The story so far…
As Beijing’s strangle-hold on the recalcitrant Aussies tightens, pro-China lobbyists smell blood and start jockeying for the Evil Emperor’s favour. Now read on…
Paul Keating denounces the Australian security services as a bunch of “nutters and CIA flunkies” (for the umpteenth time this year) and sets his entire collection of French Empire clocks to Beijing time. “Time to face reality,” Keating proclaims, with one ear cupped for the umpteenth time this week to the sound of another cool million hitting his bank account, “and to start toadying up. Ching! Ching!”
“Beijing-Bob” Carr, blames Australia’s woes on inept diplomacy. “Aussie diplomats seem quite incapable of grovelling and fawning before 5,000 years of Chinese civilisation,” Carr says, with one ear cupped to the sound of another cool million hitting his bank account, “a 5,000 year-old civilisation which invented the chop-sticks, I might add,” he says. “However, I stand ready to advise anyone on this ancient Chinese art of Kow-towing. My expertise lies not so much in having rendered this service to our lords and masters on a daily-basis for decades, but on having rendered it so effortlessly.”
Recruits to China’s lucrative ‘Let 1000 Useful Idiots Bloom’ program and the ‘I Won’t Tell ASIO if You Won’t, Nod-Nod, Wink-Wink, China Number One Fan-Club,’ such as Sam Dastyari, follow their handlers’ advice and stay low (as do weasels), while continuing to rake it in.
Meantime, the Emperor sends a secret communique to his trusty lick-spittle Tin-Tin Rudd: NewsCorp, the bastion of Australian resistance, must be destroyed. Still furious about Murdoch’s key role in removing his sorry ass from office in 2013, Tin-Tin – who presumes himself to be the Celestial Kingdom’s secret, most-favoured Viceroy-in-Waiting (“’cause I knows Mandarin and stuff”) – is ready, willing and able. Immediately he comes up with an audacious plan: grow a beard and launch some totally useless inquiry into NewsCorp.
Cackling quietly to himself, Tin-Tin quickly assembles a crack-team of two (other) has-beens: one, toffee-nosed and with an obvious axe to grind, the other, overwrought and with a mere feather for a brain. In keeping with his reputation as a modern, with-it, tech-savvy wanker, he sets up a hi-tech, hi-speed, doubly-encrypted, highly-classified, top-secret, made-in-China (if that doesn’t warn you) Zoom session to brain-storm inquiry’s terms of reference:
[Long, silence at first, not knowing what to say, before Tin-Tin breaks the ice.]
TIN-TIN: “Bloody Murdoch… Bastards..! Bastards…! Bastards…!”
MALCOLM TURNBULL: “Bastards! Absolute bastards..!”
SARAH HANSON-YOUNG: “Total bastards..!” (Starts to sob uncontrollably…)
CHINESE ZOOM SPY (listening in): (Uncontrollable laughter…)
[Goes on like this all day…]