Crikey

On Friday, the Stephen Bradbury of the Liberal party Scott no friends Morrison made the worst International Women’s Day speech in the history of forever.

Simple Scotty said that men should not have to make way for women’s empowerment.

On International Women’s Day.

“We’re not about setting Australians against each other, trying to push some down to lift others up,” Morrison told a function organised by Australia’s mining industry.

“We want to see women rise. But we don’t want to see women rise only on the basis of others doing worse.”

On International Women’s Day.

What I love most about Scott no friends’ latest idiot utterance is that Labor don’t really need to do anything during this election campaign. Scott has placed his feet in concrete boots and the LNP ship is sinking faster than the rats can run. And it’s all his own doing.

As a rugby league man, Scotty the super fit sporty PM may not understand the concept, so here is the dictionary definition of ‘own goal’:

noun

1. a goal scored when a player inadvertently strikes the ball into their own team’s goal.

• INFORMAL•BRITISH
an act that unintentionally harms one’s own interests.

Ex liberal MP Julia Banks told a gathering at a separate IWD event that Morrison’s leadership style was akin to “Mad Men crossed with House of Cards.”

Just when the Australian people thought that Tone deaf Abbott defending a paedophile was beyond, along comes good old boy Scotty to make sure they’ll be in opposition for a long time. As we say in the land of Oz, “hold my beer.”

Now that you’ve stopped the votes, where the bloody hell are you retiring to Scotty? Time to book your place at the Hillsong happy clapper home for bewildered dinosaurs 🦖🦕

#AusPol


God only knows

In 2017 I was lucky enough to visit Italy and I went on a tour of the Vatican. The impenetrable wall around Vatican City and numerous security cameras screamed inclusiveness to me. In the Vaticano museum, there are priceless works from an immense collection built up by Popes throughout the centuries, including some of the most renowned classical sculptures and important masterpieces of Renaissance art in the world. They own paintings by Leonardo, Van Gogh, Raphael, Picasso, Chagall and Dali for God’s sake. Why won’t the Catholic Church sell some of these artworks and antiquities to help the victims of child abuse by their priests? Or perhaps the world’s starving and homeless? When the gap between rich and poor has never been greater, why are ‘good Catholics’ paying for statues to be made and shipped from all over the world to an already over-stuffed museum? They could wipe out a generation’s problems with a few garage and property sales around the world. So why don’t they?

My visit was a few days before Pell was charged. After his arrest, in St Peter’s Square there were polizei, army and carabinieri on every corner and tourist monument. Pell was hidden away. Who could blame the poor victims who for years were ignored, if they decided to revolt against these monsters in power?

20% of Christian brothers are guilty of perpetrating or covering up child abuse. The Catholic Church pays to protect paedophile priests but argues over paying compensation to their victims when money for shelter and counselling could alleviate the suffering of those whose childhoods were robbed by sick perverts.

The Australia-wide Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse delivered its final recommendations in December 2017. More than 60,000 abuse survivors came forward. The suicide rate amongst males in Ballarat (Pell’s home city) is twice that of Melbourne. But still, some in the Catholic Church believe that their religion is being unfairly targeted. This is the organisation where all serving archbishops told the royal commission they would not report to police a colleague who admitted in the confessional to child rape.

And scumbag journalists with zero credibility defend them.

Members of the media who defend child rapists must be sacked. And a truly visionary pope who wanted to help victims would be a great start.

 

The church asked Catholics to pay for Pell’s defence team, they helped Pell raise money but try to avoid payment to victims. They initially refused to put in an interim care scheme and a lot of the Catholic diocese’ say they ‘intend’ to sign up for the redress scheme, despite lobbying government to cut it down. Something is seriously wrong with this supposedly moral institution. It’s almost as if paedophiles (and alleged paedophiles) are taken care of but not the victims. Jesus would kick these greedy money lenders out of the temple.

“And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.”

What the Catholic Church is really worth


The Trumping Show

I don’t watch much television, but the current top rating show coming out of Washington has me shaking my head in wonder at the scripting and production values. There is not enough animation, and Donald J Trump in the starring role of lead narcissist is too cartoon-like to be real. His skin is too orange and his suits too ill-fitting to be presidential. I’m starting to think that the US TV and movie-making industry has inflicted on us the most bizarre reality show the world has ever seen. We have been tricked into thinking that schlock TV favourite Donald Trump is actually the president of the United States. The wife who is only trotted out for photo opportunities role played by Melania adds drama, but her acting skills aren’t great. Through incredibly staged press briefings we have been lead to believe that the Orange Creep’s handbag designing daughter Ivanka is a foreign policy adviser and that this bizarre family actually sometimes live at the White House.

