New England, sir?! You cad, you Barners bounder ...

Please, no hissing in the back row at that hideous symbol ... this is just between the pond and Barners.

You see, this very day the pond happened to hear Barners trying to score a political point, boasting how he'd stayed in New England to talk of politics while Tony Windsor had gone to Canberra to announce his bid.

And yet the bare-faced, blow-in fraud had the cheek to say those fatal words while standing in the streets of noble Tamworth ...

Now as everyone knows, Tamworth is in the seat of New England. 

But it has never bowed to the dominance of New Englanders, ensconced on the northern tablelands, with their town and gown university, and their arty crafty pretensions and their laughable attempts at cathedrals.

These dangerous folks, mortal enemies of Tamworthians for over a century, live on the northern tablelands, amongst apple growers and such like weirdness.

Tamworth is situated on the north west slopes and plains, and is populated by a hardy breed of commercial warriors. 

Fie to you Armidaleans, with your reliance on government subsidy and pandering to religion and schools for squatters' daughters and sons, you losers, you dropkicks, take your yoke and your blathering, treacherous Barners and put them where the glorious Tamworth sun doesn't shine ...

Now this alone should disqualify Barners from winning. What have we here? A man unable to relate to the poignant history of his home town, a history of bitterness and quarrelling to rival the Scots and the English?

Let's face it, once you drive up past Moonbi, you're doomed to foppish pretension and delusion.

Here's what represents Tamworth, and it's not some ponce imitation of an English lion. It's the glorious warbling magpie ...

 

Tamworth in New England, you infidel, you heretic, you traitor?

Fie on your blow-in pretensions, the pond farts in your general New Englander direction ... 

Repeat this simple lyric three times ...

In Tamworth the rain always falls on

The north west slopes and plains ...

Aim higher, you rogue, you scoundrel. Pander not to the apple-munching highlanders ...

Oh and for anyone who has the remotest understanding of what this tribal rambling might mean, here's a picture of the old picture theatre torn down in the fog of night by vandals ...

Oh what a heartbreak town it is, and the dissembling rogue Barners allowed to roam freely down Peel street, and misrepresent its history to the world ...