One Hundred Columns Later: How Little Changes

"I'm not interested in wealth. Anyone who knows me knows this is true. I associate wealth with trouble and I don't really need that. Once I can have a few jars, talk to the guys, go down the Tolka and Croker - that makes me happy."
- modest Man of the People Bertie Ahern

"Yea, from the table of my memory/ I'll wipe away all trivial fond records..."
- "Hamlet", Act 1, Scene 5

By Charley Brady

Along with his then Finance Minister Brian Cowen (who of course went on to even worse things) he was the Beloved Leader who sowed the seeds of our current crop of woes here in Ireland. He is still in the shadow of one of our endless tribunals but yet is touring the world free from the care and woe that afflicts the rest of our lives.

He rarely attends the Dail any more even though he is not averse to picking up the shekels that he is "entitled" to. In fact he only bothered to show his grinning gob for a total of twelve whole minutes while Brian Lenihan was outlining how much we were going to be giving to the banks. His autobiography - for which work of complete fantasy he was given tax- free status - lies gathering dust and unloved in book warehouses the length and breadth of Ireland and Britain but he continues to fearlessly set the record straight on what a remarkable gift to Ireland and, indeed, the world that his very presence is.

He exists in an alternate reality where he single-handedly brought Ireland into the 21st century. There were no other factors at play at all. None at all. There was only the divine light that hung around this modern Hero and gave a holy glow to everything that he touched.

When he conspicuously turns up at church - in between lecturing us on how he lives by the Beatitudes of Christ and the Ten Commandments (the one about "though shalt not tell little white ones" is somewhat problematic in this context) - he must get down on his knees and give thanks to whatever he believes in, that the brainless people of Ireland are happy to accept the mask of the common man that has only slipped on the very odd occasion. He must curse the anger that erupted in him when he told anyone who was dubious about the healthy state of the countries finances to go off and commit suicide. That was a bad mistake.

Still, he reflects, he did have a chance to talk recently, bottom lip quivering with emotion, of how he knew two people years ago who had taken that drastic last step. That should show the eejits how sensitive he is.

Yes, it is of course Bertie Ahern, the man once described by Ireland's premier white collar crook, his one-time master and mentor Charles J. Haughey, who famously described him as the "the most devious and cunning of them all". Yes, that's what passes as a compliment in political Ireland.

He may be all but vanished from politics but he never goes away as we discovered this week, trawling through what else is coming to light about what this Chancer Supreme is gouging out of the taxpayer now.

We'll catch up with that later in the column.

I feel no embarrassment at covering old ground this week since I noticed as I sat down to write this that it is my 100th article for the Irish Examiner. I'm amazed really, as I didn't think that I would last beyond perhaps half a dozen pieces.

From the start I was determined to cut away the dry presentation of facts and to write as I speak. I also hoped to strike a chord with those that I hear in supermarkets, bars, and shops or on the street; to get across the frustration and the sense of helplessness that the ordinary punter feels these days. I am one, after all. One of the many who lost money because we thought that organisations like banks were reasonably solid and run by men who at least thought it was in their own best interests to look after their investments.

It all sounds so pathetically naïve now. What a country of virgins we were. Of course anyone making an investment knows that it can go either way and that's just tough luck if you make the wrong one; but to have your entire pension, as so many have, rubbed out completely? And simply because of the greed, arrogance and sheer feral venality of men who - rightly as it now appears - considered themselves above the law? This is just plain wrong. And even worse is to give them huge golden parachutes and kiss-offs as compensation for being incompetent and crooked.

I for one will never stop calling for them to do real time.

For letting me write pretty much what I feel strongly about I have to thank the paper's publisher, Paddy and in particular a big thanks to Grahame, the editor. In these past couple of years I can only recall one occasion where he changed something slightly and I was on a right old rant that day. I've written stuff in the past for others that I hardly recognised by the time that it hit the magazine in question.

Grahame, you have my sympathy for having to wade through this stuff every Monday.

I won't keep you much longer before returning to the Humble One but I just want to thank all those who email me. I even appreciate the nutters and the ones who genuinely don't like me. That's OK. Since it's often the same characters I can only assume that you keep reading in order to see how I've upset you this week.

