Some top-notch Aldi-assisted spy work in the Chinese consulate
Sydney’s Chinese Consulate has lately sent a series of angry emails to The Daily Telegraph, demanding various apologies and retractions. Little did they know, writes Tim Blair.
Opinion
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In a daring counterespionage manoeuvre, covert Daily Telegraph operatives recently installed an array of secret microphones and cameras throughout Sydney’s Chinese Consulate.
These devices, cunningly hidden inside Aldi shopping bags, have enabled The Daily Telegraph to build a comprehensive and totally imaginary picture of activities and events within the Consulate’s heavily-guarded walls.
Many of those activities and events, as it turns out, directly involve this very newspaper. Please commit these top-secret revelations to memory and eat this document immediately afterwards.
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April 2. Surveillance zone: the Chief of Official Truth’s disinformation dissemination office. He has summoned an underling
Chief: “Underling 215, have you completed the official Chinese government document that will crush the insolent Daily Telegraph and forever establish the innocence of the People’s Republic over this whole COVID-19 nonsense?”
215: “Yes, sir!” (Hands document to the Chief.)
Chief: “Let’s see … ‘origin of the virus undetermined’ … ‘effectiveness of China's epidemic prevention’ … ‘Daily Telegraph’s ignorance, prejudice and arrogance’ …. Very good. Email this to them at once.”
215: “Yes, sir!”
Chief: “And for God’s sake, put some pants on.”
April 4. The Chief of Official Truth’s office. Underling 215 is briefing the Chief on The Daily Telegraph’s response.
215: “It is with regret that I inform you they have mocked us, sir.”
Chief: “Mocked?”
215: “Yes, sir. They have taken our heartfelt and entirely honest proof of COVID decency and turned it into a litany of alleged communist wrongdoings, sir.”
Chief: “This won’t do at all! Draft another email, this time with … wait a minute. Wait just one minute. Are you wearing daisies in your hair?”
215: “Just trying to blend in with decadent Australian perverts, sir. For infiltration purposes.”
Chief: (long pause) “I suppose that’s one way of putting it. Send another email — and make it irrefutable! Demand that it be published! The Daily Telegraph must be corrected!”
April 15. A visibly tense Underling 215 prepares to tell the Chief about The Daily Telegraph’s latest reaction to furious Consulate condemnation.
215: “I have good news, sir, and bad news.”
Chief: “Silence! I’m listening to Ray on GB.” (Removes headphones, chuckling.) “My, I sure wouldn’t want to be Malcolm Turnbull this morning. Heh! Now, what’s this about good news?”
215: “The Daily Telegraph, sir. They have published our email, the one where we forcefully explain how the Wu … I mean, the American armed forces virus truly-ruly didn’t come from China.”
Chief: “Excellent! And the bad news?”
215: “They, er, they did this to it.” (Hands the paper to the Chief, showing how The Daily Telegraph used communist-style redactions to reverse its intended message.)
Chief: “This is an outrage! This is the ultimate insult!” (Pauses, strokes chin.) “Still, it’s quite an impressive job. Takes me back to the days when I was opinion censor at the People’s Daily. My brother was the sports censor. And the guy who became head of the Hubei Province Doctor Disappearance Squad censored the horoscopes.”
215: “Who was the editor, sir?”
Chief: “We didn’t have one. Just censors.” (Strokes chin, gazes into middle distance.) “Good times.”
April 22. Surveillance zone: the Consulate’s Great Hall. All staff are present for an emergency meeting.
Chief: “This time they have gone too far. This time they have completely … Underling 215! Stop stroking chin! Stop it!”
Chin: “Thank you, sir.”
Chief: (gravely) “The Daily Telegraph has added coronavirus drawings to China’s national emblem.”
215: “But sir! The national emblem of China is the symbol of the People's Republic of China and is inviolable!”
Chief: “Yes. And I want you to make exactly that point in … our next blistering email!”
Chin: “Another email, sir?”
Chief: (sighs) “I know. What’s the point of being senior communist officials if we can’t even shoot anybody? Anyway, command them to provide a public apology. Let’s see how they like them apples.”
215: “That reminds me, sir. Your package of Hubei-style apple sauce has arrived. Fresh from the Wuhan market.”
Entire room: “WUHAN?!” (Staff flee the Great Hall, upturning chairs and shoving each other aside as they rush for the exits.)
April 23. A distressed and sobbing Underling 215 stands before the Chief of Official Truth.
Chief: “Get over it, 215. Chin’s fatal trampling was a whole day ago.”
215: “It’s not that, sir. It’s this.” (Hands the Chief a copy of The Daily Telegraph). “They’ve called my email a … a … a … they’ve called it a ‘pansygram’, sir.”
Chief: “Hmmm. So they have. And they say here they’re expecting another email ‘from the Consulate’s obedient tutu boys’.”
215: “I’m a girl, sir!” (Runs from the office in tears.)
Chief: (To himself) “Well, at least we know it’s not just my office with a hidden camera in it.”