Meltdown #23: Social Flight

Just climbed aboard the prime ministerial jet
Slumped deep in my seat, it’s time to reflect
Just fly me to the moon
Far away from this gloom
The last months of politics I’d rather forget

I breathe a sigh of relief as the wheels fold up
A twenty-hour flight with no-one to interrupt
I’m taking my conscience
To the climate conference
Goodbye and good luck in the Melbourne Cup

At least I got some climate support from the Nats
But frankly I believe they’re a bunch of brats
We can still be a bit shifty
With net zero 2050
Yet Barnaby’s mob was like herding cats

I take off over thousands of solar roof tops
Banking left above wind farms we tried hard to stop
Battling buffeting rains
Some call climate change
Maybe it’s an omen as I fly off to COP

I think of the day I brandished that lump of coal
And the photo in parliament that people still troll
When I’d said don’t be scared
My reputation was bared
Now I’ve net zero credibility for any climate goal

We’ve promoted Net Zero the Australian Way
Which means we’ll leave it to the private sector to pay
No modelling or taxation
Not even legislation
Labor will run riot while I am away

Most of our plan’s based on yet unknown technologies
It’s more of a scam with old dusted down policies
Our same interim target
I’ll brush under the carpet
With the COP green loonies and their left ideologies

My plane levels out at thirty thousand feet
I think of Jenny and the girls and have a little weep
I’ve left Barnaby in charge
I fear he’ll rip large
I’ll have another beer and then try to get some sleep

I know we cut the RET and ditched the carbon tax
The CEFC and ARENA we tried hard to axe
Defeated in the Senate
But now we take the credit
For the CEFC investing with massive impact

Yes we once said green hydrogen was slippery snake oil
And electric vehicles would drive weekends to turmoil
When our heart wasn’t in it
We always tried to bin it
Except carbon capture and storage under soil

My thoughts swirl in turbulence, it’s too hard to rest
I haven’t unwound, I’m still feeling stressed
I gaze down from the window
My mind’s lost in limbo
Our illuminated planet stares back in protest

Can I really keep up this policy pretence
Pumping gas and coal on both sides of the fence
Flying solo at altitude
Challenges my attitude
I worry about these looming climate events

I ponder the letter from Barnaby, now Acting PM
Sent at zero hour, eleven fifty-nine AM
With his list of demands
His Net Zero commands
That I’ve agreed to, but there’s no way I can pay for them

From under my seat I smell our COP magic pudding
A cocktail of carbon and methane cooking
It’s ready to explode
On the Scottish high road
Then I’ll sneak out of Glasgow while no one’s looking

The media team’s down back, I feel all alone
I think of Barnaby Joyce sitting on my throne
With our record vaccinations
I won’t need isolation
We’ll start electioneering as soon as I get back home

Then suddenly sleep sweeps over my exhausted numbness
I feel the cockpit shake with an almighty rumpus
I hear the jet engines scream
Is it a miracle or a dream
We spin out of control …. without moral compass!


Kevin Holmes • 29th October 2021

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Meltdown #24: Social Relations

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Meltdown #22: Social Politicking