#AusPol winners and losers: Who got baked by the potato?

Hollywood descended on Canberra, an inexplicable promotion and the debut single from Alex Jones. It was a very stupid week in #AusPol.

I’m hard pressed to come up with a smarmy introductory paragraph this week, for what was presented by our elected officials was so utterly ridiculous, I can barely see the screen through my perpetually shaking head. There is a plus side, in that surely we’ve reached the absolute bottom, and surely from here the only way is up, and the only days from here on out are going to be — I can’t even finish that sentence. I envy that robot.




Michael Bay, for successfully crossing over into politics.

From the director most likely to pleasure himself over an explosion, comes the next shameless vote grab from the guy who got elected because we thought he was someone else. Malcolm Turnbull: Tank Harder.


Strap in for a program much much worse than the original. Featuring, More guns. More mysterious powers we don’t understand, and most importantly, more Dutton.

Much. More. Dutton.

Assemble for a policy so lazy, that it was stolen wholesale while on holiday in Europe. Like a churro truck. Gaze at Michael Bay’s next instalment of the Transformers franchise, where everyday centre-right politicians turn into talking robots powered by the right wing Christian establishment.

Decepticons, roll out.


Scott Ludlam, for throwing shade from beyond the grave.

This week, we lost noted Senatorial memelord Scott Ludlam, who was so great at his job, he forgot to read the fine print. Sadly his departure leaves us with the original #AusPol odd couple as the Minsters for Lols, Sam Dastyari and Pauline Hanson. However, as Ludders was cut down by the red lightsaber of constitutional law, he was back later in the week, in spirit form, to nitpick the syntax of some grammatically impaired hate.




The United Nations, for allowing a civil war to rage in our borders unchecked.

There’s a battle brewing. One that is set to cleave this country in twain. One where you are selected not by choice, but by birthright. In the greatest battle on Australian soil since the Emu War of 1932 (seriously, look it up, it’s moronic), comes the ideological powered conflict between McManusstan and Duttonia.


Honestly, 2017 has been the year of incorrect 1984 references. However, this is as close as we’ve come so far, on a global scale, and that gives me an erection powered by fear and pride. We have a brand new Ministry with extraordinary powers, shrouded in mystery, versus a foreign country (and moral code) that we believe to be our greatest enemy, but we only truly see them when it’s time for very public executions on QandA. Fortunately, we’ve got shouty headlines to think for us. Doubleplusgood, eh?

Remember. We’re at War with McManusstan. We’ve always been at War with McManusstan.


Miranda Devine, for having her preconceptions confirmed by a brain tumour.

Everyone’s favourite well-meaning Stars and Stripes frozen vegetable sobriqueted grandfather John McCain met some rather horrible news this week, as the Republican Presidential nominee was diagnosed with cancer. The feeling around Washington was one of well wishes and high hopes, even from his greatest political antagonist, Barack Obama, who tweeted this:


However, on more familiar shores, the discourse took a more, well, scenic route.




Honourable mentions

The Golden Emerson – awarded to those who waste everyone’s time with complete verbal tosh – goes to:

Malcolm Roberts, for distancing himself from scandal, by adding more scandal.

You were safe from the great Capital Hill witch-hunt of ’17, provided you weren’t a foreigner. Malcolm Roberts knew this, so he took to Twitter this week to explain that while he was born in India, he was certainly no Indian.



Probably worth mentioning that the ‘chucker’ reference was toward the suspect bowling action of Muttiah Muralitharan, who is from Sri Lanka.


The Secret Verbs and Spicers for the sauciest, most regret-inducing piece of fried hyperbole each week goes to:

Brisbane Greens Councillor Jonathon Sri, for carrying us for eight miles in his shoes.

It was a banner week for interesting looking folk lurking in the background of a news conference, giving us both the faceless stormtrooper, and the most Greens Greens candidate in recorded history.


However, while the military goon opted for a silent brand of terror, the latter opted for something far more brutal. Slam poetry about policy. Together at long last. Good lord. Haven’t The Greens suffered enough this week?


Bro. Stop. And please don’t steal my girlfriend at the next house party I see you at.


Lastly, before we part, I’d like to share the debut EP from everyone’s favourite jacked wacko from the Pikes Peak of unreliable sources and lobotomised rhetoric, Infowars’ Alex Jones.

See you next week.


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