Saint Nick. Normally between index finger and forefinger a Peter Stuyvesant. Political correctness robbed us of the ciggie.

Dear reader, this is the letter that started it all, (the conversation about stove polish by Dame Ira; Kt, Cinque Ports, and other fortified wines) by the one they call “Frank”!

We at the editorial department want to know is this the same Frank who gave us the election saving “fully franked dividend”? And is it the same who should get the credit for the genius of “franking credits”. If it’s the same, our heart goes to him as saviour of all that is insular and xenephobic in contemporary Australia.  We implore him to speak to our exalted armed forces and the Gau-leiter for Brisbane in stopping lgbti afflicted from having themed morning teas in the forces.

Saint Nick barracks for St Kilda

For, as the next ‘just war’ is to be fought over China, our identity, (as Private Parts was heard to say the other day) ‘is more important than notions of Nationhood, King and Empire’.  A sentiment resoundingly endorsed by Lord Baden Powell of Mafeking, and Lord Kitchener. Men who made the worlds greatest empire a place for quiet spanking, mild bondage and unspeakable acts of beastliness encountered in civilising the dusky tribes of the tropics,

So from Frank, something Frank;

In my country of birth around 5th December when St.Nicholas arrives from Spain  on his white steed and is helped down the gangplank of the steamboat by his faithful servant Zwarte Piet (black Peter) controversy breaks out and the tiny country is divided. Attached an example of Dutch ‘up yours’ to the eenie miney miney mo- catch a coloured person by the toe brigade.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHgLiI8jc5Y

Incidentally with regard to the alternative to marooning- the dumping of cargo weighted down by chains to avoid the anti-slavery patrols I can very strongly recommend Isabel Allende’s book ‘La Isla Bajo el Mar’ (the Island below the sea) – the metaphorical island being where drowned negroes ended up (including those who preferred to jump overboard to meeting the fate that awaited them),

Our very own Saint Nick ! A total Champignon!!!

The book is set in Haiti and New Orleans in Napoleon’s time. 

 Frank

Zwarte Piet, (Black Peter) so black, that even the white bits are black!

PS:  My favourite bit in the book is when the plantation owner is having an argument/discussion with his friend the Doctor from the city as to whether negroes are human. The Doctor asks the negro girl serving them what she thinks- “non-humans don’t have opinions” is her answer. 

Dear reader, we begin where we left off, which in Australia  is code for going backwards with a  GAS LED RECOVERY! Our heroes in serious trouble, and the shocking revelation that Angus is Laurie Connell’s ‘LOVE-CHILD”!

Read on, if you dare….

W.A’s Greatest Laurie Connell. An inspiration to the leadership of Australia.

After Angus’s revelation , dare we say it, “shocking revelation” , that he, Minister for Energy, the ‘GAS LED RECOVERY’ and ‘CLEAN COAL’ and China’s chosen Commander Supreme of the Oceanic Region, was Laurie Connell’s love-child, we didn’t care about what happened next, 

All the bits fell into place. 

Whereas before we couldn’t find the missing pieces to the jigsaw puzzle, as to just why Angus had monetised all aspects of governance for his own justifiable needs, so we now knew where once we were unable to fathom the absurdity, it all made PEFECT SENSE!  WE understood everything! We understood why Nev held the power and made the ‘correct’ decisions to guide Australia to a GAS LED RECOVERY!! But it was only titular power.  The strength was with the Minister for Energy. Proof of SCOMOs stewardship to ensure that those who were wealthy, and priveleged remained so and became,  (with God’s anointment for hard work) OBSCENELY WEALTHY! And naturally, his Minister was where the greatest power ruled SUPREME, with CHINA. Though he’d sold Australia down the Yangtze, tossed it into the THREE GORGES DAM AND SIGNED US UP TO A REAL ESTATE AGENTS dream of unfettered capital enhancement through doing nothing, he could sleep straight. He  wasn’t worried a jot. In fact. As his power grew, he just WANTED MORE! The man was beyond HUMAN!

Another Great WESTRALIAN, Feeling the pressure of a TAXPAYER FUNDED GAS-LED RECOVERY!!!!

HE was unstoppable and the only thing that stood in his way, for GLOBAL DOMINATION… was ‘US’!

