Kilian Doyle is not convinced about Transport 21.
(Cynic: Someone who believes all people are motivated by selfishness. One whose outlook is habitually scornful or negative. Example: "That Doyle fella is an awful cynic, isn't he? Never a good word to say about anyone but himself. And even then he's not so sure.")
To the matter at hand, namely the Government's €34.4 billion plan to buy the next election. For that is what it is. I mean, what do they think we are?
(Gullible: Naïve, easily deceived and tricked.)
I suppose I should really have a stab at picking through the details of Transport 21 and weighing them up. But I shan't. Not because I'm lazy or ill informed, of course. But because there aren't any. I would, however, like to know who came up with the name. It sounds ominously Stalinist, like a government department in George Orwell's 1984. Not exactly inspiring, is it?
One thing did strike me about the launch in Dublin Castle last week - while the Minister was up there basking in the limelight, did it not occur to anyone in the audience, including the massed ranks of PR bods and consultants upon whom millions of our euro have been lavished, that sending this particular minister, of all people, to announce the news would instantly make 96 per cent of the electorate dismiss it? A cavity brick could have worked that one out.
But enough about Mr Cullen. Much as he'd like us to think it isn't, this project is bigger than him. (No laughing down the back, please.)
And what an ambitious project it is, comprising around 40 different elements designed to join together to create an integrated transport network that will be the envy of the rest of the world when it's finished. Laudable stuff.
Soon we'll all be living in a transport Utopia, whizzing around from one end of the country to the other to our hearts' content, incredulous that such archaic inconveniences as traffic jams, crowded buses, delayed trains and generally being marooned by a sub-standard public transport system ever blighted our green and pleasant land. It'll be marvellous, won't it?
(Sarcasm: A cutting, ironic remark often intended to wound. The lowest form of wit. See above example.)
Don't get me wrong - I'm not a "whinger and begrudger" just for the sake of it, as the Taoiseach, with characteristic panache, described anyone expressing doubts about the plan. I'd like nothing better than to see them pull it off, on time and on budget.
But can they? It may come as some surprise to you, but I have my doubts.
(Sceptic: One who instinctively or habitually doubts, questions, or disagrees with assertions or conclusions.)
Given their track record, who can blame me? The whole plan is liable to collapse like a house of cards around our ears, leaving us with nothing but endless High Court actions. Not to mention the gaping holes where Metros should have been.
Not only that, but there is about as much chance of them keeping the costs from spiralling out of control as there is of Saddam Hussein being released from custody to set up a beauty salon in Tullamore.
And that's the nub of my fury. It all comes down to money. And the waste thereof. It's our money after all, no matter how many times they try to tell us how generous they are being in "granting" money for Government projects. If it was their own money from their own pockets, perhaps I'd begrudgingly offer my thanks. But it's not and I won't.
(Outrage: A feeling of righteous anger.)
Anyway, time will tell. The true judges of Transport 21 will be the voters in the next election. And who knows what they will do?
(Depose: To remove from office or power.)