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Abbottlung – the return of the Warrigal
18 Monday Oct 2010
Posted in Politics in the Pig's Arms, Warrigal Mirriyuula
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Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle %d
Yo Warrigal! Good to see you back in action!
🙂
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Good song WM
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A favourite of mine from the slowly dimming past.
I just like the idea of Abbott being irrelevant and unheeded, which is of course how it should be for him. It was then the shortest step to Aqualung.
(Actually “Benefit” and “Thick As A Brick” are two of my favourite albums from that early seventies era. I like Aqualung too but not as much.)
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Excellent. The illustration is soooooo good.
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Whar, thank you ma’am.
(The orthopaedic surgeon looks at his patient’s x-rays then down to his badly bruised and trussed leg.
“Well it’s bad, but not as bad as we thought.” says the surgeon. “The bad news is your x-rays show you have an ugly multiple fracture of your tibia and a greenstick fracture of your fibula.
The patients face falls. He can feel the pain coming back.
“But the good news,” says the surgeon affably, “is that we can fix them for you in Photoshop.”)
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I thought he seemed a lot more energized until the possibility of getting the top job. Did it seem to anyone else that they were both a bit reluctant? That’s what made me think the country might be a bit broke. There were a lot of new votes just before the election. New voters have a tendency to go for the new guy I’ve heard. And still they came out even.
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Still. They were both new at the top job. So I guess that didn’t count.
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Howz going Warrigal?
Giving us a welcome relieve from those deeply personal affronts towards Abbott elsewhere. Personally I can’t get too involved with lovers of the bicycle seat or canary snugglers.
May his last dying breath rattle on amongst the madness of spring flowers.
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We can but hope G; and yes, it’s going well. Thanks for asking.
I’m with Bella Voce on this. Neither side seems to offer anything that I can recognise as adequate to the times, so I guess it’s Gillard by a nose. (Man: My dog has no nose. Friend: Really? How does he smell? Man: Awful!)
But Abbott remains anathema. Like his vile little forebear Howard, he just turns my stomach, makes my flesh creep. I actually itch when he comes on the box.
An eternity at The Matthew Talbot would be too good for the bastard. I dream of a future where he’s like that character from Catch 22, I can’t remember the name, who having falsely signed up for flying time he had no intention of completing, becomes “invisible ” to all the other characters when the aircraft he is supposed to have been on, crashes as the terminating point of another narrative sub arc. They simply don’t see him though he is right there in front of them telling them that they’re mistaken, he’s alive, he wasn’t on the plane that crashed. The other characters “remember” him briefly before putting him from their minds.
In the immediate aftermath he can be seen occasionally wandering aimlessly through the background of various scenes, looking increasingly dishevelled as the movie progresses, until he simply disappears.
Could we hope for a more fitting end for the Abbott? Humane and inexpensive. He could be his own little bishopric of one, wandering the world unseen, unheeded; mumbling his impoverished philosophy to only himself, the idiot flow punctuated now and then by the imperatives of bodily function.
Are ya wi’ me G? Huh, are ya? Are ya?
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Waz, thanks for reminding me about Catch 22. I dimly remember the bloke who didn’t die in the crash but after everyone treating him like he had, he sort of obliged.
The first and last time I saw the movie was in the bloody cinema when it was on new release. Amazing ! Must hire it from the video store. Lack the time to read the book although I suspect that may be more rewarding.
Purgatory is too good for Abbott. I’d put him in the lowest and newest level – Telstra – remember my pic request ? Huh ?
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Yes…Mr Abbott to a T.
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The flowers, Mike Jones, that bloom this spring have nothing to do with this case. I choose to take under my wing tra la this most unattractive old thing tra la with a caricature of a face, of course with a caricature of a face, and that truly rooly is meant when I sing of a thing Jonesy it’s as welcome as flowers that bloom (jollyfully) this spring, tra la tra lala la tra la tra lala la, the flowers that bloom o’the sp-r-i-n-n-n-n-g. 🙂
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I love a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan. They’re so Jethro Tull, aren’t they ?
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Rootin tootin’ boot scootin’ Emmjay. That Gilbert and Sullivan strike a chord in all conscience. Strikes. Resonate. Resonates. Strikes a light. Bewtiful, cobber. Jethro Tull are a bonzer…
Coffee, gotta getta Java. 😉
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This comment should be framed sandshoe.
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I like that idea. I got home to Abbottlung, tired, confronted out of any ordinary mindset by a killer bus driver who drove like a bat out of hell in disguise as a smart uniform and talked over his shoulder to a drunk bloke that the drunk bloke if he was needing a better job orter look in the paper and apply for a job driving buses. Drunk or sober is anybody’s guess but the driver was not known to the drunk bloke or vice verse. Y’ need a licence fhrsshht, said the drunk bloke. What’s that, asked the driver, swivelling his head backwards and forwards. A lissshenence, the drunk bloke said. What do you mean, asked the driver. I’ve never had a licesssince for anyhthing, I can drive ’em all though, that would be fun achtshelly. What age are you, asked the driver. 54, replied the drunk bloke. Well, you get the paper, said the driver as he swung his bus round a stobie pole and righted it onto 8 of its 117 tyres, Look I’m sure you can do ok. No skin off y’ nose to get a licence. Let’s face it, they’re offering up to 35 thou’. Lemme think. That’s … wassat …700. Spare me, I thought as I stepped out of the bus.
So much tests a woman of uncertain age, Voice. 😉
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Thank you Voice. I think I will frame this. 😉
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‘Shoe, may I introduce you to Warrigal Mirriyuula – our peripatetic digital mischievist. His first appearance since your arrival at the Pig’s Arms. I’m hoping for one of his written pieces – the continuation of his shaggy dog stories “Mongrel and the Runt”.
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How-de-do, Warri. If this is fair example of Warrigal’s work Emmjay, we’ll not want this coming winter.
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It’s nothing, really. Just a little something I knocked up when I realised I hadn’t maligned Abbbott on this blog for some time.
I’m operating on a reverse version of the “build it and they will come” principal. I figure that if I keep tearing him down he might eventually be forgotten. An outcome to be devoutly wished for.
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I’m with you Warrigal. Please knock up some more little somethings – anytime, but soon preferably.
You (your work) makes me feel so good.
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