When I was watching the election night coverage, keeping tabs on the many Liberal politicians losing their seats, there was something that stood out to me. A red glow emanated from my laptop screen. No, t’was not just the wave of seats going to Labor. Rather, it was the faces of conservative politicians getting increasingly flushed.
It made me wonder: why are conservative politicians always so red?
Now, I say this as a redhead who blushes easily and has pretty frequent acne flare-ups. My cheeks are very often rosy, a vibe I greatly enjoy.
But this redness I noticed from conservative politicians was something else. It was a redness from within, glowing outwards through their skin like a tiny collapsing sun living inside their faces.
I knew I had to investigate. I knew I had to search for the truth.
I first noticed this in MP Tim Wilson when he was interviewed by the ABC on election night. Throughout the interview Wilson become increasingly irate and as a result increasingly red.
Wilson is the former MP of Goldstein — a safe Liberal seat — which he lost to teal independent Zoe Daniel.
Upon questioning from Annabel Crabb, Wilson said he believed there was “a very deliberate campaign run against me to stop the retiree tax”. He seemed very into the idea of people targeting him personally, but unable to understand that this may be because he is a massive pain in the bum.
By the time of his concession speech the next day, Wilson’s face had lost some of its pronounced crimson. But still I recognised that tantalising redness, that heady flush of defeat.
Next there was Scott Morrison. In my opinion he has many things to blush about: the decimation of our climate, ignorance of the desires of young people, toleration of transphobia, washing that one woman’s hair. But I don’t think he was red from shame of years of terrible policies.
According to Healthline, flushed skin can be a response to many things: stress, embarrassment, anger or any “other extreme emotional state”.
Let your eyes linger on his red sheen. Ponder what it says about his emotional state.
In Scott Morrison’s face I see, like a sweaty, conservative crystal ball, the red glow of defeat. How poetic.
Of course, how could I discuss very red politicians without mentioning the beetroot king himself Barnaby Joyce? Barnaby Joyce’s red face is the Grand Designs feature wall in the living room of Australian politics.
Your great aunt insists it’s “fetching” and “unusual”, it gives the rest of your family a headache.
Barnaby Joyce is so red that he is virtually purple. I have never seen a redder person in my life. I have spent many hours poring over photos of Barnaby wondering how one can develop a complexion so red.
My personal take is that Barnaby turns one shade redder for every terrible view he has. Now that he’s no longer leader of the Nationals and banished to the backbench, I believe we’ll reach a new stage of redness: Pantone’s famous “Heinz ketchup left out for too long to congeal.
Even the usually cool, calm and collected Josh Frydenberg developed something of a Cooper’s Ale flush when he lost the seat of Kooyong to Monique Ryan.
I believe the redness began at the top of his head and worked its way down like a Venetian blind.
This is the red face of a man whose Budget did fuck-all for the climate realising that he just lost his safe Liberal seat to someone backed by Climate200.
So with detective cap firmly on head and in a terrible Benedict Cumberbatch-inspired Sherlock Holmes accent, I can declare this investigation closed.
The redness of conservative politicians is a result of a simple chemical reaction. It’s the combined force of all their terrible policies and abhorrent beliefs attempting to burst forth via their sweat glands like an exploding star of fuckwittery.
I’ll take my medical degree now, thanks.