These are strange and amusing days pock marked with delicious irony. Treasurer Joe Hockey, a man who received a free university education and when he retires from politics will be the beneficiary of a huge parliamentary superannuation package and a pension for life, got to his feet in the parliament last night to end the age of entitlement. (Jack the Insider, for once inside the right tent, here).
As expected, the budget follies have kicked into high gear, and they were managed, thanks to the incompetence of the federal government, with the smoothness of an F1 driver manipulating a steering-wheel mounted paddle.
Folly. Zoom. Folly. Zoom. Folly. Zoom. Zoom. etc etc.
There was jolly Joe Hockey defaming his son's musical tastes while looking crestfallen and abashed in front of Laurie Oakes (Treasurer Joe Hockey caught dancing to Best Day of My Life before delivering Federal Budget, forced video at end of link).
And then the buffoon was caught napping, but he led with an excellent defence - it was Tony Abbott's fault (just like the pond explaining that it was battling with Mr Battle and Bembrick that led to sleep while the rest of the class chanted "When Servius Galba, together with the twelfth legion, went into the territory of the Nantuates ...")
And then there was a battling Queensland granny who caught Tony Abbott on the hop, revealing him to be a fop without a clue.
Naturally the Murdochians immediately rushed out to establish that the granny was a Labor party stooge and voter, seeming to forget that in his statesman mode Abbott had promised to rule for all, a promise forgotten when it came to pensioners, the poor, the young, the students etc etc (and there's plenty of etcs these days, so grand are the follies).
All the granny did was articulate the fear and loathing of many, and because Abbott looked flat-footed, with all the dexterity of a 'roo in a Wake in Fright spotlight shoot, it resonated all the more.
Well let the record show that the pond has never belonged to any political party, most particularly the Labor party, but did at one time buy Murdoch papers, thereby showing that anyone can be stupid.
When it comes to Abbott, the pond would love to be able to nail the smirking Abbott to the wall the way the granny did by asking a few sensible questions to which Abbott had no answer (just how is a 28 year old supposed to live on nothing for six months? Well there's always armed robbery ...)
And then Chrisopher Pyne, still spouting empty slogans, made a goose of himself on 7.30. The man who got himself a free tertiary education so he could carry on like a prat is really an irritating, offensive class A twit.
Meanwhile, even the state Liberal premiers realised they'd been sold a pup and a dump (as the thuggees say on the eastern coast), and that's going to produce months of turmoil, but it wasn't all this that caught the pond's eye, it was the Ruddster.
Now as anyone who has read these pages, the pond loathed the reign of former Chairman Rudd, and also loathed his Christian-strutting anarchist rule.
Perhaps "loathe" is too strong a word. Let's just say that the pond disliked the former Chairman greatly, abhorred and felt an intense aversion to his ways. (What's that you say? The pond has just offered up the classic dictionary definition of "loathe". Never mind, you get the point).
Which is why the pond was startled to discover that the federal government was so incompetent and vindictive, it had managed to generate sympathy in the pond for the grand narcissist:
Now everyone knows that the Royal Commission is a kangaroo court, a Stalinist or Maoist show trial, intended to humiliate and injure the Labor party.
Thus far proceedings had been ticking over nicely. Arbib and Garrett had displayed astonishing ignorance about the dangers of getting into a roof where electricity wiring generally runs about exposed.
It's a measure of how far the Labor party has drifted from its working class roots. It wouldn't have been surprising for the pond to hear one of them say that they didn't realise putting a knife into a power socket might cause a little personal grief ... (ah let's not go into how the pond discovered the power of electricity).
But they were the minor players in the kangaroo court. The show trial's main target was always going to be the Ruddster.
But then came the story Government accused of trying to gag Kevin Rudd at royal commission:
Before he had said a word beyond giving his name, Kevin Rudd's evidence to the royal commission into his former government's home insulation program descended into a legal circus over accusations the government was trying to gag Rudd.
The extraordinary debate late on Wednesday afternoon centred on the former prime minister's heavily redacted 31-page statement.
Almost a full day behind schedule, Rudd appeared in Brisbane magistrate's court but did not speak a word beyond giving his name as the commissioner, Ian Hanger QC, and legal representatives held a heated discussion about the huge portions of Rudd's statement which had been redacted on request from the commonwealth due to parliamentary privilege.
They bung on a show trial, and then they redact Rudd's statement? They bung on a kangaroo court, and break a hundred plus years of tradition by releasing Labor cabinet documents to the commission, and then they claim parliamentary privilege in relation to the Ruddster?
Frankly even a Stalinist or a Maoist might blanche at this naked abuse of power.
Now who knows what might be in the document penned by Rudd. Since he's a narcissist, it might be full of excuses.
The reptiles know where the Ruddster might be heading:
But look at the sting in the tail, which even the reptiles feel the need to report: Gagging silences star witness Rudd.
Why the gag? There's surely nothing to do with national security, and if he names or defames assorted people, so what? There are legal mechanisms available to deal with that possibility, and the Commissioner could decide against his claims, openly and publicly ...
