So long & thanks for all the fish

To the acclaim of a boisterous MCG crowd, Dame Edna Everage and the Dalai Lama officially closed Melbourne's Commonwealth Games last night in a gala ceremony.

The growing cult of His Holiness – Melbourne's first popularly elected Lord Mayor – confounds observers, particularly Steve Bracks, the once-popular Premier who shared the stage with him last night. Bracks had no choice but to give his salesman’s smile as the crowd went berko every time the Lord Mayor’s name was mentioned in an otherwise deathly-dull official ceremony.

The public's canonisation of the Lord Mayor is a very Melbourne thing. Citizens have warmed to his image as an earnest, likeable non-politician who mangles the language and goes out of his way not to make tough decisions that might upset anyone. He's the daggy ethnic do-gooder who can laugh at himself, a threat to no one and a walking billboard for Multicultural Melbourne.

So when Peter Costello rails against "mushy misguided multiculturalism" he's clearly not speaking to his hometown constituency, but trying to stir up the redneck vote in more troubled and less civilised regional centres, like Sydney. A point made eloquently in Saturday's Australian by George Megalogenis when he wrote that "Sydney and its cranky cousin" Brisbane could learn much from Melbourne's CommGames. George's piece is, sadly, not online.

For Bracks, the Cult of So must be bemusing. But he has benefited from the So show. "It's So's weakness that makes the State Government his greatest ally," Terry Maher and I wrote for Crikey18 months ago. "Bracks loves So because those who can understand him realise he does what he's told by his Spring Street masters." And that hasn't changed.

My assessment of the Lord Mayor back then now looks a little narky. Terry and I criticised his communication skills, but the Lord Mayor has turned this into a positive. He's now the cuddly, lovable emblem of the City – replacing the official native Games mascot, Karak the South-eastern Red-tailed Black Cockatoo (remember him?)

So has employed a very expensive PR team to manage his image – but his public image reflects the private persona. The Lord Mayor is a humble man, and his personal touch has made him the city’s most popular and, soon-to-be, longest-serving civic leader.

But it's as well to remember what got him there: money and ambition.

Relax with Max

Max is two-and-a-half and he can sign as well as he can speak. It wouldn't be an insult to his folks to reveal that he was the highlight of last week's dinner party with Katherine and Damian.


Max and me go in-depth...














Damian and the Blogger get cosy...

















Bek and Coco submit to Max's charm...















Let's go surfing...














Max finishes off Bek's excellent steak on mum's lap...

















Mmmm. Makes a first rate cubby house. Do you think purple looks good on me?

The missing mob mogul: a Haiku tribute

Yesterday, Tony Mokbel's defence team gracefully withdrew from his trial. Since their man had disappeared there didn't seem much point defending him. Especially since top lawyers are expensive, and the wealthy and colourful Melbourne businessman seems out of reach.

So where to send their legal bills? Melbourne's Crypto-criminal correspondents, the Kooka Bros, suggest some possibilities in this sensitive Haiku tribute to a missing mogul of the mob:

Misty Autumn morn
Mokbel, Tony - gone. Ankles
shackled, like fish bait.

Middle Eastern in
appearance; Ms Garde-Wilson
devours Fat Tony.

Is he in Beka'a's
Valley or feeding fish off
the great ocean road?

Carlton Crew relax;
Mokbel's cojones feed fish.
It's tasty revenge.

Sunshine scum upbeat;
he's Dubai-bound in burqua
Duty-free-dom bound


We wish his legal team good luck tracking down their client, and invite readers to send in their own Haiku version of Tony's fate. There will be acclaim - and prizes* - for your best entries.

(*Prizes may be second hand, or entirely useless. If not satisfied with prizes, no correspondence will be entered into)

WANTED: More gold

Victoria police this morning issued photographs of this man, expat South African John Steffensen, who has gone missing after storming to victory and gold for his new home, Australia, in the 400m last night.

Steffensen is believed to be seeking permission to emigrate to Sierra Leone, to replace the eleven members of their CommGames team who went AWOL in Melbourne this week.

