Belgo Geordie: Fook Me! Were that an election that joost went past? Polling Day: The Blurry Australian 'Paint Drying in slow motion' Federal election sunny day blues!

It's bin a booger of a week in Belgo Geordie household. Brexit. Joost when yer thought there was not mooch could make an old man cold fart, the referendum for Little England did just that! It were bad watching from a distance; the Boris and Ukipper Punch and Rude Boy show (Nigel taking care of Europe)-it were like watchin' a baldy, slack mouthed stoat motherin' along a line of little chicks to the abattoir of ignorance. It was only going to end in a mess of blood and feathers and crunched little bones. Worth reflecting on Polly Toynbee's column from yon Grauniddad.
"Blame will spread far and wide. Tony Blair thought a "modernising" third way meant ignoring old cloth cap Labour. But strong unions were the core, the glue that held together the post war coalition of intelligentsia and working class. Labour should have encouraged unions into all workplaces, political educators about rights and solidarity. Without them Labour became a cadre of well-meaning graduate MPs motivated mainly by doing good for the poor: admirable - but it let the Tories tell "hardworking families" that Labour wastes their taxes on useless idlers. Labour's social contract is cracking."

From - https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/25/jeremy-corbyn-referedum-campaign

Does that not ring great big clangers of bells here in Australia? When did we allow our unions and the fight for fair work conditions to become demonised by the neo-liberals. When, as unions, did we stop pursuing our role in educating our working communities and future generations in the need for vigilance in social justice. About the same time of Blair's morally bankrupt third way. Socialism the world over seems to have crashed and burned in Blair's footsteps.
But then me havin' been smug about yon Rooney's England's exit, this morning me beloved Red Devils, Belgium's finest show ponies, were knocked outta Euro 3-1 by Wales. Good on Wales! They had the hunger and took it to their more fancied opponents. I just feel sorry for Mr De Brun and Hazard as they worked their expensive socks down to the studs to make this collection of talent function as a team. Shame yon Wales Aaron Ramsey won't get to play in the semis against Ronaldo and his entourage (formerly known as Portugal) - which as a team has sum other very good players not called Ronaldo who has to live in the shada of the world's greatest 'my little pouty show pony').

Mr Siva are ya lookin' at me!

If that were not bad enough, the big downer on Thursday our annoyin' boot much loved BG moggie, lost his sight and then marbles. Popping his claws at the still tender and full of beans age of 8; leaving a big, life sucked out, hole in our shredded furniture household. An a' told him he was to outlive oos, his people - not head off to rat Valhalla on his own. For all of those who think a cat is just a cat. He was a Geordie to the core!

So overall me appetite fore endless media fawning over the Coalition tippy toeing Smugs coasting to victory were and is strained. What dus it say that all mainstream media came out on the side of greed and entitlement? Independent! Not blurry likely. Do we care that they are so biased. Give it up for the independent media of Crikey and New Matilda.

What if Part One: If Albo had been leader...

Now an admission of sorts of a passing bias on behalf of Belgo Geordie an' household (including the cat formerly known as Mr Claws Siva Afi) is that we are not, never shall be - bloody tories. Nor Shorten Laborites, nor Dick Di Natale Greens - we rest politically somewhere between old unionist communism (the ghosts of Jock Barnes and Bill Anderson, communists and trade unionists to the core who's wurds and many actions still spruce me dreams and hopes). Albo's grit and socialism, Green left (think asylum, 'youth matter' focus and bloody save the environment and support the regions outside of cafe society). Yon black clothed, never take a step back anti fascist anarchy kids (who are probably taking this as a day off and snoozing oopside down in their grimy bat caves). Socialist alliance (because at every demo they are out there- all ages- doin' the hard yards) and the first people (and it is to the shame of mainstream parties that so many of the first people have been disenfranchised by this election). Other than that incredibly small bias, I am as open minded as most elderly gentlemen from the north east of England are who knew miners, seaman and the Thatcher years.

Boot, before you give me grief about me political leanings, let oos take a moment to reflect on the trustworthy, steady as she goes Nat Lib (Neo Lib) coalition. I know, I know a crap job boot ya have ta give it a go.
Big Malky: Remember what he was like as a thorn in the side of one Tony Abbott? Remember the wave of optimism you, the natlib camp felt when crash and burn Tony was replaced by the Malkinator? Time for a softer side of asset stripping. Gay marriages? Bloody hell Malco would be the celebrant! No more creaming the poor to replenish the rich. He would be the cup to tea break in the middle of the chaos which passed for the time of King Tony. Then there is the Moro. As a christian immigration minister he seemed to think it was righteous to lock up children in detention. He showed as much compassion as a flea in me underpants. Now as Treasurer he seems to be at sea with a ledger. (See his explanation of Labor's great big deficit compared to his modest burgeoning deficit that if you squinted looked a bit smaller and anyhow its only play money!) Yeah right! Julie Bishop. Hmmm. She gets a lot of miles covered as foreign minister, sounds ministerial I give her that but when asked a straight question (post plebiscite) is as straight as a photocopied one hundred dollar note. And at times clueless. Peter Dutton, more heart and passion than a flat fish on a slab of ice. Again, seems to think slogans answer for policy and presides over the infamy of there will be no access to detention centres. Not because there's nowt to hide but its a matter of security to not show how badly we treat asylum seekers who tried to sneak in on great big bad boats. Cornelius the Belgian. Really? Would you buy a used economy from this man. Michaela Cash. More death stare than her clone Bishop. Her idea of negotiation is to threaten and use innuendo re the real power of unions while carefully walking over the rights of workers. Oh, and don't forget Barnaby Rubble unless Mr Windsor turfs him out. Like too many of them, Barney says the first thing that comes inta his mind. Frightening! Then spends hours digging his-self deeper into the shite. But oh so loveable, if you like that sort of blokeishness. Then there is that mass of seething, untrustworthy, shifty individuals who are more interested in keeping their perks than representing their electorates. And lurking in the dark shadows is the jesuit on a bike in lycra just awaiting to serve up revenge in great clots of cold porridge to do harm to those who stopped him in his tracks-on his mission to destroy the leftie, pinko world. And they have the audacity to say they bring stability to government. Plastic, glittery, inflated no balls or substance or what! And they ask the electorate to trust them. Don't think so. Hope not so.

