Miranda Devine, board games, paranoid ranting, and a one eyed barracking thought free zone for a quiet Saturday ...

(Above: eek, more deadly than a game of pick up sticks or 500. Phew, at last we get to mention Australia's national card game, even if it came all the way from America).

So little did we know.

Here we were thinking that the end of the world was nigh, because, and in no particular order, and not limited to, the movies, comics, Cinemascope, 3D, television, animations, anthropomorphism, pornography, the Internet, computers, video games, whether Atari, Coleco, Playstation or X-Box, screen culture, watermelons, at least the ones that are green on the outside, graphic novels ...

Amazingly we forgot all about mentioning Dungeons and Dragons, playing cards, backgammon, roulette, the I Ching, Tarot, fortune telling, witchcraft ... and didn't even think of board games like Monopoly.

NPR asks the sort of hard hitting questions we ignore on the pond at our peril, in Monopoly: Does The Game Mislead Investors?

Did we all learn bad lessons from years of passing Go and collecting $200?

The sinister answer?

... when you look at it in post recession 2010, the rules of Monopoly seem like a sure way to crash an economy: The bank can never run out of money, mortgages are easy to get and rent always goes up.

"You might learn if you are good at monopoly, to think that real estate is a really good investment," Roberts (Professor of economics at the University of Texas at Ausin) says. He adds that's "a strategic incite that would have served you very badly at least recently."

It hit me like a flash of lightning, a bolt from the blue, the profundity of the insight.

Oh I know it's only NPR being whimsical, in the manner of a dancing elephant, or our very own ABC lifting its cardigan to reveal the dashing cardigan beneath, but for a moment there they had me going, and anyway, what better way to throw to a column by Miranda the Devine, follower of every crazy theory doing the rounds, as a handy explanation for the impending collapse or ruination of western civilisation.

So what board game theory infests her column Democracy weakened by charade today?

The parlous state of Labor this election is a direct reflection of the tin ear of the progressive left. Again and again, smugly, arrogantly, patronisingly, progressives declare themselves to be moderates, claiming to represent a reasonable ideological middle ground, while showering the real moderates, who they dub ''right-wing'', ''conservative'' or ''extremist'', with abuse - subtle and not so subtle.

Oh dear, it sort of sounds like the watermelon theory, but actually is just mindless, meaningless babble and abuse. Tit for tat, and all of that.

Well as surely as night follows day, the Devine has learned this from someone else, perhaps by attending a helpful lecture:

The writer Shelley Gare has delved into the subtle method of abuse in a series of essays and a fine lecture to the Sydney Institute on Tuesday night on totschweigtaktik - the Austro-German word for ''death by silence'' which she describes as ''an astonishingly effective tactic for killing off creative work or fresh ideas or even news stories. You don't criticise or engage with what's being said or produced or expressed; instead you deprive someone and their work or opinion of the oxygen of attention''.

You mean the oxygen of attention that the Devine gets by holding down a plum spot at The Sydney Morning Herald, handsomely paid and lavishly featured to do a little shit stirring, never mind the depth of thinking, just count the enraged hits?

Sure thing, and now having paused for a moment to dress up her abuse with a fine sounding word, it's back to the Bockmist, the Scheiß, the Kuhscheiße, the Quatsch mit Soße, and the dollop of Schwachsinn:

Progressives keep trying to redefine the centre in their own image, instead of adjusting their expectations and accepting the reality of a public far more entrenched in conservatism and commonsense than they can imagine.

Here's what we think is an infallible guide to a meaningless abusive statement. Insert an alternative to the subject of the abuse, so:

Right wing lunatics like Miranda the Devine keep trying to redefine the centre in their own image, instead of adjusting their expectations and accepting the reality of a public far more entrenched in liberal live and let live thinking and secularism and commonsense than they can imagine.

You can keep on applying this technique until you become tired or bored:

Her attitude, based as it is on a fundamental dishonesty, leads her to all sorts of self-delusion, fakery and spin that inflicts insufferable pain - because it's done with fiendish intent - but only temporarily.

It's always helpful to mix in the abuse with a dose of paranoia:

It has infected Labor's election campaign and has led it to the profound mistake of underestimating Tony Abbott, fundamentally misunderstanding who he is, and dismissing him for too long as a right-wing extremist, Neanderthal and religious zealot.

No, no, never. Sure he once was a religious zealot, but now we like to think of him as Action Jackson. And for a real hoot, have a listen to Tony Abbott, Sydney SRC, in 1979 as presented by my old alma mater, the University of New England, here.

