I DON’T want to alarm anyone, but I think we all need to start considering the distinct possibility that our Prime Minister might be a robot sent from outer space to destroy us all.

I mean sure, he looks humanoid — the skin texture and fluidity of movement in particular is very convincing — but you’d expect that sort of technology from a superior alien race.

It’s the little things that give him away.

Like the time in 2011 when he decided to answer a tough interview question from Channel 7’s Mark Riley by going mute, staring straight ahead and shaking for 20 seconds.

That’s basically what my laptop does when I try to run too many programs at once. No doubt one of Mr Abbott’s advisers had to press ctrl + alt + delete after that to get him functioning again.

Then there’s his trademark way of talking in interviews ... with long ... oddly placed ... pauses ... and repeating key phrases, that’s repeating key phrases — a sure sign of his RAM struggling to process difficult questions.

Not to mention all the weird decisions he’s made — like giving Prince Philip a knighthood. No human would ever have considered such a ridiculous idea!

And then there was that time he ate an onion. Raw. With the skin on. AND DIDN’T EVEN WINCE.

It’s right there in his name for goodness sake — Tony Ab-BOT!

Honestly, it’s the least convincing act since E.T. put on that wig.

And this week we got yet more proof of Mr Abbott’s inhumanity: his outright refusal to take in the 2000-odd refugees fleeing Myanmar, currently stranded at sea and slowly starving to death.

Well, actually he didn’t really say “no” to the idea, he said “norp”.

“Norp, norp, norp,” he said, as his language software suffered an unfortunate glitch.

“If you want a better life, you need to come through the front door,” said the Prime Minister of one of the world’s wealthiest countries.

“If you get on a leaky boat, you aren’t going to get what you want.”

Clearly the “compassion” module was never installed in Mr Abbott’s mainframe.

Our much less wealthy neighbours Malaysia and Indonesia are taking these people in, many of them children, almost all of them in urgent need of medical attention, and yesterday America flew into the region to help with the crisis.

Meanwhile, we fold our arms and stamp our feet and say “norp”.

If ever we needed proof that our Prime Minister is an unfeeling cyborg, this is it. Unfortunately, with him as our leader, we are now a nation of unfeeling cyborgs, trumpeting about front doors and back doors and queues, as if those things hold any importance to people who are being systematically beaten and raped, whose friends have been murdered, whose children are starving to death and whose homes have been turned to rubble.

“You can’t come through the back door!” we feebly cry, as if we’re yobbos trying to stop gatecrashers at a bring-a-plate barbecue instead of signatories to the UN refugee convention.

Critics of my Robo-PM theory will probably point to the fact that Mr Abbott loves to slip on red speedos and go for a swim, an activity that would usually be off limits to a robot. But I just bought a phone that can survive up to 60 minutes underwater (as long as you don’t bother it too much) so I know it’s possible.

At least, I’d like to think it is. It’s certainly preferable to the notion that our leader is a human who lacks any actual humanity.


First published in The Advertiser, May 23, 2015. Click here to read the original article.