Passing Bull 36 – Defending your legacy


Tony Abbott says that he is entitled to defend the legacy of ‘his’ government.  So do his mates in the press.  What do they mean?

A legacy is a gift that you make in a will to take effect on your death.  Mr Abbott may be the only person in Australia who is yet to acknowledge that he is relevantly ‘dead’ – or even that his government is dead.

Well before the time when the Olympic Games were held in Melbourne, my late father told me to be careful about blowing my own trumpet.  That was good advice.  What else is Mr Abbott doing now but blowing his own trumpet?  Well, he may be attempting to do a number of other things, but none of those things does him any credit, or does any good for the political party that he is supposed to serve.

Of course Mr Abbott is free to blow his own trumpet – just as he is free to say that climate change is crap or that he will not let his religious beliefs interfere with his politics.  He is perfectly entitled to talk bullshit as much as he likes.  But not on my time, or while he is on my payroll.

One of the reasons that the parliamentary colleagues of Mr Abbott sacked him was that he talks bullshit all the time, and that he does not realise it.  That is still the case.  Even the other day, he was still talking about ‘stopping the boats’.  That was bullshit too – he hasn’t yet revealed to us what we should do with the people who were on the boats that we stopped.  It’s not the boats that worry us – it’s the people on them.  This was just one of his mantras.

The verdict of his party is in, and we already knew that Mr Abbott cannot face reality, and that he would not accept the decision of the umpire, his party.  So, the next time you meet a galah that has been fired, ask them what they are doing to protect their legacy.  The answer could be quite a hoot.

Poet of the month: Judith Wright


The will to power destroys the power to will.

The weapon made, we cannot help but use it;

it drags us with its own momentum still.


The power to kill compounds the need to kill.

Grown out of hand, the heart cannot refuse it;

the will to power undoes the power to will.


Though as we strike we cry ‘I did not choose it’,

it drags us with its own momentum still.

In the one stroke we win the world and lose it.

The will to power destroys the power to will.

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