And  it was his handmaiden, Andrew Robb who looked after him and showed him the way!. It was Andrew who persuaded him to understand HIS SACRIFICE!   and Andrew who organised a share-holding in  Landbridge as a testament, a legacy of all that Laurie stood for. To monetise all government decisions and if need be, sell the country to anyone who could do the same.  Laurie when he went off to the big platinum VIP gaming lounge in the sky, was not alone God Bless him.. 

Nev Power!

Ces and I were pole-axed, dumb-founded, and visibly scared. Was there a way out of this, or was this THE END?

It was as though the very earth had been taken from underneath our feet. After this revelation even the existence of life on Mars paled into insignificance. This was nothing short of an Epoch making moment in ordinary peoples lives. And we knew, as death comes knocking, that we would not ever be in a position to divulge this information. It was our sentence. Our sentence of DOOM!

This was the Darth Vader moment. Having a soft spot for Luke Skywalker? 

Angus reckons Naomi was at Oxford when he was!! Onya CLOVER!!!

So that was the connection. Angus was Laurie’s ‘love child’. It all made perfect sense. The sense of entitlement, the blue blood connection. The right schools, the right establishment clubs and the stint in Oxford.  Having retrospective goes at Naomi Wolff who was never in the same college at the same time. The Shonky Rhodes Scholarship. All the adornments of the suck-hole aristocracy and the absence of imagination. And the ‘WOKE’ and ‘UN-WOKE’ LIE that he and Naomi, champion of women the world over, (highly successful, entitled white, western women)  were anywhere on campus or everywhere at the same time EVER.  It all made perfect sense, and why wouldn’t he  want to cover up his credentials? 

Angus and Luke Skywalker, allegedly (according to Angus) they were on the Death Star together!

He had been made to feel ashamed of Laurie, but just as Ghislaine, had fallen into the arms of Geoffrey after her fathers disgrace, so had Angus been drawn to the DARK SIDE.  On the DARK NET, in the DARK PLACE, where even the little white bits are DARK! 

Cos, there was a simple logic at work in the end after all the good he’d done for W.A, he did time. He (Laurie) was made to suffer for being successful and being found out.  That was the sum of his Babylonian captivity. And Angus after JAM-LAND, the CAYMAN’S and his concocted  association with Naomi was determined thus, that… IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!!

Naomi, at Oxford read books other than those devoted to CLEAN COAL and a GAS LED RECOVERY!!!

Just like Super-Boy before he  became Super-man to avenge an injustice, so had Angus sought to avenge his fathers honour by doing better and going further and even when caught was bold facing it. By using his mask of establishment and credentialed virtue to pretend it never happened. Angus had learnt, and like his cohorts, they had all learnt, to brave-face it and thus stand emboldened to take on the game, not the petty arena of Federal and State politics, but the world at large, with options for mining licenses on resource rich Mars and Uranus. 

Indeed, there are more than pockmarks and craters on Uranus!! find out in our next interstellar episode 

‘The dark side of the moon’, (where even the white bits are dark) 

‘Or it’s ol blue- eyes, is flashing his brown eye….again’!

Dear reader, this one comes to us via our sage of the  the near north, (Dame Ira) as a  reaction, doubtlessly triggered by our sage from the distant north-west who goes by the name of ‘Frank’. This letter talks about the systemic ingrained racism of them olden days, (about yesterday after 3.00 pm) . Good thing we’ve moved on. Cos now we only institutionally kill first Australians through the  “due process” of the criminal justice system,  a true sign of progress and enlightenemt .

The letter makes a simple observation about the efficacy of boot polish.

Dame Ira writes;

Oh, God help us! The blasphemy, the blasphemy!

We used to have ‘nigger brown’ (oh my god, who said that?) boot polish and people wore ‘nigger brown’ items of clothing  Makes you wonder how the word ‘Niger’ was originally pronounced. Makes you wonder if the word Niger’  was not a gentrification of the original ‘Nigger’, when ‘Nigger’ became a term of insult, a way of referring to a slave rather than a place of origin.

Some companies employed underage workers to keep stoves in good order.

 My mother referred to extremist anti-Catholic Northern Ireland people as ‘Black Protestants’. Even the Divil himself came in for a bit of the black stuff, If we kids arrived back home covered in mud and dirt from some huge adventure we’d be immediately ordered into the bathroom ‘because you are all filthy! You are as black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat!’.

