Send your
own sons,
John

For All of Us™ Body Bags Pty Ltd in futures frenzy
Harold Hark
13 September 2002

The world pool of talent for sane leadership has clearly dried up. All around us, grown men and Condoleezza Rice are cawing for the head of Saddam Hussein as if he were poised to wipe us out overnight.

But wait. Weren't the posses galloping after Osama bin Laden just a few months ago? You know, the rich Saudi who engineered 9/11? As karma would have it, they haven't been able catch him or even verify his death, so it's back to Saddam, toppled from first place for awhile, but safe once again as America's most wanted.

Here in Australia, John Howard, the suburban solicitor who somehow managed to break through the thick skin of political scum to become our repugnant leader, is trying his best to whip us into a frenzy for the crusade against the Baghdadi butcher. Last month he and Little Lord Downer (who increasingly looks like an aging, puffy-faced rent boy in one of Fassbinder's seedier films) were advocating a pre-emptive strike before bedtime. Anyone who questioned their authority to do exactly what Junior Bush's latest whim dictated was labelled a mouthpiece for Saddam.

Now it appears that Junior (who, as Christopher Hitchens has pointed out, has "eyes so close together he could use a monocle") has changed his mind and decided the UN should be involved, so here come L'il Junior and the Lordlet huffing and puffing to catch up. You can just hear their breathless attempts to sound credible.

To no avail.

But never mind, Australia's Scum at the Top has promised full and frank debate in Parliament if the nation is called upon to help America's Scum at the Top secure the oil fields of Iraq for the benefit of he and his friends in the business.

Yeah, about oh, say, thirty minutes of Dorothy Dixers, with a few Speaker-denied objections from the Opposition. "Well, you can't say I squibbed that promise," John will say as he scurries to a press conference to announce Australia's keen support of the US as it swoops to crowbar the Gates of Hell.

And so the war of the white men with lotsa power and little dicks will come to pass. In January no doubt, since the Northern Hemisphere winter will be on and the GI's won't have to sweat. Then again, the Great Hegemon will likely use smart bombs and the like to keep the bubbas safe in their offshore bunks, their underarms nice and dry.

And Australia's boys and girls, what of them? With a decent education harder and harder to buy, unemployment going up and up (despite fudged stats to the contrary), and more and more chump channel ads for a life of social irrelevance in the armed services, they might as well sign up now.

After they get their nuts and tits and other bits blown off, they can count on John Howard to spend a lot of the time he's not talking in his sleep to pat them on their stumps or put up memorials here, there and everywhere (as long as they're in Coalition electorates). Dead or maimed beyond recognition, they can feel a great patriotic pride in doing their duty to keep L'il Junior cosy and comfy as he happily peeks out of Big Junior's vest pocket.

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