Seamus Brennan is photographed crawling through a window, Mary Hanafin and Eamon Ó Cuív dancing a céilí in the Shelbourne Hotel and Proinsias de Rossa decked out in an Irish jersey.
It has been a cheerful kind of self-abasement. The deal apparently, was to come out, hands up and with rueful grins for bottling out last time, clearing the way with the mea culpas before moving into full-frontal campaigning mode. This could be viewed as praiseworthy (honest and penitent, willing to own up and move on) or outrageous (the lazy beggars got away with it only because they awarded themselves a second bite).
Either way, it's nothing to grin about. What happened last time was unforgivable: they left the people swinging in the wind, without leadership, inspiration or motivation on the same treaty that the same leaders now insist is nothing less than "vital", "historic" and capable of dealing a "devastating blow" to the economy if rejected. Recalling their pathetic efforts, it was almost amusing this week to see Frank Fahey quiver indignantly at the number of Galway "pillars of society" who failed to vote.
Remember that devastatingly persuasive little slogan: "If you don't know, vote No" ? Even now, with the avalanches of information crashing in from every side, many people remain confused.
Is anyone else a tad bemused at Eamon Ó Cuív's insistence that "it was not the content of the Nice Treaty" which made him vote No last time?
How often in recent weeks have we heard a point made by No debaters shot down on the basis that "(sigh) it's not in the treaty"?
If pillars like Ó Cuív were in such a dither before, is it any wonder that ordinary, responsible people reasoned that while Yes would be a step into the unknown (and hardly wise therefore), a No would send the wrong message?
For the only time, I dimly understood why people might choose not to exercise their franchise.
The question is, how did we, the most enthusiastic of Europeans, assume such a pitch of ignorance in the first place? Is it because we were too apathetic to listen to our political masters, worn out trying to explain upcoming directives and so on in plain English? Or because, on the contrary, none of our politicians was bothered or competent enough to recognise that keeping people informed is basic to keeping them on-side ?
The answer is, probably a smidgen of the first and a large dollop of the second. We never demanded prior notice in accessible language, as a right. And the politicians mistook our trust for indifference and carried on.
Sooner or later, there were going to be tears. The effect of the No win before was to ram the concerns of the revolting natives into first place. Before putting Nice to them again, it was decided that two major public issues had to be tackled.
The first was the neutrality issue, which triggered the Seville Declarations and the proposed constitutional amendment (but won't stop the US military using Shannon).
The second was the "disconnect" between the plain people and the EU. This seemed to dawn on the leadership only after the No vote.
Though potentially a greater obstacle to the great European project than almost any of the hot issues adorning the lampposts, it has hardly had a mention this time. So is it safe to assume that the people are content with the commitment to "improve parliamentary scrutiny of EU actions", as the Fianna Fáil leaflet puts it ?
It is a fine and sensible aspiration, of course. The problem is that if "parliamentary scrutiny", Irish-style, is to be the means by which the "connect" between the EU and the plain people of Ireland is re-established, we can start the long goodbye now. Because contained in this proposal is the bizarre notion that the Dáil is a forum for free, intelligent debate, one that boasts genuine accountability and aims to stimulate public interest as opposed to boring it to death.
New, young TDs like Waterford's John Deasy, baptised in the Flood "debate", are already aghast at parliamentary tactics which, he notes, "are being used by Government to prevent awkward questions being asked". Mediocrity rules as ministers hide behind standing orders. Prepared scripts - banned to TDs in the past - delivered in a drone ensure that no-one listens. The best way for a TD to keep a secret is to make a speech about it in the Dáil, as John Bruton put it.
There was a notion that none of it mattered. Sure the significant work is done in committee now, shrug the insiders, and the executive makes the big decisions before they get within an ass's roar of the Dáil.
So why insult us with the pretence of a debating chamber at all ?
And can someone explain how such a system will help to reconnect the Irish public with Europe?
For all that, I'll be a Yes. Working visits to applicant countries in 1999, 10 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, left me with images of grievously suffering people enduring economic nightmares, in the belief that the EU held the key to their children's futures. Who among the No side will spell out which five of the 10 applicants should suffer and wait even one week longer?