A referendum on gay marriage won't pass easily even though it affects the happiness and security of thousands in our society, writes Fergus Finlay.

For a number of years now, I’ve gone over to Buswells Hotel near the Dáil with colleagues from our sector to listen to the budget announcement, and to respond quickly to any media requests for comment.

TODAY’S the day. We’ll discover if the Government has a chance of making history, and of becoming the first coalition in our history to be re-elected. Today’s Budget will be the first of two tests.

YOU contacted me in your droves last week and expressed yourselves in words of one syllable — all because I queried the significance of the John McNulty debacle.

IS it just me, or has the political world gone mad? I’ve never seen so much invective heaped on a political leader, from outside and inside his own party. 

ISN’T Culture Night fantastic? I don’t know what it was like down your way, but throughout Dublin there was just an amazing buzz last Friday night. Queues everywhere to get into places like St Patrick’s Cathedral and the Dublinia exhibition, and throngs of people in the streets. There was an incredible downpour around half seven, but it didn’t seem to dampen anyone’s spirits.

IF there’s anything that makes us universally smug, it’s the wonderful unbeatable quality of our education system. The best little education system in the world, isn’t it? Only the other night I saw young people on the 9 o’clock News, clutching their Junior Cert results, their faces awash with relief and happiness at their results. They were on track to get the points they needed for college.

WHEN my wife was a child, she was taken to mass every Sunday. Every Sunday, she noticed a small group of children, in what seemed to be reserved seats to the side of the church. They were always cold, pinched and blue. Dressed in khaki, they would troop in quietly at the start and troop out again, through a side door, at the end.

WATCHED the first episode of The West Wing, for the first time in years, the other night. I’d forgotten how good it was: a dense, fast-paced political drama, packed with dialogue and incident. You knew you were watching something good.

I was going to write 1,200 words about Richard Dawkins, a man whose behaviour incensed me beyond words last week. The more I thought about it, the more I thought he wasn’t worth it. Instead, I want to write about Joe Kavanagh.