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!
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