Clarifying Labour's Position on Abortion

Labour has come in for some criticism about its vote on Clare Daly's private member's bill this week in the Dail. On the surface, it looks like Labour's TDs voted against legislating for abortion. It's time to set the record straight, before misconceptions spiral out of control.

Labour TDs - the ones who were turned up - didn't vote against abortion, they simply didn't vote for legislating for the X-Case and that's totally different. Furthermore, the voting strategy of Labour had nothing to do with parliamentary gamesmanship or engaging party political tactics. This was about waiting for the report from the Expert Group - the bits that weren't leaked - and coming to a rational and responsible  decision in due course, a mere 20 years after the Supreme Court were capricious enough to rule in favour of a teenage rape victim terminating a pregnancy she never wanted.

Having come out from under their desks, Labour are now standing tall (look at Brendan Howlin) and taking a principled lead. Never mind that every Fine Gaeler, the TDs of the senior coalition partner, voted against the bill. Sure, FG is the party of Michelle Mulherin, the Devil's Nuala, and stands for cut backs to, well, everyone. Literally. With a machete. At least that's how it's been since Garret left and took the party's only functioning braincell back to Palmerstown Road without telling Alan Dukes.

No no, Labour are making a brave stand for proper legisl...regul....whatever Eamon and Enda tell them to stand for, and not what James Reilly blurts out either and then flatly denies saying, one second later.

This is about leadership and meeting groups of experts. Nothing more. All in its own good time.

This is intellectual rigour (mortis). 

Yes. But No.

The shock result of the referendum - and we're only talking in preliminaries, so we can't leap to judgement - is that 40% of people don't like children, and  - quel surprise - many of them are working class. The shock result - and we can't leap to judgement - from the preliminary results is clear: knackers hate children.

Anyone who voted no obviously has contempt for the progenitors of ruined dinners out, pub floors sticky with Club Orange and King Crisps, for Star Wars' Jar Jar Binks and the scourge of Balamory. None of the no votes have anything to do with the government, side isues, a lack of understanding of the reasons for the amendment, moral, ethical or legal reasons; and absolutely nothing to do with the arch villain of the Yes campaign, Alan Shatter. Anyone who voted no gleefully slips notes under the doors of National Schools with the phrase 'There is no Santa' scrawled in crayon, and they genuflect when they hear the theme song to Jim'll Fix It.

I would instinctively have voted yes. Reading the proposed amendment, however, I noticed it did a passable impression of half baked adoption legislation being shoehorned into the constitution. The constitution, as I understand it, is a basic law upon which the legal and ethical principals of a state are based, not the day to day laws which emanate from it.  To me, the presence of specific sanctions regarding adoption lead to unease about voting yes. As I considered my vote, should I have taken a leap of faith that politicians will always do and say what is right, or should I demand greater intellectual rigour in creating the laws of the land?  

Could this issue have been dealt with in legislation? Were all avenues exhausted in dealing with the nuts and bolts details of adoption legislation, of child welfare legislation, before taking the drastic and costly step of amending the constitution, a step that needs careful and intelligent judgement. 

Furthermore, given the comments of someone like Alan Shatter - who appears to gleefully wallow in his own perceived (and utterly misplaced) superiority over anyone who disagrees with him - a yes vote begins to wobble. What I had as misgivings about the amendment, has lead to one clear decision: following his masterclass in pomposity on Radio One this morning, I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever *breathes in* EVER vote as directed by Minister Shatter, without prior legal and psychiatric advice.
 
The local yahoos who spoiled their votes with tiresome slogans about Sean Quinn are in the extreme minority. And there is admittedly also a teeny weeny minority who will always be too stupid to vote even in the X-Factor. The right wing nutters who think the constitutional amendment would allow children to be taken away on the whim of the state were negligible in number, but they were noisy and disingenuous, and got airtime thanks to that annoying but necessary evil, the McKenna judgement. That's before any Supreme Court judgement makes the yes campaign look like they're trying to pull a fast one over the electorate, even if that appearance is entirely unfounded, giving the nutters unwelcome ammo.   

Not everyone who voted no, however, could possibly be extremist or stupid. Not everyone who voted no can have had a disregard for the rights of children or be susceptible to conspiracy theories.  And not everyone who voted no has contempt for the rights of children.

I didn't like the amendment, because it looked like Fisher Price legal practice attempting to address (ironically) very grown-up legal problems. Rather than poo poo the levels of the no vote and the low turn out, those in power need to examine how they deal with complex constitutional issues and how they choose to debate its (de-) merits. In a country that has failed children as spectacularly and as criminally as Ireland, in a society that connived either by action or by silence in the treatment of children, this referendum campaign did absolutely nothing to make amends. 

  

 

Christmas.Yes. Already.

I never new that we were the highest spenders per household in Europe for Christmas. Absolutely amazing. According to businessetc.ie, Irish households will spend "€965.80 with an average €499.60 spend on gifts". Brilliant - Whilst everyone else in the EU dines on water and a side order of misery, I'll be live-skyping myself devouring Turkey stuffed with pheaseant, stuffed with foiegras, chestnusts and some IOUs into the spartan dining rooms of Berlin and Athens.    

Another interesting fact from this report was that the average socializing spend this year will amount to €177.90. The average punter in 2006 would have taken that out as 'just in case money' going up and down Wexford Street, whilst Bertie smirked at us benevolently from every street corner. I once ordered a €6 pint of Guinness - it was not, as you'd imagine for the price, poured personally by Arthur Guinness, as the Rolling Stones did an acoustic set just for little me. It was in fact bought in a crowded city center boozer, where everyone was hammered and the music was awful. The only thing impressive was that it didn't kill me: It was the worst pint I ever drank and tiny Euro symbols got lodged in my windpipe. 

It leads me to wonder about other numerical figures that came out today and what they say about Ireland; the pay of some IRBC executives tipping the half million mark being one, the greatest irony being that Fianna Fail's Michael McGrath asked the question to get the answer. FF as the 'bFF' of probity and prudence? I even spotted a Tamworth outside wearing a bomber jacket and goggles, reading a well-thumbed copy of 'Biggles'.  

Another startling stat was in education. 90% of the total secondary school population now goes to complete their schooling. Fifteen years ago it was just over 80%. The worst performing areas are Limerick and Dublin cities. In other news, bears seen sensationally walking towards forest with bumper pack of Charmin loo-roll to prove a point. So poor is the state of Irish education that the question has to be asked, how many students could actually spell 'Biggles' at a push? Answers on a postcard to Enda. He's not in the office today, so be patient.  

Ready for Take Off...

