Friday, May 23, 2014


You know, until a few months ago there were a bunch of commentators on the Australian left I'd always been a little intimidated by, in that they always seemed better read than me. If I disagreed with them I assumed I was probably wrong and they were probably right, I probably just hadn't done the reading. Plus a lot of them are good writers, so.

The incident of the Biennale boycott changed all of that. Not one amongst the whole babbling lot of them seemed to have actually read the statement by the boycotting artists; not one of them twigged that that action was the result of a shit-ton of research and debate; and not one of them had done anything like that amount of research before they smarmily more-or-less dismissed the whole thing. Because artists, right? They're basically kids who never grew up, everybody knows that. It's one of those things that doesn't get examined, like the idea that the Coalition never wastes public money on bullshit.

But examining ideas like that is worth doing, and part of your job description imho if you're a progressive commentator. Otherwise what the fuck are you good for? (ps: don't get me wrong - the conservatives were worse.)

Anyway: in the longer-term, realising just how full of poo those ladies and gentlemen could be on occasion was liberating. The scales fell from my eyes, and since the scales were made of poo my eyes feel much better now. I'm enjoying it. X


© New Blogger Templates | Webtalks