foreign policy and sexy business

 

Comrades,

What a week on the Campaign Trail! One of the best ever. Next to no policy on offer, with the meejah obsessed over two issues that have absolutely no votes in them - foreign policy and sexy business. Gawd Almighty. Oh, and scare campaigns. Don't get me wrong, I'm an enormous fan of putting the frighteners on big blocs of votes. Pensioners, ideally. But you really should put off scaring the living bejesus out of people until the last week of the Campaign. They've gone way too early here, for mine, and it's all been pretty half-cocked anyway. Not much traction going on. Not even stopping the boats is garnering much attention anymore. Not when we're crying out for people to come here! No one seems to realise the Tories have given us a bad name "overseas". They know what's happened here in the last two years, and they're not keen on it. Of much more import is the Kid President of France winning re-election to a second five year term, with the far right's Le Pen now a washed up spent force. Macron could always rely on the Commo's to get his arse comfortably over the line, and he knew it. Didn't even have to campaign, really. And in even more pleasing developments in the Miracle of Democracy, one of the most respected statesmen in the world, Nobel laureate José Ramos-Horta, has been elected to another shot at the presidency of East Timor after "the most peaceful election campaign I have ever seen". A fine man with a firm handshake, José returns as a national hero and shining embodiment of the War of Independence at a crucial moment in East Timor's history, two decades on. All power to his oars.

Another diplomatic blunder in the South Pacific comes as absolutely no surprise to anyone. I've been banging on for decades about how the Island people have been so shabbily treated by Australia for nigh on two centuries...for fark's sake, the freakin' broken record hasn't been changed for ages! Never mind that it shits me to tears. In the geo-politics of the thing, ScoMo has probably not made a close study of Guadalcanal as the "choke point" of the Pacific, but some terrible business went on there back in '42; very bad things happened when two great powers went head-to-head and toe-to-toe over it. The geography hasn't changed much. No need to look further than that to see why China really likes it as an ally. Nobody said anything about the cash. Still, you have to remember they burnt down Chinatown in Honiara not once, but twice - our Feds were in there only the other day to sort things out on the street...so who the hell knows what's going on in internal Solomon Islands politics? It may just be a gambit to shore up the position of the current PM, and things could quite quickly go tits up if & when they hold elections there again, so for the Chinese, it's choose your friends wisely, Mr Ping. Still, in the grand scheme of things - even with a grinding hugely disruptive War in Europe - there are no votes in Foreign Policy. Not when yr struggling to pay the next bill as the price of everything goes up.

There's no votes in sexuality either, despite the farcical brouhaha surrounding the godawful endorsed Liberal candidate for Warringah, Katherine Deves, who is the epitome of the quality of ScoMo's "Captain's Picks". Kooky views on just about everything splashed all over the internet thingy with an evangelical zeal. The fortunes or otherwise of the transexual community is not front of mind among the habitue's of the front bars and RSL clubs or those on the factory floor. I mean really, it's not as if all gender fluid people want to be football stars, do they? By and large, they just want to be left alone to get on with their lives, don't they, and that's it? Any other party would have disendorsed Deves as a disgrace - a morally bankrupt stooge - but it won't happen as it would require ScoMo admitting a mistake, and it doesn't matter anyway. The poisoned chalice is a personal gift of the PM, Katherine. Remember these are the very people who elected the Mad Monk Tony Abbott to Parliament time and time again for decades, only to be eventually embarrassed into electing a former snow ski star, Ol' Steggers, on an independent platform - which apart from some environmental mumbo jumbo - is still thoroughly conservative. Unlike some members of the Coalition with a conscience, Steggers has never once crossed the floor and voted against the Government on any issue, as far as I know. In the unlikely event of a hung Parliament, you can be as sure as hell she won't be throwing her ring in the hat and chuck her support behind Albo. And that's all that matters in the final paralysis. Labor has never won Warringah since its inception in 1922, and they've been writing it off ever since. Nothing will change this time. 

