The matter of where they will get their fix when the Silly is shuttered is pressing. But there is hope of relief, as it has long seemed that Butch's columns are written not with the ink of coherence but as a consequence of inscribing random thoughts on little bits of paper and plucking them in no particular order from a hat. If buffs were to collect his columns and slice and dice them, they could assemble fresh doses of Butchalalia every single day of the week.
To demonstrate that there would be no erosion of tone and substance from such a method, The Professor has this very morning taken today's offering and re-arranged the paragraphs in random order. It even works for the headline. See if you can tell the amalgam from the original:
Magnificent When A Guard Drops Her PM
From now
on, disabled Australians and their families will find their burdens lighter,
their hopes brighter. In this turbulent political year, Gillard somehow
discovered in us what Abraham Lincoln so memorably described as "the
better angels of our nature".
"Great
morning tea with Snake Gully Shire councillors," they say. "Very much
looking forward to tonight's dinner and folkloric performance to welcome the
visiting Archimandrite of Antioch." Often there is a grainy photo of the
happy knees-up.
I speak
with authority. The north shore's bosky woods and grassy glades were my
childhood playground. I attained high rank as a leader of the Seagull Patrol in
the 1st Lindfield Scout Troop, and I was a prefect at Barker College (until an
unfortunate Muck-Up Day incident saw me drummed out of that band of brothers).
I nearly rolled an MGA 1600 on Eastern Arterial Road, Killara, in 1964. Later,
my two elder children grew up in Turramurra. So, although politically I am a
class traitor and I've moved thankfully away, I still claim cred …
Imagine
my surprise when legions of the Twitterati reported back that, not long ago,
Devine herself had upset the punters by accusing a gay tweeter of
"rogering gerbils". It's a funny old world, as dear Lady Thatcher
used to say.
How
churlish. It was that spirit - or lack of it - which led the opposition Whip
Warren Entsch to deny a pair to a Labor MP wanting to go home to Sydney on
Thursday to care for her sick child. Politics, politics, always politics.
Entsch was eventually persuaded to back off, but not before he had sniffed
that: ''People's obligation in the first instance is to be in this
Parliament.''
But,
deary me, the place has changed. When I was living there some 20 years ago, a
local matron knocked on the front door one evening, blue-rinse awry, fear in
her eyes, panic in her voice. Concerned, I invited her in.
''The
people who've gathered here today from around the country to witness this
debate know what this means,'' she croaked.
It's when
she drops her guard that she's magnificent. Humanity, passion and decency shine
through. So it was on Wednesday, when she introduced the DisabilityCare bill to
Parliament in a tide of emotion, tears welling, voice choking. Between sobs she
spoke well and her words deserve to be remembered:
"Mr
Carlton, you're in the media - there's something you should know," she
quavered. "We must do something. The Chinese have moved into the street!”
Those
gathered did not include the opposition, where the green leather benches were
shamefully empty. Yes, the Coalition and its leader support national disability
insurance; but in an election year it would not do to be too enthusiastic about
a Labor reform, apparently.
Julia
Gillard is so much better when not trying. Stuck behind a lectern, droning away
at some boilerplate speech cranked out by her office gnomes, she is cold and
remote, more than a bit prissy. Groping for prime ministerial gravitas, she
comes across all head girl on speech day.
A
fortnight in, the Twitterverse continues to reveal its mysteries to me. There
was something of a spat between myself and the News Ltd columnist Miranda
Devine a week ago when I tweeted a joke about her claim that she'd been
"embedded" with the riot squad.
That
done, we turn to a more fundamental question Australians must confront: where
and what is Sydney's north shore? This has been bothering Herald
readers, or some of them, on the letters page all week.
Prime
ministers are ever conscious of their place in history. Gillard has been
viciously assailed by her enemies, not least by those in her own party. Few
prime ministers have been so abused, not even Gough and Malcolm back in the
days of rage.
The most
prolific of all is @Colvinius, who is Mark Colvin, host of ABC radio's PM.
He scours the world's media and digests it for his 35,000 followers. The
funniest I've encountered is the Melbourne writer and comedian, @benpobjie, who
rattles off a fusillade of one-liners.
''DisabilityCare
Australia starts in seven weeks, and there will be no turning back.''
Politicians
tweet about the good works they perform, keen to tell the world of their
dutiful attendance at worthy civic functions and obscure ethnic frolics.
@Malcolm_Turnbull and @KRuddMP are assiduous at this, as you would expect.
The north
shore begins at Boundary Street, Roseville. It runs up the Pacific Highway and
the railway line to Wahroonga and not a metre more. The posher side stops two
kilometres east of the line, but most definitely does not include St Ives.
