I think we have, in the main, forgotten that a cape - that stalwart accessory of the superhero upper echelons - is inevitably just a bedsheet dyed a cool colour, and possibly bedazzled with a few funky sequins. The true cape? That's inside our hearts, our souls, and our hind-brain's knowledge of what is right, or wrong, behaviour for self and society.
Not to be all 'vanity, thy name is woman' about things, but I felt really, really great. REALLY great. And after a few weeks which I think can only be described as the bottom of the cat's tray of life, this was a moment in time which was not an ego boost, but just a little bit of hedonistic joy that, like a party, didn't hurt nobody, and made me feel special.
I realise that with the election finally being called, I should be making pithy (yes, pithy) social commentary about the current political climate and what I think is going to happen in September. But honestly? The Parly House gang make me feel so dispirited at present that I am going to talk about something more believable.
I wrote an entry a little while ago called 'I'll Get You My Pretty... And Your Little Dog Too' about the Wicked Witch from The Wizard Of Oz. Then yesterday, on Facestalk, I was begging Sleeping Beauty's evil fairy Godmother for some of that fabulous hundred years' sleep (I was really, really, REALLY tired). And it made me start thinking.
Were these so-called 'evil' women truly bad? Or did they just think living in a forest with seven dudes, or talking to mice and singing songs to bluebirds was a little bit doolally?
So here we go. The Abbreviated KS Audit of Fairytale Villianesses. (Clears throat, adjusts microphone). Please note all mention of the word 'evil' will be withheld until the conclusion. I thank you.
The Stepmother and Stepsisters, Cinderella.
So. You arrive at your new squeeze's home with two kids in tow. The new hubby casually turns around in the carriage and says 'Oh by the way sweetcheeks, forgot to mention, I've got a daughter... yeah, she's a bit weird, likes talking to rodents, spends a lot of time singing to them, worships me, thinks you're a real piece of work, doesn't want anything to do with the two girls. Probably should have said something before, sorry about that.'
He then dies and leaves you with the little oddball, who believes in invisible fairy godmothers (what the who now?) and doesn't want to pull her weight around the house. Plus, she thinks only a prince is good enough for her and makes up stupid songs about him which after a while really, really get on your nerves. You have two very unattractive lumps on your hands already. You don't need this crap.
Is it too much to ask her to bake some bread every once in a while? Hell to the no.
Get under that emberella, Cinders.
I thought we were trying to smash the glass ceiling - uh, I mean slipper - anyway...
EVIL FACTOR: Meh. Blended families. So not the Brady Bunch.
The Queen, Snow White
OK, so talking to a mirror is not exactly tip-top on the sanity scale, but if you view it as a fairy-tale form of FaceTime, who are we to judge? Again, there is a clear case of Electra complex going on here with dear Daddy and young Snowball. The whole 'eat her heart thing'... maybe there was a misinterpretation in the text? Let's face it folks, Snow White has to be one of the most annoying 'heroines' in fairytale history. Interrupting the home life of the Village People - uh, I mean the Seven Dwarfs, singing to bluebirds (what is it with these girls and singing to animals - they aren't Francis of Assisi), waiting around for some dude to rescue her...
I might eat her heart. With some fava beans. And a nice chianti.
EVIL FACTOR: Well, a little bit. She should have invested in a good eye cream and some anti-ageing serum. Maybe HRT. Or just got it on with the Huntsman. Snow White is SERIOUSLY annoying though. So can't blame her completely.
The Witch, Hansel and Gretel
Now this one... well! You're living quietly in the woods. You have invested your life's magic savings in a gorgeous cottage - just right for you and the cat. Decorated to your exact specifications by the Muffin Man (who lives on Drury Lane). Then, one morning, you hear 'chomp, chomp, chomp' - and suddenly there's a hole in the living room wall, Foxtel is on the blink, and two fat little kidlets are standing there with gumdrop smeared around their cakeholes.
Bugger that for a game of soldiers.
It's game on. You were really looking forward to the new series of True Blood and now you will miss out on naked Eric.
Don't even bother with the pepper and salt I say. Shove the little piglets straight in the pizza oven.
EVIL FACTOR: Non-existent. Didn't your parents ever tell you lollies were bad for you? You should have listened to them.
So there we have it. Three very badly misjudged women who aren't sitting around waiting for some nancy boy on a white horse to save them. These sisters are poisoning apples all by themselves! You may think otherwise and be on the side of the pretty (weird) young things, but not me. I say bring back the bi- uh, witch.
And hand me some of that gingerbread.
There is a horrible virus sweeping Australia. It's been here for a long time, but of recent years it has become more and more prevalent until now, in July 2013, it has reached crisis point amongst a certain - thankfully small - (and possibly expendable) sector of the population. Here are the symptoms to be watchful for:
- You find yourself making decisive hand-chopping gestures to emphasise a point;
- You talk in catch phrases like 'name the date', 'the rough end of the pineapple', or use alliteration like it's going gangbusters (sorry couldn't help it) ;
- You make up words ('conditionality'?)
- You spend approximately 95% of your time denigrating your fellow citizens who are involved in the same field of work as yourself;
- You are in a position to potentially do great good, but are too busy with all of the above to actually think about formulating public policy.
I'm sorry to tell you, but the diagnosis is in, and it doesn't look good.
You're a senior Australian politician. And the chances are, you're never going to get any better.
Not without a cattle prod anyway.
When exactly did our fearless leaders turn into rubber faced buffoons? And I am being bi-partisan here; there are exceptions to the rule, and those who know me are aware of the pollies I admire. But in terms of two tribes going to war, all I hear and see when I turn on the TV or radio is the worst kind of campaign being run by both sides; sloganeering, pure and simple.
I don't see any policies on offer per se; I see 'let's do this' - but no 'this is why we are doing it, and this will be the flow on effect in other areas'. I also don't see a response other than 'well, that's crackers, and we are awesome, so vote for us'. There is no answering alternative, just empty rhetoric. The mindless blah blah blah of talking heads who love the sound of their own voice rocking around the country.
Pig Iron Bob and Chifley must be turning over in their graves.
So how do we stop filibusteritis? Is there a treatment?
Possibly, but it may be painful for those involved.
Put them in a room together for a week with no TV cameras.
Oh, and Silvio Berlusconi.
That'll learn 'em.
Fair shake of the sauce bottle.