POLITICAL spinmeisters with Mach-iavellian tendencies know only too well that if you want to bury a story, you release the news on a day when the media is distracted.

Amid the blanket coverage of the results of the Deputies elections there could be found, tucked away in the nether pages of the JEP, a story which deserves further scrutiny. It was headlined ‘Tunnel firm registers in Jersey’.

Roadbridge is an Irish engineering company which specialises in building tunnels and bypasses. It has a proven track record in the Emerald Isle. And it has now set up shop here under the name of Roadbridge (Jersey).

Why would a company which specialises in tunnels and bypasses be interested in little old us? We already have a fine tunnel, and Jersey is a bit too small for bypasses — much to the disappointment of Beaumont residents.

We also possess an underpass that is about to be dug up, re-dug and extended. If a company excels at that sort of thing, why not get in early? Or are there plans afoot of which we, the public, know nothing? Could the hare-brained scheme for a bridge to France be just a cover? Is the real plan for a tunnel?

As well as being a conspiracy theorist, I have a penchant for disaster movies and sci-fi films, and the more absurd the better.

One example of the latter, dating from 1967, was called ‘Battle Beneath the Earth’. It had the bizarre plot of a renegade Chinese general tunnelling beneath the Pacific to invade the USA.

Are our ministers preparing to foil a similarly dastardly plot by our Gallic neighbours or, more likely, are they laying plans for a hasty exit following the minor election success of the Jersey Democratic Alliance?

With a clean sweep in the people’s republic of St Helier No 2, and a foothold in District No 1 with the election of Trevor Pitman, the anti-establishment champions of the oppressed working classes may be about to ‘kick ass’, as Mr Pitman’s wife so eloquently put it last week. This gung-ho expression is more readily associated with the American military and another of my favourite movies, ‘Top Gun’, than the inmates of Charlie Chuckle’s Laughter Factory.

Deputy Shona Pitman’s intention may be to ape the cartoon character Kick-Ass by adopting the guise of a real-life superhero to save us from the evil deeds of the establishment, or it may simply be a declaration of more fruitless attempts to bring the Island’s government round to the JDA’s way of thinking. The next three years will see if she lives up to her rhetoric or, to adopt her own vernacular, succumbs to ‘crash and burn’.

While the gang of four who comprise the Kick Ass Party erect barricades around their urban stronghold and consider a unilateral declaration of independence, those working out their notice in the Laughter Factory have been hard at it this week after the lengthy election recess.

I have been racking my brain since the polls closed to think of any other parliamentary democracy in which the outgoing politicians are allowed to decide policy after being rejected by the electorate. What a curious state of affairs! It could only exist in our quirky little Crown dependency.

In between debating the Budget, those seeking to be our Chief Minister will be canvassing their peers and promising, if not the world, then empires to build in Education and Health, or poisoned chalices to sup from at Environment and Transport.

It is a sorry state of affairs that when it comes to choosing the most important role in the House, the people have no say whatsoever. That crucial decision, and the Island’s future for the next three years, lies in the hands of just 53 individuals — correction: the four JDA representatives, the Constables’ Mutual Appreciation Society and 37 individuals, 13 of whom don’t even know where to hang their coats. Perhaps Deputy re-elect Phil Rondel will act as father figure and mentor in the cloakroom.

The Island faces a week of political machinations in which, if the more reasoned Members of the House and the most capable candidate are not careful, an outsider or wrecker could pip him at the post. Then where would we be? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Inadvertently flicking to chav television last Saturday gave me an idea to liven up the selection process. I came across a banal programme in which D-celebrities, dressed in attire reminiscent of old sci-fi movies, had to throw themselves at a moving wall. Unfortunately, there was a hole in the wall, and the idea was for each contestant to aim for it and make it safely to the other side.

What an entertaining way to choose the next Chief Minister! The contest could form part of the Fête dé Noué. A moving wall could be set up in the Royal Square and the candidates could each take a running jump at it. After months of intermittent government and uncertainty and far too many elections, we have a new shift in the factory. And just as they get their feet under the table, the House rises for the Christmas recess. What a job! And £40,000 a year to boot.

So what can we look forward to in the New Year? Listening to the successful candidates as they basked in the euphoria of being invested with the public’s trust, a shiver ran down my spine. One after the other they promised to revisit decisions previously debated ad infinitum by the outgoing shift and others before. Come January, it will be Groundhog Day all over again.

What are the odds on there being a new incinerator, a town park, a Waterfront to be proud of or an Islandwide general election day by the end of this shift?