A draft obituary for the election aftermath
In anticipation of the political passing of our soon to be ex-PM I thought I’d get ahead of the pack and celebrate early, confident that I do not have the power to spoil the outcome by doing so.
A most amusing irony in the removal of the blunder omnibus that was MIA Morrison’s toxic government will be his attempt to reconcile his belief in divine endorsement of his worthiness with his humiliating loss of office due in no small part to ‘acts of God’. He would’ve made a pathetic yet also gratifying spectacle when on his knees (that peculiar, buttockless derriere overflowing his flanny jim-jams) praying for an explanation from his celestial sponsor – the one whose advice he sought over that of experts and scientists. The for once non-practised tears and choking voice would damn the lazy coward for the hypocrite and fraud that he was.
Lauded by Trump, a carrot-coloured, psychotic narcissist with whom he celebrated many shared values and yet perversely also called by God, F. Scott Fitzfuckup PM was a fatuous blaggard of no discernible decency or talent beyond posturing and the avoidance of accountability. He was an opportunist of disposable principles whose instinct in any circumstance, however dire, was to hide while looking for angles that served his own interests and for scapegoats to finger for his own failings. As with so many mediocre men he had in his possession an entirely undeserved self-belief and relentless ambition unhindered by merit.
As the country and the world moved on around him The Great Schmo, a flailing middle manager, flattered himself with the title of ‘leader’. A petty mind further constrained by a literal belief in Santa Claus for adults, a practised liar, a deceiver, a manipulator, a shrivelled, one-dimensional intellect, a light-weight incapable of reflection or forethought, mentored by a grifter, impervious to self-reflection. A lazy laggard with the underlying condition of smarm that typified the shameless big-noter.
There was no occasion too small for Skiddy to fail to rise to. Untroubled by scruples, honesty or shame he would claim credit for the work of others and deny his own well-documented fuck-ups. Like all poseurs and bullies, he was a coward. Frightened by feisty women, intimidated by the rubes of the Rustic Party, reduced to pathetic whimperings when confronted by the blatherings of twin non-entities Colonel Blimp Kelly and his rotund, fellow nutter-in-residence Buoy George Christensen.
He surrounded himself with sycophants, he used “Jen and the girls®” as human shields, no child, living or dead, was safe from being used as a prop, no brazen photo-op was too shameful. There was no bar too low, no issue he wouldn’t politicise, no expectation he couldn’t disappoint, no accountability he couldn’t dodge, no rort he wouldn’t exploit. There were no fringe loonies from climate conspiracists to neo-Nazis he wouldn’t dog-whistle. Victim blaming, bullying and backgrounding were his specialties.
Aggrieved by the concept of proactive government he was nevertheless comfortable with the notion that he was deserving of two publicly funded and staffed mansions and a retinue of minions and minders. The reality check of voter anger, disappointment and regret affronted his entitlement and was explained away as a failing on the part of the electorate. For Scotty, someone else was always to blame.
He sought power for power’s sake, refusing to exercise it (“… that’s not my job”), choosing indifference and invisibility in times of crisis while defaulting to his failed travel agent’s propensity for self-aggrandisement whenever opportunity arose. Why did he think his God wanted him in the job? To abandon those covered in ash, smoke and mud as being unworthy? To treat climate change and a rampant pandemic as his God’s will and not to be interfered with? To leave it to his disaster capitalists cronies to find profit in misfortune in line with the dogma of his weird prosperity cult?
“Getting government out of people’s lives” to leave them at the mercy of can-do fossil fuel oligarchs, party chums and Jesus retailers who, it must be said, have an admirable creative portfolio of schemes to transform public money and resources into super yachts, family trusts and property portfolios – the trickle-down of our money to their mates – Skiddy’s small government free-marketeer chums who subsidised their friends and regulated their enemies.
At last there is one government that is out of our lives – the most incompetent and corrupt in our history.
Morrison’s greatest contribution to high office was being removed from it.
References
Hidden detail in Scott Morrison’s Instagram post sparks outrage. Yahoo News.
“The pattern is that if you attack Scott Morrison… he will lash out and background against you in the most vicious of ways.” Samantha Maiden, The Drum
“Morrison always presents himself as the answer to the problems he creates.”
“… the extraordinary reframing of abject failure as courageous leadership.”
“An administrator not a leader; The reason why he’s behind on issues is because he waits for the polling before acting.” The New Daily
“Where would this man be without pollsters dictating his every utterance?” Dennis Atkins, In Queensland
“Morrison’s whole career has been based on the ability to leave jobs unfinished while getting himself promoted out of trouble.” Richard Dennis, The Saturday Paper
This article was originally published on Grumpy Geezer.
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