ScoMo in the land of The Great Duke Kahanamoku

Comrades,

There is nothing wrong with Prime Ministers taking a holiday. Nothing at all. Everyone needs to be sensible from time to time, just ask the Leave Work On Time Society. I remember the late great Tim Fischer telling me off-the-record while I was working as an on-the-road radio reporter that he absolutely loved the Xmas Holidays. Not because of Lil' Honest John decamping to his holiday shack at Hawks Nest up there Nelson Bay way, and Tim, by default becoming Acting Prime Minister. Oh no. He loved it because "Boree Creek became the nerve centre of the nation for a fortnight". He told of his delight at running the nation from a caravan parked out the back of his block there, and how he had to get the techs in from the PMG Dept. to run a two-strand copper telephone wire to it and connect it to a dial-up handset, while he wheeled out an old diesel generator from a shed someplace and tricked up a jury-rig to power the lights, regardless of the fact that electricity is dangerous. A notepad and some pencils, and that's all he needed. No staff required. Oh, how he larfed his head off telling that yarn.

So it may merit some comment in passing on ScoMo's sojourn to the Happy Isles of Hawai'i. And why not? I have always wanted to go there, if only because if Darwin ever found it, it would have put the Galapagos Islands in the shade, as about 90% of the flora & fauna are endemic to the former Sandwich Islands. So when you go there, almost everything to see you've never seen before. A whole new world in a tropical idyll. Brilliant! The outer islands of this 1500 mile chain are best to see Mother Nature in all her glory of course, but who could resist the delights of a six-star hotel pool at Waikiki, knocking back Mai Tais from here to breakfast on a banana lounge? Or maybe pop on over to the The Banzai Pipeline for a day of sports action? If only the late great Midget Farrelly was still the surfing Champion of the World in the land of The Great Duke Kahanamoku. How good was Midget? How good was The Duke? So, quite obviously, the 50th Great State of the Union has a lot going for it. And besides, the Hon. Morrison could tell the Hawaiian Tourism Authority exactly where they are going wrong in their tourist promotions, while looking very fetching; shirtless, with a lei hung around his neck and tastefully draped over his rather attractive man boobs.

Most of the outrage on yr Soshul Meejah was fairly droll. Tik Tok was chock full of people going right off their tits in 30 second grabs, and calling ScoMo all sorts of very rude names. I should know, because I am a huge fan of Tik Tok. It was the most downloaded Soshul Meejah app in the world last year, and it beats Facecrook hands down for hours of mindless scrolling, if you are into that sort of thing. Not that I'd even know how to scroll through Prince Zuck's trash, having never signed up for it and having no intention of ever doing so. And as Our Great and Glorious Leader was being relentlessly harangued as a cruel heartless bastard who was contemplating his belly button under a swaying palm tree while the country burned, it wasn't lost on me that Tik Tok is run out of Beijing, and is owned 100% and staffed entirely by people from China, where Tik Tok itself is very conveniently banned. How good is soft diplomacy?

Perhaps the main point to come out of all this brou-ha-ha is ScoMo's utter lack of ability to even comprehend the simple concept of Leadership. To him it's like "the concept of North"; entirely abstract. Never mind dozens of Australians being boiled alive in some volcano off the coast of the Shakey Isles, Scotty just doesn't grasp the time-honoured world-wide tradition of national leaders returning from overseas quick smart to deal with any National Crisis/Emergency. Oh no, it takes two volunteer firefighters to die at the front before ScoMo is distracted enough from his cocktail with a little umbrella in it to try to "find a way home as quickly as possible". And even then he wasn't quick about it at all. Tardy, actually. I mean, really, how many cattle-class non-stop eleven-hour flights depart daily from Honolulu bound for Sydney at this time of year? In the unlikely event they were all fully loaded, surely Qantas could've found a spot for him on the dicky-seat? He was probably waiting for that precious upgrade to first class he'd get using all those frequent flier points he accrues by jetting about on RAAF ONE. ScoMo, as a matter of principle, would never take the Thunberg route and return home by sea, given the wind powered sailing time at an average of ten knots from Hawai'i to Port Jackson is 83 days. That said, plenty of people, especially lurking plotters and back-stabbers in the Liberal Party, would have wished he had. In the meantime, DJ Albo is out there manning the BBQ cooking up bacon and eggs for the firies while very sensibly not getting all hot and bothered on the moral high ground, when he had every right to.

Everybody knows our dear Prime Minister is a crass clueless beer swilling slob from The Shire who has an uncanny ability to roll about on the floor while speaking in tongues; nothing new about that and it's beside the point, as are his holidays. ScoMo can only thank his miraculous return to power in the last exercise in the Miracle of Democracy on the fact that "people hate change". He just happened, by complete accident, to be the Big Cheese at the top of the tree of the party that won the election. This vacuum-like vacancy of any kind of Leadership is just another serious character flaw to add to a very long list. Just ask Mr Trundle, he'll tell you. And now the PM leads a Do Nothing Government. It suggests it's only a matter of time before he farks up something so spectacularly that it's fatal to his political career. May that day come sooner rather than later, so ScoMo can scuttle his way back to the obscurity from whence he came with his primate-like tail between his legs.

the dotard has no clothes

Comrades.

