Starting a scrap at an hour of the day before most people have properly inhaled their first mug of tea is just plain uncivilised. But then the gang of shouty fundamentalists who represent the anti-abortion, anti-Lisbon group Coir have little truck with mannerly behaviour as a matter of principle.
enator Paschal Donohoe, chairman of the cross-party talking-shop on how to solve the Lisbon dilemma, should've realised that his first guest speakers of the day, Coir's Richard Greene and Niamh Ui Bhroinn weren't planning on a lengthy and earnest debate on democracy when the pair never bothered to take off their coats.
"I was looking forward to talking to them about constitutional filters," said Paschal afterwards, innocent lamb that he is.
Instead it all kicked off from the opening bell. Richard launched a tirade against the committee members, ranting about their "brazen effrontery and blatant denial of democracy" and warning that "suppressing the sovereign will of the people in such a fashion would be an act of treason, the likes of which has not been seen since the Act of Union".
Paschal tried to reason with him, but he may as well have been speaking in Sanskrit for all the notice Richard and Niamh took of him.
"I will not have a group of people come in here..." he began, before Niamh butted in -- "Who represent 862,000 people", she said triumphantly, displaying a dismaying disregard for factual accuracy, given that a large proportion of the citizenry who voted No to Lisbon would run a mile at being included in Coir's dysfunctional family.
"...And accuse this committee or me of treason, accuse us of trying to bully anybody and make a blatant and failed attempt to subvert our work and accuse us of things which any fair-minded person knows we are not capable of!" continued the outraged chairman.
It all went speedily pear-shaped after that, as debate dissolved into synchronised shouting by the Coir group who then decided to take their bawls home.
"You are dictators!" yelled a hopping-mad Timmy Dooley, and for a moment it looked as if a punch would be thrown at the Clare TD by one of Coir's enraged entourage as they departed.
For the second session of the day, the committee had the bright idea of bringing in a quartet of professional talking-heads and settled on George Hook, Bill Cullen, Eamon Dunphy and Professor Richard Aldous, aka Three Shapers and A Boffin.
"One thing that's certain is that over the next 40 minutes you are going to get opinions," stated George. And by golly he wasn't wrong, as the opinions flew about like snuff at a wake -- but someone getting weepy over the European Union was a new experience altogether.
Bill Cullen was recalling the 1972 Staines air crash which killed 12 Irish businessmen who were en route to Brussels to discuss Ireland's membership of the EEC after the referendum to join had been passed. He then lingered on memory lane to describe Ireland's poverty in the dark days before the Euro gravy-train pulled into the station. "I can remember kids with no shoes on their feet," he choked, fighting back tears.
But thankfully there was plenty of banter too. George and Eamon were a veritable Statler and Waldorf, trading banter like the two grouchy oul' fellas from 'The Muppet Show'. George got most of the best digs in: "If Eamon ever went to school without boots it was because he was too big for them," he sniped to laughter, and then he later remarked on how he listened as his rival "threw his opinions from the ramparts of his chateau in Deauville" -- a reference to Eamon's house in France.
Some of the star-struck committee became quite overcome by the unexpected fun breaking out. Perhaps these entertaining chaps should enter the political arena themselves, they shyly suggested. Bill Cullen seemed quite taken with the idea. "I would get involved, otherwise I'm reneging on myself," he mused aloud. Eamon was both aghast and incredulous at the thought of entering politics. "No way, Jose, I wouldn't vote for me," he cackled.
Between all the showbiz going on around him, UCD's Richard Aldous -- who bears a passing resemblance to Tony Blair -- could've been overshadowed. But he was a beacon of articulate sense amid the spoof. And he did float one idea that gripped the entire committee. He believed that one of the reasons the referendum was defeated was that the campaign lacked a Peter Mandelson-style "strategic supremo" to set the agenda and keep the show on the road. "Someone like PJ Mara," suggested Bill Cullen as his eyes brightened.
And suddenly the way forward for the Yes campaign was crystal clear. Bill Cullen could launch a new reality TV show, 'Search for a Tsar', where he, along with his own Louis and Cheryl helpers George and Eamo would interview prospective supremos.
"I was in the Seanad this morning, there is talent there. I'd like to see some undiscovered political talent out to the forefront," declared Bill.
"I would listen to Bill Cullen talk about Lisbon," announced an inspired Beverly Flynn.
Mark my words -- the audition notices will be going up in the bar of Buswell's Hotel any day now.