Such vandalism cannot be condoned, of course. But nobody could accuse the author of that graffiti attack on Donegal TD Cecilia Keaveney's home of lacking subtlety,writes Frank McNally.
To criticise the ban on drift-netting ("No samon no futcher - thanks FF"), while also getting in a sly dig about the Government's poor record on literacy is a real achievement in such a short slogan.
A survey of primary schools earlier this year suggested that there had been no improvement in literacy levels since a similar study in 1999 showed severe reading difficulties among 30 per cent of children in poorer areas. Clearly, this was not lost on the slogan writer in Donegal. Nor was the fact that Noel Dempsey, the man responsible for the drift-net ban, was minister for education during some of that period.
But wait. The graffiti could also be interpreted as having a completely different, pro-Government meaning. It could have been written by an eco-warrior (hence the anarchist contempt for conventional spelling), equating depleted salmon stocks with the destruction of the planet by mankind. Considered in that sense, the message could be one of genuine gratitude to the main Government party for acting before it's too late.
If you're reading this, graffiti author, maybe you would clear up the confusion for us. In a letter, this time. With a name and address attached. You might as well send a copy to the gardaí in Moville while you're at it.
The salmon is the source of all knowledge, as every Irish schoolchild knows.
At least it was in prehistoric Ireland.
We all thrilled as children to the story of that famous cooking accident when Fionn (of the pre-Fáil Fianna) acquired all the learning in the world just by burning his thumb on another man's fish supper and then sticking it in his mouth.
I always felt sorry for old Finegas, the poet-sage who actually caught the salmon of knowledge and was preparing to eat it when fate intervened. But on the other hand, Fionn's lucky break was an inspiring story of a young man overcoming educational disadvantage to make something of his life.
It must still be an inspiration to students whose schools didn't make the top 400 in the Sunday Times league.
The legend seems quite prescient today given what is now known about the health benefits of fish, and especially their contribution to brain development.
Not to mention the fact that it also presages the rise of the computer-driven knowledge economy.
The modern equivalent of the mythical salmon is the Google search engine, which now offers instant access to all the (uncopyrighted) knowledge in the world (except in China).
You don't even have to burn your thumb in the process; although of course tendonitis caused by overuse of your mouse-clicking finger is a common form of Repetitive Strain Injury.
You still have to be able to read, though, and as we noted earlier, this is not something you can take for granted even in wealthy modern Ireland.
The aforementioned study of literacy in schools suggested that children from poorer backgrounds were three times more likely than average to have serious reading problems - unchanged since 1999.
In some schools, the proportion of students affected was 50 per cent.
I was reminded of the figures this week by a new publication that arrived on my desk. It's not everyday the Irishman's Diary can claim to have read a book in one sitting.
But the claim is completely true of a volume called Room to Read. Then again, it only runs to 10 pages, half of them pictures, and the text comprises 273 words, none of them big. So it really is no exaggeration to say that I couldn't put it down until I finished it.
Written by Eanna Ní Lamhna and Catherine Heaney, the simple story concerns the plight of twin mice, Millie and Marty, who can't read at night because their home is too small. In a display of charming naivety, they contact the mouse mayor to see if he can build them a bigger house.
And without giving the plot away, suffice to say that the story ends with the words "after", "ever", and "happily", although not in that order.
Real life is a bit more complex, obviously. But the children's book is just part of a broader Right to Read Campaign being championed by the dynamic young Deputy Lord Mayor of Dublin, Aodhán Ó Riordáin.
As well as distributing 20,000 copies of the book to schools and libraries, the campaign demands support for homework clubs, longer library opening hours, and more active promotion of reading in disadvantaged areas.
The city council is backing the scheme with €1.2 million next year, and you too can help by logging on to www.righttoread.ie.
Not everyone can go to Gonzaga College, unfortunately, which has again topped the league for the proportion of students going to university: a whopping 95 per cent.
In the lottery of economic advantage, however, the least we can do is make sure that everyone has one of the salmon-coloured tickets.