Spending my weekends being abused by kids and their parents has taught me something about what we accept as leadership.
Another Monday, another Newspoll, another brief murmur of the needle, and think-pieces hacked out in an effort to make us feel something. However, lessons on this morning remain the same as the last one. This, again, is a passing fancy, a carrot to distract us from the whip.
— Peter van Onselen (@vanOnselenP) April 28, 2019
Last night, the peculiar genius of our Lego Masters was, in reality, a blocky hackneyed vehicle to carry Clive Palmer, as I counted five of his ads over the hour. It’s safe to assume that we know who they are. Clive Palmer is a few bricks short, as he has ad money to advance himself, but not pay his workers. Scott Morrison is a man who openly touts both of his religions, the Pentecostal Church and the Cronulla Sharks. We know that Bill Shorten is such a non-threat that the opposition can openly attempt to gain votes for them. Peter Dutton is the devil, but not a monster. Tony Abbott is giving away free copies of The Daily Telegraph to cling on, and Bob Brown has chained himself to a handful of like-minded placard wobblers to stop the development of mega-mine Adani.
Oh, and this:
Scott Morrison is having an election rally and has *just said* that there is “no greater Prime Minister than John Howard.
— Van Badham (@vanbadham) April 28, 2019
What we really don’t know, is us. The brilliance of being part of a mob—in this case, the electorate—is that it automatically garners you the ability of wilful ignorance. You can claim the other, your unknown opponent, is entirely against you. You don’t know them, but you know who they vote for, so, thusly, you know them. Similarly, you assume that those who vote the same way as you, are you. It’s a different hand, but the grip on the democracy sausage is a similar one.
I’m what you’d call an outsider, a weirdo, someone who doesn’t fit. In layman’s, I’m a social sports referee. Thus, I spend my free time being abused by your children on the uncut suburban ovals of Greater Sydney. I’m also abused by you, chased by dogs, and possess a pair of eyes to not be met. Why would you? In this country, the referee is either a wanker, blind or, in certain postcodes, of a sexual preference deemed to be incorrect.
However, like most loners, I do tend to notice things. I notice you; the tableau is the same throughout. I see an identical mass, all looking to play out their own failures through new opportunity. Similarly, I see a steadfast resolution to what you believe as “tradition”—the repetition of an act that you didn’t start, or question, so you continue to allow your progeny to be mildly concussed on a weekly basis, because it happened to you.
Also on The Big Smoke
Tradition playing against opportunity is a theme in this election. We have a guy who presents himself as the well-meaning, albeit dorky dad. The one who is a bit off, but whose heart is in the right place. A cad masquerading as a driveway hoser. The other, presenting himself as the empathetic type, despite the obvious fact that he’s hiding apathy under a patchwork blanket of meaningful nods and soundbytes. He took a stand against Murdoch, but not on Manus. A “pick your battles” type.
Both of these types play out on the field, emanating from the sideline. And while they present differently, they will both approach you in the carpark, pulses raised, questioning what you’ve done to x and why. It’s the horseshoe theory; both types are polar opposites united by the perceived slight on their version of the future. Often, they’ll gang up on you. The thing wrong with this country, I believe, is a lack of responsibility, an inability to see the fates play out, and accept ones part in that.
Shit, as they say, rolls downhill. We learn from our higher examples. If our elected officials lie, snipe and gleefully knife each other in the back when things look grim, the same is done by the adults, and in turn, their kids.
The football field of yesterday is but a macro example of the national problem in its totality this morning. We’re a nation of gripers, crippled by a lack of vision, an ability to put things in the proper perspective, and indeed, own up to our mistakes. The reason why the country is so very fucked, is not the fault of the elected, but rather those who have elected them. Change starts at home. Be the example you want to set. Claiming that authority figures are lousy without explaining why, and how come, is exactly why those of the lunatic fringe are now having a legitimate say in our future.
As I tell your kids, think before you respond, because this is for your benefit, not mine.