"Sure, Gold for Australia is great - and having an annual $30 million training budget helps," Steffersen told friends after his win last night. "But frankly, now we've won 73 gold medals my win kinda gets lost in the mix. I'd rather bring home to Gold for Sierra Leone; and I think eleven of theirs for one of ours sounds about right on the current athlete export market..."

Now that we are 100 medals ahead of the second best nation in the Commonwealth, England, maybe it's time to ask: are we putting enough resources into finding suitable athletic immigrants to stock our all-powerful sporting teams?

It does seem odd that – despite a $1.1 billion CommGames budget – there is no official program to encourage athletes to jump the fence and join the Green & Gold Army decimating the rest of the Commonwealth here in Melbourne. If it's not official Government policy, it should be.

And there is an opening here for a keen Opposition. Instead of whingeing about policies that put asylum seekers behind barbed wire in the desert and Pacific islands, Labor should be taking the program one step further.

Athletic refugees could be identified early in the screening process. For instance, those who are able to escape from Christmas Island detention facility and swim to the mainland should be accepted as members of the AIS triathalon training squad. Those who can't clearly don't have what it takes to join us in this wide, brown, athletic land.

Charles Richardson, Jesus Christ & Peg Putt

It’s farewell Charles Richardson! A lively crew gathered last night at the Rose to send off Fitzroy’s favourite philosopher-in-residence, who’s heading to Europe on Friday for ten weeks to – among other important things - cover European elections for Crikey. We wish him well and hope he snares an interview with our favourite PM/Media Mogul,
Silvio Berlusconi.

Berlusconi just can’t help getting himself into
trouble – be it corruption, affairs of the heart, or just plain foot-in-mouth disease. But he’s always been able to charm his way out of it. With polls reporting Berlusconi’s ‘Fortza Silvio’ Party trailing Opposition leader Romano Prodi, the PM simply commissioned his own poll, which found – surprise surprise! – Berlusconi had jumped to the lead.

In the spirit of this campaign, which has been ingeniously extended to take in the
New Roman Empire- Berlusconi has distinguished himself by comparing himself to Napoleon and Jesus Christ, obviously still big vote-pullers in
Italia.


Our favourite Berlusconi image is of the Italian stallion jumping aboard his yacht with glamourous screen star wife Veronica Lario and kids for a lengthy summer holiday some years ago, being chased down the dock by a British TV crew shouting: “Signor Berlusconi, how can you afford to leave your country in crisis and go away for a two week cruise?” To which the suntanned PM, looking around him with a shrug replied: “But my dear fellow – how could I not!”
We look forward to seeing Charles interviewing Signor Jesus Christ aboard his yacht on the Mediterranean soon.

Meantime, to find out my take on Super Saturday’s state elections, check out the latest edition of New Matilda. Is the Tasmanian debacle the end of the Greens? Was Peg Putt’s ballistic election night conspiracy speech ghost written by Dan Brown? Find out more here.

Higher, faster, greedier

Mbula mbula - and pass the kava! Despite what you may see in the meeja, the Commonwealth Games is not just about Aussie athletes crushing poor third-world nations into the dust in the field of competition; it's also about culture. And on Monday night the Fijians took the stage at Federation Square to teach us some of theirs.

While the event was advertised as free dancing lessons, only a select few were invited on stage to sway along with the grass skirted blokes to the music of Black Rose.

We particularly enjoyed the enthusiastic dancing of a group of expats who had maybe indulged in a little kava - it's a great tradition! - to warm themselves up on an early Melbourne autumn evening.

These Games are turning, unsurprisingly, into a triumphal parade for the home team. The gold standard is "Gold, Gold, Gold", so much so that the men's swimmers are copping heat from the press for "underperforming" - all those Silver medals are just not good enough. So spare a thought for our favourite sports correspondent, Stephen Phiri, from Lusaka's Daily Mail. The Zambian reporter was interviewed in Sunday's Age putting some perspective on events.

Asked his impressions of Melbourne, he replied: "It is not busy and it is peaceful. I went for a beautiful walk and no-one attacked me, unlike in Lusaka".

