Wanker: The Kevin Rudd Story. Part one
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In the first of five-part serialisation from his soon to be published autobiography Wanker: The Kevin Rudd Story (as told to Walter Slurry), Kevin Rudd recalls the first days of his new Government. King Kevin In preparedness, detailed plans for government had been drawn up. Perhaps one should have consulted them first. My office was initially staffed by poppets, West Wing impersonators and baby-faced supplicants who slept occasionally. Over this past year, some have proved incapable of keeping pace with the kingpin and they’ve been replaced with other 20-something addendums to the entourage. Selecting my ministry became a sole preserve. Can I just set the record straight here — promoting friends to key portfolios was out of the question. I don’t have any friends. For reasons beyond my insight, Julia Gillard wanted Education, Industrial Relations and Social Inclusion. She gets a bit too much “social inclusion” if you ask me. In spite of those lizard-like eyes and metamorphosing hair display, I am heavily reliant on Julia. I call her daily, sometimes hourly, other times we communicate via Skype on a streaming basis. I love her and need her so, but yet paradoxically I hate her awfully and surreptitiously thwart her every ambition. Cate says it’s just like her and Matt Damon in The Talented Mr Ripley. I wish I had the gizzuts to make a decision sans Julia. Maybe next term. Wayne Swan is my Treasurer. Can I say this about Wayne, I believe working families appreciate his reassuring manner and growing economic credentials, especially in these uncertain economic times. By all accounts (except mine) he’s talented and highly capable. Of course, the first year was a complete disaster for Wayne; Jesus, those first few weeks at the dispatch box was like watching an episode of The Office. I cringed so much I had an osteopath booked for the end of Question Time. Lindsay Tanner was promised Finance — anything to keep him away from all those mentoring and feel good policy agendas. Frankly they give me the sh-ts. I have never understood socialist ideology and all that post-modern preventative interventionist bunkum. Sounds like he is trying to walk both sides of the street. Ditto for Nicola Roxon in Health. Surprisingly she excels here, with her endless advisory bodies and taskforces and shampooing and conditioning. Our relationship, however, remains oily and full of frisures and I know a bouncy and full bodied friendship won’t happen overnight. Simon Crean was rewarded with Trade. Some say he’s a decent, sincere and well respected bloke. Luckily, I’m not some. I can’t have a demoted skipper hanging around like something Albo lets loose at the Dispatch Box. I’ll force him out before the next election. For Stephen Smith I bestow my beloved portfolio of Foreign Affairs. He is provided with some sage advice: “Keep it safe and warm, feed it regularly, and if you ever take it out for a walk, you’ll be killed”. So far, so good. Chris Evans is leader in the senate and has Immigration. Not sure about this dour West Australian. He was once overheard telling an adviser I was “prickly”, or perhaps he said I was “a prick”; either way, he needs to watch his back. Kim Carr was likewise furnished with rich booty for support over that lug Beazley. Carr, like some Etruscan terra cotta pottery come to life, creates Richter Scale tremors in my lower intestinal valleys. Regardless, what damage can a rabid left wing reformist do to our industry agenda? Speaking of things rabid and left, Anthony Albanese is Leader of the House and handed the enormous responsibilities of Transport, Infrastructure and Local Government. One trusts the weight of responsibility will crush him to bits. Albo is not popular with the public at large, or anyone who has actually met him in person, but just as Howard had Abbott, so I one must accommodate Albanese. Jenny Macklin deserved something of substance given her many years of service. Jenny has many fine attributes, such as a wonderful singing voice. Shame she can’t talk in tune. Nevertheless, disadvantaged groups and the Aboriginal people of Australia will find tremendous empathy with a middle class frump from Melbourne. In parliament, my ministry is expounded upon:
Of course, with 20/20 hindsight, one can admit they may not have got their first ministry right. Look, in this game you get some things right and sometimes you get things wrong, the Australian people know that. They’ve seen Charlotte Grey, they know some things don’t work no matter how well intentioned the motivation is. So if your point is, ‘have some of my parliamentary secretaries made a mockery of my appointments by out performing certain ministers’, then let me tell you this: I stand by each and every member of my team, and casting doubt on the abilities of ministers like Justine Elliot, Steven Conroy or Kate Ellis is just not on. (memo: organise a reshuffle for mid early 2009). Kick arse Kevin 5.00 am on day one as PM. My brain vessel unfurls like a great beast awakening from a slumber. Last night chaotic — the eve of government creates tremendous urgency; Ministers lectured to, media interviews locked in, meetings scheduled, un-scheduled, re-scheduled, de-scheduled, by-scheduled then the entire process reversed; people phoned, advisers emails, stools inspected, diary secretary’s fired. A routine which is still in place unfolds: 5.01 am phone call to Gillard to discuss my plans, my policies, my dreams. Then 5.30 teleconference with my new poppets. Umpteen child soldiers ready for battle, I confront the Australian people like an ill-equipped general ready for the fray. Sadly over this past year many of my staff fell like the bumbling pudding brain knuckleheads I always suspected they were. I review my agenda:
First things first. In the Lodge, I draft an apology speech, a free flowing monologue straight from my heart.
