Published 06/01/2012 | 05:00
- As the knife is twisted into the working class, in an effort to keep the Bundestag and Paris happy, we await the next wheeze to distract us. The presidential campaign drew fire that the US never met in wildest Afghanistan but kept our minds off the mayhem.
I presume one of the (very well paid) men who advises the Taoiseach follows a band called the Proclaimers. The brothers sang about the rape of Scottish rural life and its export to America. Enda rang America instead. I suppose an adviser deemed it a good idea, the common touch beloved of Bertie, keeping in touch with one's constituency, many of whom are in New York but come from Mayo.
Now we await a flurry of taxes that took the place of last year's snow blizzard. I await a debate about abolishing the Seanad to while away our minds from the various threatening letters clogging our postboxes.