Jackie Lambie is no package deal

Jackie Lambie does a spot-on impression of a bull terrier when she talks tough. Which is all the time, as she is always angry at something whether it be Tony Abbott, tax breaks for millionaires or kale.

Without doubt some people find her a bit scary, loud, bogan, bossy or aggressive. She is no shrinking violet, she’s certainly not waiting around for Edward from Twilight to come and rescue her. Instead she will bear her teeth and kick some butt-ugly butt to get stuff done.

She’s an easy target to lampoon, now that we don’t have Pauline Hansen any more. Jackie Lambie with her 200 hi-vis yellow scarves and her unfiltered and unfettered thought bombs. Her radio interview about her ideal partner being built like Thunder Downunder with a bank balance of Clive Palmer was roundly ridiculed. Her statement that Tony Abbott used his daughters politically was accurate but she was demonised anyway and her other statement about him being a political psychopath was put down by the press corp, they were probably just jealous they hadn’t thought of it.

The press corp don’t really know how to interpret her. They don’t want to be seen to be too sexist, too boganist or too Tasmanian-ist. After all, she knows how to use a gun. They want to be mean, but not too mean, after all she is a PUP, and the media are enthralled by Fat Clive.

So, the media do what they do – pounce on statements about big packages and bank balances, find every utterance she makes about the “puppies”, every barb about Tony Abbott and dress it up as politics when its just run of the mill argey bargey. If she wasn’t Jackie Lambie saying these things, say if it was someone tedious and unknown like say, Darren Chester, it wouldn’t be news.

I get the feeling I don’t fully agree with some of the things Jackie would do if she was Prime Minister for a day. But I do think she should be judged on policies not her sound barks.

And so what if she thinks kale is a carseat or likes big packages, let’s get to policy first before the hi-vis scarves.

Advertisements

Borgen TV series is an open sandwich short of a picnic

The Scandi pollie noir drama, Borgen, showing at the moment on SBS, is more popular than a Kevin Rudd tweet. If you google Borgen criticism you will find virtually none. Which is why it is important I right this wrong today.

Borgen is the most boring, script-by-numbers, humourless piece of TV since Celebrity Masterchef.

Here is a brief recap: in the State of Denmark, female prime minister is elected out of the blue. Despite her talent and dedication she has problems at work. Her husband used to be nice but he gets cheesed (jarlsberged) off because she is prime minister and he’s not so he takes up with younger model blond who her kids really like. Then cut to shot of prime minister coming home to an empty house and feeling overwhelmed by the housework and cooking she still has to do.

Queue subplot: her media advisor has the hots for an allegedly hard-hitting hot journo but they have the onscreen chemistry of a toothpaste commercial.

Here are some questions I have about Borgen:

– Why is the Prime Minister doing her own housework, cooking and laundry?

– Why is it so hard for the Prime Minister to source childcare?

– Why is there no security at her house?

– Who wrote this appalling script?

Sure, a female prime minister is still relatively new TV. Sure Denmark is a politically correct wonderland with great design, furniture and tans, but it not in the business of comedy. (Which also explains Princess Mary). Be that as it may, there is no escaping the fact that this is humourless, dry and strangely unbelievable TV.

Borgen is so dull it makes televised golf look like Gone with the Wind. If you want political intrigue, a gripping storyline, sexual tension, sexual politics and a epic revenge story, look no further than Canberra.

Tony Abbott’s phone call to ABC’s MD

We have been sent a secret tape exposing Tony Abbott’s call to Mark Scott, Managing Director of the ABC, on Kerry O’Brien’s Replacement.

Tony: Mate, Tony here.

Mark Scott: Hello Tony.

Tony: Look mate, just wanted to give you some advice on who to replace Red Kerry.

Mark Scott: Well, thank you for your interest but we have a recruitment process in place.

Tony: Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard about such words. But they’re just what’s written down. Let me give you some names.

Mark Scott: That’s not how it works Tony.

Tony: People keep saying that, but um, ah, see the only people you can really trust are those carefully scripted ones. I’m thinking perhaps Julie Bishop.

Mark Scott: She already has a job Tony.

Tony: Oh yeah, I forgot she’s still here. Turnbull.

Brian Johns: Already got a job.

Tony: Yeah, but that’s not how the Liberal Party works. John Howard always taught me it’s better to have these processes carefully scripted with the end in mind, and an end for Malcolm Turnbull would be good.

Mark Scott:  We can’t show Malcolm Turnball’s end on TV.