Even when my sisters had outgrown them, their ‘gollywog’ dolls, they still turned up in wardrobes and drawers, so well regarded that my sisters were loath to discard them.

In London, in the sixties and seventies, to add pomp and ceremony to your entrance hall, you could buy a 19th cent antique figure, made from either papier mache or plaster, perhaps a bit more than a metre high. The figure was of a negro boy dressed in 18th century footman’s costume, holding a tray. Upon this tray you would place your visiting card where eventually, the butler would take your card up to the master’s rooms and the master would then decide if you were worthy of his company, or not. This was precisely the world of Mr Darcy, of Pride and Prejudice and the not unjustified suspicion that the bold Mr Darcy may have made his fortune by buying and selling ‘ Nigers’.

One other bit of speculation which I may have touched on in the past. I have often wondered about the word ‘maroon’ or ‘marooned’.

In eradicating the taint of stain, colour or germs in government policy it’s important to read the fine print.

The OED suggests that in French the word ‘marron’ refers to the sweet chestnut of Southern Europe.

The OED  also suggests that the Spanish word ‘cimarron’ refers to wild forested (chestnut?) country, but was also used to describe slaves who had escaped into the wild country of the West Indies.

It seems impossible to believe that slave ships, packed to the gunnels with slaves, would  not have had outbreaks of the common shipboard diseases. Dumping the dead in the sea and the dying on sparsely inhabited islands was probably the only way to stop the entire cargo from being infected. A lot of money had been spent purchasing ‘Nigers’ so all necessary precautions must be used.

Dumping recalcitrant, troublesome and plain dying ‘marrons’ must have been so common that even the threat of being ‘marroned’ (or marooned) at sea must have been enough to shut the noisiest of protesters. This seems to me a fair argument in favour of the origin of the modern word ‘maroon’.

 (Just in case I’ve failed to make my point properly, the marron is a French chestnut. The chestnut’s colour is close enough to the colour of  African skin for the ‘marron’ nickname to stick.)

Well now, the last little gem is a tin of  floor polish I treasure and which presently sits on my shelf.

Made by Houghton and Byrne Pty. Ltd.

225 George St., Sydney

Phone 27-1452 (10 lines)

Net contents 3 and a quarter ozs

Front of tin, a picture of a smiling male Aboriginal face.

Underneath the title of the polish:

PICCANINNY

 Dear God…

P.M and Energy minister point to long term objective lowering the National Standard Median Norm. Norm was not asked for his opinion.

Dear poetry lover, another pithy one from the man they call “Geoff”, I think you’ll agree with the editorial staff that Geoff’s view of Australian politics is cynical. In spite of a global rejection of fossil fuels it is encouraging to know that the Australian Government is still pursuing the objective of more COAL and more GAS! Proof that when leadership counts, Australia’s policies stand firm.

And in these troubled times, to know that our politicians are bereft of the taint of imagination is an encouraging sign indeed.

Take it away Geoff.

The political storm 

The view is growing dimmer, clouds are looming

It’s been four years or more,

Wish it were ten

They’re on the hustings trail

Prepare for wind and hail

It’s raining election promises, once again

The pollies are all smiling, kissing babies

Hot airs a’ blowin whilst they show us their form

With accusations flying, 

The opposition’s lying

Look out; here comes the media storm.

They’re running round the outback, high heels kicking

New Akubras they’ve been issued one and all

The carrots are a’ dangling,

Can’t see the truth for wrangling

The forecast is for flustered western squalls.

There’s a flood of grants and funding, procrastinated

More police and there’ll be doctors by the score

If you believe a word they’re saying

You’d better start a’ praying

Me; I’ve turned the TV off forever more.

© Geoff Boyes

Is NEV POWER the EVIL ONE?

Hot on the heals of the Federal Budget it’s encouraging to know that VISIONARY MINDS are keeping the promise of Franking credits ALIVE. But sadly, this is just a subterfuge for the ‘EVIL ONE’ who lurks beneath. Who is the EVIL ONE? Find out in this next paranormal episode.

Dear reader, with the trapdoor open, and our heroes poised above the abyss. Ces and Quent were awaiting the final curtain, and yet, there was still time. Time enough to reason with the collosus who goes by the name of ‘Angus’, and yet, there was no time. With the hour-glass emptying, what could they possibly do?.. find out in this next empathy draining episode. 

