The Monkey Speaks

Those privileged enough to see the New York Times' Head Performing Monkey, Tom Friedman, on Lateline the other day were in for a treat. Beginning the interview with his trademark lack of humility - "And I'd just like to say hello to all my fans in Australia" - Friedman, disconcertingly resembling Dr. Phil in appearance, content and delivery, went on to offer his scarily off-the-planet analysis of the causes of the US financial crisis.

Friedman, who writes about global economics with all the subtlety of an ADD child playing Hungry Hungry Hippos against himself, told the host the following (I'm paraphrasing, as usual):

"This year, the world hit not one wall but two. The first was financial; the second, environmental. This year, the earth hit its carrying capacity. The US business model is unsustainable. We borrow money from China so that we can borrow more of their junk, devaluing our currency in the process by stacking the Chinese treasury with US dollars. Then we do it all over again. When the US lost the ability to pay for the junk, the system collapsed.

Now that other developing countries are starting to consume like Americans, the earth could no longer sustain what we all were doing and it said, 'enough'."

This is true in a sense: the US-based model of growth is unsustainable all right. But Friedman effectively blamed the rising middle class in the developing world for what was going on. Of course, this is nuttier than feeding time in the elephant enclosure. The world didn't suddenly hit an 'environmental wall' in 2008, and the developing middle class's increased resource consumption didn't cause the crisis.

The crisis occurred because - and this is something that the frantically pro-US Friedman is congenitally blind to - the US financial system is run by criminals. I don't mean that in a bug-eyed Chomskian way, but criminality is really the only logical definition of what was going on. The US, like Russia, had become a society based on gangster capitalism. And now that Obama and co. have done their best to ensure that this clique of suited psychopaths will be able to continue pretty much as they were - albeit with a few mild spanks on their Armani-cosseted botties - we can all look forward to a Dow Jones recovery curve flatter than Boris Karloff's head.

The conversational low point was Friedman's assertion that "the time for fairness is over" - as if 'fairness' was something that only know-nothing NASCAR-appreciating Joe Sixpacks wanted. By denying the need for a massive, exhaustive purge and nationalisation of the US banking system and shifting the blame onto those nasty poor people screwing up the environment, Friedman confirmed his status as the most hilariously over-promoted source of authority since Prince Charles.

So, please allow me to present my alternative analysis of the causes of the financial crisis (note: metaphorical representation only):

They shoot elephants, don't they?

According to its bloviating media cheerleaders, the United States is a Leviathan guided by two warring and equally profound spirits (one oddly represented by a Donkey and one by an Elephant, but let that pass). The two-party system - or so the theory goes - ensures that one of these folksy animals doesn't get too large a share of the public's attention. If either voice dominates the political landscape for too long, everyone will end up either a. making bead necklaces and singing Kumbaya with a bunch of gay kindergarten teachers (Donkey dominant) or b. shooting immigrants for fun while levelling national parks to get the oil underneath (Elephant dominant).

From this unending process of struggle between the Voice of Tradition and the Voice of Progress, a great nation is forged. Or so the theory goes.

But US politics is funny, in a terrifying way, because one of the guiding spirits has Mad Elephant Disease and should have been taken out into the back paddock and shot in the back of its wrinkly grey head a fair while back. That would be the logical way to quell the rabid, paranoid rantings of a political party seemingly unencumbered by humility, compassion or logic.

That's why it's so funny to see the conservative journos weep tears of blood at Obama's dramatic left-wing-isation of the economy over the past few weeks (and don't get me wrong, he really hanged, drew, quartered, cremated, exploded and danced on the grave of post-Reagan politics pretty enthusiastically). Representatives of the Southern Baptist Convention, gun nuts and little else, Republican party members are slowly starting to realise that most people see them as a bunch of nasty, crazy, greedy, racist, rapacious nut jobs, fit for little but toenail harvesting.

'Reaching across the aisle' in this situation to reach some post-partisan agreement - as recommended by self-fellating hicks like Rush Limbaugh et al. - would be like awarding joint custody of a child to a charity worker mother and an axe-murdering father (caring Mom on Mon, Tue, Wed; psychopathic Dad on Thurs, Fri, Sat).

It won't work, blowhards, because people all around the world are really, really scared of y'all.

Questions for Nokia

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am the proud owner of a Nokia Mobile Telephone, circa 1998. It has served me well during the time that I have been using it. Last week, however, when I was lying in bed, I decided to play one of your company's built-in games for a while rather than getting up and going to work.

The game that I chose was called 'Nature Park'. Although the gameplay itself was quite entertaining, I have several questions that I would like to ask you in relation to this product.

In case you no longer include 'Nature Park' with your new mobile telephones, allow me to refresh your memory: the game is a Tetris-like challenge, in which the player must arrange a series of coloured shapes neatly into a grid as they fall.

