Please have pity over the next couple of days during this voting frenzy ye are all involved in all over the island.

Please have some compassion for a poor vulnerable virgin who has been waiting in growing terror in the Green Room for weeks in the hope of being given her chance to take her place on the stage of Irish history.

My name is Kathleen Ní Houlihan. 

I come from a highly respectable nationalist family with a century of service to the State. 

I am ready, willing, and able to serve my part too,but, the Lord between us and all harm, all the indications today is that ye are getting ready to hang me in a matter of days. 

Please pity me. Please do not hang me. I deserve better.

I may be a young and vulnerable virgin with a slender neck and high hopes for my future but I am not a fool either and all the evidence available to me, and all the indications to hand, suggest that you indeed intend to hang me so that I will never enjoy the full Dáil lifetime I was born and bred to expect.

The sisterhood of past Dáileanna, gathered around me in the Green Room this week, are wearing the kind of sympathetic faces ye humans wear at one of your wakes. 

I see them looking at my slender neck the way the English hangman Pierrepoint used look at the necks of the criminals he was imported into Ireland to hang years ago. 

They silently pat the backs of my hands the way ye touch the hands of corpses. They tut-tut and whisper in the corners of the Green Room.

The sisterhood have a century of experience about your human general elections. Their acceptance of my apparently impending doom terrifies me as I wait. 

I am no whinger at all but, even at this late stage, I implore all of ye to show me some compassion. There is still time to prevent me from being left dangling on the scaffold of history as a poor hung Dáil.

Please, please, go out and vote for any candidate at all even if you had intended to stay at home and not exercise your franchise at all. 

Please, I beg ye, do not spoil your vote because then it is no use to anybody. 

Given the recent Kerry affair please make sure that you give your Number One to some candidate. 

I don’t care which candidate you vote for. I just want ye to vote and maybe change the electoral picture I am looking at today. 

And remember the old Indian folk saying if you are concerned about the eternal battle between the so-called Left Wing and the Right Wing. The Indians always pointed out that both wings are attached to the one bird. And that is the pure truth.

I had two interesting visitors to the Green Room yesterday. They were introduced to me as Padraig Pearse and James Connolly. They sat down either side of me and were sad and sympathetic. 

They often shook heir heads from side to side as they watched the election activity away below us on a big screen. 

They were not complimentary at all about the politicians of all parties they were seeing in action.

Connolly said at one point that he now regrets starting the battle which led to the establishment of the first Dáil after a lot of bloodshed and national agony. 

I found that interesting even in the throes of my current terror. I also found it interesting to hear Pearse regret that he started the Rising in Dublin, turned the GPO into a handy cockshot for British troops and their gunboats.

He said he should instead have pitched the insurrection into the mountains and valleys of the West and South where guerrilla warfare, as the IRA later proved, was a recipe for eventual victory and the establishment of the oldest of my sisterhood of Dáileanna a full century ago now.

I would remind ye all, as voting time and decision time approaches fast, that the full lifetime of a Dáil is only a little longer than the fluttering lifetime of some of our butterflies, a mere five years. Show a little compassion, then, and do not hang me.

Let me have my day.


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