Stuck in a Rudd

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Queenslanders have had a good week.

Not only did their team win the second State of Origin, their man won the prime ministerial post…back. Some say that both were foregone conclusions, and they are right though few could have predicted how emphatic the wins would be.  But that is not all they had in common; both were in a sense farces: in the case of State of Origin, the sin binning of four players (two from either side to even it up) was ludicrous and, if not addressed, could dilute the great game—a game which incidentally is perhaps more important to Queensland than Kevin Rudd. And Kevin Rudd’s win also had an element of farce about it—or at least very poor theatre. The Ruddless government of Julia Gillard never quite managed to navigate its way through the cauldronian conundrum—for conundrum it is—of Australian political life, particularly Labour life. Voters fled and the backroom contrived and connived. With a massive election and limousine loss looming something—someone—had to go. Gillard had to go, and she did. Ousted. It was predictable and understandable, but replacing her with someone who had already been there done that is questionable. So is how long Kevin Rudd will be there.

But somehow there has been something lost in the subsequent media coverage. Have a look at this series of headlines:

·      Was Julia Gillard a 'real' female prime minister, or a leader who was female?

·      Gillard's tumultuous term showed difficulties women face in top job

·      Gillard right to play gender card

·      Was Gillard a 'real' female PM?

There are other headlines of course but those I have selected are representative of a fairly large group focussing on two things, that Julia Gillard was female and the part that (may) have played in her defeat. That is disquieting because of what it says of Australian misogyny. When “our” Helen Clark was ousted there was nary a word about her gender—or lack of. Nor in Britain with Margaret Thatcher. Nor even in Pakistan with Benazir Bhutto. Yet in Australia gender is the first thing they point to when their first female prime minister is thrown out of office. There are even headlines saying that (Julia Gillard) has destroyed all chances of a woman becoming prime minister for a long time to come.
Was Julia Gillard simply an unfortunate experiment then?
In Australia, it seems so.

Or will Australians confound us all again and go the other way, so to speak?

Having tried a woman, will they now give a gay a go?

Speedos, anyone?

Notes from a Larg(ish) Island--with apologies to Bill Bryson

Last week I had the pleasure, and I will add privilege, of spending two days on Great Barrier Island, New Zealand’s fourth largest island and the largest of Auckland’s Hauraki Gulf. The island is a paradox to me: I had heard a lot of it but knew nothing about it. What did I know? The odd murder, a disappearance or two, a brutal kidnapping. Nothing you wouldn’t find on the Mainland but more acute on a smallish island with a permanent population of fewer than 1000. So Fryday went there with a sense of adventure, and adventure it was from beginning to end—and end that will never end as the memories live on.  This is one of the most beautiful places in New Zealand and one of the laziest most relaxing I have been to. Even a day on the island seems longer as if each day is reluctant to depart--something it shares with at least one of the island’s two airlines but that is a story for another time. And then there are the people—the islanders—in no hurry to embrace much that is modern and in no hurry at all to embrace Auckland but will welcome Aucklanders. And that makes a refreshing change from some of the places I visit. And a special one. Don’t get me wrong; many of the people in many of the places Fryday visits in the course of work are “special.” But not like Great Barrier. Despite my predictions and predilections there was not a banjo to be heard. Not one.

Wogistan: The Dunne Deal

Game of Throws

This week’s State of Origin match from Sydney was a hit and not miss affair. Paul Gallen’s classic one-two combination on Nate Myles just before half time is exempla. Neither punch missed; but also neither punch had a lasting effect, on or off the field. Nor will the criticism of it by hypocritical rugbyites, wowsers and other talk-back callers who claim this as “yet another” example of rugby league brutality. That criticism will subside and the game will continue. The reason why is that fights, brutal and otherwise, are part of the game—most games in most codes—and they do far less damage and even some good on the playing field than if elsewhere (uncontrolled) in society. I learnt to box as part of strength training in my days of playing rugby league. The only times I actually used that skill—and skill it is—were on the footie field. My fights were frequent but none but one had any lasting effect beyond the beer at the end of the game. If anything, they gave me the confidence to deal with other matters in my life then and now. So criticise the fight of Wednesday night all you like. That is your right. But be aware that most are unaware and don’t care. I certainly don’t. Besides and with age as a constant companion you learn, and I have learnt sometimes to my cost and never to my credit, that there are far more devastating ways of damaging a person than anything Paul Gallen threw at Nate Myles. That is the greater dismay.