But I digress. Back to the abuse. Hmm, but first we need a patsy:

A symptom of the dripping contempt of the progressive left for people who don't think like them is typified by a letter to the editor yesterday from Wayne Duncombe of Glebe, blasting the ''boganocracy'' - ''selfish, narrow-minded, grasping'' voters, unlike his enlightened, sophisticated self. Cough. He obviously wants a Glebocracy where everyone drinks chai, wears tie-dye and rides a bike. What a way to win friends and influence people!

Now let's do the flip, or flip the bird, as we like to say in Tamworth:

A symptom of the dripping contempt of the dinosaur right for people who don't think like them is typified by the column by Miranda the Devine, blasting the ''progressives'' - ''selfish, narrow-minded, grasping'' voters, unlike her enlightened, sophisticated self. Splutter. She obviously wants a punditocracy where everyone drinks chai - that's a fancy word for Billy tea, eats Flo scones, wears loud ties and/or pearls and sets dinner parties aflame with her abusive prejudices, and drives a Toorak tractor, crushing any errant bicyclist in the way. What a way to win friends and influence people!

On and on in the same way:

Miranda the Devine really believe that by willing something into being, by talking it up and writing about it and employing their combined brilliance they can somehow engineer a mass change in social sentiment. It is a core belief. But more and more the arguments run away from them.

They can belittle and shun people who refuse to accept the genius of their world view but they just make their enemies stronger because all the energy they expend on maintaining the charade that they represent the reasonable middle ground means they fail competently to perform their day jobs - say, running a democratic country.

Does this blather, this splenetic outburst, this bilious attack, actually mean anything? Of course not, it's just a stress reducer in the middle of a tight election campaign.

Of course, an election campaign is the moment of unpalatable truth, and the way progressives have dealt with this one has been amusing.

Yes, mix one part condescension with one part arrogance and one part gloating, add in a dash of bile, and perhaps get a little agitated about the arrival of former chairman Rudd on the scene. Time for a little abuse of the Kruddster? Sure thing:

Rudd, by the way, seems none the worse for wear after his gutting and gall bladder removal, other than the fact he now refers to himself in the third person, as "K Rudd" or "KM Rudd" or "myself" as in "the rolling political controversy about myself".

Oh dear, but I think we're missing that special ingredient, one of the eleven secret herbs and spices that make for finger lickin' chickin. Ah, "faceless men", that's what we need. Give me a pinch of it:

But do the new generation of faceless men and women, the Arbibs, Bitars, Shortens and Feeneys, read no Shakespeare?

At this point, we have to stop to announce a world first. That's the first time we recall Miranda the Devine working herself up to reference a play by Shakespeare.

Sure, back in March she referenced a Shakespeare sonnet, but that was finery borrowed from the opposition (Abbott's sledging of Rudd cuts through finer points of debate).

Sure the name Shakespeare bobs up in the guise of John Shakespeare doing illustrations. But then the record begins to get obscure, opaque.

Never mind Macduff, play on, the play's the thing in which we'll surely catch the king, or the progressive, never mind the Devine's previous failure to indicate any literary leanings, or her sudden desire to embrace the spiritual insights of that wretched Glebocracy and its chai drinking karma worshipping ways:

If they had any literary or spiritual leanings they might have known that the overthrow of a first-term prime minister for no clear reason was rife with bad karma. Now, belatedly, they've figured it out by looking at the polls, which are really a lagging moral indicator. What they did was wrong. The electorate knows it and some people care enough to change their vote. It's no good whirling out Banquo now and saying, "He's OK, really. It's only a flesh wound."

Even worse, one imagines if Banquo actually turns up in the flesh, and says to that ponce Phillip Adams, it's okay really, my mum taught me not to be bitter, life is short, it's only a flesh wound, and now cry god and country and after that rascally rapscallion Action Jackson, and though 'tis fearful odds, God's arm strike with us, and we fight valiantly this day, for if we live, the fewer of us, the greater share of honor, because by Jove, we're not covetous for gold, but rather ... Oh delirium has set in, so let's just go to Shakespeare:

This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Oops, forgot that Crispin's day is actually October 25th, but isn't it cheering to know that Crispin is the patron saint of cobblers, tanners, leather workers, and by extension members of the biker and leather subculture who like a little leather, because it sometimes helps get them into a lather ... Mmmm, leather ... Sorry vegans ...

Oops, I digress, it's back to the Devine for more important anal-retentive messages:

Another amusing progressive approach has been to embrace the sniffy complaints from visiting British intellectuals that the quality of Australian political debate is dismal, low-rent, and no better than a ''Strathclyde regional council" meeting. This became a favourite topic of chattering-class dinner parties last week, justification for the fact the promised golden age of progressive politics had been an illusion, and the death warrant for the dreaded neo-conservatism premature.

