You have to send emails through them so they can check them over, they need to approve your (timed) trips to the bathroom, and heaven forbid you should try and make a change from "what they've always done." It's the very definition of the toxic boss.

Being given a position of authority and power, is an honour, and one that usually requires your boss' trust in your ability to do your job and to do it well. When you are elected to government office and are selected for a cabinet position, you could argue, you bear a greater responsibility, but this also should be held with equal trust from your party leader to be able to handle the task.

Simon Benson and Geoff Chambers' new book, Plagued blew the top off the weekend with a sneak peek at extracts from the book, laying bare former PM Scott Morrison's "shadow government" (to borrow from PM Anthony Albanese). The claim that Mr Morrison secretly swore himself in as the minister for health, minister for resources, and minister for finance, has been confirmed by former Deputy PM, Barnaby Joyce.

It is one thing to have a toxic boss in a private business (which is bad enough), it's quite another, for your PM to have essentially sworn himself in as the secret Australian dictator, taking control of our health system in the midst of a pandemic, our nation's wealth, and our major exports, under cover of darkness.

Allegedly, the reason for these secret swearings-in were to counter-act the concerns raised during the pandemic regarding the Biosecurity Act and how it potentially provided for the minister for health (then Greg Hunt) to be handed control of the country.

And Mr Morrison couldn't have that.

The "it's not my job" syndrome appears to have been turned on its heard in Mr Morrison's former cabinet, with him deciding that they are all his job - and that he couldn't trust the ministers he appointed to do their jobs, or perhaps, he couldn't trust them not to use the power of their position for... corrupt ends? No idea where they'd get that idea from.

Perhaps ironically, Mr Morrison's apparent attempt at counter-acting the potential power-struggle that may emerge, resulted in centralising government power in a presidential approach, presumably, styling Mr Morrison as the (unelected) Trumpesque president.

Every head of state needs a "king-maker", and President Morrison's appears to have been then attorney-general, Christian Porter, who reportedly provided him with advice regarding the use of an administrative instrument to facilitate the secret swearings-in.

Perhaps even more worrying, is President Morrison's blurring of the lines between church and state.

His language use certainly maintains this suggestion, claiming he and Jenny had been called to do "God's work" at a Pentecostal conference, referring to colleagues as "brother" instead of "minister" (presumably, not all of the ministers), "laying hands" on disaster victims for "healing" purposes, and encouraging the congregation to "raise up the spiritual weapons."

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Could it be ... that he thinks he is ... the second coming of the messiah?

Perhaps President Morrison could argue that extraordinary circumstances warrant extraordinary measures, but surely unifying his cabinet under his leadership where he would lean on and support them to help him bring Australia through challenging times like the pandemic, floods, and fires, would have been more effective than seeing these events as foreshadowing the second-coming of Christ, and styling himself as the bringer of salvation.

All this, while shoring up political seats threatened by teal independents through pulling the pin on a nearby oil and gas project, outing his political betrayal and distrust to the actual Resources Minister, doesn't exactly paint him in the image of Jesus.

No, he's definitely not the messiah. He's just a very naughty boy.

And I'm mad as hell. Are you?