Can you ‘uncancel’ yourself? Disgraced MP Tim Smith is about to find out

Mere months ago fallen Victorian Liberal MP Tim Smith didn’t know alcohol was a drug. But during his time as an outcast, Smith has been filling gaps in his knowledge. Specifically, he’s learned .

I’m uncancelled and I’m back, Smith told Sky News’ Outsiders program this week. Pow! Yep, it’s that easy, people, to reverse a crushing hex on yourself. Say it out loud and thus it becomes reality. No testing of the waters, public consultation or humility required.

Just a decree that you are back, baby, and picking up where you left off. Which in Smith’s case was slipping into the night after stacking his Jag into a Hawthorn fence while plastered in October.

Breaking the law should have meant game over but Smith’s magical uncancelling powers (does Liz Cambage know about this? ) have seen him bounce back like those waving inflatable figures at Car City. Perhaps because they’re enhanced by his having what in the olden days was called More Front Than Myer.

This supreme chutzpah means you can pronounce anything and expect it to happen because you’re special. It’s like The Secret but better: I want an upgrade to business class. I want the King Living Jasper sofa delivered next week. I want to be an MCC member today.

It’s a great life hack for all us schmoes raised to work hard and reap rewards. Let me give it a whirl: this is my last column because I’m the new CEO of Qantas.

Combined with Smith’s old Scotch boy hubris, these states of being were enough to convince the outgoing member for Kew it was a good move to give advice to his party.

Stop obsessing with the woke concerns and obsessions with the inner-urban elites, Smith said. Forget about it, move further afield. Take the focus off Kew and focus on Cranbourne.

That’s right. European car driving, London School of Economics educated white male who lives less than 10kms from Collins St pays out on privileged elites while wanting to be a man of the people in a blue-collar electorate. And while not realising unsophisticated non-elite Cranburnians might have the same woke concerns about a scorched planet that city goers do.

No, this is not a Working Dog TV series.

Tim. We need to know. What is it with you and inner urban elites? Did a Uni High kid rebut all your second speaker arguments in a Year 11 debate? Did you lose a tight bocce game in the Darling Gardens? Are you jealous of men who know how to wear scarves?

You may not want to hear this from a former inner urban dweller who once looked up how to make soap while simultaneously having those gorgeous hand-milled French slabs in the guest bathroom, but the problem is you learned the wrong thing during your time in the wilderness.

Since you’ve been gone, masters of the universe have become unfashionable. As politicians, partners, team leaders. Your type is only appealing in delis where burrata is bought by the kilo, and then only just.

So what you should have been boning up on is how to read the room.

Don’t feel too bad. There’s a lot of failing to do that now. Witness Meghan Markle saying her trip to the Uvalde school shooting scene was in a personal capacity, as if she these days has a public one. And there just happening to be a Getty photographer on hand for the ‘private’ moment.

Like Bec Judd hammering the state government from a $7 million mansion about rapes, bashings and home invasions at the hands of gangs in her bayside suburb, which according to the latest 2021 statistics is the second safest Melbourne council area.

Like dismissive premier Daniel Andrews coming off as a victim blamer in responding to Judd’s crime wave fears. Like Judd’s neighbour saying he had to call his private security team when teenagers attacked a Liberal sign on his fence. Reading the room fails. Funny not funny.

Anyway, must dash. Alan Joyce is ready to hand over his office.

Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media.

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