If it's good enough to Campbell Newman...
How do you trouser a seventy grand pay rise? With a big smile if you're Campbell Newman.
8 Responses to ‘The Premier's pay rise’
Sir Anthony Abbott promised us a Golden Age of Satire, my friends. And he has delivered. Forsoothe he didst provide two blogs for the price of one, and one of them early:
Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen, the disgraced and deceased premier of Queensland would have heartily, if incoherently endorsed Tony Abbott’s disinterring of the imperial honours system. His corrupt, convicted former police chief ex-Sir Terry Lewis will be giddy with excitement, never having felt quite right about having his first knighthood stripped away with his belt and shoelaces at the prison gates.
Perhaps Sir Terry could arise again. After all, it must be dreadfully embarrassing to be lumped in with the Annulled Honorary Knights Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath Sir Nicolae Ceau?escu, Lord Robert Mugabe and Baron Benito Mussolini
If you're wondering why I went back for a second bite of this sweet, sweet cherry, it's because Fairfax asked me to. A day early.
3 Responses to ‘Arise, Baron Mugabe’
Minutes of a Double Secret Meeting
Re. G20 or Possibly G19 Security Arrangements
Attending: Premier, Police Commissioner, Police Minister
The meeting was called to order by the Premier who wanted to know why the internet was still running around freely in his state given all the threats he’d been getting from the internet.
The Minister assured the Premier that his men assured him they were all over the internet and the Commissioner knew they weren’t lying because every time he looked out his office the others were all gathered around the big computer out there pointing at something on the internet.
5 Responses to ‘Dropbears and sticky pants, a G20 threat assessment’
Stepping away from the all of the issues captured by a thousand different placards on Saturday and Sunday, the systemic failure to recognise the significance of the story speaks to a deeper fear I have about the news media, which is not that we might die out as Google gorges itself on the last scraps of our advertising based business model… but that it won’t matter.
That you won’t care, and that there will be no reason to care.
Because we failed you, long before we failed to do our jobs. There's a case to be made that new media, in the form of professional blogs and even some of the better amateur sites, have already embarrassed us in a dozen different specialist areas that used to compromise the various desks of the old metro dailies; sport, fashion (the 'ladies pages'), entertainment, science and tech, international politics, maybe even national politics. But the meat and potatoes of local coverage? No, that still belonged to us. Or I thought it did. Increasingly, however, I wonder whether the question, "Will you miss us when we're gone", is one which answers itself.