Contortionism is a useful skill for politicians.
They are expected to be dignified and down-to-earth, masonically loyal and fiercely independent, comfortable behind the lectern at a G20 meeting and in the armchair on the set of Rove. They can end up in knots and suffer severe muscle spasms.
They are compelled to offer up snappy sound bites and photo opportunities to feed the beast. Alias the stunt a long-standing stable of politics. Consider the ''bread and circuses'' of Ancient Rome.
Stunts can range from the devilishly clever to the completely naff a bit like Nana doing the chicken dance at your 21st birthday party after she's had too many shandies.
The Federal Government and Opposition have ratcheted up their battle for the hearts, minds and bitumen of electorates, launching rival trucks this week.
Opposition Leader Malcolm Turnbull unveiled the ''debt truck'', reviving a tactic that the Liberals had successfully used against the Keating government in 1996 campaign.
''Labor's reckless spending and debt binge is putting a hand brake on our recovery from this economic downturn. The biggest economic challenge facing Australia now is this growing level of debt that [Prime Minister] Kevin Rudd is running up,'' Turnbull said.
The ''debt truck'' features a billboard that states ''Labor's Debt Bombshell. Australians are now paying the price for Labor's reckless spending''. It features the image of a ''bomb with "$315 billion'' emblazoned across device, which could be straight out of the arsenal of Wylie Coyote from Looney Tunes.
Hours later Financial Services Minister Chris Bowen countered with the ''supporting jobs truck'' parked on Turnbull's home turf. The billboard proclaimed ''Australia has the lowest debt level of any major economy''. ''So the facts of the matter are that Australia's stimulus package is working and that we have an appropriate and prudent level of debt,'' Bowen said.
What next? Will the Australian Greens roll-out the ''renewable energy target truck'' powered by solar-charged batteries? Will Independent Senator Nick Xenophon opt for a ''water truck'' driven beside the dry beds of the Murray Darling? Will Family First Senator Steve Fielding have a truck parked between ''two rocks and a hard place''?
Turnbull denied the ''debt truck'' was a stunt designed to bolster his leadership. Bowen said the truck is a tool for ''modern political engagement''. ''This is a serious thing. Our economic growth rate, our unemployment rate, but it can be communicated in ways other than set-piece, formal speeches. It can be communicated through things like this truck,'' Bowen said.
Forgive the pun. Despite the truckloads of rhetoric, it's slogan democracy that doesn't raise the level of political debate nor explore the nuances of the complex economic problems confronting this country. But stunts can work to varying degrees. Australians have seen some memorable ones in recent times.
Remember in 1987 when then Labor Prime Minister Bob Hawke declared, ''We set ourselves this first goal by 1990 no Australian child will be living in poverty.''?
Hawke the third-longest serving prime minister probably meant it at the time. But the statement can be called a sound-bite stunt with the passage of time.
At the less-serious end of the scale, then Australian Democrats leader Andrew Bartlett made a bungee jump in the 2004 election campaign to highlight the public liability crisis that was ''making life impossible'' for many community organisations and tourism operators. But it became a metaphor for the party's performance at the ballot box.
Last year Opposition MPs brought a ''cardboard Kevin'' into the House of Representatives' chamber to protest over the new Friday sitting days. They demanded that ministers front-up for Question Time and votes on the day set aside for backbenchers' business. The extra sitting day was axed soon after.
Fielding is the maestro of the stunt, donning a drink bottle costume to promote his anti-litter proposal, pushing around a miniature shopping trolley packed with groceries to highlight the rising cost of living and lugging around a jerry can to emphasise the impact of petrol prices on families' budgets. Last year Fielding joined others in taking off their shirts in Melbourne's CBD to demand an increase in the pension.
Based on his performance in state politics, Xenophon was billed as a rival for Fielding in the stunt stakes before the Independent took his seat in the Senate. But Xenophon has toned it down, emerging as a serious powerbroker in the upper house.
New York Times columnist David Brooks has bemoaned the loss of the dignity code in politics and wider society.
''We can all list the causes of its demise,'' according to Brooks.
''First, there is capitalism. We are all encouraged to become managers of our own brand, to do self-promoting end zone dances to broadcast our own talents. Second, there is the cult of naturalism. We are all encouraged to discard artifice and repression and to instead liberate our own feelings. Third, there is charismatic evangelism with its penchant for public confession. Fourth, there is radical egalitarianism and its hostility to aristocratic manners.''
The arguments ring true in Australia. We have the Kevin-07 brand, celebrate prime ministerial tears sparked by sporting victories and encourage our leaders to share their back stories.
The ''tall poppy syndrome'' is seen as a national affliction. Turnbull is cast as the silvertail out-of-touch with the ordinary folk. Rudd is ridiculed for switching between turgid bureaucratic language and ockerisms such as ''fair shake of the sauce bottle'' to suit the audience.
Stunts can be useful tools to reach out to people usually uninterested in politics and to boost the perpetrator's profile because we can all be a bit like magpies easily distracted by bright, shiny things. A separate issue is whether stunts add or detract from debates about the serious problems facing the country. It is highly likely that the latter is true.
Danielle Cronin is Political Correspondent.