DÁIL SKETCH:While Brendan Gleeson was defending the value of the arts, our TDs were the theatrical ones
NOW THAT The Bull is slain, the piqued politicians of Leinster House have turned their attention to the messenger.
It’s a cross-party bloodlust, born of resentment fuelled by a deep persecution complex and an injured sense of innocence.
As the dust settled after the drama of John O’Donoghue’s departure, quite a number of deputies were feeling rather bruised by the whole affair.
There was more than a bit of importuning of journalists in corridors, demanding to know how their precious reputations would stand up to scrutiny if their expenses were put under the microscope.
(Would that, TDs were asked, be their vouched expenses – no receipts, no reimbursements? Many assumed a haunted air.)
“The Freedom of Information requests have me driven mad, looking for details of every art and fart I ever spent. You’d think we were criminals,” complained one very exercised deputy, spitting crumbs over tea in the canteen.
“It’s not worth it any more to be in public life. You never hear about the money we pay out of our own pockets to help constituents and for local charities. We’ve also taken a hit in our wages. It’s not fair.”
A Labour politician wailed that he’s thinking of jacking in the job at the next election – and about 20 of his colleagues from all sides have told him they’re considering calling it a day as well.
Such was his agitated state, his dining companion thought it wiser not to remark that if this happened, the queue of fellow party members battling for the jobs with their tongues hanging out would stretch from Kildare Street to Ballybunion.
And as for RTÉ. Don’t get them started on RTÉ. All day, the poor hacks from the newsroom (no receipts, no reimbursement) were beaten around the ears with Pat Kenny and Gerry Ryan, Ryan Tubridy and Marian Finucane.
“What are ya doin’ about their salaries, huh? You wouldn’t be happy if I asked to see your expenses.” A normally calm and level-headed Fine Gael frontbencher assailed another unfortunate reporter with accusations of “mob journalism” and bellowed that the public uproar over TDs’ expenses had been deliberately whipped up and kept going by the media.
“And you work here out of offices provided free by the State. You don’t hear anything about that now, do you?” The ungrateful wretch decided not to argue that newspapers provide a public service by covering proceedings in the Dáil. He later explained he thought the deputy “too emotional and unstable”. Certain Fianna Fáil backbenchers muttered about journalists “getting too big for their boots”, while lauding John O’Donoghue for the quality of his valedictory speech, despite the pain he must have been enduring.
In the chamber, Fine Gael’s Leo Varadkar ditched his obsession with journalists’ expenses to return to a favourite theme: freeloading members of the fourth estate who enjoyed trips abroad with Fás, and how, thus compromised, they steered clear of writing critical articles about the State training agency.
In Leo’s fertile imagination, jumbo jets filled with champagne-swilling journalists regularly criss-crossed the globe with Fás officials. Even if this were the case, Varadkar is clearly unaware of the breed’s boundless capacity for ingratitude.
To be fair, not all deputies were annoyed by the intense spotlight on their expenses and the related manner of the Bull’s departure. At least not in public.
Nothing for it, they sighed, but to bring in a system of vouched expenses. Should have been done years ago, they fibbed. “Not that it’ll make any difference, only add on more paperwork to already overworked civil servants.”
Thank heavens for our marvellous troupers from the world of showbiz. The dahlings appeared before the Oireachtas Committee for Committees with the Longest Names to discuss “funding of the arts in the present economic recession”. Witnesses included actor Brendan Gleeson and authors Colum McCann and Sebastian Barry. A large media contingent came – celebrity is always a great draw.
Committee chairman Tom Kitt was delighted with the turnout. (Tom, of course, sings and plays the guitar. Like Michael Woods, he warbles at the drop of a hat.) Gleeson turned in a marvellous performance when underlining the importance of the movie industry to the exchequer. He cited the film In Bruges, in which he starred with Colin Farrell.
“Tourism to Bruges, which is already a tourist town, has increased by 30 per cent . . . that’s after Colin’s character in the film called the place a s*** hole.”
On Braveheart, shot in Ireland, he had this to say: “I can still see the FCA lads enthusiastically flashing en masse on a grassy knoll on the plains of Kildare . . . It was not a pretty sight on a very pretty site.”
