I mentioned haruspication in my previous post (telling the future by examining the entrails of animals) but there’s really no need to dirty your hands. Could it be possible, for example, on the basis of the far-right surge in the US to predict the outcome not only of the French presidential election in April-May 2017, but also the Australian election all the way into the far reaches of time (ie. 2019)? Hell, why not. I mean, nobody is reading this shit anyway. Am I right? AM I RIGHT? Of course I’m right…


Because it’s a foregone conclusion in France, let’s begin with them. In short, while they’re currently in the throes of their primaries, nobody really has a chance against Marine Le Pen and the National Front. France seems unlikely to forgive François Hollande’s socialist left for failing to protect them from terrorism. Le Pen would exsanguinate a thousand baby harp-seals with a rusty coathanger to win the election, and then will impose a regime that will make the Ministerium für Staatsicherheit of 1980’s East Germany seem like a bunch of fun guys. But that won’t be the end of it, oh no. To counter the civil unrest Marine Le Pen’s term will inevitably stir in the Gallic breast, Marine Le Pen will cede leadership of the National Front to her niece Marion Marechal-Le Pen. More angry words will be written about Marion, the ultra-right’s weapon of mass distraction, than there ever were about Trump. Big call, but you heard it here first.


Following a tactically-unsound double-dissolution of government earlier this year, Oz goes to the polls in 2019. Brexit and Trump have given an oxygen-boost to conservative politicians downunder, especially the ultra-right represented by independent Pauline Hanson, famously dubbed by yours-truly as the Wicked Witch of the North. And I have to say, if I am going to be doing some longitudinal raging at the poster-child of the Australian right-wing movement, why in hell couldn’t she look more like Marion and less like a shaved Pomeranian about to savage your about the knees? While there’s no possibility One Nation will ever govern in their own right, she could hold balance-of-power with the renascent neo-cons of a new-look Liberal National Party. And that’s my prediction: that Malcolm in a Muddle will be replaced with somebody infinitely more loathsome, who’ll ideologically if not literally hop into bed with this scaly horror.


That’s it. A short post. Had to do it before my crystal ball went blank. Either that was a genuine psychic flash into the future, a completely random guess, a symptom of my enveloping pessimism for the political future of this world, or reflux on account of all the alcohol I consumed this afternoon. No matter what, I think us progressives have our backs against the wall and will need to dig deep. I’m don’t know what the answer is, but one thing I am completely sure of is this: we live in interesting times.


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