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As the dinosaur parties publish their joint framework coalition document the Greens should draw up their own strong agenda for the era of Covid and climate, and pull out if it’s not agreed, and implemented. By Michael Smith. In the absence of a relevant Labour Party the Greens have become by far the biggest force in Irish politics for wrestling with their consciousnesses, though Fine Gael pretends.  The Labour party always managed to lose and the Green Party has oozed pragmatism under sunny and collaborative Eamon Ryan.  But its new intake of TDs are giving him and the establishment, many of whom voted for them, shivers of concern.  So what should they do, according to their principles? Village advocates the principles of equality of outcome, sustainability and accountability.  If the Greens are seriously radical they are principles that should recommend themselves to them, if not to others, at least as we reel from a pandemic.  The Greens certainly champion sustainability but the reality is that it is not clear if the Greens are centrist or leftist, whether they emphasise freedom or equality, where they stand on fiscal redistribution. Principles do not therefore provide obvious solutions to the issue of whether the Greens should go into government with Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, conservative parties whose greatest comfort is the status quo and therefore for whom principles are, viscerally, anathema. This all makes it difficult to divine how compatible the Greens’ ideological principles, whatever they may be, are with our even more ideologically elusive civil war parties’.   So how would you apply ideological principles like either equality, sustainability and accountability or whatever principles drive the Greens, to the current coalition paralysis? Or is it more realistic to recognise that some questions have an answer according to principles, but some do not? While the Green party thinks about that and before it takes a decision, like anyone, it needs to get its evidence together – the data it uses to take an informed decision.  The background.  As background they have to factor in climate change, the biggest issue of our time; and Coronavirus, according to many the biggest event in a generation. Speculating reasonably they also have to factor in the likelihood that GDP will not rise overall for the next two or three years because of the epidemic, both generating frugality and tending to reduce runaway climate change. They might look at the motivation of their potential partners.  They could factor in that Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael might be expected to be more environmental and stronger on health and housing than formerly because of the jolt they got from the perceived electoral desire for change.  And the doubling of that jolt by the worst epidemic in a century. The dinosaurs are also desperate to import some radicalism  so they can face an electorate that genuinely voted for change. Radicalism that will not be provided by the dodgy and monochrome Rural Independents.  There was always reason to believe that hipster Varadkar and ascetic Martin were quite open-minded on environmentalism, the agenda of our times even if their records were meagre in practice.    We might add an unpleasant tangent to the data equation. I have myself a particular beef about the Greens. Having campaigned on environmental issues for a long time including before and during their time in government, I’m acutely aware of how little they achieved in coalition from 2007 to 2011. We need only to look at the statistics on what sort of impression they made on, for example, carbon emissions, sustainable urban and rural planning, biodiversity and modal-mix between sustainable transportation and cars. And in three-and-a-half years they didn’t even pass a climate act.  When justifying their time in government they like to point to measures they introduced but most of the measures were not implemented. That’s always been the case with the environmental agenda: adding to the edifice of law or regulation, as the Greens in government certainly did,  is no good if you don’t implement it.  Frankly there is no sign of change in this.  Their manifesto was very weak – not addressing planning,  the national planning framework, architecture, quality of life, sustainability indicators; not recognising that environmentalism is all about enforcement; and not pricing any of the party’s loose agenda on health, housing and transport.  There’s a danger that the Greens are shirking going public with a coalition agenda because they are not clear enough either on their own principles or on their own agenda. There is a danger that calling for the Greens to go into coalition with policy-light Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael exposes their covered-up Achilles heel. The Greens need to be clear that if they go into government it’s not to go through the motions, to set a tone, to adjust education or judicial policy or whatever. It can only be on the basis of a certainty that they will deliver their own basic agenda. And guaranteeing that certainty would require psychological change for the party, whose agenda needs to be hard-minded, but which embraces a substantial soft-minded membership. That’s the background. So back to the principles.  Ok I admit I can’t find a decision rooted in Green ideological principles, whether the ones I have recommended or the elusive ones that actually drive the Greens in the current circumstances.   I can find the principle of efficacy. That’s an overriding one that safeguards Green ideological principles.  The Greens should not go into government with anyone unless they can guarantee their agenda by systematically monitoring it and considering pulling out every year if it is not punctiliously implemented. The principle situation is not perfect but some types of decision are still better than others or than no decision. And it’s good to pursue strategies that have a potential upside but no downside. And a good generic strategy is that If you have to take a decision that is difficult or impossible, sometimes it is wise to delay taking the  decisions until the point arises when you have to. That’s a strategy not a principle. It is better

