from at least February 1984 to July 1986, see Our Father pp. 112–8

Father Ted has a confession to make. “I’m a long since lapsed Catholic,” he reveals, “and my religion is football.

LONDON An Irish radio commercial featuring an actor impersonating US President Reagan has been dropped to avoid upsetting listeners.

At the end of our meal, Dermot Morgan asks the waitress for a coffee. “Right away, Father,” replies the starry-eyed woman. Morgan smiles at her with the patient indulgence of the priest he isn’t.

MN: You could almost be Welsh with a name like Morgan.

On Tuesday week last, RTÉ’s Network 2 was due to screen – after the 10.30 news and weather – the first edition of Newshounds, a new satirical comedy series from the Scrap Saturday merchants, Dermot Morgan and Gerry Stembridge. The duo were to feature as writers and performers, and former Nighthawks star Ann Marie Hourihane was to have a central comic role. But the show never went out: it was pulled and replaced with a filler called Yum, Yum, Yum – “a celebration of Cajun and Creole cooking in Louisiana”.

Funnyman Dermot Morgan will forever be grateful to Father Ted.

A television studio, somewhere near Waterloo. A young man, in clerical collar and odious pullover, is tippytoeing around a set that purports to represent a deep cave, some 15m years old, in which he is trapped. And he is singing – solo, a cappella and at the top of his voice – Bohemian Rhapsody. “Scaramouch!” he bellows. “Scaramouch! Will you do the fandango?” … Sorry? What do you mean, why? You might as well ask why two dozen bunny rabbits suddenly materialise in the living room of a homely parochial house and nobody finds it peculiar. Why is because we are here to record an episode of Father Ted, the most surreal situation comedy to be screened since British television’s year dot.

Sir, I genuinely welcome Michael Commins’s remarks concerning my designation of Albert Reynolds. His right to dissent is paramount. I could assuage him by, pointing out the tongue­incheek nature of the remarks and the ironic spin on them. It scarcely matters either way. You like the joke or you don’t. Comedy can be notoriously subjective. Longford people contemplating a fatwah might ring RTÉ for advice.

Politicians take themselves too seriously, the comedian Dermot Morgan said yesterday. He was responding to criticism of his television sketch in which he described the former Taoiseach, Mr Albert Reynolds, as a “Longford knacker”.

Angry Father Ted star Dermot Morgan has vowed to continue his battle of words with the Catholic Church.

Just one week ago I interviewed Dermot Morgan at the launch of his third and sadly final series of Father Ted.

That would certainly seem to be the policy in RTÉ, where the hugely successful Scrap Saturday was ditched and Extra Extra promoted as A GREAT IDEA. Widely considered Ireland’s most talented and controversial comedian, Dermot Morgan has suffered more than most in a climate where safety remains the bottom line. Here he talks about Teasey and Haughey, Bishop Casey’s bedroom habits, Chris de Burgh’s ladies in bed, the loves Labour have lost in government and what makes a legitimate target – along the way excoriating RTÉ for their unwillingness to take even the slightest risk in the cause of decent comedy. Interview: Joe Jackson.

“I have great sympathy for hookers,” says Dermot Morgan. “It’s like, ‘you’re on after the meal – and we want head as well.”