All at Sea.

Shane w/ Mt Gambier stone

G'day Possums,

goodness, it's been a silent month….but as the pic testify's, work was afoot.

What started as "…let's replace the carpet," progressed to.... "Well, I could re-align that wall upstairs…take that door around the corner… and what if…..?

And, so it went:  new doors,  ditch architraves and re-introduce stone., necessitating a trip to Mt Gambier to purchase more….. and although Mt Gambier might not be the centre of the universe, their Sorrento Café could well be… excellent food, affable staff and good service .. it's more than a café.  Breakfast to dinner.

Lower a ceiling, and do an almost full re-paint….re-line new walls with limed ply and re-discover what the place was about when originally designed. 

Exciting… and debilitating in a dirty, dusty space.

There was a time when Shane Wombat got a little depressed throwing away so much photographic and drawing history (mostly repeated stuff)  and storing more, till he felt he had no existence or space to live in that he knew at all.

But eventually it was, bar some minor little bits, done!

 All of which meant that a break was necessary and with a significant anniversary due..  it was off to Apollo Bay for a couple of days to re-calibrate, celebrate, relax and where the images and the current political malaise seemed to coincide.

Selfie Absorption.

Acting as a simpering apologist for a failed would-be governing body, today Fiction's Frydenberg's whole speech at the National Press Club was, without him being aware of it, a damning critique of the so-called "free market" and an expose' of the ludicrousness of a fragmented privatised energy market over which any government has little control: particularly this incompetent and divided cabal of a ruling rabble.

In a pathetic attempt to blame all and sundry for the disintegrating power system other than their own ideological ineptitude in recognizing the future, he recalled the tired old shibboleths of …blame labor …. blame their carbon tax… even though it would still have traction economically.

Poor Fictions… it's hard to understand that he really, really  believes the bullshit he coughs up!

 

Detritus.

The Red Terror of the Deep North, Appalling Hanson, managed to depress her low standing even further by targeting the winning Indian air-pistol competitors at the Commonwealth Games and calling them  Muslims…. they were all Hindi… and then jibing along the lines of:  "No wonder they won, shooting is a lot of what they do…..", to cement her stupidity. 
The limited intelligence from Ipswich then decided that there had been too much indigenous activity in the opening ceremony, which was to her feeble understanding, "outrageous" and besides,  "I'm indigenous, too!" she flatulated.

 

Uneasy Lies the Head...

Great uncle Otto's boy, Vichy Abetz has joined a with few others of similarly limited imagination, Cap'n Catlic Andrews, Rabid-the-Hun, Barnyard Joyce and Craig, Crackers Kelly to form the frivolously called Monash Forum.

Geese and Scavengers

 Named after General Sir John Monash of WW1 fame and later a significant consolidator of disparate private electricity companies to create the successful and profitably large employer, the  State Electricity Commission of Victoria….........until ex-premier and fellow ruling rabble Neanderthal Bovver-Boy, Foot-in-Mouth Kennett privatised it and sold it to the Malaysian Government and buggered supply and distribution costs to all Victorians.

 

...nuff said!

Vichy obviously wasn't told either, that Monash was a Jew;  one of those his great Uncle Otto sent from France in 1944 to the Nazi gas-ovens; and Barnyard also doesn't ken that Monash created wealth for the state: not, as he has done with the Murray/Darling and the Pesticides Authority of Dept of Agriculture, destroyed things.

Rabid-the-Hun demonstrated his commitment to this pathetic cabal by organizing a bike ride circling back to the future, past a coal fired power station demonstrating C19th technology.

As for Cap'n Catlic and Crackers? Their unreported silence was appreciated by all.

 

Mrs Wombat and a pastiche of J. Bishop.

Barnyard, whilst waiting for his mistress' and his assumed progeny to be born attempted to appear relevant by firing blanks at the Prime Miniature for equalling  Rabid-the-Hun's record of losing 30 consecutive polls (… the ruling rabble's 60th, btw) and hypocritically calling on Truffles to be "honourable" and stand down if things hadn't improved by xmas.

It was not announced where he had found that word or whether he actually understood its meaning before it curdled in his mouth.

 

ruling rabble policy setting.

Truffles, sadly found some solace in his miserable poll results in that most of his ruling rabble fellow travellers didn't want another leadership spill and would seem to want to see him "in situ" till his next electoral evisceration or Madame Guillotine beckons… whichever comes first.

I'm hoping for the latter and have begun buying yarn.

Cheers Petals,

Shane.

and then there was Rachel B....and her indefatigable dog..... 

and the Otways... lovely place...

Changing narratives..or Not.

G’day Possums,

   

Shane the renovator

We've been busy playing renovator this week.

I'm remodelling the second bathroom and changing its configuration … a cavity sliding door has been fitted saving much space and providing an agreeably larger and less cluttered feel to the room…

So this week it’s really all about the chronicle of our country’s inexorable slide into fascism with Wombat Droppings

Rabid-the-Hun going overboard

Freshly assassinated prime miniature, Rabid-the-Hun has been as good with his word to current pm Malcon Turnbullfop as he was with the electorate. Coming out of hiding and the sulks, Rabid being a good IPA office boy, has been attempting to re-write history to suit his own peculiar view of the world by claiming with his three shock jock friends he has left, that it wasn’t that he was really “on-the-nose,” just misunderstood, and that because Turnbullfop hasn’t changed any of his policy disasters his culling was all because of a press beat-up, the Runes, the Masons and/or Communist plotting from Nth Korea.

Malcon Turnbullfop

Many in the country have had bouts of vomiting on hearing the really loopy “far right” extol Rabid’s copious serves of humanity, decency, morality and sheer brilliance as a national leader but quickly recover on also hearing that there have been mass defections from the liarbril party at his political knifing with some suggesting the orange life-boats be pressed into service again to take them to asylum in Indonesia.

The national euphoria on this malignant person’s demise has been palpable but the real sting in the tail is that Turnbullfop will not be allowed by the “right” to change much, so all it really is, is a case of new conductor, musicians changing chairs but the ensemble is scratching out the same dirge only smiling about it and saying how romantic it is.

Australians seem to have been fooled into thinking “things-are-better-now”…. when it’s really two minutes to midnight….. the following is a section of a piece by Victoria Rollinson from her blog and re-used in the “Australian Independent Media” pages.  

 “The right wing narrative is a scary story about a community I would never choose to live in. I was not brought up to blame the disadvantaged for their predicament. And nor will I bring up my child to think our societies’ problems are the fault of the vulnerable, the disabled, the sick, the mentally ill, the poor and the abused. The rejection of the Abbott government has, I hope, proved that the majority of Australians, like me, reject this story and don’t believe that life is a race. I hope so. But either way, next time someone says the Liberal government is missing a narrative, just remember the narrative is there. It’s just not a very nice story and they know this so they do their best to keep it hidden. Don’t let them get away with it. You know the story. Call it out whenever you see it.”  Victoria Rollinson

Hoo-roo, Petals,

Shane