THE YEAR IN REVIEW – TERROR, TRASH-TALKING AND TONY THE TALKING TESTICLE
by Ross Sharp
Such a year.
For a brief (very brief) period of time, Australia was governed by an inarticulate, unintelligent and deluded madman and his far-right minions until it became perfectly clear this was no longer sustainable or viable, and they were told, in no uncertain terms, to pack their swags and bugger off.
That’s the type of “leadership” best left to the United States. It comes natural to them. Down under, it all became just a little too weird.
After September 2015, posts were few and far between (about 7 or 8) due to personal matters (the illness, hospitalisation and subsequent death of my father), so my heart was not really in it and still isn’t. Besides, everything that needed to be said has been said, and then said again and again by all manner of people.
Please note that, come the New Year, there will be no posts made on this blog about Donald Trump. Ever. At this point in time, I have less life ahead of me than behind me, and I refuse to waste so much as a billionth of a nanosecond on such a yatebedam.
“The man who establishes his argument by noise and command knows that his reason is weak.” – Michel de Montaigne
And so, without further ado, here are some of things I ranted, raved, and swore about (profusely) during 2015.
Good night and good luck.
“The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong.” – Carl Jung
January 30, 2015
From awful to fucked in the space of one brief week, Prime Minister Tony Abbott, our Dear Leader, the walking, talking testicle of contemporary Australian political life, and embodiment of everything that is, and has been wrong with it these last several years, has morphed toot sweet from the once proudly simian gaited and throbbingly tumescent Cock ‘O’ the Walk and King of the Hill to flaccid impuissance, an instant noodle body-slammed into a bowl of his own steaming hot faeces.
February 12, 2015
You’re a cunt, Tony.
You have no policies, only punishments. You do not seek to govern, you seek to rule. You thrive on the disorders and despairs of others, fear is your aphrodisiac, loathing a love letter perfumed with the blood of disabled babes, the chaos of the underclasses a contemptible slander on your strivations to the Übermensch. You are The Overman, and in your world, everyone knows their place and keeps it, and if they do not, one will be found for them, and that place shall be decided by the heft of their wallet, the rattle of their chains, the number of their slaves, and the avarice that glints in their eyes, they who whisper sweet visions of many little murders of the soul, to bring the great unwashed to heel, to their heel, so they may be crushed for base entertainments, to satisfy the savage indulgences of The Rich and The Powerful in their habitual fits of cruel whimsy.
February 27, 2015
Previous observations I have made, of predictions, clairvoyant in nature, that have subsequently proven to be true, have convinced me that I have now become a God. And therefore, and thusly, I do say unto you, take heed of the following …
Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull shall inform Federal Treasurer Joe Hockey that his services are no longer required, and they will now be performed by Scott Morrison, with Foreign Minister Julie Bishop retaining her position. Mr. Hockey shall spontaneously burst into big, wet tears and shout, “IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR AND YOU KNOW IT AND YOU CAN ALL GET FUCKED I’M NOT PLAYING ANYMORE I’M NOT IT’S NOT FAIR AND YOU CAN ALL GET FUCKED!”, after which he will be forcibly escorted and removed from the premises by security. Mr. Hockey will subsequently resign his seat, and retire from politics altogether.
March 6, 2015
I have seen the sights, the sounds, and the shape of the Future and it is Shit.
The Intergenerational Report released yesterday by the Abbott Federal Government has made it perfectly clear to us all, in the starkest possible terms, that this country faces challenges ahead, in all aspects and walks of life, that must, and can, only be met by all of us willingly engaging in a broad, national conversation about the sacrifices and pressures we must all endure in order to remain a strong, secure and economically sound nation into the near and distant future, for the sake of our children, for the sake of theirs, and for all that lies ahead, all that can be ours, all that can be theirs, if only we, all Australians, men and women, are willing to grasp the opportunity to do so now, before it’s too late.
In short, there are far too many old cunts fucking it up for the rest of us.
