Bradley Bytes – And on the eighth day they rose again!

Posters again dominated the local election campaign in the run-up to Friday’s polling day.

Initially, posters dominated the early part of the campaign, and the story revolved around whether or not the posters that were erected could be considered election posters.

Legally, candidates can only put up posters 30 days prior to polling day. But, as you know, politicians are a devious and sneaky shower. They see rules as being there to be broken: it’s the Irish way, exploiting the grey area. So what we had was councillors, and wannabe-councillors, organising public meetings, and putting up ‘election posters’ to advertise those meetings. Technically, by the letter of the law, they weren’t election posters . . . technically a tomato is a fruit but you’re not going to be putting it into a fresh fruit pavlova now are you?

Once the ‘are they, aren’t they’ election posters storm blew-over, attention turned to the poster campaign proper.

Who jumped the gun – and broke the law – by erecting posters early, before the 30-day period, preoccupied the chit-chat round water-coolers.

These candidates were usually newcomers to politics, and either dripping in desperation to get their names out there or giddy with excitement to get the ‘best’ position on lampposts.

On the night of the 30-day period, the city was abuzz with dodgy-looking poster boys (and girls), hanging round lampposts with fold-up ladders and cardboard posters under their arms.

That’s when the jostling for position started: the fight for the prime position for posters – outside schools and churches and at major, busy road junctions – can often be as intense as the fight for votes.

Posters were airbrushed . . . some candidates’ heads of hair looked fuller than in real life . . . some candidates miraculously found the cure for wrinkles . . . others’ baldness disappeared . . . and grey turned to dark brown or amber red . . . some candidates were smiling, candidates whose faces would crack normally if they were to smile . . . other vacuous yokes looked honest and sincere even though they’re subscribers to sleeveen and gombeen politics . . . others, ashamed of their party, tried to hide the logo, so not to be associated with a toxic brand.

Once the posters are all up, that’s when the fun started. And the dirty tricks. There’s nothing like posters to bring out the worst in politicians and their supporters.

The same wide-boys and corner boys who erect their own candidates’ posters are the prime suspects for the ones who are out doing devilment to rivals’ posters.

Posters were defaced . . . they were stolen . . . the poster ties were cut so that the posters would swing around in the wind – if you get clipped with a stray poster you’re not going to vote for the mug that’s on it now are you?

Posters were shunted down the lampposts to a level not as visible . . . posters were turned upside down . . . they were taken down and thrown into fields and along pathways . . . posters were set on fire . . . they were vandalised . . . and all in the interest of getting your vote.

All posters must be removed a week after polling day. If they’re not, then the candidates face fines.

The dirtiest of dirty posters’ tricksters are clever: They steal their rivals posters, hide them for the length of the election campaign and put them up again the day that all posters are supposed to be taken down. And so on the eighth day, posters miraculously appear again . . . and the poor candidates who have had their posters stolen during the campaign, are then stuck with a fine when they reappear unbeknownst to themselves!

For more Bradley Bites see this week’s Sentinel.