Electro Therapy by Warrigal
“Now that the dust has settled on the recent Liberal leadership contest the Liberal Media Communications Unit has released intimate images of the work that went on behind the scenes to bring about this glorious rebirth. In this shot we see Nick “Doc. Frankenstein” Minchin ably assisted by his midwife Igor…, sorry that should read, Wilson “Testicle Electrodes” Tuckey, as they make the final adjustments to the neck bolts of their shiny new monster. The original monster watches on.
NB: (Though dead Ming is by tradition always present at nodal moments, and it is a condition of acceptance into the modern Liberal Party that the applicant agree with the 61 year old political theories of Ming “The Original Liberal” Monster.)”
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
Today we hear the Wong won’t be negotiating with the Greens to get the legislation through.
Fresh from her triumph mishandling Turnbull’s support and playing an instrumental part in the rise of Abbott, she will seek to reprise her role as a failure in negotiation by spurning the one party in parliament that actually has green runs on the board.
Beggars belief.
So, given that they won’t get any support from the LNC, who seem to all be suffering some sort of gestalt madness, and they won’t negotiate with the Greens, and the cross bench sitters are all stooges that seem to change their minds when the winds become light and variable; just where does she think the support is going to come from. The numbers in the senate remain the same as prior to Copenhagen, what a bloody shambles that turned out to be, we can only assume that this was perhaps scripted from the start. Its possible that the Rudd team never had any real commitment to dealing with the problem. Rudd and Wong’s acceptance of 2 degrees in the face of the science that describes just what sort of change 2 degrees will mean, shows they either don’t understand the science or aren’t interested.
Just so everyone’s clear here. A 1 metre sea level rise will decimate the northern beach suburbs of Sydney, I’ve done a map, not to mention many low lying areas up harbour in the submerged river valleys that fed the ancestral Parramatta River. As I think I’ve said before, all Sche and I have to do is wait and once the Chatswood Public Golf Course goes under we’ll have waterfront property, if we live that long.
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Once when my parents’ faithful old washing machine had finally expired, the salesman for a potential replacement told my father that it was guaranteed they’d still be using it in twenty years time. Now that’s value for money!
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My mother’s first modern washing machine was a Westinghouse. Primitive by today’s standards with just a bowl and agitator and a dual roller mangle on top. It was purchased in 1959 when we moved to Orange and followed us from house to house until I took it to Sydney when I started Uni and it did for us students for a few years more until the gearbox, which looked like it came from truck, seized.
One of our number in that house in Darghan Street, a country boy like me but from Tamworth, was a geology student with an interest in lapidary work. He salvaged the bowl and the gearbox, which he fixed and modified and that served him as a primary tumbler right up until the early nineties. When I asked him what had happened to it, having noticed it was no longer in the corner of his shed, he said he had to throw it out because it was “beyond saving”.
I must admit to feeling a small twinge of loss. Its not often we get to imbue the inanimate with ideas of fidelity and long service. (I must see if the mower will start.)
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I know what you mean, Mirri… I feel much the same way about my zombie-telly.
🙂
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It wasn’t the twenty years for the washing machine that my father was interested in. More the guarantee that they’d still be around to use it.
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It’s all Wudd’s fault. If only he had explained it better. He was just so Rong.
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I meant the taxes. He threw Abbott a lifeline.
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Why explain when you can mouth platitudes?
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The sad bloody thing though, voice, is that the “average” aussie, Joe, Mick or nick the Greek is very average, indeed and can only understand “footy talk” or footy-like talk. In any case, they either “like” you or “hate” you and if you’re in the second category, you can explain things in the simplest or in most complex words and phrases: they’ll have their ears shut before you open your mouth.
It’s something teachers find out not long after they take up their occupation: mention the word “grammar” and the walls come down; but gently explain -as an aside while you’re doing quite something else- that they’re looking at a personal pronoun, or even a passive participle and it’s likely to register. Same with the average aussie. Platitudes, Latitudes and even Longtitudes will make no difference if they “hate” you or if they’ve already made up their mind.
Also, there must be thousands of subject that no matter how gently they are explained to me I’ll never understand them. Astrophysics, microbiology, brain surgery etc, etc. At the end, one reads as much as one can, listens to all the speakers he can cope with and finally, use his instincts. I can understands bits and pieces of the problem facing the planet and I can understand some of the debaters but I have yet to get a full enough picture of it, one that I am so confident with, that I can describe to anyone else. But, in the end, I’d rather err on the cautious side than on the “don’t understand it, don’t vote for it” side.
Alas!
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You don’t understand brain surgery??
They tried to get me to have some to become an Aussie. But I said that I needed the cells.
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If they could turn back time, oops, looks like they have
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Can’t get enough of the three stooges.
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