YOU would possibly be aware that some folk are wetting their pants with excitement at the idea of Kevin Rudd grasping the prime ministerial reins the second time around.
OK, fair suck of the sauce bottle, it's only the Canberra press gallery and the ABC-TV's Four Corners who are thrilled, even as the rest of us get on with our humdrum lives starved of seriously weird phraseology and tense leadership battles endlessly scrutinised by the dog pack mentality of a rabid media.
Your correspondent nevertheless confesses to being moderately interested at any Ruddster return, not only because of a sincere anarchic yearning for sudden and unexplainable change, but also because we miss the guy's gob-smacking ability to mould the mother tongue to suit his own requirements.
And that includes a snowstorm - make that a full-blown blizzard - of acronyms.
Come on now, don't you yearn for a little of Kevin's ``programmatic specificity'' and other language-tangling stuff rather than Julia Gillard's strangulated shop steward ``Stray-yan'' that, given time, you can almost understand?
Conceded, there are times when the Ruddster may as well be speaking Mandarin.
But then again, we all have our faults as far as verbal delivery goes, it's just that much more emphasized when you're a politician dodging and weaving around straight-out questions on the idiot box.
Such as Julia on the Four Corners programme on Monday night when asked whether she was aware that her PM acceptance speech had been drafted a whole two weeks before she (surprise, surprise) got the gig.
La Gillardina didn't know a thing about it, honest.
Pardon us, but there's a local angle here, too, with Premier Lara Giddings having a tone at times so enthusiastic and girly that she sounds as if she is addressing a grade 12 graduation dinner - as a student.
And hate to say this but if state Opposition Leader Will Hodgman flogged preloved vehicles in the same frowning and strangely unpersuasive way that he appears on the telly, the car yard would still be chockas with clunkers at the end of the week.
And while we're on the subject of politicians' verbal delivery, only last week some unkind political commentator remarked that, if trees could talk, they would sound ``as monotonous and boring'' as Greens' leader Senator Bob Brown although you wonder whether the pundit has been listening to too much Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention.
Where were we? Oh yes, Kevin 11 who obviously wants to go to an election as Kevin 13 or 14 even if it that doesn't rhyme or scan like ``Heaven''.
No problem for the Ruddster, you can tell that as Foreign Minister, the guy is as restless as a duck dancing on a hotplate.
Even schmoozing with Russia's Putin and the Brits' Cameron doesn't really cut it for Kev, does it?
There are times when he doesn't look like a happy little Vegemite at all, especially when he's asked to answer reporter's questions on whether he is openly available for the PM's ``magic roundabout'' gig.
This correspondent warns that we must all steel ourselves for an arm-waving Rudd striding back into the PM's office, including the inevitable verbiage.
Fair warning but should PM Rudd speak of ``the involuntarily undomiciled'' or ``the differently qualified'', he's talking about the ministers he's just thrown out of cabinet.
So it may be just as well to again get your head around Kevspeak before the rumoured coup and the Ruddster yells in that strangely mechanical way: ``My name's Kevin and I'm here to help in a spirit of programmatic specificity.''
A sure signal that he will continue to commit crimes against the language.
Meanwhile, does anyone know the Mandarin for ``fair suck of the soy sauce bottle''?
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