Micheál Ó Muircheartaigh blew the whistle on his RTé career last Sunday, hopefully calling time on the endless tributes along with it. Ó Muircheartaigh himself must have been getting embarrassed by it all.

On the day he announced his retirement, for instance, Seán O'Rourke interviewed RTé director general Cathal Goan about him at length on the News at One. One RTé presenter talks about another RTé presenter with the head of RTé on an RTé news programme. This is a bit much – a bit RTé – even when it's for someone as fabulous as Micheál Ó Muircheartaigh (and anyone who has ever met him will agree that he warms the very air around himself with his goodness).

Meanwhile, another seasoned old-school broadcaster also took his leave of RTé last weekend and nobody made half enough fuss. Brendan Balfe told reporters that he had been informed by RTé that there was "no place for him in the schedules", which seems not only unjust but baffling.

What is there, exactly, in the RTé schedules that is keeping out Brendan Balfe? Without even taking the trouble to apply yourself to the question, it is immediately clear that there are at least half-a-dozen hours in the RTé week that would be improved no end by Balfe's reassuring presence. But there you are. Brendan Balfe goes, Val Joyce goes (no, I'm still not over it, thank you for asking), and we get to keep Derek Mooney.

Speaking of awkward choices, the BBC's David Edmonds visited West Point military academy in New York and found trainee soldiers studying philosophy there. All West Point cadets now study moral philosophy, a rather surprised Edmonds told From Our Own Correspondent. (This must be among the lessons of Abu Ghraib.)

Specifically, they consider the so-called "trolley problem". A runaway tram is heading for five people tied to the track; you, a bystander, can flick a switch to divert the tram down another track that has only one person tied to it. A right-thinking soldier flicks the switch – the greater good and all that. But what if you're watching a runaway tram from a bridge, and the only way to save the five people is to push a fat man off the bridge? He will stop the tram, but he will die. (The possibility of throwing yourself in front of the tram is not mooted; that day is gone in the western world.)

The right-thinking soldiers at West Point don't think you should push the fat man, even to save five lives, Edmonds reported. This didn't seem altogether convincing. What if the five were Americans, for instance, and the fat man was a no-good towelhead? What if there was one Israeli tied to the track and you had five fat Iranians to choose from on the bridge? Shouldn't you push all five of them over, just to make absolutely sure of securing the Israeli's future happiness?

Or what if the five were important businesspeople with a "significant retail presence" in Dublin and the fat man was a methadone addict? This might give ethical pause to Dublin mayor Gerry Breen, but not for long. In fact, as mayor, Breen might like to consider introducing a new metropolitan public holiday: Push an Indigent Person in Front of the Luas Day.

Breen told Matt Cooper on Tuesday's The Last Word that he wants the government to push through legislation allowing gardaí to move beggars on. They shouldn't be allowed within 10 metres of a business premises. (The spending of money is a completely different practice to the giving of alms, under Breen's peculiar moral code, and must remain so.) "Move them on where?" asked Cooper, not unreasonably. 'Back to their gilded palaces' was the gist of the answer, as far as I could make out.

Breen also wants drug addicts moved to the suburbs. I don't see the suburbs being too happy about that. He said: "What we should do is we should drill down their drug maintenance programme to the lowest point." Do you understand what he means there? No, me neither. Move over Sarah Palin, you've got company.