Janet "Dame Slap" Albrechtsen has just yesterday delivered some hearty whacks to Governor-General Quentin Bryce, so what does the fat owl do? That's right, in a wholly original fat owlish way, he delivers some hearty whacks to Governor-General Quentin Bryce, in a column with the header PM's spear-chucker is woefully off target.
Now I suppose the sensible response would be to say "move along people, nothing original to see here", but it's really interesting to see what the fat owl actually offers in the way of logical, coherent arguments about our terrifying, alarmingly activist G-G.
Well it's the usual whingeing smut which reveals much more about the fat owl than anybody or anything else. It seems he's deeply disturbed that the G-G is off to Africa to deepen relations with that sinister land.
Well of course there's not much point in that is there - it's the "dark continent" (well at least he didn't say it's full of darkies). It's also full of tinpot dictators running sham democracies. No need to go there.
No, no, why not go to visit Fiji, where the rambunctious coup leader Bainimarama is in charge. She could organise a countercoup perhaps. Or what about New Guinea, where she could head up a hospital tackling HIV-AIDS, which has reached catastrophic proportions.
But fat owl, we hate activist G-G's. We hated that filthy Johnny Kerr and the way he took orders from that odious pseudo-liberal Malcolm Fraser, and set him up in office. We hated that interventionist Billy Dean and his talking up social justice. We especially hate the Queen with all her promotion of British interests, yabbering on about British industries and British culture and talking about social justice like she cares about East Enders. The cheek of it all.
So yeah, let's send the G-G around the Pacific, sorting out all the trouble spots on all the islands. Like New Zealand's addiction to cheese and rugby and sheep.
Oh I get it. You're joking. What a card. So funny. She's Sweeney Bryce. As in Sweeney Todd. Sagely the fat owl tells us that's Cockney rhyming slang for Flying Squad. Well you old ideas tea leaf, I guess that means if someone called you a Hampton Wick you'd know they'd be taking the Mickey Bliss to give you a kick up the Khyber Pass, wouldn't you?
It seems Bryce is being used by the Ruddster to fill a seat on the UN Security Council - a "costly and essentially meaningless exercise that will do little more than pander to Rudd's risible ambition to achieve some sort of global stature."
Which explains why the Howard government was so keen in 1996 to win a seat, and failed dismally for a variety of reasons, including being lick spittle lackeys of Washington, cuts to foreign aid and Hansonism.
Poor old Alexander Downer tried again in Cabinet in 2002, only to be over-ruled by Howard because of cost issues. Actually I suspect it was more likely Howard's realization he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell, because of embarrassment over the Tampa and Pacific solution issues, and being Bush's deputy sheriff man of steel. Silly Alex was strangely upbeat: "I was very keen to run. It was always my view that Australia was a significant country that should, from time to time, be on the Security Council," Downer said in March 2008.
Oh Alex, you stupid egotistical booster of Rudd's risible ambitions! No wonder the current moves by the Rudd government don't enjoy bipartisan support. Put on your stockings you dancing crow eater and dance right out of here.
But enough of that, and let's just pass over the fat owl's recycling of cheap gossip from Queensland about Bryce as governor protecting Wayne Goss's hide. It's a scurrilous smear involving shredders, repeated over and over again by the fat owl, and with about as much credibility as right wing paranoia over black helicopters and the truth about aliens hidden at Roswell, New Mexico. God, it's amazing how conspiracy theories, mushrooms and dung go so well together in right wing minds.
Then it's on to some standard fat owl abuse - she's no more than a Labor hack, she's a willing spear carrier incapable of understanding the ethical ordure with which she has smeared her office.
Oh what a pretty prattling ponce and knave we have here, having just delivered his own ungracious smear, so steeped in his own shit he couldn't smell the ordure of his own words.
Does the fat owl understand ordure means excrement, dung, something morally offensive, filth? Of course he does. Does he think that saying the Queen's representative has smeared her office in shit is a fine turn of phrase, a very subtle and sensitive diplomatic reproach for issues of protocol? Of course he does. As an owl, he understands regurgitation is a very practical approach to life. Vomitous bile is just par for the course.
"Mummie, mummie, why do right wing neo-con neo-liberal columnists think the G-G is an ethical shit smearer?"
"Hush dear, Piers' shit doesn't stink, so he thinks it's just a jolly jape amongst chums."
"But it's naughty mummie."
"I know, but that's just Piers. He's always smearing his columns with it, and his office and his keyboard. He means no harm. He's just making a point. You know how it is with old men who've never grown up, stay two year olds at heart and brood about potty training. They get potty mouths, especially when they talk about women. They think women made them do their toilet training. It's Freudian I'm told, and deeply rooted."
Now hang in there. We have a lot of fat owl neuroses on view today. Next he slags off Stephen Smith, and the upcoming UN sponsored conference on anti-racism (a much loved meme of Neos at the moment), then it's on to Billy Deane and his treacherous step as G-G into perilous waters when he embraced the so-called Sorry business and found himself reciting a speech which was grotesquely historically inaccurate, and deeply offensive to the reputations of many Europeans. Silly Billy. Relying on black oral history.
What would those drunkards remember about anything? Song lines? Don't you mean petrol queues? Not that the fat owl has anything but the highest regard for indigenous folk, provided like women, they stay in their places. Burning off the bush, that sort of thing, tending the gums, going walkabout at their own expense, standing with one foot against the knee, and a spear held high against the setting sun, as you do in News Ltd productions.
Silly Billy. He was probably inspired by John Howard, who made his own apology to Aboriginal Australia way back when: "Personally, I feel deep sorrow for those of my fellow Australians who suffered injustices under the practices of past generations towards indigenous people. Equally, I am sorry for the hurt and trauma many here today may continue to feel, as a consequence of these practices."
Et tu Johnny? You part of all this so-called sorry business? Oh no fat owl say it ain't so. It's not just Billy, it's Johnny. The aliens got them both.
But how to fix it? Right, send in the army. Declare a war on the Northern Territory, that motley bunch of humbuggers.
Lastly, the fat owl manages a little flurry of floozies at the "fashionable Bryce" for raising eyebrows by demanding she be briefed by heads of various departments including army, navy and air force on current operations.
Silly biddy. Fancy wanting to know what the troops are up to if you visit them. As if women could understand or talk about anything more than the recipes for scones and lamingtons. Yep, it's back to Dame Slap turf. Women, KNOW YOUR PLACE.
As alluring as travel may be to the Governor-General, she should tell the Australian public why she personally believes it is necessary to build bridges to Third World regimes in Africa when there are more pressing problems at home.
Yes, G-G, as the fat owl so succinctly puts it, fuck the world, we'se wants to get off. We've got no business with them funny dictators in Africa, none at all.
Here's an idea. Quentin, why don't you take a care basket and a cleaning maid around to the fat owl's office and help him clean out his mouth and his mind. Damn sure it's a pressing problem right here at home. Even a tin pot African dictator couldn't manage to be so blithely, indolently, wretchedly offensive.
Second thoughts, why not donate an air ticket to the fat owl? Who knows, he might find travel alluring. I understand he considers himself very fashionable. Maybe he'll just Mickey Bliss off, and Australia will be a cleaner, nicer, more ordure free place.
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