The Blowfly invites you to suppose, for a few brief minutes, that you have committed hideous crimes against humanity in a previous life and in order to purge your otherwise perfect soul you have reincarnated as none other than Kevin Rudd.
As part of your pain and suffering you are a resident of Queensland.
But not only are you a Queenslander, you are also a ‘Queensland politician’.
Oh dearie me!
Other Queensland politicians have, and now include, such renowned figures as Joh Bjelke-Petersen and his wife Lady Flo, Russ Hinze, Wayne Swan and …………….Bob Katter, of course!
The term intellectual has never been associated with these names-----nor for that matter with Queensland.
So for that reason you were the brightest star on the horizon in 2007.
Queensland was hoping that you would rise far above the horizon and allow wisdom about it’s quirky ways and unique needs to be distributed via your then silver-tongue.
But just as you did with Wayne Goss, when the levers of power were available to you, there was a rush of blood to your head.
You bullied. You cajoled. You swore. You made lots of behind-the-scenes phone calls. You kept important people waiting whilst you attended to minutiae.
In short, you were a bastard!
But somehow you believe that Australia would be best served by being in the hands of a bastard like you.
You have been stoking the fires with a few strategic leaks.
You love stirring the pot---although you hated people stirring it when you were PM!
After all, besides jetting all over the world , meeting world leaders and participating in lots of earth-shaping discussions what fun do you have nowadays?
You scan the newspapers daily to find a new area that would benefit from your considerable expertise and experience.
Despite your deep and abiding interest in comebacks you refrain from telephoning Ian Thorpe to advise him on his efforts to win more medals. It’s Julia’s job to mix with sportspeople now she is PM. Your phone call might be construed inappropriately.
You have thought about telephoning Hilary Clinton to provide condolences about the video of 3 marines urinating on Taliban fighters in the lead-up to peace negotiations. But on reflection you feel that the Yanks have been urinating on us since before the Second World War. That would be hypocritical!
You have refrained from ringing the guy who received 75 lashes for blasphemy in a Muslim country because you realize that there but for the grace of God go you! Although you are a Christian, with your track record, you probably would’ve got 150 lashes if they’d heard your efforts.
You are disappointed that you weren’t given a chance to show your considerable diplomatic skills when the 3 activists boarded the whaling ship. But then you applaud yourself by justifying Japan’s back-down because they knew they’d have to deal with you.
So this is what you are reduced to!
Waiting for something to occur that you can bend your considerable intellect to.
The Blowfly recalls the words of Housman: "I do not know upon what subject he will next employ his versatile incapacity."
Showing posts with label Wayne Swan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wayne Swan. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The PM doesn't always get her way!
Last week Julia Gillard and Tim were reportedly taking a well-earned holiday in some mystery location in Victoria.
With the help of the blowfly-telegraph The Blowfly managed to locate them. He can report to you, confidentially of course, on some of the goings-on.
The Blowfly managed to penetrate deep inside the Prime Minister’s holiday boudoir.
You can just imagine me can’t you? Perched on the bedhead awaiting the first opening of eyes. Waiting for a little action to start.
It had actually been a rather disturbed night with Tim and Julia both calling out things in their sleep.
Once I heard Tim call out something about “ I’ll save you from the fashion police Julia. I’m a hairdresser.”
And later in the night Julia was a little restless and she sort of exclaimed “No Kevin! You can’t have it. It’s mine and I’m not letting go yet. If anyone is going to get it then it will be Bill. He’s my little helper now!”
But then peace emerged and both slept fitfully until the willy-wagtails starting announcing the dawn.
It was Julia who stirred first.
Her eyes fixed on Tim who was still away with the fairies.
Your little antennae went up so you could tune into her thoughts.
“Isn’t he a hunk?.......and he loves me so much………..how am I going to tell him that I’m not going let him write any more speeches for me………that one at the ALP Conference was a disaster…………..it sounded like one of Kevin’s............ Tim will just have to content himself with fiddling with my hair………..and he does that so well!.............Maggie Thatcher eat your heart out……….”
