Fitting somewhere between a cheap-shot and a spot of po-faced analysis lies this blog's "Campaign Poster Debaffler" – a (very) half-baked, critical attempt to expose the layers of meaning buried in the propagandic images that currently surround us.

First up, Fine Gael – and the bould Cllr. Cormac Hurley.

Ok, so what this (and other identical FG posters) seems to be driving at is that the party will lead the country out of its present (penurious) muck, mire and misery and on into a brave prosperous dawn. Just look at that deep blue sky with its dash of white fluffy clouds if you don't believe me. Nothing could be lovelier.

Not only that, but the good people of Ireland stand square behind both Cllr. Hurley and the party he nobly represents. They're young(ish). They're confident. They're smug (albeit with smugness somewhat chastened by global financial collapse). They're ready to put their shoulders to the wheel. They shelter beneath Cllr. Hurley's giant ears waiting for a chance to turn this country around. They look like this (or at least the ones under his left ear do).

So much for the intended effect. An alternative reading was offered by Jess as we strolled past it at the weekend. The heavenly sky of optimism in the background might be just that: heavenly. Cllr. Hurley may, in fact, be dead. He's lived a rich, full life but his time (as it must with all men) has come. There to meet him at the pearly gates are an eclectic bunch of loved ones who've gone before him. Forms are mutable in the afterlife, so Cllr. Hurley may soon (if he so chooses) "look" like that confident successful guy with the blonde hair and blue shirt. Anything's possible. He could even have boobs.

Now there's a campaign slogan for ya. Forget "A Fairer Ireland" (snore, boring). This is the kind of radical alternative the gloomy, cynical public wants:

Fine Gael – You Could have Boobs.

They'd have my vote.