March 11, 2015
Since 1972, when I was thirteen years old, I have observed Prime Ministers from the late Gough Whitlam through Paul Keating through to the shambolic dysfunction and shrill, shrieking chaos of the Rudd-Gillard-Rudd years, but of the current incumbent, Tony Abbott, I have now come to the sad, but somewhat predictable, one could say inevitable, conclusion that Our Prime Minister’s Brain Is Missing.
In its place, an organ of purely intuitive compulsion, which, when prodded or stroked, no matter how strongly or gently, spawns an instantaneous stream of insensate gibberish, his words like spores from a brooding coral, jerkingly spat into the wider atmosphere layering everything beneath it with a thin, cream layer of oozing slime which, rather than reproduce, suffocates and destroys all that lay before it.
This organ, if it were donated to science, would probably reveal itself to comprise something resembling a lone, mushy pea atop a small, grey ball of gnarly gristle.
April 22, 2015
Somebody’s left the gate open at the cunt farm again …
A terrifying troupe of terrorist teen tots and twenty-somethings had been planning to launch an extreme assault upon the Australian public on our nation’s finest and most revered of days, Holy of Holies, Oh Woe are We for We are Besieged by Evil!
They were going to go at it with a knife and a sword somewhere to avenge the death of some other dickhead with a name that sounded like a brand of Turkish nougat who bought a knife to a gunfight outside a police station a while back and got himself shot for his troubles.
As you would.
May 26, 2015
We are in a War.
We do not understand this War.
We did not ask to be in this War.
We should not be in this War.
We are now the Enemy of Government and the Enemy of Each Other in a War that is being sold to us shrouded in the weasel words of Nationalism, Fiscal Austerity and Personal Sacrifice. Team Australia. Leaners. Lifters. Enemies. Friends.
Government has now fully abnegated its responsibility to govern on behalf of the citizenry, and has, instead, fully embraced and expressed its desire to Rule, to Dictate, and to Command.
We are a nation now fully divided into strictly delineated class structures. The weak, the poor and the aged are to be vanquished through neglect and shamed for their impositions upon us. The young and the meek shall be inculcated to abide by and unquestioningly obey the New Rule of Universal Law that is the “Cult of Work,” a cult in which, once enlisted, you shall never leave, you shall never think of leaving. Dissent from the Proletariat will not be tolerated, and will be met and dealt with by threats and intimidation, by force if necessary, until silent submission to this New World Order of Infinite Productivity and mute and grateful service to the state can be restored and maintained.
Sklaverei ist Freiheit!
We are in a war.
Humanity preys upon itself, like monsters of the deep, and here we sit at safe distance, dispassionate and incurious of mind, steadfast in resolve, and with smugly imperious certainty know what may seem cruel abominations to minds less rigorous in thought than our own, are in fact tender mercies and blessings from the wings of doves delivered with the sweetest of charity, and in the name of peace, and of love, and safety of passage.
July 2, 2015
We can stunt and dull our senses with the psychological thalidomide of asinine entertainments and “moral” panics, we can redact our hearts and hide our minds from themselves, we can spit our collective contempt upon the faces of the feeble, the frail, and the a’feared, we can choose to live every minute of our future as a memory of our past, but nothing, nothing, will ever, wipe these sordid stains from our history or from our souls.
September 2, 2015
As the former Federal Health Minister, he was regarded, by health professionals, as “the worst health minister in 35 years” and “will be remembered as the dullest, least innovative and most gullible for swallowing the reforms from his think tank … Although I am glad he has been demoted, it would have been good if he was still around to take responsibility for the current chaos he has caused.”
To put it unkindly, the man’s not worth a pinch of shit, and we all know it.
Let us also not forget that, as the current Immigration Minister, Dutton joins a long and undistinguished line of callous and unfeeling arseholes who have, for almost 15 years now, been enabling the rape, torture and physical and psychological abuse of already seriously damaged men, women and children by flinging them off to corruptly governed foreign islands so as to sate the primal fears of a nation whose populace now seems consumed and diseased by cowardice and new tribal hatreds, hatreds lovingly nurtured and fed by the frenzied illogic of the white trash on heat in our tabloids, and their political equivalents.
Stay sane. It’s not you. It’s everyone else.