It would be easy to say that it’s
done now, but that would be lying and would make one no better than our elected
officials. The truth though, is that it never really started, let alone having
the potential to be finished while any of the major players draw breath on this
mortal plane.
Yes, Australia had an election, but
no one really noticed and could not be blamed for their ambivalence given the
last decade of voting for one smiling fool only for them to be replaced by
another one without a general election. It’s a dark day when one longs for the
stability of a Howard/Costello Government and that bone chilling reality is
only compounded when you consider that those born in the eighties had, at most,
four Prime Ministers until their mid-twenties.
Since Two Thousand and Seven –
depending on how you count it – we’ve had five or six. We used to mock Italy
for such figures but now they laugh at us and Matt Canavan is reconsidering his
options regarding ancestral citizenship.
Meanwhile, The English (who are so
inept, they can’t even get round to Brussels to pick up their shit and move out
of Europe) beat us at the cricket world cup, did better than us at the football
world cup and will probably wipe the floor with us at the rugby world cup.
Things are definitely looking dire, at least we still had netball, until The
Kiwis pinched it.
While Australia was ignoring its
own internal political machinations and accidentally voted for a bloke who not
only supports the Cronulla Sharks and honestly believes that he is the funniest
man in the room (always), we lost sight of our old mate Donald.
Temporarily losing ones’ senses
after overdosing on political slogans is nothing new and something you should
not be afraid of if you are otherwise of sound mind. For those more susceptible
to advertising, I would suggest voting for the other one. It doesn’t matter
which one -- I don’t care, it’s your choice – just consider that whomever you
choose on the basis of their party’s promises will either fail to deliver it or
it won’t make your life any better even if they do.
Trumps relevance becomes apparent
here. A man that promised everything yet delivered nothing is indicative as to
how effective a phrase that Lizard People in the advanced stages of Dementia
can memorise and teach their minions to repeat ad nauseum in order to get their
orange arse into The Oval Office.
To be honest I can’t see why
Hillary tried it on it the first place. Think about it. She’d already lived in
The White House for eight years, it’d kind of be like moving back in with your
parents. Compound that with the fact that her office would be the place where her
husband used to be serviced by a fame hungry intern and it just seems a little odd.
Anyways, The Democrats screwed Twenty Sixteen royal by not picking Sanders
because Bernie Twenty Twenty has about as much chance of success as Scomo’s
precious Sharks winning another premiership before The PM restarts the
reincarnation cycle from the bottom. A Wobbygong seems appropriate.
In fact, on deeper consideration,
most politicians will come back as some form of scavenging carrion eater.
Either that or something that looks good on a post card, like a cockatoo, but
when you have to deal with the noise and damage to property they cause, stop
being so attractive. It’s obvious what animals many politicians will be reborn
as. Hyenas and rats feature prominently with a few snakes thrown in the mix,
(not a carrion feeder but generally hated or feared globally) and of course
Lizard People like Abbott will fade from public view before shedding their skin
to assume a new life as President of The Young Liberals at The University of
New South Wales. Slowly, over many decades, they will work their way back to
the top. Of this we can be assured.
Most concerning to the keen
observer is the political rebirth of everyone’s favourite Hobbit, Malcolm “The
Ringburner” Roberts. Like most who take more than a passing interest in
Politics, I love the little scamp. Almost voted for him thirteenth on The
Ballot but didn’t want to jinx his chances so left the box empty and was
rewarded with six years of education as to how the empirical evidence regarding
climate change can only be found at Isengard and Gandalf needs to go speak with
Saruman.
On hearing this, Pat Dodson is
reported as muttering under his breath, “Piss off. I’ve seen that movie. No
one’s trapping me on top of a bloody tower in the freezing rain before I have
to jump on a giant eagle. Bugger that. I hate heights. Just looking for another
excuse to lock a blackfella up”. And with that, he stalked off in the direction
of Ken Wyatt’s office to see why The Minister is promising to deliver a
Referendum on Constitutional Recognition when his own party can’t even agree on
it in principle.
