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19 March 2015
by Smelly Tongues


I was idly flipping through the pages of “The Australian” yesterday (it’s a quick flip), at my local pub, quietly sipping a beer, when my eye did spy amidst the cluster of bylines and scribblings from a small flock of old white people on the “opinion” pages, an ode.

An ode of love. Of joy and of devotion. Of high praise for the constancy of spirit, the balance of mind, the purity of soul and embodiment of the rugged individualism of Man, One Man, Tony Abbott, Prime Minister.

The piece was penned by Maurice (You Can Call Me The Space Cowboy) Newman, a well-respected and highly sought-after spokesperson for the Views of The Oppressed, The Common Folk, the Dear Hearts and Gentle People who would otherwise cow and tremble, and timidly hold their tongues in defence of their conservative views for fear of the ridicule that would rain upon them from the Sneering Bigots of the Radical Socialist Left, and the self-anointed inner-city Generals of the Intellectual Elite forever proselytising their foul collectivist causes through the taxpayer-funded outlets of the ABC, and the unapologetically Leftist bias of the Fairfax media.

Mr. Newman is currently chairman of the Prime Minister’s Business Advisory Council, has studied intensively on environmental science via Wally’s Wide World of Webby Wonder, and begins his lusty appraisal of Mr. Abbott thusly …

“FOR the Left there is no greater hate figure than Tony Abbott.

After all, the Prime Minister is a liberal of the European school and embraces all the policy instincts and beliefs the Left despises. What’s more, Abbott effectively toppled Australia’s first female prime-minister, the Left’s beloved Julia Gillard, and it is determined to get even.

Abbott is a fiscal conservative. He stands for lower taxes. He believes in smaller government and competition. He wants freer trade, freer markets and fewer regulations. He encourages entrepreneurship and innovation, which run counter to the ideals of the collective. He sees a place for private education and private health. He is opposed to open borders. He believes migrants should respect our values and our laws. He is for work and self-reliance, not welfare. He’s a monarchist, a Catholic and, worse, not of the global warming faith.

Above all, for as long as he remains Prime Minister, he is an ever-present threat to the socialist legacy of the Gillard years.”

After which it all gets a bit weird and scatty, until Maurice concludes as follows …

“Too often the commentariat writes what it hopes rather than what is. Prejudice passes for analysis. So the government has a critical role in communicating the reality.”

There’s another nail in the coffin of satire.

Maurice’s spirited portrait of Dear Tony follows closely on the heels of a recent Fairfax report, a series of focus groups held with residents of western Sydney whose opinions on Mr. Abbott could be neatly summed up as “What fucking dickhead” …

One woman declared:

He could be talking about the weather and you’d still think, oh… I don’t know.

Tony Abbott talking about the “weather” is certainly a task for the imagination as it would indicate a sea-change of sudden awareness, a dawning consciousness of mind, of the environment in which he lives, the one that can and must, in accordance with the current Gospels of Our Good Government under His Tutelage, submit to our will, bend to our service, and be utilised for the material and financial benefits to our lives, and ours only, fuck the consequences, there aren’t any, never have been, not now, not ever, so there, nyah, nyah, your muvver wears army boots and sleeps in a swamp.

When a “conservative” columnist, that is to say, some smarmy, self-righteous, know-it-fucking-all, right-wing rich old cunt feigning only beneficent intent and infallibility of opinion, throws about the word “socialist” willy nilly, it becomes instantly apparent that what one is dealing with is one of those crusty, dusty and oddly sad relics from the long lost days of the Cold War, Mutually Assured Destruction, the Bay of Pigs, Stalin, Khrushchev, B.A. Santamaria babbling away on the television on a Sunday morning, here I am a twelve or thirteen year old kid wondering who and what the fuck this bald old guy’s going on about, and what happened to the fucking cartoons.

In their minds still, they are diving under school desks, covering their heads with their arms in case of nuclear attack, and yes, a desk will most certainly be a FUCKING GREAT BIG FUCKING HELP, WON’T IT?

A desk, or maybe inside a refrigerator.

In their minds still are mushroom clouds, hammers, sickles; on the horizon, the threat of a looming welfare state, the proletariat hordes clamouring at the doors of Government for more, sir, more, can I please have some more, where the Age of Entitlement is an Age no more, but an Era, spanning decade upon decade, until all the money is gone, and our children and their children, inheriting this financial wasteland, this perfect storm of socialist ideology, shall wander deserted streets, in ragged clothes, in rags, starving, their bellies slowly swelling from malnutrition, desperately seeking – Dear God, please make it so – just a small handful of dirt to eat on the off chance there might be a worm inside.

That Maurice writes “What’s more, Abbott effectively toppled Australia’s first female prime-minister, the Left’s beloved Julia Gillard”, is something further to observe and take not of, for it seems a proud statement of noble and just achievement, a celebration that, after the nation’s disastrous experiment with putting tits in the Lodge, the patriarchy has, once more, been rightly restored to its traditional position of power, as wholeheartedly endorsed by the electorate, and no more shall we endure the gaudy spectacle of some ginger cow flouncing about the lawns of Kirribilli House getting up to God only knows what with her fucking BOYFRIEND.

Maurice is a bit of a dick.

He continues …

He [Tony Abbott] was denied the honeymoon normally granted to new governments. He has been called untrustworthy, a misogynist, a racist, a sexist, a homophobe, a bully and Gina Rinehart’s butler.

This demonisation was eagerly retailed by the leftist media. Groupthink reigned supreme.

I have never heard of Tony Abbott being referred to by anyone as “Gina Rinehart’s butler’, but as far as the other labels are concerned, I do believe a quick straw poll up the local pub would conclude most patrons would at least agree with the “untrustworthy” and “bully” tags, as we have more than enough evidence, indeed years of it, undoctored by the Leftist hate-media, that he’s an insensitive, yammering bore, and a lying sack of shit, and proves it every time he opens his fucking mouth.

When over 50 percent of voters do not approve of the job you are doing, and how you are doing it, when over 50 percent of voters think you suck as a human being, that you are an “embarrassment” to the nation, that you are dishonest, it is not a supreme act of “Groupthink” in action.

It is because you are shit.

You have communicated your message, the message has been received by the masses, and the masses have told you, in no uncertain terms, to go fuck yourself, you’re shit.

I think Maurice has not quite received, or processed that message, however Maurice does strike me as a mite unschooled in real life matters, and yet to familiarise himself with a world in which facts matter, and fantasies do not, so perhaps he should tear himself away from his studies on Wally’s Wide World of Webby Wonder, and get out and meet some real people.

A man his age needs mental stimulation, and this disjointed piece of deranged gibberish proves he needs it fast.