Is Scott Morrison a racist? I sincerely doubt it. Is he capable of using a racial slur to advance his own interests? Well…
The jury is out this week on Scummo’s preselection for the seat of Cook on 2007 – the point at which our current troubles began. He’s said to have killed off his opponent’s healthy lead by lobbying hard on the idea that the Libs couldn’t afford to run a Lebanese candidate for the seat, what with the Cronulla riots and all that.. What may be most shocking is the way his party colleagues rolled over so meekly, turning against Michael Towke who originally had 80% of the vote. If Scummo is racist then so is a handy percentage of the Party in the Shire.
Of course, it’s frequently argued that a single racist act or statement makes one, ipso facto, a racist. Or if you’re Robin d’Angelo, merely being white is sufficient. I tend to think this a rather inflammatory distraction from the main issue: the alleged devious, slippery, opportunistic, unethical behaviour raised by Senator Ferriavante-Wells in her fiery Senate speech last week, when she claimed that her own party leader wasn’t fit to be PM. It’s hardly surprising Scummo that said it wasn’t true, but as a confirmed liar, how can we can take his word for anything?
As the week rolled on, Our Leader must have felt his confidence surging back. He got the better of a remarkably ineffective Lee Sales on the 7.30 Report, who let him ramble on, producing misleading statistics and claiming every debacle as a triumph for his government. But he reckoned without an old bloke called Ray, at the Edgeworth Tavern in Newcastle, who disrupted a cosy little photo op by tearing into him about his policies on disability pensions. Suddenly the smirk began to freeze on the PM’s face. I think Ray has made a good case for being Lee’s replacement when she leaves 7.30.
Oh, yes, and then there was the smiliing woman who sidled up to Scummo and congratulated him in being “the worst Prime Minister Australia has ever had,” capturing it as a selfie which has now gone viral. All in all, a pretty good night at the pub.
Meanwhile, Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine has given a huge boost to performance art, with people all over the world lying in the ground in emulation of the corpses in the town in Bucha. There was even one brave artist in Moscow who had himself photographed lying in front of the Kremlin and other prominent locations. This has got to be the most dangerous work of art you’ll hear about this year. It must be one of the very few times when art has really touched a political hot spot. The regime which can brazenly pretend its own atrocities were staged by its opponent, must have zero tolerance for a little play-acting closer to home.
The art column this week is another essay-style piece by editor’s request. This time the topic is commissions, which may not be as wonderful as the Art Gallery of NSW and the National Gallery of Australia would like us to believe. In my experience, most artists are not at all keen on commissions, and for museums to pursue them so eagerly denotes a desire to control the narrative of contemporary art in a way that has a hint of control freakery. Anyway, I’ve laid out my thoughts on the topic in a slightly provocative manner, and now can only wait to see how all these projects actually turn out.
The movie being reviewed is Farewell, Mr. Haffmann, an excellent French drama about the Second World War, with Daniel Auteuil as a Jewish jeweller forced to hide out in his own shop during the Occupation of Paris. The big problem is the asssistant who took over the store, and now seems to be getting too friendly with the Nazis.
As the PM found out this week, it’s not wise to act too friendly with complete strangers