"I
believe for every drop of rain that falls a flower
grows"…
Tell
me I haven't finally gone beserk. Mark Durkan does
actually say this in that fucking SDLP election
broadcast! Mark has definitely made my mind up about
voting next Thursday. I am going to deface the ballot
again. Having toyed with the idea of voting for
the big plank just to keep Mitchell Mc Laughlin
out I have returned to my original thinking. It
doesn't matter one damn who I vote for. Apathy I
hear you say is a killer of aspirations. Who cares?
It's
better I lose my hopes and dreams rather than more
valuable brain cells listening to Mark Durkan tell
me that he is real and true republican. I too believe
that Manchester United can recover to win the league….
next year and that U2 are a good gig anywhere. But
after these revelations I am not allowed to have
anymore aspirations lest I lose my apathy and vote
for someone. So the anchester City supporters membership
form is in the post and sorry Bono, you'd better
give that backstage pass to someone else. I don't
like the cut of your audiences' jib my ego laden
friend!
Just
when you thought that migration to an offshore island
looks like a good move, apparently Dessie O'Halloran
playing the fiddle on Inisbollix is a good gig too!
M. Durkan, international man of mystery strikes
again!
What
next Mark? Fake your own death and re-emerge in
twenty years time revealing you had been recruited
into some branch of the Irish secret service to
search for really really really obscure references
to enhance your already swollen sense of Irishness?
One thing truly Irish about this SDLP campaign is
the choice of M. Durkan Jr, the nephew, being selected
as a council candidate much to the chagrin, I am
told, of other longer standing servants. I believe….
that nepotism rules in Derry! Has anybody told Mark
that just because he believes in almost everything
it doesn't actually make it true. For Christ's sake
tell him, the big slabber looks like he actually
means it.
Confronted
is the word I'm looking for. I was confronted last
Saturday morning on my doorstep by the archetypal
SDLP foot soldier. About 45 years old, perfectly
syled blonde hair, beautifully attired for a regatta
(well it was raining, that's as close as I can take
it), very good looking and full of superficial enthusiasm.
"Mark
Durkan MP and Mark Durkan Jr are here" announced
the sexbomb with an applomb that should have heralded
the first confirmed alien landings.
My
face obviously had WHO CARES all over it. The smile
faded at once. She smelled apathy and it made her
afraid. I think she was startled by the fact that
I hadn't gushed with pleasurable hysteria, reached
into my pocket for my comb and strode forward with
a rigidly outstretched hand to greet my prospective
public representative.
"Would
you like to meet them or ask them anything?"
"No,
thank you," says I.
I
wanted to ask if she had any sisters about fifteen
years her junior but with political correctness
being the way it is I thought I had better leave
it. Besides Football Focus was starting, the baps
were buttered and I could hear the teaspoon's tingles
caressing the side of the mug. Saturday morning
bacon baps are more valuable than platinum in my
house. I'm damn sure that fifty Durkans would not
make me miss out on mine and give the other greedy
gits an extra swill. Then I felt my mouth making
a shape. Too late, I was talking.
"Well
actually…you said Mark Durkan MP…he hasn't
won yet, so I take it that you meant Mark Durkan
MLA…"
"Oh.
. so you know who he is then," she said.
I
was eager to belittle her smugness and so rose to
the challenge. It is strange that membership of
a political party tends to make people think they
are more intelligent than they actually are. Slap
a rosette on any old moron any they start talking
the talk. Now she was about to walk the walk.
"I
hold two degrees in political science, so yes, I
know who Mark Durkan is. Are you not taking a terrible
chance in going around calling him MP two weeks
before the election? People won't like that sort
of presumption around here, they will vote for Mitchell
just out of spite."
"This
is a traditional SDLP area," she said. "People
will vote for Mark and
he will be MP for Foyle."
The
"I believe" mantra had obviously worked.
Say it and it shall be so.
I
believe…that I will be Benedict the 17th. Watch
this space folks, or PaddyPower.com. With the SDLP
in power there will be a better chance of my Papacy
than a well paid job in something I'm qualified
for in my own city. So Votail Sinn Fein for….
. I'm only joking.