In a way, with immolation by drowning, (and some waving)  in raw sewerage we were glad to be the victims of a real  magician.  His  intelligence, as ever, made us glad, that although Australia now had the economic and structural complexity of place like Zimbabwe, (and Zimbabwe has visions of glory) we were glad that it was an Australian who could monetise the disaster of the collapse of manufacturing, the sequestering of universisities  to the status of tech colleges, and the debasement of a peoples thought via the imperitive of franking credits and stoking xenephobia. 

Laurie Connell. In W.A that’s shorthand for FUCKING LEGEND!

In this respect he was an unidisputed FUCKING GENIUS! And to be fair it was good on the Chinese to give the two Andrews’, Robb and Demetriou, Mr Whu, Jamie, Rupert, the man they call ‘Lindsay’, to this collosus of the Kleptocracy. ‘Lord Angus’. In  a way, Ces ruminated, he deserved it. He, above all the pretenders was the undisputed ‘MAN of OUR AGE’!. ‘He Is’,  and Ces paused to consider the weight of his observation;  ’Angus is the Nietschian “ SUPER MAN “ of the new millennia’. 

Given his  stewardship for the Murray Daring Basin into the haven they call ‘Cayman’.

With the new Port of  Darwin deal in the pipeline, and the rolaylties from pipelines of a ‘GAS LED RECOVERY’ to be constructed right across the continent and with the taxpayers covering his arse it’s the  best real estate deal since  COOK LANDED’!  

‘And he’ll stand to make a few trillion just outta REAL ESTATE  on the side.

And with Lawrie Connell as his worshipped idol we knew that in the greater scheme of things Lord Rupert of Murdoch and all his cronies were just chicken feed’. 

But Ces still didn’t get it. What compulsion drove him on, what slice of megalomanic hyper ego compelled him on and on, to just go further, and further? He felt just with seconds to spare he had to question this mastermind, and get at the very least one thread, some answer to the evil that corrupted everything!

‘What for’? 

What’s the point of it all? Dont you ever get bored of monetising everything?

Ces exasperated cried out, ‘We all remember Laurie Connell, the shonkster from W.A INC who greased up to Alan Bond’? Why should that greasy little piece of work inspire you? Australia has always had champions of sleaze and corruption, What made Laurie so special? 

BONDY and LANG HANCOCK opened up the WEST!

‘He was DIFFERENT’, the dull reply

You mean the little shit who got the ten million success fee for shafting Warwick Fairfax, Are you inspired by HIM’?

‘Yep the same’, 

‘The little turd who left Bondy in the lurch after pissing off with his testimonials, are you excited by HIS PATHETIC legacy of GRAFT and CORRUPTION’? 

‘the very same’,

‘The man who singlehandedly made ‘W.A  Inc’ a byword for corruption that would make Vladimir smile, and Terry Lewis a kindred spirit?

‘Yup you got it in one’. 

Luke and Darth both had a stake in ENERGY POLICY!

‘Lawrie,, was’ .. at this Taylor paused, he sniffled, and a tear formed in his eye, 

‘Lawrie’, he choked.

 He was holding something back, it was unsettling to see the Oceanic regions most powerful man consumed by emotion, , 

“Lawrie’, he stammered, he regained his composure, ‘Lawrie,, lalaaauuuuurrrrrriiiiiieeeeee……was MY DAD’!

You could hear a copy of Hansard Drop, 

Treasurer not interested

What will happen next in this turgid tissue-tearing travail of titivating tear-jerkdom? Will Ces and Quent ever get out of this mess? Find out in our next convulsive episode; “A leap into oblivion” or… ‘Two turds don’t make a sewer system”

GAS and COAL! Key to Australia’s RECOVERY!

Budget feedback. 

The wire has been twanging with furious activity since the Federal Budget, and we only have space to print two, but enough to feel the timbre of the moment. 

From Francesca, who’s postal address is ‘Beyond the black stump’!

‘Am I missing something? Was climate change mentioned? (by either major party).

What the fuck is all this ‘new normal’ caper? As if the old normal was so great.

Saw a good idea on TV (which will therefore not get off the ground- intended pun). Some Kiwi bod was suggesting a New Zealand exit tax. Money raised to be used for clean air initiatives. 