The Federal Government is spending $50 million on the opening and closing ceremonies alone - and that's even with volunteers doing much of the work. The Games in total will cost over $1 billion. The organising committee has assuaged its conscience by donating the grand sum of $10,000 to aid programs in Commonwealth countries.

But one of the smarter things organisers have done is allocate each team a local council to make them feel at home. Sierra Leone arrived without a team uniform and the community in the City of Whitehorse responded with uniforms and equipment. The Sierra Leonians have a team of 22, and a budget of $0. Their star cyclist, Mohammed Sesay, has been working since he was 10 to eke out a living after his father died. And here he is, competing in a donated uniform against Australia's athletes, who get $30 million a year from the taxpayer.

Not exactly a fair competition. Our exporters demand "a level playing field" in the world of trade. In sport, the imperative is Gold - at any cost.



The Comm Games - a place where culture and politics should mix.














It was an informal gatherine among friends at Fed Square. The band plonked themselves down, dragged up a few people from the audience, and started to play.















An enthusiastic crowd!


















Pat and Eleri soak up the atmosphere.

















Expat Fijians show some white folks how to groove.














The blogger had a lovely time!

Inside the Queen's lunch

The Hugog's celeb watcher, Cyril De Metre, has an access-all-areas pass to the big events around town. Our man De Metre has just recovered from the Commonwealth Games hospitality circuit to file this report:

COMMONWEALTH GAMES LUNCHEON - The Queen and Prime Minister John Howard, Wednesday 15 March 2006, Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne.

THE GOSSIP:

KEMP-ALSTON LOVE FEST: Federal sports minister, Senator Rod Kemp, and former Liberal colleague now High Commisioner in London, Richard "tricky dicky" Alston, couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was as though they were long lost brothers. They were heavily engaged in conversation oblivious to their surroundings...What were they talking about? Was Senator Kemp being given a rundown on how to be High Commisioner? Is it possible that Senator Kemp is being groomed to take over Alston's position in London VERY SOON? This would involve, at the very least, a minor Cabinet reshuffle if Kemp is shunted out after his "farewell tour" of the Turin Winter Olympics and CommGames. Watch this space.

HIDE THE TROOPS: John "Little Digger" Howard, loves to celebrate his love for our military heritage. But it came as a surprise when his Department's minders "ordered" the Navy Band, which was upstairs in the Gallery of the old Exhibition Building, to keep a low-profile, and not lean over the railings. Out of mind, out of sight. Hmmm that won't go down too well with our fighting men and women in Iraq and Afghanistan.

HIDE THE PM: It seems the Queen is a lot tougher than our PM. After lunch, Her Maj was brave enough to face noisy protestors as she left the building. Not so our PM. He escorted the Queen out the door and quickly returned and waited till the brouhaha outside died down.

BOLT'S SUPPORT: Herald Sun hitman, Andrew Bolt-action-sniper-rifle, was there to lend moral support. The PM, as he re-entered the building, saw Bolt and grabbed his hand for dear life and shook it like a drowning man. None of the other media rated so much as a lukewarm smile from Howard.

FAINE'S MATES: ABC Radio celebrity Jon Faine gets accused of being a trendy left-winger but he seemed very comfortable in the presence of conservatives Senator Rod Kemp and Richard Alston. All three were cracking jokes and laughing about the protestors outside. But Please John - get rid of those shoes...brown casual loafers don't really match a dark formal suit! I know you're trying to cultivate a Man of the People image. But you're trying too hard, and it doesn't really match the "company" you now keep.
UPDATE: Lawrence Money in The Age reveals that Faine used his loafers to squash "a large and evil-looking black spider" live on air on Monday, saving guest Sue Natrass from a horrible fate. How gallant!

TWO QUEENS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE: The over 1200 guests at this Banquet were amazed to see two "Queens." One was obviously Liz the Second but at the far end, sitting on table 61 was "political drama queen" Andrew Olexander, rebel Liberal State MP. Liberal leader Robert "Popeye" Doyle was placed at the opposite end of the building, away from both "queens."