People west of the line get in, but only if they're within a kilometre of their
local station. And that's that.
It was
obvious, tacky and silly, I admit. I took it down and apologised. Shocked, The
Australian put me on page three last Saturday, and her Melbourne colleague
Andrew Bolt, the Rinehart Cowboy, went nuts as well.
But the
future will acknowledge her commitment of the nation to care for its disabled
is a towering Labor landmark on the road to social justice, in every way as
significant as the basic wage, the aged pension, the 40-hour week, Medicare and
Mabo. And take a bow, Bill Shorten, for bolting the policy together.
But the
absolute trump is @ShockJockCoach. I haven't a clue who that might be but, as
the name suggests, each morning he or she tweets a running commentary on the
wretched excesses of Alan Jones and Ray Hadley. It's not just hilarious ; it's
a great national service.
Here is
the correct answer, which I never tire of giving: if you have to ask, you've
got no business being there. They don't want you in Warrawee and Turramurra,
Pymble and Roseville. You can christen your children Hamish and Sophie and book
them into Knox and Abbotsleigh; you can acquire the mandatory golden retriever,
and the Volvo XC90, and the Federation bungalow with the tennis court, but
still they'll see through you. Honestly, you'd be happier in Frenchs Forest.
There you go, Butch buffs. It's as easy as a former Slater & Gordon union lawyer.
Indolent says:
ReplyDeleteBUTCH ROCKS & NEARLY ROLLS
Today's column describes a very exiting event that took place in the life of the young Butch.
"I nearly rolled an MGA 1600 on Eastern Arterial Road, Killara, in 1964." Carlton tells his readers.
This sentence contains a level of detail not usually found in his other works. The make and model of the vehicle is included to ensure the reader understands he was/is a cool dude and the full address and the year of the event is provided for authenticity just in case anyone thinks he is making it all up. Alas, he reverts to the subjective when he uses the phrase 'nearly rolled'. Butch we are told, once nearly rolled a car back in 1964. A proper journo would have rolled that car. I doubt that he even got close. It could also be said that Butch once nearly wrote a coherent column or that he was once nearly a successful jock.
I wonder if he owns a car these days. If he does, I hope it's a small one. The thought of Butch behind the wheel of a large automobile deeply disturbs me.
Well, what with his constant ravings about speed cameras and speeding fines being 'revenue raising' plus his constant, 30-year liking for Tired and Emotional states, I suspect that he gave up cars (and driving) years ago.
Delete"We must do something. The Chinese have moved into the street!"
ReplyDeleteThis coming from a man who currently lives in the most white-bread region of Sydney that can be found -- the upper northern beaches.
The 18yo Butch's access to an MGA 1600 (1959-62) in 1964 reveals a degree of poshness I never expected from a devoted Labor man. Is our man Mike yet another of the privileged toffs, like Phillip Adams, who wears his socialism like a fashion accessory.
ReplyDelete"Imagine my surprise when legions of the Twitterati reported back that, not long ago, Devine herself had upset the punters by accusing a gay tweeter of 'rogering gerbils'."
ReplyDeleteOkay, so help me out here. Maybe I'm doing something wrong, but when I do a twitter search for all the legions of Twitterati who tweeted Our Butch about gerbils, I only come up with...... two?
No doubt Butch was belting down the road with a buxom broad listening to the Beach Boys.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, Perfessor. I tried. Rearranged or not, the idea that a man around sixty is still producing such emotionally stunted undergraduate zombia is not only repellent, but quite sad.
ReplyDeleteCarlton regales:
ReplyDelete''DisabilityCare Australia starts in seven weeks, and there will be no turning back.''
Costello says it is more like seven years!!!!
She should know better; it's "rogering with gerbils".
ReplyDeleteCheers
I would have to agree with everything Butch says here. Wonderful elocution that. Tremendously convincing. It really was silly, and he admits it.
ReplyDeleteYes, I see, Prof. It does make perfect sense, doesn't it? Like re-arranging musical notes. The North Shore upbringing and the blue rinse and the four decades old in-group and she's magnificent when she drops her guard, isn't she great, and Andrew Bolt, and Malcolm Turnbull, and the medja and all.
ReplyDeleteI think Fairfax readers only read in memes. Their brains go click, click, and context matters not. You demonstrate well how this audience can be endlessly titillated by verbal juggling of antedated stuff to give the same anachronistic sense of wondrous satisfaction that it has always aroused. There is no need for any quality journalism any more. It is already written. Just as Allah says.
Being a bit old, I was slow to realise what has been happening at the SMH.
ReplyDeleteClearly, Carlton has not not been writing for years, his columns have been constucted from his earlier "works", as it were.
Probably by a young intern, who is a product of child led learning, so fashionable today.