(Above: the Battle of Isandlwana, 22nd January, 1879 in which some 12,000 Zulus wiped out some 1,200 men of the 1st and 2nd Battalions 24th Foot, and the 5th Brigade, Royal Artillery. We're still checking out a rumor that Piers Akerman's great uncle was part of the battalion, thereby explaining his hostility to darkies in the dark continent, but we're positive it's scurrilous).
As the first chill of winter hits loon pond, the loons have been doing their best to don a quietly respectable plumage. The squawking is muted, and the boat people have been left alone for a moment, though surely there'll be another fine flurry of fury before the year is out.
Zuma outraged women’s organisations with the claim that she had provoked the sexual encounter by wearing a “kanga”, a wrap-around traditional garment.
Bryce, an old Labor Party activist who has had her share of patronage jobs, including the post of Equal Opportunity Commissioner, should have a lot to talk to Zuma about and given her new-found knowledge of the Dark Continent should zip over herself.
Meantime, over at The Sydney Morning Herald, Miranda the Devine spends a large number of words trawling through the distressing case of a boy lost and dead in the Blue Mountains, and failed by the triple-O emergency service. The only remarkable thing about her re-hash of the story is that she doesn't blame the callousness of the culture in the call centre on either unions or lefties (or greenies). (Lack of empathy failed a boy).
Over at the Daily Terror, Piers Akerman, our very own fat owl, spends his column berating Jacob Zuma, and his imminent success in the current South African election (Zuma Zuma - democracy's fast track to a certain death).
Zuma's not the kind of populist politician worth defending, and he's likely to take South Africa down the wrong path, especially if land redistribution sends the country in the direction of Zimbabwe.
The only fun to be had is to see how the fat owl manages to suddenly get righteous and indignant about all sorts of new-fangled leftie hippie issues as a way of giving Zuma a whack across the chops.
The dear boy almost begins to sound like a feminist as he berates Zuma for his multiple wives, his treatment of his wives, and his rape charge.
Zuma outraged women’s organisations with the claim that she had provoked the sexual encounter by wearing a “kanga”, a wrap-around traditional garment.
Piers so cares about outraged women's organizations. I guess we can now look forward to many indignant columns by Piers berating the rape culture in rugby league in particular and certain macho boofhead parts of Oz culture at large.
Piers also berates Zuma for claiming that, after having sex with an HIV-positive family friend, he had subsequently taken a vigorous shower as a protection against infection, thereby upsetting anti-AIDS organizations.
On a roll, he then proceeded to antagonise homosexual groups by declaring he would have knocked gay men down if they had appeared before him when he was younger.
Piers so cares about not antagonizing homosexual groups. I guess that means we can look forward to many positive columns by Piers, taking an anti-Zuma stand, by being very positive about gay men (or even women) and homosexual groups, and anti-AIDS organizations fighting the good fight. Why he might even dress up for Mardi Gras and dance in the streets.
Don't hold your breath.
For then you see he has to go and ruin it all, by acting like poor old Clive Dunn fighting against the fuzzy wuzzies in Dad's Army. He simply can't resist having a go at Quentin Bryce and her trip to Africa to try to get Australia one of the floating seats in the United Nations Security Council.
Well we all know that the UN is the source of the black helicopters that taunt right wingers around the world, so kowtowing and trying to curry favor with a fuzzy wuzzie like Zuma is (a) curry eating in a useless cause and (b) reprehensible in a useless cause and (c) comical in a useless cause.
Ah yes, that Bryce, an activist and a patronage rorter, and a woman to boot. A Zuma fellow traveller and a kowtower.
Will she be asked to sing along to Zuma’s favourite election anthem Bring Me My Machinegun, or permitted to lip-synch?
Or will she have to wait until Zuma’s ever-ready cows come home?
Ah yes, she should zip over to the Dark Continent. That'd be the one full of Darkies I reckon. Well I guess if you lay off feminists and gays for a column, a bit of generic black bashing is the only way to relieve the pressure point in the temple.
How about a cheap tasteless joke to go out on, one that manages to slag off Zuma and Quentin Bryce and lines her up to be one of Zuma's new brides, which will of course entitle her Zulu-style to a nice dowery of cows?
Go for it fat owl. Things are terribly quiet and dull on loon pond.
Or will she have to wait until Zuma’s ever-ready cows come home?
Haw haw, zinger fat owl. That'll teach those feminists. First the come on, then the whack across the chops with a nice dead salmon. This is rich territory Piers, and we look forward to many jokes about squaws and wampum in the months to come, the rich warmth of laughter coursing through our veins and saving loon pond from the winter chill.
(Below: brave Piers on a tour of Africa, sent there since we much prefer his diplomatic style to Quentin Bryce, as he licks those darkies into shape. Oh wait is that a snap of the explorer Stanley? Never mind, the Victorian mindset is the same. And further below: favorite reading of the fat owl and Stanley, heroes of the dark continent).
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