Personally, I think that the world is a richer place with you folks in it.

As to the lords and ladies who offer encouragement, you already know how much I appreciate it. And to those who send long and detailed emails (in particular take a bow, Patrick) I know how time-consuming it is so again, thanks. Also to Mike Bowen in Australia and Alicia Colon, both of this paper. Always good to hear from you. I know Alicia may not exactly agree with a lot of my stuff but I do like the passion that shines through in her words.

Enough!

I've just been looking through the past two years' columns and it's odd how the country has changed. I suppose I started when it had pretty much dawned on everyone that we were all living in a fools' paradise and grew through the realisation that we were broke both individually and as a country.

We knew that the Church was not to be trusted at any level, although the sheer wickedness of the covering-up for rapists wasn't widely known. Also, the unbelievable extent of what this polluted organisation would do to keep both continuing to exist and to keep parting the faithful from their hard- earned loot was yet to become as obvious as it did later.

Despite the growing disenchantment with the Fianna Failures the mass exodus of grassroots members from their ranks hadn't yet begun. Indeed, I met a lady a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't seen for ages. We would often have banter about her misplaced loyalties but the vehemence with which she now rejects them and the on-the-ground work that she did for them in her own time really knocked me back. This was a woman that I thought would never turn away from the self-styled Soldiers of Destiny.

She is far from the only one, even in this small village. Apropos of nothing, it's kind of interesting that female members are a lot more bitter in my experience than their male ex- FF counterparts.

We always knew that solicitors loved money and they certainly proved it through the endless Tribunals. I doubt if many of the public who haven't an interest could now tell you what the findings were and which are still ongoing. You would find less who could give a damn.

The arrogant bankers who we were supposed to trust with our money were yet to be seen for the incompetent shower of greedy, lawless and most worryingly of all, criminally stupid gang of wide boys that they turned out to be.

Indeed, glancing randomly through the last couple of years' writings what is obvious is that things just got progressively worse. Look at "The World of Death's Head Harney" from November 19, 2008:

"In the ongoing row over the cancellation of the vaccine that would prevent 26,000 young girls possibly going on to develop cervical cancer there has been a vote to determine if the decision can be reversed.

"After all, the savings by cancelling it will be a measly €10 million. When you look at the nonsense that we have blown our money on in the last fifteen years it is a pittance.

"I wish that I could say that our leaders did the right thing, but this is our craven bunch we're talking about so of course the FF ministers saw the challenge off with no difficulty at all.

"[Mary Harney] must be so proud. Why is she even clinging on since her party, the useless sell-outs of the Progressive Democrats, were dissolved this week is anyone's guess. They just do hate to lose power, don't they?" Some things never change.

Sometimes I seem to have been quite prophetic and at others bloody embarrassingly wrong. You see, I had kind of hoped that FF would be whining from the Opposition benches at this point. Here's one from June 2009 when we couldn't answer the bloody door because there would be some politico promising change beyond your dreams. In "Political Posters, Fallen Saints And Me" I grumped:

"I saw a poster for the Prince Lucifer Morningstar Party the other day and it was proudly emblazoned with his logo surrounded by the fires of Hades itself as if Satan knew that we would vote for him before we ever again voted for the likes of Brian Clown, Big Brain Brian Lenihan and Typhoid Mary Harney of our crumbled Health System." Of course, in my defence, it hadn't occurred to me that Our Lord Lucifer was behind the scenes, doing the much more effective job of pulling the strings anonymously.

Ah, it's all so clear to me now.

And just to bring us full circle here's "Straight From The Horse's Mouth", dated June, 2008 where Ahern 'explained' his eccentric financial arrangements:

"I won't rehash this bewildering and ongoing saga that is being played out in front of an increasingly exasperated Mahon Tribunal (in a wonderful irony the Tribunal was set up by the man himself to sort through dodgy goings-on) but they include carrying sums of Irish punts over to Manchester where he mysteriously travelled the length and breadth of the city turning it into sterling in the back of cars, in the foyers of hotels and of course in bars over a pint of Bass beer.

