Gerard Henderson, and yes, truly the season is winding down, like a clock in need of a turn ...

(Above: we don't usually require this, but please take triple the recommended daily dose before proceeding).

"You there in the back row, nodding off again? Wake up, or the next question will be yours."

"Please miss, can't we read something more interesting," the sweet dirt-stained urchin begged.

But I was in no mood for cheer or tolerance as Xmas loomed. "No," I thundered. "The set text is Hold on tight, the next three years will leave us feeling a little bit green, so get to it."

"But miss, we'd rather be reading that prattling Polonius in Hamlet than read Gerard Henderson," said the beguiling snot-dribbling urchin.

At last, my secret campaign to redeem Shakespeare seemed to be on the upward turn.

What next? Could I persuade the urchins that logic might come in handy when scribbling about the world? Why there was Henderson delivering what he thought was a gloomy closer:

Three years is a very long time in politics and only fools make prophecies.

Uh huh, but this is Henderson so by definition he'll surely proceed to make a prophecy. Only a fool would make a remark about fools and prophecies and then go on to augur:

However, it seems likely that Australian politics over the next three years will resemble that of the past four months. It will be a hard grind, with neither a Hawke nor a Howard in sight.

Actually the hard grind will continue to be reading Gerard Henderson so I let the young pups off with an early mark, and went about the task myself.

And yes, in his usual way, Henderson delivers what he considers a serious of contentious and controversial judgements, taking the form of his usual ponderous perambulation through the byways of Australian political history.

Like his pronouncement that the most successful prime ministers in Australian history were Bob Hawke and John Howard - just to be interdenominational about it - and surely the achievements of this pair in World War 111 upstage any efforts of leaders confronted by the idle threats of World War 11.

You see, there's no reason for Curtin making the list, because he died in office, and if you die in office, you're immediately dropped, cut like a schoolgirl hanging yearningly around a St Kilda jock, because ... well because it's somehow deeply offensive, dying in office, instead of hanging around to write your memoirs and foist ten volumes on the public.

Bob Menzies also doesn't make the cut because he was too successful ... fancy the cheek of winning eight elections as UAP/Liberal leader and hanging around for years.

Of course he benefited from a divided and poorly led Labor opposition, unlike John Howard, who experienced astonishingly fierce, well organised competition from the likes of Kim Beazley and Mark Latham. Even now, wise political pundits still shake their heads and gasp in admiration at the cohesive, coherent campaign put together by Latham ...

Hang on, hang on, before we all nod off in a stupor, isn't this just Gerard Henderson being particularly silly in the pre-Xmas season, perhaps a dry sherry too many imbibed before scribbling his column within the bowels of the Sydney Institute (please lad, only the finest dry flor fino if you please), and about as elevated and meaningful as a fierce debate arguing the toss as to whether the Rolling Stones, The Who or The Beatles embody the music of a generation, or whether Justin Beiber is a worthy successor to the Spice Girls, or perhaps the Bay City Rollers?

It's mind numbingly dull and dumb, no wonder the kids were suddenly infatuated with Hamlet.

Here's a man with nothing to say, and saying it at great length:

In view of the global economic uncertainties and the reality of minority government, if Australia can get through the next three years without winding back too much of the reform agenda of the past quarter of a century it will have done well enough. At the end of one of the most vibrant years in Australian politics, it is timely to challenge some of the myths and theories that have emerged about the contemporary political situation.

Oh god, it's like being trapped in the corner of a party, his elbow up against the wall and blocking any escape, as he indefatigably rabbits on about nothing, determined to challenge myths and theories of his choosing, and quite possibly of his own making. When trapped this way, usually the only viable solution is a quick kick to the groin ...

Sadly that doesn't work in the digital world, so on we go.

Henderson's idea of a contentious judgement? Disagreeing with his hero John Howard, one of the two greatest Oz PM's of all time, about whether the ALP was right to dump Kevin Rudd. Howard said they were wrong, Henderson says they were right, and only an alternative universe would provide a definitive answer.

Move on people, nothing to read here, yet it has the same fascination as watching a slow moving train wreck, or an autopsy.

