Bilegrip Admin here.
They said it couldn't be done. It took eleven and a half years, but finally the Wicked Weasel of Oz has been tarred and feathered and run out of town. The history books will not be kind. John Howard will live in infamy for the rest of his life as the most destructive Prime Minister in Australia's history. His only claims to fame will be his embarrassing appearance in a poorly concealed flak-jacket when he repealed the gun laws, and a strong economy he inherited from Paul Keating and Bob Hawke.
We've been at this gnashing of the teeth since 1994 and now that the war is finally over and the Illiberal Party has been reduced to the oblivion it deserves, it's time for us to go.
Never a major player, Bilegrip and SCATT nevertheless made a contribution. Heartfelt thanks to our readers over the years. A special thanks goes to Maurie Gee, whose graphics helped the cause immeasurably.
Our first publication, dated 11 March 1994, was The "Resign, Jeff!" Review. Jeff Kennett, Premier of Victoria, was the kind of authoritarian who made you think twice about dissenting. So we mailed the eight issues of the RJR as an anonymous samizdat to members of the media on democracy's side.
After that came The Subs 'n' Duds Report, also a mail-out, which lasted from March to October 1996, coinciding with the election of John Howard.
After a hiatus of a couple of years (whatever were we doing during that time?) we went online with Scum at the Top, continuing on and off until February 2005. All volumes of SCATT can be accessed here.
We kept thinking John Howard would go away. But like a metastasising cancer, he just kept getting more and more power over the health and decency of Australians.
Hoping to begin a blog about the many meanings of life or its utter meaninglessness, we started Bilegrip in June of 2005. Bilegrip uses blogware (Movable Type) as opposed to the self-coded traditional web site HTML of SCATT. MT made it much easier, since Bilegrip looks pretty much the same on every browser using Macs and PCs. SCATT often looked wildly different depending on the user's platform and browser.
Too bad for us, the political scene kept getting worse and we just had to stick with it. Now, we're fed up with life on the internet, no matter what the subject.
Here are some parting messages from those who have involved themselves in the PPF over the years, beginning with our most recent contributor. For bios, see About the Bilegrip Mob.
Now that we've got our democracy back, it's time to rip off the anti-Howard bumper stickers and find a new pub where I can soak up the suds in peace.
My contributions to Bilegrip as arts commentator and beauty pageant judge were terminated early on by John Howard and this blog's subsequent political obsession with him. May Howard rot in turmoil for robbing me of my career as a brilliant worshipper of the female body as God's or Satan's greatest art form.
Tara R. Bümdier
With the demise of Mr Nasty, I was considering a move back to the United States, but I understand the only way you can set foot in the land of the free is to have all ten digits fingerprinted. Isn't that what they do to criminals? I guess for Dubya, everyone not with him is a crim. Maybe I'll stay here and sell the Big Issue.
I'm due for release from the breakdown spa any day now. My goal is to join Harold Hark somewhere in Europe and collaborate on a new unpublishable book of my adventures with dozy women. I've met many here at the home, including a little pixie who claims to be the reincarnation of Edie Sedgwick.
[Bilegrip Admin]: Hark has not been heard from for some time, but is rumoured to be living in a hut on the outskirts of a village in the French Pyrenees. Our sources inform us that he intends to walk the Camino from Le Puy to Santiago next Spring or Autumn.
I can't say that John Howard interfered greatly with my position at Bilegrip. Sport, after all, transcends politics and all other life endeavours. To be honest, the only interference came from me. I don't really like sport and I'm extremely lazy.
Thanks to Howard, I hardly got a word in. What a waste of time. It's back to Rumania for me.
[Bilegrip Admin]: LaMerde is still missing, presumed dead.
Tomás El ("Pinche") Pendejo
To hell with the yoke of maturity and responsibility. I'm off to Salvador Da Bahia, Brazil, where I intend to spend the rest of my life uncrossing the legs of beautiful guapas y guapacitas.
I'm heading for the Amazon basin, where I hope to encounter brujos with herbal recipes for entering realities far more interesting than this one. I hope to be in one of them on 21 December 2012.
Theodore G. Willikers
[Bilegrip Admin]: Willikers is studying Sufism in Turkey. We understand he has been less than successful owing to a fondness for hashish.
Well there you have it. As I myself ride into the sunset, I can just make out the comments of some of the gathered townsfolk:
TF1: Who is that man and why is he slapping his hands on his thighs in a clippety-clopping horsey sound as he hops in a very silly manner down the street?
TF2: Who cares?
TF3: I, for one, do care. He had a certain je ne sais quoi, don't you think?
TF2: You know, I hate the way you use high-falutin words like that.
TF3: Mi scusi.
TF1: Can we stay on subject, please? The fucker's nearly out of sight.
TF2: Why all the fuss? He came, he ranted, he went. It's time for us to move on, too.
TF3: But he helped save us from the dreaded Weasel of Oz. He's a hero!
TF2: He's no bloody hero. Do hero's hop and whinny and slap their legs? Hero's ride real horses, ya dumb shit.
TF1: Tarnation! While you two were squabbling he disappeared over the horizon. Granted, the horizon's just a few feet away and we're standing on a chalked out set similar to Dogville.
TF3: So, I guess we'll never find out who he was.
TF2: Who cares?