No - not the bankers, the Wall street traders or the even dickhead property developers could have ruined Christmas '08 to the level that this pleb could have with one stroke of a pen. He nearly did, he nearly fucking did. If he had allowed that 'dioxin' (what a made up word) scare to go on any longer it would have been cans of Dutch Gold and some turkey for Christmas dinner. The Irish people were this close to not having any ham to mix with our parsley sauce during the festive period. Really - it was that fucking close. As close as these two blokes.
Anyway...Scrooge is actually called Brendan Smith, Minister for Agriculture who has done nothing of interest, politically, since entering the post in 2008 - except nearly managing to annihilate the agriculture industry of Ireland. Funny that, seeing as he is the Minister for said area and all. He also, in his previous role as Minister for Children, wanted to hold a referendum on children. This government won't even fork up the cash for the HSE to protect children, oh in say Roscommon, never mind spending the dosh on holding a referendum on their rights. Brendan Smith doesn't even know what children are. He thinks they are some sort of mutated garden gnome.
According to his website Smith was born in Cavan, wherever that is, and after he went to school and did other shit he became a "full time Public Representative". Impressive Brendan.
As I said Smith has done nothing really of political interest in the past few years. However, that doesn't mean he hasn't done anything of general interest while raking in loads of cash for being a full time public representative. I found out a few weeks ago that if you text the word 'DailSmith' to 56969 you can get Brendan's rendition of Take That's "Greatest Day" as a ringtone on your mobile.
(*If you text 'DailChat' to the number you can have a natter with Joan Burton. I was chatting away with Joan for fucking ages there yesterday - she is well sound. The same service offers downloadable pictures on to your phone of Brian Cowen. Four pictures a month for six euro. Sign me up I hear you say but I woudn't recommend it - I had to text 'stop' after seeing the second one).
But back to Brendan. In fairness, he is going to let one of the soon to be released prisoners of Guantanamo Bay stay in his gaff while the Department of Foreign Affairs finds them something on Daft. Michael Martin reckons that Cavan is a good halfway house between illegal incarciration and actual freedom - drip feed the prisoner back into normal life. Actually, that's who Brendan is talking to in the picture above, one of the prospective dwellers arriving from Gitmo. He spent New Years chilling in the Cuban detention centre working on his tan and apparently had a fucking sweet time. And I can see why he did from the photo above - Brendan you devilish rascal. (Randomers in the background are other people from his holiday package - I'd advise all three readers of this blog to check out the quality deal Budget Travel are doing on trips to Gitmo this summer).
Smith is also known for really long oblique references to shit and ridiculous attempts at Cockney rhyming slang. The following was apparently put together by Smith on a 'Questions and Answers' programme last month.
Brendan: "You know John - I'm really worried about all the young people who may soon find themselves on the Senator who ran as the Republican candidate for President in the 1996 US election against Bill Clinton".
Bowman: "You mean Dole?".
Smith: "Yes".
Going forward, things aren't looking too good for Brendan. As Minister for Agriculture it is important that he remembers one thing - the farmers will leave you out to fucking dry even if it appears like you have done them a favour. They have been doing that shit since the Earls booted off the Europe. A shot in the arm of €180 million for the lads after the 'dioxin' scare is not going to save Brendan's bacon (my finest moment - just right there) at the next election. The farmers still think Brussels is picking them off one by one, they are pissed and they blame Smith. I reckon he's already gone.
