Ruddite

The dishcloth has landed. It was unfair, but the phrase kept nibbling at my ear, one of those ear-worms like an advertising jingle. Maybe that was the problem. I have never met the man, and the TV cut of an election victory speech is not the best way to get someone at their avuncular best.

It was, he said, a great day for a great Australia with great amibitions and a great future and he thanked his great wife along with all the great party hacks, not to mention the great voters who'd found John-the-Great ratty at last, not to say grating, and chosen to make a great decision for a great Australia and annoint him Kevin-the-Great. KtG had received fantastic help from fantastic people and it was, well, a fantastic moment.

There's something about a man's vocabulary that ruins his tuxedo every time, unless he is on life-support from a speech maker. If KtG actually has a speech maker, they should both spend three months in detox, on bread and water, maybe breaking rocks in a frigid North Korean quarry for the Dear Leader.

With Bush-baby it was his verbal attachment to that cloudy blue-sky thing called "freedom". You never quite knew freedom for whom to do what, when and how, or to whom, but your unease rapidly set to the certainty that it was freedom for Bush-baby to "decide". Mainly he decided to destroy America and remake Americans as zombies for the Evil Empire. This happened to involve cannibalizing the world along the way. Bush-baby was hardly unique. He just happened to be a frat-boy bully in the most gunned-up dormitory on the campus. If you went across the park, O-bin-Baby was a graduate of that place which gives 200 lashes to a woman who is gang raped. O-bin-Baby's mantra of course was moral purity with a chastity belt of plastic explosives.

The trouble with dish cloths is that they get smudged by yucky stuff and bad germs. That's domestic life for you. KtG has been a very well behaved dish cloth though, and regularly put up with being stuffed in the microwave for a spin to kill off the nasties. Now, after promising never to loop the loop, he has been given a licence to fly as a regular magic carpet. He is probably the pilot that well fed Australians deserve. But damnit, can he swear a good oath, pull off that yellow tie, and get a nation of fat bums and square eyes to someplace really interesting ?