Tony Abbott and Bill Glasson

“Ooh hoo Tony. I don’t know that I should.”

So despite the vast expenditure, the signs on every Belle Property regardless of owner or tenant approval, the announcement by the Brisbane City Council that it would not enforce its own electoral signage by laws, the voters grimly went out and voted exactly the same way they did last time.

You can count the people who changed their vote.

  • A handful of extra votes for the Secular Party.
  • A couple of hundred extra for the little Green man.
  • Half of Palmer’s three thousand facebook friends went to the Pirate Party and the others sprinkled themselves across the micro parties generally. They do not like politicians.

The only significant move at all is the thousand fans of one K Rudd deserted the ALP and voted for Abbott instead. These are the people for whom Rudd lurched to the right, damning international refugees to prison islands as the international cartel running the penal colony of Australia has always done.

Think Port Arthur, think Norfolk, think Palm Island. Think of the prisoners chained to the fort just off Sydney Cove. If you don’t line up for your loaf of bread and bucket of rum we will whip you. If you will not submit to the whip then we will chain you to a rock in the middle of the sea and laugh at you rotting in the high tide, while we have our Sunday sandwiches.

It is the Australian way.

So after all of that, we have a Labor representative in Griffith.

Well we would if Glasson would concede, but there could be a surprise in the postal votes and we won’t give up until they are all opened. We learned that from George Dubya didn’t we? Don’t give up until you have exhausted every challenge, tried every trick and cooked every book that can be cooked.

Glasson, you told us you are an honourable man and not a creature of the party. Concede. Go back to the family, back to the practice, back to helping your patients see.

Or have you been poisoned in the process?

Did the intervention get under your skin?

Did the power of riding into town on a jeep with the army behind you as the medical arm of the liberator go to your head?

Get out now while you still have your dignity, your humanity.

Go and rewatch the Boy in the Striped Pyjamas and decide what sacrifice you are prepared to make.

And if you haven’t already, read Damien Smith’s plea for liberty and ponder the chilling parallels between the journey of Europeans in the nineteen thirties and Australia now.

And dear reader, if your name is not Bill Glasson, if you are one of the 50,000 who voted for the progressive cause on Saturday, gird your loins and clear the decks. When you read Damien Smith’s plea for liberty, think about how you will participate in the coming fight to restore humanity to Australian politics before we start disappearing.

It is going to be a long time between elections.