The year is 2015. The Government has called a press conference so the Tánaiste can announce the creation of a new job. The media are gathered in their hundreds; their notebooks and cameras primed and ready. The public wait in eager anticipation; enthusiastic crowds cluster around TV sets all across the country.
A new job! Nothing like this has happened in years.
The Tánaiste clears her throat.
“We are pleased,” she begins excitedly; “To be able to announce the success of our newest initiative to generate employment.”
“Working closely with my colleagues, the Minister of Finance, The Minister of Labour, The Minister of Arts & Culture, The Minister of Education and the Office of Public Works,” she continues breathlessly; “The Government, working through the auspices of FAS, Enterprise Ireland and the IDA; with the help of our colleagues in the European Union through the History of Ireland Initiative Fund; and with the generous support of the IMF, the World Bank and the United Nations.”
She pauses, deliberately playing to the gallery of assembled journalists, stoking the tension of the crowds of TV viewers patiently waiting to see if the rumour going around the social networking sites really is true. The tension in the country is audible.
“This new initiative, that the Government started 5 years ago, has now become a reality. It is the summation of years of dedication and hard work by each and every member of the Cabinet. It is a direct tribute to the personal involvement of the Taoiseach himself. It is the flagship of the Government’s strategic philosophy to both preserve the past and at the same time look towards the future.”
The media shuffle in their seats. The Tánaiste knows the time is right for the coup de grace.
“I am pleased to declare the National Museum of Jobs open,” the Tánaiste announces. She cuts a red ribbon, and giant velvet curtains open to reveal a huge photograph of a building somewhere in Co Meath that was originally designed to be a prison.
The audience of hacks and snappers clap politely. This isn’t the big news they’ve come to hear. They wait patiently for the Tánaiste to resume her announcement.
“I am also delighted,” she reads from her prepared speech. Her voice is strong; this is her moment; “To be able to tell that you that a Curator is required for this new Museum.”
A buzz of excitement sweeps around the Press Room.
“That’s right,” she continues, raising her arms in triumph; “We have created a new position; a new position that anyone with the relevant experience can apply for.”
So the rumour was true. The Government really had created a new job. This was indeed a joyous day. The TV viewers across the country leapt from their seats in ecstasy. There is spontaneous public acclaim and celebration at the news. Citizens are dancing in the streets, hugging family, friends and complete strangers.
A new job! Nothing like this has happened in years.
All the journalists, except one, scribble away on their notebooks; cameras flash. The Tánaiste poses and smiles; she’s lapping up the sense of joy and jubilation that she knows is spreading across the country. The next election should be a doddle now.
The journalist who hadn’t started scribbling raises his hand to ask a question. “What relevant experience is needed to apply for this job?”he enquires.
“Applicant’s will need to have had a full year’s continuous work experience in any job in the last 3 years,” the Tánaiste explains.
The silence in the Press Room is deafening. The crowds across the country stop celebrating.
“What did you say?” the journalist asks; his pencil ready to scribble down the Tánaiste’s answer word for word.
“A full year’s continuous work experience in any job in the last 3 years,” the Tánaiste repeated the experience required for this new position.
Sadly, despite millions of Euros of public investment and masses of publicity, the Museum of Jobs never opened its doors to the public. No-one with the relevant experience came forward for the new position of Curator.
Copyright © David Jones 2009
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