The last of these pre-election gab-fests went down with all the aplomb of its forerunners. The streets should now be safe for a few weeks from politicians retailing promises and threats.

Over 4,000 delegates made their way to the Citywest complex in Dublin for the big push to power. That's the official line anyway. Enda will be taoiseach. You'd like to believe them. It's easy to be seduced by the thought that a fresh face with fresh ideas and suitably buffed hair might take the reins. But who could that person be?

On Friday evening, the assembled delegates rose to welcome the great leader, their very own Bertie. The applause began to ripple around the hall, following an introduction from Phil Hogan. And then two councillors from Cork walked in and wondered what they had done to deserve the standing ovation.

Still no sign of Enda. The clapping began to lose its urgency. Where was the great leader? Weren't cockups of this order supposed to be a thing of the past?

Eventually, Enda walked though the door and another false start was behind them.

Crime was the first item out of the starting blocks yesterday. "There is an epidemic, " said Jim O'Keeffe, the toughest minister for justice we've yet to have. The guards aren't equipped to deal with the "flood of crime".

GAA bigwig John Bailey upped the stakes. "There is an epidemic of crime by people out on bail."

Any higher bids? A delegate from Trim threw in his tuppence worth. "If a man kills when he is drunk, he shall hang when he's sober, " says he, the applause ringing in his ear. But the auction wasn't spent yet. Here's a chap on the right to shoot burglars. "Fine Gael in government will give no mercy to people who rob and steal."

Each speaker laced into poor Michael McDowell, at least two of them suggesting he has overseen the epidemic for the past 10 years (McDowell has been minister since 2002). Obviously, they are badly put out that McDowell has stolen their thunder with his latest Criminal Justice Bill.

At the end of the law and order session, it looked for a minute as if the delegates would rush outside, sling a noose around a tree branch, and string up a few passing crims.

Health was next up, and the message was even clearer. Fine Gael will sort out the health service. No, really, they will. It's a promise. And the economy too. World peace is next on the agenda.

Thankfully, there was little in the way of new commitments to bankrupt the country with goodies, as per the prevailing fashion. Instead, old promises were taken out and given a wash and airing.

The whole affair hovered on the brink of boredom before lapsing into full-blown horror.

Nobody told us there would be days like these. Where have all the headbangers gone? Fine Gael ard fheiseanna used to be a magnet for prosperous red-faced farmers and loose cannons. Both species are now thin on the ground at these set-pieces.

For those who did make it, an old cliche was passed around in whispers. Go back to your constituencies and prepare for government. For the greater part, delegates received this instruction precisely in the spirit in which it was delivered. They're still in with a shout, but few are saying it too loudly.