Poor Bloody Australians – can’t play tennis; can’t play cricket; can’t play rugby – can’t govern ourselves.
I shall not waste my energy or tire your patience by recapping the shambles of this week. Those that know shudder and those that don’t know – well, you really don’t want to know.
Suffice it be asked - how many Prime Ministers in eleven years – who cares, who's counting?
What a shoddy, shambolic and shameful example of collective political masturbation in
action! Ego, hatred, hubris and jealousy were all on public display in abundance. The only positive that can be extrapolated from this mess is the departure of the most pernicious, unpleasant, self-serving Prime Minister that this country has ever had the
misfortune to endure. He will not be missed - by anyone – and history will judge him for the maleficent swine that he is.
The real tragedy is however the future
of Australia’s once proud civic and political society. Unless the new Prime Minister can pull rabbits out of hats the Labor Government in waiting will be given carte blanche to re-engineer this country. Granted, much of it now needs re-tuning,
but the excesses of their millenarian zeal doesn’t bear thinking about.
In the meantime the great Australian unwashed – that’s you and me Sport – sit on our backsides
doing bugger-all and perfectly content to watch it all happen. Remember, we voted this bunch of tossers into parliament – all of them – whichever party, whichever state and to Canberra – and we’ve allowed them, over the years, to systematically
foul our country.
I have some sympathy with the lads and lassies that tossed a handful of bricks into the plate glass electorate office windows of one of the political buffoons the other
night. I know you shouldn’t do that sort of thing – ‘not cricket old chap’ – well we can’t play cricket remember! And those lads and lassies felt strongly enough about the situation to do something. Action Directe
– political violence – an expression of extreme political disquiet.
Well they had the courage to do something – better than us that remain on our arses. You don’t
like the system – well look into the mirror. That ugly bastard staring at you has it in his or her hands to change it - peacefully.