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.