Dear GingerZilla, What Can One Say About Maggie?


Saint Augustine of Hippo, a seminal thinker on...

Saint Augustine of Hippo, a seminal thinker on the concept of just war (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I no longer awake with that delicious sluggishness that seems to be the preserve of unhurried youth, but with a surprise that I awoke at all. Freudians pontificate that ciggies were a poor and unhealthy substitute for fellatio which is not unlike a more recent urban posit that the positioning of unbagged bananas in ones shopping trolly, if pointing up, was unspoken innuendo the trolly-pusher was available for a bit of fresh. This night, I awoke about normal, 2300 hours, to the sounds of mayhem, chaos and bedlam. It was the telly but I felt like a player in one of your site’s nightmares.

It could have been an example of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Generally I awaken keen to carry on with something or the other and found your cryptic comment on my message board. Had got the Thatcher news earlier and sent off a tweet to an outrageous gay Scot of my most vivid recollection of Thatcher’s rarely seen human side. On election evening between the polls closing and the count, she and a few office buddies, exhausted from weeks of campaigning, sat on upturned milk crates in an alley and swigged Scotch just as we pinko Labor nose-pickers might have done.

If Twitter is not another device of World Governments/Rio Tinto/Murdoch triumvirate in a 1984 conspiracy to hasten the zombie process of the population and not only its dissenters, then I’m a monkey’s uncle. Murdoch flagship The Australian not renown for caring an owl’s hoot about the dispossessed of Australian society unless it is politically expedient to do so, found a faux cause hoping to embarrass the Government. Their crocodile-teared hyperbole vilified all pensioners for being unable to pay power bills on time when in fact, their failure rate is probably no greater than the general community. Murdoch’s compliant arse-lickers were trying to implicate Gillard’s Government in the so-called plight of pensioners when in fact, they are in a trough of their own making.

As an example of how a latter-day Saint Augustine does it, I put to screen a heavily blanked bank statement showing only my direct pension deposit and monthly ADSL. Months before I had posted my first power bill since the introduction of the carbon-tax, showing well under $2 daily use and overall, $40 less than the usual. I was left with about $3300 per quarter after rent to play with and suggested wasters in youth don’t evolve into wise old sages. Both sides of the political fence soundly condemned me for having no sympathy for welfare recipients who feed the slots till they have to walk home. Tweets and blogs are ASIO monitored and being an oldie, the police threat to remove my liberty for criticizing the corrupt Bligh administration is not easily forgotten. I keep the cat in the bag.

Blindly joining one side is anathema to me as it is for you. Cunts think that if I’m anti A then I must be pro B and get nasty and hateful to discover I despise them all equally. The only approach, as far as I’m concerned, is the middle of the road Devil’s Advocate stance. Why I used the sex analogy in my preamble has well and truly eluded me and following it up would have been too difficult and too long, and I’m buggered and will close this. Cheers, Les Johns.

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