Remember when Brendan weighed into the History Wars with his invocation of Simpson and the donkey at Gallipolli? That was a year ago this week, and it is worth checking what I wrote on my Blogspot Floating Life during that week. For example:
But what a lot of insecure twaddle is being let loose by this whole “I’m more Aussie than you, mate” thing at the moment. The louder the twaddler the less handle they have on history and historiography, it seems. Truth is beside the point. It is the Lei Feng factor (see yesterday’s entries) that counts, it appears. I sometimes suspect that the jingoists in our midst really are the descendents of D H Lawrence’s Ben Cooley in Kangaroo.
And I’m a guy who always, even in the most multicultural classroom, taught things like “The Man from Snowy River” and showed Peter Weir and David Williamson’s Gallipoli. But I also showed Breaker Morant and read stories like Lawson’s “The Union Buries Its Dead” and poems like “Faces in the Street”.
It has been an unseemly but not uncommon spectacle too, I feel, to observe Howard being the *consummate politician* (TM) as his government spins and wriggles under the current rise in interest rates, especially over departing Reserve Bank governor Ian Macfarlane’s various parting shots, as here and here. I have reached the point where whenever someone tells me Howard is a *consummate politician* (TM) I can only agree, sigh, and say “Exactly! Such a shame!”
And on that History Summit, see Lateline.