Mucking about in the tank when somehow it all turns septic

NEWTON'S OPTIC: THE IRISH Times brings you this exclusive extract from Éamon Ó Cuív’s prison diary, shortly to be published …

NEWTON'S OPTIC: THE IRISH Timesbrings you this exclusive extract from Éamon Ó Cuív's prison diary, shortly to be published under the title In the Tank.

DAY 1

“As you’re in for septic tanks, you won’t mind slopping out.”

That was my welcome to Mountjoy, where, like my grandfather before me, I have been denied political status, and placed in a shared cell on A Wing. Of course it was absurd of the warden to compare slopping out to a modern on-site sewage system.

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For one thing, it won’t take a €300 inspection to know when this bucket is full.

DAY 2

I am heartened by the many letters of support I have already received from other people refusing to pay their septic tank charge.

It makes a nice change from all those angry letters I received from my constituents about cryptosporidium, especially as some of them seem to have come from the same people.

I think all of us in Fianna Fáil agree that this ability to forgive and forget is what makes the Irish so special.

DAY 3

My cellmate, who goes by the charming moniker of “Dekko”, tells me there are proper toilets in E Wing. I accept that

amenities will differ from place to place for purely practical reasons.

No doubt E Wing is much closer to the main drain.

However, I note that even here in custody, those with different plumbing are not necessarily facing different charges. See? It’s a matter of principle.

DAY 4

Tried to explain my position to Dekko but he is struggling to understand.

“So,” he said, “if it’s not about the environment, the economy, Europe, social class, personal freedom, collective

responsibility or anything left-wing or right-wing at all, how can it still be a matter of principle?”

We really must do something about the number of low-IQ people this country locks away.

DAY 5

Pretty whiffy in here this morning. Held my nose in a V-shape, using my other grandfather’s system of simplified smelling.

DAY 6

Tried again to explain myself to Dekko. “It’s about equality between people who live in the country and people who live in the town.”

He replied: “What about people who live between towns,in all those places that used to be the country? Does your

party not care about them?”

Dear, dear. I’m afraid the poor boy is completely retarded.

DAY 7

A message has been passed to

me in the exercise yard, apparently “from Portlaoise”, informing me that if my actions constitute a “dirty protest”

I will have “the support of the organisation”.

Honestly, this is intolerable. Septic tanks are not dirty in any way. Have these people never heard of anaerobic digestion?

DAY 8

“Here,” Dekko said, “are you sure this whole ‘septic tank’ thing of yours won’t have the papers making cracks about ‘septic banks’?”

“Absolutely not,” I assured him. “No self-respecting writer would put his name to such an obvious joke.”

DAY 9

Bit of a set-to in the canteen today.

I was just explaining how an overflow can be handled as long as the scum isn’t released when all of a sudden all hell broke loose.

On the plus side, I have now been moved to E Wing.