130610 JUST DEFIANCE Mouses Up Who's Sick Of Two Party Politrix Edition
Cooorrrr! Everyone knows Kev! You're draaaagin' it out 'til momentum's built to thunderous levels, supporting ya'!
Then like god descending on his firey chariot, you'll appear from the clouds above the bighouse, and the school girls'll be sweatin' and fallin' on their knees, screamin' “OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!
KEEEEEEvin! KEEEEEEvin! KEEEEEEvin!
An', as yer dismount from the chariot, the heavens will open up with your chorus of
“God save our gracious Kev,
Long live our Noble Kev,'
God save our Kev,
Cheesy and glorious
Blonde blue eyed boy for us
Jules'll be on the front steps, waving the Aussie flag, throwing a bunch of Geraniums at ya feet, and the crowd's'll mob ya, hoist ya' on their shoulders and we'll all march singing to Abbott's office to find him hiding under the bed.
Then, you'll wake up!
“SHIT! Not AGAIN?” you howl...
Meanwhile, daan the club bar, a few wise fellas is chatting quietly amongst 'emselves.
“We're all bloody sick of this shit! We've gotto take the reins while Kev's in momenta fairy dreamland, and Julia's petting Shorten to stick with her and the matriarchs!”
“Time someone stood up for the mob!”
“Bad choice of word there, Tony. But I know what ya' mean!”
“Abbott's off at the hairdressers as we speak, getting' his hair tizzed up for the big succession he's expectin'.”
“Bloody Bishop's getting' lipo for the fuckin' cameras, and Ho Jockey's learnin' rap-dancin', now 'es lost 20 kilos, ready to take over as treas -O! The thought just makes me wanna...!”
“Buddha knows what'll 'appen if Goebels Pyne gets the communication's portfolio, let alone mental HEALTH???”
“We GOTTA DO SOMETH'N'???”
From the corner of the club bar, a slipp'ry lookin' bloke's been sippin' his shandy, list'nin' to the natterin' over the shagpile.
When the mumblin' crew fall quiet in contemplation of the impending shit no matter which major wins the day, this fella knocks back the last of 'is shandy, climbs, cool-like, off 'is stool, and saunters over to 'em.
“A! G'Day Blokes!” 'e says calm, elocute, clear and low.
The three amigos flash glances at each other, then as one all heads turn his way.
One look at this fella has 'em all near choke, with laughter, with stunned throat-coughs, and with amazement he's even walkin', let alone talkin'!
“My name's Justice, God of the Universe, Seventh Sector!”
Tony's eyes almost shoot out of their sockets.
Bob's huge white cowboy hat ejects off 'is head by itself, shattering a hangin' chandelier four tables away!
Robbie goes weak at th' knees, and spills 'is beer over the passing waitress's back, to whit she lets out a shrill “ARGH FUCK?!”
“Justice”, as 'es introduced hissself, doesn't blink an eyelid, an' with 'is left hand, deftly catches one of the beers the waitress sent flying up behind herself, places it gently on the amigos round standup table, after takin' a sip, catchin' one of the half dozen coasters she let go with the scream and stumble, wi' 'is other hand.
“Hear y' got a few problems, over the bighouse?” Justice continues as if uninterrupted by three big men, 3 MPs, suddenly going through the spins an' gyrations of a Polish Polka, chokin' and spittin' as well as tryin' not to burst into fits of laughter.
Not to mention the waitress's carry-on with half a pint o' beer dribblin' down her backside!
“A! Yeah,” Tony tries to answer as if nothin's 'appened.
Bob's seen a thing or two, here, there and up the farfarfarking north Queensland, but this bloke, leaves him in shock.
Gently, Bob takes 'is pint up an' sips it, as if waitin' for it to turn into a pineapple.
“Wha' da' fuck they put in this bee-er?” he mutters, rememb'rin' about 'is hat, lookin' 'round.
A! Bin watchin' y'knar, the bighouse debacle, from th' forests. Y'knar..., write a bit I do, politics, y'knar, your kinda stuff!” Says he, slidin' quickly back into 'is own kind of bush-talkin' manner.
Robbie, no slouch on spottin' a winner, in 3 moves straightens up to near 'is full six foot three, and tries to refresh 'is focus and attention on this newcomer.
He tweeks 'is neck to gaze down at Justice, who's only five eight, standin' proper to attention.
“So.., wha'?” starts Rob, but Justice begins over him.