The fact that more kids are staying in school comes from the welcome realization that education is important, even with catastrophic stats in student retention, literacy and numeracy, science, languages and a child health and nutrition time-bomb ticking louder by the day; not to mention that we have the lowest rate of investment in education of any EU country. We're a country with fabulous petrol stations and shabby looking outhouses for kids to learn in.

All our problems, however, are about to be solved! We've got a referendum on children on Saturday. If the turnout's high enough for a No vote, then children will be abolished. We'll use the freed up cash to develop a time machine, so uncle Arthur can pull me a decent pint. Alternatively, though more realistically, we could plump up the IRBC's executive wage bill.

It's all about priorities.  


     

Satire: Death by a thousand writs

Anglo: the Musical sounds really promising. It appears to be a comedy about, but more importantly, a satire of our recent turmoil, thanks in huge part to the eponymous bad bank. Sadly, the main man in the whole sorry saga cannot, for legal reasons, be mentioned. His puppet is put back in its box, never to be seen again. And so it's now a comedy show with its of laughs and funny songs, but how much satire survives? Will it stand up with this last minute rewrit(e) or have the killjoys successfully come out to play?    

The response of the show's producers, as reported in the Indo, is like a face of bravery being slapped onto a freshly shot corpse. The law getting involved is no problem: they (the show's writers) "are writing a puppet based musical comedy. It is very funny and we are being responsible in making it." The troublesome 's-word' is missing from the copy. The job of a spokesman is sometimes utterly unenviable.

It's nice to know Anglo is funny and it's reassuring the show's makers have been 'responsible', I was worried about the possibility of 'irresponsible' satire. Anglo has been treated to an insidious and kafkaesque kind of censorship, namely censorship by reasoned legal advice. The intervention of the DPP and Seanie Fitz's lawyers, while legally justifiable, means an opportunity for creating satire may be lost, and satire is a rare and delicate thing in a cozy little country like Ireland - by extension, free speech, a property equally challenged in Ireland, will be just a little more eroded.

More disgusting than disquieting is complete absence of anger among the public. So blind are the regular folk of Ireland to the wrongness of the country's continuing struggle to mete out justice in the aftermath of our economic collapse.

Meanwhile, the most telling satire was found in real life, a mere mile from the Bord Gais Energy Theater, where TD Stephen Donnelly took on the head of Bank of Ireland, Richie Boucher. This one the lawyers couldn't kill, as Stephen repeatedly hectored Boucher to explain the definition and calculation of negative equity. Each time he received the same mumbled answer, straight from Planet Stonewall. Exasperated by the end, Donnelly, who excellently recapped Boucher's responses for the plain people of Ireland watching on YouTube, described the BOI boss's testimony witheringly as being "most illuminating". The Oireachtas Finance Committee Chair was, tellingly, was more deferential to Boucher in thanking him for his presence. Anthony Jay and Jonathan Lynn could not have scripted anything finer. In Ireland, however, we nix that at the outset, all satire is short lived or incidental. 

The real life heroes and villains have, inevitably, kept the best material for themselves. Between the actors in our little economic tragedy and the state's own lawyers, we can't successfully fight to get a platform to describe our ruined reality. Maybe we're not deserving of satire or the efforts of those who wish to produce it, or, indeed, of justice in the aftermath of our banking crisis. That would be "entirely our own fault".   
 

Aviva Zapata - Notes on the Lansdowne Massacre

When the final whistle went, with the crowds already streaming out, the score said it all. As cheery quips about Angela Merkel are replaced with recriminations and accusations, one fact has already presented itself: The scoreline was extremely flattering. To us. We were hockeyed last night and the visitors should have won in double figures.

Herr Oezil sagt hallo

Never mind the fact that Marco Reus has hairdo like a 1980's Lesbian baddy from a sub-Lethal Weapon comedy thriller. Never mind that the creators of Ren and Stimpy do double takes each time the camera closes up on Mesut Oezil. Germany were something else last night. They had style, finesse, interesting hair (see above) and they had the killer instinct. A team of devastating substance.

There's going to be a lot of talk about Trap (he should go - duh!), that the players aren't of the calibre we need to perform, their confidence went, bla, bla, bla. A lot of excuses and platitudes. The scoreline, the Lansdowne Massacre, showed a gulf between the two sides. This was not a gulf in class, however, but in work ethic. The two teams had more in common than you think, which makes last night all the more frustrating, and anger being an all the more welcome emotion among the Irish sporting public.

Both teams have coaches who need to justify themselves in the eyes of many. Both teams have players, whose commitment to the cause has been called into question by more than just the die hard Dunphys and malcontents. Germany's side has been in the firing line since they failed to turn up against Italy in the Euros, whom they themselves flattered after their blue-tinted humbling in Warsaw: some players wouldn't sing Germany's anthem, an indication of a lack of pride when compared to the Italians; a lack of hunger, an absence of desire to get down and dirty with teams who aren't willing to let them play their brand of Sexy-Fussball. The word Weicheier kept getting trotted out in the German press - these guys, literally their cojones, were too soft. 

The scoreline, and that it should have been worse, is a testament to us not getting the point and needing to be punished for it. In football, as in economics, as in social policy, as in most aspects of life, we are too insular for our own good; too unwilling to look beyond our anglophone comfort zone to see what to do right; too unwilling to prise our heads from that familiar English speaking dark place to get the point and get on with it.

Germany are only as good as they are today, because ten years ago, a guy from the German FA traveled up and down the country doing coaching clinics to identify new talent and emphasize fine ball control skills. They even went to Mecklenburg, a godforsaken place with a population of one inbred stork, some lonely looking skinheads sitting on a sand dune, and Toni Kroos. They found him on Germany's Craggy Island and nurtured his talent in elite training schemes. They put in the spade work and look what happened: Hard work pays off.

Too often we're about the quick fix, be it in terms of our economy - Bertie's Ponzi scheme Tiger - or indeed our football - sign up for any oul' English club and toil away at Rochdale for the rest of your life. How ambitious! Imagine if we were as flighty, as whimsical, as romantic as we are, but were rigorous and brave in what we did as well.

Like Mrs. Doyle, we are hardship fetishists. We get off on the misery. Imagine if we were all that but also diligent, organized, open minded and had a plan as well. We shouldn't be so ignorant of Germany, or indeed ignorant of so many other non-English speaking countries that do things better than us. Despite the abundance of raw talent we so patently have in every corner of life, we have done little more than regress to scraping moral victories. We deserved to be punished last night, if only to remind us that we are capable, if not deserving, of so much better. 
    

We come in Peace, We leave in Pieces.

It's important to know when you're beaten. Labour are stubbornly unaware. Which is why it's important.  And because it's important, Labour are stubbornly unaware. Go figure.