Newtown as sun cracks first light

But digress I do, so on this fine, crisp, clear Saturday mornin' me and the comrade (MUA here to stay) went on our walk oop ta Newtown to see yon pollies setting up their stalls for election day. Its bin a low grade campaign and we (the electorate) seem happy to sleep-walk to the polls and let Malc's razor gang get on with business of gutting the country. Belgo has had many mindless arguments with folk this past eight week trying to get them ta at least think about what is behind Malcs' empty, soothing, downright lying words. Asking folk to measure the actions of two years of 'them and him in particular, in control' ends in the line that "it were all that rabble" (copyright the Telly) senate stopping decent, kind, honest, Malc getting his legislation through. Giving Medicare billing to the banks is joost good business. Better and cheaper service or if more automated means well, won't need so many jobs-like you checkin your own shopping at Woolies and Coles. If I was between 16 and 25 living in Australia I would be mad as a brown snake with toothache, piles and no internet connection. What future? No jobs. No twenty year game plan to become sufficient (let alone self-sufficient). Technology that makes a dinosaur look like a hipster. No affordable housing. Increased student debt for increasingly less useful degrees and qualifications. The emergence of dangerous ignorance (and Deputy Barnaby), fascism and Reclaim (White) Australia, and racism. The lack of bollock in this election to challenge for example casual sexism-gender directed trolling. Or its sub-text: not my fault domestic violence - she made me hit her an' it weren't that hard anyhow. And as for the trolling: it is evil and for those brave anonymous practitioners - you are cowards and bullies of the lowest order of pond slime. Then their is still the religious right and any talk on same sex marriage. Its only canny between a man and a woman, married, preferably white and only to have children and then with yer clothes on and light switched off. Barefoot, pregnant and powerless. Sorry, did a joost miss two hundred years of progress?

Then having been three weeks out in ta regions of NSW. You have ta scratch yer arse (and nightly at that) and wonder what the hell made it so hard for Labor to get traction on a whole raft of things going to shite. Like farming, agriculture, small business viability, hospitals, broadband, youth unemployment, lack of meaningful infrastructure (not fookin' motorways and more choke pits for cars-but watta resources, sustainable farming, diversity). It chokes ya seein' the widening gap between have and have not. Like in supermarkets-folk struggling to find change in their purses to pay for basics- particularly old folk. The increase of visible poverty, the closed shops and cafes. Growing industry, supporting local jobs on ships around our coasts, housing affordability, education (including Tafe privatisation)- lack of affordable housing and child care, medical services; these are the ugly issues out in the regions as well.

Fiona Phillips with an outta town guest in Nowra

Although polls are sayin' it's close ya have to hope it will be decided on the night by a seat by seat basis. Mr Smaug, sorry Smug thinks it's in the bag. It is only slim chance that the entitlement will be wiped from his face, boot, stranger things have happened. Like England winning the 1966 World Cup. Another of me trade union mates has gone to hand out preferences outside a blue ribbon booth in West Sydney just ta remind folk they should be ashamed for giving their vote to a party (parties) who are about the business of sellin' off the silver, who have the bloated morality of the class who believe it is their right to rule. Her wish is Malco gets the Senate he deserves with enough smaller parties of chaos to strangle a goldfish. Please, but not Pauline Hanson!

And this is the rub. What this election needed was leadership, vision. A plan for the future (and particularly future generations). What it got was a plastic spoons gift set, steady as she goes, lurch into disaster-Plan A and every plan following; get elected no matter what. Talk teflon shite. Ignore the uncomfortable issues by relegating them to Trump like fear mongering like with asylum, refugees, detention, first people, privatisation (with all its buzz words, flexibility, efficiencies, streamlining). Big bad unions under the bed waiting' ta take over, steal your children and disappear inta night cackling like cockatoos at a biscuit barrel. Boot, translated it is putting the boot inta those who can least afford it while giving it oop to those who have more than enough. Greed by stealth is ugly. Calling' it policy is just shaming and lying.

I leave you with more snaps of the day while I head inta sunset to sit by shit creek n' bury and mourn the passing' of a marra, me cat that were second to none.