David Kippin's take on diplomacy: the wacky theory of the week goes to The Kipper. And Johnathan Thurston’s secret life in PNG.

Also, The Pie sees a certain symmetry in the push for Tasmania to legalise euthanasia – seems a good fit.

Also, bits of language fun and games from around the place – including The Mad Katter and the Daily Astonisher (what a surprise!), before The Magpie goes into harrumph mode about boot camps, late night trading and sister-bloody-cities.

And Bentley really chucks the rattle out of the pram, taking the media to task for what he sees as an unforgivable lapse – all here in the nest at www.townsvillemagpie.com.au

Tasmania is thinking of legalizing euthanasia, and why not? . Euthanasia and Tasmania make a good fit, since this is state that has given us Bob Brown ...

.... and Christine Milne

whose barking-mad policies have led more than one or two among us to dark thoughts of ending it all with a needle full of what the vets call ‘green dream’ . oh, the irony.

Ah, Tassy , it would certainly put you in the mood. A lonely night in Launceston in winter would make the transition from this vale to the next barely noticeable. Unless you’re a politician, then you’d be headed for much warmer climes, and would be condemned to an eternal afterlife in Townsville. (Ewen Jones probably wouldn't notice the difference).  Could be a good sideline for Andrew Wilkie. If you were having second thoughts about dropping off the twig, he could be called in to drone on about the terrors of poker machines. You’d be reaching for the needle in no time. Or if you’re really being obstinate about shuffling off the old mortal coil, a knock on the door by Christine Milne dressed in torture-chamber leather would surely do the trick. no need for the needle, it'd be a heart attack for sure.

Back across Bass Strait, The Mysterious Sign of the Week comes from far distant Melbourne , now the domicile of Magpie reader Mystified of Mysterton. She snapped this directive in the kitchen of the RSL hall in Footscray.

But maybe a little rumba around the refrigerator?

And the mystery for our resident doodler Bentley is what he sees as a dastardly plot by the Australian media in ignoring what is noiw a celebrated victory.

Here’s some of foam-flecked words that splattered across the email screen today.

Thanks oz media, for the great coverage of the America's Cup. We hear all about every little injury, hypodermic needle, wags' cleavage, and example of antisocial behaviour in the football industry, but sweet FA about the most spectacular yacht race in history, where Aussie sailors won the series, until it was all over. I'm disgusted!

B

Send get well cards via The 'Pie.

Closer to home …

The continuing casual approach to matters of language isn’t just the bane of the Daily Astonisher’s editorial side.

This from today’s Bulletin …

One would guess that the mention of ‘cruiser’, reinforced by the word ‘snorkel’ in there somewhere, had someone in a bit of a nautical mood. Keep an eye out for a tinny with a bull bar. (Was this the work of the much-missed and much-loved erstwhile columnist and ad flogger Amanda Gray?) 

You’ll remember the wrassle with reality this section of the paper recently had, where it couldn’t distinguish between a lost dog and a second had car for sale.

The rugby league world has been dazzled by the mercurial Johnathan Thurston for some years now, nowhere more than in PNG, where he is seen as almost a god. So it will come as a surprise to a few of us to learn about the food of the gods, Thurston-style.

Ever onward.

Maths test for Sydney refs; 'How many boots am I holding?'

Johnathan has taken to the PNG TV screens, letting everyone there in on his secret diet to keep fit. One imagines it is a secret he has kept from his personal dietician, and certainly from his delightful missus. Thurston’s has always seemed a likeable bloke who enjoys  a bit of cheeky mischief off the field, so The Pie wonders how long it took for this ad to be shot  ... look closely at his expression after he has shoveled in a mouthful of his ‘special diet of bully and Trukai rice'.

Speaking of ‘special’, The Mad Katter been dazzling us for years with his linguistic lip-work, and his narrow squeak in Kennedy hasn’t slowed the flow.  This startling image has been doing the rounds for a while now ….

….. and when it was shown to Bob, he called on his inner hipness to ask ‘Has this gone feral?’  Ummm, we think he meant viral.

Speaking of time travel, do we have a Henrietta Kissinger walking amongst us?

Seems TEL's David The Kipper Kippin thinks so. 



Not satisfied with gaining widespread applause for his mirthful clowning about linking the NRL refereeing disgrace to the push for a new super stadium - a great thigh slapper, that - he now is definitely having a shot at being Kipper the Comedian.



In the Astonisher during the week, this cut-price Seinfeld commented on his disappointment that ...

Clr Colleen Doyle before she heard the news ..

... and after.

.... Labor councillor Colleen 'Boo Hoo' Doyle was voted down as an official member of a junket to China - a fiscally aware Townsville First majority correctly knocked that wasteful Mullet-inspired idea on the head. 

The Kipper, the man who wanted to be mayor until he got a better back-door offer from his TEL chums, called it a 'narrow minded decision'. Saving the ratepayers $5500 is hardly narrow minded, especially for a negligible return.



But the real hoot is the reason for the Kipper's disappointment. (Are you ready for this?)



'If we are serious about this (trade delegation) we have to make sure our delegations have the diplomatic clout,' he told the paper.

(Gasp, wheeze, chortle) 

Boo Hoo Doyle and diplomatic clout? Now there is a form of words one wouldn't often - that is, never - hear in the same sentence - except from the puckish comedian boss of the Dudley Do Nothings. 

