Final Word

Even without a U-turn, Mr Hogan faces some hard questions. It is impossible to say how many households will meet the end-month deadline but it is possible to say it will be significantly fewer than 1.6m. Mr Hogan's - and the government's - embarrassment will be measured by the extent of the shortfall.

Since the household charge is a first step towards a long-overdue property tax, we have no difficulty with its introduction. The Irish tax base is far too narrow and has an excessive emphasis on income. It needs to be broadened. The household charge was supposed to be a dry run for the real thing, so the omens are not propitious.

The International Monetary Fund, which expects a property tax to be introduced in 2013 under the terms of its memorandum of understanding with the state, is surely looking at the current shambles with a mixture of shock and amusement. If there is this much difficulty in organising a payment of €100 from households, what is going to happen when homeowners receive more substantial bills next year, in some cases running into thousands of euros?

The government has nobody to blame but itself. Promotion of the registration charge has been abysmal, with minimal publicity and no coherent explanation as to why the levy is necessary.

It hasn't even been made easy to pay. Ireland fancies itself as a high-tech economy, but the everyday reality for thousands is different. Nevertheless, the Irish public must have access to the internet in order to register and pay the household charge. That requirement excludes a significant cohort of the population. The alternative is to download the form and post off the payment. Again, those without online access are excluded. The third option involves visiting a local authority office. Many would not know where to locate their council office and, even if they did, there is no guarantee they would turn up with the right information since they cannot get on the internet to find out what is required.

The most comprehensive payments system in the country is operated by An Post, a state-owned venture. The failure to involve it from the outset was inexcusable. Older people, particularly those living in rural areas, use post offices to carry out their financial business. As we reported last week, An Post is finally becoming involved in processing the charge, but without a public-information campaign highlighting its role, it looks like a case of too little, too late.

The government's failure to organise a professional campaign has been political manna for the malcontents on the opposition benches - the left, the hard left and the leftovers, as Michael McDowell once memorably described them. Sinn Fein, in particular, has exploited the government's poor performance, inciting fears and encouraging law breaking. It is a deeply cynical stance since, one way or another, the hold-outs will eventually be forced to pay up.

It should never have come to this. Enda Kenny, after some ribbing, abandoned his stated plan to publish report cards on the performance of his ministers. He might, however, make an exception for Mr Hogan.

Flirty tyrant who slaughters his people

Release of emails offering a glimpse into the private life of the Assads is both illuminating and embarrassing for the Syrian dictator and his wife. They are illuminating in revealing that even as President Bashar al-Assad was authorising the mass murder of his own citizens, life in the Assad household went on in a routine and humdrum way. Dictators have always tried to compartmentalise their lives. Hitler favoured an exaggerated domesticity, taking tea with friends. Stalin relaxed in his dacha on the Black Sea. The private lives of mass murderers have often been banal.

For the Assads, however, and particularly for the president's British-born wife Asma, normality meant serious internet shopping. In January and February, as the official killings accelerated, Mrs Assad was in contact with a Paris boutique over the €32,000 purchase of a chandelier of "lustre confusion" design, two expensive candlesticks and other items of furniture.

Whether she broke EU sanctions in doing so remains to be seen, though that would be the least of the crimes of this appalling regime. President Assad, assuming the emails are genuine, has a fondness for the latest electronic gizmos. Like most people's inboxes, his contains its fair share of jokes. It also has exchanges showing he was keeping up with his daily exercises. Even more embarrassing for him, there is a photo of a scantily clad woman who is not his wife and some messages of undying love and affection from various women. The emails have provided light relief in what remains a terrible situation in Syria. Yesterday brought news of bombings in Damascus, with the death toll at 27.

Kofi Annan, the former United Nations secretary general, is struggling manfully to make progress with his Syrian mission, describing the response of the Assad regime as disappointing. So it is likely to remain, as long as Russia and China support it on the UN Security Council.

We can laugh at the Assads and their silly gilded existence and their internet shopping. We can have fun at their embarrassment and the banality of their evil. But the suffering they are inflicting on the people of Syria is far from being a laughing matter.

Friendly fire

Haven't companies learnt anything about the danger of bossing customers around in the social-media age? The latest firm to try this is Starbucks. In an irritating attempt to appear more friendly, the coffee chain is asking Irish customers to give their names while ordering drinks. (So expect long delays if you're queuing behind any members of the Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax family who happen to be in formal mood, or anybody from Newtownmountkennedy who decides to throw in their address as well.) In this matter, the comedian Arthur Smith speaks for us all. "I am not looking to make friends when I go into a coffee shop," he says. "I just want a drink."

Starbucks is facing a campaign of civil disobedience. Customers might give false names, even introducing themselves as Miss Skinny Latte or "one of the Hampshire Moccachinos". On a website called Give A False Name To Starbucks, an American claims he introduced himself as Lord Voldemort. When his coffee arrived, the cup read in Harry Potter style: "He Who Must Not Be Named".