No one likes to hear what people are saying about you behind yr back. Especially spoilt children. So, it was no surprise at all to see DJ Trump! chuck a world class tanty, after a "hot mic" caught NATO leaders bagging the him from here to breakfast. [Just a word of advice here chaps, having worked in the electronic media for decades, Rule No.1 is "the microphone is always open" and there is always some sky bastard rolling a tape over it at the other end of the wire]. How would you react to snide remarks about you? Well, all course you would call What Would Justin Do a "two-faced-cunt", and after getting all lovey-dovey with the Kid President during the Bastille Day celebrations in Paris earlier in the year, the one-sided unrequited bromance is over. Of all the NATO/EU leaders, Macron is perhaps the one who hates The Donald's guts the most. DJ! had an astonishing 38 minute press conference with Macron. When he asked the Kid what France was doing about ISIS and Macron made a perfectly sensible reply in his perfectly good English, he got the response from the rude unruly infant in the White House "no wonder he is a successful politician, that's the best non-answer I've ever heard!" The "you are beneath my contempt" look on Emmanuel's face was priceless. ISIS shimish. This from a freak who apparently wants to invite the murderous leaders of the Taliban to Camp David to sort out the Afghanistan question once and for all for his own personal glory. The last POTUS to use Camp David for peace talks was ol' Jimmy Carter who proudly announced that peace had come at last to the Israelis and Palestinians, and look how far they've gone down that road...40 years on. But perhaps the last word should be left to the North Koreans, who have taken exception to The Donald once again using the expression "Little Rocket Man" to describe Fat Boy Kim. If he does it again, they are going to resume calling him a "dotard". The exact quote from North Korean State Media is "if any language and expressions stoking the atmosphere of confrontation are used once again ... that must really be diagnosed as the relapse of the dotage of a dotard.” It's such a lovely word I had to look it up in my copy of the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. Dotard. n. an old person, especially one who has become physically weak or whose mental faculties have declined.

The Leader of the Free World has always held that NATO is a waste of time, and why wouldn't he? NATO still considers Russia as Enemy No.1 [although they did make mention that they were looking over their shoulder at China in the Trump-less joint communique], when Old Mate Putes is DJ!'s bestie. The Donald loves those old Ruskie election-riggers to bits, inviting them on board to do his dirty work again in 2020. Whinge all you like about NATO not paying its way - the USA has been been paying disproportionately for the defence of Europe ever since the end of WWII. Of course, the Trumpotus would have never heard of the Marshall Plan, and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to make head nor tail of it. Fancy giving away free gratis $US100B in today's money to help rebuild the joint, which US troops had done a mighty job of destroying. He's never read a history book, so he wouldn't feel the need to dust some off down at the Library of Congress. He'd just call it a "very bad deal".

As the winter closes on on DC, Nancy Pelosi's voice is getting hoarse from all the barking orders she's been doing behind closed doors about the purely political process called Impeachment. She's very keen to get it out of the way ASAP. She knows the electorate is getting sick of it, and everyone wants to bring on the main event - the trial in the Senate. The reality TV ratings will be in a stratosphere, when every Senator is asked to walk up to the bench occupied by the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and say "yay" or "nay" to the various Articles of Impeachment. It matters not a jot if the Democrats can't get up an absolutely majority plus one; once you have been Impeached, successfully or otherwise, you are a marked man for life. Just ask Clinton, Bill - he'll tell you. And you'd rightly suspect that the Trumpotus has done alot more than leave a simple cum stain on a dress in his time. It might be a Witch Hunt, Kangaroo Court and/or Star Chamber where the rules of evidence don't strictly apply, but the sheer tawdriness of hanging out your dirty laundry will rub off on you.

It was also pleasing to hear that Our Great & Glorious Leader had the plight of bushfire victims in his "thoughts and prayers". No doubt he's down on the floor rolling about and gibbering in tongues about it even as we speak. It's pretty much on a par with that other religious zealot Izzy Folau blaming the conflagration on drunkards, homo's, liars, fornicators, thieves et al. And this from the leader of a classic Do Nothing Government. As the economy, stupid, slides towards an inevitable recession during the US/China trade war, Scomo wants to hear nothing of it. He is very happy in his own comfort zone in the Canberra Bubble, thank you very much, and no one is going to spoil that on his watch. The PM is too busy slashing and burning the Public Service, anyway. What a masterstroke it was to merge the Department of Agriculture with the environment functions from the Department of the Environment and Energy, which now becomes the Department of Dirty Coal. Brilliant! The internal shitfights between the bureaucrats from Environment and Agriculture - who are sworn enemies - will be a sight to behold. The upshot is that the never ending animosity will produce the desired result - absolutely nothing will get done. Until Australia follows the example of Vanuatu - the first country in the region to set up a Department of Climate Change - which will never happen if ScoMo has anything to with it, the Do Nothing Government will continue on its merry way, regardless. At least the suffocating acrid bushfire smoke that has enveloped Sydney over the past few days will have convinced millions of city voters that "something's going on". It's a wonderful world, aint it?