Rather neat, he mentioned something about people (both overseas visitors and locals) being willing to pay such a tax so as to (and I forget his exact words) salve their ‘carbon footprint embarrassment’

GAS, COAL and ‘SUPER_ MARIONATION’ will be our DESTINY!

Cheers all’,

And another from  Sweeney Street. Who has made a startling discovery. 

Read on : 

Chaps,

Believe it or not, (and I am sure it is directly connected to the Shite-geist ), in the  May 6th edition of the Age newspaper, there are nine (NINE!) full pages of Harvey Norman ads, plus four more full  pages of ‘Domayne’  furniture ads…. Far Canal…

Nev’s GAS-LED RECOVERY TASKFORCE in search of NEW OPPORTUNITIES!

I find this shameful, outrageous and downright insulting. This is not why I buy newspapers and besides, the predominant reds and blues of the HN ads leave distinctive Union Jack stripes on my post Empire and post big job Irish arse.

Now, understandably a lot of the Harvey Norman ads are for cooking appliances not the least of which are powered by gas. Imagine my confusion, (not to say chagrin) then when, in the the same May 6 edition, on the front page, down the bottom(and continued on page seven, with Editorial on page 10) there is an impassioned piece by Tom Cowie bringing to our attention the danger, to the children clustered round you, as you fling together a mess of potage  on the gas stove whilst all unwittingly providing your kids with an assortment of respiratory diseases provided by  the ‘nitrogen dioxide and certain forms of particulate matter such as PM2.5.’ given off by burning natural gas.

NEV POWER’S supernatural POWERS!

Well now… have they just discovered this? Is this something new, I ask myself, something some  sweatingly enthusiastic researcher has just discovered, a Eureka moment at midnight, a Tesla-like revelation to be shared immediately with the world?

Yes, of course it is! How ennobling then of HN, to so expose themselves in such a naked fashion to the possibility of litigation by advertising their gas-driven enthusiasms in the same paper as the Tom Cowie piece. Good on ’em, I say! What bravery, what courage, what selfless self sacrifice! Even from here, the sunlit uplands of Sweeney Court, I can sense the deep, deep level of HN grief, the unparalleled levels of guilt they must surely feel for those who must suffer the lifelong torture of asthma and assorted bronchial ailments. How, I ask, were HN to know? I can only conclude that the scientific community has failed them completely and utterly. Oh woe is me is all I can say… An Empire, a bastion, brought to its knees because of scientific frailty

The last word I leave to Percy Bysshe, whom, I am assured, only smacked poor Mary in the chops occasionally…

New Australian SPACE AGENCY UNIFORMS being trialled. Boosting Australian Manufacturing. (the badges will be proudly manufactured in Australia)

“I am Ozymandias, King of Kings!

Look on my works, ye mighty,

And despair…

GAS and COAL in the wrong hands, (climate change scientists and the taxpayer) can be DANGEROUS!

We asked the Federal Minister for Energy for his opinion, but he declined, being up to his armpits on delivering the GAS LED RECOVERY, CLEAN COAL, and THE CENTRE FOR NATIONAL RESILIENCE!

Angus, LHS in slouch hat poses as Supreme Commander Oceanic region, under slogan, ” manure spreadrs rejoice in the trickle down effect”!

Dear reader, 

From humble beginings, monetising the Murray-Darling basin.

Last thing we knew, our heroes, were being led away by the evil master-mind who just happened to be the Federal Minister for Energy, who also just happened to be the Supreme Commander of the Oceanic Region for the People’s Republic of China. 

He wore a Chinese Generals cap, upon his breast the order of Mao and Lenin, and upon his shoulder the Order of the Three Gorges, and protruding from it the order for a mixed Szechuan beef and Singapore noodles. Nothing could be more emblematic of the hold he had upon the entire Asia Pacific Region. The simple Red star upon his cap spelt it out. He held more hats than just energy, Jam -land, Clover Moore’s press releases and the bulk of Cayman Island tax havens courtesy of his stewardship of the Murray Darling Basin Plan. The Basin to Angus was just a spittoon, to the immeasurable ocean of his, and his family’s trust portfolio of interlinked overseas economic and strategic interests. And we? What was to become of us? Hapless souls. Innocents caught in this power play between finding the politician who had so heinously defiled our stenographer and occasional ‘Girl Friday’, Miss Culthorpe, and the evil, grasping,  calumny of Angus and his cohort, who would stop at nothing to gain total control at any price. To shackle the doomed taxpayers of what could only wryly be termed a Commonwealth of Australia. To convert us all into witness K’s? 