It seems probable that applying the necessary measures, currently mandated, deaths will be contained to 500-1000 with a return to normal beginning in the middle of May. By Michael Smith. It is important to follow Government recommendations and edicts. This need not stop us trying to work out what the future probably holds if we observe those strictures and continue with the infection patterns of the last ten days and the Chinese experience. There is a pattern to cases in Ireland. The Business Post of 15 March stated the health authorities predicted increases of 30% daily leading to 1.9m infections eventually.   If that rate was prevailing we would have had 4029 cases as of 27 March. In fact we have 2121. The Taoiseach had predicted 15,000 cases by the end of March, though he has now stated that no longer pertains.   In fact now assuming continuing substantially-sub-20% increases the figure is more likely to be around 6000 at the end of March. The former HSE head, Tony O’Brien, writing in the Business Post on 22 March, stated that reducing increases to 20% daily from then would reduce the figure to 60,000 https://www.businesspost.ie/coronavirus/half-a-million-infected-people-is-the-difference-that-is-in-all-our-hands-92694699.   Since we are now averaging closer to 15% this suggests a peak at around 35,000 (not 1.9m) cases with deaths of perhaps 500-1000 (1.5%-3%), compared with annual flu deaths of 200-500 according to the HSE in Ireland. If we follow the experience in China we will probably be relaxing social restrictions from the middle of May https://villagemagazine.ie/woo-hoo-wuhan-is-it-possible-ireland-will-be-in-the-position-china-finds-itself-in-now-in-the-first-half-of-may/. This all assumes testing in Ireland is giving a fairly accurate picture and that there is no resurgence. Ed’s note: The piece was updated on 9 April just to reflect recorded cases for the period since the article was published on 28 March

Success and the Fight to save Our World. By Michael Smith. He could truly remember his Dad from the day he was actually born, though in reality he never called him Dad. He used no name. Just the man. He was uncomfortable with the relationship.  It was so one-sided. It made him uncomfortable. No reciprocity. The man had liked success more than anything. From birth they’d been in competition.  For food, attention, his mother. Yes his mother. He was very strong even as a toddler, wouldn’t take correction even when the man beat him, narrow-eyed. The man was always keen to give tough correction and  never praised him.  Never. Sometimes he felt it bad. He didn’t care, knew he was great, better than that bastard. The man told him that life was about success but never that he’d actually be a success.  The man didn’t seem to think he would be a success.  Often he saw hatred. He remembered the man only ever started conversations that were about becoming a success.  Only ever. It was all about taking out the competition before they took you out.  Trust nobody. No-body. The man succeeded despite being an outsider.   Sometimes he got into trouble at school..  He had to leave a couple of them. The teachers were, like, assholes. Finished up in a military school.  He sorta liked that. Flags and prayers.  He got involved in some frat boy stuff and was beaten once or twice.  He liked the violence and the discipline.  He mostly stole his schoolwork. His mother was soft but aloof and she was no force in his life, she had her own battles with the man.  The only thing he had in common with the man was the work, and from his earliest days he loved to go on site.  By the time he was a teenager he was driving trucks and even operating a crane.  Unbelievable, a crane! He was fabulous at it and all the boys loved him.  Loved him. To be honest there was a distance and every so often his stuff would get stolen or the phone would go off, and he’d just hear stupid laughing on the line.  It didn’t matter, they were losers who worked for the man.  They’d eventually work for him.  He wanted to be a success, they wouldn’t be any part of it.  They were rude, ridiculous and sad.  He really didn’t care, knew he was great, better than that bastard. He went to a big college and scraped through, avoiding ‘Nam somehow.  He was very smart, very excellent IQ.  Very excellent. He always knew what would be in the papers.  He knew the people who set them. Very nice people. The man died and he took over the firm.  The boys called him Mister, now. He expanded it into the city, never paid anyone where he didn’t have  to, took some big risks and made the business and its new owner famous all over the country. The company was really big. The man died. They hadn’t spoken in months and before that when they spoke it was hard. Jealousy probably. Looking for attention.  By now he had lots of girlfriends.  He was good-looking and  liked to fuck.  And they liked his money. He was worth a lot of money, tens of millions.  Maybe a hundred.  A lot. He got a reputation as a phenomenal socialite.  He expanded the firm abroad, became a national figure, got involved in the media, bought some awesome buildings but was given bad advice and had to start again.  He did it, pressured the banks, he was the only one who knew what to do, where the bodies were buried. He married a beautiful model.  Then another and a third.  Lots of kids. Four.  Five.  He treated them like the man treated him.  The eldest girl though, she was special, she had the genes.  The family all had the best genes.  People said they had the best genes. Swedish genes.  The girls were tall and blonde, like him. Beautiful. He got his own show. Incredible.  His own helicopter, own plane.  He was worth a billion, two billion, five billion.  Famous. The man was just a builder. He went into politics. He was a success, a tremendous success. He stood for the Presidency, the most famous man in America from his reality show, for his billions and for the ladies, young ladies.  Grab them by the pussy, he said he would, with his dick fully half as big as he knew it was. The funny thing was he didn’t really want to be President, never had, couldn’t see the point except as something to get his rather small hands on, but one day he’d been to a big event, and the President, a black dude, took time out to tell jokes about him.  