All politicians are ugly in a way that is deep and foul. It is a profoundly spiritual ugliness. Never are they more ugly than when overtaken by the delusion that they are performance artists. All politicians should leave their personalities at home.I would not wish to wound anybody, so if you are a politician stop reading now. This applies particularly to Madame Speaker and Christopher Pyne. All are ugly but Bronwyn takes the belt. Specially when she is smiling vivaciously under several pounds of make up. John Howard was smart enough to know that she was also an appalling imbecile, if you’ll pardon me, loathsome to both left and right. No votes in her.
Oh dear. What has released my nastiest impulses? What has liberated me from a usually strong sense of fair play? She cannot help being ugly One should not mention it. Why have I forgotten all my principles?
Perhaps because of her massive self righteousness and hypocrisy. Perhaps this armor can only be pierced by gross insults. But will my attack on her appearance strike home? No. Will she ever read this?. No. In any case I can’t help myself. Or don’t want to.
Once I found myself seated – on a middling small plane – beside a chap called Peter Jordan. This man need not detain you any further, except that while I looked idly out upon the tarmac he suddenly exclaimed, ‘Oh God no!’ We had not yet taken off and down the aisle, smiling ferociously, advanced the Dame Speaker with a small entourage. Her fierce smile ranged over everyone, including me. Like everyone else I looked down at the floor. ‘Don’t worry,’ I murmured to my neighbour, ‘I am going to pray that the plane crashes.’ So saying I lifted my hands, palm against palm, beneath my chin and assumed my most pious expression. Something told me that my sincerity had reached him. he looked decidedly worried. Nevertheless martyrdom was denied us, proving scientifically that there is no god.