Where's All The Money Gone?

So all the money in the world has disappeared. It’s just gone, people like Bernie Madoff ( the most aptly name con artist ever) Breifne O’ Brien and Michael Lynn took every shilling. You know the few bob you had put away to do the back garden next Summer, Michael Lynn is using that to buy cosmopolitans for his wife in Costa Rica as we speak.

So maybe it’s not correct to say it has disappeared, it’s just been moved from where we all assumed it was to a secret location known to only a select few. Madoff and O’Brien, we are told, were operating pyramid schemes which presumably lured people in on the false pretext that they would be getting into the Egyptian property market on the “ground floor“ as they say. “Oh it’s a lovely two bedroom place, fifteen minutes to downtown Cairo, Nile views.” Their money is now an artifact.

Lynn used a bank’s money to get himself a nice big pile up in Howth and then used the profile of said pile to convince several other banks to give him yet more money, all collateralised by the fantasy that the value of the property would head skywards and never stop. It did stop and the dream died.

Sean Fitzpatrick found himself a bit short one day despite the €3 million approx. per year he was pulling out of his employers in wages and bonuses. So he went into work that very day and decided to write himself a loan for €87 million to tide himself over till pay day.

The government then decided in an act of unparalleled benevolence that they would use our money to shore up his bank and leave it up to Fitzy himself to decide if he wanted to continue working there. Less than two years ago a share in this bank would have cost you the price of a round of drinks in a Dublin nightclub. Today the same share can be had for the price of a Macaroon bar.

Now it’s the people who have to produce the paper trail to reflect all these comings and goings that I feel sorry for. The financial oompa loompas. Did you ever get yourself ensnared in a cycle of small loans amongst a group of people? And then when you were flush again you had to go about sorting it all out. “Here’s the fiver I borrowed off you the other day but you owe Frank a tenner so I’ll just give this to him and you still owe him a fiver but Frank owes Paddy fifteen quid so when you get that fiver give it to him and Frank will owe Paddy a tenner but I got three quid off Paddy the other day for the papers so you give him seven and give me three, actually give me back that fiver I gave you a minute ago and I’ll give you two quid. Right . Everyone happy.”

Now imagine trying to do this with hundreds of parties, seven figure sums and infinite paperwork. Is there even any point, it’s obvious not much attention has been paid to procedure up to this point, will anyone even read the stuff.? Price Waterhouse Cooper are supposed to be experts and they didn’t bother, it’s the Financial Regulator’s raison d’etre and he didn’t bother.

I think the best thing to do would be to wipe the slate clean. It’s like a game of monopoly that has gotten out of control. You’re still up at five in the morning, delirious and confused alleging all manner of collusion and sharp practice. All you own is a derelict bottle factory, the guy beside you has that much money you can’t even see him. You know shenanigans have taken place but are not certain what. Heel up the table, let a few roars and insist we start again.

What do you do when your PC starts giving you messages you don’t understand? You shut it down, reboot and that usually sorts it out. The government should adopt a similar technique, shut down the economy and reboot. Give everyone a hundred quid seed money and see what happens.

Let’s make use of some of those islands off the west coast and banish anyone not playing by the rules. A financial leper colony. We could have a lavish ceremony to open it with President McAleese performing the ribbon cutting and officiating at the introduction of the first inmates - Fitzy, O’Brien and Lynn (if we can find him of course). We would need to pick a fairly small, barren island with scarce grazing in order to provide the right conditions for penance and mature reflection. Throw Bishop Magee over there as well to fill the modern day Fr. Matthew role.

Of course if we’re starting over we can’t have the same tired old hacks running the show. Sweeping changes are needed. I think that based on what we’ve seen over the last year there is only one credible candidate for Taoiseach and that is Bill Cullen.

A man of seemingly unshakeable principle. A candidate on the televised job interview which he hosted last year employed a bit of deception and sharp practice in order to win a task and she was immediately and ruthlessly dismissed by Bill.

A man deeply rooted in working class Dublin, savvy and streetwise. A self made man who has never lost sight of his austere beginnings, who knows the value of a dollar and most importantly will not suffer fools gladly. A man of considerable charm, an important attribute considering the task we face in re ingratiating ourselves in Europe after the shambles of last year.

What a difference six months make, we didn’t want to play last summer because the bullies owned the game now we’d love to play because, with the help of the meltdown, we have figured out that the prospect of kicking stones around the corner of the yard by ourselves indefinitely doesn’t appeal.

A man who unlike the current occupant understands that politics is show business, and he has already proven himself to be pretty adept at that. But mostly because we all know who up there needs the P45 treatment and the thought of Bill lining them up and uttering those two magic words is too good to ignore.