“Done a bit of 'lobbyin' over the last couple a' decades. Not up there, like, nah! Had a near blue wi' one o' the guards inside once, so don' bother goin' in anymore. Still waitin' f'r 'im to come outside, y'nar? Hehe!” He sniggered off to the side.
“But yeah, done a lot, actually, of lobbying, outside the bighouse, outside of th' cities too.”
“Been across the country, from there to there”, he pointed north then west, and his hand swung over his head in a circle, indicating he's been all round, “done the continent, y' might say.”, in a lazy tone.
“A?” Tony interupted, “Wha'...? What' were you lobbying people for, er, Just.. Justice? A? If I might ask?”
“Yeah, please do!” Justice came back. “I'm, a, glad you asked, A?” looking at Tony as if, in polite askance of his name.
Of course, being god of the universe, Justice knew all their names, as well as, as he said, he' watched the events up at the bighouse, so was well familiar with who these chaps were. [Which was why he was sippin' a shandy in the club bar, when they walked in!]
“A! Sorry Justice!” Tony stood straighter and said.
“I'm, Tony, this is Rob, and..., and..., that's Bob!”, pointing to Bob still dusting off his hat a few tables away, as if a bit hesitant to return to engage this weird character.
Bob heard his name, lifted his head up, stood straight, bracing his shoulders and walked over to them all again.
The pleasantries done, a few beers bought, and a friendly low-key conversation ensued, over the next hour.
It was stopped briefly as Bob suggested they all move to the lounge to sit down and discuss Justice's proposals and suggestions.
By the next half beer, the three amigos were transfixed, almost as if entranced by this unusual feral character, who opened up to reveal an astounding grip on the political scenes, in Australia, but more, globally.
Rob, 1st to see a winner, was trying to hide his wide grin, and glint in his eyes, 'cause he'd gleaned quick, this was GOLD, especially in light of their bitching, just before Justice walked into their lives.
Bob had composed hisself, like never before, and was glowing that he was in the company of this completely unexpected trove of knowledge and ideas.
Tony had become taller, and was looking up like never, kind of gazing at the ceiling, as if he was seeing something, like a place for himself, he's only ever humbly joked to his closest friends about.
“Sshshshiiieeettt!?” he had quietly said to himself a few times, with a calm but big smile on his face.
“A bit out of the game, yeah”. Said Justice. “But, as I think I heard you all agreein' 'afore I wandered over, someone's gotto do somethin', right?”
All three nodded in agreement. And said “Yeah, Yeah, Yes!”.
But.. what? Asked Rob?
“Hmm.., bin asking meself that for 25, 30 years Rob.”
“In night school, law, 'How the fuck?', I'd say t' meself, sittin' at the back o' class.”
Took me 20 years just to find the right school , well after those fruitless nights at me old high school. Didn' get one sheila from any of the classes I took! Damn.., a waste a time!
They all laughed.
“Rob and Tony, go an' request a chat with her, tell 'er it's important, can't wait. Ha! Tell 'er 'god' sent yer! See how much of an Atheist she really is! Ha!”
Don' have her feel pressur'd. Make her feel safe. Mutter to 'er about the whole leadership mess, in ways she'd find easy to nod agreement on, and go to it being a bad journey, what wiff the appalling options on th' other side o' the table, so either, the affair can only end badly, even if the team wins the game again.
Get onto the question of the whole leadership thing, too often splitting parties and friendships and - she'll like this'n, the “comraderie”!
Get her to say it 1st, that the leadership game is the worst, is all false, is what most gets in the way of good government, y'nar?”
Tony, still preferring to look up at the ceiling, and/or the visualizations he was delighting in seeing, was also of course, sharp in his responses and summations of the points.
And Bob was too, but in a more pensive look, half forward, letting his gaze fall into the glass of beer, asking himself “half-full/half-empty” questions.
With a refresh of his posture, Bob sat up, and said firmly, “Yep!, we gotto do somethin'! An' by jingos I reckon that's a rippa! I'll swing me party to stand 100% behind it. Stuff Abbott! Nothin's comin' from that side, er, from my side, anymore, now or never!
The horse has bolted! And someone's gotto get down off the fuckin' horse and give the old can of a system a fuckin' big kick. OR the whole lot, country and city and black fella and soldiers, and.., and.., immigrant and refugee 'll all go psycho fightin' each other.
Buggered if I took to politics to see it all end like that!
This two sides, two corporations, two fuckin' churches, all talkin' bullshit!”, Bob said with an increase on “bullshit”, of course.
