Australia has just segued from atheism, under Gillard, to religionism under Rudd and now Abbott. Ross Jones says be afraid Australia — be Godfearingly afraid.
I AM SORRY if you are a Christian. Your faith is under threat from philistines.
Happy clappers to xenophobes, Kevin Rudd to Tony Abbott, Hillsong to Mass, they’re playing you off the break
Rudd was nought but a pompous religionist, Abbott a Jesuit referee for paedophiles. A wall-hitter. God help us.
Boats. Foreign aid. Being in the least bit sympathetic to the tragedy that is Aboriginal Australia. Opus Dei. Hockey gave a speech to the Sydney Institute entitled ‘In Defence of God’. Does God really need defending? We’re talking omnipotent here.
It would be okay if avowedly Christian politicians had a quick squizz at #9 of the 10 Commandments:
‘Thou shalt not bear false witness’.
Ambiguous, sure, yet clear as day.
There are only ten rules, set in stone, so how hard can it be?
A Commandment like remember the Sabbath Day is easy — late up, bacon and eggs. Not committing adultery? A good Christian thinker’s response by, say, Rudd’s idol Barnhoffer, would be "define adultery" — because let’s face it, many famous Christians liked to get their rocks off in a fairly haphazard fashion. Any number of Popes, for example.
As for coveting, well, hands up all of you.
Anyone who attends a seminary for a few years, until the between-the-legs stuff tears them away, is no more than a failed fundamentalist. Abbott is a peddling incarnation of B.A. Santamaria, who had his own daemons. And leg issues.
Rudd reckons he’s going to hang in as the member for Griffith. Fresh from the Gesthemane that was September 7, the man remains trapped in the cave. Will not a Samaritan roll the rock? Or at least cast the first stone?
And now Pell ‒ Cardinal Pell to you ‒ a political beast hardened in Vatican bastardry, a man with a royal telephone to both God and the PM.
His Eminence ‒ defender of abusers, keeper of the keys to the $30 million Rome pleasure palace that is Domus Australia ‒ will be working his speed dial even as you read this.
Given he’s now dealing with the LNP in power, Pell might think it expedient to temper his more extreme views on the abhorrence of adult-to-adult homosexuality, but apart from that, it’s all systems go for the primate. Frock up boys, we’re on!
A fascinating sideshow is going to be the way Murdoch and Pell circle each other. Pell will be concerned to keep the worst of further sex abuse hearings under wraps, but that stuff is grist to the mill for Murdoch. Sadly, things being as they are, look for future paedophile priests on page 17.
In the triumvirate that is Abbott, Pell and Murdoch, the dirty digger stands out as a beacon of atheism — or is that just unadulterated venality? Sure, he’s a Papal Knight Commander of St Gregory, but we’re talking Rupert here. Back in 1998, he gave the church so much money the Pope gave him a gong even though he wasn’t Catholic. He had his reasons.
As he once pretended to like the Chinese, expect the digger to rediscover his love for Roman Catholic iconography. A delightful sideline would be if the digger made Bolt and Ackerman attend Mass. You could hear the sizzle in Marrickville.
In the good old days of Menzies (sigh), Catholics were commonly referred to as Micks and known chiefly for making fish & chip shops crowded on Friday evenings. The idea of a Roman Catholic being anywhere near the reins of power was an abomination. Membership of the Melbourne Club was out.
Now the time has arrived for the Catholic right. Revenge is at hand.