Suddenly the Rudd for PM fiasco makes sense. One of the key plotters was Sam Dastyari, the NSW ALP general secretary and one of the party’s most spectacular lightweights.
His part in the abortive back-stabbing farce was revealed by Peter Hartcher in Saturday’s Sydney Morning Herald. As Hartcher doubles as unofficial public relations officer for K Rudd, the story deserves to be believed.
“The core group comprised Minister for Tertiary Education Chris Bowen, chief government whip Joel Fitzgibbon, Minister for Human Services Kim Carr, and from outside the parliamentary wing, the general secretary of the NSW branch of Labor Sam Dastyari,” Hartcher wrote.
“Less active, yet important, were Minister for Transport and leader of the government in the House Anthony Albanese and Minister for Resources Martin Ferguson.”
For more than two years the opinion polls have been telling the ALP caucus in Canberra that the voters prefer Rudd to Gillard.
In February 2012 Rudd challenged and was defeated 71 to 31. It was tantamount to the Caucus telling the voters: “Piss off, we know best. We’re sticking with Julia.”
But Rudd didn’t go away. In the polls, he remained favourite to replace Gillard.
Last Friday Simon Crean swallowed his intense dislike of Rudd to call on Gillard to face a spill. He did it for the sake of the Labor Party.
It cost the former Labor leader his job. To add to Crean’s misery, Rudd dingoed the challenge and, in the absence of an opponent, Gillard was re-elected unanimously.
Rudd is a busted flush who is now universally despised by his parliamentary colleagues. The leadership issue appears to be over, dead, buried and kaput.
Will Gillard gain any points for facing down the rats in the ranks? The next polls will answer that question.
Meanwhile, guess who is running Labor’s re-election campaign in NSW? Sam Dastyari.
Memo to NRL: please change “The Indigenous”
The rugby league season kicked off on February 9 at Brisbane’s Suncorp Stadium with a game between the NRL Indigenous All Stars and the NRL All Stars.
Channel Nine commentators led by Ray “Rabbits” Warren spent the night shouting: “And here comes the Indigenous – they’ve broken the line – the Indigenous have gone in for another try. This is turning into a triumph for the Indigenous. What a night for the Indigenous.”
Wally Lewis, Andrew Johns and the others Nine spruikers said the same thing: “The Indigenous have come tonight to make a statement. What a victory this is turning into for the Indigenous.”
By the time the broadcast ended at 10pm I had heard quite enough of “the Indigenous”.
The winners by 32-6 were the blackfellas. The koori team won easily.
Surely we should ask Preston Campbell, the Aborigine from Tingha who is the driving force behind the contest, to come up with the name for the all-black team.
Or organise a naming competition with all the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities.
For my money “the Indigenous” is a patronising mouthful which conveys political correctness but little else.
News Ltd’s Oz czar is a mega-drongo
Kim Williams, CEO of Rupert Murdoch’s News Ltd, was the leading spokesman for the mainstream media proprietors in the battle against the Gillard Government’s failed media laws.
When the Sydney Daily Telegraph depicted Communications Minister Stephen Conroy as Stalin and compared him to Mao, Robert Mugabe and other dictators, Williams took to the airwaves to defend the paper’s editorial stance.
His arguments were puerile – “Do you think that the Telegraph believes Conroy is Stalin? It is simply a robust response in a robust debate.”
Taking a lead from Williams, I would like to say that I believe Williams is an androgynous suckhole.
He has spent his entire career sucking up to wealthy and powerful figures from a position not a million miles from their lower intestine.
Williams is the ultimate courtesan (crawler?) who will do anything for his masters. They pay him huge truckloads of money to live like a prince and he uses his wily skills to deliver outcomes that will suit his masters.
If he didn’t have the name Rupert Murdoch stencilled on his bum he would be a colossal and slightly eccentric nobody. He doesn’t throw his own weight around because he is a vacuous dolt; he throws Rupert’s weight around.
On television he looks like a blanched swamp reptile that has climbed into the sunlight for the first time: his owl-like eyes blinking to focus on the mysterious world around him where he has no friends and few supporters.
At last week’s Senate hearings Williams looked as if he needed a big bowl of spinach and some vitamin supplements. While Kerry Packer cowed the Hon. senators during his appearance before them in 1991 and gained their awe and respect, Williams drew pity.
“Who is this weird guy?” they asked collectively. “And why has Murdoch hired him? The old boy must be losing his grip.”
In a speech to media heavyweights Williams described Senator Conroy’s take on the media laws as “bollocks” thus descending to the level of discourse made notorious by Murdoch’s UK spokesman, Kelvin McKenzie, former editor of The Sun.
Of course, my comments aren’t to be taken literally. Like Conroy being compared to Stalin, I’m simply exercising the right of free speech as interpreted by Rupert Murdoch, Kim Williams, Andrew Bolt and the whole unsavoury menagerie at Murdoch media.