Just as rib tickling is the inadvertent admission that our man thinks he and Mayor Mullet don't have 'diplomatic clout' without Boo Hoo along for the ride. - oh, stoppit, ya killin' me.  

Of course, The Kipper is going on the China junket, too, and we will all be agog waiting for his report on the trip to tell us what he's achieved at the cost to and on behalf of the ratepayers. 

Oh, wait a sec ... that's right, we aren't allowed to be told, that sort of fiction isn reserved for a closed-door workshop for councillors only.

This whole sister city thing is a world-wide perk of local government everywhere, and we would be well shot of it. No matter what they say, there is precious little benefit of any sort to the ratepayers.

Other matters:

Uh oh, The Pie senses the theory of unintended consequences lurking in the background of all this political window dressing about naming and shaming juvenile offenders.

Just what is this measure meant to achieve? The ‘Pie doesn’t give a continental whether  these shiftless little hooligans are named, but you rest assured they won't be 'shamed'. They will soon be vying for their gutter culture’s top dog honours, a title belonging to the little snot who gets the most mentions in the media. It will immediately become a badge of honour, exactly the opposite of a deterrent, and it will spur some to even more capricious expIoits. The Townsville Bulletin is so adept at polishing these little turds into derring-do daredevils. In fact, that’s the way it happens now, except for the names The Pie saw it every day doing eight years of court rounds.

There is little political will for serious social solutions floating around in George Street, and there are no real meaningful initiatives emanating from that august bastion of all things conservative.

The Nanny State lives on in Queensland across a number of issues. These much-hyped boot camps are but one example. Sounds tough but in reality is just another touchy- feely exercise in outdoor holidays, which will simply reinforce juvenile arrogance regarding law breaking. The dictionary defines ’boot camp’ in this sense as  ‘a prison for youthful offenders, run on military lines.’ And that means discipline, but heavens my sainted aunt, that  apparently might be too emotionally confronting for the poor dears. That’s the popular catch cry obscuring real world solutions to juvenile crime.

Some time ago, The Magpie did a story testing out his suggestion that all juvenile offender’s sentences should include at least one mandatory half-day tour of the adult prison at Stuart  -including lunch, eating prison food might be a greater deterrent than any other factor. It would be a mini-scared-straight program, showing the realities of what lies ahead for them as adult crims. Stuart inmates could earn brownie points for agreeing to talk to the kids about life inside, and what they miss most in the outside world.

And do you know what the official reply from the then Labor government was? Not on.  Because – ready for this – it would traumatise the ickle dears.

For Christ’s sake, that’s the whole bloody idea!! You know traumatise, don’t you - that’s the feeling people experience who have burgled, mugged or had their car stolen by these little cretins.

While we’re in the harrumph department, another area that shows that this government is no different to previous jellybacks is the question of nightclub closing times.

Despite clear evidence from the extensive trial in Newscastle showing a 37% drop in alcohol related violence by closing at 3am, this government, like all before it,  is in the thrall of the liquor industry advocates who see a nice little earner is selling piss to those already as full as a barrister's wallet. The rorts that go on would be enough to buy another spinnaker for the yacht every week.

But it is costing a disproportionate amount of tax payers dollars for extra wallopers to keep things in check.

here's the obvious answer to any politician with any balls and sense of social responsibility. Turn back the clock and '1am, time ladies and gentlemen' and that’s it, the piss is off so piss off. If 3am means a 37% drop in violent fu#kwittery, it stands to reason 1am would drop the incidence of street problems to over 50% of current levels.

And ya gotta love the sheer brazen effrontery of local boozerarium spokesman Greg Pelligrini and his risible arguments against banning 5am closing. Top marks for consistency, though.

Far from the madding crowd:
Greg Pellegrini outside his much praised Avenues Hotel ... several kilometres away from his FSE clip joints.

For ages, Greg's mantra has been’ People ring me and thank me for keeping people here so they don’t go back home or their hotel and create noisy parties disturbing the neighborhood’ and ‘ a uniform closing time will create a mini-Armageddon with all these drunk people spilling out on the street at the same time violence will be worse not better.’ And ‘public transport and taxis won’t be able to cope’. (What's a piss weak argument got to do with you, anyway, Greg?)

So we are to take it that Greg is not an avaricious owner of a tacky couple of seedy night spots, but really, a public benefactor, in the interests of a well regulated community. He no doubt  selflessly puts aside his desire to personally be settled in at home and hearth with a hot cocoa reading John Stuart Mill on The Principals of Political Economy  - with some of the social applications of social philosophy'.

But Pelligrini the Pontificator’s the best line of the lot, fed to The Magpie when he was at the paper, was that the average working punter nowadays is so knackered from a day at the coal face he or she has to go home, eat and shower and have a bit of a nap before coming in to town for the night. So by the time they get ready to hit the strip, it is 10-ish, and with early closing, that limits their time for a night out, and operators’ chances to be ‘viable’ … read: rip off drunks.

Again full marks to Greg for keeping a straight face while peddling all this self-interested twaddle. But keeping a straight face is easy when you’re talking through your wallet. The sad truth is that the poor benighted workers he is championing actually arrived more than half tanked on take away booze to avoid the swingeing prices in Via Vomitorium’s clip joints.

And it just might be the case that they’re knackered because they stay out until 5am on the turps.

But what about Newcastle, Greg? Your thoughts on the success down there will be interesting, to say the least.

Other matters.

for councillors only.