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He's a great mate but Nick has one annoying habit. He's always first with the cutting line to describe something or someone in the news and I'm always disappointed I didn't think of it first. Yesterday was no exception.
"This is just sad," he said only minutes into Donald Trump's Mar-A-Lago speech. "He's rambling like a man without pants at a bus stop."
Thousands of words will have been written about that speech by the time you read this but few would have nailed it quite like Nick's summation. It's exactly what Trump resembled as, face twisted with vindictiveness, he rattled off his laundry list of grievances. Against the district attorney who brought the charges. Against the judge hearing the case. Against the judge's daughter. Against the FBI. Against Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden, the "radical left" Democrats.
The list went on and on and on some more. Just like the utterances of someone in the grip of a full-blown psychotic episode. Just like the raddled homeless man in shredded pants who used to hang around the corner of Park and Elizabeth streets in Sydney in the mid-1990s. But with one big difference. Everyone ignored the homeless man. No one ignores Donald Trump.
Not since he first rose to prominence in the 1980s have we been spared his intrusions into our consciousness. The failed marriages, the infidelity, the crass flaunting of his wealth, the hair, the endless legal battles, The Apprentice - for decades they were staples of the gossip mags. And then, of course, the unexpected presidential win in 2016 capped his relentless search for the spotlight.
Fascination and revulsion go hand in hand with Trump. We're confounded by his shameless ego and repelled by his nastiness and cruelty. We wonder how he survives, being so obviously consumed by jealousy, spite and a bottomless well of victimhood. Angry men with lesser constitutions would surely succumb to stroke, cancer or heart disease. Trump is like the picture of Dorian Gray, only he's not hidden in the attic but out on wilful public display in all his ugliness. We want to look away but can't.
We'd best gird ourselves for more because this case is likely to drag on for an eternity. If it weren't reality, it would make a compelling if slightly implausible streaming series, perhaps in the same vein as Showtime's Billions. But it is reality, available on free-to-air and likely to compete for our attention for some time to come.
Unless, of course, Justice Juan Merchan, who's hearing the case and was the subject of Trump's diatribe, decides to impose a gag order. We can always hope for small mercies. In the meantime, we can be thankful our politics, even though dull and disappointing at times, hasn't descended into the gutter as it has in the US.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Did you ever think you'd see a former US president face felony charges? Is there an end in sight to the Donald Trump soap opera? Should we be so closely aligned to a country that allows someone like Donald Trump to run for president, even if it's from a jail cell? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
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IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- The Coalition has decided to oppose the Indigenous Voice to Parliament proposal while supporting constitutional recognition of First Nations Australians.
- Prime Minister Anthony Albanese says there is no timetable for him to visit Beijing but he remains open to the possibility of travelling to China upon official invite. Reports of an "in principle" invitation for Mr Albanese to visit Beijing later this year emerged in the South China Morning Post on Tuesday.
- Terence Darrell Kelly will spend at least 11-and-a-half years behind bars over the terrifying abduction of four-year-old Cleo Smith from her family's tent in remote Western Australia. Kelly, 37, pleaded guilty last year to taking Cleo from the Blowholes campsite, about 960km north of Perth, on October 16, 2021.
THEY SAID IT: "Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured." - Mark Twain
YOU SAID IT: Half a century after its first ever call, the mobile phone has infiltrated every aspect of our lives. But resistance is growing, with NSW moving to banish it from public schools.
Elaine says: "I love the convenience of receiving calls when away from home, hate when it rings at an inconvenient time, I usually let it ring out so I can call back in private. Hate the loud conversations 'others' have in public spaces and walking along head-down regardless of pedestrians or on public transport where there is no escape from their conversations. On the subject of mobiles in parliament, surely full attention should be given to the subject of political discussion without distractions. If schools can ban them then so should parliament for the same reason."
"Like many things in life," says Brenda, "we have to take the good with the bad. So for every text message 'Where are you?' which saves ages waiting at the wrong counter or carpark exit, we have the boorish, over sharing conversations in confined spaces with no escape. In some countries whose people are both well mannered and private, like France and Japan, loud phone calls are rarely a problem. Signs might help but we in Australia are either more tolerant or not willing to voice annoyance."
Samantha says: "I love and loathe the mobile phone, mainly for the hold it has on me. Cannot leave the house without it. Has to be within reach at all times. I couldn't care less about missing a call or a message but the apps are always used. As for bluetooth talkers, I sometimes think it's only annoying because we cannot hear the other side of the conversation! Would it be so annoying if there were two powerwalkers talking loudly?"
Cathy says there needs to be flexibility with phones in schools: "Our older child was in upper primary school when their sibling was diagnosed with cancer. Treatment included regular trips to hospital for chemo, blood products and unplanned in-patient admissions. Transport had been arranged so the sibling was independent but we didn't want them coming home to an empty house with no idea about where we were, or when we would be home. It was easy to send a text and they could check their phone before heading home. Our school did have a rule about no phones, and one kid loved dobbing about them having one, we had liaised with the school around the need for our kid to have one on the understanding it only came out at the end of school before heading home. Without it, life would have been much more difficult and it did help to minimise anxiety and confusion."
Old Donald says: "The intercity trains between Newcastle interchange (some greedy bastards stole our beautiful station) and Central have what are euphemistically called 'quiet carriages'. However, as far as I can make out, mobile phones must have special dispensation. This allows users to enjoy their toys, with the understood provision that volume is set to and sustained on LOUD. Any request for silence is mostly met with abuse and sometimes even bewilderment: 'How else does one fill in two long hours?' So I'm with you John. This is just one of many examples of the social ruination caused by these ghastly infringements on personal comfort."