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Thursday, November 12, 2009

LANGFORD GROVE: “Roses are red, the sky is blue, argon light isn’t red, it’s blue too: repeat this rapidly while strutting,” challenges P.L. Inkletter

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

In other news…

12th November 2009:

Thursday: A very humid day with some very light rain of the late summer kind, continuous for half an hour, and I’m not complaining. When did ‘today’ start? Good question.

I ‘got up’ after ten last night, and went to bed about one in the afternoon ‘today’. Overnight I did a huge kitchen clean up in preparation for The Babies’ visit tonight, and managed also a wee small hours walk. A bit of back yard gardening maintenance before the rain; and did I ever mention the willie wagtails nesting up the back?: they have three chicks out of the nest but not yet flying, just sitting dutifully near the nest, and being admirably fed and protected by their hard working parents.

The hassled honeypie informed The Dear Leader by the dog and bone that she was so tired – true – that she was going to go to bed early afternoon (with me as it turned out), but not before thrashing me to within an inch of my vinegar string, finally flinging me off, as she is want to do, like an empty Mars Bar wrapper, having achieved her satiation and then some. And so we slept…

The carnal caricature only slept for half an hour, but she left me snoozing till half six, when it was flat stick for me to wake up and be alive enough to face the evening’s socialising. We did enjoy the company of The Babies Ink&Peggletter from half seven very much, the dutiful daughter having picked up The Dear Leader some hours earlier, having delivered a meal to the Deelers first, Meg having been finished with her radiotherapy early due to complications from it; they were very appreciative of the kindness.

A highlight of the evening, which tonight unusually did not involve any board games, was the group devouring of a durian, and we all agreed it was a good experience, despite the strange combinations of rotten egg gas smell, peppery flavour, and sweetness, with close to the seed mango stringiness.

I copied a pile of Radio National mp3s to Baby Inkletter’s USB stick, to help promote the continuance of the square genetics inherent in this line of the Inkletter clan; she in fact regularly emails me lists of these mp3s to download for her, and bless Aunty’s woollen socks for providing them.

After the guests left, taking The Dear Leader with them to drop home, I caught the remainder of Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: As usual, Ms Sales looked a sight for sore eyes, wearing a simple black long sleeved blouse, subtle make-up, becoming loose hair styling, and attractive effect long earrings. Her long interview tonight was with Finance Minister Lindsay Tanner, looking very smart in a traditional dark suit white shirt combination, jazzed up with a snippy geometric patterned grey blue and black tie, his 19 strands of hair immaculately coiffured as is appropriate for such endangered species, and Shadow Education Minister Christopher Pyne, who shone in a dark grey suit and white shirt duo, set of with a maroon boldly striped tie, his curly mop not quite the equal of Stephen Long at his most John the Baptist. So this means also I am presenting another The (Christopher) Pyne O Cleen (Anti) Septic Assessment: (Aunty, you are regularly not putting up the transcripts to these interviews in a timely manner, like simultaneously with you’re putting of the vodcasts to air, like often you do) The boys were boned up to defend their respective sides of politics, and I feel sorry for Mr Tanner having to defend his leader’s pathetic handling of the ongoing Sri Lankan asylum seeker issue: an epitome of weakness writ large to the oppressed as well as the self interested world.

Mr Pyne – and, as much as it pains me to concede it, who could blame him? – laid the boots into the Government’s dealings with the asylum seekers, but as per usual he dodged Ms Sales’ question about a constructive alternative for the current situation. To date I haven’t heard a single member of the Opposition give such for the CURRENT situation since it began, and while Rudd has done some damn weak things, such as use stupid terms like ‘infinite patience’, and while it does not sit comfortably with me to align too often with the following fellow with a number of red neck if not simplistic views, I find Barnaby Joyce’s recent weighing in with his advice – that the asylum seekers needed to be given an ultimatum lasting about 48 hours – would have been better than the mamby pamby nonsense Rudd has been flirting with; protagonists play to the weakest areas in their opponents.

Mr Tanner certainly uses the “I don’t know…” line to his advantage repeatedly in his interviews, and tonight was no exception; I cannot exactly blame a politician finding various ploys to avoid answering things they don’t want to, but it must frustrate the hapless journos who never get their trickier questions answered, and it is always déjà vu for the long suffering politically interested audience.

The most interesting part of the interview was near the end when Mr Tanner and Ms Sales asked Mr Pyne if he was the source of the charge that Nick Minchin is a ‘complete fruit loop… they (the Government) came out behaving like total fwits’, but this fellow, who many have unkindly referred to as an overflowing nightsoil pan, denied it with typical Pynespeak, using a telling term when he said the Opposition’s “…primary responsibility is to remove this rancid Government at the next election…”; this type of rancour from the Opposition truly does not serve them well, but it has been evident in spades in the things their spokesmenandwomen have said publicly countless times in the past couple of years: they are smarting still at losing the election, and bitterly resent that the Australian voting populace gave the other side a go; grow up Opposition, you have long driven home to us that you are sore losers, you’ll get your turn again, and it’ll be even more likely when you behave with greater maturity and decorum. (I am aware of the irony of my frequent use of questionable and less than edifying descriptors for certain folk in the public eye.)

I also find descriptions such as ‘rancid Government the harder to take from dumps-of-ambition-only for Prime Ministership; and the way our world works in these still relatively primitive times, ambition and connivance, when strong enough, often deliver the top job: yes, Prime Minister Pyne is a real possibility; if it transpires, I only hope that he will have improved in his inner world substantially by then – the best leaders are from among those who can take or leave the position, meaning their self element is low.

Mr Tanner made an appropriate cutting remark as an interjection: “I’d hate to see what his behaviour’d be like if he wasn’t a team player!

To her credit, Ms Sales finished the interview with a generous thank you to them both, saying sincerely “Always a pleasure to have the pair of you on…

The perfumed policewoman caught me falling asleep after this interview ended, and ordered me to bed, and I meekly complied, after the usual long-winded ritual of teeth flossing, cleaning, gargling, titivating; this meant I missed out on my walk, my writing, my research… but she was right to force the point, for I was deeply tired.


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