Folks, in 2050 I’ll be 84, and with a bit of luck, still living on a planet that doesn’t resemble a lump of scorched charcoal.
Of course, I’m an optimist.
Should I be around to ring in the New Year in late 2049, I suspect my biggest fear won’t be worrying about the state of my underwear each time I cough, but being asked by my great-grandchildren, why did so many Australians vote for the clowns currently running our country.
Fortunately, I have some time yet to come up with a reasonable sounding answer, because the truth is still a bit too painful to share, i.e.: we lived under the delusion that most of our politicians were smart, honourable and decent people who were elected fairly and squarely to represent our country’s best interests and we had an impartial press to hold them to account.
Did I mention I’m an optimist?
I’d have to be, because I’m surrounded by good-hearted folk, who are kind to dumb animals, generous givers, community minded, selfless volunteers and never afraid to pitch in during a crisis, but who, for some unknown reason, continue to vote in people with the values and morals of a sex starved, slightly crazy and angry taipan.
When I tell them I vote Labor and think The Greens have some good policies they either gently pat the back of my hand and make soothing noises, or yell Sky News talking points at me.
I get my own back by making fun of the people they vote for; and boy, I’ve got enough material just from this year alone to keep the chuckles coming well into the next decade!
Like two weeks ago when the Honourable Member for Hinkler, Mr. Keith Pitt, announced that solar panels don’t work at night, and basically suggested if we get rid of coal fired power stations we’ll be left groping for the unheated food on our plates in pitch darkness at dinner time.
Keith Pitt asking Parliament, “Who stole my lump of uranium!”
The next day, possibly because she was dared to by Barnaby, MP Dr. Anne Webster declared, on television, without a hint of irony or slurring which would indicate severe mental trauma or long term alcohol abuse, that wind farms don’t work at night either.
I’ll call Dr. (seriously, she has two degrees!) Webster next time a cyclone tries to remove my roof after sunset.
Anyway, both statements were waved through without comment by interviewers who should have immediately cut to a commercial while the Honorable Members were quietly lead away.
This, I’m sad… no, horrified to say, is the level of political discourse in our country at the moment people. And it hasn’t got this way by accident.
So, I wasn’t surprised last week when after eight years of inaction and more then twelve years of outright aggression toward anything that threatened coal mining, the Prime Minister, Scott Morrison, stood up in Parliament, waved a brochure about and announced his party were now greener than a tree frog.
If the PM could hear half the country guffawing and the other half lifting their bottom jaws off their shoes, he never showed it.
Then, with no actual plan, details, policy, costings or modelling, he doubled down and announced his brain fart, sorry, leaflet, will create thousands of jobs.
I’m sure these will replace the tens of thousands of jobs his mob have slashed in the manufacturing, university, tourism, auto and entertainment sectors.
Again, have I mentioned I’m an optimist?
Still I’m cynical enough to suspect our PM, and his science denying cronies, will sidle into a future life of luxury, while the rest of us are left to clean up their dithering mess with actual actions, not mealy-mouthed announcements.
But with a bit of luck, by 2050, we’ll have the climate predicament sorted out and political leaders with genuine ethics, values, principles, standards and morals leading Australia.
And, with even more luck, I’ll be around to enjoy it.