Parsley's Universe

In a move today that signals the AFR’s attack on Samantha Maiden may have backfired more spectacularly than previously thought, the formerly “serious” business news site adventured into satire. The journal that has spent many a happy hour ridiculing Rio Tinto’s erstwhile (female) Communications Director and recently lost its defamation case against a (female) investor suddenly appeared to be on the ropes following an unexpected backlash at its jibe at a (female) journalist.

Relying on an established (male) journalist not known for satirical humour, the beleaguered AFR featured an article making fun of the latest cabinet reshuffle to promote women’s issues.

Rowan Dean, who also plies his trade as a scientific expert on Sky News Australia (alongside former Australian Liberal Party member Craig Kelly, now recent cross bencher) is a firm advocate of debunked hydroxychloroquine treatment as a covid cure. Unexpectedly, Dean got a gig poking fun at commentating on the government’s recent cabinet reshuffle. No-one can quite explain why.

Whilst* hard to believe that someone would pay for this commentary, Dean made some pedestrian forays into humourising the Prime Minister’s new appointments. Maybe the male readership needed a nudge to realise that these new ministerships were pretty banal? And maybe the AFR hadn’t realised that some of their subscribers are actually members of the fairer sex, and had already got the joke?

Now whilst the leading satire sites may not be paying attention, I think it’s worth drawing their attention to this abberation. Yes, Rowan Dean is no satirist. But the AFR clearly needs a distraction from its continuing editorial fails. This may become a serious new direction.

The reason for hitting the keyboard tonight is simply to warn Charles Firth & Co. to wake up and point out that the time may have come: you really need to instal the soft serve machine. The Chaser, The Shovel and the Betoota Advocate all need to be on guard! The AFR is trying to reposition itself as it is no longer able to class itself as a serious newspaper…

And let’s face it, if the Union for Chaser Interns gets wind of how dire the AFR’s paid satirists are, they may well strategise and inform the AFR they could lure real talent to their platform by offering soft serve! No money required!

Charles, it’s time to negotiate!

#instalsoftservenow #stopthesteal

_{*I am not writing a fairytale. I am tethered to “whilst” as a current and relevant writing style}

An American movie that provides an Australian allegory.

The Easter break can mean only one thing in Parsley’s Universe. A total emersion in Netflix. Sporadic forays into kitchen and bathroom for essential food and wee breaks, maybe. But, then back to the sofa. Feet up, brain off.

Robbie Williams offered to entertain me, but I prefer to let the big screen be my thing.

And so there we were. The Easter bunny was hopping languidly on the horizon. My brain was ready to float away and I selected a chick flick du jour. A tale for teens. A gentle indulgence for a middle-aged mother.

I chose Moxie.

BAM! My brain flicked back on.

I guess most of the western world waits for America to do things first. So as Brittany Higgins kicked off a #MeToo reckoning in the corridors of Australian power, with women old and young here just starting to find their voice, America’s women have had time to start telling not just their own stories, but creating universal stories about female experience.

And in Moxie’s cast, we see everything our newsfeed is relaying to us about the toxicity of our society, but set within the confines of a schoolyard.

Mitchell, the patriarchy. No matter how much of a shit he is, he’s still getting away with it. He’s leader of the voting in the objectifying “school awards”. It’s so close to reality, you can almost hear the Terrace boys on the school bus classifying the Grammar girls as they get on. And you don’t need me to call out our politicians’ names to see the parallels.

Seth, despite his weird choice of skate parks and first date venues, the ally we all need and hope for. A human with the values I hope my son has absorbed and understands. A male so confident that he doesn’t feel attacked when women ask to be equal.

Principal Shelly, the female leader. Elevated and awarded by the patriarchy, yet her grasp on power so tenuous. Annette Kimmitt, formerly at Minter Ellison, the most recent example of what happens if you fail to stroke the male ego or be an apologist for a man that breaches an institutional protocol.

Then there’s the girls.

I want to be Lucy – she’s my hero. She’s the Samantha Maiden, Laura Tingle, Louise Milligan, Katharine Murphy, Amy Remeikis, Lisa Wilkinson, Karen Middleton or Jessica Irvine. Angry activist? Or magnificent maven? The girl who doesn’t answer the question posed, but poses a question of her own. Her thinking original, free and challenging.

I’d like to be like Kiera, who is possibly the most talented sportsperson in school. (I’d love to be talented at sport. At least I have a talent for loving sport). But despite her gifts, she wasn’t born with the innate gift of a dick. So no scholarship for her.

I’m really a Claudia. The conformist. The one who doesn’t want to rock the boat. Not because I have the same pressures as Claudia. I was born with the innate privilege of whiteness. But we build our own walls sometimes.

And there’s Emma. The cool girl that everyone wants to be like. The girl who fits in, the most popular girl in school The cheerleader who goes to parties and knows how to have fun in a crowd. I somehow never aspired to be an Emma. I never understood the code for cool, and it all seemed a bit too complicated. And maybe there was a part of me that knew that being popular was dangerous. Too much of a good thing, and all that. Maybe the phrase was coined for male attention.

Because Emma is the Brittany Higgins of the story. The one who has suffered a terrible ordeal by the chosen one. The golden boy. The patriarchy.

Throughout the film, the Moxie gang show us what sisterhood and allyship should look like.

We’ve seen the sisterhood turn up in the response to Aaron Patrick’s article attacking a fellow female journalist for having the audacity to do her job and telling Brittany Higgins’ story. Sadly for Annette Kimmitt, when the AFR* boys did a hatchet job on her, the same rocket launcher of female opprobrium did not unleash for her.

And finally, Vivian is the person we all can be. The one who eschews the platform, the focus, the attention. But realises that there is a problem and we need to be part of the solution. We need to join our voices. Our female voices, voices of different hues and tones, genderqueer voices and harmonised with those of male allies. So that others know it’s OK to raise their voice, too.

And so, here we are.

Parsley’s Universe (Parsley – a teenage nickname at work): My little foray into the role of Vivian. Or, more plausibly, Lisa. A mother (albeit not much of a rebel in my youth) who wants to empower her daughters, to stand up for our rights, to let my voice be heard, to be a strong ally to those who are different to me and most importantly, to live a full life on a truly equal basis.

Let’s grow stronger every day. xx

_{*strangley, the proliferation of articles decrying Kimmett’s email to staff no longer appear in searches of the AFR site.}

#March4Justice