Making sure our Ministers don't go off the rails all at once

The Bertie: a poorly-illuminated hole that gobbles up large wodges of money.

HAVE YOU seen the plans for the new underground railway linking Heuston and Dublin's Docklands? Looks impressive, doesn't it?

Of course, the chances of it being finished on schedule are roughly equivalent to my falling asleep tonight and waking up at the reins of a mammoth-powered chariot, dressed as Napoleon's little sister, tearing across the Rings of Saturn.

Cynicism aside, the most interesting fact is that it goes right under Leinster House. How convenient - politicians will now be able to get the train to work, saving our lovely environment from their Merc fumes. In addition, it will free up Leinster Lawn, which is currently a car park, allowing the installation of a village of portacabins in which to house the Seanad. The problem is, I doubt many politicians - men and women of de peeeple though they claim to be - would relish rubbing shoulders with the hoi polloi. "Security concerns," they'd bleat self-importantly. Fair enough. For many of them, Wille O'Dea excepted, the risk of a puck in the chops from a disgruntled voter is more than slight.

No doubt, Iarnród Éireann would have to be browbeaten into providing a separate prole-free politico-only service to get them aboard. At great expense.

Obviously, the Ministers would get pride of place in first class on this Gravy Train. Engines pulling them would need to be fitted with little flags to emphasise their importance, while Garda outriders on motorbikes would lead the way, shunting paying civilians into sidings to facilitate ministerial passage.

Backbenchers would be herded into cattle class on a promise that if they toe the line, some day they may get a seat up the front. I can see them now, wistfully listening to the guffaws of the Big Cheeses next door.

This all sounds dandy, but may I suggest, for convenience, that the route be diverted slightly to allow for a stop directly underneath Dublin Castle?

This would allow our Great Leaders to arrive in carriages with darkened windows, out of the public glare. Sometimes there is such a thing as bad publicity. They could then be spirited into the tribunals via the type of collapsible tunnel used in soccer stadiums to stop players being pelted with bottles and pig's heads by the slavering hordes.

I imagine the politicians would welcome this arrangement. Indeed, the more astute among them will already have seen the opportunities to ensure these Tribunal Specials are delayed so often that they never arrive at all. ("We're sorry to announce that the 10.20am train is cancelled due to brown envelopes on the line.")

Of course, the Gravy Train would not come cheap. In addition to the expense of the hyper-plush fittings in the carriages, it would require the installation of extra ventilation fans, way bigger than those in the Port Tunnel, to funnel away the excess hot air emitted by its passengers. Dangerous stuff, so it is. The plain people of Ireland have been gagging on it for decades.

The one concern is that engineering problems could cause structural damage, undermining the very foundations of Dáil Éireann. While you'd imagine most journalists would be only too happy with the prospect of more leaks from Leinster House, even we'd baulk at this.

All we have to think now of is a name for the whole system. The Luas is the Daniel Day, after all, so how about the Bertie? Once built, the underground railway will be a poorly-illuminated hole that gobbles up huge wodges of money and goes right to the dark heart of power.

Not to mention the fact the whole Government could collapse into it if they don't take drastic measures to shore up the ever-widening cracks.