THE SUBS 'N' DUDS | Number 1 |
REPORT | 8 April 1996 |
| Editor: Harold Hark | Melbourne, Australia |
VICTORIA'S ELECTION: SNIGGERING RAPACITY TRIUMPHS
Entry-Level Humans Return Kennett In a stunning display of misanthropic self-interest, 53% of Victorians renewed the dictatorship of the smug tyrant and his agents of democracide. Blinkered at best, blind as a rule, these people are the notorious Silent Majority, the historic backers of repression. They are an ever present cancer on the pathetic attempts of conscious human beings to evolve beyond greed to a level where the well-being of the poor insures the well-being of all. They lack even the smallest inkling of the complexity of life and the absolute certainty of death. They have no humour, no joie de vivre, no compassion, no conception of The Other. They exist in a closed circuit of thoughtless power-envy and disdain for those who can never hope to obtain it. They are defined by commercial television, adopting personas based on the cynical manufacture of human caricatures therein. They do not read books or newspapers (other than the sports pages), nor do they view movies, other than the pap sent over from America, Land of the Puer. They wouldn't know Mozart from Andrew Lloyd Webber, and their idols are to found in the magazines at supermarket checkout stands. To a man and woman, they came down in the last shower, and not until they pass through a few more lives can they be counted on to step forward and defend the ideals of democracy. Yes and no. Yes , in that any party other than the Coalition would have been preferable. No , in that, besides a perceived lack of talent in the Labor Party, to buck the world trend of domination by economic rationalism would have been an anomaly of impossible proportions. There can be no doubt that the world is in the grip of a new dictator: the conglomerate of multinational corporations and their regulatory bodies, the World Bank, the World Trade Organisation, and the IMF. Governments to the left and right are in its grip, and until this fascist capitalism runs its course...that is, until all nations are reduced to that status of "third world countries," when even the Gecko-ites are getting the short end...there is precious little to hope for in terms of a return to civilised life. There is a long, long fight ahead. From Boofhead to Demagogue to...? "The German People wanted a leader who was strong, not democratic." (From Hitler: A Profile, as shown on SBS Television.) Indeed, Jeff Kennett, the man who in so many photographs looks like a clean-shaven Adolph Hitler, now has...yet again...a virtual dictatorship. Der Boofhead is in no way comparable to Hitler in terms of lust for world domination or racial genocide, but he can be likened in many other ways. He despises the media which is not his, cloaks his subordinates and their deals in absolute secrecy, shows no mercy for critics, plays ethnic groups against one another, refuses to consult, and treats the non-business community with contempt. Jeff's nationalism is that of a businessman, to whom every country is equal in its plunderable resources. Yet he does have a bee in his bonnet for "the good of Victoria and Victorians." Indeed, he loves his fodderland so much that "un-Victorians" are treated to verbal execution. Frighteningly, his scant regard for the social consequences of his "reforms" are shared by his followers. Jeff Kennett's massive re-election must hold parallels with Hitler's consolidation of power in the 1930's. Only a bye-election in New South Wales stands in the way of a Coalition sweep of Australia. Canberra's new government is positively bristling with power, the power to cut, slash and hack the Australian community in order to show Standard and Poor's that Australia too can be come a third world country. In Victoria we have already been forced to become silent stockholders in the Kennett Corporation. Forty-seven percent of this state's voters have no voice. Whatever can be sold will be privatised, hospitals will continue to be desecrated, as will schools. The latter desecration is of particular use to the Coalition. As the right traditionally holds higher education with suspicion, the stress will be on trades and business. Wasn't it Mighty Merchant himself who said that the highest pinnacle for any young person to reach is to own a small business? Educated citizens may not put up with populist demagoguery, but the less educated and MBA types are the fodder of philistine dreams. The de-education of youth began in the early 1960's. Today one in three children are illiterate and enumerate. A conspiracy? Who cares. The fact is, these people are not equipped to think clearly. We are talking generations of subservience and collaboration here. Dissent will be less and less tolerated. With a "mandate" this large, the government will be far less inclined to be lenient. Using the taxpayer wallets of toadies and foes alike, the PR machine will continue to spend millions per annum to grind out propaganda denouncing resistance to its programs. Further down the line...once the Feds have broken the back of industrial relations...the police will be called in more and more to enforce majority/master rule. One wonders if those tens of thousands of annual Victorian refugees to other states would have made a difference in this election. Surely, Coalition supporters among them were few. WHERE'S ME TABLETS! Kennett's Gang of 61 is Reduced... ...but the legacy of shame lives on. Yes, it's bye-bye and good riddance to Don "Psycho Eyes" Hayward, whose avuncular ignorance of the Education portfolio decimated the state school system, bringing fear and exhaustion to teachers and principals; Haddon "Wouldn't