THE SHOW is on the road. And what a show it promises to be. You can keep your Chipperfield's, your Barnum and Bailey and your Billy Smart. I'm plumping for the non stop, ongoing, semi inclusive, substantive, meaningful, knifeedge, cliffhanging, Wild North Show.
Roll up, folks, we've got them all. Here he is, larger than life: Dr Ian Paisley! Yes, he's been on the road a while but he's lost none of that famous sparkle.
And here's an addition to our bill, David Trimble. He's a unionist and Paisley's a unionist and Bob McCartney's a unionist, so why are they in different parties. Why don't they form a Union of Unionists? Perfidious Albion is one of the reasons. Look what happened yesterday lunchtime. There was BBC television in London, setting up interviews with Paisley and Trimble.
With the sensitivity the imperial capital generally shows in Irish affairs, it arranged an interview with Paisley, followed by an interview with Trimble, followed by a second interview with Paisley - a right of reply.
When Trimble heard what was to happen, he went ballistic.
All bets are off, was his message. Suddenly BBC stood for "Better Back off Corporation" and it was agreed there would be one interview with each.
But who would go first? It was like the Abbot and Costello comedy routine about a baseball player called Hoo: "Who's on first?" "Yeah, Hoo's on first." Paisley was first, then there was a long interval filled with items of news from around the world, followed by a Trimble interview. On top of all that, poor Trimble had to endure the remonstrations of Willie McCrea. Yes, my Momma told me there'd be days like this.
The media are not admitted to the talks. Instead they waste away in Portakabins, knowing not the hour or the minute that another politician will emerge scattering soundbites. Thank God we have a democracy here, not like those old Iron Curtain countries; remember how we celebrated the collapse of the Berlin Wall; it must have been terrible for those poor people living in the shadow of Big Brother and under the communist yoke where nobody knew what their political leaders were doing. But the media are not admitted to the talks.
Hopes rose briefly when a wave with George Mitchell was announced. This is where "snappers" (photographers) take pictures, but the "scribblers" (reporters) get a chance to fire a question or two. But no, the "wave" or photocall would be "mute". A daaarlin' wurrrddd that, "mute". Orwell thou shouldst be living at this hour.
Since we're not allowed in, we backs must perforce sniff around, "suss out" things and winkle snippets of information from the participants. It would have been priceless to watch the scene early Wednesday morning when a unionist delegate tried to occupy the chair before George Mitchell arrived. He was fended off by the Political Development Minister, the resourceful Michael Ancram, who installed a woman civil servant to hold the seat for the former senator. Admit it, George, you never had such fun on Capitol
Another vignette involves a fringe loyalist, a gentleman who had a run in or two with the law in the Bad Old Days. Staggering out at the end of 16 hours of negotiations he blurted to the nearest policeman: "I thought Castlereagh, was torture until I came here.
Like the media, Sinn Fein is excluded from the talks but only until the IRA declares another ceasefire. We obviously need a media military wing: enough of this ballpoint in one hand and notebook in the other carry on, we gotta get ourselves some hardware. And no decommissioning by the front door, side door, back door or trapdoor, not an ounce!
Sinn Fein held a protest march up the avenue to Stormont yesterday. Was that a tear I saw rolling down the cheeks of Carson's statue? If equality of treatment, parity of esteem and genuine reconciliation come to pass, the Carson statue will be seen as a symbol of division. Why not bring him back to Dublin where he was born? Yes, Carson was a Dub. There's a challenge for you, Taoiseach.