There is nothing, I’m sure you’d agree, more fascinating, more delightful to observe, or more satisfying to the soul, than to see two grown men poke their tongues out at each other, fully extend to the other, the middle digit of both hands and for good measure unbuckle the belt, lower the trousers, and let loose with the most farshtinkener of commentaries about the other’s general history in business and public life.
Such has been the antics on radio, in print and naturallement on the blogs of Melbourne identities Stephen Mayne and Andrew Landeryou.
It’s been an incredible week. A week of hawking up the biggest mucus laden gorbies and projecting them with a lack of subtlety that must have Tim Blair green with envy. It’s been a week that the people of Melbourne have simply loved.
For those unfamiliar with the back story, it’s all about the forthcoming State election. Mr. Mayne, of Crikey fame is involved in a fledgling political party known as People Power, and the boys got rowdy when one of People Power’s main candidates quit, and Mr. Landeryou claimed credit for the scalp.
Ever since then it’s been the best entertainment going in Melbourne this week, and even I have made a surprise appearance in my deliberately mistaken identity cameo role, but hey, that’s OK. It’s all part of the fun.
I’m not sure how much more entertainment the boys will be able to squeeze out of this story, but Melbourne awaits with spine tingling anticipation to see if the gauntlet will truly be thrown down and if these middle aged gentlemen will do the honourable thing and have it out in a mud wrestling ring in the nuddy, live on TV.
It is inspirational stuff, and it inspires the social philosopher in me, and so I leave you with this observation. Although Sydney might have its glistening harbour, and Brisbane the weather, Perth the money, Adelaide the hills, Hobart the quaintness and Darwin the possibility. There’s no question about it. Melbourne has the culture.
Thx for that Rex. Lots of fun.
Landeryou certainly cultivates the “I’m a political insider who knows much more than all you f***wits” style, but asserting that Rex is Evan Thornley (when just about anyone who has been to a Melbourne blogging get-together knows otherwise) rather tends to suggest that he’s a spectacularly unreliable source of analysis or even political gossip. Still, as Nicholas says, he’s quite entertaining (as is Mayne).
Who would be interested in this sideshow if there was a Melbourne team in the grand final?