Think Cathy The Tool Will Win Herbert? Seems The Labor Hierarchy Don’t.

The latest list out from the faceless men doesn’t have Herbert on the can-do list. Check the seats they think they can win from the coalition.

Everybody is all for the CBD stadium, so the Astonisher screeches … so why have an expensive forum to convince people to back it?

The Greens get themselves confused with the Shooters Party, while Sarah Hanson-Young raises serious questions about her sanity. No matter, The ‘Pie has a message of love and encouragement for our Kirstie Alley lookalike.

And you guys had better watch out for Bentley.

But first.

We lost a good one this very afternoon … Muhammad Ali has left us, at the age of 74.

His family were by his bedside when he died in hospital in Phoenix, Arizona, after being admitted with respiratory problems. He had suffered Parkinsons for decades, believed to be the result of his time in the ring. There will deservedly be many retrospectives, quotes and biographies of this great man who was much more than just a boxer. But a personal reminiscence came to me on hearing the news.

He instantly won over a young and doubting Magpie with what must be one of the most elegant and eloquent summations of an ailing America of the mid 20^th century. Asked why he refused the draft and fight in Vietnam, Ali – born Cassius Marcellus Clay – no doubt flanked by beefy-faced, cigar chewing and Stetson wearing southern lawmen quietly but defiantly said ‘I ain’t got no quarrel with the Viet Cong. They never called me nigger, they never lynched me, they never set the dogs on me.’ This quote has never been verified, but Ali never repudiated it, and its message was compelling when linked to this great athlete.

Vale Ali, as an inspiration in today’s drug addled world of spoiled sporting brats and cheats, your example will long stand as an ideal … and you may rest well knowing that partly because of you, fewer and fewer people are being called nigger anymore.

Other matters.

Listen Up, Guys …

The pointless puffery of the week must surely have been all that flapdoodle about the general group greeting of ‘guys’, and how it was eating away at the fabric of our society as we know it.

It all started when Aussie of the Year the mysteriously chosen ex-army boss David Morrison decided he was sending ‘guys’ to the naughty words stockade indefinitely because he felt it was not gender neutral enough. Instant howls started from the twitterati twits who had been quietly grinding this axe waiting for the opportunity, bemoaning particularly counter Johnnies(and Johnettes) and waitresses (yes, bloody waitresses, not waitpersons) using this low rent black American argot in its modern gender-neutral way as a catch-all greeting and group address. (This all completely ignored that a valid definition of guy as the verb ‘to make fun of; ridicule’.) Bentley for one thinks it will lift the general usage of language by those ring-pierced, gun chewing folks who look after us in local nosebaggeries.

All this offers The ‘Pie a weak segue into a favourite true story of a journo-jokster mate’s visit to an Elizabeth Street, Sydney hasty tasty. This was way back, in the days when typewriters and carbon paper were widely used to bash out café menus. The café bill of fare (a ‘personu’, perhaps, for the gals?) featured a dish described as ‘pissholes and gravy’. Our man pointedly ordered exactly that from his waitress, who blushed and said that the ‘p’ was wrong, it was meant to be an ‘r’.

“Rightio then, luv, in that case, I’ll have the plate of arseholes, thanks.’

An Unauthorised Menu Inclusion

The Dingbat Award of The Week goes to those hanky wringers who were outraged that a gorilla was shot dead when robustly playing with a small child who had dropped itself into his enclosure at an American zoo. It was neatly plugged when it looked like the little chubby cheeks might end up as a burp and ape poo. This whole outrage was best summed up by one commenter who wrote “I’m surprised to even have to write this, but a human life IS worth more than a gorilla’s.’

The perverse Pickering gave us his unique take on the whole thing.

Speaking of Shooting Things … How About The Greens?

The Greens of all people … and even more ironic, one from Martin Bryant’s Tasmania … wants snipers called in to get blow away dogs that get too close to penguin colonies.

This campaign side show came from Senator Peter Whish-Wilson, to lived up to the fact that he sounds like he trying to say his name the morning after a hard night on the turps.

Indeed, it’s been an interesting week for the Greens.

Leader Richard Di Natale announced that prisoners should be allowed to vote (Martin Bryant will doubtlessly put his X next to Whisho’s name), Greens candidate, and fireman Jim Casey wants to double the number of fireys ‘to combat global warming’.

And the blustering and – of late-ever billowing – Sarah Hanson-Young not only cocked-up party policy on super, but also suggested that Australians should learn to speak ‘Arabic to create harmony’ and accept them into our culture. Clearly she was off her meds, since the whole idea is that this exclusionary group are the ones that need to learn English and adopt – as far as possible – the Australian way of life.

However, anything is worth a try, so The ‘Pie took up her suggestion and is having a crack at arabic. Bit hard to write, but here’s The ‘Pie’s first effort, a suitable message for Ms Hanson-Young.

YIKES! Simpo Redux?

Oh, no, don’t let it be true. From Monday’s Astonisher

Perhaps just a suitable career move to broaden his skills with the Aurakun Daily Nulla Nulla.

Cleverwoman?

It’s time for that rarest of occasions, for The ‘Pie to eat his words and beg a humble apology.

For some time now, the old bird has persisted in making unwarranted fun of head of the Dudley Do Nothings … err, sorry, that should be Townsville Enterprise Limited … Patricia O’Callaghan. The ‘Pie has wilfully failed to see the subtle genius of choppering around with a cardboard cut-out of Prince Harry (the prince was so dense that he probably misinterpreted the masterstroke, took fright and crossed Townsville of his visiting list)… and her referring to Brownsville while talking up the ‘Ville, et al.

