Dramas and scandals

Willie O'Dea, the man behind that infamous gun, is gone.

After surviving a vote of confidence in the Dáil, it seemed the Limerick man was safe. He would have sat back in his chair and given a sigh of relief. His body was probably still tense with worry and his greying moustache more than likely still quivered in fear. A vicious attack on him in the Dáil by Enda Kenny would have left him shaking. 

'The Government are harboring a perjurer, it's perjury!',the Fine Gael leader cried, possibly intent on pointing the finger at somebody else, and diverting everybody's attention from his own party's celebrity dramas last week. George Lee, a man who has forever been predicting from behind his crystal ball, probably knew this was all going to happen already.

A casual comment about a fellow Limerick man owning a brothel-what has our government come to in recent years...? The Irish sit glued to their screens every Wednesday night waiting for the latest episode of 'The Dáil', popcorn in the microwave, hot toddies being passed around, Dunnes Stores mini cans of Club Orange for the younger crowd, it would remind one of the days of the 'Big Big Movie' on a Saturday night. The intro sounds loudly, people tap their feet in unison to the music, and the screen pans out to show a large room.

Abuse, scandal and derogatory comments fly from all sides of the room. Parents block their children's ears when Paul Gogarty's face comes into focus. They breathe a sigh of relief as he controls his 'parliamentary language' to that of John Kelleher's idea of a PG standard.

On the 'Dáil Extra', a programme with exclusive behind the scenes action, interviews,and diary-room events, Quinlivan, the man at the end of O'Dea's brothel comments, sits in the diary room chair and speaks to the camera, 'It’s hardly acceptable for a cabinet minister to go around smearing his political opponents in the middle of an election campaign’. The popcorn is passed around the room, loud munching noises and people nod their heads in agreement.

Alas!The tapes have been recovered...a journalist holds his head high-of course he did not make up such a comment on O'Dea's behalf. An advertisement break, the kettle is put on and a few toilet breaks, you can feel the suspense heighten in the living room.

Willie, himself, is slumped in his seat. It seems comments about brothels and Sinn Féil candidates can get you nowhere in life. The Greens are split in two, divided down the middle, do they agree with O'Dea's affidavit mistake? It is perjury? Or did it really slip the poor man's mind he made such a comment?

'I swore an affidavit to the best of my recollection...', Willie claims. 

Murmurs of disagreement echo around the living room. Grandad, a firm Fianna Fáil supporter, hangs his head in shame. What has become of the party that fought for a free Ireland in the twentieth century? They built an independent country, and now their scandals and mistakes are pulling out the threads from the seams, one by one.

He appeals to the opposition, 'I say things I don't really mean sometimes in the heat of battle...', he stumbles upon his words. It seems that all is lost. The Dáil agrees they have confidence in O'Dea however, the people at home begin to reassess their opinions of him...well, if the Dáil says he's okay, then maybe he is...?

The televisions are switched off..people resign themselves to bed in a state of confusion.

Thursday night, breaking news. O'Dea has resigned himself from the Dáil on the grounds that he felt his continuation in the office would distract from the important and vital work of the government. Well, wasn't that thoughtful of him?

Now, how did that come about? What changed the government's decision over night..?

Microwave popcorn boxes and mini cans are thrown into the trollies on Wednesday morning around the country. The dinner is eaten quickly, phones are taken off the hook and the country settles in by the television for another week of hype, drama, scandal and affairs...

DC.