It's also normal to back up members of your own party when they are attempting to execute the policies agreed in the program for government. Save in the event that circumstances dictate otherwise, or under the following exceptions:

• Enda said so. 
• James Reilly threatened to sit on your chest unless you let him put primary care centers wherever he bloody well liked. 
• You got Foreign Affairs and just don't give a monkey's any more, because you're like Dick Spring and that's all that matters now. 
• The party colleague seeking your support is a girl.

This last point really haunts me, because of an inescapable and thoroughly overlooked fact:  the Cabinet is a collection of older men, the cabinet table groaning under the weight of dandruff and empty packets of Complan. They are collectively as old as the remaining members of The Grateful Dead would be if accurate Carbon 14 Dating could indeed used to gauge their accurate age. Michael Noonan is so senior, he was able to cry 'sketch!' just as Kevin O'Higgins came out of mass declaring 'Thank God that Civil War is finally over!'

What's more, whilst Enda Kenny put on his curious statesman face for the cover of Time - that one which is one part Liam Cosgrave to two parts Quentin Crisp- Labour, having faced down their nemesis when she resigned last week, want to summon the remaining faithful to the Red Flag over the issue of fee paying schools. 

Coalition Leaders

If this were a TV show, we'd watching a long forgotten episode of Steptoe and Son. Enda is Harold, sitting in a tin bathtub with his hat on. You can guess that in Harry H. Corbett's stead is one E. Gilmore of "leafy" Dun Laoghaire. Eamon's declaring he'll leave, shouting 'You horrible little man!', just as Enda, having goaded Eamo to go, looks at him with puppy dog eyes and asks manipulatively, 'You'd never leave me would you, Eamon?' You know what happens.

An historical note: Harry Corbett, a gifted stage actor, played Hamlet after Steptoe. The story is that no one took him seriously after his stint on the telly with Wilfred Brambell. A similar fate awaits Mr. Gilmore, beloved of his credibility.
   
I'm no betting man, but this is my prediction, and I tend to be right about this - one of the following will happen: a) James Reilly will resign following the botched announcement on the fate of the National Children's Hospital (b) FG will force a Labour climbdown over fee paying schools and make Gilmore's position untenable, or (c) the only thing flakier than ministerial scalps come budget time will be Labour's grassroots. After the dizzying spectacle of total implosion on Merrion Street, we'll all wake up and realize it was all a dream; that Enda Kenny is in fact a lizard from the same planet as Robert Englund in the original series of V, and thus barred from standing for a seat in Mayo, reptiles traditionally running in Roscommon-Leitrim, miles away from Castlebar.  

Following the ensuing and inevitable anti-Gilmore heave and FG's 'grand' coalition (as in, 'sure it'll be grand') with FF, Labour will be lead by a jar of Chiver's Lemon Curd. Its interpersonal skills may be untested, but can only be better than those of the incumbent - through sheer charisma it'll maintain a respectable showing at the polls in March 2013: irrespective of an actual election, it'll show up, just looking respectable, occasionally even letting the women get a look in.
 

 




   

Sick in Swords?

We watched with fascinated horror as Minister James Reilly began the last phase of his career as Health Minister. Denial and anger both came in quick succession, depression and acceptance are soon to come. This is not a good time for the biggest of Enda's cabinet of rubber lions.

Swords and Balbriggan are two places in Reilly's constituency, and close to his political heart. They were shoehorned onto a list of places which are to get primary care centres. Admittedly, Swords is a rapidly expanding urban area, whose population exploded during the 'good times', thanks to what we now know to have been largely short-sighted property wheezes, when Ray Burke was the tallest hog in that particular trough. Like all such farm yard animals, he was up to his curly tail in property swill, and despite Bertie's tree climbing escapades, it turned out that this little piggy had to go wee-wee-wee all the way to Dublin Castle.

Interesting about Swords is that one of the first things to be built amid the miles and miles of suburban beigeness was not a school or a hospital, but a shopping centre. Public transport wasn't updated, and so many commute from within the pale as if they were country students hanging out on George's Quay on a Friday, hoping to bus it home to mammy in Galway or Castlecomer or god-knows-where with a smile and a bag full of skundies; which is exactly what the people of Swords are forced to do to get home from Dublin city centre. Whilst a big new road was built, many, many houses were too, filling the new road with chronic traffic jams, they forgot or ignored issues around basic infrastructure.

When the list of new primary care centres came out, was Reilly cyphening scant resources into his own backyard? Certainly not! This episode was too cackhanded to be a classic constituency stroke. This was a heady mix of ministerial hubris and gross incompetence. I think I know why. Hear me out:

Dublin politicians, whilst good at coming across as dodgy and well versed in blatant parish pump-ery, lack the finesse of their rural counterparts when it comes to being bona fide shucksters. Noone pulls a stroke for votes like a country politician: a swimming pool and leisure centre? *ding* - you are re-elected! Things not looking good for your voter base among rural parishes - how's about a new clubhouse for the local GAA -*ding* - proceeed to Leinster House! Dublin politicians just haven't the savvy, the street smarts to pull a fast one like that and still be loved. With the exception of He Who Shall Remain Nameless in Drumcondra, urban, particularly Dublin TD's haven't the ability for the sort of clientelism to book your return ticket to Kildare Street every five years.

Alan Shatter bored himself out of office in 2002 with Abbeylara. No-one cared about it on the mean streets of Rathfarnham. What he lacks in backyard-intuition, he makes up for in pomposity, the Kate Middleton row being exhibit A.

Eamon Ryan is a policy expert of the first order, but has the integrity of George Washington. Gone from Dublin South without so much as an Eamon Ryan Eco-Leisure Centre in the middle of Marley Park.

It takes a particlar brand of TD to moot a casino in the shape of the White House as sound economic investment and be carted out on a thousand shoulders on election night. And Reilly did nothing of the sort.

My theory, and it's just that, is mundane in comparison, but no less lethal. Having seen the original list of twenty locations made up by Roisin Shortall, Reilly and his Sir Humphrys added a few more places to put their stamp on it. Swords - and North County Dublin in general - is in dire need of basic infrastructure, as this region is: a) closer to Dundalk than Dublin and b) bursting at the seems in a timeframe that would make Tallaght's transition from country village to urban reality TV backdrop seem like a gradual inevitability. Reilly's choice of Swords, whatever about Balbriggan, was sound. Had this been naked vote grabbing, he'd brazen this out; it wasn't. He probably won’t.

Reilly’s no shuckster, but he’s other things: blind to not running roughshod over a hard working and intellectually razor sharp Minister of State, definitely. And what's more, Shortall's a woman. To go over the little woman's head must have been irresistible in the plain-as-day-FG culture of Alpha male-ism. But Shortall's tough and not for being treated like that, whatever about the absence of tangible support from her leader this evening.

