As Australia becomes Ashtraylia a lot of negative fools out there are still hating on our Prime Minister because he wisely chose to leave this sinking ship for an extended family break.
Or, we should say, he chose to flee this burning ship, since Australia was well and truly alight by the time he had the lei placed around his neck by the Polynesian Princess that greeted the PM’s plane as it landed in the land of Aloha.
Let’s face it, if you could jump on a plane right now and fly to heavenly Hawaii, wouldn’t you? The air is much cleaner for a start plus there is not so much ash and sizzled kangaroo floating around in the drink.
You can catch a wave without having the charred corpse of a Rural Firefighter crashing into your board as you hang ten or whatever it is surfers call it.
Nope, Australia is a mess right now, and if you’re the man expected to answer questions and supply solutions for an uncontainable problem then your best bet is to go out for a very long lunch and leave the rest up to your spin doctors and the journalists from The Australian.
But ScoMo didn’t do that. The PM was dumb enough to return, and angry citizens of towns that are so devastated by the fires that there’s no point in even giving them a name anymore, aren’t happy.
Seriously, when are the Plebs and lumpen proletariat going to understand that ScoMo is nothing more than the managing director of an international franchise. He signs the papers and smiles for the cameras, nothing more.
He doesn’t hold a hose, as he rightly pointed out, and he puts all his faith in God. And that’s the god that’s worshipped by the evangelicals of Australia’s zaniest pop church, The Hillsong Church. Frankly, if you’re house burned down then it’s probably because you didn’t pray enough or something.
Still, ScoMo realises that there is publicity opportunities in seeming to be strong in a crisis, even though there is only one thing he can realistically do to help, and pigs will sprout wings and turn into stealth fighter planes before that happens. Yes, he could, theoretically speaking, loosen the purse strings and (gulp) release money to the victims of the bushfires. He could, just for argument’s sake, offer some sort of realistic financial relief for all those affected.
But if you think that’s going to happen then chances are you’ve forgotten that ScoMo is a Liberal Prime Minister. Liberals make Shylock seem like a spendthrift. The only thing more sacred to ScoMo than his god and cricket is the almighty shekel.
You might as well ask him to dig up the grave of his long-dead great grandmother and suck on her bones before he’ll agree to hand over so much as a five-cent coin from the national coffers.
However, we might be unfairly characterising ScoMo as niggardly when in fact he’s just as generous as the next big-hearted Aussie. For instance, when he visited the smudge-faced bushfire victims from a relief centre he took with him a bag of groceries from Woolworths.
Can you imagine that? Now, obviously, he probably had the cost of those groceries refunded to him from petty cash, but it’s the gesture that counts. Come to think of it, he might have used food vouchers, but hey! It’s still a beaut gesture! In fact, it has led us here at NAB to speculate as to what the contents of that grocery bag might have been. What would the PM reckon someone in a bushfire crisis who is just some low-income earner with a net worth of a rusty tin wish for in a bag of provisions from Woollies?
Now, we need to use a bit of deductive reasoning here. Obviously, ScoMo would shop primarily for himself, since as it happens, he ended up taking the bag of groceries home. He couldn’t help it if those ingrates with their smudged faces and smoke-reddened eyes wished to make a political issue out of his arrival instead of greeting him with adoration and sycophantic gushing.
So, in terms of peasant food that would be acceptable to ScoMo, and given that he’s a bit long in the waistband, we reckon he might’ve gone for some choccies. Yeah, something sweet, but affordable: something in the Woollies’ own brand category most likely; such as its 200g Milk Chocolate block. Added to the fact that ScoMo is a bit tone-deaf as to general appropriateness, something that would doubtless melt in about six seconds would surely be what he’d choose.
Next up, he would probably buy some breakfast cereal but forget the milk. Knowing ScoMo he’d go for the Nutra Grain, or the nearest home brand approximate, because as Tony Greig used to say in that ad, ‘It looks like a tiny cricket bat only with holes in it’. Yeah, that’d be ScoMo for sure.
But it can’t be all sweets and fun brekky foodstuffs, you’ve got to have some nutrition too, which is why ScoMo would have gone a pack of home brand party pies. Yeah, steer away from the expensive stuff because the battlers must learn thrift. They cannot get used to luxuries like, say, Big Ben pies because then they’d only develop tastes they could not maintain. Yep, save the silver spoons for them what are high born. Anyway, them pies are yummy.
ScoMo is not without a sense of humour, either, which is why we reckon he included a packet of cheapo marshmallows in the bag so that the lucky recipient could toast them in the burning bush. Ho ho ho. Must keep your laughing gear in good order if you are to come through this thing intact and whole, after all, the sooner they’re all better, the sooner they can start paying taxes again. They need to if they want to cover the cost of the groceries.
Now, normally in this situation, anybody would immediately reckon a bottle of spring water to be imperative for anyone who’d gone through the heat of a bush blaze, but not ScoMo; he still keeps alive the big kid inside of him, which is why he’d go the no-frills passion pop drink. It was always his favourite, which is why we reckon he unscrewed the cap and took a sly sip without leaving backwash. Wouldn’t you?
Dunny paper would be something else a human in distress might need if they’re shut off from supplies and danger is licking at them in the form of scorching flames, but ScoMo has his own supply, so instead he picked up a cheap can of deodorant spray because he knew these folks wouldn’t have bathed. It’s not necessarily an uncharitable thing to ask someone to spray a bit of bouquet on themselves before greeting the PM; he’s only human after all, and body odour makes him dry wretch.
A loaf of bread is a given, and ScoMo would not have forgotten to pack an inexpensive loaf of nutritious white bread in the bag, along with a jar of his favourite no brand peanut butter (soft).
But what we can guarantee most of all is that as he was driving away from Woolworths, he started kicking himself for not going to Aldi instead.