The first of the Great Debates slipped by without anyone noticing, as it was mercifully hidden behind a pay wall. Woot! Oh, how we all pine for the free wheeling good old days of "the worm".  All you heard about it was the barking of the commentariat, who gave it to DJ Albo on a split points decision. Can we have the score cards in, ladies and gentlemen, please? Unsurprisingly, no one was rushing over to YouTube to watch the thing on replay the next day for free, as the result - and the first rule of debating is that there must always be a winner and a loser -  was already known: Pinko's 1, Hard Right Evangelicals 0. Perhaps the high point was when ScoMo thanked the Good Lord Jesus that he didn't have any spastics in the family. Choice one, Scotty. A first class example of Christian empathy, right there. Perhaps he was banking on the fact that there's no votes in the NDIS either, given that the Pentacostalists blithely ignore the turning over of the money changers tables in the temple (Matthew 21:12 etc) and deeply believe that wealth, continuous financial success and good health are a God given blessing. It's a blessing, mate, got that straight? No surprises here, move along.

And then Albo goes and gets the Covid. Seems he got a bit lazy about mixing with small children, their parents and kelpie pups at The Royal Easter Show. Social distancing is a touch difficult on the hustings unless yr wearing a space suit with funny arms. A pity really, as he'll have to make the call to his attack dogs early. But it'll give the Leader of the Opposition a bit of space to put his thinking cap on and dream up how he's going to whip up the vote, and beat those bastards home.

 

hell hath no fury

Seen on the Canterbury Rd, Canterbury, Division of Grayndler, Sydney, NSW. Photo: The Miracle of Democracy.

Comrades,

A week before the real Campaign swung into dynamic action, poor ol' ScoMo was getting such a bad press. Said it before and I'll say it again: it must be bloody awful when everyone hates you, all the time. And it's the Kid President's fault. Macron kicked off the whole shebang when he was asked after that outrageous secretive back-stabbing contract-busting bullshit that was going on behind closed doors viz-a-viz the Barracuda's if he thought Australian Prime Minister was a liar. The Kid replied in his trademark well thought out English with "I don't think, I know". It was the most cutting of blows, from which Scotty from Marketing will never recover. An ouch moment on the international stage par excellence. (Don't talk elections with Emmanuel - he'll piss it in with the French right hopelessly split and sail home on the Pinko's first round vote). So really, it was no surprise at all that the soon-to-be former Senator for New South Wales, Concetta Fierravanti-Wells, did not hold back on the vitriol in her valedictory speech to the 'House of Pain', given she's held a grudge against Morrison for a good 15 years. Still, saying in effect that there's no place in The Lodge for a bullying psycho who uses his faith as marketing was a mighty fine way to pour petrol on the embers of a long-burning loathing. It must be dreadful when your own kind are queuing up to give you the blowtorch to the belly treatment after months of missteps &  miscalculations in the Phony Campaign. The Masters of the Dark Arts might say "the optics don't look good". As it stands, the CEO of the ALP's Dirt Unit, Kristina Keneally, won't have much to do at all if the Tories continue to tear themselves apart. There's no truer phrase in politics than "disunity is death", and a challenge to ScoMo's intervention in the NSW branch to impose his attack dog's candidates going all the way to nowhere in the High Court is proof enough that these particular bastardos - in the public mind - are not to be trusted. The PM's justification of "but I was standing up for some good women Liberal candidates! I stood up for them!" created chuckles among my female acquaintances with a "yeah, the right women from your faction, mate". Let's not mention My Mate Tudgey, shall we? The former rising star Christian Porter? Never heard of him. Parachuting the evangelical far right into safe seats is all well and good - but as sure as hell, there aint no votes in the "sex them at birth" brigade. Not when you don't know where yr next dollar is coming from.

