SOMETIMES EVEN THE slow collapse of civilisation can be overshadowed by some good old fashioned showbiz news, and what a relief it was for us all this week when the Gallagher brothers proved that old enmities can indeed be put aside in the name of love, family, music, and what is sure to be a payday the likes of which you and I would not even dare fathom.

Naturally the long-awaited, long-prayed-upon return of such an enormous cultural force has been met with the requisite amount of discourse over whether Oasis were ever really that good (they were), whether Noel and Liam are really that irritating (they are), and whether or not the government is going to stop hotels from price-gouging (let’s face it, probably not). 

Still, you have to be a bit of a contrarian not to like the music of Oasis, and it would take a Herculean level of begrudgery to deny this moment to all of the das out there who thought they’d never again have the chance to get their old cagoule out from the back of their wardrobe. All of this is assuming that the brothers – whose relationship for the last 15 years has consisted almost exclusively of hurling Northern English insults like ‘knobhead’ at each other on Twitter and in print media – can keep things on an even keel for the next 12 months.

Somewhat ironically, the return of Oasis coincided with media reports that the UK government is considering plans to ban smoking in beer gardens and outside football stadiums. This is ironic since Oasis is pretty much the most ‘smoking in a beer garden or outside a football stadium’ band to have ever existed, narrowly beating out Kasabian. 55% of The Journal readers have said they do not think such a measure should be introduced here. 

It’s a knotty issue that once again calls into question the balance between public health and personal freedom, with no course of action standing out as an unambiguous best case scenario. While I don’t much care for second-hand smoke, either the smell or disease it confers, I am conscious that once smoking is consigned to the literal ash heap of history, the powers that be will be coming for full-fat fizzy drinks. The sugar tax has already whittled down our numbers and one fears that a concerted push from the government could be all that is needed to take the good stuff out of supermarket fridges forever. Is this paranoid fear-mongering on the part of the author? Perhaps, but isn’t that what a weekly column is all about?

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Speaking of Ireland’s political future, it’s worth checking in with what our various parties are up to during the Dáil summer recess.

The general election has been looming so long that one wonders if we’ll all have lost interest by the time it actually gets here. Fianna Fáil are doing their bit to keep the masses entertained by hoovering up celebrity candidates for Dáil Éireann, including TV presenter and Irish language activist Gráinne Seoige – who will run in Galway West – as well as television journalist Alison Comyn, who will run in her native Louth.

The evidence we have so far is that such a plan could well pay off. It has already worked for Fianna Fáil, who got former RTÉ presenter Cynthia Ní Mhurchú elected in this year’s European elections. Fine Gael doubled their number of celebrity MEPs at the most recent time of asking, with Maria Walsh joined in Brussels by Nina Carberry – a jockey with no political experience who was criticised from some quarters for a perceived lack of campaigning and community engagement ahead of her ascension to Europe.

Former RTÉ presenter Ciarán Mullooly did the job for Independent Ireland, getting elected to the European Parliament despite a lack of political background, while shock jock Niall Boylan only narrowly missed out on a seat in the Dublin constituency. 

Much in the same way that shoppers browsing the shelves at the supermarket are more likely to pick up the product that they’ve heard of before, there is evidently some advantage for electoral candidates in carrying a cache of name recognition – particularly if that recognition comes from literally anything besides politics. 

If only there were enough champion horse-riders to go around, we could do away with the party logos on ballots altogether and replace them with those mock-ups of whatever fetching little jockey outfits each candidate is wearing, like they do on the betting page of the sports pages. Think of it! Simon Harris in orange and purple stripes, Mary Lou in burgundy sleeves, Michael Healy-Rae wearing the same cap he already wears anyway. Oh, we’d be the envy of every democracy in the world. All of the democracies that are governed by horses, anyways. 

Leaving the jockeys to one side for a moment, it is perhaps cause for discomfiture that the pipeline from press corps to politics is so well-lubricated. For decades, it has been par for the course that Ireland’s political correspondents eventually take jobs as advisors to ministers, but the trend of media figures running for office themselves appears to be intensifying. It seems naively utopian in this day and age to think that the fourth estate should remain separate from the political sphere, but even the cynics among us must surely be raising their eyebrows at how blurred the barrier seems to have become. 

This is not to say that the celebs (let’s be honest here, most of these people are quasi-celebrities) aren’t competent operators who will slot into the party machinery just fine. It is simply to note the changing complexion of Irish electoral politics, a landscape in which a history of funeral attendance and pothole-fillery is perhaps becoming less important than star power.

This strategy is not guaranteed to work, of course. Fianna Fáil moved quickly to snap up Caio Benicio, one of the heroes who took down the Parnell Street attacker last November, only for Benicio to get nowhere near Dublin City Council in the this summer’s local elections. 

No matter what happens at the next general election, an overhaul of Dáil Éireann is pretty much inevitable. Even if Fine Gael hang on to the number of seats they have, or increase them, they’ll still be without almost half of the TDs who have made up their Dáil presence since the 2020 election. Many of Ireland’s most well-known political figures are receding from the limelight, while a new generation come to the fore – even if they are just swapping one side of the RTÉ panel for the other. Whether it yields dividends for the people of Ireland remains to be seen.

And besides, maybe if I grow the readership of this column by just a little bit, Fianna Fáil will pick me to run for Dáil Éireann.