"Then
why did you knock on my door if you know that I'm
going to vote for Mark Durkan MP? I come from a
long line of anarcho-syndicalists and we basically
destroy our votes every time an election comes around."
It
was obvious that by now that a sufficient bacon
bap guzzling period had elapsed. A piece of consolation
toast would have to suffice.
"Well
sure maybe then you won't destroy your vote this
time and give it to Mark instead." Of course
I found this immensely erudite argument totally
enlightening. I wanted to pledge myself forever
to the SDLP at that point, but my mouth was making
shapes again….
"No.
I won't be doing that." She was not too familiar
with the finer points of anarcho-syndicalism. Then
again, neither am I.
By
this point the poor lady was visibly bristling with
discomfort. So much in fact that she had obviously
secreted some sort of distress scent, Chanel NO.
5 perhaps, and the rest of the pack began to move
menacingly in my direction, perhaps under the misguided
belief that a serious debate was underway. In fact
not one piece of policy had been mentioned by myself
or the beautiful SDLP lady. No change there then
for the stoops. I was ecstatic that I managed to
stave off a load of shite talking without once hearing
the phrases "I believe" or "we in
the SDLP believe…" Worse, still Mark believes.
I have now become so allergic to that broadcast
that I don't turn the TV on until at least 7.30pm
when I come home from work. What's that you say?
Where do I work. In a computer call centre for 10,000
a year. Who brought an unscrupulous employer to
Derry to exploit graduates and everybody else? The
SDLP.
However
I have may have overestimated her willingness to
do this anyway. The SDLP has apparently started
touting this new policy of a united Ireland. It
sounds interesting but I didn't feel right pushing
the nice lady on it. I think she may have been very
unfamiliar with it. I got the distinct impression
that my vote was being sought in line with the lowest
common denominator. One nationalist partitionist
party thinks it can deliver better than the other
nationalist partitionist party. In the case of Sinn
Fein this is hardly a new ploy. In the case of the
SDLP however it smacks of desperation, as they always
liked to promote themselves as the sophisticates
who despised the barbarian hoards of republicanism.
Perhaps they still do. Maybe the flag they have
wrapped around them came from John Rocca at Debenhams
as opposed to being stitched together roughly in
the back kitchens of the Bogside or the Creggan.
It would seem that if Ireland has forty shades of
green, the stoops have as many faces to go with
them. I have heard it said that water charges will
not affect SDLP members as they already bathe in
Perrier.
The
choice basically lies between those who feather
the nest and take their seats and those who feather
their nests (by whatever ever means necessary) and
don't take their seats, although their steadfast
adherence to abstentionism has long been lost on
me. I consider taking Westminster seats less offensive
than taking Stormont ones. At least in Westminster
you take the fight to the enemy. At Stormont you
have tacitly accepted that the enemy is right. If
you want to smash the system from the inside (yeah,
right), you might as well do it from a bigger and
more comfortable seat. Fuck it, lets get Hansard
printed in Irish at Westminster too. I don't mind
paying more tax for something as worthwhile as that.
I wonder if Babs Brown is demanding the same in
Brussels as she did as health supremo at Stormont.
If you have accepted the principle of consent then
you might as well accept the fringe benefits, at
least they would be legal benefits. Says I who hasn't
bought a packet of duty paid fags for years.
Another
very curious aspect of the campaign in good old
Derry City is that I had found myself wondering
about Gerry Adams quite a lot for no apparent reason.
Then I realised as travelled about my normal business
that his big hairy kite is beaming down at me from
every other lampost. What the West Belfast MP's
image is doing all over Derry is beyond me. In some
areas his posters actually outnumber those of the
actual candidate Mitchell Mc Laughlin. Der Fuhrerprinzip
is extraordinary now, Gerry definitely hasn't gone
away you know! I wish to God he would though and
take the rest of the grovelling bastards with him.
If you ever wanted to speak to a politician do it
this week, next Friday they'll step over you as
you lie dying on the footpath. I just hope it isn't
apathy that kills you, I'm told it's a particularly
boring way to die.
Meanwhile
in good old Londonderry the UUP & DUP…oh,
what's the point, even their own members vote for
somebody else down here.
