Connect: A photo of Charlie Haughey astride a horse outside the front door of his mansion was reproduced by most media outlets this week. Behind horse and rider, ivy sprouts from the house. It's clipped, almost manicured, not to hamper the front door's elaborate fanlight. Haughey has a riding crop in his hand, gleaming riding boots on his jodhpured legs and an unusually red face.
Despite the red face however, his expression is not one of embarrassment. It bespeaks instead a studied gravitas. To some people it's a picture of grandeur. To others it radiates hypocrisy. To yet others it has a comical, caricaturing quality. Why is a leader of Fianna Fáil acting like some ageing Anglo-Irish buck? Didn't the party determine to rid Ireland of such carry-on? There's an undeniable postcolonial quality to the photo. It's reminiscent of, for instance, African judges in extra-long horse-hair wigs and extravagant scarlet gowns. There's another photo of Haughey sitting in front of six dead ducks. It was taken only last year during a duck-shoot at his "estate". A mansion, an island, horses, ducks, hunting, shooting, yachting - strange stuff indeed.
Then there was his "patronage" of the arts. Some prospered under his tax-free legislation, some didn't and others - big-grossing, commercial types - abused it. It seemed like a Medici arrangement. Was it a serious attempt to foster Irish creativity or was it a ruse? Because of his love of extremely pricey meals and clothes, at taxpayers' expense, perhaps he should have been jailed.
Still, let us forego, at least for now, attempts at "balanced" assessments of Haughey's life and legacy. He was, after all, buried only yesterday and the custom of not speaking ill of the dead - especially the recently dead - is compassionate and wise. Whether it's wise to extend such compassion to Haughey is, of course, debatable. For now though, let's focus on the photos.
There's yet another one showing Haughey riding a horse. The backdrop is woodland. Again, he's wearing riding boots and jodhpurs. This time, however, the outfit includes a bowler hat. It's not the usual kind of hard hat that horse-people wear.
Instead, it's a bowler, albeit offering some protection. But bowler hats are English icons, worn by parading Orangemen in the North.
They're also associated with John Steed of Avengers fame, jazz musician Acker Bilk and comedians Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. Could Haughey, like the last duo, have been taking the mick? Might his political career not be considered an outrageous compendium of codology? Perhaps he became addicted to sending-up himself and his supporters. That's unlikely though.
Instead, he seems to have taken his mansion-living, island-owning, horse-riding, duck-shooting, yachting, hunting, arts-patronage, pricey meals and pricey clothes "lifestyle" very seriously. Strangely, for an arts patron, nothing in that list is creative. Everything is derived from aristocratic activities. Perhaps he believed aristos understood the best way to live. If so, that's sad, don't you think? It is, after all, so accepting of the poison of class. Really, it reflects badly on a leader of the self-proclaimed "republican party".
Perhaps more pertinently, it reflects badly on Haughey apologists. Sure, some people had reasons to support him - the North was probably the main one - as opposed to say, his consummate rival, Garret FitzGerald, but self-respect had to be compromised.
Since he died on Tuesday, he has dominated the media. Is anybody else tired of it all? In mentioning it, this column is, of course, contributing to it and thereby arguably adding to the hypocrisy. Still, like homoeopathy - treating like with like - perhaps a tiny dose of poison will help to dispel the glut of eulogising guff - though there have been excellent contributions too - since Haughey's death.
One aspect of the coverage, not yet commented upon, is that it has allowed people over, say, 50 to exclude the young tigers of today. Below that age, few remember the Arms Trial of 1970. Most commentators have written or talked about meeting Haughey. It's as though anecdotes have a revealing capacity beyond other types of accounts and fair enough, some are interesting.
Nonetheless, they are eerily reminiscent of the sort of accounts given by normally sober British people when they meet, for instance, the Queen of England. In fairness, they're not as utterly self-disrespecting as accounts that reduce usually sober people to twits: "Oh, she was lovely and she said 'Hello' to me." (Well, bully for you.) But some have been little better.
It may be that in appealing to Irish people as a poor-boy-become-powerful that Haughey exacted a vicarious revenge on our former colonists. If so, however, it doesn't say a great deal for his more trenchant supporters. It's true that he espoused the latent republicanism of Irish citizens but surely he betrayed us all too by aping the behaviour of the boss class of our former colonists.
Anyway, in time, his life and legacy will, no doubt, be evaluated. Like most other controversial figures, he'll be vilified and praised as fashions ebb and flow. It's possible - and right too - to detect the ebbing already.