Brexual Feelings

It is closing time in the gardens of the West.
Cyril Connolly

Yesterday’s news from Britain has bought the world to its knees. Europe’s most powerful institution has lost a crucial pillar and the hopes and dreams of millions dangle on the brink. It’s difficult to guess what brought us to this place – the path behind is tangled and dim, the path ahead is subsumed in darkness. As we stumble, blind, into the thicket of history, the only thing that’s certain is the stark reality of this uncanny severance – Harry Styles is leaving One Direction.

Things simply cannot go on as they were. Who would want to see Louis, Liam, and Niall in concert, a hair-gelled triumvirate of pure dead weight? 1D is finished. And, to add insult to injury, the United Kingdom is leaving the EU.

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Who Said It – Hitler or Trump?

Jaundiced schlockmonger Donald Trump could be the next Emperor of Freedomland and everyone is all in a tizzy. But has anyone noticed that this racist demagogue has qualities in common with the only other racist demagogue anyone can be bothered remembering? Amazingly, nobody has ever thought to compare Trump with Hitler. Until now! These quotes are from either the Moustachioed Menace or Orange Boy – see if you can guess which belongs to whom!

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PM says policies don’t target millennials: also hurt elderly, children, the unborn

Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Bligh Halifax Rameses Turnbull has struck out at claims that his policies unfairly disadvantage millennials, arguing that they unfairly disadvantage all generations other than his own.

“Of course our policies aren’t some kind of attack on young people,” the PM announced to a press conference held in his negatively-geared harbourside hedge maze, “We’re committed to reducing living standards for all non-key demographics.”
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The Good Emperor

Thank goodness we finally have a Prime Minister who respects our intelligence.

Just two months into the Pax Malcolma and the onioniverous antics of our erstwhile overlord seem a lifetime ago. I can barely even remember that time Tony Abbott said baby seals deserved to be clubbed. Or tried to legalise witch-burning on the grounds it would benefit small business. Or went to the NATO summit wearing nothing but a novelty Australian flag bucket hat because Barnaby Joyce dared him too.

That dark age is behind us and Australia now is in a safe pair of hands. Safe, supple, strong hands. Dry, warm, well-manicured hands. Hands that probably couldn’t strangle a man to death, but could pay an assassin to do it for them, but wouldn’t because they’re too gentlemanly. Continue reading “The Good Emperor”

Anthony Abbott’s Xmas Miracle

In the city of Canberra, of roundabout fame,
Lived a strange little man with a clergyman’s name;
He wasn’t a cardinal, though there was one he knew,
And he wasn’t a bishop, although he had two;
He wasn’t nun in a gown and a habit,
And he wasn’t a pope – he was only an Abbott.

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Citizen Clive

Just when you thought that Australian democracy was as lifeless as a roadkill ‘roo smeared across the asphalt of capital, it has risen, quite literally, like Lazarus. For years, progressives have yearned for a political visionary to shake up the major parties, someone with the gumption to stand up to corporate lobby groups and call out the Murdochracy. Someone who can mobilise the masses but isn’t afraid to have academic credentials. At last, he’s here. The vote recount for the seat of Fairfax is almost finished (not to be confused with the company Fairfax, which still has around a decade of exponential decline). In all likelihood, Professor Clive Palmer is soon to be a Minister of Parliament, with a trio of Senators orbiting around him like the icy moons of Jupiter.

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