It’s hard not to be a cynic

Yesterday I half listened to a smooth talking and, no doubt, generously remunerated HSE representative [yeah, thanks Mary Harney and B,B,Bertie for preserving the vast layers of middle management there] deftly defending the almost indefensible.

Last week, out of curiosity I attended, with a buddy who has, like many, has been through the wars, a sumptuous Chamber of Commerce breakfast briefing on the multiple sources of business finance available seemingly at the drop of a hat. I say sumptuous as it was held in Palmerstown house up the road here where the viceroy of India, Lord Mayo, once lived. There were lots of local TD’s, bank managers, accountants, solicitors, etc, in attendance, but very few actual business people around. You know, the actual ones who make things happen. As opposed to the patent window dressing PR exercise this was. My buddy was most unimpressed. He’d have been apoplectic if he wasn’t so depressed.

For example. there was one speaker representing a credit agency specifically set up by statute following the bust, whose raison d’être was to ensure the Banks continue to finance business in Ireland, especially since, after all, they had just been gifted billions of the publics money (or borrowings in our name) to allow them survive. A noble and necessary agency without doubt. You will have heard the radio ads an-infinitum – “and if we find in your favour we have the power to ask the bank to give you the money/ overdrafts/ lifeline … and if they continue to refuse (the dastardly rotters) we can make them tell us why”. So there. Hah. Total number of staff – 3. Including the speaker. Jesus wept. Meanwhile an already bloated and patently incompetent central bank has grown exponentially. There’s thousands of them. All ‘earning’ €100k plus. Apparently 2 or even 3 of them are studying forensic accounting and white collar fraud. Now they get to grace the the unfinished Anglo Irish HQ.

What’s this got to do with the landscaping world or indeed with me selling a bit of synthetic grass? Feck all really but I needed to get it off my chest. It’s cathartic. I try to be a tolerant man. But when the blatant fuckology effects one or ones family and friends its hard. Someone should ring Jooooooe Duffy about it all.

Oh, and one last item on my rant list apropos of some recent, annoying and pathetically blatant episode of let’s say industrial espionage. Hey pal, imitation is supposedly the sincerest form of flattery but really its just a lack of imagination. I’ve always welcomed competition and, patently, am an open book by and large. Life is too short to care about the copycats. They’ll never have my winning personality or indeed the quality of our team and service. Rant over.

As a friend of mine, Spike, used to say “nobody said life would be all roses”. He also used to say “fuck the begrudgers!”

What a marvellous, mild, colourful and bright Autumn we’re having. Okay the clocks are changing but we’ve had a good run at it. The winter’ll be shortener. The economy is growing 6% p.a. And we get the chance to create more gardens, more beauty, more order. The chance to make an honest living doing real work, leaving a legacy. Now that’s a noble pursuit. The cynics be dammed.

Slan
Mark

P.S. – blog password is “letmein” to keep others out 🙂

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