THE RACE FOR FLEMING: Former Australian champion athlete Jane Fleming is being "chased" by both major political parties to become a Member of Parliament, either at state or federal level. So far, it's neck and neck between the parties for her signature, and political types were snapping at her heels over the canapes.

Cheers, Cyril De Metre.

HUGO SAYS:
A comprehensive report from our man on the spot. Cyril is a well-placed and tenacious newshound who'll provide regular updates from inside the lunches of power.

I don't know Jane Fleming, but in sports-mad Australia an athlete of her calibre would be a scoop for any party. Now she apparently just needs to decide which flavour party suits her politics...Maybe the Libs should cut out the middle man and offer her the Sports Ministry, allowing Rod Kemp to take a plum overseas posting?

Freedom of speech?

Unlike the U.S. Australia doesn't have a constitutional guarantee of freedom of speech. Some bold liberal High Court Judges have given us an "implied right" but we discovered this week that this is a very slim right indeed.

An internet bureaucrat called Bruce has hauled down a clever website http://www.johnhowardpm.org by celebrated Oz co-founder Richard Neville because it infringed John Howard's intellectual property rights and "To us it looked like phishing". (a pdf version is still available on Richard Neville's website)

This is parody, kids. Phishing is when fraudsters try to steal your credit card details. Does the Prime Minister feel so weak, so vulnerable that he's threatened by a fiesty imagined rewriting of his pro-war rhetoric?

Does anyone else feel the totalitarian jackboot? A culture of political satire is a hallmark of a healthy democracy. Governments that crack down on this kind of political expression do not deserve to operate under the great cloak of democracy. Hitler banned Charlie Chaplin's Great Dictator - although he is reputed to have enjoyed a private screening of his own, demonstrating that at least he may have had a sense of humour.

Surely the Fourth Estate are outraged that in Australia the PM's "intellectual property rights" are deemed more important than free political expression? Wouldn't the media, of all people, see this as a fundamental issue about freedom of speech? The papers must be full of outraged editorials, just as Melbourne's parochial media was fuming at being banned from showing preview footage of this week's Commonwealth Games opening ceremony?

Apparently, bread and circuses rate better than sophisticated political satire, in the department that Slashdot calls "the ah-to-breath-the-free-air-of-australia dept. ". The only news coverage we could find was this matter-of-fact report in the Fairfax press, and this piece in Crikey today that accepts at face value Bureaucrat Bruce's explanation.

Not so in the U.S. - P2Pnet are reporting that Australia has banned spoof websites - but then, since political satire is protected over there, George W hasn't even sent the White House lawyers in to shut down http://www.whitehouse.com.

We particularly like the picture of Condy Rice. Maybe George W does too, but even the neo-cons' assault on democracy can't erase their constitution.

Fireworks

Let The Games Begin


“And finally, ladeeez and gennelmen please welcome the final team into the arena tonight. The proud hosts of the 18th Commonwealth Games – Ozzztrayyya!”

Craig Willis, the circus spruiker-cum-footy announcer put it all in context, and showed the world what the $30 million fireworks and choreographed midair performers on strings were all about; a mere warm-up act for the main event, our World Class Team of 2600 sportsmen and women, all dressed nattily in their St Trinian’s School head prefect outfits of green with gold trim and braiding.

Have we ever managed to dress our athletes in a vaguely stylish uniform when turning them out on the international stage?

Welcome to the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony! And for those of us unable to cough up the $250+ price of a seat at the MCG, sitting by the banks of the Yarra was as close to the action as we could get.






Don’t know what your highlight was:

Was it the Michael Leunig-inspired saga of ‘A boy and his duck’?

Was it the po-faced look on Her Maj’s face when she rushed to her feet as Dame Kiri’s “Happy Birthday to you” serenade turned into “God Save the Queen”?



Was it the lame parade of footy captains unsteadily carrying the Queen’s Baton along the 72 fish boats lining the Yarra (that's it, above) representing a different fish from each competing country (interesting Fish Fact: Canada’s was an Arctic cod)?

