And water. That abundant, if somewhat soiled substance, necessary for keeping humans alive and to a certain, personal, hygienic standard. Plants and animals like it too. Half the nation seems drawn to seep under it should it fall freely from the heavens at certain times of the year.
Yep, that pesky water sure caused a disturbance.
The protestations from across the class-divide, nationwide, met with derision from Michael 'Phantom deal' Noonan, Alan 'Power is a drug' Kelly and nearly everyone else across the established lines that cross between various orders vying for thought each day of the week in Ireland, now that the church no longer holds much sway with a more clued in population. Paddywackery may work for the tourists, but Paddy, it seems, is sick of the wackery. At least the political wackery of the past four decades.
|Alan Kelly's Ministerial career|
Fianna Fail promised a longer term abolition of charges and of its spectacularly named super-quango, Irish Water. They hardly peeled back the skin of the banana. If Kenny can bribe a few Indies now, Martin will support him as taoiseach and watch his demise from the sidelines, biding his time. He may regret that. If history is a governing concept of the future, there's enough to go by now to know that there are a few in the halls of the Dail that are there for the short-term biding. Few schools, few roads. The usual. Not much changes - except the popularity of the self-appointed wise. It's on a downward spiral that looks good on any graph. It can only be a good thing.
Water's for another day. Be a brave day to bring it back out. V is for victory. Expect it to be short-lived as they connive some other way to saddle most further.
I used to think Larry was mad when he mentioned a Tory-style poll tax here for Ireland back in the day. Now I'm not so sure. Just one of the ideas Larry had on taxation. A 'beer-bottle' tax and a tooth-tax being another two he wrote notes on. I may have a lead on them, but that's another day.
I mentioned my bedraggle-ment - vomiting bug. Seven long days. That's a lot of retching. Leave you sore. Old.
Still, got a banana down me today. It's still in there. I can also see me hip bones again. Even your one with the big arse and i-Phone can't claim that. Could brighter days be ahead?
"Ask me bolleeks!,' as Leon used to say.