Art O’Leary, the chief executive of the Independent Electoral Commission has just publicly admitted that the Irish Electoral Register could be inflated by as much as 500,000 names through duplication or through not removing people who have died. Thus, he warned that the disappointing official turnout of 59.7 per cent in the recent national election was ‘a very blunt measure by which to judge the performance...or the engagement of people generally with democracy’. More worryingly, Mr O’Leary did not mention those who had emigrated out of the state (such as yours truly) but are still on the register. He also noted that no-one should expect it to be fixed any time soon, adding helpfully ‘I don't know if that figure is correct or not, but it sounds to me as if it's about right’. When challenged that voter fraud was now more likely as a result, Mr O’Leary’s conclusion was hardly a resounding reassurance, ‘if it happens then it is probably immaterial, I suspect. But like I said, we have no evidence of that.[1] In short, Art doesn’t know and is guessing, but it really doesn’t matter too much, so don’t hold him to any of it, please.
Did ‘Wokeness’ cost Democrats the Election?
It was 2020, during the height of the ‘Black Lives Matter’ protests when TV host, Trevor Noah, finished his ‘Daily Show’ comedy programme with a clip from a city whose name I forget. A local store (a Target supermarket I think) had been deliberately set on fire and a young black woman was interviewed nearby. She stridently defended the protesters’ actions saying (effectively) that it was the expression of their anger and a clamour for change by the local Black community. Noah, who is an upper-middle class, South African Black comedian, uncharacteristically signed off his segment without challenging her spiel, instead sombrely asking who were we to argue the Black Lives Matter protestor’s point of view.
Coincidence and Voter Fraud
The noise was sudden and loud, a metallic thud, followed by the screech of breaks and a second dull thump, then silence followed by shouts and excited cries. I jumped up from the meeting table and ran outside the door of our office, which exited onto the junction just below the Catholic church in Castlebar. While I sprinted down Tucker St to my jeep, my brain was inexplicably sending me images of my father and sister standing shocked in the road. I came to a small car, with the driver sobbing in gasps, wedged sideways in the street. She had failed to yield to the right-of-way at the junction and was struck by an oncoming vehicle which sent her own car, pummelling down the narrow street, miraculously missing all the parked cars, except mine and which my girlfriend was sitting in. Once checking everyone was ok, I then turned to look up to the other car and recognised it immediately as my father’s. Both he and my sister, who he had been taking to the hospital for a check-up, were shaken but okay. Later, the attending Garda (police officer) made several attempts to understand how the vehicles owned by me and my father were the only ones damaged by the errant car — especially as neither of us knew the other was in Castlebar that day. ‘It’s too much of a coincidence’ he repeated ‘what are the chances, hah?’, perhaps thinking some sort of elaborate insurance fraud on our part. But it wasn’t. Coincidences do happen even, even as our brains ascribe meaning to otherwise random events, which seem to be unavoidably connected.
The Voters are Revolting!
During an episode of the BlackAdder the Third comedy series set in eighteenth-century England, Hugh Laurie as the British Prince Regent, remarks to Edmund Blackadder (Rowan Atkinson) ‘I say Blackadder, I hear the peasants are revolting in France!’. Blackadder looks over at his dogsbody sidekick (played excellently by the hangdog-looking Tony Robinson) and responds, ‘By the look of Baldrick they're pretty revolting here too’. Its funny because it’s true, as to how those in power have traditionally regarded the ordinary people when they don’t behave as they should. However, this establishment bias has persisted into the present day.
Election Day in America, Tiny Margins & Luck
Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone had the numerical superiority, with the English army pinned between his Gaelic forces and their besieged Spanish allies in Kinsale town. Lord Mountjoy had seriously weakened the last area of English power around Dublin (known as ‘the Pale’), by gathering as many men as he could muster from loyal garrisons, in his rush to confront the Spanish troops who had landed on the south coast on 2 October 1601. A defeat of Mountjoy’s men would have had catastrophic consequences for English rule in Ireland. With the Pale and ultimately Dublin city left in a desperately weakened state to face an onslaught of the resurgent Irish, the Crown’s remaining allies in Ireland would likely have found their reasons to change sides and O’Neill would probably have been crowned King of Ireland — but for ill-fortune.
Paradise Lost and the US Election
With America’s Rubicon election fast approaching on November 5th, Donald Trump’s supporters seem increasingly confident of victory (at least publicly), while left-leaning commentators are sounding the alarm about troubling poll shifts in the seven ‘swing states’ that will decide the election. All other states have sizeable majorities for one party or the other, so deep-rooted loyalties and a first-past-the-post electoral system mean little chance of surprise. But with razor-thin poll margins in these ‘swing states’, polling companies ‘interpreting their results’ and a recent influx of Republican-leaning (and often dubious) pollsters, the only thing certain is a tense election night and following few days ahead. This election will likely hinge not on anyone changing their mind last minute but on sheer voter turnout (and legal actions by Republicans to stop the counting of their opponent’s votes).
