It’s a shame that such a beautiful building like Parliament House in Canberra has become a soiled symbol of stupidity and selfishness.

Rather than a beacon of good, in which the best and brightest gather to plot our gold-plated path to prosperity, that building has hosted little more than a daily soap opera with a cast of ugly, talentless actors.

Since the Rudd-Gillard-Rudd leadership mess, followed by the Abbott-Turnbull-Morrison embarrassment, it’s been clear that those elected and paid for by we, the people, don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about … we, the people.

They don’t care about us or our interests.

They don’t focus their time and energy on the things that matter, on improving the country and ensuring its future.

Those enormous taxpayer-funded salaries don’t seem to inspire much of anything apart from navel gazing and a level of self-obsession that would make a psychiatrist quiver with excitement.

So, I propose we sack the lot of them.

And for good measure, bring in a wrecking ball and tear down Parliament House, so irreparably has its vision and legacy been destroyed.

I don’t know about you, but for many past elections now I’ve found myself standing at those cardboard ballot boxes staring down at a sea of mediocrity.

Which uninspiring candidate’s box should I tick, I wonder?

It’d be a waste of my hard-fought right to vote, but I’m so often tempted to just draw a sad face on the paper and shove it in that slot with bitter disdain.

What’s the point anyway?

We only wind up with sweaty messes pushing poorly thought-out policies that rarely benefit us. We get stuck with a cohort of representatives who bicker like hungry seagulls over the last remaining sand-coated chip.

Every week there’s some fresh scandal, shameful embarrassment, staggering backflip, self-interested deal, transparent politicking and unrepresentative brain fart.

We’d be better placed with a box of dirty kitty litter and a 1990s-era Magic 8-Ball making decisions about what’s best for us.

You could stick a seating chart of the House of Representatives or the Senate on a wall and throw a dart at it at random, and chances are you’d strike a source of disappointment.

Whack. Extramarital affair and love child with a staffer.

Whack. Mentioning Hitler’s “Final Solution” in a maiden speech.

Whack. Lazy bones who barely shows up to vote and bleats about crocodiles.

Whack. Allegedly uses electorate office staff as free day care workers and dog walkers.

Whack. Sugar daddy who has forever ruined the phrase “G’day mate”.

Whack. Seemingly ignoring and mishandling sexual assault and harassment allegations.

Whack. Wearing a burqa in the Senate as part of a bizarre anti-Muslim stunt.

Whack. Letting a Communist Party linked donor pay your bills.

Whack. Billing taxpayers to take a helicopter to a wedding.

Whack. Intervening to help your mates’ nannies avoid deportation.

Even if you’re a terrible shot, you’ll still probably find the target every single time.

We deserve better.

We deserve politicians who represent us, not themselves or their party or donors or lobby groups or special interest.

We deserve politicians who mean what they say and do what they promise.

We deserve integrity, responsible use of public funds, a focus on the job while on the job, adult and civil behaviour and just a general lack of awfulness.

But we never get it. Time and time again, it’s more of the same.

Sure, there are a few good ones floating around but the balancing is woefully uneven — like popping a little Home Brand air freshener in one of those enclosed smoking rooms at an Asian airport.

Good luck making a dent.

So, knock it down and start again. I’ve got a cat whose litter box we can borrow for a while.

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