5.00 am. I text Gillard informing her slumber time has ceased, then staff teleconference to review the reception of another encyclical — the Rudducation Revolution. Advisers hail me as trendsetter, splendiferous, the kingpin, a classroom czar.
Mention of czars brings to mind Vladimir Putin. Now there’s a leader who won’t hesitate to whisk his shirt off or dip his rod into running waters; or hunt down and tranquilize a dangerous tiger. My utterances over ‘root and branch reform of the system’ appear second tier by comparison.
Do I covet Putin’s moxie? Is he a man to be admired for his strong centralist direction? Am I concerned by his inspirational photo opportunities? Discussion loses focus over where best to feature me topless trying to anesthetize a wild animal — Western Plains Zoo or Anthony Albanese’s place?
Well, if you go to the forecasts on my education revolution, I’m prepared to have an argument with the states if that’s the go because I think tough decisions are necessary for the long term future of this nation of ours, Australia. And if there’s some argy bargy, you know, fair suck of the sauce bottle, well so be it. That’s the rough and tumble of this game.
How do I provide greater rewards and incentives for our best teachers to stay in the system. How do I provide more incentives and rewards for our best university graduates to go into teaching? And how do I make sure that our schools are properly reporting to parents and to students and to the wider community about how they are going? Good questions I’m sure you’ll agree, questions I pondered over a late night screening of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
You know something? Unions and teachers are entitled to their views, however fetid they may be. We live in a democracy here is this great country of ours, Australia — that’s the difference between us and Russia. Working people, Australian families doing it tough, they’re entitled to express their views. Well, some criticism of me is possible. Let’s face it folks, anything can happen in this world of ours. Didn’t Russell Crowe win an Academy Award for Gladiator?
Well look, I hope good sense prevails with all of this because what I am saying is, I’m prepared to fight with the education unions and sell uranium to Russia provided they both meet international safeguards. That’s why I have Kelvin Thompson’s committee out there investigating this issues. But what’s with putting an “l” in Kevin, you ask? Honestly, I don’t know. One could speculate it stands for something, lummox perhaps; however the fact remains he’s on a committee.
Question Time is dominated by interest rates, employment and the economy. Let me say this about those opposite. Cretins all, I think, as I slouch over the dispatch box in a style reminiscent of Nicholas I. Swan tries hard but to me he’s still a steam packet; an anti-climax to the great orator. Even against a collective of dung beetles, Swan flummoxes.
The Australian people are not fooled by cheap stunts. I am, of course, referring to the good Doctor Nelson. Let me tell you this folks, spending 12 hours in a semi-trailer with a truckie is just a transparent stunt. I ponder this as I drive my Toyota Prius up and down the driveway of the Lodge.
Sitting week marred by senate shenanigans. Senator Fierravanti-Wells, an organically certified clodpole, questions my integrity. I question her DNA. Senator Steve Fielding proves his credentials as a man who’s wife is to be reckoned with. Xenophon. Please explain? Honestly, I’d rather negotiate with cankers, something I am particularly familiar with. Chris Evans needs to take control of these rapscallions and dullards — he speaks their language, he knows their culture.
Could the Senate be politically damaging? Could those Green pillocks derail my national building rhetoric? Anything’s possible I agree. Didn’t Russel Crowe attempt to sing in a rock band?
Week ends with another late night. Dinner with the corporates; meeting to canvass media coverage; a midnight call to Putin to tell him about my day; then a thorough examination of my briefs before viewing Elizabeth: The Golden Age. Asleep in the Lodge by 4.59am.
Next week: Peter Garrett watches helplessly while the bed he made for himself is burning, Justine Elliott visits a retirement village and decides to stay, while Kate Ellis’ proposal to bid for the 2016 European Cup isn’t as popular as she thinks. Over the road, Malcolm Turnbull buys a feral abacus while Julie Bishop hunts and kills a moose.