It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Fifty valuable Dáil minutes were given over to tributes for deceased members as party leaders, along with a clutch of backbenchers, set the tone for the pre-election session.
In today's time-wrenched culture, the exercise might be seen as archaic and wasteful. But, as the ritual unfolded and the political personalities lived again, it became an important affirmation of traditional values in a maelstrom of change.
The deaths of Mark Clinton, of Colm Hilliard and of Jim Tunney had touched everyone to some extent. Many had not been elected when Mark Clinton was minister for agriculture, but they were aware of his contribution.
And, as the disparate personalities and achievements of the three men were explored, it was seen that a common strand united them. Across the old Civil War divide, the concept of public service had bound them and invigorated their lives.
In the course of those all-party tributes, Mary Harney spoke of "old-style elegance and charm". And while the epithet perfectly fitted the individual concerned, it also reflected the commemorative exercise under way. Elected members of the democratic system were saying goodbye to colleagues, none of them plaster-cast saints, who had passed the torch.
Then, like deep-sea divers breaking water, the party leaders shook themselves and got down to the gritty, pre-election business in hand.
Political advantage, rather than common purpose, was the objective. And Liam Lawlor's name loomed large.
Bertie Ahern, whose most effective tactic has been masterly inactivity, was at it again. Pushed by Michael Noonan and Ruairí Quinn to support an all-party motion of censure in the former Fianna Fáil TD, the Taoiseach's reply was "no problem".
Twelve months ago, when supporting a similar motion, Mr Ahern recalled he had said: "Ultimately, a motion such as the one proposed serves only as an expression of opinion and carries only such moral weight as the public attribute to it." In other words, it didn't matter a toss to the Government because its voting strength in the Dáil was not threatened. And efforts by the opposition parties to make it count by introducing a new code of conduct for Oireachtas members had been stymied by the Coalition.
Last May, the Committee on Members' Interests accepted a Labour Party motion which required members "to co-operate with all tribunals of inquiry and other bodies inquiring into matters of public importance established by the Houses of the Oireachtas". Failure to co-operate could attract a penalty of up to three months' suspension without pay.
Nothing happened, other than the Standards in Public Office Act took effect.
This provided specifically for a code of conduct and the Government asked the Members' Interests Committee to look again at its recommendations. It did so and, before Christmas, proposed similar-style penalties.
Again, nothing happened. Other than Mr Lawlor continued to cock a snook at the tribunal. So, next week, yet another toothless motion concerning Mr Lawlor will be proposed by Mr Ahern under pressure from the opposition party leaders.
There will be no mechanism is place to suspend Mr Lawlor from the Dáil for conduct unbecoming a member of parliament. As he prepares to revisit Mountjoy Jail, these matters are probable very far from the mind of the Independent TD.
But, within Government, the counting of votes goes on. The nearer an election looms, the more precarious its Dáil vote may become. If Mr Lawlor's support was to become available in a month, having served a new prison term, why risk losing him for three months under a Dáil code of conduct?
Of course, the Coalition Government is committed to the highest possible standards in public life. And new laws and regulations have been passed to prove it. But when it comes to taking action that might directly impact on its own survival, masterly inactivity is the Taoiseach's response.
Noel O'Flynn, a Fianna Fáil TD from Cork city, climbed on a local bandwagon last week and accused asylum-seekers of "holding the country hostage" and of being "spongers, wasters and con-men".
Challenged about these sentiments in the Dáil, Mr Ahern rejected the comments and indicated he had made this clear to Mr O'Flynn.
But the message had not got through. Within hours, Mr Flynn was advising the Dáil about "the many illegal immigrants who are causing hostile public reaction because of their anti-social behaviour and abuse of Irish hospitality".
On the other side of the House, and with three months to go to the general election, time was running out for Michael Noonan. Last week's Irish Times/MRBI opinion poll, which showed him with a 31 per cent satisfaction rating, while Fine Gael languished at 21 per cent, hit the party like a lump hammer.
There was worse to come this week when constituency polls in Clare and Galway West, suggested that Fianna Fáil would take more than 50 per cent of the votes and six of the nine seats in the two constituencies.
No wonder Mr Noonan concentrated on the number of seats to be won by Fine Gael and Labour (between four and eight), rather than the steep rise in first-preference votes, if an alternative government was to be formed.
No matter that he was standing knee-deep in political manure, the Fine Gael leader gritted his teeth and got stuck in. Things, he believed, could only get better. And, in spite of the moaning Jeremiahs around him, it seemed he might be right.
The Bertie Bowl suddenly imploded under pressure from the Progressive Democrats. Mr Lawlor was packed off to jail for the third time. And a dodgy referendum on abortion was coming down the tracks.
• Dick Walsh is on leave