In short, a man in opposition who talks the big talk needs to have the ability to back it up when he’s on the other side of the chamber. From Stubbs Gazette, to not challenging consultants, to Roscommon Hospital, to this debacle: this may be as good as it gets.

Euro crisis and some refreshing honesty.

Whilst some politicians tell tales to satisfy their own ends, former German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt gave a short but candid  address to tens of thousands of onlookers in the German city of Muenster yesterday, having been awarded the city's peace prize.

The 93 year-old grandfather of the single market didn't let the good vibes get to him. "We Germans will have to sacrifice a lot to make Europe a success." Cue enthusiastic applause. All smiles and sunshine so.

Interestingly, he's the only serious German politician to highlight the country's historic responsibility to sort out the Euro-Crisis.

Watch "Helmut Schmidt begeistert Münster" on YouTube

The IMF Recommends/Their Satanic Majesties Request

Michael Noonan has said the IMF recommendation to have a residential property tax at .5% is simply a recommendation and not an instruction to government regarding policy.

Minister Noonan also revealed that he only just found out from IMF officials that the word 'gullible' has been removed from the Oxford English Dictionary, but felt that the recommendation to look for himself was not an instruction to look, though the suggestion was admittedly a learned and eminent one, given it was from the IMF, the saviour of Greece, Argentina and Zambia, and that he would take it on board nonetheless.

In response to this news, the Labour Party has indicated that this and other cuts to education will be resisted vigorously, at least until Eamon Gilmore says otherwise, or FG backwoodsm....backbenchers get their 'all important' abortion vote.

In the meantime, the only Croke Park renegotiation will be between Galway and Kilkenny, a more civilized affair altogether. However, the attendance of so many politicians at recent GAA fixtures in an attempt to appear like normal people, means that, to paraphrase the great P.J. O'Rourke, we might get a few on to the field (we'll tell them there's an allowance down there for them or something) and maybe, juuuuust maybe, the Tribesmen and the Cats might knock some sense into the silly bastards.

Intellectual integrity ftw! - What didn't make it into Enda's speech in Cork...

E. Kenny at Beal na mBlath

Given the choice, some people think Enda Kenny would rather beat a septuagenarian football coach to the top of a hill than read the latest Diarmuid Ferriter tome. It gets worse. Some people think that details of history or other "facts" aren't his strong point. Indeed, correct referencing appears to be completely beyond him and his flunkies. To disprove this slur, I personally dived into the dumpster behind Fine Gael HQ under cover of darkness to find what I needed to set the record straight. Here's what I found.    


Bael na mBlath didn't work out for Enda. Given that most Irish politicians think an "oration" is something rude, was anyone really surprised that An Taoiseach was caught making inaccurate historical references about FG Godfather Michael Collins and his dealings with the Ruskies? The cat is firmly out of the bag, the bag has been set on fire. The huddled masses whisper in Castlebar as he walks by. He knows they know, they know he knows: he knows they think he knows very little. If only they knew...


So here, finally, the discarded list of top ten absolutely totally verifiable "facts" that anyone in FG knows is true, which were unwisely sacrificed in the final edit for that reference to Lenin, and indeed other members of the Beatles, because someone thought you had to exaggerate things to make FG seem relevant and edgy.

1. DeV was against the treaty only because Arthur Griffith beat him at Jenga at the post-negotiation wrap party in London, following an adjucation by Collins. #soreloser.  
2. God is a big farmer.
3. James Dillon invented Subbuteo.
4. Michael Noonan armwrestles Mario Draghi like a mofo at every Brussels summit. Noonoo gets concessions, Mario gets a wrist fracture. 
5. Leo Varadkar has found the instruction manual to Lucinda Creighton. 
6. Ernest Blythe MADE the Abbey Theatre.
7. The Pope came in '79 'cos Cosgrave told him to.
8. Enda's speech on clerical abuse was a bold act of leadership. 
9. Five TDs in Mayo. Nuff said.
10. Abortion is an election issue.

This finally and categorically puts to rest the foul notion that FG is full of anti-intellectual chest beaters and jocks. The officials responsible for this disaster have been dismissed and exiled in disgrace to the Irish consulate in Tahiti.

Under (Blood) Pressure

As you may have noticed, my brothers and I are involved in the excellent Irish Heart Foundation's September campaign against blood pressure. 10,000 people die each year from heart disease and stroke and your blood pressure is central to your cardiovascular health.

Among the media stuff we did, I was on The Morning Show on TV3 last Friday, chatting about blood pressure, my late father and my apparent desire to steal Martin King's job. You can watch by clicking the link above on "The Morning Show".

For more info on getting your blood pressure checked, go to http://www.irishheart.ie 
 - do it, you're worth it!

Langue et Parole

Enda Kenny and Micheal Martin 'clashed' yesterday over the issue of language skills and satisfying the needs of multinationals who have to import foreign language speakers to fill thousands of vacancies. In particular, PayPal took a few shots at the state of language graduates in the country.

(You can read the full match report: Kenny admits concerns over standards of language teaching after PayPal jobs news (via The Journal.ie) http://jrnl.ie/523895 )

The most intriguing part of the discussion is the following statement from Enda, during leader's questions:

'Kenny accused Martin of seeking to restore his own pilot programme, saying many schools were taking independent measures to teach foreign languages to their students.

The MLPSI had been “of benefit”, Kenny said, but it “does not meet the views of where we’re headed for the future” – when modern languages would be “absolutely critical for the development of the country”.'

Read what he said again and see if you can tell what he's saying. 

THE MLPSI, which cost €2m per year to run and provided language teaching in 550 primary schools, was axed in the last budget. A temporary reprieve was provided, to allow the MLPSI to see out the academic year. By the time they had axed the MLPSI, it was working with a skeleton staff of two, and yet they still provided schools with an opportunity to learn French, Spanish and German among others. They will now be out of a job, not to mention the many teachers who were in their employment to provide the classes. 

These languages provide us with the tools to conduct trade and cultural dialogue properly with other countries. Take German as an example: We export billions of Dollars worth of goods to Germany, a land which remains completely untapped to us, primarily because of a lack of language and cultural skills. Our exports admittedly nearly  halved  between 2008 and 2010 for obvious reasons, but business is still there to be done. 

All languages suffer. Access to the Spanish speaking world remains largely untapped, bar ordering a cup of Barry's tea in Fuerteventura. Russian, Portuguese, not to mention Polish and Hindi, are only learned by the tiniest minority. High-tech, agri-tech, pharmaceuticals, engineering, we have it all in spades, but we could have more, but for the pathetic language skills possessed by our workforce. 

