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Tuesday, 10 September 2013

The Krud Diaries: After the Apocalypse

Dear Diary,
                   My plan has worked to perfection, diary, as I always knew that it would.
The party has been defeated, but I have not – eat your heart out, Glasson – which means the stars have aligned in precisely the manner I predicted.
What is that, diary? I did not predict it in these pages?
That is true, meine liebe, but I do not beg forgiveness. If I omitted to take you into my trust, I did so for the Greater Glory of Krudland to come!
There were many spies and un-believers among the party minions, my diary, which is why I kept my true plans secret even from you.
My victory speech was magnificent, diary. The press monkeys dared to criticise me – thinking they were beyond me reach – but they, too, are ignorant of my real plans.
And what are my real plans?
Do you know something, diary? That is a very pertinent question and I thank you for it. When considering that question, one has to stop, think, reflect on the variables that may – or indeed, may not -impact upon the disparate factors that contribute to the make up of the desired outcome and consider them, not only in isolation, but also the cumulative affect that such variable factors may or may not exert on the thought processes necessary to arrive at a solution acceptable to all of the disparate parties that may, or may not, be constrained by their own interests or, the interests of controlling entities, in so far as the solution arrived at meets the competing needs of everybody concerned.
In this particular case, meine liebe, no interest is powerful enough to compete with my own, therefore I felt no compulsion to vary my considerations before settling on the goal that my strategy should be constructed to achieve.
In other words, diary, I have reached my goal: ridding myself of That Woman, Usurper Beattie, Admiral Bradbury with the tattoo of That Woman upon his bony arse and a raft of malcontents.
Among the malcontents I have despatched are Emo the Minstrel, Four-Eyes Combet, Smiffy, Epileptic Garrett, Crean, Fers’n, Red Jocks-Head Conroy, Swan and 'Baby' Joe Ludwig.
I may have lost the battle, meine liebe, but in eliminating so many of my internecine rivals, I have left myself poised to win the war.
The hardliners who opposed me completely have been driven out. The others who swore they would never serve under me – Plibersek, Burke and Wong prominent among them – turned their coats to support me and save their jobs and thus are bereft of credibility.
I have thrown sand in their eyes by declaring that I will not seek the leadership, leaving the dregs in Billy The Fink and Albo Two Times to weaken each other while I sit, plot and intrigue toward the day I resume my rightful position.
Plibersek, Wong, Bowen and Burke are in my thrall. They have proven themselves weak and will do so again when I call.
So you see, my diary, my grand plan, now?
Eliminate my enemies before the election; run a campaign calculated to reduce the number of my enemies further; reduce the party to a rump populated only be weak vacillating lickspittles and turncoats; let the leadership be fought out between a discredited knife-for-hire in Shorten and a cry-baby green-teeth in Albo.
I know, meine liebe, I know. It is brilliant. I shall sit quietly in the background, weaving my webs and controlling my minions until The Abbott renders them incapable of resisting and they have no choice – in about February, 2016 - but to go begging on their knees to the one man capable of saving them from oblivion: ME!
Do you see, meine liebe?
I shall, to all intents and purposes, be a ‘humble’ backbencher, content with my lot until the time to strike presents itself.
My flying monkey press drones remain in my thrall and will do my bidding, until I am ready to strike against von Papen and von Hindenb … Billy The Fink and Albo Two-Times.
I have the added benefit, my diary, of my dear lady wife. She may be stingy with the pocket-money, but she has revealed a hitherto unseen ability for scripting political advertisements.
My plans are complete. Like Shelob, I will wait. Planning, plotting and eating what morsels come my way until the time to strike is come!
Let Billy The Fink take the leadership. Let the sheep follow the crooked staff. I will watch and I will wait and slowly and surely, I will draw my plans against them!
My diary, it may seem that I am concentrating my efforts on penning Mein Krudf, but I swear to you know that I WILL lead the party again!
My plans are perfected, my minions in place. I will rise again and in 2016 the world will tremble at my name.
I am the Party. I am the Answer.

I am Krud!