The last week in parliament has been the political equivalent of a burger with the lot. The PM’s whistle-stop tour to Indonesia for the inauguration of its president, the passing of a Labor giant, terrorist attacks in Canada that reverberated around the world, domestic blues over renewable energy and responses to ebola, and the Abbott Government’s war on red tape. Not to mention Jacqui Lambie and her first foray into senate estimates.

In just a few short months on the red carpet, this Tasmanian tiger has gone places no-one else dares. Her description of ‘Valdimir’ Putin and his ‘great values’ though, takes the cake. At a time when the rest of the world is rounding on the Russian president, Jacqui frightens the bejeezus out of Vladimir’s second cousin, twice removed, Valdimir (no relation to Lord Voldemort of Hogwarts fame) by confessing her admiration for him. While Jacqui is openly in the market for a man, Valdimir is happily married to Olga, living on a potato farm in Siberia. His package is, to coin a phrase, very-much on ice.

While confessing one’s love for bare-chested, black belt judo champions may easily grab the headlines, the daily grind of government rarely does. But this week, the Abbott government announced hundreds of new measures to cut red tape, attracting plaudits from many quarters.

For too long in this country, governments of both persuasions have added layer upon layer of regulation increasing the cost for business and unnecessarily complicating the lives of families and those in the not for profit sector. But things have now changed. Small business, which was about as popular during the Rudd/Gillard years as a dentist that doesn’t use anaesthetic, is being listened to by a government that is willing to act.

No longer will farmers be required to put green tags on the tail of their cattle when exporting to Europe. No longer will Australians be mandated to have a bulky, costly back-up battery installed in their home when they get connected to the ‘Conrovian’ creation, the NBN. No longer will the 31,000 researchers in Australia’s 39 universities have to spend over 3,000 days’ worth of their time filling out government surveys.

The night after we had introduced into parliament a series of bills for Repeal Day, I went with some of my office colleagues down to the Kingston Hotel for a bite to eat. The ‘Kingo’ as it is colloquially known, is the best place in town for a beer and a steak that you can cook on your own. No penalty rates here, as DIY dining sees a T-Bone the size of a T-Rex run out the door at just over $20. Soldiering over to the grill with my delicious carcass, I came across former Labor minister and karaoke aficionado Craig Emerson, who was grilling his own dinner. ‘What are you working on these days?’ he asked me in a friendly fashion. ‘Cutting red tape,’ I replied. ‘Oh, we did that too,’ he said, exuding a confidence seldom seen in those talking about the record of the Rudd and Gillard years. ‘Really?’ I thought to myself. After introducing 21,000 additional regulations, and being criticised up hill and down dale for having a tin-ear to business, Craig and the Labor faithful still haven’t got the memo. In reality, the only thing I’ve ever seen Craig cut was a medium-rare eye fillet.

I have to say the best illustration of why Cutting Red Tape really matters came from a parliamentary colleague, who told me of a recent experience he had in his electorate. Asked to present an award to the volunteer team of the year at a community event, he expected to be acknowledging the efforts of local members of the volunteer fire service, the surf lifesavers, and parents on the local school council. Instead, the winners were members of the ‘form-filling team’, whose sole job was to help their fellow citizens fill in government forms. What has the world come to, when good community-minded people need to spend their free time assisting others to wander through the maze of government red tape?

The other big story of the week was the passing of Gough. Love him or loathe him, he was undisputedly a giant of the Australian political scene. Having led his party to five elections, he knew both triumph and disaster, and would treat those two imposters just the same. In just three short years at the helm, which has to be said was characterised by economic mismanagement, Gough nevertheless left an indelible mark. Frontbenchers from across the aisle put their political differences aside to recall Whitlam’s ‘Whiticisms’ interspersed with anecdotes and reflections. A telling moment was Tony Abbott’s recounting of an exchange of letters between Menzies and Whitlam. In 1972, Ming offered his congratulations to the new occupant of The Lodge, while Gough returned the good wishes to his comrade, acknowledging the authority and achievements of Menzies in office. A timely reminder of why civility in politics should never be the exception, but the rule.

But before the momentary bipartisanship had a chance to take hold, the parliamentary week ended where it started, with a clash over domestic policy and the issue of budget repair. For Labor, reconciling the tensions over the RET between its Green thumb and blue collar will not go away; and on the Medicare co-payment, Bob Hawke’s policies will hover like a ghost over Shorten’s dispatch box. However, it doesn’t matter if it’s old debates being re-litigated by new voices, one thing is certain in the nation’s capital: no two weeks in Australian politics are ever truly the same.