Brace yourselves, gentle readers, for the latest pantomime in the theatre of global military absurdity. US and Japanese troops, apparently bored with their own continents, have decided to frolic in the Australian bush. Yes, the bush.
Where everything is venomous and the only thing more dangerous than a drop bear is a politician with a map. Whitehall sources, those vaunted whisperers from the corridors of power, have been caught puzzling over this manoeuvre with the bewildered air of a man who has just discovered his trousers are on backwards. ‘What are they doing there?
’ they whisper, their voices cracking like old leather. The official line, naturally, is ‘training exercises’ but we all know that’s smoke and mirrors. This is a platypus gambit: strange, improbable, and possibly a sign that the planet has finally lost its marbles.
And let us not forget the real question: will there be decent gin in the bush? I fear not. The only thing more terrifying than a US-Japanese alliance in the outback is the prospect of warm beer.
So as the troops practice their camouflage and pretend to be friendly, Whitehall sits in its panelled rooms, polishing its monocles and wondering if perhaps the whole thing is a ruse to steal the recipe for Vegemite. Meanwhile, the world watches, aghast, as our rulers play their games of Risk on a map that has long since stopped making sense.
