We are now in the halfway phase of the federal election campaign and I'm wondering just how many more impossible things we're supposed to believe before breakfast each day.
I've come to the conclusion that there is a special place in Hell for prime ministers who call six-week election campaigns.
Even the commitariat are feeling the strain. I hear that Janet Albrechtsen is crouched in a darkened room whimpering in the middle of a nest of shredded articles, an unkempt David Flint can be found living in a Rushcutters Bay stormwater drain frightening passers-by by declaiming from Liberal Party press releases in a hollow voice, Sol L. was detained after he was discovered with pith helmet and blunderbuss openly hunting suburban streets for undecided voters, and the normally staid Alan Ramsey is planning to elope with Bill Heffernan.
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