He hasn’t gone away, you know. As I write, the citizens of Jacksonville in Florida are on the fourth evening of a five-night lockdown. In the coming weeks, towns as diverse as Lexington and St Louis will suffer a similar fate. It seems that we may not be immune to such invasions and the associated denim clad infection of wider society.

Garth-gate has returned.

We had a lucky escape this summer when almost 500,000 people showed pre-infection symptoms (they bought tickets) while members of the political class chose to fan the flames by doing their damndest by trying to ensure the initial ticket buying symptoms were upgraded to full blown Garth-itis when the five concerts were cancelled.

We all exhaled a long, slow, breath of relief. He wasn’t going to waddle his way across Croke Park pitch.

It’s been a good week. John O’Shea victorious equaliser helped us to forget it was Budget day. The weather had been unseasonably mild. What could go wrong?

Garth could.

Word has it that Mr Brooks is planning a second assault on us. It sounds smaller – one concert in Dublin at an, as yet, unnamed stadium – but the threat is still there. We will be told about friends in low places running down some thunder road. You get the picture. What’s worse, there may be a parallel epidemic of felt cowboy hats if this second outbreak occurs.

How can we stop this? Like most contagions there is one antidote that is equally dangerous but worth contemplating. Yes, I am thinking of inoculating Dublin with a triple dose of U2 followed by a double Westlife and Boyzone reunion tour. These drastic steps may stem the Brooks tide in both Croke Park and the Aviva. I know this is a high risk strategy but for now we must think the unthinkable. Our civilization is at risk.