So let me get this straight: A greasy hamburger made by a minimum wage teenager is “fast food” but an equally greasy pork bun with onion rings made by some tattooed hipster is “dude food”. That’s the lesson I took from Sunday night’s episode of MasterChef.
I don’t want to hyperbolise, but the Federal ALP is in worse shape than an obese Americans who has been wedged inside their trailer home for the past 10 years. Forget winning the next election, Labor will be lucky return to government before Wyatt Roy retires.
They’ve tried every trick in Graham Richardson’s little black book. They focussed-group their policies to the Nth degree. They pinched John Howard’s immigration policy. The even held there noses long enough for Peter Slipper to get his leg over in the Speaker’s Chair.
Bereft of contemporary ideas, the ALP’s faceless men may be forced to that continuing source of inspiration for political romantics, the legend of King Arthur. Continue reading →
Newspapers need a new audience. One that doesn’t care about things like popularity or convenience. One that would value the industry’s 300-year history and appreciate form over function. In short, newspapers need hipsters.