Angus, (third person lower rhs) proclaims ‘Three gorges Cayman Investment Plan’!

Our destiny as a peoples held in the balance? 

To be wiped out, converted to mere prawns of the uncooked variety? 

Ces and Quent, sole survivors and sole custodians to this villainous plot were about to be flushed down the plug hole? 

Unless, by some thin chance, by some quirk of circumstance, we could distract the EVIL ONE, and find as we had on the nations forecourt an escape from certain DEATH!!

‘Spirit of place’, Ghost Train

Whilst the nations great leaders talked ‘the drums of war’, in which evil Angus had a bob each way, our own bass drum was beating the slow rhythm to a death march, and we were the poor buggers slotted to be done in. We felt like the riders on  the Luna Park Ghost Train, and whichever way you looked at it, the top law man, the energy man and Australia’s greatest living decorated soldier ever, were looking the other way. And the worst thing, we couldn’t get off the bloody Ghost Train, the Rotor had closed down and the Giggle Palace was closed whilst they found mirrors big enough to reflect the countenance of Clive Palmer without him suing them. It was a bloody great mess, dog eat dog, or as we say in Mandarin; ‘dog eat dog’, and dear reader, it was about to get a lot messier still.. 

And one singular question remained unanswered, through all of this  was he really the definitive evil one? Referred to by our PM? Or was it after Angus’s soliloquy in fact Laurie Connell, that Svengali from W.A corp who had tutored Angus in his infancy? We may never know. Angus with a magisterial flick of his hand ordered, ‘Benny-Boy’, (our most famous-est and decorated soldier) to ‘take em away, on a special mission’. After everything that had gone down with Dutto what could a special mission mean? Just as Benny-boy grabbed our luckless heroes by the collars, the evil one, Lord Angus of Taylors and Lake Burley Griffin, (he had minerals and exploration options over the lake to be drained once the ink had dried on the hand-over) looked over them, he waved his baton, and proceeded to read for the latest edition of the ‘Catholic Boys Daily’, (the Australian) This was beyond cruel, it was triumphalist and proclaimed a pettiness that was beyond extreme. 

‘The fact is you never understood, your type never do. 

Giggle Palace, formerly house of Reps.

I’ll let you think about this editorial cleared by my boys at the Peoples Daily’, 

‘Federal alchemists are still working on the clean coal concept, We have it on good authority from Australia’s chief wizard, Lord Angus of Taylors Lakes, that just a few more spells are required, and the blood of newly born sacrificed to ensure that Coal can be cleansed and safely stored. This certainty backed by Peabodys and Monsanto is proof to the credibility of the Coalitions climate policy and the veracity of the astrological charts’. He continued, ‘is also an astronomical certainty, when Uranus is pointed due north, you can see right up Mars also’. 

Don’t you see boys whatever happens, you and the filthy taxpayer who cannot afford the luxury of an offshore tax haven or even a philanthropical trust are doomed. You’re no freer than Uighur’s, in a’ … he paused for the right epithet,… ‘a cage’ ? Suggested Ces. ‘Yes very apt a CAGE, that’s girt by sea. I Like that, ‘A cage that’s girt by sea” I’ll have to use that in my next address to the People’s Congress. 

‘The road for you boys is almost over, aint that right Benny? 

A grunt from behind us signalled Benny’s looming presence. 

Australia’s new synchrotron

You’ve dabbled, put your filthy toe into the pool and now it’s a gonna drown you’, 

A stainless steel trapdoor revealed itself, and below us, we could see the steaming rivulets of Canberra’s sewerage. The fundament that Benny-Boy, Dutto and ‘the evil one’ sought to refine and serve back to the Canberran whole foods community and thus render them as a force immobile. 

The liquefied oleaginous foecal goo loomed menacingly, “And now all I have to do is pat Benny Boy on the shoulder and it’s all over, 

You played and lost, or in the simple metrics of the case, you’ve spent your last penny’. 

Was this the breadth of his evil intent?  To sell the nation down the river for Jam…. land. 

