Deasrargle
16-06-2008, 00:43
Dáil Kaitan-Leagrann/Chamber of Representatives of Kaitan-Leagran
Sunday 15th June 2008. 02:55am
‘You only really get to know a place after you’ve been forced to spend 18 hours in it’, thought Gearoid Stiobhard to himself as he sleepily surveyed the Dáil chamber, ‘Better to have swapped places with the Other Place before the elections.’
It was not there was anything wrong with the chamber itself, arranged in the Westminster system with long, yellow-coloured leather benches facing each other across a narrow aisle, but rather that it promoted the style of adversarial debate, political duelling if you will, that stood it stark contrast to the consociationalist nature of Kaitan-Leagrian politics. After all, how could one have a government and an opposition when the consent of all was required for the passage of legislation?
“And furthermore,” droned the voice of Fotis Anastos, the Teachta Dála for Dundonagh, “it is not something that I think can be rushed, for on this decision lies the very future of not only this political enterprise but also of this nation…”
“Rushed? RUSHED?” whispered Mac Liam into the First Minister’s ear, “How the feck does he think that eighteen and a half feckin’ hours is rushed?”
Stiobhard said nothing, but silently prayed to all that was Holy that Anastos would either stop talking or be somehow struck with instant laryngitis and forced to immediate retire to his home to recuperate over the course of six months. But God must have been looking away that night, or else He decided that suffering really was good for the soul, for Anastos rambled on for another forty minutes before finally finishing his atrocious speech. It was now or never.
“Mister Speaker,” said Stiobhard, rising to his feet in what he had hoped to be a distinguished and statesmanlike way but was more likely an undignified lurch caused by his left leg having gone to sleep, “I move that the bill be put before a vote.”
The Speaker, who had long since fallen asleep, was quickly poked awake by a nearby clerk and was most acquiescent upon considering the time. The Dáil duly divided and the Teachtai Dála duly shuffled into the respective lobbies. It would be a full half hour before the votes of the 615 deputies were counted and analysed in accordance with the consociationalist procedures. It was not with undue hesitation, therefore, that Stoibhard, Mac Liam and Polyxena took a collective breath as the Speaker hauled himself to his feet.
“For the Greek-speaking community, Ayes to the right 114, Noes to the left 74. The Ayes have it. For the Gaelic-speaking community, Ayes to the right 103, Noes to the left 98. The Ayes have it…”
“Shit,” muttered Mac Liam, “I thought it would be close but not that close.”
“The Deasrarglann Esperanto-speaking community, Ayes to the right 128, Noes to the left 81. The Ayes have it. I duly declared the Bill passed.”
Despite the closeness of the vote, despite the arm-twisting and promises of new hospital to recalcitrant deputies, the bill had passed. The chamber erupted into a cacophony of joyous noise. Men flung themselves from every direction to shake the hands of the three party leaders. Within the hour news emerged from the Other Place, the Budget had passed the Teach na dTiarnai as well. Across the capital could be heard the sound of a thousand bottle of champagne explode at once. This was not just momentous, this was history pure and simple and as the sun rose over the mountains in the east, many knew Freetown, and the whole island, were experiencing a new dawn.
Dáil Kaitan-Leagrann Smoking Room, Monday 16th June 2008. 10:30
The Smoking Room still smelt of stale cigarettes and sweat as the members of the international press filed in for the Press Conference. Grand though the Palace of the Oireachtas was, it had been designed during a time when the business of state took place behind closed doors. Should an announcement be made to the people, thought the architects, it should be made outside lest the presence of mere voters disrupt the intricate workings of state. And maybe the press conference would have taken place on the grand steps to the main entrance of the Palace had the wind not been as ferocious. As it was, a compromise was required and those Teachta Dála who had yet to vacate the building and still desired a cigarette were unceremoniously dumped outside. They were not alone in their tobacco-related exile, however, for the chairs and tables that populated their nicotine haven had to be placed somewhere and where better than the Teach na dTiarnai Smoking Room.
At eleven o’ clock precisely the First Minister arrived. That he has not slept in twenty-four hours was not apparent to those assembled for the press conference, for Stoibhard had taken the liberty of taking a small quantity of amphetamines, better known as ‘speed’ in order to aid him through the next few hours. He stood at a simple wooden podium upon which had been engraved the newly revealed coat of arms of the Bailiwick.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the First Minister, “I’d like to thank you for coming here at short notice. For those of you from the Kaitan-Leagrian media, I am sure you know perfectly well why you have been asked here. For our friends in the international press, the reason will become perfectly clear soon enough.
