Kicking off the first show of an already traumatic new year, Ray DArcy strikes a disconcertingly sanguine note. As he admits on Mondays programme (The Ray DArcy Show, RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), things are confusing, what with the grim news of skyrocketing infections and fresh restrictions tempered by the promise of a vaccine. (And this before American democracy implodes on Wednesday.) But the presenter has the answer to our current woes.
Soup will solve all your problems, he says confidently. I think soup is whats going to define lockdown number three. 
Beyond the fact that were all in the soup again, it seems like a flippant assertion. But DArcy is clearly sincere in his devotion to the dishs comforting qualities, if not necessarily its ability to end the pandemic. He lists off his production staffs favourite broths with audible relish, from laksa (Sounds like something that would do damage on the downside) to leek and potato, before it all becomes too much for him. I want to be home now with a bowl of soup in front of me, he says rhapsodically. 
By this stage, some may find themselves agreeing with the hosts wish: even allowing for the slim pickings that traditionally pass as radio fare in January, this seems like thin gruel indeed. But somehow, DArcys idea gains traction. Not only do many listeners text in their own favourites, but celebrity chef Rachel Allen phones in after DArcy issues an on-air request for an elusive recipe for Mediterranean soup. 
So pleased is the presenter with the reaction that he announces a soup of the day slot, which culinary luminaries such as Kevin Dundon and Lily Higgins duly fill as the week progresses. DArcy himself promises to cook a different variety and bring it into the studio each day, with producer Niamh Hassell passing judgment on the results. In keeping with the spirit of the enterprise, the verdicts are benign, with the hosts minestrone deemed a hug in a flask. 
This is mightily flimsy stuff, more suited to local radio or a podcast rather than a high-profile show on the national broadcaster. But, against the odds, it works, at least on its own whimsical terms.
As well as providing daft distraction and unlikely comfort, it also allows DArcy the opportunity to recall moments from his poor upbringing, from eating tinned corned beef to piling great coats on his bed for warmth on cold nights. Such memories are relayed in a spirit of self-deprecating amusement rather than Proust-lite pretension, but are revealing in their own way. 
Even when the reality of the reimposed lockdown intrudes, it arrives in the agreeable form of Prof Luke ONeill, who is amiable and accessible as DArcy quizzes him with straightforward but pertinent questions. The interview pulls off the trick of being factual and clear-eyed about the situation, yet somehow exuding an optimistic air. 
None of this represents a change of direction for DArcys show. It still seems like something of a grab-bag of items, some personal, some vaguely topical, many simply frivolous, but all delivered in casually light-hearted spirit, in theory anyway. But on this occasion, DArcys formula gels; if not chicken soup for the soul, then at least cup-a-soup for the tired mind.
Theres much to feel weary about, not least how the matter of school closures is handled by Government figures. On Monday, with Covid numbers rising ominously, Minister of State for Special Education Josepha Madigan affects an air of unreal calm as in detached from reality when interviewed by Philip Boucher-Hayes, the guest host on Today with Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). 
Madigan starts by making the important distinction that the schools havent been closed, but rather the holidays have been extended. Isnt that splitting hairs? the host asks, noting the salient fact is that children arent in school. 
This exchange sets the tone of what follows. The Minister repeatedly asserts that schools will reopen on the basis of the information she has, while her host constantly asks whether they should stay closed on the basis of the information possessed by the dogs in the street. (For the record, Boucher-Hayes actually says that Madigans stance is based on test and trace evidence that you can no longer stand over, but the effect is much the same.) 
Why not acknowledge the possibility that there is an increasing likelihood the schools will not reopen? the presenter finally asks in exasperation. I cannot say thats theres an increasing likelihood, when thats not the information I have, comes the Dalek-like reply.
Its a telling interview. One appreciates that Ministers cant make up policy on the fly, but slavishly adhering to a rigid line doesnt inspire confidence that a supple response to the crisis is forthcoming.
Even when the Government bows to the inevitable and the schools remain largely closed, a similarly recalcitrant theme marks Minister for Education Norma Foleys appearance on The Hard Shoulder (Newstalk, weekdays). Asked by host Kieran Cuddihy to outline the logistics of keeping classrooms open for Leaving Cert students, the Minister responds that how schools implement the measure is entirely up to themselves. But her less-than-assured tone makes this sound less like the professed degree of autonomy than an exercise in buck-passing.
The back-of-an-envelope impression isnt helped by Foleys chronic evasiveness as Cuddihy inquires if the Minister asked chief medical officer Dr Tony Holohan about the Leaving Cert measure. She replies that there was a full discussion about reducing mobility and classroom safety, but doesnt answer the question.
After much ministerial sophistry, Cuddihy jumps to the logical conclusion: Its quite obvious you didnt ask Tony Holohan. In response, Foley upbraids her host: Youre misunderstanding what Im communicating to you. 
Once again the effect is dispiriting. Instead of saying the Government has taken a calculated political risk on a crucial matter, the Minister seems more intent on backside-covering than forward thinking. Unlike DArcys soupy efforts, it doesnt sound like a recipe for success.
On Wednesday morning, Mario Rosenstocks gently satirical Gift Grub slot (on the Ian Dempsey Show, Today FM) carries a sketch about celebrity keep fit apps. Its aimed at mocking those futile new year resolutions, but turns out to be timely too.
Rosenstock does an impression of Donald Trump hawking a fitness app, which has unique features when it comes to calculating your daily steps: If you dont like the number or the number is fake, simply change the number, Rosenstocks Trump says. I need to find 11,800 more steps, recalculate. Likewise, the imaginary app can adjust body weight. If you do not like the number, simply shout stop the count. It will be clear that the inner workings of the machine have been hijacked and tampered with.
Its mildly amusing, though the sketchs final line Recommended only for delusional despots is grimly prescient. When the US capitol is stormed by Trump supporters later in the day, its not funny any more, merely accurate.