A generation fired up
Opinion: Bill Cullen clearly has a lot to learn.
I tend to make a habit of catching RTE’s Frontline these days. In spite of it being a show named after an area of inherent disaster where various unwitting souls are shown to their deaths, it’s actually a pretty good current affairs programme, dodging both the mind-bending hysteria and frying-pan-to-the-head density that are often the pitfalls of the genre. The presenter, Pat Kenny, has shed the socially awkward albatross he used to have hanging round his neck when doing The Late Late, and he looks and sounds all the better for getting rid of the high levels of lame out of his bloodstream that could well have killed him.
This Monday I was particularly interested in seeing what went on, as the topic was the general malaise affecting young people, especially in relation to unemployment and emigration. As an, eh, enduringly freelance media odd-jobber who’s itching to settle in London, this was obviously a pertinent topic.
Making it even more pertinent though was the presence of Ruairi McKiernan, mentor, SpunOut grand fromage and all round ace guy, articulating what so many of us young, educated and frustrated people are feeling right now. I was rather enjoying the show, until Bill Cullen piped up.
Now I’m sure Bill loves to think that apart from being a one man island industry he’s also a man o’ de pee-opil, so I’m guessing somewhere in his train of thought – which he learned on the streets, don’t ya know - he probably thought he was doing the country a public service by uniformly castigating the whole generation as a bunch of mollycoddled over-educated whiners with no drive or initiative. But he wasn’t, he was just being a tit.
First of all, his whole “get on your bike and look for work” shtick, as if he were Norman Tebbit without the sense of humour, is ignorant at best and smugly simplistic at worst. Those staggeringly qualified people in the audience didn’t get the advanced education Cullen seems so hostile to by being bone idle. If I’m any barometer of feeling, all the young people in that audience are all dying to actually put their skills and talents to practice, not hunting for scraps of poorly paid or voluntary work experience and spending their days throwing out CV’s like those machines that spit out baseballs.
The simple fact is that the job market has quantifiably shrunk, and short of fashioning employment out of clay the opportunities simply aren’t there. And for the opportunities that are there, the competition is beyond fierce. I mean, we could just turn up at a place we’d like to work and force them to hire us on sheer force of personality, but there are laws against that kind of thing.
Not that Bill accepts that or seems to care. One lad, an optimistic and reasonable fellow, accepted Cullen’s premise about the need for a shake-up in attitude but said he had bills to pay he couldn’t ignore, was told he should leave the country if it was necessary to get work, and with it his debts. There were plenty more gems like that, all delivered in his “Sure is that not common sense?” tone.
Exactly where does this man get off? For all his up-by-the-bootstraps talk, his car dealership was damn glad of the government scrappage scheme money they received, and he’s otherwise best known for arsing about on a TV show that’s so hilariously awful it’s just one step up from the lip-wonky Kinder Surprise ads of the late eighties. A TV show, incidentally, based on a format copied and pasted from the UK, which was itself copied and pasted from the US. Presumably he leaves that initiative and enterprise he talks about to other people.
I only wish it was as easy as Bill Cullen claims it is, but it just isn’t. I wish I could click my fingers and replace Jonathan Ross as host of the BAFTA’s (Lord knows I couldn’t do worse than he did) but it’s a harder slog than that, and that’s fine, it should be hard, but at the minute it’s nigh on insurmountable. Young people today are battling with every nerve and sinew to keep their spirits up, let alone their bank balances, and the last thing we need is a clueless gaum with all the answers, telling us what we’re doing wrong.
By: Paddy Duffy
















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