DJ Albo got out of the blocks in a fairly tardy fashion; certainly no Ben Johnson or Usain Bolt when it comes to the starter's gun. He's never had that swagger. Never will. Of course he doesn't know the unemployment rate or the cash rate or any rate at all, because they're made-up figures that no-one has any faith in nowadays - if they ever did. Lies, damned lies, and statistics. I don't know what they are, do you? Why not start with the price of eggs? That's the issue. What exactly are the Pinko's to do about the curse of Stagflation? That's the fundamental question that needs answering, not silly numbers produced by creative accounting otherwise known as book cooking. And it was lazy journalism to boot, as any genuine hack worth their salt would've sprung the 'gotcha moment' in the last week of the Campaign, not the first. Just plain dumb. During a Campaign, the mug punter has the attention span of a gnat. Never mind the opinion polls with margins of error all over the shop and 25% of the electorate having no idea who they'll vote for - survey's of voter's intentions are about as meaningful as they were last time out: meaningless. And it's all about Queensland, metropolitan Perth, and outer western Sydney anyway. The rest hardly matters.

You couldn't help but notice there's been no holding back on offerings of porcine products, otherwise known as blatant vote buying, despite the marvellous sports rorts affair, not to mention the even better commuter car parks scheme etc etc from last time around. It took no time at all to see that master of retail politics, Barnaby "BoJo" Joyce, on the Campaign Trail flitting about here and there trying hard to shore up shaky support in the last redoubts of the Country Party. Putting on his Regional Development Minister's ten gallon hat and immediately tipping a mere $1.5B into a second port in Darwin to export ill-gotten Timor Sea gas (on account of the built port  has been leased to the Chinese for a million years), not as a campaign promise mind you, oh no siree, but as L-A-W law shit that cannot be meddled with in the future "we are not mucking around or having the Territory on here" were about his exact words - was an absolute corker. Funny that it turned out to be common or garden bullshit. But it matters little. It's the thought that counts. A billion here, a billion there - it all adds up at the ballot box. Line a pocket or two to make yet more money for everyone all along the way, and Bob's yr uncle. Little wonder the Inbred Tomato and other higher ups in the Conservative/Country Party Conglomeration would be quaking in their boots at the very thought of a Commonwealth Independent Commission Against Corruption with investigative Royal Commission powers. They must be shitting bricks if the Ruby Princess fell on her own sword as the Premier of NSW when all it took was the mere look of "guilt by association" in matters of pork down at the NSW ICAC. It'd keep me awake at night too if there was any hanky panky or jive talkin' going on. And Albo reckons he wants one by Christmas. Wooah! Hang on! That's a bit early! Better get yr own house in order first, son. Reds under the beds! These people can tap yr phone! But he knows there's votes in corruption. The punters don't like it. Don't like it at all. What you got to hide, matey?

The latest resident loony toon in town the Hon. Craig Kelly's already been "egged" by a woman who then wanted to go on with it and was about to put up the dukes before being shuffled off by members of the General Public and the Campaign hadn't even begun! Fun and games everywhere you look. ScoMo's already had some pissed old pensioner in his face screaming "I'm sick of your fucking bullshit!". That's top form right out of the box, and there's another five weeks to do on the hustings! Plenty of time for Crafty Clive to become a tremendously slow-moving target for a well-aimed custard tart and a tipped off media. Now, this is not to advocate any form of violence whatsoever, but maybe the bloke who nutted Tony Abbott in Hobart could make a comeback? After all, when asked by the police why he had taken the opportunity to head-butt the by-then former half-term Prime Minister he told the cops that he always thought the wackjob was "an evil cunt" who deserved to have his bonce stoved in. Did two months in Risdon for that. For someone who was essentially homeless, time well spent, he reckons.

 

it's on!

Comrades,

It's on! Seen on my travels on the mean streets of Sydney yesterday...

 

 

Election Special!

Comrades,

Loose the bears on the midgets, and let the gaming begin! One million worthless words will spill from a thousand lips over the next six weeks...but a picture is worth...

I snapped a little paintwork here from the inimitable Scottie Marsh with my box brownie a couple of weeks ago in Chippendale, featuring seven of Australia's leading right-wing provocateurs, climate deniers and anti vaxxers etc etc. Bastards all.

Read all about it! Election Special!