There are some great episodes of the show. The Singapore scenes with the actor playing a North Korean despot were brilliantly staged, despite the lack of plot resolution. And I do love Nancy Pelosi in the pivotal role of lead shit stirrer. Her cameo at this week’s State of The Onion address must be nominated for an Emmy award and a Nobel Prize.

In an era where white trash families and country bumpkins dominate our television screens, the Trump family are reality TV royalty. Candid Camera started this trend but it may be time to stop giving idiots so much air time. The Loud clan were the first reality TV family, let’s hope the Mar-a-Lago Trumps are the last. Honestly America, it is time to take out the trash. Bigly.


Miss Piggy Says No

Dear world of media, social and serious,

I understand that the current crop of American, British and Australian politicians are spectacularly unskilled, treacherous, dangerous to children and the general health of our nations, but can we please stop calling them Muppets? Muppets are cute. Most of our pollies are neither entertaining, warm or wise, so stop labelling them as friendly puppets that have given pleasure to millions. When writing about these huge parliamentary pension seekers, using the term muppets conveys that they possess some wit. This is not the case.

The current Australian prime minister (for this week) is not life-like, clever nor an original thinker, nor able to relate to humans with humour and compassion, so for the sake of my fond childhood memories please refrain from comparing him to Fozzie Bear, Rowlf the Dog or Kermit.

I have heard the term, you lying fucking muppet used many times when relating to Brexit, can we please instead call these career con artists twats, twatwaffles or plonkers? If you don’t like these terms, consider using the phrases of the Bard. Shakespeare was brilliant at describing human stupidity. We could yell out in Question Time:
“More of your conversation would infect my brain. Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage.”

The only Muppets we need in politics are Statler and Waldorf to heckle and cajole incompetent public servants in parliament buildings around the world.

I hope that something better comes along…

 

marionette
/ˌmarɪəˈnɛt/
noun
noun: marionette; plural noun: marionettes
  1. a puppet worked by strings.
    “the bird bobs up and down like a marionette”
    • a person who is easily manipulated or controlled.
      “many officers dismissed him as the mayor’s marionette”

Wentworth falls

Yesterday there was a by-election held in the electorate where my children go to school. At the polling booth, I asked an older Liberal party member who was handing out how to vote cards how he could campaign for climate denial when the science is clear. He asked me a question about H2o or Co2 levels in the atmosphere then told me off for not knowing the answer.

“You should educate yourself,” he said.

“I believe the scientists,” I replied but because I couldn’t answer his science questions he laughed. My brain has never retained STEM facts so that’s not proof that global warming doesn’t exist, it’s proof that 99% of the time my mind is off with the pixies dreaming up single mum get rich quick schemes, and maths and science are not my strong point.

When I said to him, “How about your party find some strong policies instead of incessantly bitching about the Opposition?” he told me I didn’t understand science. He is right but I clearly understand that I don’t want our beautiful environment destroyed by corporate and political greed.

Even a former Liberal Party leader stated the day before the poll: “You forfeit the right to govern if you don’t have a climate action strategy.”

A few hours later the Government lost a safe seat they’d held for 117 years, and the Prime Minister gave a tone-deaf concession speech attacking opposition leader Bill Shorten and people on welfare. I’m no policy-maker but here are a few ideas if they want to stay in government next year:

Where 45% of the electorate are renters, don’t talk to us about negative gearing. Overpaid members of parliament have used Australians on low and below the poverty line income to buy and push up house prices. We are sick of subsidising wealthy politicians who manipulate the property market. Let’s remove this rort.

We’ve had three conservative Prime Ministers in two and a half years, so perhaps don’t mention stability and certainty in your election promises. Nor economic management when you’ve tripled the deficit and refused to help low income families in the five years you’ve been in power.

And let’s not mention the NBN debacle.

The conservatives have now lost their majority in the lower house. Maybe with a hung parliament we can get the kids off Nauru without having to go to court.

