Immortali: The Rising

Not an update, but I need your help

Ok, so I don't really do this, but lately... I've been thinking about starting a blog. The problem? I don't know anything about blog writing, or even if people will like what I write about about. So... I'm turning to you, my lovely readers, for help. In this section, I'll include an unedited (emphasis on unedited) post that could potentially be for a blog? You don't have to vote on it, in fact, you don't even have to read it, but if you do, would it be ok if you could please leave a comment telling me whether you liked it or not and why? Thank you, my lovely readers! :-) 

Aussie Politics: The Best Joke We Ever Came Up With

Reaching one's eighteenth birthday is a milestone. You've either finished school, or you're getting very close. You're probably about to start University, or maybe an apprenticeship. A gap year, perhaps? Who knows?

From eighteen onwards, everything is a new experience. Every journey is new and exciting, or hard, but enlightening. This is where your official 'adulting' begins. So, as I reached my eighteenth year and celebrated with friends, I couldn't help but think of what being an eighteen-year-old in Australia really means. The ability to drink (well, legally anyway)? True, very true. Open a bank account in my name and, more importantly, getting my own debit card? True, and positively amazing. Legally being able to leave home? Again, very true. But the ability to vote? Um... let me get back to you on that.

You see, for those of my fellow human beings across the sea, I don't know if you've heard, but a bit over six months ago in Australia, we had a change of Prime Minister. No, he was not voted in via an election (not by the Australian people, anyway). And no... we're not really all that concerned either. This kind of sheer madness and indecision? It's happened before. Back in 2015, during the fine spring month of September, Malcom Turnbull—the guy that just got kicked out and replaced by current Prime Minister, Scott Morrison—overthrew Tony Abbot as the leader of the liberal party.

A Machiavellian play (or, more appropriately, a Shakespearean comedy. I'm thinking along the lines of the group of artisans from A Midsummer Night's Dream) would be given a run for its money when compared to the ridiculous scandals and intrigue of the Australian Government. We've had married men (yes, children and all) with mistresses (and using tax payers' money to do so), mining scandals, changes in prime minster, and, most recently, cringy adds for the lead up to the 2019 election, the award for the worst of which, going to Clive Palmer.

"Let's make Australia great again," he claims after a clearly scripted rant about keeping coal in Australia. I'm unsure as to whether or not Clive knows that he's stealing that line from another famous political figure. This time, in America. But, while it may have worked for Donald Trump (I mean, I guess he's still in the White House for some reason, right?), it just makes dear, old Clive seem rather—well... to be blatant—stupid. Not once did he take his eyes off the camera during the ad, not once did he pause for breath. Not once did he sound even remotely believable. He did, however, provide some entertainment and disbelief for my little sister and I. Even she, at the ripe old age of fifteen, shook her head. "You can tell he's reading off a script," she'd said. And let's not forget how he used a parody of Twisted Sister's We're Not Gonna Take It, changing the lyrics to 'Australia's not gonna cop it', which wouldn't be so bad, if he'd asked for permission from the band first... and if they'd said 'yes'.

As ludicrous as it may sound to you, this is the truth of Australian politics. Changes in government, intrigue and scandals, and let's not forget past political figures trying to crawl their way back up from the walk of shame. The latter is actually my favourite: when someone screws up so royally in politics, disappears for a few years, and then magically reappears a year or two before an election. I've heard talk of Tony Abbot returning, and, clearly, even after he lost the support (and trust) of voters after the mining scandal, Clive Palmer's still trying to make his dream of becoming prime minister a reality. The only politician smart enough to stay out of politics once their career went up in flames (so far as I've heard anyway, but it could change) is Julia Gillard. Yes, the carbon tax was unpopular, yes, I didn't miss the 'ditch the witch' posters in my hometown, and yes, she was also the first female prime minister. However, even if her political career failed, at least she was smart enough to leave politics, and not (as of yet) return. Points for Julia there. She had enough brains to realise a sinking boat when she saw one.

Other political figures? Yeah, not so much. Apparently, it's not over till the fat lady sings (and if this is the literal case, I'm not averse to the idea of climbing onto the roof of my house and giving the suburbs of Brisbane a riveting rendition of Frozen's Let It Go—but with permission from Disney first, of course).

Humour aside though, how does the latest batch of Australian eighteen-year-olds help decide for the future of their country? If I'm being perfectly honest, I don't particularly like any of the current politicians. They claim to have different policies. They say they're all unique. They tell us they're fighting the good fight, but, at the end of the day, they all sound exactly the same. They tell us the same lies, give us all the same false hopes, and then tear it all to shreds once we face the shocking reality that the word politician means nothing more than 'professional liar' (and yes, for any fans of Green Lantern: The Animated Series, I did just quote the definition Hal Jordan gives to describe the politicians of earth). So, in light of this revelation, I'm seriously considering drawing a little box at the bottom of the ballot paper and writing 'I don't like any of them' at the bottom. And then, I'm going to put a little 'one' in the box, because I genuinely, whole-heartedly, don't like any of the current politicians in my country. It's no wonder that most Australians care more about the outcome of the AFL grand final or the State of Origin, rather than the election results. At least footballers can (usually) be counted upon to pull their heads in and finish the game, unlike the sloppy, unfinished (or perhaps 'work in progress') effort that is Australia's NBN.

So, to summarise? To conclude? To give a final call to action? I give a message to Australian politicians, one that will probably go unheard. A cry amongst a million others, lost in a sea of disappointment. To them, I say this: pull your heads in and stop thinking about your $200,000 salary when some of your people are living on so much less (about $20,000-$30,000). Start doing your job and earning the money we pay you to run the country. Democracy is for the people, by the people, right? So, I guess we're kind of like your bosses? Well, your bosses are unhappy with you. So, stop arguing like little children and fix it.

—Sincerely.
Scarlet Rose.