They voted for it

THE afternoon sun is a sad little pink eye squinting through the massive smudge of greenhouse gasses covering nearly the whole Huon and Channel areas of Southern Tasmania.

Two days after the election, the Delft-blue March skies turn shit-brown as yet another humiliated Tasmanian forest, recently flattened for woodchips, has its entrails heaped up and torched by Forestry Tasmania.

This is the price the moss, insects, animals, birds and forests pay for the electorate’s fear.

This the price they pay for a fat, two-headed political schoolyard thug firing filthy threat-covered lies at the feet of a fearful electorate that vacantly dances on one leg for a few weeks every four years.

If we don’t let them govern in stable majority and mine our remaining unprotected forests for a piss ant’s royalty to the State of between $7 and $14 a tonne, our house values will drop to the price of an old caravan.

If we don’t let them cocoon the woodchip barons in the comfy, high walled palace of kindly legislation and corporate childcare, the Greens could mandate compulsory sex change operations for every Tasmanian firstborn son.

If laws come in to name the secret drones who by the cover of night, inseminate the grotesquely heaving Labor-Liberal termite Queen with their treasures, then we’ll be stripped of our God-given birthright to mash the coastal heath lands in our 4WDs with the “No Greens” stickers.

Fear has slapped Democracy down for another 4 years so it doesn’t get ideas above its station, and Forestry Tasmania is hosting the celebratory barbecue.