Then Tim stirred and they looked at each other with those adoring eyes.
Then Julia started giggling.
“What’s funny?” said Tim
“I was just thinking about a joke Barack told me about Bill Clinton. Barack told me that they interviewed 10000 American women about whether they would have sex with Bill Clinton. 86% said ‘Never again!’”, reported Julia as she lovingly touched his brow.
Tim guffawed. “Red-heads are such a hoot”, he thought.
They continued to gaze into each other’s eyes.
“What do you want for Christmas, Jules?” he whispers.
“Do you want a Chinese hit-man to take Kevin out?..........a sex-scandal to embroil Tony Abbott?……….an identical twin for Craig Thomson?……….a Dale Carnegie course for Wayne Swan?……..another Liberal like Peter Slipper?..................a miraculous new source of energy that means you won’t have to proceed with the carbon tax?...................Gina and Twiggy to come out and support your mineral resources and rent tax?.........or do you just want……………….MEEEEEEEEEEE?”
“Oh Warney, Oh Warney you’re such good fun. Did you get those blistered fingers by putting your hand on my bottom?” she laughed.
“Why don’t we get married Tim?” she whispered softly.
“You know the answer Jules. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“We have such a gay time when we are together and you’re dead against gay marriage!”
“Why don’t you take me seriously, Tim? It would set a good example for the populace?”
“Jules, I’m a hairdresser. Give me a break! How can I take anything seriously?”
The Blowfly hopes your holidays are more productive than the PM’s.
With the help of the blowfly-telegraph The Blowfly managed to locate them. He can report to you, confidentially of course, on some of the goings-on.
The Blowfly managed to penetrate deep inside the Prime Minister’s holiday boudoir.
You can just imagine me can’t you? Perched on the bedhead awaiting the first opening of eyes. Waiting for a little action to start.
It had actually been a rather disturbed night with Tim and Julia both calling out things in their sleep.
Once I heard Tim call out something about “ I’ll save you from the fashion police Julia. I’m a hairdresser.”
And later in the night Julia was a little restless and she sort of exclaimed “No Kevin! You can’t have it. It’s mine and I’m not letting go yet. If anyone is going to get it then it will be Bill. He’s my little helper now!”
But then peace emerged and both slept fitfully until the willy-wagtails starting announcing the dawn.
It was Julia who stirred first.
Her eyes fixed on Tim who was still away with the fairies.
Your little antennae went up so you could tune into her thoughts.
“Isn’t he a hunk?.......and he loves me so much………..how am I going to tell him that I’m not going let him write any more speeches for me………that one at the ALP Conference was a disaster…………..it sounded like one of Kevin’s............ Tim will just have to content himself with fiddling with my hair………..and he does that so well!.............Maggie Thatcher eat your heart out……….”
Then Tim stirred and they looked at each other with those adoring eyes.
Then Julia started giggling.
“What’s funny?” said Tim
“I was just thinking about a joke Barack told me about Bill Clinton. Barack told me that they interviewed 10000 American women about whether they would have sex with Bill Clinton. 86% said ‘Never again!’”, reported Julia as she lovingly touched his brow.
Tim guffawed. “Red-heads are such a hoot”, he thought.
They continued to gaze into each other’s eyes.
“What do you want for Christmas, Jules?” he whispers.
“Do you want a Chinese hit-man to take Kevin out?..........a sex-scandal to embroil Tony Abbott?……….an identical twin for Craig Thomson?……….a Dale Carnegie course for Wayne Swan?……..another Liberal like Peter Slipper?..................a miraculous new source of energy that means you won’t have to proceed with the carbon tax?...................Gina and Twiggy to come out and support your mineral resources and rent tax?.........or do you just want……………….MEEEEEEEEEEE?”
“Oh Warney, Oh Warney you’re such good fun. Did you get those blistered fingers by putting your hand on my bottom?” she laughed.