A.I. and the meaning of life
Donald Trump’s face is set in concentration, wading through almost hip-high floodwaters on some overcast, unknown street. He appears to be listening to his companion, likely discussing the extent of the inundation. Both are wearing orange life-jackets as they trudge past stranded cars in the background. This photograph swept through social media, with an accompanying wave of support for the former president who — unlike his nemesis in the White House — was heroically on-the-ground helping with the effort to save lives in the states affected by Hurricane Helene…
Who are the real Climate Deniers?
‘You could fry an egg on the sidewalk here…if it wasn’t already boiled in your pocket!” As I self-congratulated myself on my wit, an actor colleague from South-Korea looked at me with a mixture of incomprehension and pity, ‘why are you cooking eggs on the…ground?’. Realising he now thinks I live in Skid Row, I changed the topic from the recent insanely hot weather in L.A. to talking about the insanely wet weather in Ireland but his confusion only worsened, ‘where is ‘Ahland’?’. So I put my accent back in its box and decided to pay more attention to the Casting Director leading the class…
Slick Suits and Dangerous Talk
‘One of these candidates is much slicker than the other, is a much more practiced, kinda professional, debate-style speaker — and the other candidate won’. So went the post-Vice Presidential Debate analysis on the liberal news channel MSNBC, as summed up by panel host Rachel Maddow. Elsewhere, former Washington Post and CNN political commentator and journalist, Chris Cillizza, claimed JD Vance was ‘outstanding’ for 99 per cent of the debate, against an ‘uneven’ and nervous Tim Walz, before failing to disown Trump’s lies about non-existent election fraud in the previous election. Meanwhile, on the pro-Trump Fox News network, the CBS moderators were condemned for fact-checking Vance on his campaign’s infamous claims of illegal pet-eating Haitians in Springfield, Ohio. Meanwhile, Donald Trump Jnr crowed ‘that it was a masterclass, it was a spectacular performance’ by his father’s running mate. Immediate post-debate polls of focus groups showed Vance winning slightly. Many commentators expressed how strangely nice it was to see Republican and Democratic politicians actually discuss policy issues and avoid character assassinations, while not appearing to detest each other. In reality though, how much does any of this matter?
The Trump supporting Green party of America
She was polite but purposeful, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you said something about the Green party in Ireland?’. Her half-smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she leaned in almost anxiously, studying me. I had been chatting (clearly too loudly) to another actor at the end of a casting workshop about how online auditions (known as self-tapes) had become the norm since we all were forced online during the Covid pandemic. My fellow actor was hearing the compelling stories of how I had found myself as the new chairperson of the Mayo Greens at the outbreak and led our monthly meetings into the virtual space of ‘can you hear us now?’ chants and back-to-front cameras. Taking advantage of the interruption, he found something incredibly interesting in the far corner of the car park which required his urgent attention, leaving me with my new and insistent conversationalist.
Lies, Damned Lies and Opinion Polls…
It was one of those miserable post-Christmas weeks in Kerry a few years back when a local correspondent in The Kerryman summed up the news succinctly as: “No news this week”. A grey January in Sneem, where the biggest event might be the odd sheep wandering into the village, doesn’t lend itself to breaking headlines. But as I sit here in sunny Los Angeles, in the middle of a sprawling city brimming with election fever, I’m struggling to come up with real news myself.
Teaching Racism While Eating Cats and Dogs…
How Trump’s delusional lies about immigrants fuels a deeper worry about Irish schoolbooks…
By any sane assessment, an angry and unprepared Donald Trump lost heavily in the ABC News Presidential Debate on Tuesday night last, against a confident and joyful Kamala Harris. He lied, as he does, forcing factchecks from the moderators and was easily baited by the barbed remarks of his opponent; into ridiculous claims of; his vast crowd sizes; that he had nothing to do with the January 6 attack on the Capital which was the fault of Nancy Pelosi; a migrant crime wave was sweeping the country and Haitians were eating the pets of residents in Springfield, Ohio (the last a crazy lie which normally would have concerned relatives googling costs of nursing homes).
IRISH ‘MAGA’ supporters and a canary-yellow shirt
What possessed me to wear a canary-yellow shirt to the Fianna Fáil meeting in Ballina? I was glowing in a sea of monochrome jackets, jumpers and tops, only matched by my throbbing red face. Most of the other party faithful, representing the various ‘cumann’ or local party branches in the North Mayo region, were gathered in the large, weakly lit ballroom of the Downhill Hotel. The backslapping, laughter and excited chatter had spilled slowly in, but then quickly fanned away from the TV crew from Dublin ensconced inside the door, creating a large empty gap where only a careless or unwary visitor would stray… or someone in a canary-yellow shirt.
