Pollie’s Preppers guide: how to survive the election.

Pollie Waffle, our main woman in the political know, is at it again. This week, she advises us on the best way to survive the election.

We find ourselves, dear readers, in the midst of a brutal election campaign. I am here to warn you it’s about to go full GOT Red Wedding on us (if politicians can use GOT themed attacks, dammit, so can I). 

Easter and Anzac Day have landed in the middle of the campaign, breaking up momentum. Though let’s be honest, what momentum? It’s been a terrible start for both major parties with weak narratives, reactionary announcements and everyone promising strong economic management and improved cost of living without any really clear plans voters can actually trust or understand. 

A political campaign without a strong narrative is like a book with no real story line. It leaves you wondering what the point is and without any lasting commitment to a character. Let’s take Bill Shorten. After all these years as opposition leader, who is this bloke? Besides being a terrible dead weight on Labor and the only reason they could lose this election, I dunno who he is. Not really. Shorten’s overwhelming lack of charisma also means many of us are just disengaged from him. ScoMo sort of has a narrative but it isn’t tight and lacks discipline. Flogging yourself as a ‘daggy dad’ is just outright embarrassing. Their respective campaign teams have hopefully had a come to Jesus moment over Easter (pun intended) and sorted themselves out.

The starting gun will fire this weekend on the dash to the finish line. If you think it’s been rough until now, oh just wait til you see what’s coming.  It’s going to be bloody, nasty, hard and fast. Unless Labor have some stellar dirt and campaign tactics ready to launch, the race is suddenly much, much tighter than we ever thought it would be. The Coalition have gone from saving the furniture to believing they have an actual shot at forming Government, minority or otherwise. And there’s always the high entertainment value of Clive, Pauline etc who could quite literally do anything.  

So how are we all going to make it to through the 3 weeks til the evening of May 18? There is nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. In the interests of your well-being, I bring you the 2019 Election survival guide. 

First of all, you have to know your enemy. Where it goes, what it does and can you vaccinate yourself against it. 

Over the coming weeks, there are some clear danger zones for us all. 

Anywhere high vis is worn is dangerous. Michaela Cash could pop up at anytime in a hard hat (or is that just her own hair?) to save the utes, and the workers generally. All politicians love high vis because it makes them look like workers (and also Village People) and there are big machines and stuff. If you see high vis, run. 

Hospitals and schools are danger zones too. Imagine being in your sick bed and having this mob lurking around. They like schools too. The best advice you can give your kids if they are exposed is to show them the 1950s duck and cover drills. This photo best demonstrates. Adults can improvise in any environment. 

Also beware of shops, markets and transport stops like train stations at 7am on working days. They tend to move in packs and can be identified by their brightly coloured t-shirts and desperate attempts at eye contact. 

The biggest threat is when you’re stationary so for gods sake just keep moving if you must enter a danger zone– forward, backwards, in circles. A moving target is harder to catch than a still one. And the more speed the better. I like to go to the flower stand at my local markets on a Saturday.  I live in a marginal seat which is what we would call very high threat environment under this scenario.  I’ve got a variety of egress routes to avoid attack from the t-shirt wearing pamphlet armies. Fake phone talking a good fall back if you get stuck. You don’t even need a phone at your ear. Just start muttering and point to your ear. 

I’ll be honest with you, there really aren’t many safe places in the coming weeks. Online shopping, Dan Murphy’s delivery, Uber Eats and home schooling are live options. My young friend, Mr F, is an excellent cook and just had his tonsils out. He made about 600 litres of ice cream before his surgery in what his dad described as doomsday style prep. Mr F is smart and clearly a natural prepper. I am following his lead. But with wine. 

The worst of all though for my money, and hardest to avoid, are the ads and the barrage of media coverage. Basically, don’t watch live commercial tv or listen to the radio. Netflix is your best friend. Foxtel is tricky because even if you just watch the on-demand stuff, there is a risk of exposure to Andrew Bolt. If you listen to Alan Jones or Ray Hadley, well you deserve everything you get. 

Social media is harder. There’s no real advice here except to just channel Bird Box and not look. If you have friends (like me) who have political rants snooze them for 30 days on Facebook. Then embrace them post May 18 when they calm down unless they spruik One Nation or Captain GetUp! which leads to automatic defriending. You could also just use this time to take a social media detox. Radical. I know. But worthy of consideration in these dark times. 

There is one last option of course. Embrace it all and buy a season ticket the circus. That’s what I’ll be doing.  I expect to be rocking in a corner by 19 May.

Love, Pollie.  

PS: Over the coming weeks, I’ll try and make some sense of a few of the major policies so let me know what matters to you.