Chapter 07, verses 23-28
Though I speak with the tongues of Australian working families and of fair-minded citizens everywhere, and have not votes, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of media campaigns whose cost runneth into many millions, and staggereth all belief and understanding, and bewildereth the mind; and though I can remove the Work Choice legislation, and have not a 9% swing on Saturday, I am nothing.
And though the blessed Therese hocketh her business and giveth every impression of being a member of The Brady Bunch and though I speak Chinese, and though I come from Queensland, and pick up not 16 seats by close of play, it profiteth me nothing.
The electorate beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. When I was made leader of the lost tribe called Labor, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I hit the front in the polls, I put away childish things. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is votes.
Rise up therefore, on the morrow, yea even at the crack of dawn, and pause ye only to have a quick breakfast; but get ye thence to the booth that is for polling, quoting thy name and address and obtaineth ye the ballot paper and the pencil provided. Sequester ye then in the small three-walled house of cardboard and make ye thy difference. Smite ye not thine enemies with swords, nor covet their ass. But remove ye them from office and their stain and their progeny and all of their kind. And giveth thee thy vote to me.
(Thou mayest vote Green in thy Senate if thee must, but tampereth not with the task at hand in the lower house).
On the Sabbath shalt thou rest. With any luck thou shalt need to.