Find out in or next ethically and grammatically compromised episode, 

at $2.50 a ride it was a ripoff

‘Jam land, with traces of organics,’ or ‘Tofu and Muesli don’t mix’. 

The Boyes Mk 3,  (they stole the blueprints)  being tested by the Peoples Liberation Army in an undisclosed location just outside Taiwan

Dear poetry lover, here’s another one from Geoff, and before we let Geoff claim the line honours, we should like to publish some of the correspondence we’ve received on the Boyes anti- tank rifle and its proud heritage. 

Testing the Boyes Mk 2. Forward defense for the National Centre for Resilience

This one comes to us from Gunner Gungreese, 14 M.G Coy 8th Div who writes; ‘I was readin Geoff’s poem and being reminded of the sore shoulder I got from the kick-back when we fired the bloody thing. It brought many memories back to me. Well I remember when we fired into that Jap tank and it actually stopped dead. We subsequently discovered the enemy had ran out of petrol, but it gave us hope in those dark days of Singapore. As the ‘drums of war beat again’, I yearn for the security and hope offered by these new subs, and the conversion of a row of Nissen huts in the scrub outside Darwin into a  “Centre for National Resilience’!

And this one. 

Historic baked beans tin, Centre for National Resilience, N.T

Having an anti-tank rifle that was not actually good at penetrating anything other than a tin of baked beans was a masterstroke of strategic planning, in as much as the new French sub fleet, ready in 2052, and the 500 million spent on the new AWM extension, ‘Frontier Wars in other Fronteirs  other than our Own’ will keep any would-be agressor on guard. For they will know that to attack Australia, is to attack Australian VALUES!  As it is for thinkers, members of the  intelligentsia and ordinary folk who are not TRADIES! And to do so will involve a slow death by necrosis of the brain- stem’

Yours, Mike Peluzzo, Strategic Policy think-tank Asio Headquarters Canberra. 

Now for something more strategic than square, the box they call  Pandora. Who was she? 

Fer Chrissakes dont open Pandoras bloody BOX!

Rumour heard doing a parliamentary internship with Alan Tudge. 

Pandora’s Box

You don’t want to go there

Don’t want to open up that lid

Better off not knowing

The things inside, you keep hid

He bloody opened it and it’s doin him in just seconds after he bloody went and opened it!

Once let loose, you can’t escape

The corpses and the ghosts

You let them out, you’d best beware

You might escape…. almost

Laid bare the ghouls and goblins

The shades, littering your past

Nothin’ but a trail of destruction

You’d best be leavin’ fast

As a kid he was always full o fun and he could open any bloody box he desired!

Forgotten lies and secrets 

They flitter and they flaunt

Dragging down tomorrow

Coming back to haunt

They mock your past, your future

Revealing all your shame

Demons, fiends and phantoms

And other things you can’t name

But Pandora snared him! This is what happens to clean living blokes who ignore warnings!

You try and try, to shut that lid

To put the creatures back

But they only serve to emphasize

The self-control you lack

But there’s no way that you can win

Can’t shut pandora’s box

The only hope, release the past

Cast away the chains and locks

Pandora’s next victim?

Dear reader, as you may recall our heroes, up to their necks in raw sewerage since they dived for the person-hole outside the Nations capital forecourt. And why did they dive? 

Is that the Climate Policy?

They were pursued by a throng, a riotous assembly of angry women. Determined to sacrifice two men as a demonstration of their anger, righteous anger at the patriarchy. And as they were borne away from certain death down a conduit of sewerage flowing into and not away from parliament they were plucked by none other than Australia’s most decorated soldier ever. “Benny-Boy and his master ‘Dutto’! But worse was to come!  Imperilled, endangered, and forsaken, they were forced to follow Benny on  a special mission only to confront the master-mind, the master-mind who controls Canberra and everything.  Their arch nemesis, the man who goes by the name ‘Angus’, and to their shock he’s working as an operative for the Chinese Communist Party, by being a fully fledged General in the People’s Republic Army! Can it get any worse, ? 

The core principe at the Centre of National Resilience is to obey the code of MATESHIP’! And in doing so monetise federal policy to MATES!

Find out in this next Sino sinuous episode as the imperilled heroes find themselves needing a Centre of National Resilience!!

Read on…..

