Simon Crean MP
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Journal of an aspiring PM
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Saturday, October 05, 2002
Did you see me on Insiders today? Fire in the Belly, was what you saw. Onwards & upwards.
And when I want your advice I'll ask for it, Alan Ramsey.
Off for 60 laps. Catchya.
My good friend Martin is, as you know, a leading light in the Victorian (non-tomato) left faction. But this is just an accident of history.
Martin once confided to me that "much vwot Hans sheel s sense" (Much of what Pauline Hanson says makes sense) (see deciphering Martin). I love him like a brother, but he's a worry sometimes.
Fire in the Belly
Got 50:50 through, 121 votes to 169. Oh well, that's done.
The other day in the Qantas Club lounge I ran into a high profile pollster and we had a drink and chatted about this and that. About me, mainly.
He reckons that the punters aren't particularly enamoured of John Howard, but there ain't nothing else on offer. They a suspect I agree with him on most things anyway, that I'm a linear, unimaginative little shit with narrow life experience - just like Howard - and so why go for pale imitations.
This pollster also said that the voters are desperately, hungrily crying out for something - someone - else, but it ain't there. They want someone with, and these are his words, "fire in the belly", to lay into the current government and its agenda, to spell out to them what they in their heart of hearts suspect: that this is the most miserable and mean-spirited group of cads, bounders and pick-pockets that's been foisted on an unsuspecting people in many a generation.
I do, indeed, lack that fire. Mark Latham does not, but he really does agree with John Howard on everything. (At least I still like unions.)
Oh, and what about Carmen? I hear you say. She at least could passionately elucidate an alternative view of the world.
Hmmf. As if the party would toss me for her! I mean, really.
Thursday, October 03, 2002
Martin just phoned. We're catching the plane up to Canberra together tonight. He's been good, fortifying me to stick it to those "un-strayn nkers" [un-Australian wankers] (see Deciphering Martin) who would water down our border protection policy.
He reminds me that those people in the camps are themselves "un-strayn" - a proposition against which it is not possible to argue.
My chances of getting the 60:40 rule changed to 50:50 are, I reckon, much better than even. Probably 90:10. Wish me luck anyway.
The Australian's Dennis ("oh, please may I moisten my nose in your posterior, Mr Prime Minister") Shanahan has a huge swipe at me today, saying that according to Newspoll, I'm the worst performing opposition leader since ... forever.
I shall not let these things get me down, for tomorrow I will conquer all before me.
Big rules shit-fight in Canberra tomorrow. I'm actually feeling good about it. I'm going to give it to those bastards, drag the trogs into the real world. You just watch me, I'll have fire in my belly. And I'm talking to you, Roozo!
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
Martin says we should bomb the crap out of Iraq because "they're un-strayn" (un-Australian). (see Deciphering Martin) Carmen wants to adopt them all. Woe is me.
Boofhead continues to give me a headache in Cunningham.
As I write, my esteemed foreign affairs spokesman is at it again, on "Australia Talks Back", an ABC talkshow. Ruddy would do anything to get his noggin/voice on air.
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
Wed 1:28pm (Melbourne time). Back from pool. Did 46 laps. Swimming always exhilarates but on the way back I was overcome, not for the first time, by a spiritual numbness. Nay, an interminable flatness, not unlike this city.
Deciphering Martin
I rang Martin last night. Martin is one of my best mates. The thing about Martin is that, when speaking, he leaves out every second syllable. It's not as bad as it sounds, because if you ask him to repeat, there's a 50% chance that he'll leave out the other syllables the second time around.
For instance, last night's conversation started like this:
Me: G'day Martin
Martin: 'Day Mon, tcha nup?
Me: Pardon?"
Martin: Good Sime, what been to?
Which of course, if you add the two together, means 'Good day Simon, what cha been up to?" Generally, I don't need him to repeat, you learn to decode automatically after a few years.
Anyway, Martin's dad died last week. We discussed this for a while. He said the only thing wrong with the funeral was that "that nt 'Nifty' s'there"
We shared the latest Kevin Rudd joke, talked about Mark and Paddy. Martin is quite fond of Paddy, reckons he "speaks lot comm sense", especially on issues relating to the First Australians (Martin uses a more colourful phrase than that.)
Anyway, Carmen came up in the conversation. I said to Martin that we'd tried the West Australian experiment already and it had failed dismally, didn't he agree? He did, wholeheartedly. "Sime, you chyour ken ck"
I said I certainly would watch my back. He's a good mate.
Ok, off to the pool now, going to go for 54 laps.
In my next update I'll tell you what I've been reading.
Catchyas.
Monday, September 30, 2002
Am I boring because I'm so bored? Or is it the other way around?
Life can be complex.
The thing that annoys me about Rudd is the way he's taken control of this Iraq stuff.
Mark went a little troppo last week. Had a go at Paddy McGuinness, of all people. Paddy had questioned his sobriety in a column, which coming from Paddy is really just asking for it. Mark returned the compliment.
It's true Mark hasn't been taking care of himself lately. I think they should get together over a beer. What I mean is they deserve each other.
Not looking forward to the Cunningham byelection. There's an ever so slight chance that the Green candidate or this wacky left wing unionist will get enough preferences from everyone else to go over the top. That would be highly embarrassing.
Did you see today's Newspoll in the Australian? Written up by Dennis Shanahan. He says "The Coalition remains in a dominant position". He forgets we have preferential voting.
Utting hasn't been doing much out there lately - we ain't got the cash - but the little he has is in broad agreement with Newspoll. After preferences we're a good three points ahead.
So hold your horses Carmen, I'm not dead yet.
As I noted earlier, I admit to being boring. But at least I'm comfortable with it. Unlike the Prime Minister, who feels the need to liven his blogspot up with razzamattaz. With me it's just what you see is what you get. Take me or leave me.
No, don't leave me. Yet.
It's nearly one o'clock and not much has happened. Bob & I decided to do the opposition thing on this "war tax" beatup. But really, who gives two hoots?
Where's Carmen, I wonder? Surely she wouldn't still have aspirations, would she?
Catchya.
Do you want to know what being opposition leader is like? It's like being stuck forever at 2:30 on a very long and dull Sunday afternoon.
Just back from the pool. Fifty laps today, not bad.
Back in Melbourne. God I'm bored.
What about Carmen? I hear you ask. Good question.
People say I'm too boring to win an election for Labor. Perhaps they're right. Others point out the obvious - that John Howard is even more boring than I am.
But then others say that Labor always needs something special to get elected, given the conservative nature of the Oz electorate and the way divisional boundaries work against us. So you need a Hawkie or a Gough, someone with oomph, not someone like me. Am I just keeping the seat warm?
For who? Who will knife me? Ruddy wants the job, but he's too much of a poonce for caucus. Mad Mark is just itching for it, but he'd send us to the wilderness for a generation. The rest of the aspirants are nobodies. We're in a sorry state, oh yes indeedy.
This is my blogspot. I see Johnny Howard has one so I'm doing it too. I'll catch ya later.