Part of the problem, indeed the whole problem, rests on attitude. A true story: A friend of mine, who moved to Germany last year, told me he was attending the language classes provided by his employer. The sessions consisted largely of Irish lads asking how to say 'sure it's grand' in the case they had an unfortunate misunderstanding in a bar when they're having 'the craic'.  

Rather than unlock whole cultures, rather than see the career opportunities such learning might provide - my friend definitely works in the high end of high tech industry - is our attitude that we have the lowest possible expectation of ourselves? If so, where does this come from? There are many suspects, but this is a widespread conspiracy: From parents and students, one group happy they learn anything at all, the other often resistant to applying themselves (a way too complex issue to dismiss with 'laziness'), to educators and the mandarins running the system, the former either overburdened or under-resourced (including developing their teaching and language skills), the latter more interested in resolving issues in Maths and Science, due to the fact that low achievement isn't confined to the language classroom - it's endemic among our young. The tragedy is that apart from the economic benefits of learning a language, we risk a cultural atrophy, we risk ignorance of fascinating, beautiful, tragic civilizations who languages are the vehicles of Cervantes, Voltaire, Kant, Tolstoi, Adam Mickiewicz and Valmiki among others.    

When Kenny dismisses the MLPSI on partisan grounds, when his Sub-Sir Humphryspeak mangles the English language to the tiniest particles of meaningless sounds, what possible hope can we have for leadership in terms of language policy in Ireland? What possible hope is there for retaining the multinationals enticed here by the alleged high quality of our education system, who were, either by design or delusion, brought here ultimately under false pretenses,    

COMPARE THE MERKEL.COM

The Euro crisis, like Ming Flanagan, is an embarrassing debacle that refuses to go away. In the midst of it all, Europe's only heavy hitter, Angela Merkel, has been hit heavily. After nearly half a decade of telling everyone to do crazy things like save their money and stop being lazy, she's caving in. In Berlin, the knives are being sharpened, and she's currently residing comfortably under her desk. Now 170 leading German economists have attacked her in an open letter, and one of her fiercest critics, former chancellor Helmut Schmidt, has with no little gravitas damned the beleaguered 'Madame Non' with faint praise.

Merkel: all smiles and sunshine

2012 Merkel's is her annus horribilis. Her party, the CDU, have been shown the door in every regional election held this year. Her coalition partners, the FDP, are mid implosion, and yet their leader, a man who would rather be in Afghanistan wearing a 'Jihadists for Jesus' T-Shirt than be a politician, managed to bully her into submission over misfired veto of Joachim Gauck's succeeding her handpicked Federal President, the scandal prone Christian Wulff.


Although personally popular up to now, Merkel's tough stance on the sovereign debt issues of the club med countries has cost her dearly. Moreover, it has cost her people too: the level of hostility shown towards ordinary Germans underlines the point that in barely half a decade, Germany's postwar reputation has been put to the sword, as Merkel's characteristic caution has been defined successfully in the discourse as malevolent inaction.

The home front isn't much rosier. Discontent has grown over the absence of a resolution to the crisis. Merkel's lack of substantial consultation with the Bundestag has led to challenges of the EFSF bailout mechanism at the German constitutional court, whose judges have come under increased pressure to react to political events. Enter Helmut Schmidt, former chancellor and grand seigneur of German politics. His interventions have gone largely unreported in Britain and Ireland, despite the fact he has effectively defined the case against Merkel's stance in Europe. At 93, Schmidt's political activity remains far greater than either of his other successors, Helmut Kohl or Gerhard Schroeder, and his influence on political debate accordingly remains undiminished.

Helmut Schmidt: Germany's last great smoker

He is also capable of surprises. He spoke in support of Merkel at an event in Berlin on Tuesday last, acknowledging the great challenges of being chancellor at this time. Daily broadsheet Die Welt reported Schmidt's speech as a backhanded statement of support, applauding her defeats at the G8 and G20 meetings as great tactical victories. Schmidt recently said Merkel is good at political tactics, but to what purpose was anyone's guess. Who said the Germans don't do humour?

Undermining Merkel's approach of narrowly defending Germany's interests, Schmidt has also called for a radical subordination of German concerns to the greater European good. (In December last he even reminded the SPD party conference that those who forget the historic reasons for anchoring Germany in a European Community are in danger of forgetting Germany's historic responsibility to the project.) He has also recently co-authored/co-sponsored a blueprint for a way out of the crisis with Jacques Delors, attempting to offer a pragmatic paradigm for the Eurozone in the future. 

Tomake things worse, Suedeutsche Zeitung reports that 170 leading economists have written an open letter to Merkel on her handling of the crisis. She has responded by questioning their competence. She can afford to do little more for now: her popularity is at its highest for three years. Unfortunately, anyone who knows the fate of our own dear Bertie Ahern will know that popularity won't save your bacon forever.


For all her personal popularity, Merkel is becoming politically isolated, domestically (fatal) as well as internationally (chronic). It's easy to be popular when your firm with the Greeks, whose political class has been the apotheosis of the dilettantism of modern European life, a sordid disgrace in this whole Euro fiasco. Unfortunately for Merkel, she isn't a typical CDU leader, and they'll soon want one of their own. 

Cardinal Sin

I'm not an admirer of Cardinal Sean Brady. I'm not a hater of him either. He no has doubt some positive qualities. He is clearly an educated man, with a Doctorate in Canon Law. He is a man of deep faith: but he's in deep trouble. And he did not get to the top in the Irish hierarchy, merely because he looks good in scarlet. So how come he's managed to make a monkey of being the Primate? The reasons are as clear as they are complex.

Cardinal Brady

Sean Brady was involved in an 'investigation' of abuse allegations against Fr. Brendan Smyth so half-assed, so insulting to Smyth's victims, that nearly four decades on, it's still a potent source of anger toward the clergy. The scandal as it erupted in the early 1990's defined the rupture between the church and its congregation. Whereas Eamon Casey had been a scandal which exposed an almost comical duplicity and hypocrisy within the hierarchy, the handling of Smyth exposed the chilling manner in which the church chose to abuse it faithful: be it their trust, their obedience or their children, the Catholic Church ran roughshod over not only those who questioned them and those who would follow them.

It's strange to think that in the twenty years since Smyth infamously eyeballed photographers as he was led away by prison guards, that the almost cartoonish and grotesque villainy of Smyth was not enough for the Church to want to clean house and open up. The reaction at the time was enormous. The amusement around Eamon Casey soon became horror with the emergence of Smyth. All the while, the church did as it does. Nothing.