There was no mistaking it, Angus loomed evilly, If ever Fleming needed a stand in for ‘Dr No’ this was it. His uniform, displaying the supreme commander of the oceanic region was resplendent with the Order of Mao, the Order of Lenin, and the Order for Szechuan Beef, won-tons braised in Coelocanth* and a side serving of Singapore Noodles.  The Field Marshalls baton said it all, ‘No 1 citizen’, and just for clarification, Angus shone a light into an alcove all painted in red and gold, and there for our benediction a portrait of Angus and Xi playing Mahjong. What further proof would be required we arks you?

But with such a shocking revelation we only knew of one thing, we were not going to be able to alert our fellow citizens, as there was obviously too much at stake. 

‘There was a climate policy quoth he’,

Angus laughed; ‘You know what they say, if you put your head to close to the wok burner you’ll get deep-fried, and I’ve gotta thank you Benny-boy for your unswerving loyalty to me, and the people I serve’. 

‘You swine’! Ces ejaculated, selling your own countrymen down the Yangtze, have you no shame’?

Angus laughed, ‘Shame, you’d think after Clover-gate got done with the help of my mates at the ‘Peoples Daily’ I suffered shame? You think after I diddled the Murray Darling I evinced shame? You think after I made Jam-Land and my position as Energy Minister fully monetised  I stumbled for shame?

You can call it shame, but I call it the main game. 

When iron ore goes up, I WIN!

When China black-bans wine, beef, crayfish and barley I WIN !

Wen Darwin port gets signed over to me mate Andrew Robb I WIN!

And when the taxpayers buy it back at ten times the price I WIN!

Twins

Even’, he had a laugh which became infections, Benny boy harrumphing in chorus; ‘and even if Labor wins the next election I WIN. 

Whichever finger and any pie I WIN, you see thats the main game. WINNING!!!!

Harold taught me that’. 

‘Harold’? I was dumbfounded, ‘you’re taking Holt’?

‘Yep mate, Harold taught me everything, you don’t think we go on these trade missions for nothing, Harold has coached all of us into how to make reward for members of the party’.

‘The Liberal Party’, Ces trembled? ‘Nup for fucksakes, where you’ve been? The Communist Party! They’ve got more Cayman Island accounts than you’ve got brain cells, and they’ll have more next year and the next year and the year after. 

Monetising Extinction

Cos they’ve got a five year plan, and then another and another’. ‘And all we get’, Ces muttered wryly is Border Force and a Centre for National Resilience’. ‘Took the words outta my mouth, whilst Scomo decorates laziness, do-nothing policies with euphemisms, we forge on. Either way, we WIN’!

‘Anyway you look at it, I WIN! When Taiwan falls I WIN! And when Australia is “conditioned” you know what the answer will be, and at this he loomed menacingly, grabbed the AK 47 off the shelf, and whistled a few bars from ‘the East is Red” I WIN!

‘Jeez Angus what drives you to this sick parody of success’? 

‘My tutor, my sage, my idol’, 

‘What Mao’? 

‘Nup Lawrie,’ 

‘Everything I learnt was from Laurie Connell, he showed me the way ever since he stiffed that chinless git Warwick Fairfax. Since then, in armaments production, the procurement of subs, the new telcos, coal, oil, and renewables, I WIN. Its like the butterfly sneezes, someone in the world sneezes I WIN’. 

Laurie Connell, inventor of the five year plan. W.A Inc.

‘But winning isn’t everything’, 

Wanna make a bet? And you know what they say, Winners are grinners” 

Angus turned to us, and this was the scary part, he was wearing make-up and rouge had been smeared ungraciously across his cheeks.  In his Chinese Communist Party generals uniform he looked both frightening and surreal. If this was the end of the world, this was the devil incarnate. This was business practise 101 endorsed by Lawrie Connell. 

‘How can you sleep’?

‘Comfy mate, my pillow is stuffed with bit-coin. All senior party officials deal ONLY in bitcoin’. 

‘You scoundrel, you thief, you lick-spittle’, 

‘Yep, and loving it. 

Take em Benny-Boy’!

What has Angus in store? Will this really be the end or will there be another twist in the tail? Find out in our next cross-dressing episode; ‘Is that a wonton in your pocket or are you just pleased to sue me’? or ‘Three gorges and be DAMNED’!!!

• Coelocanth Prized by Senior party officials as a proven aphrodisiac.