Apocalypse meow

AS the Jackson Five might have put it: Don't blame it on sunshine, don't blame it on moonlight, don't blame it on good times, blame it on the Bushby.

AS the Jackson Five might have put it: Don't blame it on sunshine, don't blame it on moonlight, don't blame it on good times, blame it on the Bushby.

Ever since Liberal senator David Bushby opened his cat flap in Senate estimates on Wednesday morning, the new paradigm (such as it was) has vanished beneath an animal plague of Old Testament proportions. It's Apocalypse meow. And when such forces are in play, other plagues are released. There was Tony Abbott, the phrase "toxic tax" flying from his lips with the sinister frequency of winged monkeys in The Wizard of Oz; while there was some small comfort to be had from the chance this meant Great Big New Tax would be left in its crypt awhile, it was unsettling. On the other side of the dispatch box, though, there was a ghostlier stirring as an older plague was pressed into service. It started innocently, Darren Cheeseman, the member for Corangamite, getting to his feet, no hint upon his vaguely beatific features as to what he was about to unleash. As it was, doom came in the form of a Dorothy Dixer, Cheeseman asking about a policy that would mean Australia "can move forward into a clean energy future". And it was done. Julia Gillard was so excited to hear her moving-forwards monster resurrected she invented a new word: contemptful. End times.

Wishful tweeting

IT may also be the end of Bob Baldwin's Twitter output. Following a surprise expression of affection from Nicola Roxon in question time, the opposition regional development spokesman, who isn't normally averse to hitting the keyboard, only managed to tweet twice: "I didn't know the Minister for Health, Nicola Roxon had a 'hotspot' Ooops . . . Softspot for me", then a short time later, "Oh golly gosh." And then, silence. If anyone finds a dazed Baldwin wandering the streets, please return him to Canberra before parliament sits again; if he missed a division, it would be Entsch times.

The usual suspect

FROM the eternal There's Always One files, we were ecstatic - for reasons we can't entirely or probably even slightly explain - that amid all the irate calls to talkback radio in response to Four Corners' Indonesian abattoir story, a dissenting voice rose, channelling a different sort of rage. The call was to Paul Murray's show on 6PR and, in the professionally detached language of the Media Monitors report, "Caller Helen says it was the worst and most biased report she saw coming out of Four Corners." Get her to Senate estimates!

Flat out in estimates

PLANKING (or benching, as it should perhaps be rebadged in parliament) has continued its inexorable spread in the corridors of meow [Surely power? - Ed], emerging as the opening topic of conversation at the budget estimates for education yesterday. Department of Education, Employment and Workplace Relations secretary Lisa Paul was not forthcoming about her planking experience when asked by opposition universities and research spokesman Brett Mason. Minister for Tertiary Education, Skills, Jobs and Workplace Relations Chris Evans said he was still working out how to do it, but added in his reply to Mason, "But I'm sure you would be good at it, senator. You've always shown a sense of balance."

It must be Bruce

STREWTH, as you know, is a classy operation; so classy, in fact, we take care to crack a Wagner-based joke at least once a year. And a classy column attracts classy readers, so naturally we're only too happy to call on you to help the Australian Chamber Orchestra name the $2 million Stradivarius that's come into its hands (as reported in this august organ yesterday). It's the only one in Australia and also bucks another trend. As the ACO tells Strewth, "They usually come with a name that lasts down the centuries, often a famous person who owned or played the instrument. This one doesn't have a name, so we're giving people a chance to have a stab at making history by asking them to enter a competition to name the Strad." Visit aco.com.au - judging by some of the names so far, they could do with some help. Though hats off to whoever it was that suggested Bruce, and Phar Lap - highly strung but a lot of guts - was kind of on the money.

Gospel gasper

IT started innocently enough, a gentle hand upon Chips Rafferty's crowning glory in the Papua New Guinea Highlands (Strewth, far too frequently this week), but the correspondence keeps rolling in. Of course, it's long since moved on from intimate greetings, PNG-style, to bush tobacco (Strewth will need an olive green cover) smoked in rolled-up newspaper. Over to reader Rick Elsey: "As a child in PNG, I recall that the Bible was the preferred roll of choice. I even remember a missionary being very pleased with the amount of Bibles requested. As a trivia note, the black, sticky twist of tobacco was sold in shops as Nigger Twist (makes White Ox smell like $100 Cuban Cigars). And the paint colour Dulux Mission Brown was sold as Dulux Nigger Brown. How times change." For a solid dose of PNG, see this month's edition of The Australian Literary Review, now served with Chips. (Product placement ends here.)