Tony: Huh? Oh yeah, his end is still scarred from my sound bite marks on it. Um, what about Piers Akerman. I know he doesn’t have a face for TV, but a little nip, tuck and Bob’s your ankle.

Mark Scott: Already got a job. Besides we don’t employ body parts.

Tony: But I’m leader of the next baton change government. Come on, give me a chance, I won’t go to bed at all tonight just to prove how much I want it. I’ll even jog to your house just to prove how much it means to me. Aw come on.

Mark Scott: Tony you know it doesn’t work like that. We have a recruitment process in place. We’re looking for informed, hardhitting journalists with years of experience to bring politicians to account.

Tony: OK, I getcha. Kerrie-Anne. I can work with her, I know she’s got the hots for Peter Costello, dancing the tango on national tv, I mean come on. I never understood what she saw in that snivelly little crybaby. But I can impress her with my own special dance of the spangled smugglers.

Sometime in 2011 …

Maxime McKew: Hello and welcome to the program. Now to my first guest, Tony Abbott, Leader of the Opposition. Remember in 2010 you called me a pantsuit pinko, wet, washed-up Labor stooge faceless frauline?

Tony: um, ah, you know … you can only trust those carefully scripted prepared …

Maxime: (Barking orders)

Cameras: Fire! Fire!  Aim for the mouth.

Julia and the Image Consultant

In an exclusive to this blog, we take you live into the image consultants boudoir, where Prime Minister Gillard is given image and grooming advice.

Image consultant: Now Julia, I really like the white lady funeral look, but we need more pearls,

Julia: Why?

Consultant: Well we need to make you into Mrs North Shore.

Julia: But they’re all safe liberal seats. I mean Maxine can outpearl me any day but she’s no match for a liberal tennis player.

Consultant: But we want you to look a little less boganette. And that means one thing: less bling.

Julia: So less bling, more string. I think I can manage that.

Consultant: Good. Now, let’s accessorise those steely Machiavellian eyes.

Julia: Steady. Just because I happen to have excellent knife skills is no reason to be rude.

Consultant: Hold on darls, we’ll talk combat weaponry in a minny. But let’s get some accessories going to represent the glorious country we have in some of marginal seats.

Julia: I just need a few things to go with my White Lady Pantsuits.

Consultant: Darls, we can do better. I’m thinking croc handbag from Bob Katter’s croc farm.

Julia: He has a croc farm?

Consultant: Why do you think he needs all those bananas? And Tony Windsor, Tamworth. I thinking country musak, perhaps a guitar, display your country cred.

Julia: I don’t have any country cred. I’m from Altona. I’m not lugging a guitar around.

Consultant: It’s just a light one, you won’t notice it after a while. And as for Port Macquarie, well it’s a shame, between you and me, Jules that you can’t just carry around that yummy Mr Oakeshott. I mean, does he work out or what?

Julia: That would be stalking. Besides he’s married.

Consultant: Well, I’m thinking given he’s a surfy kayaker, connected to the water and all that, blonde streaks, a dab of fake tan.

Julia: But I’m peaches and cream.

Consultant: Darls, peaches and scream more like it. No, it would be tasteful. Just a seachange shade of something a little beachfrontage. You’ll love it, truly. Hand me that spraycan darls. Besides that nice Tony Abbott is a bit of a surfy dude isn’t he. If you can’t get Oakeshott, you’ll be in with a chance with him.

Julia: (to herself) where’s my nail file. A well-aimed blow to the temples should do it.

Bob Katter’s thought bubble on stable government

Dear Jules,

Mate, I know I supported the other team, but I can change sides. But I can assure you I have the nation’s interests at heart, so here are a few thoughts on what you can do for Far North Queensland.

Some of these ideas are top secret, so keep them under your hat. I know I did. Don’t share them with that Bob Brown, I know he fancies me and I want to make it quite clear it can never happen. At least not in my electorate. So, here they are:

