Master Politics for the unwashed

For today’s meal we are going to prepare some patsy pie garnished with ample sprinklings of hubris and hyperbole with a side dish of innuendo and served on an overused back-flip springboard.
Firstly mix equal parts of conservative attack dogs and leftie latte luvvies with a Sydney harbour’s worth of desalinated water in the back of a Teflon-coated debt truck. When that’s all dissolved, add two tonnes of Bondi cigars to give the mix body and substance then set to simmer for a full term. Don a balaclava and head off to the waterfront for a couple of middies during happy hour.
Once out of hospital, add a spray of Keating wit and 2 bushy brows, then blend in 10,000 barrels of crude oil. Splash another 100,000 barrels of crude oil around the kitchen and backyard to add some ambience, making sure to give all the neighbourhood pets a good soaking. Set fire to an oil soaked cat to keep the bogans amused. Call the boss a bum, take the day off and go sailing with Alan Bond. The stew will cool in about a week. Stay out at sea for this week and have a press secretary add copious ‘no comments” to the mix.
Once back on land, grind up a ship-load of wheat supplied from AWB and delivered free to your door via Iraqi trucking companies. Be sure to add 3kg of plausible deniability at this stage. Blend the lot in a concrete agitator, all the while smirking and denying leadership ambitions. This will make the temperature rise naturally, so call it a man made disaster and insulate the kitchen against global warming. Some of the mix can now be served as hors d’oeuvres named “Shocking De-lights”. This is a convenient time to forget to add in 1 kg of tax reviews, and 2 kg of reports of police brutality and years of hospital maladministration.
To turn our pollie pie into a main meal, add a pie and can of coke tax cut, together with 5 kg of baby bonuses and that will cool the whole thing down. Once the mix has cooled, stir in an overseas military deployment to an unwinnable war while agitating gently for labour market reform. While this lot is marinating on a hotbed of discontent, apologise profusely for not welcoming the drover’s dog into the kitchen. Take a sickie and go to the cricket. Can I just say something stupid that shows, and let’s be quite clear about this, that I make no apologies for not knowing anything about cricket. Pine for the security of the kitchen. Add another truckload of Bondi cigars to give the mix more body and substance.
Move on quickly to the final stages of the preparation ignoring all advice to the contrary. Whilst vigourously shaking a sauce bottle over the mix, whip in a greatest moral challenge of our time. Add a few promises to fix indigenous health and housing and let simmer out of sight and out of mind.
We are now ready to add the stew to the carefully prepared non-stick baking tray that’s been lined with a patsy pastry. To make the pastry, run all the reports collecting dust in the kitchen cabinet through a shredder, blend with tertiary treated water and some of the left over AWB flour. Don’t use eggs as this will earn you the label, “baby killer”. Garnish the pie with 350ppm of carbon dioxide. Place the dish in a pre-heated detention centre in the desert for 3 years and forget that’s it’s there.
To test the cuisine is ready, smear mix over a leaky boat to see if it plugs the holes. Turn boat around. Then around again, and now back the other way, no this way. Cure dizziness with more shakes of the sauce bottle and a visit to a strip club. Divide the pie up into unequal factions, declare the culinary delight a win for post-modern feminism, rename the dish “government largesse” and distribute to P&C associations and school canteens telling them they have to eat it according to the correct formula or they won’t get any more. You can download this recipe every morning after a strong cup of coffee.