Political Perversions
I have avoided posting on Irish politics these last 18 months, as it has been far too depressing a topic to face. During that hiatus many, many, grossly unpalatable and disgusting behaviours have been proudly exhibited by the shower of clueless, lumpen, fuckstibles on Kildare street and foisted upon the unfortunate public as evidence of their fitness for office. Each time some ill fated policy, wrong-headed statement or excoriating report arrives, they tramp some hapless gobshite out to proudly flap their lips about and vent gouts of hot bullshit into the newscycle.
This government is about as popular as weeping arse boils right now, and clearly I am loathe to say this, but if the stupid fuckwits who stumble into the voting booths in their masses insist on re-electing these useless walking turds back into office every time we have an election, then they have nobody to blame but themselves. Not that the other pack of vacuous suits and assorted collection of muntys making up the opposition would fair any better. Fine Gael has as little to offer the country as the other crowd, the only difference being they lack the expectation of power that gifts Fianna Fail with such a repulsive collection of greed maddened creeps and weirdos, and an organisation entirely permeated by a warped culture of corruption and venality. These last eighteen months have entirely removed all vestiges of respect or belief I harboured for the political process. I will never, ever, give my vote to another one of these wretched creatures again and that includes The Greens who helped these criminally stupid goons back into power and have kept them there with the smug blanket excuse of “We’re only here for certain reasons.” Craven fools, they’ll be crying themselves to sleep in June after they are destroyed in the local elections. Why does political power makes us lose the run of ourselves altogether?
At least we lost Bertie, hoisted at last, on his own petard and the vicious sucking chest wounds of the lies he spun the Mahon Tribunal. Cowen, his utterly charisma free and massively blubber cheeked replacement has done nothing, but gobble uselessly like a fat turkey since the day he ascended to power, bringing with him a fresh tide of entirely talent free dullards into high office to piss away any hope of averting the dire spectre of depression forming like an ominous stormcloud of shite over the economy.
The global recession has sucker punched us so hard in this country we are shitting out our own livers and babbling away about how it will all start to look rosy again in a couple of years if we can just shave 2 billion or so off the public spending bill. We are dangerously adrift and heading out to sea. Metaphor after metaphor are piling up in the national press like so many abandoned cars on the M50. We are fucked into a cocked hat and no mistake. Soon even the metaphors will run out and the poor journos will be reduced to screaming “THE SKY IS FALLING, THE SKY IS FALLING!” and bashing in their brains with hammers. With the two main banks down to €0.35 a share from €17.00 a year ago and property developers thrashing about like crazed mink trying to sue the banks for giving them the money in the first place, the government blaming the economists for “talking down the economy,” the Southerners blaming the Northerners for selling their crap cheaper than our crap, and the BBC telling the Minister for Finance the difference between Ireland and Iceland was “one letter and six months,” it is, without a doubt, a great time for begrudgery.