What? The Devine attends chattering-class dinner parties? Clearly also attended by visiting British intellectuals? Where they talk of karma and Shakespeare. O O O O that Shakespeherian Ragc-- It's so elegant So intelligent ...

How can this be? While we attend the takeaway food joints at the Marrickville Metro?

Oh the pain and the suffering of the poor dear, and doing it all simply to bring us the unvarnished, ungarnished truth:

You do me wrong to take me out o' th' grave.
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

But stay, what does it all mean?

Unwilling to barrack for a side that's looking tattered and, frankly, boganish, many progressives have retreated to a world-weary "plague o' both your houses" stance.

Yep, and there you have it. For the Devine, politics is just some kind of hearty rugger bugger thing, where you stick your head up other people's bums, nothing homosexual mind you, and nothing wrong with that if it was, and only barrack for one side.

And as a one eyed barracker, she's the perfect example of why there's much sound and fury in any election campaign, much of it signifying nothing. Which leads me to retreat to a world weary "a plague, a pox on her house, and her house alone" stance.

It might well be true that in the kingdom of the blind the one eyed barracker is king, but I take as my text for today:

And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire ...

Now that's as good a reason as any for one eyed barracking.

And now for the real point, the heart of the Devine paranoia, and it is, as we suspected, an anxiety about watermelons that set her off, not Monopoly:

The disastrous consequence is that Australian democracy has been weakened and will be further weakened if the latest polls prove true with their prospect of a hung parliament, or a minority government at the mercy of the so-called ''hayseed'' independents and Greens holding the balance of power in the lower house, while in the Senate, the Greens hold sway. Even the most competent, accomplished, smart, strong, conciliatory, wise and good prime minister could not manage to govern well in such a scenario.

But stay, what of England and its new regime, which mixes Liberal Democrats and Conservatives, and features a conservative leader who prefers bikes to Toorak tractors? How goes it in this brave new land, while here down under we read the Devine, and the conversation is carried on at the level of a paranoid 'Strathclyde regional council' meeting?

Because you see, the Devine has not only upset the people of Glebe. She's upset every rural voter in the country with her sneer at hayseeds. Yes, you rubes, Miranda the Devine is your big city condescending sneering friend, in much the same way as you dopes vote National to prop up Tony Abbott when you could be like Tamworth, standing proud and free (and singing country music ...)

What's that? Oh okay, acting on legal advice, loon pond apologies unreservedly, and withdraws any imputation or insinuation that debates conducted in the sadly missed Strathclyde council were in any way at or below the level of a Miranda the Devine column ...

Sure, he or she would muddle through and make the best of a bad lot. But the compromises would be crippling to our economy, to our social fabric and our future. It is the nightmare of state politics writ large.

It's a joke but it's not at all funny.

Hang on, yes it is a joke, and yes, you are exceptionally funny. As well as being a thought free zone ...

It's the same nightmare that the Labor government has endured these past few years, and muddled through. As has usually been the case with the Senate holding the balance of power. Which is to say that it's not a nightmare, just political life in Australia, in much the same way as in other countries where the balance of power is shared, and compromise rather than Devine extremism is expected ...

But I knew that somehow, ineluctably, in the way of fear mongerers fear mongering, that'd we'd arrive at a crippling nightmare, and the ruination of our economy, our social fabric and our future.

Is that why I wake up in the middle of the night having a genuine nightmare? Like, golly, there might be another ranting Miranda the Devine column in the paper today ...

Yep, suddenly the genuine nightmare becomes clear. Manly wins the rugby league, Carlton the AFL, and Tony Abbott becomes autocratic PM without any reins thrust upon him in the Senate ...

Talk about a crippled future. Why as that venerable old former Liberal Malcolm Fraser said, Abbott not ready to lead country, declares Malcolm Fraser:

"My failure to renew my membership is just not related to Tony Abbott," he said. "The party has moved further and further to the Right over the last 20 years (so that) it is no longer a liberal party.

"Its leadership is . . . conservative. I regret that greatly. Menzies rejected the term 'conservative' quite deliberately because he wanted a Liberal Party that would be innovative and help guide Australia into the future.

"You know, this is one of the things that's missing from this campaign. What sort of country do the Liberals, what sort of country do Labor want Australia to be five, 10, 20 years out?"

Odds bodkins, that sounds out of sorts. What could possibly explain that sort of moving forward thinking?

Eek, it's true. Board games are ruining the country, ruining the world. Quick, rush off and get your copy of Squatter, the game that made Malcolm Fraser what he is today, but remember to drench your sheep for liver fluke, cheap at ten bucks the pen!

But don't worry about your bore drying up. Miranda the Devine will keep on scribbling while full of liver fluke for her mob of sheep unto eternity ....