Last night I watched a tape of Arlene Foster’s interview with Paul Clark on UTV. In some ways it was similar to any of these interviews – the presenter tries to tie down the politician, preferably with some damaging admissions, the politician wriggles and avoids the question. This one was a bit like that too, but contained at least three quite different elements.
- Paul Clark kept saying ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’ when Arlene offered an answer. He must have said it three or four times. That of course is very nearly the tag –line of the great Mandy Rice-Davies. Back in the 1960s when the defence counsel at the Profumo trial was questioning Mandy, he pointed out to the fun-loving prostitute that Lord Astor denied having an affair with her. Mandy looked at him with her big eyes and replied, with a little giggle in the middle, “Well, he would, wouldn’t he?”. The huge majority of the British public believed what Mandy claimed – that Astor had been caught with his trousers around his ankles. Paul Clark didn’t say to Arlene Foster “Right – that’s your story because it suits you to have it your story, not because it resembles the facts”; but he came pretty near.
- Arlene kept brushing aside any reference to RHI. You might think that scarcely credible, since RHI was the massive truckful of hay that broke the camel’s back. But Arlene said no, no, no, that wasn’t what brought the Executive down, it was Sinn Féin’s refusal to work in harmony with the DUP. There was no point in discussing RHI, she suggested, since the public inquiry had been set up and would deal with the matter in full. Translated: For God’s sake lay off talking about the RHI, which we in the DUP devised and ran; there may well be fire and brimstone when the inquiry reports, but that won’t be until after the election, so meantime stop talking about it. I thought there was a chance the RHI scandal wouldn’t survive as a story through the turkey and plum pud haze of Christmas. How little I knew. Uncomfortably, Clark keep reminding Arlene about the boiler thing.
- Arlene was clearly under instructions to avoid getting passionate, let alone combative with Clark. That’s a stance that’s not too difficult with Clark, who is and looks like and sounds like a nice man. So Arlene kept smiling and talking in a soft voice, almost conversational. No ‘Never! Never!’s here. Unfortunately, she came across less as a calm leader and more as someone who’s semi-detached from her position as party leader. A bit like a teacher amused by some wild version of events that a child is presenting. If I’d been a DUP supporter, I would have felt as dismayed as many were when Alan Dukes became leader of Fine Gael. He too had a mild, relaxed manner. Alan was seen as a nice man – not unlike Paul Clark, come to think of it. But he was never going to take the Fine Gael party anywhere other than to another electoral disaster.
Hark! What’s that sound I hear? Ah yes. The boys in the DUP backroom sharpening their knives. The Clark interview will have given an injection of elbow-grease to their preparations for the post-election shambles.



You mean this Paul Clarke https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cdRaN-oCsc
Your mention of the DUP and elbow grease in the one phrase , Esteemed Blogmeister, appears on the surface at least to indicate that the same party is set to continue its conservationist policy.
The policy of adhering to the renewable heat vibe, and even without FM Foster at the head of the, erm, greasy pole.
Truly has it been a winter of discontent for EM Forster, oops, FM Foster.
(One tends to mix the both of them up betimes, possibly on account of the former’s authorship of ‘A Passage to India’ and the latter’s being previously associated with the non-renewable bonfires of The Glorious Twelfth, aka ‘A Passage to India Rubber’).
Speaking of Winter brings to mind the most precise poem ever to nail down, magically, that interglacial season between the Fall and the Spring. Goose-quilled , of course by The Great Shakes.
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail.
Sadly, the signs are there – ominous signs – that the DUP are already using their renewable elbow g. to tie their leader to the greasy p. With the firm purpose of amendment to not only end her reign of error but also to send her homeward to the wee bit hills and glens of Femanagh to think again, in the wilderness of her local UUP Cumann.
What stands between her and the conflagration is the wee wet box of Maguire and Patterson (think Kelly and Foster as an equally unlikely coupling ) which is currently being allowed to dry out.