“Why don’t we get married Tim?” she whispered softly.
“You know the answer Jules. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“We have such a gay time when we are together and you’re dead against gay marriage!”
“Why don’t you take me seriously, Tim? It would set a good example for the populace?”
“Jules, I’m a hairdresser. Give me a break! How can I take anything seriously?”
The Blowfly hopes your holidays are more productive than the PM’s.
Monday, June 20, 2011
It's great to be great:but it's greater to be Independent!
This week The Blowfly has made the trip to northern NSW to glue himself to the shoulders of the Independent member for Tamworth, Tony Windsor.
Its Saturday morning and he is about to make his normal ‘run the gauntlet’ walk up Tamworth’s main drag, Peel Street.
The Blowfly gently alights on Tony’s shoulder as he gets into his car for the trip from his home to his office.
As Tony drives he performs his morning limbering-up exercises in his mind.
The Blowfly tunes into Tony’s thoughts.
“Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool.”
As he turns the corner he changes his affirmation!
“I am an Independent----not a Nat, not a Lib.
I only worry about my constituents. Not the blockheads in my party.”
He repeats it several times grinding it deep into his brain.
And then his ruddy face bursts into a broad smile as he thinks of the funny things he’s experienced in days gone by……….his student days at the University of New England……….general council meetings of the NSW Farmers Association……….. Kevin Rudd’s notion of consultation with the mining industry…………….and the funny things going on now…………Bob Katter’s weirdly conflicted economic thinking…………Tony Abbott’s government-busting tirades…………his irritating 3-word slogans…………Bob Katter’s hat………….Julie Bishop’s bedside manner…………….Wayne Swan’s jokes…………Kevin Rudd sleeping in the rough……….”
Alighting from his car he starts to run the gauntlet.
The comments and greetings start coming at him.
“G’day Tony”. “G’day mate”. “How are you, Tony”. “Good job mate”.
“ Ya bloody wanker!” “Turncoat”. ”Ya bastard!”. “Go back to Quirindi , you idiot”.
Tony seems quite undeterred. He knows his position is impregnable.
The Blowfly tunes again to Tony’s thoughts as he saunters down Peel Street politely smiling at his constituents:
“I wonder if the Nats are serious about running Barnaby against me?........... would they be stupid enough to waste his Queensland following…………... it would be a lot of fun…………. he’s so easy to get wound up…………….accountants are such easy targets …………I wonder if Abbott will implode before long……………. how long can he keep up the aggression?........... at some stage he’s going to have to develop some policies…………. you can’t win an election with a mental health policy alone…………..I wonder how many meetings I have this week………….God my backside is on fire at the moment…………I need a holiday but it will have to wait until the MPCCC finishes its work…………..I hope they can make up their mind quickly before the sky falls in like that idiot Abbott is going around saying……….the things you see when you haven’t got a gun!.…………..at least Malcolm was good company …………………………..why is the ALP making such hard work of climate change?...............and why are they making such hard work of the asylum-seeker situation?........and the Coalition is no better…………..even Nauru looks attractive when you are persecuted and have a gun to your head!.......... why don’t we just let’em work on the mines in WA provided they stay there?.......heh! heh!.......not a bad idea for an ex-farmer……even Katter would probably like that one…………..where does a man get a milkshake around here?.............”
The Blowfly recalls the words of Turner: “If you respect your job’s importance, it will probably return the favour”.
Its Saturday morning and he is about to make his normal ‘run the gauntlet’ walk up Tamworth’s main drag, Peel Street.
The Blowfly gently alights on Tony’s shoulder as he gets into his car for the trip from his home to his office.
As Tony drives he performs his morning limbering-up exercises in his mind.
The Blowfly tunes into Tony’s thoughts.
“Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool. Barnaby Joyce is a fool.”
As he turns the corner he changes his affirmation!
“I am an Independent----not a Nat, not a Lib.
I only worry about my constituents. Not the blockheads in my party.”
