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Friday, April 30, 2010

FÜHRERBUNKER: Of the abundance of hate, delusions of grandeur, fantasy, cruelty, inhumanity, and madness inhabiting me, I bequeath to any who want it…



Be all that as it may, meanwhile:
'In other news…'
30th April 2010

Friday: I forced myself up about half eleven, having bunkered down about five, having spent hours fruitlessly trying to repair The Dear Leader's Win XP system overnight; this would be the tenth session I suppose over the this month when I have tried all the usual things, and last night's efforts finally had me get to the blue system repair screen using the six floppy disks method, only to be told after untold hours that the partition is too damaged to repair. Damn, the very scenario I have been working to avoid is now the only scenario: a complete reinstall, with its necessity of reinstallation of dozens of programs and tweaks, none of which The Dear Leader can do.

And so I was most weary when I set to to prepare for taking Bob swimming; getting the kitchen cleaned up somewhat for Missus Inkletter in the meantime, who is spending the day with Meg and Murrah Deeler, Meg recovering from her second year of aggressive cancer therapy.

A balmy day, and this found Bob in good spirits ready to go when I arrived at Guildford afore three, despite his beloved cigarettes going up by two bucks a packet from midnight last night (he was aware of this, mentioning it, but almost certainly not understanding the financial consequences to himself). The Swan Aquatic pool was quiet to start with, until the after school crowd stormed in, with the usual controlled riot ensuing.

Bob was keen to take a long walk afterwards, so we embarked from Ray Marshall Park in Woodbridge to Reg Bond Reserve in Viveash, by which time it was close to dark; the walk back was very pleasant, but having night vision would have been useful (I had a torch, thankfully). About a quarter of the walk has had a lot of work done on the pathway near Viveash since last we walked it, but a week or two back, making it a lot easier to hoof it. This particular walk along the Swan is most delightful, and I hesitate to recommend it lest millions come and spoil it.

It was towards 8 when I got home, and the poor parakeet had an icepack on her head, suffering a migraine. We discussed what might have brought it on, but couldn't pin it down to anything; she didn't have anything out of the ordinary to eat or drink when out today with the Deelers, other than a decaf coffee at a coffee shop, and so it is a matter of hope that they got that right, given the ill-effects too much caffeine can have on her.

I delivered vittles to The Dear Leader, and we watched The Collectors while I ate my vittles, excepting that the drowsy drop dead fell asleep, and I didn't even stir her to guess the Mystery Object, sensing that she needed the sleep more than the bragging rights for guessing the object.

I watched the umpteenth 'Hitler's Bodyguard', caught up with the day's bad news on SBS, and before I knew where I was, the wonderful 'Ladies of Letters' was on, followed by Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: How quickly the Friday night fight club comes around! Ms Sales was dressed in an outfit that she's made the mistake with before, a black jacket that while it is nice enough, it better suits a woman in her sixties, and the large pink six petalled embroidered floral material brooch was both too big and too low – three inches higher on her right shoulder and a couple to her right would make a good difference. The brooch was in the identical position to the last time I saw her wear it, suggesting it might be sewn on, if so, unpick it please and move it up; better still, don't wear this outfit. Maybe it's the collar style, but it ages her. Otherwise, she looked great! No, seriously she did, with tiny earrings, subtle-effect makeup and loose falling but all importantly flaring hair.

The sparring bucks tonight had last appeared together back in mid March, although it seems like only a couple of weeks ago: Michael (Mount Rushmore) Kroger, the former President of the Victorian Liberals, was on-screen from Melbourne, plutonicly resplendent in a dark suit with lines and white shirt, starkly set off with a dark blue patterned tie, and Paul (Johnson & Johnson) Howes, the National Secretary of the Australian Workers' Union was in-studio in Ultimo, also wearing a dark suit with lines and white shirt, but settling for a forces-of-light white tie with mid depth stripes.

The main issue that Ms Sales tried to get the boys to discuss intelligently was the postponing by Kevin Rudd of the ETS legislation, but try as she might, she got plenty of reaction but a dearth of intelligence out of them. I have to hand them all credit for how relatively politely they all behaved, but I was constantly pinching myself to be reminded that these two men are not sitting members of Parliament, because they might as well have been.