The social upheaval of the early 1990's brought about astonishingly little real change. The majority still go to mass, as is their right, and with which I have no quibble. Priests are still reasonably respected figures in their communities. The churches are still the dominant interested parties in Irish education, causing everything in schools to revolve around either religion or sex. And despite Ruari Quinn's desire to change, how much really will for a new social ideology other than the ideology of making do with dwindling resources. There are compelling reasons why real change is a long way off.

As a child growing up, I was quite unaware of the Church's waning power, because I was not bought up in that tradition of 'deference' to the hierarchy that appears to be the cause of the then Father Brady's subordinating of his common morality to his duties as an officer of the Church. I'll return to this again, but what I'd mention first is a personal memory: I remember that my father, then being Father Trendy on the television, was not to everyone's liking. His act was 'blasphemy' to some. I think we even received some hate mail. Not, however, from the clergy, but from lay people. The clergy saved their ammunition when it came to Dermot Morgan for later when he died. At the time he was on the Live Mike, he pulled up the blinds to let new, uncomfortable light shine on Ireland. Most of all, however, he liberated his family from the mental connection between subservience to the Churchmen and well practiced Catholicism.

This was the exception however and not the rule. The Irish happily revel in shouting about their rebellion: they won't pay the household charge (even when they aren't liable to), or fork out €50 for their septic tank (even when they don't have one). We claim to harbour a sneaking regard for those who play fast and loose with the law for their own gain. We are an beneath it all, a servile people. The protests over the IMF/EU bailout are not mass uprisings. An officer of the law will still get a timid 'yes, Guard' when stopping a wayward driver. When the taxman cometh, most cough up. So it was with the British, and so it was with the Catholic Church.

We are recidivist Conservatives, allowing pregnant schoolgirls to be refused an education until we remember which century we're supposed to be living in. When the ugliness of our everyday cowardice is exposed, the perpetrator is protected to save ourselves from our own complicity. Child abuse, the dirtiest of all Ireland's little secrets, therefore remained unreported, the abusers unchallenged. The victims were afflicted with stigma, the families were fearful of shame. The desire for certainty, which the church offered after independence, was seized upon by the faithful and exploited by their supposed moral guardians.

So what of Sean Brady? Resignation is the least of his worries. Morally he's incapable of coming up with the goods. He can't apologise without making it about his anguish. Society doesn't care about that. It's not about co-opting victimhood to make you feel better. When you've wronged someone, the hardest thing to say is sorry and mean it for purely unselfish reasons. For a man of such ability as he must be, he appears imbued with such an ego, albeit an institutionally defined ego, that means he could attempt to avoid taking responsibility for his actions and those of the Church. That manner of apology, and the real atonement that would inevitably follow, is too much for him and the hierarchy, with a few notable exceptions. When that happens, Irish society as a whole can start the real process of self examination about child abuse that we have never had to guts to engage with: to liberate ourselves from the timidity and the Juju of our ancestors and to define our relationship with God in a real and heartfelt way.


 

Compacted

I've a hard time pigeonholing Gerry Adams. Is he a man of destiny, who brought the extremists in from the cold? Is he a wily tactician, guiding Sinn Fein to reclaim the Republican mainstream in the south? Or is he the man best qualified to demonstrate what a cat's bum looks like by puckering his lips and holding his arm over his head? One thing's for certain, in the realm of details, he has as good a grip on them as Enda Kenny. And that doesn't bode well for anyone.

Nothing in the world of politics makes my heart leap with joy as much as a politician debating with the facts, or some convincing notion thereof. Even if it's tenuous from one end to the other. If it's watertight, if it possesses elegant logic, wrapped up in a bow of oratory ribbons, then stick me in the front row with popcorn and a copy of Thomas Paine's Common Sense. One thing is clear, though. There is not a single politician of note in the mainstream who has the savant-like grasp of data to win an argument, the skill to apply cool analysis and clear, concise language to discuss the topics of the day. There isn't even a decent rabble-rouser who can read his staffer's cheat notes these days. There is, not to put too fine a point on it, a distinct lack of politicians who can explain what the hell is going on. Not least, in the realm of Europe, not least the Fiscal Treaty.

To some, the Fiscal Compact sounds like an obscure brand of makeup. Some may even think it is. Very few might be able to explain what is in this short treaty, and even fewer will vote on its merits. As short as it is, 24 pages, as straightforward as it might be, we'll never know, cos we won't read it. To our detriment, we won't get a politician hard working enough or articulate enough to earn their wage and make a decent case for or against it. Enter big Gerry from Belf...I mean Louth.

Adams had to come clean when accused by FG's Paschal Donoghue of misrepresenting the views of leading Irish economists: Quotes were taken out of context, characterizing them as arguing against the Treaty on Stability, Coordination and Governance. They were all, in fact, of the view that this treaty was the only show in town as far as ending the Eurocrisis was concerned. Cue Adams explaining that yes, it was arse, but, but, but. Cue also the sound of someone from his office opening up the Evening Herald Jobs Section.

This scene made Adams, whose place in history is assured, look like a rank amateur, and that maybe one day he wouldn't have his biography discussed by Mary Wilson some weekday evening. If Sinn Fein is to be a viable alternative to the current government, if it is to eclipse the carrion rump of FF, then it needs to know more, say more, make more sense and generally not come across like a bunch of gobshites who came down with the last shower. As Richard Boyd Barrett learned this week, when even Enda Kenny can score cheap debating points off you, that's not a good sign.

Richard Boyd Barrett in heated debate with Kenny (right)

In the head-to-head between the Adams and Kenny, the best beard and the best barnet in the Dail, Kenny was putting it up to Adams to defend his claim that the treaty would drive the destiny of the Irish electorate into the hands of unelected officials in Brussels or elsewhere. Adams' claim is obviously hokum. That EU train left the station some time ago. Moreover the treaty, a rerun of the stability pact supposedly agreed prior to the Euro's introduction, requires more than just a vacant soundbite. Similarly, Kenny's assertion that our little vote has nothing to do with anyone else in the whole wide world is also nonsense: Yes, it is interrelated with the Dutch elections, the German regional elections, the future of Merkozy (as long as THAT lasts) and more importantly, with the future of the country, which at any rate has been index-linked to continental Europe since 1973.

The vote is on the 31st of May. So far, a convincing argument for or against the treaty has been absent from the discourse. Since we can't even trust our politicians to tell us what to do, we may actually have to get up of our lazy, apathetic backsides and read the thing ourselves.

If you want to, you can read it here. Or print it out and Pritt-Stick it to your TD's head.

Fornication: First Offence.

I have to be perfectly honest. I love the whole renaissance for the 1980's and 90's. Wham Bars are back in the shops and I get to wear skinny yellow jeans without much risk of a beating. I even woke up this morning with Spandau Ballet stuck in my head.

