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I’ve just heard on the Al-Jazeera wire that my highly talented, but ideologically mixed-up millionaire property magnate mate and occasional ink-drop dripper Hedley ‘Doubting’ Thomas has – in recognition of his long-record of service to the industry of right-wing print media nonsense – been afforded the rare honor of carrying the reformist flag for the pen-tack-less-letes at the closing ceremony of the Four Decades of Addressing Ingrained Australian Racism games to be held at the Silvio Berlusconi Knows How To Stack A Federal Circuit Court Stadium in the Olympic city of Samba With a Silencer In Your Scone City, South America.
And good bloody on old Doubting too, he’s come a long way for a bloke who looks as ordinary as he does, and he fully deserves the accolade as reward for his leadership from the National (Affairs) Front in the campaign to abolish the 40-year-old Section 18C of the Racial Discrimination Act. There’s no doubt that Doubting’s Dashing-Des like leadership – inspired by his understandable outrage that his mate Andrew Bolt can no longer call a coon a make-make believe Murri even if the Koori con-man descended from Oodgeroo’s mob’s countenance is s paler than the intestines of a coconut – has been absolutely and utterly outstanding.
Sensational even, if you’ll excuse the hyperbole, and verily and with confidence may I attest that so say all of we gentleman at the Chelmer Masonic Lodge, the Brookfield Buffaloes Club, Toowong Tattersalls, and the Friday afternoon titty girl feel-up-fest at the Anfield Arms Hotel. And of course it goes without saying that the ladies of the Fig Tree Pocket district Fellowship of De Beers, and the Chelmer Chapter of the Order of St Coco Chanel pass their best wishes along to our dear friend Doubting as well. We’re proud of you out here in the Western Suburbs wealthy-white-belt son.
It’s great to see all those famous legal, political and sporting administration names having a night out at on the Country Roads leading to the Chelmer Masonic Lodge isn’t it sportsfans? Nimmo, Beanland, Tunstall. John, Denver, Arthur. It doesn’t get any better than this!
It’s just a pity for Australia that Doubting prefers track and field – javelin throwing, long jumping and team-tactic running over middle-aged distances – to boxing, because not only is his smashed-mango of a head perfectlty suited to the sport but gee the big fella packs a big punch, even if his interpretation of both the Queensbury Rules and the Queen’s English can be a little off kilter from time to time.
Just take a look at the gambling man’s fistic arsenal for Bennelong’s sake!
Ill-applied adjectival uppercuts. Short-right defamatory imputations that land just above the belt. Venal left-hooked verbs. And most of all, a sensationalist middleweight career-killing uppercut that sends fellas up into the higher weight divisions and lands them on a path to loot and glory.
Just look at this analysis of Doubting’s language bashing skills made by Iron Mike’s former trainer Cus D’Amato and relayed to Don King just days before the legendary fight manager’s recent passing.
CUS D’AMATO: Oh Donald just take a look at the pen-handling paws on this palooka from down under! I’ve never seen anything like him. The Aussies call him Doubting, but there’s no doubt in my mind whatsoever that his chump can become a champ.
Reform Donald! This Doubting fella’s got in spot on! Just check it out. If this kangaroo-kissing southpaw from the deep south don’t have it straight spot on Sir, then I’m goddamn Sonny Liston!
Reform: Verb: subject (hydrocarbons) to a catalytic process in which straight-chain molecules are converted to branched forms for use as petrol.
DON KING: Reform is just grand my man, but independence is king o’ the ring Cus, just like yours truly, a man with a plan and ten tonnes of jewelry.
Don King’s a groove thing of the ring who’s got the bling on reformin’. Ka-ching!
CUS D’AMATO: Well yeah boss Doubting’s looping independent conservative to the kidneys is a bit-boo-hoo I confess – the Aussies say that this Day and Ley are actually members of some Trump-style political parties rather than on their own right-wing reactionaries that’s true – but hey, a high-priced dashing lawyered-up defense strategy will fix that Sir, as sure as the Colonel’s secret herbs and spices will forever remain a secret.
DON KING: But what about what I’m hearin’ about this young middleweight Calum Thwaites, Cus? They say that Doubting’s PR spin has cost him shot at the teaching title.
CUS D’AMATO: Teaching-smeaching Donald. Doubting’s world class promoter too. He’s had this young pup windmiller’s put on a few pounds and jump up the weight divisions, and now the young text-book thumping tyro’s set for a huge payday down the track. He’s gonna become a goddamn lawyer Donald, just like Bobby Arum!
DON KING: Arum! That asshole! Don’t ever mention his name in my majestic midst again Mr Tomato.
CUS D’AMATO: It’s D’Amato Donald.
DON KING: Whatever pasta boy. You’re all just Wogs to me. But speaking of asshole attorneys, an Aussie QC of my acquaintance tells me that this Doubting’s been skating close to the evil-wind by wildly imputating that a sista named Cindy is nothin’ but an over-reaching, exorbitant-compensation seeking brown blackmailer.
CUS D’AMATO: It’s imputing Mr King.
DON KING: No it’s not Cus – it’s hot-dang terrifying! What’s the width and length of our legal exposure if this Doubting gets dusted in a defamation lawsuit?
CUS D’AMATO: We ain’t got none Donald, cos my man Doubting’s writing right now for that randy geriatric Jerry Hall jacking root-rat Rupert Murdoch. And the old coyotes copping the bill!
DON KING: My man Cus my man. Doubting’s my man. Get that fella with the hail-smashed melon on the dog and bone D’Amato. If he can turn himself into a gold-medal winning journalist, we can turn him into Goddamn anything!
Editor’s note: The inappropriate use of the offensive term boong, and the terms Murri and Koori are for satirical purposes, and intended to support the retention of Section 18C of the Racial Discrimination Act and the protection and advancement of the rights of First Australians. The sledging of Doubting Thomas was just for sport and because he can take a spray, and loves free speech so much that he would defend my right to call him a c*nt to the death, even if until yesterday he thought Voltaire uttered the famous words, and even if being called a cunt made him cry just like being publicly branded a segregationist supremacist made Cindy Prior cry.