Cutting through Mr Howes' constant use of the phrase 'the reality is', could there be any doubt the he will run for pre-selection for Labor one day? His efforts tonight were those of a total apologist for the Government, while his day job is rooting for his union.

However, Mr Howes' lovestruck support for the Government paled into insignificance compared to Mr Kroger's attack upon Prime Minister Rudd, causing me to wonder was Mr Kroger denied some badly desired Vartamurn Lurv by his missus last night or this morning?

Here are most of his disparaging statements about Kevin Rudd: "this disastrous Prime Minister who is the worst prime minister I've ever seen in this country in my lifetime - the worst and getting worse."; "This man believes in nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's a fraud as a prime minister."; "this is a man without beliefs, without a narrative. What does he stand for? Nothing. Nothing."; "a prime minister with no views, no values, no principles and no philosophy. He just picks up the latest fad, runs with it."; "Everything Kevin Rudd touches turns to disaster."; "he's gonna keep the focus entirely on health because everything else he's touched has been a disaster."; "he's made a total hash of everything he's touched."; "Listen, Kevin, you are a public policy disaster zone. Do not touch the tax system between now and the election or you'll make a mess of that too like you've made a mess of everything": "This man has almost no achievements"; "the people who watch politics are aghast with Rudd's performance."

Now the foregoing list will achieve one thing for certain: any reasonable listener will have to discount Mr Kroger's 'insight' substantially, because, while no-one's perfect, least of all Kevin Rudd, the Prime Minister is nowhere as bad as Mr Kroger's invective explicitly paints. A psychologist could have a field day analysing his state of mind from tonight's venomous and ludicrous output; Kevin Rudd has definitely got under Mr Kroger's skin, and if Mr Kroger wants to see him removed from office he'd be well advised to focus his energies into becoming a voice of moderate reason and give believable grounds for the electorate to oust him. (He could do well to model himself, regarding a moderate and intelligent approach, upon a guest Ms Sales interviewed recently, David Frum.)

How can Mr Kroger expect to be taken seriously if he clocks up interviews like tonights?

However, Mr Kroger's hyperbole is based upon some reality: Prime Minister Rudd is the most plastic prime minister I can remember, obsessed with political correctness, and apparently, based on reliable sources, a nasty piece of work in private, and as expert a media manipulator as they come. Nevertheless, he does have worthwhile leadership qualities as well, and has made progress and achievements that have and will benefit our nation. Turkeys like Mr Kroger tend to blab themselves into decreasing relevance with performances like his tonight, and we can be grateful for the amount of rope Ms Sales gave him so that he could hang himself, because it is valuable to know the weaknesses of the movers and shakers in our society.

Forgive me for criticising little the performance of Mr Howes, but don't take that to mean that I approve of most of what he says, but I do hand him the belt for winning tonight's duel, simply because he was the more balanced and moderate; having said that, Mr Howes could have thrown a tantrum for the duration of the interview and he would still have won on these grounds tonight, due to Mr Kroger's over the top puerile behaviour.

Like the Fremantle Doctor on a forty plus day, Stephen Long blew in for his minuscule few minutes of glory, restoring my faith in humanity: The (Stephen) Long and Short of It: My word how spiffy Mr Long looked! A strong blue tie with subsersive motifs set off his faintest shade of blue shirt surrounded by a solid dark blue jacket, his closely cropped curls lacquered down, much to his Mum's dismay.

That disaster that just won't go away, the Greek sovereign debt crisis, was yet again the topic for discussion, a whole greedy three minutes of it. I don't think Mr Long smiled once, as he delineated the dire situation and the black future for Greece, and the risk of financial defaults spreading to the other vulnerable EU nations. And it is good that he told it like it is. The fairy tales do us no good.

I wonder how much extra influence Germany will wrest out of all of this mess, and how long it will take that thorough and patient, if often deluded, nation?
+paytontedwithlove+

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