The Ancient Greeks used to poison them and Stalin used to “liquidate” them, but in this country we put satirists on The Late Late Show and tell them how wonderful they are. Satire, the act of holding people, places and things up to ridicule and derision, should always be carried out with an intent to bring about improvement – which says a lot about Dermot Morgan, a lot about our politicians and a lot about ourselves.

Known as the third-oldest profession (behind prostitution and espionage), satire’s rugged entertainment has been deliver – over the years by means of poetry, fable and reportage, but present day satire (invariably political in nature) has been shaped and formed by two highly influential television programmes of the Sixties – That Was The Week That Was in Britain and Rowan And Martin’s Laugh-In in the US. Derivatives such as Spitting Images and Morgan’s radio show Scrap Saturday, both very popular, use the age-old techniques of parody, irony and dramatic exaggeration and follow the just-as-ancient edict that “not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter”.

The problems besetting satirists such as Dermot Morgan are however, modern in ligature. People don’t think they have “arrived” unless they hake been “done” by him (the contents of what Morgan says doesn’t seem to bother them, long as they’re name-checked). Furthermore, the satirist criticising from a lofty position can easily become just another person on a bar-stool venting spleen about whatever comes to hand.

“I really can’t do anything about the fact that some of the people I’ve criticised on radio have actually enjoyed it,” Morgan says, “but I do believe that some people, like Padraig Flynn, suffered more than others. That said, someone like Haughey almost seemed to prosper from the Machiavellian image we gave him but that’s because some people admire that trait in others – that is beyond my control.”

His new show, Jobs For The Boys (at the Tivoli Theatre from September 20th to October 2nd) is two hours of stand-up intermingled with sketches. Named after the Labour Party’s very sensible idea of giving jobs to their immediate family, he is adamant that it is not the stage version of Scrap Saturday. “It’s not just about the Government, it’s about how we conduct our affairs in this country. There’s been a number of episodes I’ve missed out on because Scrap Saturday was taken off the air in December ’91 so things like Ben Dun no and the Telecom property affair are too far back to comment upon, but things like The Lawyer And The Shelbourne will get a run-out.”

He thinks Irish people have a “huge appetite” for satire, and with this in mind he remains ever vigilant-that his humour is dished out in equal proportions: left/right, urban/rural, rich/poor. So more jokes about travellers, then? “I think that irreverence can be applied to most people and things – there was certainly no element of tokenism involved when spoke about travellers, it was part of the general irreverence.

Neither a Clontarf Castle comedian nor a Comedy Cellar comedian, he has had to create his own comedic space and frequent battles with RTE people over the nature and production of his comedy have left him more than a bit war-weary.

“I’m working with Gerry Stembridge on a sitcom for Channel 4, it’s a project in development as they say, but that’s for another day, there’s enough to be getting on with around here at the moment”.

You would feel sorry for the man. All he has for his raw material is a pitiful array of politicians, journalists and what passes for celebrities in this country out of this he has to fashion a comedy show. Dermot Morgan’s new show, Jobs For The Boys is in reality Scrap Saturday revisited with the same old sad individuals dragged out for another flogging.

Morgan has his – favourites and they are all here in abundance: the senator who wears a wig, the backwoods politician, the opinion journalist and the man who used to be Taoiseach. All of them leave me cold: they belong to a different reality, a reality that I can’t or possibly won’t comprehend. This has nothing to do with Dermot Morgan and the people who find him funny (and there are many) but is more a reflection of what I look for and am edified by-in comedy.

He started with some straight stand-up (and displayed some lovely touches here) but at all times he seems bedevilled by the fact that a joke must be built up brick by brick and then demolished by a punch-line. If he just let himself talk for a while and plunder his comic mind for something fresh and original instead off constantly seeking out traditional targets for his humour, we would have more of a measure of the man.

It was surprising to hear a comedian, who because of the nature of his work bases a certain amount of his comedy on the headlines, to spend time talking about the Pope’s visit to Ireland and exhuming Charles Haughey from his political grave. Eamon Dunphy (as a car park attendant), Michael Noonan (as Bono) and Padraig Flynn (as a French schoolteacher) all got a run out but the acerbic touches here were blunted by familiarity.

The show’s theatrical touches work well; Morgan is a seasoned live performer who knows-how to keep his comedy vehicle jostling along at a high gags-per-minute speed. It is difficult though, if not fatuous, to review something that has been reviewed before in acres of newsprint. You know where you-stand with this show, be that a compliment or a criticism.