This disgrace passes for governance
With dopes like Deputy PM Michael McCormack breasting the Parliamentary despatch box, one longs for a forced viewing of a Ronald Reagan ‘D’ grade movie. It’s just as well that his post warrants a Com car with chauffeur or he might never find his way to the office. “The Sketch”, by James Jeffrey in The Australian provides plenty of fodder for ridicule of the seat-warmer from the Riverina. The likes of McCormack sucking up about $2 million per year in wages, pensions and perks for a lifetime mounts powerful reason to never vote for major parties forever. Resorting to the ridiculous is perhaps the only way a hapless voter can cope?
As question time crackled with electricity and big sticks, it fell to Deputy PM Michael McCormack to lead by example with a two-watt performance. “You nailed it,” responded a Labor MP impressed by this demonstration of responsible power consumption. When McCormack returned to the despatch box, he slipped into a voice so subtly powered a time-dilation effect kicked in. As seconds began to feel like minutes, minutes like years, minds drifted towards different questions. What was happening in the outside world? What season was it? What careers did one’s children end up following? And so on.
Source: News Corp
The Sketch: no escape from the deputy’s drone attack
When McCormack stops, you are snapped back into the present with chronological whiplash. Then as regular question time resumes, you wish he’d started talking again.
Alas, the government rationed the Deputy PM and question time observers had to make do with more earthly performances. Such as Labor backbencher Tim Watts moving beyond the Muppet-based sledges that have been so in vogue and calling the PM a goose.
Watts was promptly obliged to get the flock out.
Labor’s Ged Kearney served Scott Morrison one on a silver platter: “Why does the PM always choose the worst and weakest policy option on climate change?”
Such things are easily and quickly repurposed, as the PM demonstrated: “The weakest and worst option for the Australian economy is the Australian Labor Party.”
Not quite Disraeli, but it buoyed the troops who just a few days back seemed well beyond buoying.
Indeed, the Coalition ranks seem a bit more cohesive following the latest squirts of Malcolm Turnbull’s Patented Miracle Glue.
But like Watts, ScoMo was in an experimental frame of mind. Stepping away from the tradition of playing on Bill Shorten’s first name (Electricity Bill, Unbelieva-Bill, and so forth), the PM tried “Captain Risky”. (Hey, it worked for Gary Gray when he dubbed Paul Keating Captain Wacky.)
Changing tack, the PM informed the house: “We are going to fight for those Australians who haven’t got the time to go around and get on Twitter and wear T-shirts and turn up at protests.”
Judging by the fingers suddenly pointing towards the corner of the backbench that is forever Hughes, Labor interpreted ScoMo’s words as a reference to the government’s noted Twitter T-shirt model Craig Kelly. Kelly looked like he missed his Menzies threads.
On it chugged, with Chris Bowen suggesting the PM had “already turned his big stick into a toothpick”.
Morrison again sidestepped any urge to echo Disraeli, characterising Bowen as “the biggest wet newspaper in the parliament”.
It was enough to make one long for the sweet drift of McCormack.