Though I do indeed have an important announcement to make, I would also like to take this opportunity to dispel some of the myths and fabrications that have grown up around Kaitan-Leagran since her foundation. Allow me, as the saying goes, to set the record straight.
Firstly, I feel as though I must take issue with the continuing notion that the Government of Kaitan-Leagran funds church schools, which, in turn, serve only to fuel the sectarian, divides. This simply is not the case. We are committed to the foundation of a secular schooling system for all citizens of the Bailiwick and an intensive program of school building is currently taking place. Those church schools that do exist do not receive any state-funding and are supported wholly by the individual denominations. That said, we are also committed to the freedom of choice for parents on where to educate their children and would not be so crass as to inhibit people’s freedoms when they have only so recently acquired them.
It is true that church schools provide at least 85% of primary and secondary education in this country and do an excellent job in equipping young people with the right skills they require to make full use of the freedoms democracy has provided. I would also add that, despite what some foreign media portray, these schools are not Christian madrassas, pumping extremists into the world to perpetuate the civil war, but are places that play a vital role in our educational system and have done for the last forty years. Our role is not to force out these institutions but to supplement them with state-run facilities in order that local parents may choose the right local school for their children.
My second point is to challenge the perception in some quarters that the Bailiwick is an exclusively Protestant country or that it exists for the benefit of Protestants. Though incorrect, I would concede that we in the political establishment have not done enough to address the source of these errors. The constitution provided to us from the Provisional Government contained within it a number of points that helped only to perpetuate the notion that this was a Protestant-only nation. Perhaps most obvious is the name, the Protestant Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran. A leftover from Fitzjohns’ coup, it remained in the wording of the Constitution more out of carelessness than a desire to express a political statement. So to the flag, in which the solid orange represented the Protestant majority and the white all those who were left. Needless to say, it does not take a mathematician to work out that the majority of the citizenry of the island are not Protestants. These are issues that we, unfortunately, ignored. We believed that the people would not mind the exact wording of the constitution so long as they were offered the chance to participate in democracy. This, I now accept, was wrong. Voting is not enough; people must feel a sense of belonging to that which they are voting for, and having the constitution and flag proclaim supposed support for a minority does not aid this.
This is why, upon consultation with the deputy first ministers and their respective parties, it was decided that necessary reforms be annexed to the Finance Bill, which was passed last night. Firstly, it removes the ‘Protestant’ prefix from the name of our nation. Henceforth, we are simply ‘The Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran’, a free and secular society that does not give preference to any one Church or Creed. Secondly, we have taken the liberty of redesigning the national flag in order to better represent the nation. Though it still possesses a cross, for while we are secular we still recognise that Christianity (in all its forms) is the bedrock of our society, the orange has been removed and replaced with sepia, representing the land upon which we live. The white strip now represents the non-Christian minority, whose indelible rights are forever secure in our nation. It is my hope that these acts satisfy those Kaitan-Leagrians who did not feel at ease with their national institutions that there is no ‘Protestant Ascendancy’. This is your country as much as it is your fellow man’s.
Finally, it is my great pleasure to announce that the Finance Bill also possessed another annexation of, perhaps, even greater importance than the one that I have just outlined. Following its ratification by the Oireachtas last night, the Finance Bill allows me to formally invite the Baroness of Euphosor, Lady Sahana Saandeep, to become the first Bailiff of the Kaitan-Leagrians. Her ladyship’s well-renown philanthropy and interest in social needs makes her an ideal candidate and I would be delighted if she were to attend Freetown at her earliest convenience. These two measures, the constitutional amendments and the selection of the Bailiff, must be put before the public in a free and fair plebiscite and this shall be done within the next week. In order not to prejudice the vote, these will plebiscites will be held separately, though it is my sincerest wish that the people endorse these.
I apologise for making so long a statement, though I would like to finally add that, upon the hopeful ascension of Lady Saandeep to the throne, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, my friend and colleague Ms. Dareia Kaya, will be making a tour of the Western Atlantic in order that we may show our support for better relations with our neighbours and a peaceful and prosperous region.
