There has been no occasion too small for Smirko to fail to rise to.
Have you heard about the loathsome loser? He’s a loser but he still keeps on lyin’.
Loathed in Tory heirloom electorates, despised by many of his own MPs, hated by Victorians and Western Australians and abhorred by women, he’s even been called out by the puce-headed, bibulous slothario of bovine stupidity and dodgy morals who is his deputy. How low can you go when you cannot even meet the standards of a fornicating Father Jack in a comically over-sized cowboy hat?
His values are not so much formed by self-interests as being entirely replaced by them. A delusional narcissist and reflexive liar in the Trumpian style he’s devoid of introspection and hostile to critique. His kevlar self-belief is centred on the ludicrous notion that an omnipotent, super-natural being, creator of all things, took a personal interest in his career. ‘Everything is permissible when The Big Guy is on your side’ was too tempting a concept for an amoral hypocrite – he embraced the god-helps-those-who-help-themselves sophism like Barnaby clenches a cold beer.
It takes a monumental ego and a cloth ear to campaign on the concepts of acceptable government corruption, lowered wages, disenfranchisement of women and the legitimisation of trans trauma. WTAF, apart from a belief in his own genius and celestial sponsorship encourages him to dismiss the concerns of all but the hard-core arseholes and wannabe Big Swinging Dicks, to lie so casually and so conspicuously, to trumpet his failures as successes, his indolence as hard work and his grift as virtue and then shamelessly lay claim to the achievements of others? Is he that bereft of self-awareness or is he merely an unapologetic, whatever it takes shyster?
“I. Am. The. Prime. Minister.” This is a bloke who preens and smarms as heroic leader. The alpha male, a national saviour who enjoys a beer with the boys, the boss cocky who’s good on the tools, the big dog who can run up a chook pen, a Churchill pointing at maps, resolute leader of men in times of strife. Is he fooling himself as much as he tries to fool the rest of us?
More timorous coward than the Brave Sir Scotty of his own narrative, he hid behind the curtains when confronted by angry women. He fled from flood victims. He abandoned the country in a crisis. He was laughed at by backbench oblate spheroids Craig Kelly and Gorgeous George Christensen whose only claims to formidability would be at a hoppo-bumpo jamboree.
Everything this fucker does is calculated. He may have an unwavering belief in his own god-ordained destiny but he’s prepared to dispense with any principle, any standard of integrity and degrade any institution to fit his own agenda – himself. He frames decency as weakness, he shouts and hectors, he punches down and bullies. He is, by any measure, a complete turd.
The focus groups have confronted him with an uncomfortable truth. Despite the anti-Labor histrionics and ScoMo™ hagiographies of Murdoch’s pamphleteers, the bias of the Stokes/Costello bobble-heads and the Vichyesque collaborators and whipped dogs in the ABC the revealed truth is that he is a widely detested creep. For a wanker who saw himself as the Tories’ best selling point, as a marketing savant and an admired man of the people and showed every sign of believing his own “I saved the country” bullshit it would have been a rude shock. I would’ve paid good money to be the PMO operative who broke the news to him. It would’ve been a challenge not to snigger.
Now he says he will change but he will see no need to do so.
His nastiness is innate. His disdain for the unfortunate, the underprivileged and the merely unlucky and those not voting for him is genuine. If you’re not prospering it’s your own fault, if you’ve been the victim of a disaster you’re on your own, if you didn’t vote for him then ‘fuck you’. It will be women who will contribute the most to the demise of this bullying misogynist but the ultimate irony is that this loathsome loser is about to be sacked when according to his personal dogma it’s his own unworthiness that will bring it about.
Sit down, take a look at yourself
Don’t you want to be somebody?
Someday somebody’s gonna see inside.
You have to face up, you can’t run and hide.
(Lonesome Loser, Little River Band)
This article was originally published on Grumpy Geezer.
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