Have a Clue" Storey, whose blind eyes offered fresh and unfettered horizons to Scrooges McWalker and McWilliams; and Michael "Happy Futures" John, whose relief from the Community Services Ministry of Schadenfreude, prevents him continuing the joyous task of making miserable the lives of new mothers and the mentally impaired. This portfolio goes to Dr Denis Napthine, spineless Larval Party yes man for Portland. Marie Antehanette is still around, God help us, though she slithers down slope from Health to Conservation and Land Management. Sick and flummoxed humans will no longer be told to eat cake, but how will she deliver the message to Victoria's flora and fauna? "Cull the four-legged vermin?" Mark "Screw the Abo's, let's call it White Man's Peak" Birrell takes on Master/Servant Relations, bequeathed to him by Phil Gude, who can now crack a bottle of No Frills Scotch for inspiration as he staggers over the wasteland left by the above mentioned Dunce of Flunkeys. Remaining safe in their crypts are Alan "Pee in your own boots" Brown, Rob "King Kong up a highrise" Maclellan, and Jan "I survived Afghanistan but you won't" Wade. We await the placement of others guilty of democracide, such as Geoff Spring, Leonie Burke, Elizabeth Proust, and Dr John Patterson. All in all, a cabinet designed to warm the heart-replicas of misanthropes everywhere. Sir Bully and Lady Bubbles in: Another four years! And with an even greater majority! Victory headquarters thundered with applause as the Greatest Leader of this or any other century, Sir Bully Floggit, appeared with His lovely wife, the Lady Bubbles, to express their gratitude to all those Subs 'n' Duds who worked so tirelessly in returning the Larval Party to power. And did they ever. With an avalanche of votes, these intellectual googoos--enticed from the schoolyard of authentic identity into a lifetime of unquestioning subservience by EconoRat perverts --not only buried the opposition but irritating democracy as well. To jocular shouts of "Call 'em 'victims' again, like you did last election!" Sir B. suavely demurred, instead inviting every one upstairs for the Swindlers and Looters Ball. It was an event that set the benchmark for revelry in usufruct. Yes, there's nothing like a taxpayer-funded blowout to give Larvals that dexi-barbital sense of unlimited worth based in a visionless void. With the party motto, GREED IS GOOD; CRUELTY IS DOUBLEPLUSGOOD, gothically inscribed on dozens of banners hanging from ceiling to floor, the assembled dissemblers hailed and heartied as if each had just won the lottery. And, in effect, they had, for each would continue to reap rewards undreamed of in the bad old days of accountability. Stepping to the podium for an after-dinner speech, the Man now-humiliated detractors once dubbed 'The Wheel Clamper of Politics,' called for quiet. Well oiled and unable to suppress sniggers of gleeful contempt, Sir Bully--after first assuring the party-goers that the sniggers were not meant for them--opened with a show stopper. "Let me make a solemn commitment," he began. "To show that I genuinely care about the hopes and dreams of the 'forgotten people,' I am going to authorise that a golden dome be placed atop the Palace of Hubris." To a round of applause and guffaws, He further promised to dedicate its grand unveiling in the year 2000 "to all those teachers and nurses who, by then, will surely be homeless!" Euphoric laughter filled the great room, with each individual's laugh a faithful and well practiced rendition of his or her favourite American sitcom hero. "To that end," He went on, "I have to say to you that in order to fund this much-needed monument, the education industry and in particular the public hospital system will need further downsizing." Forced to put up His hands to quell a chorus of mock complaints, He answered, "Yes, that's just what we'll be hearing from the other mob: whingeing, bitching jealousy. Well, let them carp till they crap, we've got the power! Not just some of it, but all of it! And what are we going to do with it? Sell, sell, sell! After all, this once proud state is for sale and we can't have wheelers and dealers flying in from Umeruhca to be wined and dined in the present chook shack, now can we? They're not going to shell out their hard-conned dollars for a state whose main claim to fame is in making sick people comfortable in reopened wings of grubby public hospitals! We've worked hard to close those beds!" Pandemonium ensued for several minutes as the Only One thanked His Throng and left the podium, deferring to His wife, the Lady Bubbles. Stunning and as wide-eyed as Carmen Miranda at her luck in landing a boof with pull, she told of her plans to buy the state's entire rural sector from the Confiscation Bank of Australia. And how is she going to pay for it? By prudently saving the loose change her clever husband gets from having absolutely no connection with the Grand Casino being built by The Favoured Ones. She's earmarked her coming acquisition for His future retirement, when they can at last enjoy the fruits of democratically elected corruption by growing paddock after paddock of mugwort. And how will they oversee this tribute of Sir Bully's magnanimity to those favoured few? By speeding up and down the property's surrounding highways (free, by virtue of taxpayer-funded bribes, from police interference) in any number of BMW's, Mercs and Saabs donated by that oh so perked fraternity through whose greased palms the wretched of this once proud state will have, by then, slid to the penuriously just desserts of their wilful ignorance. The applause was deafening, the conga lines unending. |
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