"The camera never lies." Now there's a redundant cliché. The camera frequently lies and in this post-digital age, can seldom be trusted. Especially when it comes to politics. Just look at the election posters: all those huge inflated heads and not a blemish in sight. Politicians being strung up on lamp-posts shouldn't look this good.

Occasionally, the political camera lets its guard down and tells the truth. The expression on former spin doctor Frank Dunlop's face last Tuesday wasn't the result of a touch-up. No one had digitally enhanced that look of fear as he entered court for sentencing.

It was a powerful image. Here was the man with the brown envelopes who facilitated Dublin's debasement by grubby little men with greasy fingers. Here was the property developers' bagman who helped undermine our faith in democracy and, ultimately, lead us here to Nama-land. Here he was, brought down and about to be jailed.

Now consider another picture. It's of a grey-haired man with a pale, worn face. If it's been airbrushed, then they missed a line or two. It's smiling but is tough and not to be messed with. The eyes, however, betray sensitivity as they stare down from the lamp-post near the Dáil. Writer Mannix Flynn, former bête noire, is running for a seat on the same council that Dunlop bought off in the 1990s.

While Dunlop enjoyed a life of money and influence, Flynn spent most of his suffering. He was a slum boy, destined to be crushed by the authorities. At the age of three he had been singled out as "trouble" by a state-paid psychiatrist. How can a three-year-old be "trouble?"

By 14 he had run the gauntlet of industrial schools, including Letterfrack, where he was tortured for two years. For all his adult life he has railed outside the institutions of the state that helped scar him. Now he is looking for the chance to effect change from within.

On Wednesday he spoke to Newstalk's Eamon Keane about the Ryan report into child abuse. It was a compelling piece of radio: brutally honest, intelligent, angry and sad. His message is that he wants to bring accountability to local office and give hope to the "disenfranchised". It's hard to doubt his credentials.

His ideas won't be to everybody's taste. For example, he suggests a pilot scheme for the controlled distribution of heroin to addicts. This won't ever happen, but at least he's stirring up debate. That's his strength: making a difference by challenging the status quo.

There are others like him. In my own home patch of Dun Laoghaire, Richard Boyd Barrett has taken permanent residence up the nose of the establishment. In 2005, he was at the helm when residents from all backgrounds 'blockaded' the local Baths. The council had agreed a €140m private development plan to build apartments on the site. The march stopped the deal and won the leftist Boyd Barrett many admirers in the traditionally Fine Gael area.

Labour councillor Jane Dillon Byrne later requested that double glazing be installed in the council chamber – to keep out the noise of his protesters.

All across the country there are decent candidates like these two, favouring community over clientelism. In fairness, they are not all independents and some are suffering for that preference. Dun Laoghaire's Fianna Fáil councillor Cormac Devlin is widely respected as hardworking and conscientious. He has also been critical of issues such as Minister Mary Hanafin's scrapping of the Christmas welfare bonus. No surprise then that Hanafin is trying to shaft him in favour of her personal assistant, Peter O'Brien. More Fianna Fáil cronyism overriding the interests of the people.

According to a Newstalk poll last week, only 0.5% said they would vote for a candidate because his/her family was involved in politics. Dynastic politics – and by extension cronyism – is out of fashion. Hanafin, take note.

On a daily basis, we discover more about how our government has been mismanaged. At local level as well as national. In my own area, the council was so inept that for a seven-month period in 2006, not one single motion was debated. The entire system needs shaking up.

When we go to polls on Friday we have a unique opportunity. We can make this more than a de facto referendum by setting aside party politics and choosing candidates genuinely committed to the greater good. We can throw out the nod-and-wink merchants who will try to buy us off with personal favours and then do dodgy deals with developers. This is a real chance to rip the weeds of cronyism out of local politics. This is a chance to make local government the training ground for national government, where we can nurture change from the ground up.

We need to encourage mavericks like Mannix Flynn. They can help rescue us from the cynicism created by Frank Dunlop's political crimes. Next weekend, we can replace that picture of the broken bagman entering court with another – a snapshot of our generation pulling itself away from the past.

There may be another picture too. Of a decent man, crucified by church and state, picking up his cross – and successfully battering down the door of City Hall with it.

dkenny@tribune.ie