In parliament, I deliver a now revised redraft flawlessly, reaching out to Dr Nelson in a manner reminiscent of Cate Blanchett when she finds her lost boy in The Missing. Jesus, was that ever a powerful scene. The apology unfurls waves of mass gratitude and poetic platitudes, my speech is news the world over. Afterwards, people cry and hug me, they fall before me, blessing my sentiments, my sincerity, my statesmanship. Elders offer me bounty and I’m certain they call me ‘bwana’. I become aroused. Dr Nelson kindly slips me a prescription. Can I also just say that it was Kevy from Queensland who stepped up to the international plate, unlike Howard, and ratified Kyoto. By close of Week One, to put this in language I am sure the young folk of Australia will identify with, I was totally f-cking sick. I was on fire. Imagine the opinion polls — high 50s, early 670s even. I call Gillard excitedly… Tomorrow: Wanker continues |
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12 Comments
Disappointments abound -CRIKEY - you are the biggest disappointment here.
I believe in supporting Independent Media - disappointingly time and again - you prove you’re just wanking in public at the public’s expense.
Was that the winner of the ” attempt at humour award but failed “? Pathetic waste of space that I pay for.
Oh come on people, are you really suggesting Rudds so pearly white so as to provide no basis for satire? Particularly like the apology. A great moment in history and certainly overdue… but where to from here? Keep them coming Walter.
Good to know Mr Jones opinion is the rule humour should be judged by, I will remember to always use him as a reference before I smile or frown.
In this case you are the biggest f……..g wanker. A decent satirist at least manages to wait for the first major cock up.
the thing is Cathy, you don’t want an entirely normal bloke as PM, of course he is a freak.
Very deft. A little long? Several laugh out louds.
“Can I just say” got the tone nicely. Quite. Insiders via Bolt echoed the point last Sunday regarding Socratic method … “with himself”.
Some other nice work. About 1/3 in I thought - is this John Clarke? Or Brian Dawe moonlighting?
Ruddy is well liable to some satire, no risk. For this reason if you need any for a leading politician - he does have the ruthless aspect. How else did he get there. Anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t really know politics as practised today. Unfortunately.
And satire of course is often cruel. That’s why it’s dangerous.
I’d like a refund for today’s edition please.
Not because this about as funny as the ‘mongrel named trig’ joke, but for the fact you used the word wanker and hence my mail server would not let it come through.
nice work knobjockey
I can hear Kev in this. Having been around the robot for odd moments the clipped, tight-lipped lingo punctuated by sort of in-head chats lightened for media grabs with terms such as parents, children etc translated into mums, dads, kiddies and working families. He’s a spin-king for the masses and an intensely boring individual in his own environment. After he’s delivered a diatribe of detailed information in machine-gun fashion you peel yourself off the wall to jot shorthand notes on the core of his ‘conversation’. Kev needs a bit of time-word-thought management so he can give everyone round him some shut eye.
Yeah, not much material to work with.
Nice. Very nice indeed. Just the paragraph on Julia was worth today’s subscription. The recurring Cate delightful.
And never mind the wallies below - they haven’t a clue what it’s about.
If only the real Kevin Rudd spoke like this is written. I don’t like John Howard, but at least he had an interesting sounding voice.