Recently Wilson Tuckey charged that terrorists were gaining entry to Australia in the refugee boats by acting as asylum-seekers.He insinuated that terrorists would subject themselves to such deprivations in order to perform their martyrdoms.
The Blowfly raised his eye-brows in mock horror, much the same as John Howard used to do. The Blowfly knows that Wilson Tuckey has never been a shrinking violet.Wilson first assumed his Federal seat of O'Connor in October 1980 and is now the oldest member of the Parliament at age 74.
Nicknamed "Ironbar", after being convicted of assaulting an aboriginal man with a length of steel cable whilst a publican at Carnarvon in 1967,Wilson has never been 'backward in coming forward' and has tested the mettle of all his leaders in and out of government.
The Blowfly is well aware that just as red wines mature with age it is possible that some politicians follow the same route. Ever the adventurer you decide to see what makes Wilson tick. Paul Keating once called Wilson 'a piece of criminal garbage'. To your humble brain this means the best chance you have for finding him is to scout around those garbage bins outside the Parliament House kitchen.And Cousin Fester also saw him there once digging up dirt on Kim Beazley.But alas no Wilson there!
These days he is more likely to be holding court at the entrance to Parliament House and that is where you find him today---- waxing lyrical!You gently settle onto his shoulder and latch your germy little feet firmly into his shirt.In a funny sort of way you feel 'right at home'.
Your expectations are high. You remember an old friend telling you that if you were choosing between a slow clock and a stopped clock you should choose the latter because at least a stopped clock was ' right twice a day'. It could be the same with Wilson, you think.
An alert young journalist asks him a particularly astute question about climate change. You sense his feigned interest as you tune into his thought process.
"Why do these gooses ask me intelligent questions", he thinks "don't they know I'm from Western Australia?"
"Intelligent questions should only be asked of that smart-arse from Queensland, Barnaby Joyce", he thinks. "Now there's a yokel if ever there was one!" He chuckles to himself as he remembers Paul Lyneham's quip that a yokel is 'someone who sees the Nationals as the driving force of the Coalition'.
"Why do these gooses keep on asking me questions about things I know nothing about? My mouth just goes into overdrive and anything seems to come out.Gee it must be embarrassing for my Party. Why don't these gooses ask me about subjects I know something about? How to pour a good beer.How to deal with the Stolen Generation.Cupcakes.The weather in Carnarvon.Paul Keating's former girlfriends.What drongoes are.How not to get your son off a traffic charge.What a dickhead John Howard is. Malcolm Turnbull's weak spots.The Min-Min light.Malcolm Fraser's inadeqacies.The meaning of the word 'sorry'.Humility.Economics.Where UFO's come from."
You see his eyes glaze over and you decide that this is a good time to get into his ear. You hover near his right ear looking for the right moment to enter. It is then that you feel like Malcolm Muggeridge when he 'saw the light' on his 'road to Damascus'.
You too can 'see the light'.As you stare into his right ear you see the beam of light emanating from his left ear.It's like the light at the end of a tunnel. Could it be a freight train coming? Surely not!
The Blowfly's impulsive urge gets the better of him and you hit the throttle and go for it. In what seems like a nano-second you are out the other side and into the air coming into Wilson's left ear.
And--------- into 'the light'! Your understanding of Wilson has been advanced.
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