As usual, it's really only a chance for Henderson to announce that Robert Manne - a favourite bete noir - and Judith Brett delivered a couple of hopelessly wrong assessments about Malcolm Turnbull and the exciting Tony Abbott.

Henderson's own impeccable judgement?

Abbott has his critics in the media but he has been able to unite the Liberals and to preside over a relatively unified coalition of Liberals and Nationals. This demonstrates considerable people skills.

A defiant 'people skills' joke. Waiter, give that man another exceptionally dry sherry, shaken but definitely not stirred.

And yes by golly once these exceptionally keen and fine debating points are behind him, it turns out Henderson himself is a man of defiantly rash predictions.

A complete rash of them and utterly rash into the bargain: it is quite possible that the Gillard government will survive the full term. It is quite possible the four independents run the risk of losing their seats at the next election. It is quite possible that Abbott will lead the Coalition to the next election. It is quite reasonable to predict that Abbott has a reasonable chance of winning the next election ...

Of course it's also too early to make even a vague prediction about the next election result, but oh the rush of blood to the head, the swirl of excitement, the thought of a triumphant Tony standing on the podium waving to the people he's wowed with his people skills ...

Wake up, damn you, wake up, take another half dozen NoDoz if you have to, or a triple strength coffee.

Yes, it seems Abbott can pick up the seats held by Oakeshoot and Windsor and by putting the Greens last campaign against September's Labor-Greens alliance, he can win, and defeat the evil Greens, the monsters who threaten to ruin western civilisation as we know it. What on earth do they have against a decent flor fino sherry?

Remember that "alliance"? It was Brown and Gillard agreeing to create a multi-party parliamentary committee to put a price on carbon, which that prize gherkin Glenn Milne assured us at the time might be illegal and therefore inoperable (Labor's desperate Greens alliance).

Why it's a veritable 'anschluss' of evil ...

And so to the closing par with which we began, and the only joy in the whole dreadful Henderson dirge is his pronouncement that, not only is there no Hawke in sight, there's no Howard.

Boom boom, take that, Tony "people skills" Abbott.

Hang on, hang on, there's another late breaking announcement.

I see a judge rushing in from the corner of the pond where the judging committee sits all year, considering the rival claims of members of the commentariat to undying fame in loon pond's yearly 'night of the stars'.

It looks like most of the judges have nodded off to sleep, but the one staggering and lurching like a drunk towards us, showing signs of a NoDoz overdose, is holding an envelope.

Please, drum roll, open the envelope.

"To whom it may concern, and to valiant readers of the Fairfax press, in view of their hard and valiant year long grind, and after reading Henderson's last piece, the judges have determined unilaterally and as one to announce - before the official awards season commences in the last week of December - that Gerard Henderson has been awarded 'the most boring commentariat commentator of the year' award."

Well it's only fair, after all the tedium inflicted on long suffering readers. Now if we can only find the cash to stump up for a plaque ... perhaps in the shape of a cloud of unknowing ...

Hamlet: Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
Lord Polonius: By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.
Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel.
Lord Polonius: It is backed like a weasel.
Hamlet: Or like a whale?
Lord Polonius: Very like a whale.

Hamlet: And Tony Abbott, will he win the next election, what say you?

Lord Polonius: 'Tis too early to make even a vague prediction, sire.

Hamlet: Yet the clouds augur well? For a weasel might defeat a camel.

Lord Polonius: he has a reasonable chance of winning, so far as reason goes.

Hamlet: how is it the clouds still hang on you, are you too much i' the sun?

Lord Polonius (aside): this is a most contentious judgement, a most controversial judgement,

quite possibly, and quite likely, and contrary to all claims to the contrary, the foolish prophecies of a knave, or perchance the knavish prophecies of a fool.

Hamlet: how so nuncle, for here's a way to avoid a hard grind:

Have more than thou showest,

Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,
And thou shalt have more
Than two tens to a score.

Apologies to Shakespeare and the mangling not just of Hamlet, but also King Lear.

(Below: and after the reading this week, Dorothy suddenly identifies with Ophelia).