Are there any questions?”
Sunday 15th June 2008. 02:55am
‘You only really get to know a place after you’ve been forced to spend 18 hours in it’, thought Gearoid Stiobhard to himself as he sleepily surveyed the Dáil chamber, ‘Better to have swapped places with the Other Place before the elections.’
It was not there was anything wrong with the chamber itself, arranged in the Westminster system with long, yellow-coloured leather benches facing each other across a narrow aisle, but rather that it promoted the style of adversarial debate, political duelling if you will, that stood it stark contrast to the consociationalist nature of Kaitan-Leagrian politics. After all, how could one have a government and an opposition when the consent of all was required for the passage of legislation?
“And furthermore,” droned the voice of Fotis Anastos, the Teachta Dála for Dundonagh, “it is not something that I think can be rushed, for on this decision lies the very future of not only this political enterprise but also of this nation…”
“Rushed? RUSHED?” whispered Mac Liam into the First Minister’s ear, “How the feck does he think that eighteen and a half feckin’ hours is rushed?”
Stiobhard said nothing, but silently prayed to all that was Holy that Anastos would either stop talking or be somehow struck with instant laryngitis and forced to immediate retire to his home to recuperate over the course of six months. But God must have been looking away that night, or else He decided that suffering really was good for the soul, for Anastos rambled on for another forty minutes before finally finishing his atrocious speech. It was now or never.
“Mister Speaker,” said Stiobhard, rising to his feet in what he had hoped to be a distinguished and statesmanlike way but was more likely an undignified lurch caused by his left leg having gone to sleep, “I move that the bill be put before a vote.”
The Speaker, who had long since fallen asleep, was quickly poked awake by a nearby clerk and was most acquiescent upon considering the time. The Dáil duly divided and the Teachtai Dála duly shuffled into the respective lobbies. It would be a full half hour before the votes of the 615 deputies were counted and analysed in accordance with the consociationalist procedures. It was not with undue hesitation, therefore, that Stoibhard, Mac Liam and Polyxena took a collective breath as the Speaker hauled himself to his feet.
“For the Greek-speaking community, Ayes to the right 114, Noes to the left 74. The Ayes have it. For the Gaelic-speaking community, Ayes to the right 103, Noes to the left 98. The Ayes have it…”
“Shit,” muttered Mac Liam, “I thought it would be close but not that close.”
“The Deasrarglann Esperanto-speaking community, Ayes to the right 128, Noes to the left 81. The Ayes have it. I duly declared the Bill passed.”
Despite the closeness of the vote, despite the arm-twisting and promises of new hospital to recalcitrant deputies, the bill had passed. The chamber erupted into a cacophony of joyous noise. Men flung themselves from every direction to shake the hands of the three party leaders. Within the hour news emerged from the Other Place, the Budget had passed the Teach na dTiarnai as well. Across the capital could be heard the sound of a thousand bottle of champagne explode at once. This was not just momentous, this was history pure and simple and as the sun rose over the mountains in the east, many knew Freetown, and the whole island, were experiencing a new dawn.
Dáil Kaitan-Leagrann Smoking Room, Monday 16th June 2008. 10:30
The Smoking Room still smelt of stale cigarettes and sweat as the members of the international press filed in for the Press Conference. Grand though the Palace of the Oireachtas was, it had been designed during a time when the business of state took place behind closed doors. Should an announcement be made to the people, thought the architects, it should be made outside lest the presence of mere voters disrupt the intricate workings of state. And maybe the press conference would have taken place on the grand steps to the main entrance of the Palace had the wind not been as ferocious. As it was, a compromise was required and those Teachta Dála who had yet to vacate the building and still desired a cigarette were unceremoniously dumped outside. They were not alone in their tobacco-related exile, however, for the chairs and tables that populated their nicotine haven had to be placed somewhere and where better than the Teach na dTiarnai Smoking Room.
At eleven o’ clock precisely the First Minister arrived. That he has not slept in twenty-four hours was not apparent to those assembled for the press conference, for Stoibhard had taken the liberty of taking a small quantity of amphetamines, better known as ‘speed’ in order to aid him through the next few hours. He stood at a simple wooden podium upon which had been engraved the newly revealed coat of arms of the Bailiwick.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the First Minister, “I’d like to thank you for coming here at short notice. For those of you from the Kaitan-Leagrian media, I am sure you know perfectly well why you have been asked here. For our friends in the international press, the reason will become perfectly clear soon enough.