  • Since we’re on the subject of Bob Brown, I’m not happy what Coles and Woolworths have on the shelves. I walked down the aisle of Cloncurry Woolworths and what did I see but chickpeas and chai tea. I mean, come on, what do they think Far North Queensland is – Woodstock. Can you smash Coles and Woolworths, send them to hell and then get them to take this hippy shit off the shelves by the weekend.
  • Climate change – the only climate that is changing is the dual control in the front seat of my 4wd hummer I use for bilbi shooting expeditions. Tony Abbott quoted me correctly when he said climate change is crap, but I go further. It’s absolute crap. Don’t let those goons in the Greens convince you otherwise. Bob Brown is gay.
  • I’ve noticed Jules that you do like your pantsuit.  Now I don’t normally comment on a sheila’s outfit, but the pantsuit is a step too far. The top dog – now don’ take this the wrong way – should be wearing something you could walk down the main street of Cloncurry in, a fetching camo twin set perhaps?
  • Which brings me to bananas. Now this is serious. I get around four phone calls a week from distressed bananas, bananacide is rampant throughout FNQ and no government has ever done anything. It’s about survival of the banana. I mean we’re the ones who have to end up eating em. Please explain.

So Jules, these are my ideas for a stable government. Let’s meet next week and discuss. I’ll bring the banana cake. I’ve been trying a few different icing recipes, I think the lemon rind works a treat.  Don’t invite Bob Brown.

Yours faithfully,

Bobkat  B.O (Bachelor of Oneology); M.U.T. FNQ (Member of University of Technology FNQ)

From the negotiation room

We take you behind the scenes in the negotiation stage with the three independents:

Julia: Welcome fine country gentlemen. Can I get you a cup of tea?

Katter: Yes thanks luv. But no NBN

Julia: But I thought you wanted an NBN?

Katter: No bloody nutrisweet. Queensland sugar for me. That’s what’s wrong with you Coles Woolworths dictatorship, it leaves out Queensland sugar, I can assure you. I mean let’s talk about farmers going to the wall, every week I get a call from …

Julia: Oh, Bob, I’ll come to you very soon.  I just want to offer Tony and Rob something to drink too.

Tony: Cup of tea thanks Julia.

Julia: And a few Northern Tablelands scones.

Tony: Thanks Julia.

Rob: And can I have a cup of coffee made by our own regional coffee plantation in Port Macquarie. Oh gees, it would be good if they could expand.

Julia: Of course Rob, and I know you’re a bit of a kayaker. Boy do I have a deal for you. What about we form a kayak circle of trust around Australia to symbolise our new collegial parliamentary love in. It’d be great, of course we’d need to build an entirely new kayak industry in say, oh I dunno, Port Macquarie industrial area?

Rob: Sweet. Say Julia this regional coffee tastes fantastic, you do a good brew.

Tony: Brew ha ha. What about me?

Katter: Another lump of  Queensland sugar thanks luv, now Jules, let’s talk food security. I want a slice of pineappple upside down cake, a couple of lamos, I’ll pinch one of Tony’s scones. No, no, hear me out, I’ve had plenty of my stuff pinched I can tell you and some of that chocolate macademia nut cake stuff too.

Julia: Of course, Bobkat no problem.

Katter: Core, this chocolate stuff’s pretty good

Julia: It was cooked by the Greens for our agreement after party, cooked with love as they say.

Katter: What’s that luv?

Tony: Enough about Bob. I’ve got a big hat too, I just don’t show off about it all the time. What about me?  Where’s my pork barrell?

Julia: Aw don’t be like that Tony, if I was really pork barrelling I’d give you Tasmania.

Katter: Ok, can I have that too? Flo, bride of Joh, is down there, need to shore up my pumpkin scone food security.

Movies with no ending

movies with no ending

What is it about movies with no endings? I’m realy sick of investing 2 hours and $10 of my life getting emotionally invested, go through the whole illness, divorce, tough college years, brush with the mob, court case, pregnancy scare, car chase through Athens and nuclear terrorist threat only to have some half-arsed ending, where you’re not really sure what happened.

Like many people, I thought this was a trendy new cinematic device, meant to signify the ambiguity of the character’s angst continuum.  Actually I think it’s because they’ve run out of money to pay the scriptwriters for the final scene, so they thought, what the hell we’ll just do a fade out to confusing music, but actually it seems this wishy washy non-ending ending has been around for yonks. On the weekend I saw Three Days of the Condor, and even Robert Redford in 70’s bodyshirt in his prime, couldn’t take away that horrible feeling that tastes like No Ending.

I for one am sick of it. If there is no ending – tell us at the beginning. Or have a rating system. Like there is for PG, MA have NEWT – No Ending Was Told or F.O. Finale Off.

Time is precious, and stories are there for telling, not weaselling out of and saying it’s for the audience for decide. No, it’s not. That’s called theatre sports where the audience decides.

Before I spend my $7 I want an ending baby.