He repeats it several times grinding it deep into his brain.
And then his ruddy face bursts into a broad smile as he thinks of the funny things he’s experienced in days gone by……….his student days at the University of New England……….general council meetings of the NSW Farmers Association……….. Kevin Rudd’s notion of consultation with the mining industry…………….and the funny things going on now…………Bob Katter’s weirdly conflicted economic thinking…………Tony Abbott’s government-busting tirades…………his irritating 3-word slogans…………Bob Katter’s hat………….Julie Bishop’s bedside manner…………….Wayne Swan’s jokes…………Kevin Rudd sleeping in the rough……….”
Alighting from his car he starts to run the gauntlet.
The comments and greetings start coming at him.
“G’day Tony”. “G’day mate”. “How are you, Tony”. “Good job mate”.
“ Ya bloody wanker!” “Turncoat”. ”Ya bastard!”. “Go back to Quirindi , you idiot”.
Tony seems quite undeterred. He knows his position is impregnable.
The Blowfly tunes again to Tony’s thoughts as he saunters down Peel Street politely smiling at his constituents:
“I wonder if the Nats are serious about running Barnaby against me?........... would they be stupid enough to waste his Queensland following…………... it would be a lot of fun…………. he’s so easy to get wound up…………….accountants are such easy targets …………I wonder if Abbott will implode before long……………. how long can he keep up the aggression?........... at some stage he’s going to have to develop some policies…………. you can’t win an election with a mental health policy alone…………..I wonder how many meetings I have this week………….God my backside is on fire at the moment…………I need a holiday but it will have to wait until the MPCCC finishes its work…………..I hope they can make up their mind quickly before the sky falls in like that idiot Abbott is going around saying……….the things you see when you haven’t got a gun!.…………..at least Malcolm was good company …………………………..why is the ALP making such hard work of climate change?...............and why are they making such hard work of the asylum-seeker situation?........and the Coalition is no better…………..even Nauru looks attractive when you are persecuted and have a gun to your head!.......... why don’t we just let’em work on the mines in WA provided they stay there?.......heh! heh!.......not a bad idea for an ex-farmer……even Katter would probably like that one…………..where does a man get a milkshake around here?.............”
The Blowfly recalls the words of Turner: “If you respect your job’s importance, it will probably return the favour”.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Inside the Treasurer's head before the Budget
This was the Treasurer’s week and always wanting to be near the action The Blowfly attached his grubby little feet firmly to Wayne Swan’s shoulder and went for the ride of his life.
The Member for Lilley and Deputy Prime Minister has always impressed The Blowfly as one who has good taste in ties and, if anything, undersells his capacities----especially his economic ones!
Initially I found him in the ante-room of his office doing his morning brain exercises so he could be prepared for those tricky questions from the journalists.
He is working his way through some discussion questions in a study guide to a standard text on Microeconomics. He is wrestling with one particular question. Question 9.
“How can present resource allocation decisions influence an economy’s rate of economic growth?”
The Blowfly tunes into the Treasurer’s innermost thoughts.
“Well let’s see now………… a government is able to allocate resources in its budgetary process……….that much I know………….so I suppose if we need growth we could allocate some resources to training………...especially for the mining industry……….. that’s going gang-busters presently……….although Treasury is telling me that we might have to import some Indians to cope …………it’s a pity that we can’t train all those asylum-seekers who want to come here………..although we don’t want too much growth because that will cause inflation………and then the Reserve Bank will put interest rates up…….so I don’t suppose we want too many asylum-seekers………...and then with high interest rates and too many asylum-seekers our electoral prospects will plummet………….further………….if that’s possible?...........so perhaps we need to find some ways of reducing productivity by allocating resources………….…….those free set-top boxes for pensioners should do the trick there..............that will get us the pensioner vote and at the same time reduce inflation………..and growth……………especially if Gerry Harvey can do it cheaper………..I love getting up his nose…………talk about a technophobe…………….God I’m brilliant…………stuff those public servants and economists……….these questions are too bloody easy for an intelligent Queenslander like me………….”
