||Issue No. 279||02 September 2005|
Interview: Polar Eclipse
Industrial: Wrong Turn
Unions: Star Support
Workplace: Checked Out
Economics: Sold Out
Politics: Green Banned
History: Potted History
International: Curtain Call
Review: Little Fish
Poetry: Slug A Worker
The Locker Room
One of the defining moments of political journalism in this country was when Richard Carleton turned to the then opposition leader and asked "blood on your hands Mr Hawke?"
It was a question that reverberated around the nation that had eerie parallels this week when another opponent of Malcolm Fraser made headlines.
Even as the headlines made headlines, a shining new Tool emerged on the Australian political landscape as the hitherto unknown Alex Hawke stood up and made a right goose of himself by taking out a political leader, which was unfortunately, or fortunately if you're a public servant, his own.
While many residents in the Tool Shed over the years have given sometimes decades of effort and purpose towards becoming a Tool, our Tool Of The Week has emerged like a rising star, almost as forgettable as the latest Australian idol, but with bad hair and sans the teeth.
This gormless youth has taken it upon himself to correct the error of everyone else's ways but his own; demonstrating a style and a diligence that can only be compared to the Simpsons' Smithers.
(The NSW Liberal party is getting more and more like the Simpsons; they even have a Ned Flanders)
Our staunch Monarchist certainly likes his Queens by all accounts, so it comes a surprise that he would let the idle brashness of youth lead him to think that disseminating information about certain persons that other people may or may not find useful and/or interesting - or evenm palatable.
Being a boy who likes to sing along at Hillsong, you'd think he'd know that bit of the Gospel of saint Matthew that refers to living by the sword.
Alas, like reality, this information appears to have flown blissfully over his head.
No, the tragic John Brogden said that Alex Hawke needed to have a good hard look at himself, which is not a pretty thought, but the chances of that are about three fifths of Bronwyn Bishops IQ, which is to say, nada.
No, oblique little Alex will go on in life blissfully unaware of his own inadequacies, or even the pathos he engenders, which is to be expected given that one of his hobbies is learning how to kill people.
Brogden was right to refer to him as the "Clown of the Liberal party", only no one's laughing at Alex's joke anymore.
Brogden was a sexist, racist fool who showed why good governance and a professional political class go together like fish heads and ice cream.
But even his effort paled into pathos earlier in the week, while Alex continues on his dream of privatising the ABC, hanging out at handgun toting branch meetings up in the hills, expelling Malcolm Fraser from the Liberal Party and generally being the ideological equivalent of a dull witted, self obsessed dork.
In the wake of Brogden's behaviour it comes as little surprise that the heir apparent for the "Rabid Rottweiler Right", as they are affectionately known, is no more a fan of mail order brides than the last klutz who led the incredible shrinking party.
So we are left with this moral pygmy as the rising star of the lunar right and their dream of a scorched earth Australia, and the best defence of their position is not to be found in the works of John Stuart Mill or Edmund Burke, but rather in oscar wilde and the love of a good titillating gossip.
This little merkin should scurry back to the school playground where he belongs before he does himself a damage, but for his own safety little Alex Hawke can spend a week in the Tool Shed writing out a thoiusand times "I will not be a self obsessed little prat who thinks he can tell everyone else what is good for them while being a screaming hypocrite myself".
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