That’s right. It’s time to get pumped.
Let that mug of tea slip from your fingers. Unhand that Sunday Tribune. Stop worrying about RTE Radio’s gender balance and the Cheryl Tweedy/Nadine Coyle rift. Rise, in slow motion, to your full height, fill your chest with the sweet oxygen of righteousness and bellow: ‘I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!’
Now remember, it’s Sunday, so there’s a fair chance someone will call the guards. Before this day is out, you may be wheeled from your apartment with a tennis ball in your mouth.
That outcome, however, is by no means certain.