At Ireland's political HQs, blue-sky thinking is the norm, at least among poster designers. Smiling is optional, dusting off photographs from previous elections is
cost-efficient and the campaign universe still turns on one fundamental principle: the smaller the political party, the more eclectically awful the range of fonts.

With careful understatement, road safety officials have reminded candidates that mass postering can “have a negative visual impact” for both motorists and pedestrians, though frankly it is the eye-level views you get from the upper saloons of buses that are most alarming.

Blue skies are unnervingly ubiquitous in Dublin – almost as if all the main parties are essentially the same or something. Fianna Fáil and the Labour Party both use skies lightly dotted with clouds of the feathery cirrus variety, not the sort that will make cheery candidates look like they're laughing in the face of imminent rain. Mary Fitzpatrick's posters do flirt with genuine weather, with Fianna Fáil's MEP candidate pictured under a low-sky day on Dublin Bay. No amount of hairspray will make it anything less than a woeful idea to take a formal photograph somewhere with a reputation for being windy, so let's just hope for her sake that the backdrop was Photoshopped in.

Fine Gael superimposes its Dublin local-election candidates over an artificial 50-shades-of-blue backdrop, with what looks like an aeroplane sky trail streaking across it, just to taunt everybody who has not yet arranged to leave the country for the duration of the campaign.

The cumulative impact of election posters is depressing for all except the candidates themselves, cable-tie manufacturers and the residents of Tidy Town regular Clondalkin, who have asked politicians to comply with a ban on posters in the village. (Can we all do that?)

Anybody who does live in a rare poster- free pocket isn't missing out on much, except perhaps the amusement of stars emerging from Brian Hayes's head as if he is a concussed cartoon character. In Phibsborough in Dublin, his face appears next to ads for The Art of the Brick Lego exhibition, though any resemblance between the Fine Gael MEP candidate and a Lego man is entirely coincidental.

The most surprising revelation of this year's same-old election posters is that the Green Party still fancies its chances at winning stuff. It's just unfortunate that the "No 1" on some of its posters looks, from a distance, like a "-1", as if it is marking its recent electoral performance out of 10.

Socialist Party MEP Paul Murphy adds a polite "or highest possible preference" after his "Vote No 1" call-to-action, but less modest candidates favour the "I'm brilliant" approach. Fine Gael's Bill Tormey hails himself as "frank, fearless and forthright" – a list to which "fond of alliteration" could be added without spoiling the effect.

First-person language, though popular in the marketing of inanimate objects, is rarely used by Irish politicians on posters, which seems like a missed opportunity. And surely one of the younger faces must have been tempted to break with form and go for an ironic celebrity mugshot-style picture, or perhaps a selfie in front of Leinster House, just to make it doubly clear that their stint on the local council is a stepping stone to their real ambition.

Candidates who are not held back by the bland design formulas of the big party machines have a freedom that few know how to exploit. Dublin councillor Mannix Flynn, who uses hot pink and acid yellow- green in his colour scheme, is one obvious exception. For years, his posters have out-cooled every other candidate’s in the capital, being almost alone in their suggestion that the aesthetic appearance of the city would be safe in his hands.

There is an obvious reason, if not an excuse, for overly busy election posters. While the names of the big parties carry the weight of historical baggage in just two words, Independents and those affiliated with newer groupings will always be tempted to squeeze their political stance on to their posters, rather than keep it to the letter-box literature where it more readily belongs.

“Please don’t make up your mind on who to vote for by how they look. That’s just silly,” is the disclaimer on Tumblr account Irish Election Rides. The blog is proof that attractiveness is in the eye of the beholder, just like beautiful design. But let’s reserve the right to judge politicians on their postering. We still, after all, have three more weeks of this madness before the nation’s lamp posts can return to their blissfully unadorned state.