Update: Richard Fernandez on our own feast of Crispian. In case Wretchard ever notices this, which is ridiculously unlikely, I think the basiv problem was that the average Aussie was pissed off. Maybe not about all the same things but largely in one direction about some key things. Wages have stagnated for years and many people seem worse off despite working harder and harder. It’s harder to buy a home and have kids than it ever was. Regulation is rampant and the economy is struggling, not least because our greatest assets are hobbled by politics and political interests that are not in the public interest. Plus polls have been meaningless globally since 2016. Anyway, Australia lives to fight another day!
On quite different matters, things in la Reppublica of Italia are hotting up and pj media reckons their socialists are in a snit! Happy Days!
Welcome to the day after. By this evening, I guess most ALP and Greens supporters have dragged themselves up off the carpet, if they didn’t actually drown in their own leftist tears overnight. The prescription meds, the coffee machines, the suddenly booked holidays and massage retreats, the iPhones must have been working overtime today, the poor sooks.
The Liberal National Coalition has plucked an unlikely victory out of the din and barrage of this election’s fray, almost like a miracle. For those unfamiliar with Australia it is at heart a bucolic, practical nation. We don’t like people pissing in our pockets, as we say here, and which we now strongly suspect has been happening on both sides for longer than we care to think. I am not now and have never been a member of a political party but as an Australian I must say that when things have looked pretty dire, we’ve never been gutless wimps or ‘quitters’, as the losing but not quitting now former Federal Member for Warringah, Tony Abbott said last night, in a most excellent farewell speech.
Scott Morrison the returning PM also seems a straight up and down bloke who very importantly for Aussies (yes, we deplorables and irredeemables but normies) is not up himself, and comes across as not doctrinaire and not too establishment but with the due degree of patriotism. Scomo isn’t much of a quitter he reckons either.
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
That may be a bit over the top but OTOH the Left is incapable of grace and experiencing an emotional bloodbath so I might as well indulge in some crowing. The media or at least we the taxpayer’s state broadcaster ABC, was simply a picture to watch last night. My dear better half was transfixed by the Opposition leader’s red robotic wife whom he described as a zombie in shock. The glum faces, the confusion, the tears. Sky’s coverage was good if only for Chris Bowen’s reactions alone, which were schadenfreudelicious. Thing is, the count was steady and the LNP took an early lead last night and just never looked back.
I’ve counted four or five elections in a row now where each time the ALP and its far-left spawn blames us, the electorate – we got it wrong, we were misled, we are meaner, more easily duped and more heartless than they thought we were, we need to die. The last bit I made up, but the implicit often rude disdain for the voting public by the Australian left is truly a sight to behold. Politically of course though, it is SO November 7, 2016. Why on earth does any Australian still put up with the leftist mob?
Glenn Reynolds often refers to his country’s immensely powerful media as Democrat operatives and shills spewing out coordinated DNC talking points with revolving doors between the Beltway and CNN, NBC, MSNBC and the other alphabet networks. This phenomenon of in-crowd fungibility, which is really anti-law and order nepotism, was displayed with amazing vulgarity and professional seamlessness during the Obama celebrity administration and of course during Bill Clinton’s abominable time too. We have our own media shills here in Australia, and they just took a whipping. They’ve all been left gasping that the pre-polls lied! OMG! No shit, Sherlock.
Unfortunately, it was part of our peculiar Aussie history to roil with class, religious and other social distinctions, and those impulses mainly came from England and set up shop here. Some of us also have strong or weak, mainly historical attachments to unions and other foreign bodies that are utopian, tribal, imperialist, revolutionary and/or grievance-based. In the fifties, a conservative prime minister once tried long ago to ban the local branch of the Communist Party but never succeeded – probably for the best. We fought like lions in wars but held no particular grudge or resentment against others for long, only loyalty to country and mateship with each other. We like a good piss up with mates, we like fishing and eating. Simple, average, ordinary folk-normies, most of us basically. Dinkum.
There was once a saying that Australians were just happy Poms, but it’s more than that (although it is partly that too). The size of Australia, its heat and isolation, the sheer relentlessness of the landscape, its freedoms and its costs, pounds the Australian mindset. The country is old, hot and unforgiving and so we could not afford any mental boundaries of any meaning in Australia if we were to thrive. The hot sun and hard work has very equalising effect and this is why the old class distinctions of England never settled well here.These days, the world’s resources are in your hand and real distance is the only impediment left.So we have grown a little soft and a little lazy.There has always been a misunderstanding about Aussies, we’re not lazy we just work when we have to but when we knock off we really knock off. We (mostly) work to live not live to work.
Where I live, the kookaburras, parrots and magpies fly overhead. Right now, the white cockatoos are feeding on the green grass under orange autumn poplar leaves. Our region is known for fine micron wool, our town for tradies, serving military and footy fields, and we have a largely non-hectic but not uniformly wealthy existence. By 5 am on most days, the utes begin to pull out of the driveways, by 8 am the second cars head off with kids in tow. It has gum trees, a town park, a council chambers and houses and flats stretching over gentle, undulating hills. In the distance is a small city. By the late Australian afternoon the sunlight over this place is beautiful, but to be fair that same lovely light falls no matter where you are on this fine continent. Australia, you know you’re standing in it. Happy days