…from the quill of Antisthenes the Younger
The politically incorrect reminiscence, naturally. The correct ones, of the usual ‘fairfax’ journalistic quality, are all over the main stream media. Without a doubt, Whitlam was the worst Prime Minister [Fog of Chaos – Whitlam and Fabian socialism – April 2011] until Gillard back-stabbed her way in and lied to the citizens to stay in. Now it (femmonazis vociferously object to her being referred to as “her”) has the distinction of being the worst. Of course, Rudd wasn’t given enough time by his comrades, though plenty of rope.
I also remember, but Mr Larry Pickering remembers it better:
The Sydney Morning Herald is just one of many papers in agonising decline.The decision made today should have been made five years ago. News Limited could be next. Many would see the loss of the left-wing SMH as really no loss at all, but as we move further into the digital age we will lose many quality people in the field of journalism. It is truly sad. Paddy McGuinness, a product of Riverview College, was the economics writer for the SMH and was a good friend. We would talk all night at the pub opposite. I learnt so much from him. His economic theories were uniquely devoid of political bias. In fact he was apolitical with a love for economics way beyond crass politics. The subject fascinated me. Paddy showed me it was mathematic imperatives affected by human weft and warp. Market forces, he said, don’t always follow the correct or predicted paths. Interest rates may have a predictable flow-on, but there can be surprising tributaries. Economics has a mind of its own and those who can anticipate unreasonable S bends, U turns and J curves, melded with the formidable forces of human nature, are rich. I liked him.
Whitlam hit the fan around this time and his imperious arrogance was irrevocably dragging the country to a cataclysmic watershed. His economic incompetence was breathtaking. To this day, he believes he was an economic titan. I recall him throwing $500 million at the banking system to assist young home owners. Not a cent (predictably) assisted them, because the banks opted for the better credit ratings of current home owners. Why wouldn’t they? Current home owners had asset backing! Existing borrowers simply took the opportunity to upgrade their homes at the lower interest rate. Few new houses were built as a result. Whitlam didn’t understand that bastard banks were commercial entities with real live shareholders. The Families Departments and DOCS, designed to clean up the wreckage from the Family Court were, and still are, inept. DOCS is run largely by under-qualified feminist teenagers and ideological misfits. Adoptions came to be portrayed as somehow ‘discriminatory’ and wrong, and, sadly, became almost impossible to achieve.
Whitlam’s ‘Family Law’ inspired Child Support Agency results in three male suicides a day and are allowed to operate outside the law. The divorce rate has risen 30% as a direct result of Whitlam “initiatives” and the appalling Lionel Murphy. Crean who openly declared that when he ran out of money he would print some more… yep, Crean was the Federal Treasurer!And who can forget F.X.Connor, Charlie Jones, “Jumpin’ Jim Cairns and “Test-Pattern” Grassby!Charlie Jones, a vacuous Newcastle boilermaker and ex-Union hack apparently possessed the obvious credentials to be Minister of Transport & Infrastructure in Whitlam’s menagerie of mediocrity, and was best known for his idea that a bridge be built across Sydney Heads.F.X.Connors, a likeable, portly, inept laughing-stock who looked like a Wall Street banker on valium, was busy “buying back the farm” from overseas investors through a shifty little bastard called Khemlani, a nefarious, sub-continental who lumped a Globite suitcase full of cash around doing shady deals at exorbitant interest rates. The only good thing that came out of this crooked back-room deal was the beginning of the end for the Whitlam Gang.Jim Cairns, part-time husband of the thoroughly decent Gwen, part-time cuckolder of Juni Morosi’s husband, David Ditchburn, full-time Communist, and, amazingly, sometime Treasurer, ended his days writing unsaleable left-wing rants and prancing naked around the Murrumbidgee shallows with hairy, drug-addled eco-freaks. This bloke was a ‘special’.Then there was the diminutive, sallow-faced Al Grassby…the mobile Test-Pattern!. With his hideous ties, clownish clothes, pencil moustache and narrow eyes, he had every appearance of a middle-aged pick-pocket….a pale imitation of his namesake, Alfonse Capone. His only claim to fame (apart from his involvement with the Griffith Trimboli Mafia) was that he framed legislation making it a criminal offence to call Wogs ‘Wogs’. In the process we weren’t allowed to call Pommies ‘Pommies’, Kiwis ‘Kiwis’, Yanks ‘Yanks’ or Aussies ‘Aussies’! The stupid legislation was ignored of course. This Arthur Daley clone made Joe Biden look like Winston Churchill.
Astonishingly, Whitlam, together with these other powerful numb-nuts were in a position to re-shape this Country in a most extraordinary way; and might have succeeded were it not for John Kerr, the brilliant, hard-drinking, Whitlam appointed Governor-General who pissed them all off when Fraser put a stop to their maniacal spending and Whitlam wouldn’t call an election.
Whitlam went on to create a record “Misery Index”(the combined total of unemployment rates, interest rates and inflation) sent thousands of small businesses to the wall and, most seriously, allowed the savage Balibo murder of five decent Aussie journos to go unaccounted for. He didn’t want to upset the most populous Islamic nation on Earth. So he gave them our Sabre jets instead. He then salved his conscience by going out and purchasing ‘Blue Poles’ for $1.3 million. My kids did better drawings!
It was endless nonsense and arrant incompetence, yet the disastrous Whitlam is still revered as some sort of ‘elder statesman’! The bastard never even served a full term. After he was justifiably and legally sacked by his mate the Governor General, and subsequently turfed out by the electorate at the forced election, he didn’t even stay around to face the music. He organized himself a plum, overpaid Government job in Paris .
Like many others I knew when it was about to end but no-one suspected the way it would happen. I started drawing a series of cartoons that would lead to the inevitable coup de gras. It became known as the “Shithouse Series”…..an outback dunny with a battered chook (Whitlam) on top and everyone trying to coax the bastard down.
When the news came through of the sacking, I threw my arms in the air and ran through the SMH Press room, yelling, “You fuckin’ ripper! He’s gone!” I stopped in my tracks, shocked! Only then did I realise that just about every journo at Fairfax, even my closest friends, were rabid ALP supporters, and I didn’t even know it. They were weeping and white with rage. All that time they must have been humouring me. Every pale face reflected the tru feelings of the Left-leaning journos. I pretty much celebrated by myself that night at the pub. It was a wake for the others! Some grown journos cried.
I rationalised it. It made sense really. If someone wanted to change the World (or turn it upside-down) surely they would join either the Labor party or the media. Whitlam was certain to lose the ensuing election and I was happy. I went to bed grateful that this could never happen to my country again.
How wrong I was! [Larry Pickering]
I can only add that Mr Pickering must have been young and naïve at that time. I was not naive. Not that it made any difference.