Was it the pas de deux between the airborne principal ballerina and a trail bike rider? Or the flying W-Class tram (gross weight: 8 tonnes)?

Or the comfy, middle of the road feel to the music – I’d wondered what happened to The Church. And the Cat Empire, for that matter. It’s kinda handy for them that they only have one song, and it lasts 90 minutes, the time it took the 5000 athletes and hangers-on to file into the stadium.

I guess their brand of white man’s funk is Ron Walker’s idea of trendy young people’s music. Trendy young people like Eleri and Bek, pictured here enjoying the fireworks.











Or was it Our Delta? She’s been at the Pop Song Generator again http://www.thecoolkids.org/articles/spfeatures/lyricgen.php and came up with a stirring anthem to finish proceedings: ‘Together We Can Fly/ Like The Eagles In The Sky/ Baby We Were Born To Try…’ http://www.heraldsun.news.com.au/common/story_page/0,5478,18467297%5E39875,00.html




Was it the Wurrundjeri elder coming ashore in her bark canoe to hand a boy her globe of knowledge – and locals unfurling their possum skin cloaks for the world? If you’re going to have a token Aboriginal component, it may as well be a good one.

Or was it the delight the circus brought to the faces of Premier Steve Bracks, John Howard (whose government threw in the $50 million cost of the opening and closing ceremonies – thanks taxpayers!), or Ron Walker, who boasted that he’d sold more tickets than the Manchester Games or Athens Olympics?

Tell that to the volunteers in our train home who were disappointed not to get a few complementary tickets to the opening ceremony – despite the thousands of empty seats that stood out like sore thumbs on the TV coverage.

We loved the flying tram, the fireworks, the happy athletes, the firework fish, the flow of the celebration up the Yarra and into the stadium, Ron Barassi walking on water – and the arrival of Eleri’s mum Pat with a delicious hamper of yummy treats just as our stamina was beginning to flag.


Three year old Megan was the target demographic, and prounounced to grandmother Julianne: "I saw all the fireworks in the world, and they were wonderful!"

Now she wants to go on a boat on the river - we salute her and the Commonwealth Games dreams of competitors, our army of volunteers and the billions of spectators throughout The British Empire over the next Ten glorious days.

God save the Queen!







Ed enjoys the show:






















Fireworks!


















The blogger on the river, showing his true colors:

















More fireworks!


















Yet more fireworks!

Wild times in Tassie

In case news travels slowly, there’s an election on; two in fact, with state polls in South Australia and Tasmania. I think the Tassie election’s clearly more interesting because there’s an actual contest involved – despite SA Liberal leader Rob Kerin bravely refusing to jump off the wagon during the campaign, sadly there’s been no boozy antics to brighten up a dull campaign over there.

While down in the Apple Isle all sorts of shenanigans are going on, some of which I’ve analysed in a piece today for gutsy online publication New Matilda. The story's locked away in the members’ section, but feel free to jump on http://www.newmatilda.com and grab a free trial subscription. Then you'll be able to read all about the Mad Hatter's tea party going on in Tassie!

Crikey personals

Wanted: more groupies
Be warned, gentle female Crikey readers, before you respond to the personal ad Christian Kerr posted yesterday in Crikey.

First, if you respond to his ad, Christian will forever refer to you as "a groupie". Second, if he sends you a photo, it will almost certainly be one where he "had makeup and control over the lighting". It may well also be from before he started growing his all-over curly mullet.

Take note of the picture (Christian is on the left, wearing the suit, entrertaining in-house philosopher Charles Richardson and Crikette Sophie Vorrath) from last year's Crikey Christmas party.

We also have to question the "GSOH" - but I suppose it's all a matter of perspective.

It is a bit sad that the once-fiesty publication is reduced to printing personal ads for its remaining political correspondents...

In case you missed it:

Christian Kerr, Crikey's political correspondent, writes: ... Just by the way I'm 40, 6'2", 85 kilos (need to drop three), childless, unlucky in love, N/S, GSOH, photo available on request…
christian@crikey.com.au