The lowlife was telling jokes about him. The audience, all around him, they laughed at the joke, laughed at him.  He was caught on international TV, rictus as the applause of the elite rippled and rerippled around the auditorium.  On TV! These dummies didn’t like him. That damn laughter. Horrible. He paid people to tell him what people who might vote for him wanted to hear and then he simply said whatever it was. It worked. Against the odds he won the Presidency.  It was easy, show no weakness. Call people names. The blacks, the gays, the muslims. Fake news. If only the man were there to see his success. The man hadn’t really been much of a success. Overrrated. He was different.  He was self-made. Big-league. Money, power, women. Fame. The American Dream, they said. The President didn’t really know what to do with the success.  It didn’t really suit him being President.  All these people had ideas that made no sense to him, ideas, principles, policies, books: redtape stuff they made up because they envied his success, and to make him feel bad.  It was stuff the man wouldn’t have recognized and it seemed they were just using it against him.  It was like the way they ridiculed the signature gold bathrooms he put in all his great buildings. He was a perfect President making America great again, a wonderful place to do business.  Winning again. The stock market soared, he kept the American way of life alive. His Empire, in the

Enda Gormley reviews Tom Creed’s affecting revival of Barry McGovern’s adaptation of Beckett’s novel ‘Watt’, at the Everyman During the latter half of World War II, Samuel Beckett found himself in a town called Roussillon d’Apt hiding from Gestapo officers. He and his partner’s involvement with the Resistance movement had led to their exile from Paris and refuge in the Southern French town to await the end of the war. It was here Beckett finished the novel ‘Watt’. He found solace in the process of writing it and once credited the work as “a means of staying sane” during this difficult time in Vichy France which was neither at war nor at peace.  Adapting the novel to the stage must have come with a feeling of obligation to stay faithful to its opaqueness, its sense of emptiness but also its hope. Director Tom Creed’s revival of Barry McGovern’s adaptation brings with it the weight and beauty of Beckett’s language and adds only what it must. The production attains a delicate equilibrium by bringing Beckett to life in an accessible manner without significant loss of generality. In fact there is a sense of timelessness which the production invokes by use of costume design and paring down of some of the more arcane language. It expertly bridges the gap between prose and theatre. Early on, the play introduces us to Mr Watt, a man at odds, and often perplexed by the world and its inhabitants around him. He arrives at a country house in which he is due to be employed as a servant. Finding the front door locked and a state of darkness he then attempts to gain entry via the backdoor, only to find that it too is locked. Unphased he tries the front door again to no avail before trying the back door for a second time; finding that it is unlocked or “on the latch” he enters the house a little confused. The production launches from this moment, showing us the world through Mr Watt’s eyes where a dichotomous view is never sufficient. Mr Watt serves Mr Knott, the owner of the house who lives on the top floor. Mr Watt serves Mr Knott without ever actually meeting him. During his time as servant of the house Mr Watt encounters other characters who come to also serve Mr Knott. Samuel Beckett once said: “I have never accepted the notion of a theatre of the absurd, a concept that implies a judgement of value. It’s not even possible to talk about truth. That’s part of the anguish’. This production respectfully accords by never staking too much on any line and by allowing uncertainty to reign. Barry McGovern massages the air of the auditorium in the Everyman Palace as he guides us through the madcap world set out by Beckett. He allows the language to make the impact adding ornamentation tactfully. His delivery is suitably vaudevillian in parts and candid when needed. There is comedy in the language and McGovern brings it bursting to life with his natural wit. In voicing the narrator he appeals to the intellect of the audience creating a recipe of thought with what could have been a wall of sound. During brief sojourns embodying characters he is emotional and deeply engaging. The novel doubles back and repeats itself so much that it could easily be a disaster on stage but with McGovern you feel you’re in safe hands. The audience is guided through the selected parts of the novel which combine to present a cohesive message all while delivering the main body of novel efficiently under the hour mark.  But of course some compromises had to be made by bringing this rambling book to the stage. You can feel the hand of the modern producer intervening on Beckett. The gluing together of disjoint pieces to make a play breaks the rhythm of the prose at times. This can be slightly jarring when McGovern is in full flow. There are also interruptions to the stream of consciousness before it reaches its logical climax. This, however, works to foster further uncertainty. But overall the piece is well suited to the stage which offers a blank canvas for the novel to be freshly retold each night in all its vagueness. The set and lighting design complements the production. The stage is sparsely decorated with a  chair and a hand-truck. It is suitably minimalist and allows for just two acting positions-sitting and standing (McGovern opts not to lie on the ground). The lighting provides a wide range of moods and scenes. It is nuanced and offers surprises in its variation. Overall this is a greatly affecting and altogether enjoyable production. Although the subject matter is dense, the pace is brisk and the overarching message is life-affirming. This ensures we do not dwell on what is lacking. It is teeming with the hope that Beckett associates with “perhaps”.