Liberal party, it’s not 1954, you could try listening to voters. All over the world, educated people are living to the 21st century. Wentworth liked the guy who you kicked out of the job, so they decided to elect a progressive independent doctor who believes in climate change. Maybe your party can’t attract women with integrity because no intelligent lady would join your gang of dinosaurs. Scott Morrison, try inspiring our country with visionary ideas, you currently sound like a used car salesman trying to sell us a clapped out, dodgy lemon. Your hollow words are (went) worthless


Politicians have a lot to be modest about

This week I woke up dressed in a diabolical fashion, with unflattering lighting overhead and inedible food by my bed. No, it wasn’t Mother’s Day. When I walked into the main hospital building that morning, the first thing I noticed was the drab decor; so hideous that the caring lovelies working there had tried to patch up the dullness with bright paintings, but I could feel the bacteria and sadness in the walls.

But we do have incredible care. When I came to after my anaesthetic, I had the most lovely pregnant nurse and I couldn’t get over how grateful I felt that we have great health care in Australia. Everyone was so caring I shed a few tears, I felt blessed that this was my first thought. I looked around and noticed that the hospital staff represented every corner of the universe, Africa, Asia, alien, Australia, America, Pacific Islands, Europe and bogan. Despite the racial hatred pollies who’ve received very few votes are trying to stir up, Australians are a mixed bag of nationalities who want to work and live together in harmony without politicians telling us we can’t.

I had a general anaesthetic so I could have Botox injected into my bum muscle (I speak fluent doctor yeah) to try to repair nerve damage from an operation I had in April. I did ask but the doctor wouldn’t do a 2 for the price of 1 Botox deal on my arse and my face. Bloody Medicare. Before I went under, my colorectal surgeon told me to eat soft foods, when I awoke I was served beef so tough it could have been used by our defence forces. And the doctor wouldn’t let me go until my blood pressure and pulse rate went up so I sat in a chair scoffing non-hospital food until I was allowed to leave. I’m happy to be home. On my return, there was a two-stage political coup erupting to change our Prime Minister. Here comes the revolution: We’ve changed to a conservative god bothering white male from a mega-rich white male. Plus ca change. And now that the weekend is here, and our right-wing politicians have finished throwing tantrums and travelled away from the Canberra bubble, I’d like to help those boorish pale males think about something other than themselves, perhaps the nation’s healthcare, education, domestic violence, babies dying in detention centres or even a treaty with the people who were here first.

Politicians, I can’t believe I have to spell it out for you, but most of you are ego driven and need Commcar drivers to help you get to work at Parliament House because you couldn’t find the place by yourself. You are public servants, we voted for you to serve us, not to watch you cower before opinion polls, you spineless idiots. Walk into the hospital, STFU, listen and watch how a diverse group of people co-operate, learn how they carry on their jobs without petty squabbles, working as a team to achieve incredible outcomes for the good of all humanity. This may help as most of you couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. If you still don’t get it, be careful the door doesn’t hit your unBotoxed bums on the way out.


Privacy update

Dear Mr Joyce,
As you don’t seem to have the necessary skills or desire to spare the people of our great country, I’ve updated your privacy policy. Let’s clarify a few items:

Your new money-making model, the Vicki-made-me-do-it-defense belongs in the bin with Adam’s “Eve made me bite the apple”, and poor white trash dude shot up the school because his girlfriend dumped him excuses.

We, the people of Australia, don’t have any questions about the personal information you have chosen to share with us. We don’t want the media to inform us how your baby was conceived, how many times you cheated on your wife or how you fell for Vicki. We would like you to review your Terms of Use and really want you to prioritise transparency about when you’re going to pay back the money you owe the Australian people and the deals you were a part of when you were not eligible to be the Deputy Prime Minister.

As a politician Barnaby, you have obviously signed the Hypocrite Oath, compulsory for anyone willing to join a party that locks up children in detention indefinitely and lies about it. For the sake of your four daughters, we would like to unsubscribe from the tacky details of your personal life immediately, please feel free not to get in touch, not to update any television station journalists, and have a long think about resigning immediately.

And Vicki, please feel free to shut the fuck up at any time via the link below.

These changes reflect the new TMI privacy regulations that will shortly come into effect, as we the over-subscribed, over-stimulated, over it Australian population have demanded of all politicians.

Stop showing us your privates Barnaby.

Thank you