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#Auspol Winners and Losers: Malcolm in the middle (of the end)

The celestial evolution of hate, a fool representing another and Malcolm Roberts’ best barnacle impersonation. #Auspol, you’re not good for me. But I like the way you make me feel.



As I tally off the days left of my sentence with a sharpened toothbrush into my cellmate’s back, I notice a pattern. One Nation. As the chalk souffle falls in on itself, and the music swells to an orchestral note usually only heard when a peasant village is butchered in Hollywood, it would be easy to devote an entire piece panning their innate ability to make a bad situation worse (plus we did that last week), however, that just lets everyone else off the hook, and there’s plenty of snark to go around. So consider this week’s Winners and Losers a One Nation free zone.


Come on, it might be Malcolm Roberts’ last week. We won’t know what we’ve got ’til it’s gone.

Paved paradise, put up a parking lot.




One Nation – for singlehandedly reviving the Australian film industry.

Experts and semillion sufferers alike agree that the thing that makes grand art grand is the amount of new ground you can discover upon repeated viewings. Like Pablo Picasso’s Guernica mural or the Last Days of the Aztecs from Where’s Wally Now. However, if you own either of those masterpieces, you might as well reach for the nearest box cutter and ruin Waldo’s face, as they have been surpassed.


There’s a lot to unpack here. Not only does the film look like it was cut by an opiate starved miscreant, they also tease, but crucially do not drop the main bars of the USSR national anthem, before closing with a handy informative squiggle to point out where they believe Michelle Guthrie should head to, and what cuisine she can expect when she arrives.

It’s spectacular. And if you don’t get it, that’s the point. It’s art.

You’re not supposed to.


The No Campaign/The Anglican Church – For revolutionising the evolutionary theory of skywriting.

Considering they ignore evolution, it’s ironic that they’re paying to enable it. Life finds a way. The marriage equality yell fest has had a rather unexpected effect on the medium of abusive skywriting. Almost a renaissance. What has been accepted as tolerable in the past has now been supplanted by the new works of steadier hands with looser morals.

Back on the 17th September, this appeared in the skies above Sydney. A childish sentiment, maybe. A childish font, absolutely. It looked dangerously close to an infant scrawling a swear on the drywall, not knowing what the word actually meant:



However, flash forward a month, and the evolutionary steps are plain to see. Great strides have been taken in pursuit of more legible hate. Yes, it’s comic sans, and yes, they wrote it backwards but they’re learning. I personally hope the Anglican Church drops another cool mil, just so we can see windings above us in the unfriendly skies.




Also on The Big Smoke




The legal team of Matt Canavan – for emulating the wrong lawyer.

The legal trope of the lawyer accusing the jury of being as guilty as their client, asking them to reflect on the nature of their own wrongdoing is akin to audience participation in theatre. Stop, no and don’t. However, such a stunt was attempted, in the Supreme Court, no less,  as Matt Canavan’s lawyer looked to free him from the Section 44 noose through less than usual methods.

Sadly, he came off more Lionel Hutz than Atticus Finch.


Hmmm I request a bad law thingy…


Liberal MP Anthony Roberts – for butchering a classic with his awful cover.

You know those cover bands you go to see who habituate leagues clubs and bowling greens, the ones that pretend to be notable rock gods and goddesses, who in actuality are chartered accountants during the week, but as soon as the weekend rolls around they don the wig and are Björn Again. I mean, you know that guy up there is not Benny Uvaleus, but you didn’t pay much Money Money Money, so you don’t mind that you can’t hear the drums properly, Fernando.

The House of Reps is the Auspol equivalent, evidenced this week by Liberal MP Anthony Roberts ripping a familiar chord by bringing a lump of coal into work.


Yeah, it’s like the great poetic performance of (Scott) Morrison but it’s not the same. I was there for the original perfomance, you know. Did I ever tell you about that time? Wow. You just had to be there, man.




Honourable mentions

The Golden Emerson – awarded to those who waste everyone’s time with complete verbal tosh – goes to:

In a week where the subverting Justice league, the ‘Citizenship Seven’ fronted the Supreme Court, strangely we didn’t hear much about it.

Fortunately, the man with the iron stomach and lead in his head, Malcolm Roberts filled that gap, as his legal team gave us this Tony Stark-raving mad newsly tidbit:


Also, I’m just going to put this here:



The Secret Verbs and Spicers for the sauciest, most regret-inducing piece of fried hyperbole each week goes to:

The entirety of the whole Trump/Eminem squabble. One of the aforementioned men once stated: Bitch I’m a kill you! You ain’t got the balls to beef. We ain’t goin’ never stop beefin’ I don’t squash the beef. It’s galling that it could theoretically be either. Anyway, stirring the tomb of the man who also played stan, was the wobbling jowls of Donald Trump, which in turn, enabled this:


I know what you’re thinking. He’s too old to dress like that. I mean, he’s almost 50. Just wear jeans for five years, and then you can regress into tracksuits at the same speed as the rest of us, Marshall.

Although, fun being fun, the internet made with the memes, which was hilarious:


Real News @superdeluxe

A post shared by Jessica Anteby (@beigecardigan) on

Until it wasn’t:


Great. Now I’m sad.