COVID tragicomedy we can’t turn off
WHO needs Binge or Netflix when streaming to us free of charge we have had The Jab?
A tragicomedy in the best Shakespearean tradition with an all-star cast comprised of our leading political figures, it demonstrated that when it comes to putting on a show our boys and girls are thespian standouts.
There was drama from the start with a COVID outbreak, an opening scene featuring Queensland Health Minister Yvette D'Ath and set against the backdrop of a Dionysian orgy, which imperilled the very existence of the empire.
"Shame, shame, shame" shouted the chorus at the 25 hedonists who had so flagrantly flouted the dictates of Empress Palaszczuk.
Then we had the classic comic twist, the audience gasping with surprise when it was revealed that there was no such gathering and that rather than a knees-up of which Caligula would have been proud, it was five housemates and one other having a quiet night at home.
"Apologise!" cried the chorus, but Ms D'Ath had exited stage left. There would be no apology for in the Palaszczuk empire when a minister blunders rather than drink political hemlock they throw their public servants to the lions, their desks adorned with plaques reading "the buck never stops here".
Then the call went out - cry havoc and sound the alarm for once more COVID threatened in the form of frontline medical workers who tested positive. The ramparts were manned and the city sealed, the audience aghast at this shock turn.
"Whodunit?" they whispered. "Who failed to make sure hospital staff got The Jab?"
Whoever it was, it wasn't Ms D'Ath who had suddenly been written out of the script, all hopes of an Oscar dashed when she was sent home with a sore throat. Was it a sore throat or was it because she could not be relied upon to remember her lines? Fate can be so cruel!
The sense of drama now was palpable. Easter loomed. How long would the citizens be confined to their homes?
The tension continued to build. To be or not to be, that was the question. Empress Palaszczuk, like all players, knew how to milk a scene, how to say a little but not too much. A hint here, a wink and a nod there, just enough to keep the punters on the edge of their seats.
The lights dimmed, a drum roll echoed offstage and the Empress appeared in the glare of a single spot. Had a decision been made? The audience held its collective breath. Not a sound could be heard. The decision was - that a decision would be made tomorrow.
Several viewers fainted at this news, overcome by the drama of the moment while those whose businesses remained shuttered banged their heads against the wall and poured an extra large Bundy and Coke. Still the whispers continued. Why had not the health workers been vaccinated?
Episode two opened with the Empress appearing to cries of "hallelujah!" for the enemy was no longer at the gate. The city had been saved!
But who was to be the villain of the piece because as every viewer knew, at the heart of every drama was the timeless battle between good and evil?
Enter Deputy Premier Miles, already short-listed for an Oscar with his performance in his one man show titled Throwing NSW Invoice For Queenslanders' Quarantine Costs In The Bin. Was Miles to be the new Russell Crowe? The golden statue beckoned as all was revealed. It was all the fault of that dreadful Scott Morrison and his odious government for not delivering enough vaccine. "Of course!", cried the audience as one. "Now it all makes sense. The plot thins rather than thickens! It's the Feds!"
Suddenly a new player entered the arena preceded by a fanfare of trumpets. It was David Littleproud, Federal Minister for Emergency Management, and he was giving Miles the finger and poking out his tongue! Shock! Horror!
Our Clown Prince was not to have the golden statue snatched from him. Digging deep into his repertoire as only one accustomed to treading the boards can do, Miles pointed at Littleproud and denounced him as a fool, no ordinary fool but in a hilarious turn, an April Fool as the final credits rolled and the screen faded to black.
We all have a sense of humour but the merriest of souls have had their patience stretched to the very limit by recent events. For everyone's sake, can our elected leaders dump the juvenile theatrics, name calling and petty politics and get on with the business of serving the needs of those who pay them so handsomely to do so?
Everyone loves a joke but not, when as happens all too frequently, the joke is on us.
Originally published as COVID tragicomedy we can't turn off