Though I do indeed have an important announcement to make, I would also like to take this opportunity to dispel some of the myths and fabrications that have grown up around Kaitan-Leagran since her foundation. Allow me, as the saying goes, to set the record straight.
Firstly, I feel as though I must take issue with the continuing notion that the Government of Kaitan-Leagran funds church schools, which, in turn, serve only to fuel the sectarian, divides. This simply is not the case. We are committed to the foundation of a secular schooling system for all citizens of the Bailiwick and an intensive program of school building is currently taking place. Those church schools that do exist do not receive any state-funding and are supported wholly by the individual denominations. That said, we are also committed to the freedom of choice for parents on where to educate their children and would not be so crass as to inhibit people’s freedoms when they have only so recently acquired them.
It is true that church schools provide at least 85% of primary and secondary education in this country and do an excellent job in equipping young people with the right skills they require to make full use of the freedoms democracy has provided. I would also add that, despite what some foreign media portray, these schools are not Christian madrassas, pumping extremists into the world to perpetuate the civil war, but are places that play a vital role in our educational system and have done for the last forty years. Our role is not to force out these institutions but to supplement them with state-run facilities in order that local parents may choose the right local school for their children.
My second point is to challenge the perception in some quarters that the Bailiwick is an exclusively Protestant country or that it exists for the benefit of Protestants. Though incorrect, I would concede that we in the political establishment have not done enough to address the source of these errors. The constitution provided to us from the Provisional Government contained within it a number of points that helped only to perpetuate the notion that this was a Protestant-only nation. Perhaps most obvious is the name, the Protestant Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran. A leftover from Fitzjohns’ coup, it remained in the wording of the Constitution more out of carelessness than a desire to express a political statement. So to the flag, in which the solid orange represented the Protestant majority and the white all those who were left. Needless to say, it does not take a mathematician to work out that the majority of the citizenry of the island are not Protestants. These are issues that we, unfortunately, ignored. We believed that the people would not mind the exact wording of the constitution so long as they were offered the chance to participate in democracy. This, I now accept, was wrong. Voting is not enough; people must feel a sense of belonging to that which they are voting for, and having the constitution and flag proclaim supposed support for a minority does not aid this.
This is why, upon consultation with the deputy first ministers and their respective parties, it was decided that necessary reforms be annexed to the Finance Bill, which was passed last night. Firstly, it removes the ‘Protestant’ prefix from the name of our nation. Henceforth, we are simply ‘The Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran’, a free and secular society that does not give preference to any one Church or Creed. Secondly, we have taken the liberty of redesigning the national flag in order to better represent the nation. Though it still possesses a cross, for while we are secular we still recognise that Christianity (in all its forms) is the bedrock of our society, the orange has been removed and replaced with sepia, representing the land upon which we live. The white strip now represents the non-Christian minority, whose indelible rights are forever secure in our nation. It is my hope that these acts satisfy those Kaitan-Leagrians who did not feel at ease with their national institutions that there is no ‘Protestant Ascendancy’. This is your country as much as it is your fellow man’s.
Finally, it is my great pleasure to announce that the Finance Bill also possessed another annexation of, perhaps, even greater importance than the one that I have just outlined. Following its ratification by the Oireachtas last night, the Finance Bill allows me to formally invite the Baroness of Euphosor, Lady Sahana Saandeep, to become the first Bailiff of the Kaitan-Leagrians. Her ladyship’s well-renown philanthropy and interest in social needs makes her an ideal candidate and I would be delighted if she were to attend Freetown at her earliest convenience. These two measures, the constitutional amendments and the selection of the Bailiff, must be put before the public in a free and fair plebiscite and this shall be done within the next week. In order not to prejudice the vote, these will plebiscites will be held separately, though it is my sincerest wish that the people endorse these.
I apologise for making so long a statement, though I would like to finally add that, upon the hopeful ascension of Lady Saandeep to the throne, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, my friend and colleague Ms. Dareia Kaya, will be making a tour of the Western Atlantic in order that we may show our support for better relations with our neighbours and a peaceful and prosperous region.
Are there any questions?”