Election shocker: Donald Duck pantsless shower scene scandal.


You're probably a very intelligent person, but you feel like you live in a breathtakingly stupid world. Yes? And during elections the stupid piles up so fast you don’t know if you can make to the chopper on the roof to escape?

You open a newspaper or, let’s get real, a browser tab, and straight away you’re thrashing and struggling, your breath hitching in ever shorter, panicky gasps as you try to keep your head above the rising tide of weaponised derp.

Like, how did Barnaby Joyce survive shame upon unutterable shame and what looks like a massive, ongoing and increasingly permanent heart attack to piss away billions of dollars on vanity projects for a vanishingly small number of rural voters whose lives and livelihoods he has already ruined by championing the cause of tax-evading fossil fuel companies?

Why is Clive Palmer not in jail?

By what mysterious process does Scott Morrison hope to make us forget all of the people killed by the many, many, many policy and administrative failures of his government—and I mean literally killed, I’m not fucking joking here, these dribbling cheerios have put people in the ground with their half-arsed, fuckbungling of Covid in aged care and the cruel and unusual punishment of completely innocent punters via Robodebt—so by what fucking measure of fail clown reasoning does this feckless dipshit think he gets to handwave that stuff away by serving up an uncooked chicken curry?

Also, Clive, still walking the streets. Seriously, how?

It’s tough, innit?

These are not one-eyed men in the kingdom of the blind. They’re almost maliciously incompetent arseclowns with raging Dunning-Kruger syndrome who couldn’t organise a fist fuck in a lubricated glove factory.

But then you don’t really ever meet up with them, do you?

Your experience of an election is mediated.

By these guys.

Somewhere in the middle of this clusterfuckularity someone calls out, “This is embarrassing.” And man, do they speak the truth, but not in the way they imagine. You might have thought that Adam Bandt’s epic smackdown of Fin Review copy boy and three-time Where’s Wally cosplay champion Ronald Mizen—"Just google it, mate,”—would’ve deep-sixed the pointless setting of gotcha traps, but yeah, nah, not so much.

Honestly, if I was Albanese, or even Morrison for that matter, every time some smart-arse junior shitweasel served up one of these of infinite Runescape trivia questions I’d smile slowly, turn to the relevant minister or aide and beckon them forward with the appropriate policy document.

Then I’d read that motherfucker out loud, word for word, in my best Richard Burton voice, you remember, from his narration of Jeff Wayne’s epic 1978 musical adaptation of War of the Worlds. Or maybe Robin Williams, singing Bruce Springstein, as Elmer Fudd…

…but for six dot points’ worth of NDIS policy detail or whatever these useless chucklefucks were shout-holing about in the moment. Maybe they’d get the message eventually.

Or maybe not.

Way back in 1957, C. Northcote Parkinson identified the Law of Triviality as a lay down fucking misère in which we puny humans, we flawed and feeble creatures, would inevitably invest our time and attention on the inconsequential pishwaddle that at least we understood, or thought we understood, in preference to doing the hard work of finding out the real stuff, formulating a plan for dealing with it, and executing on that motherfucker with some semblance of focus and rigour.

[See also, the blessed relief of the entire world when Will Smith bitch-slapped Chris Rock and gave us something to talk about other than Russia’s genocidal invasion of Ukraine].

Honestly, I think that most people, really, really really want to lean into the hard stuff - the climate catastrophe, China, the economy and not just the economy but how to make it work for us rather than making us work and suffer for it, corruption, openness, equity, the whole box of chocolates, soft centred and crunchy. Or at any rate they want to vote for somebody who’ll lean into that stuff for them. And there’s people in all parties who want to do that. They just disagree about how best to do so.

That’s cool. That’s literally politics.

But this shit?

This is just the manic death spasm of a legacy media business model that is accelerating towards extinction.


It’s gonna be a long six weeks. Come, walk with me.