“Could you put it to Abbott, or perhaps Ho Jockey, Bob?”Justice asked Bob.
"Gotto, I'd say! I'm their man, in this here chat, aye?" agreed Bob.
Yep! Bugger 'em. Ponsing around with the language and with unreal diss-satiss-faction 'votes of no confidence' bullshit. I'm well.., I'm not only sick of it, I'm bloody disgusted with it all. This ain't 'government'!” Bob went on.
“Never has been, Bob!” Justice corrected him.
“Well.., te! hee! yerr!!” sniggered Bob, pulling himself up, his head jerking backward and upright.
Rob and Tony almost unconsciously mimicked Bobs half-self-mockery, at themselves, in unison.
They all automatically grabbed their glasses, leaned back in the armchairs, took a swig, and smiles became laughs.
“I guess 'interim' is the word, aye Justice?” said Tony.
“O yeah!” Came the response. “But, as long as it takes, is likely to be a pretty long time, politically, as yer know.”
Having the military ready, and the coppers, and the civilian support, organized and casual, is imperative, naturally.
Perhaps the most costly thing from day one, or, from as soon as we can give the green light, is to educate the mob. Sooner the better, o' course.
I've done a bit o' dreamin' I call it, on how to show the youngest. Through the childcare and preschools. But dependin' on how selected advisors see it.
There's no doubt, what me Dad impressed int' me as a kid, that honesty is the best policy. Adults, business, schools and toddlers, all.
An' sad reality is, politics ain't about honesty. It's the opposite, init?
You 3 'ave proved t' me, that you all got integrity, and that implies honesty. So here's our best chance of puttin' honesty in the houses. Any who object, as the conservatives will, disqualify 'emselves, aye?
But yer! 'Interim', is as important, to not have the hidden agenda rednecks get jumpy.
Unions gotto get out there to assure the workers an' the homies that they're secure in what they own, and more so than with renting and buying, in housing.
A point everyone has to be happy with, is it's time for a mass therapy holiday. No-one loses anything but stress and worry.
Very dreamy, yeah, and that usually has people get jumpy. Sorta like Hitler promisin' paradise.
But tha's again, where the 1st efforts have to be on education.
To now, I'd guess we got about ten thousand highly advanced teachers on the arts of 'lettin' go', and about 5 thousand brilliant on the Economic Science, right here in Oz. They're a smart bunch, heavy on self-discipline, and with the school heads givin' the nod, they'll jump to quick as lightnin'.
Be on school campuses from Mallacoota to Derby, first thing next mornin'.
Apportion enough to the military bases, to brief then expand on the fundamentals, and, as yer heard, it's 'intuitive' really, once yer throw yer old ideas out.
Well..., tha's enuff, gents!
Go see the heads tomorra. They know somethin's comin'. So you'll be welcomed by all sides.
Here's me drafts of the process, from Tony assuming the chair, through reshufflin' the houses, to bringin' the cults to account, then the re-arrangement of the tax structure, much as anything needs doin' there, outside of Ken Henry's work.
I'm off. An honor to talk with you blokes.
Tony, as of now.., it's all yours!
8 months. Steer it well, like you would.
Use the committee process to select the next chair, including all mobs.
If you feel right, Tony, Stay on as over-fuhrer - ha!
Managing the top portfolios, and keeping the eagle's eye on the rest of 'em.
Sort o' from behind the next chair's chair.
Let each take that back seat after their term, you, then they, etc., coming back into the Committee with which ever folios are agreed on, after the 16 month go around.
Best part'll be getting' rid of the old shit. All the bullshit legislations and 'band-aid laws', made to cater for earlier fuckups. Soo many of 'em!
Need to have a big ceremonial bonfire once a sitting, at the end of each of 'em.
“Bye Fellas!”, said Justice, and he wasn't there, all of sudden.
Rob woke up the net morning, gave the missus a kiss, got out of bed, an went straight to the phone.
He called Tony, up the mountains.
“A! G'Day Tony!”
“A! Was just thinkin' about you Rob”
“O?” said Rob..
Talking at once, over each other, both said, “Had a, I a, had a strange dream last night!”
O! yeah! Again, in unison.
“'Bout this strange black fella!”
Gunai Aborigine Outlaw
All Praise the Immortals!
All Praise the Warriors who have fallen
Fighting for a Just World!
from the Traveling 4x4 Tent of
aka GENERAL BLUE MEANEE
Hell's Gate Warmongers