I miss Jeff Kennett, I really do. It would take a lot lengthier tome than this edition of the King's Tribune to fully debate the man's legacy. In his term as Premier of the finest state on God's green Earth, Jeff managed to sell shit we didn't know we owned, close shit we didn't know was open, build shit we didn't know we needed and make us pay for shit we didn't know we bought.

He turned an empty, lifeless, industrial dockland into an empty, lifeless, residential dockland and built a shed so big that you can see it from the West Gate. With the money he saved from having to pay the wages of the much loved public transport conductors he bought an automatic ticket system that didn't work.

So why do I miss him? Because he was alive. Like him or loath him you knew who Jeff Kennett was. An acid wit, a hairstyle that saw even the most talentless cartoonist able to caricature the man with aplomb. You knew what Jeff thought, you knew what he wanted, you knew it was going to cost you either a lot of money, or your job (or both) and you knew for a fact that it was going to happen. Nowadays, from the local council to the Federal circuit we are lumbered with a bunch of vapid, boring twats who wouldn't know vitriol if it came up to them shaking a sauce bottle.

Does politics ever really change? When election day looms over an unpopular Government, you can't find a voice in support of the incumbent. I reckon George W must have felt like Pocahontas at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert come November last year.

It's funny though that within minutes, there are howls of protest about the new Government. Do we only hear one set of voices at a time? Or does everyone just forget quickly? At the end of the day, what does one political team offer that is vastly different than the other? Same shit different day I reckon. So I'd have to say I don't really have a preference for one party over another. It seems to me that the radical ideas from each end of the political spectrum have been banished to internet chat rooms and cold meetings of strange men in abandoned school houses. A long time ago the major political parties met in the middle and started haggling over the decimal points.

In lock step with this, our leaders seem to have lost their spark. The UteGate affair serves to highlight the point. So inconsequential are the differences in opinion between both sides of politics that this joke of an issue managed to maintain front page of the newpapers for two whole weeks. It took Michael Jackson's death to knock it off the charts. This, in a world beset by countless bloody wars of questionable or worse justification, a financial crisis that seems destined to liberate more people from their jobs and houses than any other event in living history and the emergence of a new strain of the most deadly virus the planet has seen to date.

Once upon a time the strength of character of our elected leaders might have been enough to see this ridiculous issue out. The PM and Leader of the Opposition would have had the pesky little staffer publicly hung and then got on shelling the crap out of each other from both sides of the chamber. Can’t you just imagine Paul Keating sitting at home over the last few weeks seething at not being able to unleash his acerbic take on proceedings. Our current crop of politicians have all the impact of being hit with a wet lettuce by a painted, perfumed gigolo (to borrow from words that Keating actually used in Parliament).

Maybe I don't understand the intricacies of public life, maybe the type of 'characters' we are now lumbered with is what is required for public office. If so, it's a sad journey that's ended. Fifty years ago John F. Kennedy had the balls to bed the pin-up idol of the day while he was in office and smirk about it. Thirty years later Bill was only just able to charm his way out of losing his job, and he'd only made it to third base. Before being elected, KRudd nearly missed his chance altogether because he once went to a titty bar. He certainly learnt from the experience, and what looked like a possible reprieve from the drudgery of beige political leaders was averted. Now it's seen as progressive and charismatic if a politician Twitters. Wow! You're unreal man!

Last week, Peter Costello announced his retirement from politics, and a good number of people actually started to look back on his career as colourful and charismatic. Now I know that we always say nice things about people when they retire, but what does it say about the current crop of bastards that guide the good ship Australia if we look at Peter Costello as one of the last great characters of politics? Yeah, I know, he did that stupid, stupid macarena dance on Kerry-Ann once, but that's acting like a spaz, not being a character.

Like Jeff or not, next time you're trying to make sense of what the hell our jejune and flaccid political helmsmen are crapping on about, spare a though for their Governmental forebears. Think of Paul Keating turning to Peter Costello in the house and accusing him of being “all tip and no iceberg”. Think of Jeff staring down at 100,000 protesters marching towards his office and saying, “well, there's another 4.5 million of you that went to work or stayed home”'

So to Jeff, and Paul and maybe even Bill, thanks for keeping us entertained. Thanks for having an opinion, an idea, a plan and a big enough set of swingers to say, "Stuff you, I’m going to do this." While your ideas didn't always match the desires of your constituents, at least we knew who you were.

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