Time for political bizness

I've been pontificating elsewhere on this election result. One appreciates ventilation at such times and having a good yarn is therapeutic. You never know where it may take you -- cognitively. (Now there's a big word to throw around at a post mortem. )
So cognitively speaking, the problem to hand -- that the Howard government was re-elected with a massive majority-- is all about your point of view; and the tack is to engineer your POV so you feel tickity boo. And I feel tickity boo. I do.
Without the use of substance I have begun to appreciate the promise that beckons in this current circumstance. I'm not saying it's serendipitous but it forces all of us to get back to basics. It's all about refocusing and regrouping. I could thow in a few oft repeated slogans here but instead I'll share with you a new one: Sam Watson, the indigenous SA candidate for the Senate in Queensland, reckons today that "there is no more time for Sorry Bizness, this is the time for political bizness ."
Given that saying sorry is supposed to be the exquisite etiquette owed the Stolen Generations from white Australia, Sam's rescheduling is a very apt response. And besides, since my partner so often reminds me of my inadequacies, I can't do two things at once. Not me. Being sorry is also such a cop out. Sorry for Sam's people; sorry for the election result; sorry I didn't shave this morning or change my underwear... Any number of laments. Rather than wail I'd prefer to live in the moment and realize it's time!
Sam's turn of phrase reprises an older slogan that went, "Don't agonise! Organise!" But I reckon Sam's catches this political moment so much better.
So within these four walls of Australia that's the word and Sam's my man.

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