Áras contest deserves some heavier hitters than current muster of mediocre peacocks
THERE are a lot of voters out there who were either simply disappointed with the result of the recent Eighth Amendment referendum or saddened and angered by it.
In all, about a third of the electorate.
I voted for repeal and actually canvassed against the Eighth’s inclusion in our Constitution way back in the black and white 1980s.
But I felt a certain unease at some of the triumphalism of the more hardcore victors in May and the way they dismissed traditionalists who campaigned, or simply voted, to retain the ban on abortion.
I like this new more inclusive, pluralist Ireland
I’m going to grow old in.
But I don’t like some of the sneery ‘liberal’ elite who want to make it a cold place for those who differ.
But you ignore and trample on these near halfmillion voters at your peril.
At the moment, there is no political party or block that represents them and no credible political heavyweight who stands up for their values.
That might change and, for the good of our democracy, it needs to.
Few straws in the wind so far, though this presidential campaign could be the perfect soap box for someone with the guts and ability to put a dent in those self-regarding smug metropolitans who think liberalism means shutting down your opponents.
None of those who has put up their hands to join the race for the Áras is capable or interested in starting that debate or would even know where to start.
All seem to me to be mediocrities paddling in a pond just about deep enough for them to admire their own reflection. One straw in the wind over the weekend caught my fancy, though.
A petition up on Change.org tried to rouse interest in the candidacy of Maria Steen, the pro-life campaigner who, more out of accident than design, became the face of the No campaign and proved to be a born communicator.
She might not be up to it, or even be vaguely interested. In fact, common sense would suggest she’d run a mile and then jog another just to be safe. Even if she were, the obstacles to gaining a nomination are formidable.
But more than 400,000 people believe, broadly at least, in her vision of Ireland.
I wouldn’t vote for her and she couldn’t win.
But if we have to have a contest, let it be about the things that define us rather than leave it to ideologically lite peacocks.
Jolly hockey sticks
AT first I thought we had imagined it.
But no, our ears had not deceived us.
Strolling past the Pádraig Pearse pub, on Dublin’s Pearse Street, at half three or so on Saturday afternoon, we heard a roar rolling out from the front door.
Not an ear-splitting roar but still delivered with a certain gusto and relish.
This was just as Ireland’s hockey heroes were playing out a tense penalty shoot-out with Spain in the World Cup semi-final in London.
Jolly hockey sticks? Pádraig Pearse? I didn’t see that one coming.
But then again that’s sport for you. Always with the feel-good surprises.
I need the cure for Cliff Richard
THERE’S a swirling noise in my head and it won’t go away. A promotional ad trying to sell me tickets for Cliff Richards’s 60th anniversary tour (no chance) has been coming out of my radio for weeks now.
One of his old hits that whizzes by is ‘Miss You Nights’ which went in one of my ears but refuses to go out the other.
Since then I’ve been stuck with it. This insipid love ballad has taken up squatting rights somewhere in the back of my head.
So, today I plan to finally flush it out.
Loads of Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, and – if that doesn’t do the trick – I have ‘Everlong’ by the Foo Fighters ready to go. Very loud.
Nice of you to visit Cliff, but close the door on your way out. Sound man.