Here, then, are my key queries:

1. I do not fully understand why the game is titled 'Nature Park'. The grid seems to be located in some kind of 'space' setting, with a background of stars and galaxies. The most curious item in the background, though, is probably the Chipmunk-type animal that levitates next to the grid. The Chipmunk is housed in a small flying saucer. Although I realise that many nature parks do contain chipmunks or similar animals, I am also quite certain that few of these transport themselves in personalised flying saucer-type machines.

(n.b. I did, briefly, form a hypothesis as to the 'nature park' title: the omnipotent flying-saucer-travelling chipmunk could be seen as a comment on human fallibility - in which case the earth itself could be seen as a kind of 'nature park' for the omniscient chipmunk's benefit, with the human species as the main attraction - a Nietzscheian reversal of fortune, if you will. Please let me know if this alternative hypothesis is valid.)

2. The allegiance of the chipmunk in relation to the human player is unclear, or at least unstable. The chipmunk looks pleased when the human player scores points (i.e. his flying saucer starts jiggling up and down rapidly, and he starts smiling, insofar as this is possible for a rodent). But when the human player completes a level of the game, the chipmunk's flying saucer appears to crash. I cannot understand why the chipmunk would be happy at the player's success if the player's completion of a level results in the destruction of the chipmunk's primary mode of transportation. Further, the chipmunk's eyes begin to widen in agitation if the player is in danger of losing the game. But surely the chipmunk would be glad, not agitated, at the failure of the human player if this were the only way to save his saucer. (To further complicate matters, the chipmunk smiles when a point is scored. Why is this?)

3. On level 2, Chipmunk #1 is replaced by Cat #1 (also besaucered), whose prominent eyelashes and red, full lips lends it a feminine appearance. Again, Cat #1's attitude towards the human player's success or failure is unclear. Cat #1 licks her nose with her tongue when the human loses points. Does this mean something?

As I have not yet progressed beyond Level 2, I am unable to comment on further animal observers included in 'Nature Park'. However, I would be most grateful if you could address my current issues.

Kind regards,

Tim

The Moral Centre of Rugby League

For those who are used to piss-takes on this blog: this is a bit more serious.

The news tonight was full of a story about a Rugby League star who has (I was going to say 'Fallen From Grace', but it should be obvious that Rugby League stars begin from a place a fair bit lower than that) screwed up, made a mistake and been a naughty boy - a bit of a wild lad, really.

That's how the press is treating it, anyway. For the record, the guy (whose name I can't remember, which might save me from some legal implications of writing about him) is alleged to have raped a teenage girl last weekend.

Of course, because he's a sportsman, and a famous one at that, the unctuous soft-pedalling by his emotionally retarded cronies begins immediately.

The dilution of the alleged crime is assisted by the news networks' insistence on using the term 'sexual assault', which is to the term 'rape' what 'prisoner abuse' is to 'torture'. (Technically correct, but not quite as, well, you know, indelicate. Do we have to use the 'R' word? He's such a great player...)

And the excuses start immediately for Mr. Fallen Hero. There are the solemn denunciations of the code's unhealthy affection for alcohol, with Mr. Alleged Rapist as an innocent victim (Chastened teammates: "If only he hadn't drunk so much! If only that bottle shop hadn't been open! If only that girl hadn't dressed like a...sorry, is this microphone on?").

Then there are the 'hard hitting' angles from the ABC news room, including the Suggested Punishment. And what draconian punishments they propose. A sporting 'personality' of some sort said on the 7:30 report (I'm paraphrasing here, of course): 'You have to hit 'em where it hurts - a fine won't deter 'em. You gotta ban them from playing - that's the only thing that'll teach these lads!'

So, let's get this straight. A Sporting Hero allegedly rapes a girl. A bunch of his friends go on a Government-funded show and tell us:

a. People don't rape people - beer rapes people; and

b. If he really did do it, well, gee - maybe he shouldn't play rugby for a while.

A sanctimonious suggestion. One thing that would work rather better than being deprived of some mano-a-mano combat for a fortnight would be an extended stay in, oh, I don't know, a prison? You know, with criminals who aren't famous.

This may sound pretty obvious for those who have not been lobotomised repeatedly with a dirty trowel, but what other profession on earth allows its members to get away with such appalling excuses for alleged criminal behaviour? (Movie stars don't even get a look-in in comparison, nor do any of the other absurdly privileged professions.)

A couple of random memories of the same phenomenon:

- Andrew Denton's appalling interview of the charmer Wayne Carey, who proved that you don't have to be a League player to be a violent criminal, although it does help. Denton, bless his heart, brought out the compassionate side of Carey for his audience - which was understandably obscured at the time, as Carey had recently assaulted some cops. Oh yes, and...ahem, allegedly...glassed his wife in the face.

- The SMH's bleeding-heart coverage of the, ah, alleged rape scandal that engulfed the Bulldogs a few years back. Headline: "Shattered", over a shattered bulldog logo. Yep, the SMH was sorry for the club, not the woman.

- The mysteriously restored reputation of Gary Ablett Snr. ("Hey Dad, wasn't there something with him and an underage girl who died and some ecstasy tablets-" "Shut up, son, he was a great player, ok?")