Game/s On?

Lately, writers for the big dailies have been commenting and tweeting and occasionally filing copy which details the increasingly thin photo ops our leaders are conducting. The idea is that, when in Canberra for Question time, Abbott and Gillard will head to Queenbeyan (a short drive but a world away from the alienating visual of Canberra’s manicured streets) and end up in hi-vis, sprouting inanity.

Abbott has taken the biscuit, and the doily and the plate in recent days. On Tuesday he was infront of a roller door, stating that the carbon tax will 'bring down the door' on Australia and the future and babies and puppies. This came after the photo op on Monday where he awkwardly shoveled sand into a mixer and said something like 'the carbon tax will shovel the fuck out of the faces and heads of the elderly and kittens and baby seals'. Or something.

Via Fairfax

I look forward to the following, future photo ops.

Abbott in Fyshwick, setting off an illegal firework and saying- 'well, ah, the bang and fizz has gone right out of this government'

Abbott standing next to a homeless chap- 'well, ah, you might say that if the government keeps going the way its going, Julia Gillard might be in the market for a new home'

Abbott in Fyshwick, standing outside Adam & Eve (purveyors of quality marital aids)- well, ah, far from being immaculate-ly, ah, conceived, you might say that this government is, ah, fucked

What's amazing is that he, and the party, and its Labor counterparts, think this 101 mindlessness works. What's more amazing is that it does- either that, or the populace are so disengaged, so bored by this and the wider tone of debate, that these inexcusably banal events continue because the care factor is low. Whatever.

People do seem to care about Kevin though.

What a busy week he's had. And what interesting editorials we read in the weekend papers. Peter Hartcher's interview and assessment made it difficult to digest the breakfast brioche, filed with Rudd's carefully timed and properly weighted mea's culpa. Lenore Taylor put things into a calmer perspective. Jack Waterford still thinks we'll all be rooned. And I suspect the Australian called Julia a bitch, Bob Brown a dangerous commie poof terrorist and Abbott a man of great decency and wit and wisdom. Denis Shanahan is outstanding at bringing the lols. But I prefer my comedy to vaguely resemble reality- the punch-line carries more power that way.

What Rudd is doing well however, is PR. And this government is proving to be shockingly bad at PR. 

Roxon has crashed this week, seeking cash from Big Tobacco and thus making her shrill schoolmarm chamber persona loose whatever gravitas it hinted at.  Ludwig remains besieged thanks to inaction and a confusing lack of job awareness in the face of live exports. Bowen remains between his rock and the hard place (Malaysia), quoting Monty Python’s dark knight. Shorten is invisible, Swan remains the worst communicator to have held the Treasurers arm-band since Ralph Willis (meaning that Swanny can expect a Queens Birthday gong in 20 years, but little else beforehand), Combet has his hand forced by a rogue ad agency and had to announce the fact the government will shortly be announcing an ad campaign for a tax that doesn't exist yet, making momentary foes of Windsor and Oakeshott and making his first big error in the big game. And Gillard? Well. Where to start with a problem like Julia.

Way back when, a year or so ago, I wrote my last political post full of hope for Julia’s reign. And like many, I’m confused. It’s not just that she’s performed poorly, been unable to catch the public eye and project her more winning qualities. It’s the nature of the mistakes that confuse. The simple errors. Skill errors we Brumbies fans call them, the stuff you learn in juniors, the second-nature moves that we expect to be in place when you’re paid the big bucks to do it for a living. Policy-wise, this Government is stained by a feeling of inadequacy and incompetence. But more critical in these times of hi-vis photo ops and manta repetition, it's the smear of panic that is shocking to watch. All the pre-annoucements. The garbled explanations. The putzed programs. And the feeling that they're perpetually behind the 8-ball. Which is kinda the opposite of leadership.

Looking back at last years election blog (which broke my best blogging intentions a little) is tough. The final post is a little embarrassing. What a naif I was. A shining wee naif, full of hope and sunshine. What arse. And what an extraordinarily nullifying, mortifying bunch of months it has been since.

The opposition have been getting free hits through the year. That they not only remain in the game but look increasingly solid is an extraordinary thing, given that whenever they’ve looked to do anything apart from comment on how shithouse the government is, they’ve fallen in a heap. Abbott is a figure of fun. Hockey a proverbial balloonful of hot air. And Malcolm- he stirs, he circles, but he needs the government to have a good week so that his leader might stop feeling quite so in control. His time will come, but Malcolm is known to be a little ... premature on this front. Still, he could lead. And I wonder how many Labor people, true believers, are secretly excited in the prospect. At least Malcolm wouldn't be primping for the stupid photo ops.