I am afraid I cannot join in the universal and maudlin distress into which so many of our fellow citizens have been plunged at the end of Barrie Cassidy’s reign at Insiders. It was as if the Queen herself had died. I suppose it is worthwhile having a program like Insiders if it lifts the public interest in politics, but that is about where it ends for me. To elevate it to the level of a major cultural institution is a gross exaggeration. I was asked at the weekend what I thought of the program and I said it was the same as the answer to the question I keep asking: why have I stopped watching it? Because it is boring. It is not a challenge. There is too much agreement and no conflict, which is the essence of politics. Whenever I watched it, I would see virtually the same people on the panel every week and they were all of the same ilk, from the luvvie Left, all furiously agreeing with each other and never disputing except to be the first to denounce anything that did not fit in with their sanctified and monochrome view of the world. They should have their place on the couch, of course, but as they were the sole source of opinion it became and remains tedious, predictable and repetitive. When Andrew Bolt was on, at least there were a few sparks flying and some rival opinions expressed, especially when the acidic David Marr was giving vent to his hatreds, but the show seemingly cannot accommodate a regular contrarian with a different perspective. And then there was Cassidy himself, supposedly a skilful interviewer, but in reality a mumbler who chomped away on his own little speeches and rarely got anything out of a subject that was worth reporting. Of course, the official line was that the great strength of the show was that it set the pace for discussion for the whole week. But if that were true, as it may have been once, why is it that the Monday newspapers rarely even note what was said on Insiders. I only hope that the new helmsman will inject some life into this near-moribund creature before it expires.
Speaking of luvvies, you really have to wonder about the dreamy left-wing lot and their childish behaviour since the federal election. Take Wendy Squires, one of the Mamamia and Age stables who spent election night firing off vile texts about the cretinist electorate. Young Wendy admits her rage and fury came forth as ‘a volcano of vitriol’, such was her outrage at the voters, especially in Queensland. But relax, she has seen the error of her ways. The other side are not actually ‘INSANE’, she now concedes; they could just ‘do with a push’ and she is just the girl to give it to them. From now on, she will simply preach at them until they admit they have been converted. No suggestion is made, of course, that the other side just might be right. She got off to a good start with her new constructive approach by noting that last week the Queen had to ‘shake the small, clammy hands of Donald Trump.’ Please don’t change, Wendy!
But then life is easier for the left intelligentsia. They get a free pass for everything and are quickly forgiven for any momentary lapse of judgment. I was thinking of their good fortune last weekend when the Australian Football League was going through one of its periodic purges of racism which as we all know lurks in every nook and cranny of the nation, no matter how hard it is to find. The instant excuse for the angst this time was the documentary film just made on the Aboriginal ex-footballer Adam Goodes and how he was forced to retire because of racist taunts hurled at him from the sidelines. The AFL hierarchy battled to outdo each other in their remorse for not having stood up for Goodes and done more to defend him, which they certainly should have. And who should be at the forefront of this exercise, dripping with hypocrisy, but football commentator and media celebrity Eddie McGuire, yes, the same McGuire who drew the uplifting parallel between Goodes and King Kong, the giant ape. It followed on from a glittering array of McGuire’s bon mots that started when he defended a spectator who actually called Goodes an ‘ape’. He offered money to have a female journalist drowned. He rejoiced that he could ‘bone’ a female TV host. He let fly with an antisemitic joke on TV. He mocked a double amputee for the way she tossed the coin to start a football match. But, of course, McGuire can do no wrong. The AFL kept him in its bosom and now has the gall to trot him out as an anti-racist advocate. How come? Well, he is part of the Labor party’s royal family, active in the republican movement, his brother a parliamentary secretary in Victoria and Eddie has all the gongs and awards to show it. Just imagine if Peter Dutton had said Goodes would make a nice King Kong! But lefties are always forgiven. I can’t wait to come back and haunt you in my reincarnated capacity as, let’s see, Jane Caro.
I notice that some sections of the media are starting to pick up on the basic objection we raised a few months ago to the so-called Aboriginal Voice to parliament. It is racist. How can it not be, when the only people who can vote for it or stand for election are the members of one race?
It is good to have a few media outlets on board. It will get them organised for the next big issue that will surely come when the Voice is established: claims for vast reparations for the injuries done during the dreaded colonial past.
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