Waiting for Godot's Scare Campaign.
Waiting for Godot's Scare Campaign.
Thirty-five airfields is a whole lotta airfields to build when you’re the Solomon Islands and you’ve only got half a dozen planes to fly out of them. It almost makes you wonder why a bloke like Xi Jinping, who doesn’t look like a soft touch, would blow hundreds of millions of dollars like that. The Memorandum of Understanding between one of China's largest defence and aerospace companies and the Solomon Islands, revealed by the ABC this morning, doesn’t really explain the math either.
I suppose that Solomon Airlines, proud owner of one Airbus A320, three Twin Otters and a single Dash 8 could spice up the inbound tourism market with mystery flights, wherein the mystery involves guessing which of the many possible airfields your flight might arrive at or depart from.
More likely though, old mate Xi has something else in mind.
Possibly not, as Home Affairs Minister Karen Andrews insisted this week, the defeat of his nemesis Scott Morrison…
… And maybe not even building out a web of military bases. He wouldn’t need to. The beauty of the deal Beijing cut with Honiara is the strategic pay off it delivers on the cheap. Because Scotty and the Fail Dumpling Gang bunglefucked the management of whatever shenanigans Manasseh Sogavare is up to, both Australia and the US are now forced to plan for a future in which thirty-plus dual-use Chinese airfields are sitting less than an hour’s flying time from the Queensland coast.
Nice one, lads.
Morrison is paying for it though, at least during the campaign. The hysterical anti-Chinese, Manchurian Candidate, Reds-under-the-bed scare the Libs were hoping to run doesn’t land with quite the same impact when you’re the clusterfucktician responsible for letting the Reds under the bed in the first place. It doesn’t stop them trying of course, with various ministers pushing out competing excuses, reasons and justifications which range from Sergeant Schultz (“We knew nuthink! Nuthink!”) to Elon Musk
Indeed the self sabotage of the government’s scare campaign on national security joins the wreckage of their other hoped for scary-stories-in-the-dark about the economy, a carbon tax, religious discrimination, and men playing sport as women to unjustly trouser the mountains of mad prize money for which women’s sport is so very famous. In each case, however, the hoped for storm of super horror Albo-terror either materialised as a damp fart of so-fucking-whatery, or it blew back on the source.
The Reserve Bank will probably jack up interest rates next week, because the Reserve Bank are a bunch of rock-hard, Tonka tough gangsters who could care less about whether Smoko gets to finish that bullshit cubby house he started working on for a photo op at the prime ministerial crib. They might even put both boots in, going for a whole half a percentage point boost which will add about three hundred dollarydoos a month to the average Sydney mortgage, which doesn’t buy much in the way of a two bedroom semi detached hovel these days.
The wholesale price of electricity is up about a hundred percent - mostly because of demand for coal off the back of the war in Ukraine, and problems with Australia’s ageing fleet of coal fired power stations.
The ALP’s ‘sneaky’ carbon tax turns out, on closer inspection, to be LNP policy that the Labor Party just photocopied and stuck into their platform.
And although beating up on trans kids might play well in some of the outer marginals where Morrison hopes to make up his losses, a three hundred dollar kick in the guts from the Reserve will probably play harder.
At any rate, good luck pushing this particular barrel of shit up hill, Scotty.
It’s the problem of a man who believes in nothing other than his own entitlement to rule, and is so scared of losing it that his only coherent message is yammering fear.
Doesn’t mean it won’t work for him, of course.
But it all goes, yet again, to show that this man is not fit for the office he occupies.
Assuming we’re not all wiped out by some man made clusterfuck, or living in a Gilligans Island meets Mad Max post apocalyptic lifestyle, I wonder what historians will write about Australia and it’s politics in this period.
I hope they dig up some your scribbles JB and make the kiddies in the future look at them as historical sources.
Gone are the days when the only threat that the Chinese posed to us was the danger of being run over by them in their Mercedes. Now that old fifties and sixties fear of the endless ranks of the soldiers of the Peoples Liberation Army storming our beaches, has now morphed an armada of fleets of naval and air craft lobbing hypersonic missiles from the comfort of their own bases, and all this from one of our nearest neighbours.
Every edition of the nationwide Pravda and the tabloid version, Izvestia, will invent every crime that the Labor party have ever commited, including the disappearance of Harold Holt.
Now that the fourth estate has been emasculated, the News Corp cabal are going to whip themselves into a frenzy, and have brought out their biggest guns. The Sky After Dark coven will be bolstered by Piers,the big mouth organ,Morgan and that wizand out blowhard, Alan, the blithering blusterer, Jones. Todays news that Jonesy has built a multi million dollar bunker to broadcast the message of the death of civilisation as we know it by the wokey anarchists, has emboldened the dark forces to make a pilgramage to his studio door. A golden hassock has been laid at his feet so that the fidei defensor may bask in his wisdom.
The Chinese Politburo have no defense against Jonesy, the shadow prime minister, and have instructed their fifth columnists to administer a large dose of Novichok as discreetly as possible.
The services of Andrew, Darwin Port, Robb have been called upon, to grovel at the feet of the Great Dictator, in the hope of averting another catastrophic political blunder for the liar from the shire.
Where is Andrew Downer when we need him, a microphone or two in Manasseh Sogavare cabinet room, would mean ASIS will not have to leave their Canberra citadel, just crowd around the speaker and order in some pizza.