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Boy oh boy.
If our new government's swearing-in picture is anything to go by,
Australians are in for a world of hurt for the next three six nine
years.
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| Source: @redneckninja |
Look, now, at Kevin Andrews and Christopher Pyne cackling away like a
couple of suburban wives at Australians' dismay of a Coalition government.
Look, now, at Warren Truss and Julie Bishop crossing each other's lines
of sight, and wonder how these people are Tony Abbott's fail safes. Look at
them, and despair.
Look, now, at Eric Abetz, staring defiantly at the camera as if he is a
rebelliously errant schoolboy, seemingly determined to be photographed in the
wrong tie.
'
Look, now, at Joe Hockey looking at Barnaby Joyce with a dangerous gleam
in his eye. Look at Hockey try to contain his wrath upon the people of
Australia for their conceited mocking last week of the sweat upon his brow, due
to a nasty case of catching cold. Look at the swagger in that man. Look at him,
and despair.
Look, now, at Barnaby Joyce trying to fit in with the boys' club at the
other end of the photo. Look at a man who is still settling in after moving
Houses, a man who enters the strange new hostile world of the more-than-notional
House of Representatives, from the unrepresentative Senate. Look at Joyce
espouse all the outsiderness and alienation of a Salinger archetype.
Look, now, at Malcolm Turnbull look for something, maybe not a piece of
his brain but a piece of his free-thinking soul perhaps, crushed under the boot
of party discipline. Look at him show his shame of his success in his political
party of refuge by not showing his face - like an insufferable child determined
to spoil the family photograph. Look at him consider where the republicanism
movement is at the moment. Look at him, and despair.
Look, now, at Greg Hunt look on grimly. Look at him ponder quietly
whether his climate change bluster will wash, rinse and dry with the Australian
people now that he is in office.
Look, now, at Peter Dutton, a brave grimace masking his despondency
marked by the realisation he answers to the public in one of the most vital
domestic ministries. Look at him considering his options. Look at him, and
despair.
Look, now, at Scott Morrison, who dareth smile in public even though he
knows, and we know, his culpability in his acts of barbarism, committed for our
barbaric polity. Look at him smile as he reflects in his own mind that someday,
somehow, the people smugglers owe him big time.
Look, now, at Ian Macfarlane, a man with a chainsaw for a voice box - a
man, with his steely centering gaze, who would surely be considered by
foreigners or people in the outer western suburbs of Melbourne to be the true
PM. Look at him, and despair.
Look, now, at the many men, and despair.
Look. now, at the few women, and despair.
Look, now, at this Coalition government. It is yours and mine and ours.
Look, and despair.
Look not at any of them without looking at our supposedly prime ministerial
Tony Abbott. Look at this man gazing to the right with a wry smile, as if
somebody has informed him half-jokingly that he is now PM. Look, and despair.
Look - nay, gaze, gaze upon thus, and despair!
