These are the Dog Days. Nothing to do with actual canines, crazy or lazy: the name derives from Sirius, the Dog Star, which appears in the skies in late July. Traditionally, the Dog Days were characterised by sultry weather, the kind that might make you want to snooze in the afternoon and squabble in the night. They were also thought to mark a time when bad things could happen and people could be subject to fevers, hysterics and frenzies.

The Dog Days coincide with what old press hounds called the Silly Season. This was when nothing much was happening in politics or society and trivia assumed a far greater level of importance than should ever be the case.
Looking at the fevers and frenzies with which we are bombarded, you can safely say that little has changed. Well, apart from the weather, that is. Regrettably, we no longer seem to get sultry weather in Ireland. But you know what I mean.
The public dismantling of David Norris’s presidential bid fits the pattern perfectly. Sure, the letter at the heart of the hue and cry was a grave mistake and probably would have derailed his bid in any event – but the hysteria that swept through the media and the web was appalling, all the more so given that the world’s economic system is teetering on the brink.

The notion that there’s a great hankering after someone not associated with a political party is generating a strange momentum. The meeja (taken as an admittedly peculiar whole) seem determined to identify a people’s candidate. Hence the post-Norris Gadarene rush to anoint Gay Byrne, another daftness to overlay on all the others. Okay, we can joke about one gay out, another Gay in, ha-ha – but beyond that?
Equally daft is the willingness to see Dana Rosemary Scallon as an alternative independent candidate… as though she might in some way appeal to the same constituency as Norris. I mean, really!
That is not to say that neither could run. One of them might even win. But whether that would make for a good presidency is an entirely different matter. I, for one, can’t see it.

I suppose the Dog Days throw things into stark relief. The general ignorance of what the President actually does is matched only by the meeja’s rather Protestant zeal to ensure personal probity amongst candidates. Everything is grist to the mill. Someone, somewhere even believes that Dominique Strauss-Kahn’s prolific pecker is an issue...
In fact, DSK’s largely self-induced travails themselves raise an important question. If you look beyond the fella’s personal issues, there’s universal agreement that he’s as close to political genius as makes no difference and that, had he been free to act, he almost certainly would have found ways to resolve the financial madness to which we’ve all been subjected in recent months.
This begs a question: do you choose for effectiveness or (alleged) personal morality?
Well, if the hysterics took time to look at what the President of Ireland is supposed to do – according to the Constitution – the tenor of debate might be cooler and more rational.

Yes, of course, the President is very important and can make a profound impact in certain situations, as Mary Robinson and Mary McAleese both have done. But the President doesn’t shape economic policy. Voting for this one or that one won’t make a blind bit of difference to resolving the banking crisis. Nor does the President have any role in the HSE, the Government’s austerity programme, the work/welfare issue, the square ball rule, the weather or rising oil prices. The President isn’t Hugger-in-Chief. Neither is s/he an entertainer or cheerleader. There’s no need for the ‘X factor’.
In truth, I’d be tempted to look for a complete alternative – not a worthy elder like Gaybo but a real alternative. Someone like Jón Gnarr of Iceland’s Best Party and currently mayor of Reykjavík. He’s a comedian and eighteen months ago he led a band of merry punk pranksters to control of city hall.
They call themselves anarcho-surrealists and their aim is to transform politics. The party’s first pledge was to break all its promises, which made it pretty hard to attack. Then it promised a polar bear to the zoo and a drug-free parliament within 10 years. Their ten-point plan had 13 points.
Gnarr and others within the group have musical form. Reykjavík’s current head of culture is Einar Örn Benediktsson who once sang in the Sugarcubes, alongside Björk. Gnarr was an early school leaver and troubled adolescent – he was a heavy glue sniffer and was sent to a special boarding school. This autumn he plans to paint his nails, wear lipstick and campaign for great apes to be given human rights…
You get the picture.

Of course, it may just be that we’re all very Sirius in the Dog Days. Or else it’s just boredom. But right now I like the idea of a bit of anarchy to shake things up. And to those who say such punk frivolity is a distraction, I can only respond that my Icelandic friends are pretty enthusiastic about the Best Party. Strange as it might seem, in power, these ex-punks and anarchists have proven to be pretty good politicians while also faithful to their manifesto.
I can’t find an English language website for the Best Party but do your own search. If nothing else, you’ll be amused by what you find.

And you might start thinking differently about the Presidency too...