"Remember, the man who was Minister for Finance at the time didn't have an Irish bank account, was living in a bed-sit and was to all intents and purposes squirreling his cash away under a mattress [in hindsight, with what he may have known of the crooked banks that the rest of us trusted, he may have had the right idea] so that he could swap Irish punts for sterling in England in order to buy a place here. That never happened...

"Of course the one thing that was consistent about the ex-Taoiseach through the years was his ongoing portrait of himself as a Man of the People.

"He loves to be seen as a plain man who enjoys nothing better than a chat with old pals over a pint."

So here we are at Mass with Bertie once more as he gives thanks for all the luck in his life. Still, he wishes that he hadn't given that interview where he boasted that he could sink seven or eight pints and still be fully functioning; in fact could even drive with no bother at all. With all the killjoys on about the harm of binge drinking at the moment that wasn't a good idea. These things can come back to haunt you.

But I've told dem dat I go on de dry for Lent and de 'ould mont of November.

Anyway, dey've short memories so de have. Look at de eejits on de Late Late Show when I appeared. De feckin' half-wits clapped at every ting I came out wit, no matter how stupid. Sure, I'm blessed so I am. Especially when I do be pretendin' to be confused and stuttering and humble.

And de blessings of de Little People were on me when I couldn't remember how I came across all dat money and was surely inspired when I told dem dat I won it on de horses, beGod.

Dat Hamlet fella had de roight idea: scrub oud of de old memory anyting dat might look bad. I'm sure dey bought de horse's malarkey. Any road, wid me skulling all dose pints 'tis no wonder de old brain is a bit gone. Good job it doesn't stop me from counting de loot, so it is.

He recalls that day in October when it became known that he was the highest paid Leader in the free world, earning more even than George Bush. He'd have been happier if it hadn't come out but it was gratifying all the same, so it was. Pity about that little bollix Willie O'Dea being paid more than then vice-president Dick Cheney, but sure 'tis no harm to spread the luck around.

And now that shower in the media digging up more dirt on him, he thinks as he counts his blessings and pretends to drop a coin into the collection plate.

Now they've found out just how much his chauffeur-driven Mercedes S350 was costing the taxpayer.

Ok. Enough. We know that Ahern is a man who CAN NOT feel embarrassment so here it is: of the four ex-Taoiseach who are given chauffeur driven cars to ease their painful path through life Bertie came top of the league at €175, 635 for 2009. Of course it's kind of understandable as a lot of the mileage was run up as he toured the country trying to flog his useless life story. Now some of you may be wondering how in the name of sanity that benefits Paddy and Brigid Q. Sucker but you're just being an ungrateful, cynical lot.

Sure, didn't the man have to survive the year on his TD's salary of €98,424 on top of his pensions amounting to €98,901; and all he got from his expenses last year was €22,442.

The self-proclaimed "socialist" also trousered €145,000 from the Washington Speakers Bureau. Pretty good, eh?.

Well, he doesn't have a driver's license so the car has to be on 24-hour standby, presumably in case Barack Obama or Gordon Brown need him to fly over to give advice at short notice.

The real-life little people have taken cut after cut but the Man of the People openly says that he doesn't see why he should. At least one of the other recipients, Albert Reynolds, was blunt: "Didn't I make enough money for them when I was there? I'm worth more to them than that".

Albert came in close behind Bertie at €173,843. God knows what that was about. Liam Cosgrave-gone from leadership these past 33 years - was more modest with €169,437 and Garrett Fitzgerald came in at a small €165,332.

I tell you, these lads would want to be getting a few tips on how to squander public money from the Master, who once spake thus: "I don't have a current driving license. I don't need one. I've been lucky enough to have a state car for the past eighteen years or so." That statement was made in 2003, in case you're wondering.

They could also take a few tips from creepy John Gormless of the hypocritical Limp Greens Party; but we'll talk about how much time the man who loves to lecture us on carbon emissions spent being flown around by chopper soon.

I doubt, given the bad life that I lead, that I'll see you in another 100 columns but I do hope to see you next week!

Same bat-time!

Same bat-channel!

You can reach Charley at chasbrady7@eircom.net