There's nothing worse than a reformed Rottweiler

Two new poster campaigns, one policy launch, a Minister flashing his billions.

And they're off! "I don't like attack dog politics," says Tánaiste McDowell prissily, baring a benign fang.

There's nothing worse than a reformed Rottweiler.

"We will campaign in a tough, but professional fashion," says Enda Kenny, sporting a frizzy hairdo and enough foundation to see Twink through the panto season.

The Greens convene in Buswells Hotel and unveil D'Untouchables. Should Trevor and the gang make it into government, a special agency will be established to deal with organised crime.

Then Minister for Transport Martin Cullen ambles over to Government Buildings and rolls out miles and miles of new roads. A billion and a half worth of fresh tarmac steamrolls a few billboards and a policy document. It's too easy. Ignore the show-off.

Busy day yesterday around Leinster House. It began in the morning with the Green Party talking about crime and justice. No gimmicks, although a promise that citizens will be able to e-mail their reports of crime to the technologically-challenged Garda Síochána could be construed as an attempt at levity.

An invitation from Fine Gael to attend the midday launch of their latest campaign poster couldn't be ignored. The party can't seem to do anything right in these crucial early days of election 2007.

Even this minor event caused a flap. It had been billed as the start of a negative campaigning strategy. A scary photograph of a demented-looking Michael McDowell was to be accompanied by the ironic slogan: "Everything is just great!"

But at the last minute, Fine Gael dropped the idea. So while party handlers wanted to concentrate on the message yesterday, reporters wanted to know why they ditched their poster bogey boy.

"We had to make a call on the particular type of billboard last week, and I made that decision," said Enda Kenny manfully. "The facts on the poster are more important than the Minister's face." Now, instead of walking past a leering McDowell, voters will have to work out the meaning of a man pasting a picture of a tropical beach over a list of Fianna Fáil failures.

Enda Kenny is confident that people will understand the irony when presented with a happy slogan, a happy scene and the words "Fianna Fáil".

Enda, and his newly-teased hair, said his party is above negative campaigning. "We will never descend to the depths that Tánaiste McDowell descended when he called my friend Richard Bruton here - an honest and decent politician - when he compared him to Joseph Goebbels of the Nazi party." Richard looked suitably angelic.

While a shuddering Enda recalled that awful moment, an actor wearing disposable overalls with an FF/PD logo on the back clung to the sloping billboard behind him. He held a sponge roller on a long extension pole, mimicking the pose of the man in the poster. (The last time FG had a similar launch, Enda himself went up in a cherry-picker with the extension pole. It wasn't a great success.) "Is that Paddy the Plasterer?" snorted a passing Dub.

Two hours later, and it was the PDs turn to launch their billboard. It's the nature of the business, really. You wait five years for a poster campaign, then two come along on the same day.

Their message is pure Progressive Democrats: "Income tax down." In brackets are the words "Top rate". It will look as attractive as a Wonderbra commercial to PD type of guys.

Naturally, there was the obligatory climbing on to the side of the mobile billboard. The Tánaiste and Junior Minister Liz O'Donnell hopped up first.

"The last time I did this, my skirt was too tight and I couldn't open my legs," Liz declared loudly. Michael did a quick double take and almost fell off the lorry. (We know what she meant. At a billboard unveiling last year, O'Donnell was unable to climb the ladder for the photo opportunity because of her pencil skirt. )

"Oooh," she chortled, when she saw her leader's picture tucked discreetly into a corner of the advert. "The old days!"

Then she pointed gleefully at her leader's head. Right enough, there's less hair on view in real life. He should have shoved her off.

Junior Minster Tom Parlon hauled himself up alongside. The three struck a Charlie's Angels pose - Liz, looking to her right and cruelly pointing towards the magic hair. Michael, arms folded, standing in the middle, looking purposeful. Tom, looking to his left, arm outstretched, pointing towards a punctuation mark like a game-show hostess caressing a toaster.

Clearly, the Tánaiste had been prepared for questions on a Fine Gael poster based on sending him up. The fact that it never appeared didn't stop him condemning their "bankrupt political approach".

He arrived determined to dismiss Fine Gael's embrace of "attack-dog politics" and that's what he did. Then he said he was glad Fine Gael saw sense and abandoned the path of negative politics. The Irish people have never liked attack-dog politics, declared the Tánaiste. "I don't like attack-dog politics."

Doctors can't say how long the amnesia will last.