He then turns his thoughts to a more pressing matter.
“How can I make the budget speech more interesting?”
“Dancing girls?..........Powerpoint?..........wear a pink tie?.........”
“Maybe I just leave it as it is and let that wanker Abbott spice it up a bit?”
“He doesn’t know anything about economics…………so much for being a Rhodes Scholar……….. when he gives his budget reply he’ll probably just go on with all that negative crap as he usually does…….. he’ll probably concentrate on his vision for Australia……….heh!heh!heh!.........I reckon those Liberals are just putting him out there to wear us down.”
“It’s interesting that Malcolm is more popular than he is as Opposition leader……….. those guys really do want to win……….. it wouldn’t surprise me that they are wheeling Abbott up as the negative bogey-man blazing away at us and then just before the election when they need to annunciate their policies they will replace him with that silver-tongued Turnbull……... he , at least, can put two positive words together.”
The Treasurer, still thinking about the Opposition leader, recalls the words of Abraham Lincoln: “Abbott can compress the most words into the smallest ideas better than any man I ever met.”
“God, this week is going to be a hoot! I feel so excited I could break a glass.”
The Member for Lilley and Deputy Prime Minister has always impressed The Blowfly as one who has good taste in ties and, if anything, undersells his capacities----especially his economic ones!
Initially I found him in the ante-room of his office doing his morning brain exercises so he could be prepared for those tricky questions from the journalists.
He is working his way through some discussion questions in a study guide to a standard text on Microeconomics. He is wrestling with one particular question. Question 9.
“How can present resource allocation decisions influence an economy’s rate of economic growth?”
The Blowfly tunes into the Treasurer’s innermost thoughts.
“Well let’s see now………… a government is able to allocate resources in its budgetary process……….that much I know………….so I suppose if we need growth we could allocate some resources to training………...especially for the mining industry……….. that’s going gang-busters presently……….although Treasury is telling me that we might have to import some Indians to cope …………it’s a pity that we can’t train all those asylum-seekers who want to come here………..although we don’t want too much growth because that will cause inflation………and then the Reserve Bank will put interest rates up…….so I don’t suppose we want too many asylum-seekers………...and then with high interest rates and too many asylum-seekers our electoral prospects will plummet………….further………….if that’s possible?...........so perhaps we need to find some ways of reducing productivity by allocating resources………….…….those free set-top boxes for pensioners should do the trick there..............that will get us the pensioner vote and at the same time reduce inflation………..and growth……………especially if Gerry Harvey can do it cheaper………..I love getting up his nose…………talk about a technophobe…………….God I’m brilliant…………stuff those public servants and economists……….these questions are too bloody easy for an intelligent Queenslander like me………….”
He then turns his thoughts to a more pressing matter.
“How can I make the budget speech more interesting?”
“Dancing girls?..........Powerpoint?..........wear a pink tie?.........”
“Maybe I just leave it as it is and let that wanker Abbott spice it up a bit?”
“He doesn’t know anything about economics…………so much for being a Rhodes Scholar……….. when he gives his budget reply he’ll probably just go on with all that negative crap as he usually does…….. he’ll probably concentrate on his vision for Australia……….heh!heh!heh!.........I reckon those Liberals are just putting him out there to wear us down.”
“It’s interesting that Malcolm is more popular than he is as Opposition leader……….. those guys really do want to win……….. it wouldn’t surprise me that they are wheeling Abbott up as the negative bogey-man blazing away at us and then just before the election when they need to annunciate their policies they will replace him with that silver-tongued Turnbull……... he , at least, can put two positive words together.”
The Treasurer, still thinking about the Opposition leader, recalls the words of Abraham Lincoln: “Abbott can compress the most words into the smallest ideas better than any man I ever met.”
“God, this week is going to be a hoot! I feel so excited I could break a glass.”
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