At least in his Budget reply Albo showed signs that he’s re-discovered his mojo. Keep it up please, Albo – these are dark days getting darker.After a brief interlude the Tories are reverting to type – » The Australian Independent Media Network
The Great SchMo, laughingly labelled by a sycophant as the father of the country in a Trumpian inversion of reality is no hero. He’s a scheming serial avoider of accountability – a Duck Dodgers in a footy scarf.The Great SchMo – Duck Dodgers in the 21st Century – » The Australian Independent Media Network
It was Tony Abbott’s ludicrous, bow-legged saunter that encapsulated the man; some wag once remarked that he looked like a cowboy leaving a rodeo portaloo. His gait was an asinine affectation, the purpose of which no doubt was to reinforce his self image of a macho man, a tough guy in red dick-stickers, but instead the ape-like amble simply highlighted the novelty of his adoption of bipedalism.
WTF? Yep, I mean it. Morrison is that bad. Dutton will ensure a massacre of Tories come the next election. Morrison will be suitably discarded and humiliated – it will be a huge blow to his unshakable belief that his reign was god ordained. He can slink away crestfallen and fall off the edge of his flat earth leaving a skidmark and a legacy of worst PM ever.
Humour Grumpy Geezer.
The thought of Spud as PM is nauseating but his unhinged, delusional ambition will contribute to the demise of the most appalling government this country has ever experienced. Go Spud – give it another shot!
The LNP’s Ministry Of Propaganda trading as Newscorpse and a globular, yellow Trump doppelganger from Queensland are apparently two of the tools that a loving, omnipotent deity used to deliver his “miracle” of a return of Scotty The Favoured Morrison to the big, green, Prime Ministerial swivel chair.
What is becoming quite apparent with Brother Scott is that his claims to the miraculous are not him simply taking gliberties© with the language; he is not speaking metaphorically. He goes beyond the simple narcissism and hyperbole of a vacuous politician; he fully believes that his all-powerful, invisible pal in the sky favours him above all others to be Prime Minister.
ScoBro signed up for the full package – creationism, Beelzebub, the second coming and an imminent Armageddon plus, for an additional fee, his upgrade to Prosperity Jesus, the post-hippy, entrepeneurial saviour who bestows earthly rewards upon his shareholders. Morrison thinks he’s there via divine endorsement.
Spud will be given licence as the panicked poltroons on the right ram through draconian legislation to protect their self interests, further curbing our right to know and to express an opinion. His focus will turn inwards, away from flotillas of climate refugees as he excises more and more of our freedoms. What’s left in our dams will fuel his water cannons, he’ll seek military deployment against civilians and he’ll decorate the halls of Parliament and the street lampposts with his image.
Stock up on canned goods and ammo.
Too hyperbolic? Too dystopian? You haven’t been paying attention. When you see Spud in a uniform it will be too late.