Walker suggested Hanger's final report would be "impossible" should Rudd not be allowed to fully answer "suggestions" made by the current government that the home insulation scheme was created in days.
"We want to answer that suggestion and we should be able to do so truthfully and fully," Walker said.
Indeed. The families of the victims didn't have a problem with Rudd explaining his actions, and the redacted document being made available.
Now there's talk that the show trial, the Stalinist mock trial, will move behind closed doors to hear Rudd's evidence.
A classic Stalinist ploy.
If they do make that move this very morning, the Commission will be exposed as a sinister farce and the Commissioner will be profoundly compromised.
No, the pond won't be putting a penny into the Godwin's Law swear jar.
The pond thinks the Ruddster would be perfectly entitled to tell the Commissioner that he's fukt, that the trial is a farce, and that unless he's allowed to speak in public, and his un-redacted testimony is made available, it's all fukt and the Royal Commission can get fukt. (oh thank you, AFR, thank you for expanding the pond's language, you and your subs are better than the Reader's Digest).
And that's the measure of this government's supreme incompetence. When the snivelling Ruddster departed the scene, the pond felt a mix of embarrassment and a desire to slap the man heavily on both cheeks (suddenly understanding the joy of being an NCO bully in Full Metal Jacket).
But now the federal government has made the pond sympathetic to the Ruddster ... a notion that at one time the pond would have dismissed as a supreme impossibility.
"The present government can't have it both ways. It can't require you to report faithfully on that matter and prevent you from pursuing the evidence about it," he said.
"No other government has ever decided to ask a royal commission … for cabinet processes to be inquired into like this."
Hanger questioned the reasons for the requested secrecy. "It's not like it will affect our relationships with other countries" he said of the information contained.
Exactly so. And let the record show that, despite not having insulation, the pond turned its back on the free offer because it thought it a tainted offer...
Back in the day, the pond hungered for a Royal Commission into how Australia ended up in the mess that's called Iraq.
And yes it continues to this very day a profound mess. Read Ned Parker's Iraq: The Road to Chaos, (outside the NYRB paywall for the moment) and ponder why any number of western politicians haven't been convicted as war criminals.
This criminality has had ongoing repercussions. It's used by the likes of John Pilger to justify the criminality of Vladimir Putin as he goes about the business of terrorising and inflaming the Ukraine (In Ukraine, the US is dragging us towards war with Russia, he scribbled, as if Putin and the Russian speakers in the Ukraine were innocent angels and victims, and as if Ukraine freely joining the west would have been an international conspiracy of the first water, with Europe welcoming fascists with open arms).
But softer and gentler minds proposed that there was nothing to be gained by dredging over the past in relation to Iraq, and the Labor party, not being vindictive, and moving along, let the matter drop, and in the matter of the roofing insulation deaths, apologies had been made, lessons had been learned, various reports and findings had been made, and all the current kangaroo court is about is revenge and further humiliation.
Tony Abbott, we are reminded yet again, is made of different, aggro, boofhead stuff. If he sees someone on the ground and already in the gutter, he can never resist one last boofhead kick to the head - aim for the temple, always aim for the temple or the balls - with his steel-toed boots ...
As a result, is it wrong for the pond to join in the blood sport, and to have as its dearest wish that someday, and not too long away, Abbott will be caught in the gutter, and someone will dangle steel-toed boots in front of the pond, gently murmuring "would you like a free kick now?"
Meanwhile, the hagiographers and knob polishers have been out in force. By golly it's tough going, but as we all know, that's when the tough get going.
Here's a sample. David Crowe even begins by offering a defence to the Prime Minister. Still angling for that speech writer's job, eh Mr Crowe?
And then there was David Uren, who didn't worry about niceties. He just went the uxorious route:
Well Uren certainly sounds like a confounded member of the commentariat.
And why is anyone surprised at Greg Sheridan?
Why did the pond mention the uxorious Sheridan? Well of course, it's only so we can provide, yet again, a link to How I learnt to Love Tony Abbott A bromance for the ages (relax, it's a running gag, like slipping on a banana peel, or watching the Three Stooges over and over again).
But for subtlety and nuance, the pond has to hand today's gong to Niki Savva, doing a splendid, the glass is half full, and certainly not half empty routine:
Now that's clever knob polishing, sowing confusion in the hope that out of the confusion comes fresh confusion.
Enough already. Today the pond isn't providing any links to the hagiographers.
They should be redacted or gagged, or just shut the fukt up ... that's how it works in this newly Stalinist land ...
Meanwhile, is there a cartoonist in the house to make fun of jolly Joe Hockey casually defaming his son's musical taste? Well not in the pond's house, but thanks to the AFR, we can celebrate.
I had a dream so big and loud,
I jumped so high I touched the clouds ...
We danced with monsters through the night,
I’m never gonna look back ...
I’m never gonna give it up, no,
Please don’t wake me now,
This is gonna be the best day of my life.
Hey you can head off to watch and dance along to the official video on YouTube here.
Or you can dance along with David Rowe ...
(Below: more Rowe here)