America may be talking itself into a civil war
As I crossed the pedestrian walkway, a flatbed truck driver leaned out his window and unleashed a barrage of angry words at me. The wind swallowed most of his rant, but the essence was clear: he was furious, and his fury was aimed at “Democrats”, “budgets”, and “billions of dollars”. My puzzled expression likely only heightened the veins bulging in his neck. With a final, dismissive curse, he sped away, his old truck groaning under the strain, but not before glaring at me through his rear-view mirror. The faded U.S. flag sticker on his window was a faint clue to his political leanings, though I was more perplexed by why he assumed I was a Democrat. Was it my outdated 1990s attire—jeans, shirt, and blazer combo—that my wife swears she will leave me if I wear again?
Fake Political Experts
My father, Billy Heffron, was enjoying himself, mid-flow in conversation, a cup of tea in his hand and biro-filed paperwork strewn across the kitchen table of his host — a small farmer outside Ballyhaunis. As agricultural consultant, Billy had called to his farming client a few hours earlier to complete forms for some farm scheme or other. However, in the lively talk and laughter afterwards, which is a well-known feature of my father’s visits, the evening had closed in quickly. Too quickly. The farmer jolted forward and yanked up the volume on the radio which had been infusing the room with low-level MWR FM in the background.
Gotcha! How Trump outsmarts the Media
It is one of the most memorable moments in movie history. Set in a stifling courtroom, during one of the final scenes of Aaron Sorkin’s A Few Good Men, Jack Nicholson (as Colonel Jessep) delivers his greatest monologue, relishing the opportunity to teach Tom Cruise (as upstart lawyer Lieutenant Kaffee) a few home truths of his iron-fisted command over Guantanamo Bay Naval Base. However, Cruise’s character has instead set a ‘gotcha’ trap for his ego-charged superior, with the provoking demand ‘I want the truth!’. Without awareness of his hubris and impending legal peril, Jessep famously replies with, ‘You can't handle the truth!’ and then is drawn him into admitting that he ordered an illegal punishment of another soldier, resulting in his arrest on the stand. It is one of the ultimate gotchas of our shared cinema culture.
The Risks of Second-in-Command
Vice-presidential nominees have “virtually no impact,” according to Donald Trump, when recently asked if J.D. Vance would be ready to take over "on day one, if he has to be." This clear snub of his running mate when speaking to the National Association of Black Journalists, had less to do with Trump’s thoughtful analysis of voters’ intentions during presidential elections and more to do with the fact that the twice-impeached and criminally convicted former president cannot abide sharing the limelight with anyone — not even where a supportive platitude would help their shared ticket and therefore his electoral chances.
Becoming more American than the Americans themselves
We'll call him Paul, because that’s not his real name—at least according to his Lyft profile. He picked me up on Main St. and 5th in downtown Los Angeles, just a few blocks from Skid Row. According to Wikipedia, this area hosts one of the largest stable populations of homeless people in the U.S., estimated at over 4,400. According to Paul, it also houses freshly-released prisoners in subsidised accommodation. You can tell the difference, he said—they look clean, unlike their dirt-encrusted neighbours. I had been waiting obliviously outside a shelter where many of them stayed, not very smart according to Paul, but I was okay since it was the start of the month. The ex-cons had just received their government allowance and were busy organising drugs or doing drugs, or both. But come evening, or especially weekends near the end of the month, and I wouldn’t want to be there.
Biden is no old Irish hero
Making Irish boring was a feature of the Irish educational system, rather than a bug. Learning Tóraíocht Dhiarmada agus Ghráinne (or Pursuit of Diarmaid and Gráinne), the epic retelling of a love triangle between the aging warrior Fionn mac Cumhaill, his loyal follower Diarmaid, and the beautiful and wily Gráinne, should have ensured rapt teenage attention with its tales of illicit sex and bloodthirsty feuds. Yet, I was bored senseless by the focus on grammar and pronunciation, with the wild language tamed into anaemic English approximations. I remembered thinking, as I stared out the window of Mrs. Mahon’s Irish class in Gortnor Abbey, why didn’t old Fionn just let the young lovers be? Why risk all your accomplishments in an obsessive pursuit of a young woman who found you too old and wanted a younger lover?
Underestimating Trump
Donald Trump is exceptional. Is there any other politician anywhere who would have had their wits about them to reflexively know to seize the iconic photo opportunity, seconds after a would-be-assassin shot his right ear? His stump speech on 13 July, at an election campaign rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, was cut short by loud cracks of gunfire and bright red blood splattering over his face and hands, as the former president dropped to the floor beside the podium. While his gaggle of secret service manhandled him back up and away, Trump seemed to instinctively know where the cameras were, clenching a victory fist to the sky towards his audience, before being quickly shuffled away to safety. With the American flag billowing over his head, he was reenacting Rocky or Rambo for generations who grew up in the certainty of American exceptionalism. More than anything this is what sets him apart from his peers. He innately understands how to garner publicity to his advantage. He always did.