A political wedding made in heaven. One of the guests alegedly did not get there by helicopter.
There’s been much talk recently about the future of the former member for Indi Sophie Mirabella. Reports of her demise politically may be premature. But we felt obliged, as we are committed to transparency and in depth political analysis to provide our readership with three easy pieces which suggest that rather than dispirited, there is rejoicing and dancing in the streets. And also, (we suspect) her former colleagues in the Federal Liberal Party don’t seem to be working overly hard in rescuing her. The first is from that esteemed satirical publication, The Shovel.
Image offered to PCbyCP readers as an alternate Anti Terrorist fridge magnet. As the product endorsement states;’ Even the flies wont go near her’.
‘Softer, Calmer Sophie Mirabella Pushes Cathy McGowan, Rather Than Punching Her In The Face’.
By The Shovel on April 21, 2016
’In a sign of the new gentler image she’s developed since losing the seat of Indi two years ago, Sophie Mirabella politely shoved sitting member Cathy McGowan out of the way at a recent event, rather than planting a right hook on her jaw. “I’ve learnt a lot these past few years,” Mirabella said today. “I’m more relaxed, that’s for sure. “If the fucktards in this electorate want to vote for some loser independent over me, well they’re absolute dickheads. But I’m not going to get all worked up over it,” she said.
The former Indi member said the event would have ended very differently if it had been held three years ago. “It would’ve ended with McGowan on the fucking carpet. That’s how it would’ve ended. But that was the old Sophie Mirabella. Now I know that a quick elbow in the stomach is a more collegiate response”.
Happy in HATE
12 October 2011 The passion of Sophie Mirabella.
Then this excellent portentious piece from the press reform blogger.
“The rise and fall of Sophie Panopoulos Mirabella MP involves more than just one person and those who care about her, who have watched her go από την ύβρη προς Νέμεσις in such a short time. It involves the death of several big ideas: that you have to be accepted for the front you present to the world; that you accrue class and status for yourself by defending those with class and status; that you can reshape the Liberal Party and the country any damn way you please, and that anyone who doesn’t like it can just piss off; that intensity makes up where integrity falls short; and that ferocity conquers all. Like Andrew Bolt, she’s still not sorry. She never will be, because she can’t be.
She’ll think that her failure came because she wasn’t intense or aggressive enough, and there will be enough of those who support her in that, to the point where the rest of us who point and jeer won’t matter one bit. When you’re like her, as many Liberals are, you can’t self-examine and apologise without unravelling. If you thought the unhinging was bad, just you wait for the unravelling.
από την ύβρη προς Νέμεσις “ From hubris to nemesis’
Sophie mouths a perfect zero.
And the final word from our very own Ira Main.
‘Bear in mind chaps that Sophia is Greek for wisdom and before she was Italian our favourite Liberal was of the Hellenic persuasion. This gave her a good start in the great race but I suspect the mistake she made was marrying a person of Italianoid extraction. This brave lady, in doing this, and in order to achieve her lofty aims, was then required to take on her new beau’s monniker. This proved to be an unfortunate stratagem and instantly suggests (at least to me) that she was (and is) the sad author of her own demise.
Allow me to explain. ‘Mira’ suggests the word ‘mire’ which in turn suggests something ghastly, something festering, something brown, bilious and bubbling, like vast, malodourous lakes of pooh or ordure. ‘Bella’ brings to mind a sense of ‘ bounty, bountiful’ or ‘plenty’.. an adjective deliberately calculated, in this case, to multiply the stench already rising in one’s nostrils. Tie these two together and one is led inevitably to the conclusion that her new surname, translated into the argot of the common man, most decidedly means ‘Deep Shit’.
Am I entirely wrong in this? Am i being unfair? I would be delighted to find my conclusions questioned by you chaps, and be possibly even disabused of my heretical notions regarding this poor woman. In the hope of a more reasonable explanation,’