DAIL SKETCH/Frank McNally: It was the best of times and the worst of times in the Dáil yesterday, but it was lack of time that had the Opposition complaining.
Enda Kenny suggested Government policy on legislation marked "the most frequent use of the guillotine since the French Revolution". And before anyone could accuse him of talking hyperbolics, Pat Rabbitte echoed the sentiment. Guillotining was sometimes acceptable, "but Madame Defarge seems to have an excuse every day".
All eyes turned to the Government chief whip, Mary Hanafin. On the face of it, comparing her with the bloodthirsty revolutionary from A Tale of Two Cities seemed harsh. Unlike Madame Defarge, Ms Hanafin is not known for knitting (except occasionally her eyebrows). And while she does have a certain steely air, it's not so much the steel of the guillotine as that of a schoolmistress, keeping control of a roomful of rowdy boys.
It was the Taoiseach, however, who told Masters Kenny and Rabbitte to stand at the back of the class. There were very good reasons for expediting yesterday's Bills, he said. One was already two years late; another had no amendments; and the third - the National Tourism Development Authority Bill - needed to be in place for the tourism season.
The problems facing tourism were aired in the subsequent debate. Speaking in a chamber emptier than a west of Ireland B&B, Tourism Minister John O'Donoghue conceded that increased competition was making it a "tough world out there".
Jimmy Deenihan complained we weren't being careful enough with the tourists we had. Thanks to atrocious signposting, "people are getting lost on a daily basis." Right on cue, a visiting Czech delegation drifted out of the Dáil's VIP gallery and into the unknown.
Iraq was raised on leaders' questions, and, not for the first time, the Taoiseach seemed more comfortable talking about the confused legality of the war, rather than the even more confused morality.
The war was also raised in questions to the Minister for Defence, when Dinny McGinley wondered about Irish air cover in the event of terrorist attack. Mr Smith assured him that there was "no current credible threat"; which is just as well, because from the details provided our air cover is not current or credible either.
Then, before you could say Code Red, Mr McGinley mounted a surface-to-air attack on the new Government jet, about to go to tender. The Minister deflected criticisms about the cost by recalling that the first jet was bought at a time of 17 per cent unemployment. It had done its bit to promote Ireland since and if we could afford a plane during the worst of times, we could afford one now.
Undaunted, Mr McGinley dug into the Fine Gael bag of historic exaggerations and suggested the luxury offered by the new aircraft would rival "the dying days of the Roman empire". All eyes in the Chamber turned to Mr Smith. And while implied comparisons with the emperor Caligula seemed unduly harsh, he did have a definite Patrician air, and you could all-too-easily imagine him in a toga.