I’m cooking dinner for the still partly absent family and keeping an eye on the 7.30 Report over my shoulder, an evening of jobless, Costello and fear. Roll on those lazy hazy crazy days eh?
Today Costello made the papers, again, and then wheeled himself round parliament at better than Howard pace in what is apparently an Essendon training strip … a get up garish enough to pass as some sort of search and rescue rig for bankers who fear infarction during mid-morning jogs. He was the only Canberra power walker yesterday bright enough to be seen from space. He said nothing. Which is, let’s face it his long suit: enigmatically eloquent.
If ever he stoops to high office he might refine this technique and take it to its full extension, staging press conferences in which he stands, impassive, smiling a little, even moving to the odd hyper expressive grin, but saying not a word. All would then be possible. Everything would be a matter of divination. The well-honed craft of evasive politics would meet in rapturous union with the primary journalistic need to interpret. True bliss.
We will move on from this one day and elect a mime as PM. He or she will be a Democrat (an emerging preference for the circus arts in politics will be their ticket back). In a black leotard. With a beret. And a gerbera. Which really is all you need to say in most instances about anything except the finer detail of the national accounts, a moment that probably calls for white clownface. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
One Comment
Finally! A workable strategy for a Democrat revival!! And I already own leotards and a beret, so I’m most of the way there. (not so sure about the gerbera though)
Mime would certainly make more sense that most of what passes for political ‘debate’.