richard Bruton, a silvery-tongued specimen indeed. He protested against the rushing through of the renewal of the Offences Against the State Act in just 50 minutes when people were being caught in the public crossfire every day. Tell that to Brian Cowen.
Then Michael D Higgins, a venerable pike -- bit toothless these days, mind -- slid out from the reeds. Given his erudition, a slight shiver still ran through the government benches as they spotted the threat while angling to get this thing quietly passed.
Michael began worryingly, saying, "I also draw the House's attention to international observation on that kind of thing" -- his rhetoric having briefly abandoned him, so that he sounded like a protester from Fr Ted, with the immortal placard 'Down with this sort of thing'.
Higgins huffed: "The Commission on Human Rights in Geneva commented on the weakness of renewing legislation described as emergency legislation, without taking upon oneself the obligation of specifying either how the original danger had been extended, or was incomplete, or the new circumstances which had emerged . . ."
As we said, toothless. The Government anglers settled back in their little deckchairs and thought about unscrewing the thermos . . .
A pleasant hour went by. Higgins disappeared again, and a few commentators threw their bread upon the water. But soon it would all go nuts.
Then up popped Wee Barry Andrews to politely test the waters about whether we should renew that oul' Prevention of Terrorism yoke for another year.
Charlie Flanagan, Fine Gael 's Justice barracuda, shot out to savage the leg of the boyish minister of state, already out of his depth in his thin waders.
Where was the senior minister? Charlie wanted to know. "Help! Help!" cried the wounded lad, hoping Dermot Ahern would appear and drag him to the bank. Other species piled in. "At a press conference," snarled bottom-dweller Brian Hayes.
And then they were all at it, every single one. Heckle, heckle, they went -- carp, carp, carp! Glug, glug, went the drowning boy, as the Ceann Comhairle rang his bell furiously and finally had to wade in.
They finally got Wee Barry onto the grass and pumped his back until he splurted and coughed. Minister Ahern had to take over. Round one to the pinkie piranhas.
- Senan Molony
