You don’t need to be Einstein! Enda, go in November, I said. But would he take heed?

WHEN two giant Black Holes collide, it causes a ripple in much the same way that waves are generated when you throw a stone into a pond. As the stone hits the water, you can see the ripples fanning out behind it. They are called gravitational waves.

The scientists are overjoyed to have found the waves.

They say this collision will change the way astronomers go about their business of looking at the stars, and they will be able to ‘see through the fog right back to the Big Bang’.

Out in City West last weekend, there were a couple of ‘big bangs’ when the ballot boxes were emptied and counting began.

Much to my surprise, Alan Shatter was a casualty. He’s not a genial man by any stretch of the imagination, but he has a bit of steel that many of his former colleagues lack and he is a skilled parliamentarian. The bunch of ingénues who were elected as Independent deputies are going to find out just what an obstacle fence the Dáil can be.

The other ‘ big bang’ was the election of Michael Lowry, once more with such a huge vote. His defiance in running again reminds us that men are full of hubris. God be with the days when Tipperary was only famous for its hurling.

And why did Enda not listen to me? In this very column, I advised him to get the election out of the way in November and then he could have had a relaxed Christmas before resuming hostilities with Fianna Fáil and, more significantly, Sinn Féin, over the issue of who owns 1916.

THE Garth Brooks e pi s ode in 2014 showed up Enda at his worst, when he and his adviser, low on spunk and devoid of initiative, allowed the local families dictate the outcome of the debacle. Enda should have rushed in to become Garth’s best buddy and make full sure that the problems were overcome.

The Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael parties are like the two giant black holes that have collided with each other explosively many times.

The Civil War in 1922 was the last cataclysmic collision, dividing the country into Republicans, led by de Valera, and Free Staters, one of whose leaders was, of course, the formidable Michael Collins, who earned himself a reputation that places him somewhere between mythical and mystical. I’m a Collins man. The Civil War waves have gone on spreading, and all these years later, in some rural areas, they still like to know your stripe from the start – and the Skibereen Eagle is watching.

Even though we still deny it, during the endless negotiations that will give us a government, we will continue to hear the following: ‘Civil War politics’, ‘G’way ye Blueshirts’ and, of course, the Fianna Fáil supporters will continue to reiterate their catch-cry, ‘Up Dev’.

Those gravitational waves were detected, by the way, when they finally heard a tiny blip as one wave passed over another. As it did, it squeezed both time and space. I bring this up in relation to one of the catastrophic effects of electioneering in Ireland, and if you bear with me I think I have a solution to the pollution.

The trouble with having all these young people in politics is that they are better at climbing ladders than the old fogies and the downside is that this means an inordinate amount of posters.

What I am suggesting is leaving posters up until after St Patrick’s Day. The American visitors might feel right at home in searching f or physical resemblances or special features on faces that might fill in a few gaps in their ancestry.

But there’s a problem according to the website joe.ie – Irish people are the ugliest people in the world. Indeed, the current crop of posters confirm that this scurrilous accusation is not something we can dismiss lightly.

Now, remember the gravitational waves, squeezing time and space? Do you think, maybe, that’s how we got ugly?

I remember seeing a picture of Einstein, his face stretched and distorted, his hair flying in the wind as he rockets across space and time.

I’ve seen that face before, a couple of times last week at the counts, in fact, but sadly, between them all, there were no Einsteins available to vote for.

What they also need in Dáil Éireann is to make Louis Copeland the Ceann Comhairle and let him set the bar for acceptable fashion in the Dáil.

THEY could even have casual Fridays, except for Mick Wall ace, who would have to be forced to wear a suit on those occasions. Anyway, here is a little Einstein joke to finish up with.

Einstein was out walking in the park one day when he met a man, and Einstein asked him, ‘What is your IQ?’ The man replied, ‘165’, and Einstein said, ‘Sit down, we must talk.’

He wandered on and met another man. ‘ What is your IQ?’ he asked. ‘ 185,’ the man replied. ‘Brilliant,’ said Einstein, ‘sit down, we must talk.’

He wandered along again and asked the same question to one more man. ‘ What is your IQ?’ asked Einstein, and the man in question replied, ‘47.’

Einstein looked at him and said, ‘So how long have you been a councillor?’