Meanwhile in the green halls of
power, Chief Orc Dutton stopped gnawing on a thigh bone for while when he was
reminded of the Coalition majority in the Lower House, “Repeal Medevac” he
ordered his minions. Before scurrying off one had the temerity to ask on what
grounds they should base the bill. “Science,” he growled “No empirical evidence,
that’ll get Pauline’s Clan on board. Tell Centre Alliance we’ll do something
for South Australia. Do the same for that Tasmanian Devil and we won’t have to
worry about The Druids or The Communists”. This is how the mind of a man who
grew up in Joh’s Queensland and still wanted to be a cop works. No wonder he saw
nothing wrong with being a Trustee of a Trust that received Government money
while sitting in Parliament. There’s nothing wrong with getting paid twice,
just look at Pyne and Bishop, nothing to see here people, everything’s above
board.
As Dutton was having his moment of
clarity, Pyne and Bishop were on the phone to their successors giving them a
few tips on how the portfolio works and to call any time they needed some
advice, and Scomo had marched his troops to Dubbo pursued hotly by Albo’s
Legion.
They gathered under Scomo’s Big
Blue Cross of Evangelical Politics and Albo’s Red Hammer of The Worker to trade
barbs in front of Farmers and Graziers who are sick of bullshit talk and want
some leadership on the issue. The assembled throng rubbed their eyes in frustration
as both leaders agreed to not do anything once again. Both sides blamed the
other on stage and things were kept quite civil, as you would expect, but
behind the scenes, things are said to have become very hostile.
After the Warlords’ dismissed their
troops and left in a cloud of dust that choked the people they had come to
disappoint, rumours started to circulate in the strongholds of the major
parties of an ever increasing number of skirmishes backstage and in the town
that escalated in violence as the summit progressed. One Young Liberal who got
lost and ended up in the safe Labor seat of Griffith told me his account when I
bailed him up and threatened to out him when he walked into The Pub to ask for
directions. He was shaking like a dog tied outside in the winter rain when he
reached for a straw. “Yeah, who likes turtles anyway, right?”. My attempt to
lighten the mood fell flat but he started talking, mainly gibberish at first,
policies, why Labor couldn’t understand, how The Greens wanted to let
terrorists in because they’re from the desert and we have lots and it’s getting
bigger but he got around to it.
“Crucifixions” he whispered it, his
pulse had finally slowed, “They were crucifying people”. Calling bullshit on
his story he got agitated again. According to this alleged eyewitness Young
Labor had been stalking the streets of Dubbo in gangs, pouncing on unwary Young
Libs and Nats returning to their lodgings after two light beers and a meal at
the RSL.
“We were walking past a church, and
they were just there. One woman -- she was in charge -- walked up and said the
cross was missing a corpse. She asked us who was a Christian, we all put our
hands up, but John stepped forward and took his cross out. Out of nowhere these
two guys that looked like young John Setkas’ grabbed him and held him to the
cross and the woman stood on their shoulders so she could nail his hands to the
wood, she had a copy of Das Kapital jammed in his mouth and kept saying ‘The
hammer of the worker will set you free’. We tried to tell her Jesus was a
carpenter but one of the Setkas’ said ‘He wasn’t in a fuckin’ union’”.
After that the Young Liberal
descended into a rant about corruption on building sites, so an Ambulance was
called and arrived just as he was starting to foam at the mouth. Though not
convinced, I was interested enough to ask the next Anarchist I saw if there was
any truth to the tale. “I heard it was three”. He seemed pretty confident even
though he’d been in Brisbane Watch House during the conference. “They put two
Nats’ up as the thieves. Catholic Labor took the corpses down and paid off the
witnesses. Wasn’t just one-sided though, The Libs rounded up a bunch of
lesbians and sent to re-education camps to get the gay out of them”.
And now the halls in Canberra are
full again. Two weeks of point scoring over policy before Scomo buggers off to
subjugate himself before Sauron. It’s my opinion but I think The Ringburner
would be a better choice for this mission but because he can’t get
bi-partisanship on anything Scomo has to go himself. If Constitutional
Recognition for Indigenous Australians is realised, Pat Dodson might go and
speak to Saruman and find out that after the movies finished, Sauron upped shop
to the US and the only way to fix climate change is to throw Malcolm’s Ring in
Trump’s tanning bed.
At least The Ashes start soon.
