Kevin Writes.

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Above: An auld ilo from rabble 10 when Oireachtas Retort dragged us down memory lane to look at RTE’s coverage of the whole sorry debacle. Props to Redmonk for the scribble.

There’s some fierce uncomfortable shite coming out of the mouths of those propping up the regime at the moment. Here’s the sinister fringe’s bard in residence, Kevin Higgins with a response to Finian McGrath’s accommodation with his new political reality.

Take it away there Kevin.

Recitation by An Tuasal McGrath on His Ascension Into Cabinet

I’ve long been acknowledged by colleagues of every persuasion and none, by friends real and imaginary, and by my many enemies whose names I won’t waste time putting on the record of this house – we’d be here all year – as a man proud to go around the place mouthing the word integrity.

I thank the Taoiseach for making every disabled person in the country, as of today, my personal responsibility. I thank my twenty six cousins, all of whom are in the Visitor’s Gallery tonight, wearing Irish Tweed suits they had specially knitted for the occasion.

It is a great honour for the people to have me serve them. I urge people not to bother reading the programme for Government. Instead, members of this house should take a look at what’s under the table obvious to all brave enough to see it and engage with it.

This has been called a grubby deal. I reject such hyperbole. There was a far inferior one done in eighteen fifty four. Members opposite have sat with their hands on their private parts for the past seventy days. This has not been easy. And it will, we have to hope, prove unpopular. But I will be taking no lectures from anyone except myself. I call on people to take particular care not to read page four of the document.

I will stand up for people with cystic fibrosis, speak passionately at each and every one of their funerals, whatever the political consequences for me personally.

I guarantee, there will be less disabled people as a percentage of our gross national product this time next year than there are today. And those who remain will have the right to all the Cadbury’s Cream Eggs they can watch me eat.

Please to do not insult the people who put me here by calling me grubby. Grubby was several stops back.



Kevin’s fourth collection of poems is out now and called The Ghost In The Lobby. His blog can be read here.

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