But today it is revealed that our cut-price poppet of a CEO is worth every penny the ratepayers grumble about paying her. Compensating for a distinct disability with numbers at the Daily Astonisher, Ms O’Callaghan has ‘exclusively revealed’ today that the governments at both levels are … wait for it … $50 million short of the necessary to build the proposed CBD stadium!! Quoth she in today’s Astonisher: ‘…the fact is that $100 million is simply not enough. We’re calling on the state government to increase its contribution by at least $50 million to ensure this project gets off the ground.’

Well, doesn’t that make The Magpie look like a mug for that slinging off about our own Cleverwoman. Working late into the night, brow furrowed and pencil in claw, The ‘Pie discovered that

1. a) Anna Palaszczuk last year pledged $100m for the project, and …
2. b) Bill Shorten earlier this year promised $100 million
3. c) The proposed stadium (alone) will cost $250 million.

It took the old bird some further time to realize that … would you believe … we are – yes, we are – $50 million short of realizing Lozza Lancini’s dream of tripling the value of his CBD properties. But Patricia O’C worked it out in a trice, with no help from Lozza or anyone else. Now there’s leadership for you, a razor sharp talent forged in the searing red-hot creative cauldron of Mount Isa promotion and marketing (and how is that going, by the way?).

ABC, you can keep your Cleverman, we’ve got our own Cleverwoman … although in both instances, you can be assured of some hairy times ahead.

Question Of The Week

You can almost smell the desperation.

With the campaign clock ticking, stadium proponents are reaching screech level with their desperate attempts to convince a recalcitrant majority that a CBD stadium is what we need at this moment. To that end, a forum was held last Tuesday night featuring a couple of blow-in (and totally irrelevant) speakers from Adelaide and (for God’s sake!) New Zealand to sell the idea.

But this is the question : If, as the Bulletin likes to tediously tell us, everyone wants the stadium, then why was it so necessary to hold this forum at all?

Comparisons with Adelaide and Dunedin (bloody Dunedin!?!?) bear no relevance to Townsville, and a rowdy crowd let its opposition be known. And fair dos to the Bulletin, they did at least give the dissenters a good run, but nothing like the opposite bias, under the somewhat ambiguous headline ‘Stadium Is A No Brainer’. Read that how you like.

In a rare rush of common sense, Mayor Mullet, the three local Labor stooges and Ewen The Town Cryer Jones were nowhere to be seen. Cathy The Tool was there, but declined to brandish her favorite demonstrators sign ‘Let Them Stay’.

Seems it didn’t apply in this case.

Here’s a paraphrased tip for stadium-pushers, down the ages from Samuel Butler.

‘Those who are persuaded against their will,

Will hold the same opinion still.’

A Footnote To That

The Astonisher has a well known problem with numbers (and not just when counting their readership). Now we can add geography to that, with no less that iditor Ben ‘Bogan’ English displaying the paper’s casual approach to, and fleeting acquaintance with, facts.

This from Wednesday’s iditorial.

Err, mate, Dunedin is  New Zealand’s 7TH largest city. It is the second largest on the South Island.

Now let’s face it, when a loose cannon junior reporter – basically that’s anyone other than Ando,  Raggers, and Taggers   – makes a howler, we laugh, sigh and move on. But when the editor himself, ‘the leader by example’ , pens in what is supposed be a showcase of the paper’s beating heart of professionalism, a blunder on basic geography in a desperate eagerness to press home a false syllogism, means they can stop wondering why no one … and that is NO ONE … trusts this stumblebum publication anymore.

Is Cathy The Tool Out Of Favor With The Backroom Boys?

Despite the blathering of the Astonisher about the end of the Jones boy in a few weeks, a different view has emerged from ALP HQ.

18 seats have been named Australia-wide that Labor reckons they can win back. Look carefully at the list from the story in SMH.

Seats in danger

The 12 seats considered most at-risk for the Liberals are Barton and Dobell (both notionally Labor after a redistribution), Lindsay, Robertson, Eden-Monaro and Macarthur in NSW; Dunkley and La Trobe in Victoria; Petrie and Capricornia in Queensland; Lyons in Tasmania and Solomon in the Northern Territory.

The eight extra seats Labor points to are Hasluck and the new seat of Burt in WA; Hindmarsh in SA; Banks, Paterson (now notionally Labor) and Page in NSW, Braddon in Tasmania and Bonner in Queensland.

No Herbert. Oh dear. Or on the other hand, maybe they think The Tool has it sewn up?

Losing An Arm Is A Two Stroke Penalty

While crocodiles are in the news again in these parts (question: what possesses anyone to go walking in remote waist deep water in North Queensland … and at night?) it is more their cousins the alligator making eye-popping news in Florida.

This story and amateur video looks sorta genuine, even if the source is the Daily Mail. And if so, it has done for golfing in Florida what Geoffrey Dahmer did for door-to-door salesmen in Wisconsin.

And across in Texas, authorities removed another gator that had a predilection for chasing joggers through a suburban neighbourhood.

Some joggers complained about the removal, saying it contributed to their fitness far more than any personal trainer. In response, authorities said – no doubt in a John Wayne drawl – ‘We try to improve service where we can … we are proud to announce our new Cheetah-based jogging program.’

That’s this week’s burnt offering. Any assistance with a donation to keep the nest firmly wedged up in its all-seeing eyrie will be greatly appreciated as the new financial year approaches. The how to donate button is below. Thanks.