Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber have shat the bed
Coalitionland - an imaginary world where everything is backward
Down the coal mine with Squizzy and Sooty
The federal Coalition—"where logic and time are backward, running is required just to stay in the same place, and memory works backward into the future." From Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass,
The Libs (with their rustic, tag-along-for-the-freebies National Party chums) are the self-professed natural party of government. The big swinging dicks, the hairy-chested alpha males and born to rule toffs of the R.M.Williams-bedecked old boys' networks. Yet they have been out-manoeuvred by a nasty, ginger crone who ran a chippy after dropping out of school at 15.
To be fair, this has not come about due to the smarts of said fried fish retailer whose personal brand is industrial-grade stupidity and pig ignorance. The gift to Pauline Hanson's aspirations is Squizzy Taylor and Sooty Canavan.
Squizzy’s strategy has been to lend credibility to Hanson's agenda by copying it. When his greatest threat comes from a dim-witted fuckwit, Squizzy's brilliant notion is to out-fuckwit her.
À la One Nation, in the midst of accelerating climate catastrophes and Australia's embrace of wind and solar, Squizzy and Sooty proclaim they'll kill off all climate and green energy initiatives, and that they'll facilitate the build of new coal-fired power stations. Venturing ever backwards they denigrate EVs once more—a reanimation of the idiocy of Mickey The Trash¹, the phlegm fatale of Scooter Morrison's 2019 election campaign.
Culture wars are to be reinvigorated - they'll warn of woke hordes of Greens-voting trans drag queens brainwashing our kiddies in Welcome to Country ceremonies.
Migrants are to be the villains du jour as the momentum behind One Nation's grievance peddling builds.
It was the Nats who gifted One Nation their regional base—by abandoning them, to kowtow to mining interests as their constituency of choice. As the Nat's accidental grand fubar, Sooty has forgone his coalface cos-play in favour of the rolled-up shirt-sleeves affectation deployed for the TV cameras by his aptronymic predecessor David Littleproud. No doubt he believes this conveys the gravitas that was lacking in his hi-vis, pencil-necked coal dust cosmetics that was more Mr Squiggle than horny-handed coal miner. Sooty's dress-ups will not forestall the extinction of the Nats as a party of any consequence - he's performing to an empty theatre.
When the discursive diatribes of the beetroot-headed Humpty Numpty of Braddon footpath infamy improve the coherence of One Nation's whingefests it says much about how logic and substance does not matter that much to the gormless supporters of the Oxley Moron².
"When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less."
Humpty Dumpty. Through the Looking-Glass.
“There are a lot of people out there and members of parliament who are pedophilia“, "pecuniar of interests", "I haven't flip-flopped. I said no originally, then I said yes, then I said no and I stuck to it." This is the quality of discourse that Squizzy and Sooty struggle to counter.
Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber, little men “looking so exactly like a couple of big schoolboys”... "...a monstrous crow frightened both the heroes so."
Can these two form any credible appeal to the sentient conservatives out there?
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things...
And whether pigs have wings.”
The Walrus and the Carpenter
¹Mickey The Trash - automotive engineering savant:
²Kudos to @MikeCarlton01 who coined this epithet for Hanson.
Jabberwocky
By Lewis Carroll
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"...it’s rather hard to understand! … Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas–only I don’t exactly know what they are!” said Alice. Full of nonsense, and seemingly devoid of meaning, but still sounding like proper English.
“Squizzy’s strategy has been to lend credibility to Hanson's agenda by copying it. When his greatest threat comes from a dim-witted fuckwit, Squizzy's brilliant notion is to out-fuckwit her.” Nutjobs in a nutshell
Taylor- Remember that he could not get the job ahead of Toxic Tony, Turnbull, Morrison, Dutton or Ley. Canavan- Well leave it blank, suits him.
Thanks for the smiles.
It’s out of you grumpy and Pocock, who should be prime minister. Albo has jumped the shark.