What I don't love, in fact, what I hate, is the refrying of the X-Case judgement. In particular Michelle Mulherin's contribution to parliamentary democracy last week, when she managed, either by design or disaster, to make the X-Case an issue of sex and morality in society. Clearly the X-Case has about as much to do with sex and morality in society as sock puppets have to do with drive-by shootings. When saying something, we must remember to to be clear. A government, Helmut Schmidt once said, cannot be built on ambiguities. And definitely not, one might add, on plain confusion. Hats off to the Dail Technical Group, who showed the cojones no government since the early 90s has been able to show in attempting to enact legislation based on a Supreme Court judgement - Government by the book according to due process as set out in the constitution.

In making this bold step, however, they have opened the door to opponents of abortion in any circumstances to reopening the debate on the X-Case. Whilst they have the mic, they'll attempt to set the reset button on society's mores using this most inappropriate of contexts, namely legislation that emanates from a rape case.

Mulherin did exactly this, whether she likes it or not. In her use of the term 'fornication' to describe sex outside of marriage, she made a judgement call on those whose behaviour differs from hers. To say, 'Hey guys, there's a real problem with the way society has not recognized the repercussions of letting people do what they like without considering the consequences', is one thing, but she didn't do that. And this wasn't the place to do what she did.

The X-Case has been characterized by its opponents as legislation proposed to let people get off the hook for being in difficulty. Unfortunately for her, this goes against what she has said about the X-Case: that is, that she's accepts the judgement.


To prove a point, here, with thanks to broadsheet.ie, below is a key excerpt from Mulherin's interview with Brendan O'Connor last night on RTE TV, just to prove the point.

Mulherin: “I accept the X case in the sense that it decided that in a situation where the mother’s life was at risk then in that limited circumstance there could be a termination.

O’Connor: “And only in that limited circumstance?”

Mulherin: “Yes.”

Nothing too nutty there. Mulherin's point about our society was indeed valid: did we allow for freedom of choice to exist without the ability to consider the consequences? Do people have an adequate sense of personal responsibility in their actions, particularly in the most intimate context possible for a person? Are the Irish now a little too flaithulach for a fling and damn the consequences? The problem is, that this wasn't what she did. She dug out her old vinyl collection and played Des Hanafin's Greatest Hits at full blast instead. Now the neighbours are complaining and we all have to go to work tomorrow.

I don't mind people using religion to consider moral questions (I do, sometimes). I don't mind people being against abortion (nobody wins from it). What I object to is discourse which is ill conceived, ill expressed and ill defined; which is emotive, emotional and conducted with murky motives. Mulherin couldn't recognize the seriousness of the debate she was participating in and chose instead to use a word (fornication) which any fool can tell you has a negative connotation, to make her own point. She is a law graduate and is extremely articulate. You can't tell me she didn't realize that when choosing her words in the Dail last week, that she would cause a ruckus. Instead of raising an important issue in its own context, she made a judgement, in my view mischievously and without full respect for the debate that was at hand. And she made it when it was neither warranted nor appropriate.   

It's now 20 years since the X-Case. We have not progressed one bit since then, nor have we improved the standard of debate on this or any other issue. Intelligent, mature debate on serious questions, on issues which are immediately pressing, seems as far off from being realized as the X-Case judgement will be passed into law. Instead we have been treated to this tawdry sideshow. Thanks, Shelly!

No Job for a Lady

Watching Enda Kenny's speech at the Fine Gael Ard Fheis last weekend, mercifully less sub Kenneth Williams than usual, one thing struck me. Look around him. Right next to him, the dissidents, Simon Coveny, a knackered Richard Bruton and Lucinda Creighton. More striking still, of the twenty odd people sitting around him, bar five people, they were all men. In the words of Police Academy - "Johnsons, Lassard, as far as the eye can see." There's not a large representation of women in the Dail, 25 in all, 15% of the population of the Lower House. (See http://www.nwci.ie/blog/) The question is, why?

Penelope Keith plays an MP in 'No Job For A Lady'. 
Now get back in that kitchen and make us a rasher sangidge!

It seems odd, given that women are among the brightest minds in the Dail - Lucinda Creighton, brooding in the front row left of Enda, has been appallingly overlooked over the years. Rosin Shortall flexed her intellectual muscles in committees in the last Dail. In the past we had Liz O'Donnell, Olwyn Enright, Gemma Hussey, even, Mary O'Rourke and Mary Hanafin displayed considerable intellectual rigour in their time. Joan Burton was the Opposition Finance voice in the last Dail, when FG couldn't even decide who was leading the party.

In the shakedown following the last election, women remain underrepresented in Enda's government. But why?

Is it because:

• He's the fairest one of all?
• They're all taller than him?
• He has shoe envy?
• He doesn't want people with a better hair than him at the cabinet table?

I reckon this under-representation is because of a deeply ingrained institutional sexism, compounded by an deeper ingrained hostility in Irish politics towards education and cultivation. In our political class, does intellectualism hold the currency it does in the rest of Europe? Absolutely not. And it is the habitus of Leinster House, an unthinking 'it's always been this way' mindset.

Easy personal advancement in Irish politics is predicated on two things: expedience and (institutional) experience, and both genders have been complicit in this evolution. Being articulate, being well educated and intellectual is bad enough, but being female as well? No way.

So Joan Burton, loses out to Noonan and Howlin, so Creighton has to follow some truly uninspiring men around Brussels despite knowing her brief and knowing Europe better than anyone in the current government, with the exception of Noonan.

But this isn't just about women. Think of all the clever men who have lost out over the years because of this attitude towards intellect: Noel Brown, Justin Keating, James Dillon, David Andrews (Ray Burke's understudy!), Brian Lenihan Jr., who only belatedly got the nod from Bertie, and Martin Mansergh. All either didn't make it, or made it too late, and only when all other options were exhausted. Many more have avoided politics altogether and worked in the private sector.

It was Dr. Garret Fitzgerald who wrote in the journal Studies in 1964 about Ireland's prevailing hostility towards intellectualism. Each woman and man mentioned above is an intellectual on some level. The choice for them is a short lived career, the middle rung of junior ministerships, slumming it with with the backwoodsmen of this world, or rot in the Seanad making excellent speeches no one will hear, as Mary Robinson and Ivana Bacik have had to endure. Robinson broke free, and sure, look what happened. We had two former law professors in a row as President, making a mockery by stringing words together into 'ideas' and 'cogent thoughts'. Imagine if they'd had real power. But they wouldn't. Not unless a senior jock gets busted and Coach looks to the subs bench for a nerd to make up the numbers.

Thank God politics isn't the private sector, because as Bill Gates pointed out, a nerd will probably end up being your boss. For those brought up in the culture of Irish politics, if you're really unlucky, your boss might even be a woman. Here's the highlights of Enda's Ard Feis Speech, thanks to The Irish Examiner. Johnsons, Lassard...


