by Ross Sharp
The antics of Tony Abbott and Christopher Pyne in Parliament yesterday must surely have riveted the attentions of those workers recently stood down without pay for a month due to the collapse of engineering firm Hastie this week.
Indeed, having received notification their services were no longer required, and they should fend for themselves for twenty-eight days, perhaps forage for wild mushrooms in yonder fields, or toast pine cones over an open fire in an oil barrel, our hardy workers immediately returned their attentions to far more important matters, grave matters of state and civilisation with dire implications for us all before they were so rudely interrupted.
I speak, of course, of the Machiavellian machinations and manipulations of one Craig Thomson, the “Member” for Dobell, this silky, smooth-faced midget sot of Chaucerian debauchery and his alleged adventures with random, luridly painted harlots and tarts.
Well may “whole families lie slaughtered in Syria”, but a bullet through a child’s head is but a mere trifle compared to the all-out assault on our nations’ increasingly fragile pillar of democracy, our entire social order teetering as it is on the brink of collapse into an orgy of barbarism, rape, sodomy, cannibalism; where women abort their babies for popular entertainment, hurling broken and bloodied little corpses about basketball courts to the encouraging cheers of drugged and drunken spectators, and wild-eyed, red-faced men stagger through our public thoroughfares and squares gripped by lustful fevres, openly pleasuring themselves with exotic creams and balms and engaging in spastic acts of congress with unsuspecting domestic animals.
And over and across this horrid spectacle of an Inferno promised and an Inferno now fulfilled is cast the rictus grin of this Grand Wizard of unfiltered darkness and pure, duplicitous evil, Craig Thomson.
Well may “5.5 million lie dead in the Democratic Republic of Congo”, but what is this of import when compared to the debased and dissolute degeneracy that infects our every waking moment now, that rots our souls, that simples our minds, that soils the better natures of our nations’ people, and sends our more intrepid defenders of democratic process fleeing in panicked haste and horror from our formerly hallowed halls of government when confronted by such outrageous monstrosity?
In all seriousness however, if any measure of “seriousness” could be thought applicable to the state of politics in this country right now, wouldn’t you just like to grab a few of our so-called “honourable members” of parliament by the back of the neck and slam their fucking heads into a wall for an hour or two?
I know I certainly would.
And I am not a violent man.