Drapier / An insider's guide to politics: The political fallout from the Nally affair is fascinating to behold. At first, it was manna from heaven for Fine Gael.
As a general rule, the Blueshirts aren't very good at populism. They're just a bit too shrill, too self-righteous to carry it off well.
But they really come into their own when it comes to crim-bashing and defending the rights of landowners. And if the crim in question happens to be a Traveller, then it's a no-brainer.
Jim Higgins was quick to announce that he supported those who were looking to organise the demo in Athlone.
Not to be outdone by his constituency colleague, Enda wrote a piece in a "red top" saying he would amend the law to rebalance the rights of landowners and thieves. The piece was poorly argued, but nonetheless it worked well for Enda.
Then the wheels came off the wagon. Paul Kehoe from Wexford got carried away and announced that Nally was right in what he did and that he, Kehoe, would do the same himself. No doubt, Kehoe's comments played well with your stereotypical FG voter, the gentleman farmer who shoots a grouse one day and a Traveller the next and sees little moral difference, but his comments were just a little too much for Enda.
Enda, after all, has to keep a watchful eye on Labour and the Greens, many of whose people wouldn't know one end of a shotgun from the other.
After due consideration Enda issued one of those perfunctory condemnations that the Shinners have patented in recent years, and so the matter rests.
That's the trouble with populism. Some clown always gets carried away.
The exhumation of The Big Beasts continues apace in Fine Gael. First out of the political grave was Charlie Flanagan. The fine delights of conveyancing are clearly waning for Charlie.
He turned up at an FG bash in the midlands a few weeks back and was then photographed with Enda unveiling a bust of his late da.
Charlie's task? Simple really, to free the people from that PD interloper who not only took one of the Blueshirt seats at the last election, but then went on to re-brand the royal counties under his own name.
Next up, Alan Shatter. Drapier prefers his colleagues a little less clever and a lot more modest and, as a result, he has never quite warmed to Alan.
That said, there's no accounting for the taste of the patricians in Dublin South, and it would come as little surprise if Alan were to get the chance to spend some of his spare time among us stupid people after the next election.
Then, Frances Fitzgerald. Let it be said: Frances has class. She's essentially a more caring version of Liz O'Donnell. Not that Liz doesn't care about the poor, the homeless and the like: it's just not very chic in PD circles to admit to such weak thoughts.
Frances, on the other hand, is a product of the Garret factory and she does the noblesse oblige gig with dulcet panache. None of which will make it any the easier to get a nomination.
Drapier hears on the grapevine that the Blueshirts are mad keen to tempt Seán Barrett back into the fray and, who knows, maybe even Nora Owen might give it a go. Was it not she who surfaced on a midnight chat show during the week? It's all shaping up for a grand old reunion.
Drapier suspects that Bertie's patience with Ivor Callely might be wearing a little thin.
Not even Ivor's greatest fans would claim he is the brightest star in the galaxy, but most of us would have thought he was able to keep himself out of trouble. Not so, apparently.
Ivor's problem is that he has serious notions about his own importance. He behaves with all the taste and subtlety of a guy who is president for life of an African republic, rather than someone who has a comfy, but temporary, little sinecure in Clare Street.
Needless to say, Bertie doesn't care very much about Ivor or any of the other junior ministers. As long as they don't become a serious embarrassment.
One of the most striking aspects of the peace process in the last few years is the dogged way the Shinners have gone about looking after their own.
Bertie and Pat Rabbitte had a brief exchange about "on-the-runs" in the Dáil on Wednesday morning. The exchange was cordial enough, but Drapier sensed a serious unease among colleagues as they finally grasped what we are about to do.
The legislation to allow for the early release of prisoners went through the Dáil on the nod a few years back. There was no vote, but it is no secret that there were many members on all sides who swallowed very hard that day. But if the early-
release scheme was difficult to swallow, then the OTR scheme is a lot worse.
Guys who committed awful crimes are to be given a pardon on a case-by-case basis. Drapier didn't like the early-release stuff, but at least the victims or their families had the satisfaction of knowing that someone had been found guilty of a crime in court.
By granting a pardon to someone who has never been convicted, surely the State is condoning the crime that was done? It would be utterly bizarre if we did finally find out who planted the bombs in Dublin and Monaghan only to hand them a pardon to comfort them in their old age.
Surely there has to be a better way?