 

22 Things we could do with the money raised from Big Phil's Household Charge.

The Real Big Phil last night at a Press Conference in Kilkinny.

1. Build a generator large enough to harness Ireland's greatest untapped energy source: Cork's self satisfaction.
2. Invest in researching the gene for underachievement in Irish sports teams.
3. Put a ring of steel around Courtown in June.
4. Pay for a search party to find Bertie Ahern's receipts.
5. Dig a hole big enough for Bertie to crawl into. (See above. Keep the topsoil ready,  lads...)
6. Buy enough kebab meat to skewer on the Spire and sell to unsuspecting tourists.
7. Straighten Enda's mouth when in 'sincere mode' 
8. Pay off Joe Higgins
9. Plug in a giant speaker to play 'Bring me Sunshine' on Eyre Square every other day.
10. Finish Croke Park. Seriously.
11. Roller skates for Michael D.  
12. Send Jedward abroad. Just until the coast is clear.
13. Zogabongs (What Zig and Zag had on their heads).
14. Tie a yellow ribbon around every millennium tree planted in sympathy with 'da pooer plane paypel of  Ireland'.
15. Get Benji Riordan to wrap his tractor round at least one (with thanks to Brendan Grace).
16. Find a use for Leitrim, beside Section 23, cos that worked.
17. Have Teddy's Ice Cream open 24 Hours.
18. Remove all the fencing along the Cliffs of Moher.
19. Provide people with the skills to do the Irish Times Cryptic Crossword. It's not right to think you're clever cos you can finish the Simplex, and aul wans are racing away with the weird looking puzzle to the left. It's Ireland's real dirty little secret.
20. Canonize Daniel O'Donnell.
21. Get loadsa to ducks to nest on Leinster Lawn during the Dail Term.
22. Finally get the Angelus bells to overlap properly with Metallica.

Couldn't have happened to a nicer person. Really.

Check out Martyin Turner's cartoon of the unctious Pee Flynn. If only you could get it printed on loo roll. I couldn't find it online, but jeez, this pic gives you a good idea:

Yours to cut out and keep. On the mantelpiece to keep the little 'uns away from the fireplace. urrgh *shudders*....


If nothing else, the Mahon Report will cause those, whose fattening snouts were stuck in the national trough of dodgy dealing and parish pump hustling (see above) to get their oily, curly tails yanked for good measure in print, albeit belatedly, to the disgrace of our society. 


The other thing which is fun to observe is the Irish Times or Sam Smyth or Fintan O'Toole  jump up and down about the fact that, like the smart kid in class who knows the answer to an awkward but obvious question. They were right all along. But how good is it to be right about the fact that in Ireland, we have a sneaking regard for two bit chancers and local hoodlums parading as 24 carat statesmen and figures of reverence? To know that really we can't help our basest desires for money and low brow influence and not be listened to is really a damning indictment of our collective standards for ourselves.  


One question remains unanswered is: will anyone actually swing for this? Probably not. So we may pillory while the Mahon sun shines. Let the games begin. 

The Mother of All Women

Mammy relaxing in her luxurious pad...

Here's the link for my feature article published in the Irish Examiner yesterday, March 14th, 2012. Really chuffed with it. As someone said,  "let's see what a guy with a German mother has to say about his experience of Irish mammies." Love it.

the link is here: The Mother of All Women

Note: Thanks to those who helped - interviewees, friends and everyone else. More to come! (that's enough fawning, get back to work!-ed.)

Guten Morgan!: Mrs. Thatch!

Guten Morgan!: Mrs. Thatch!

Mrs. Thatch!

Press coverage around 'The Iron Lady' has shrieked of a conspiracy, a right wing glossing over of Mrs. Thatcher's dark side. The film's makers have even been accused of, duh, duh, DUHHHH, humanizing Britain's only female PM. The truth is, it does, and that's no bad thing.

If you don't like 'The Iron Lady', that's fine. It's not your cup of tea. You may carp about its lack of historical detail, or even accuracy. You might wish, it focused on the miners' strike rather than on Thatcher in the advanced stages of dementia, talking with her dead husband Denis.

Most of the objections to this film are simplistic and ideologically based. They think she was an evil negative force in the world and want their viewpoint to be given celluloid validation. They're not looking at the actual film,which although superficially about a major political figure is actually about the transitory nature of fame and power.

A case in point, the controversial scene where Thatcher goes to buy milk a the beginning of the film. Scurrying back to with her shopping, bemused and confused, what's clear is that Thatcher, like many of the elderly, is invisible to the rest of us. Her battles, her passions and her considerable fame, such as it was, are irrelevant to the majority of the population alive today. Even her son Mark lives abroad and has no intention of coming to visit 'Another time perhaps', she suggests when he calls. As with many elderly parents hoping to see their children, even the longest serving British PM of the 20th century lacks definitive powers of persuasion with her absent son.

Britain's current leader, whom Thatcher, played by Oscar-bound Meryl Streep, calls 'quite a smoothy', will go the same way.

The last vestiges of her former glory surround her: the official portrait on her kitchen wall, the secretary half-heartedly leafing through her Filofax for appointments, these are physical manifestations of the obscurity all people are destined for.

Some bits of the film are inspired, others not so. Her early years are brilliantly captured, and it wasn't all good. However, portraying Thatcher as instrumental in ending the Cold War (she was famously opposed to German reunification, the final political act of the Cold War) is just wrong. It also skirts over her internal conflicts with the Heathites in her party, which could have truncated her leadership had it not been for the Falklands War.

Some viewers also mightn't get all the historical minutiae, and that's a shame. Dealing with it would make a great film, or a long one depending on how good it's rendered, but that's another film, not currently showing in Omniplexes around the world.

If the film's director, writer and stars all argue that the film is apolitical, it's not to hide an unpalatable political narrative, it's just the film isn't particularly political. Thatcher's family and friends have also been frosty about the film, so it's hardly the hagiography it might be construed as being. Furthermore, the charge of humanizing Thatcher, the same charge leveled at the makers of 'Downfall' about Bruno Ganz's depiction of Hitler, is an outrageous distortion of Thatcher's term in Downing Street. She may have been, in the words of Ben Elton, a 'nasty old witch', but she was a democratically elected 'nasty old witch', who respected and understood the cut and thrust of democratic politics, and thrived on it. And was shown the door by it.

Incidentally, for an accurate account of Thatcher's years in power, google BBC's documentary, 'Thatcher: The Downing Street Years'. For an entertaining, semi-fictitious drama about a significant historical figure, watch The Iron Lady.