The Future Transfixed

 


There they were then, this terrible assault on all dignity. He betrayed himself, he betrayed his supporters, he betrayed his own destiny, and sank, sank. For a time. He had no idea why this terrible collapse.

And so it was, those dark windows, that gale that blew through everything. 

Farewell, my friend, said one of the Watchers on the Watch before he left Australia, and all he could think was, "my friend?". Why didn't you say that before?

But he wouldn't have believed it anyway.

Part of the disillusion was centred around the election, the sweeping victory, if not mandate, of the Australian left, the total collapse of the conservatives.

He had always thought that Peter Dutton would one day be Prime Minister, and would return the country to the sensible middle. But a truly gormless election campaign, where he stood for nothing and simply echoed Labor, the left, meant only that he had had a better offer. 

And would do the 50 metre dash to the nation's boardrooms.

And the rest of the country could be damned. 

Nothing about cost of living, insane levels of immigration, over-regulation, ridiculous expansion of bureaucratic rule, the march towards a totalitarian future for the Australia that he had once thought of as his country, a story worth telling.

It was all pointless. And it was all over. And he was on the road. 





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