The only loose ends to tie up are as follows:
1.Will wood chips or India rubber (see above) be used as the paliowowy (a a daarlin’ word and Polish for ‘fuel’, Joxer) in the bonfire of Arl the Snarl’s vanities ?
2. Will the urn containing her ashes (political, of course – one writes go meafrúil, that’s ‘metaphorically’ in the lingua franca of Uí Cheallaigh) be sold for cash via a traditional retail outlet or via eBay ?
By a curious quirk of coincidence even as one Lady Leader is heading for the Exit sign down here south of the Black Sow’s Dyke, another Lady Leader (former) has simultaneously re-emerged through the Entrance.
Equally curious is how it was foreshadowed in the second verse of Winter:
When blood is nipp’d and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Yes, indeed, none other than the Joan whom everyone had thought to have well and truly gone for a, erm, Burton after she too had been immolated at the Geasy Pole.
So, folks, it’s bye, bye Arl the Snarl and hi, there Joan of Nark time !
A re-emergance which has prompted Literary Scholars of the Deconstructinist School to reassess the title of the Shakepearian play in which the lines first appeared: was it actually, ‘Love’s Labour Lost’ or was it in fact (gulp) ‘Labour’s Lost Lovey’?
Those who favour the latter point will point to the namechecking by the Great Shakes of two stalwats of the Irish (sic) Labour Party in the first verse: Dick Spring and Uncle Tom (see also above).
And even though there is no election in the offal, oops, offing (at least in the immediate offing) for Joan of Nark yet she is to be heard on the Southern unfairwaves with at least the same regularity as Arl the Snarl is on the Northern scarewaves.
Not least on a programme in which the former Yawnaiste (for it still she !) has always been made to feel warm, cherished, esteemed, appreciated, that sorta thingy:
– The Dame M. Finucane Show.
Unsrprisingly, The Great Shakes has, erm, cyrstal balled this occurrence, whch is short for re-occurrence. To-whit, to-who, in the fourth line of the third verse:
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marion’s nose looks red and raw.
The former Yawnaiste is to be heard these days to and fro-ing from studio to studio stiffling the listener’s will to live, or at the very least, stay awake.
Perhaps this hyper hopping and ventilating from mike to mike is a reaction (understandle, perfectly) from the lady’s being cooped up for four long, for four Long hourse, for four Long Kesh hours in the legroomy back of her official chauffeur driven Lada. Being confined there by the Dissatisfied Daughters of Darkness associated with the Anti-Water Charges Campaign.
Thus emerges , even more symmetery of a (gulp) Shakespearean dimension in the Nemises stakes:
-Look North for Lady Fire ! look South for Lady Water !
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Like being gummed to death by a 90 year old granny. Shallow doesn’t adequately cover it. Compare him to Nolan or Carruthers.
“Nice man” is not what certain young lady of my acquaintance of mine calls Mr. Clarke. Some years back this young woman entered the ‘Rose of Tralee” competition. Mr. Clarke was interviewing the contestants for the County Down heats, held that year in Warrenpoint. . Before being publicly interviewed each contestant had a preliminary rehearsal interview to allow them get the feeling of the process and thus boost their confidence. In the course of the rehearsal interview Máire (not her real name) let it be known that she was currently training for admission to the Garda Síochána.. Clearly surprised and evidently not that pleased Mr. Clarke asked her why she had not considered the PSNI. Máire explained she was not comfortable with the question and requested that he should not put it to her in the live public interview. Clarke demurred but apparently accepted the request. When it came to the live interview Clarke duly asked her about her career and she replied she was training to be a Garda. Immediately he followed up by asking her why she had not chosen the PSNI.As the gloves were now clearly off Máire replied that it would not be in the tradition of her family or her own personal choice to chose a career in the PSNI and that ithe force was as yet untested and untried. Needless to say she did not make it to the next heat. Her consequent view of Mr. Clarke makes an allusion to a certain reptile and concludes with a word rhyming with blunt.
See my link above Brian
I have indee, Colman. “The Mad Dogs of Killaloe”?