WOOLWICH DOCKYARD: "Stoke the fire with pringles!" P.L. Inkletter ordered. "One day we'll be off as a beagle to Darwin to study crocodile evolution...

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

11^th May 2010

Tuesday: It shouldn't come as a surprise to the billions of daily readers of this blog that I was very late to bed, not long before sun up, and I was not a well boy when I finally succumbed to Mistress Nodette's embrace, with a painful throat explaining to me why I have felt so extra tired and unwell these last few days – I have a cold!

I curled up alone because Missus Inkletter left me last Saturday… – she will return on Saturday next; she is on her annual holiday with the pree Inkletter clan, comprising herself and brutha and farter. Sleep was disturbed by having to take white comforters several times during the 'night'. It wasn't more than a couple of hours before dark that I summoned the energy to arise and face the 'day'.

Celestial Kitty Cadbury appeared at the back glass door, bringing a ray of sunshine with her. She was ill last week to the point of worrying us deeply that she would waste away to just a spirit, but she is thriving again. I had her on my lap many times during the night, for hours, stroking her smoothest of fur, gazing into her pure little tabby face, the face of a cat angel. I didn't want to, but in the last two months since she appeared as a scrawny starving kitten I've fallen head over heels in love with her. I am very fond of cats, thus all the more painful the sacrifice not to have had one for over thirty years.

My last pet cat died in 1978, at 18 years of age (taking over from my sister Mary, whose pet she was first, until she left home), and I had a psychic connection with her, Almondblossom. For years, when I fell ill, she fell ill, to the day; four thousand miles away in far North Queensland I became very ill, and I learnt from Mum by letter a week later that she did also, on the very day, and I was at my worst three days in, and Almondblossom died that day.

I have felt so under the weather tonight that I stayed in front of Aunty and SBS (where a giant crocodile was dissected and studied) till late, then watched Letterman, all the time with Cadbury for company.

Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: An important day for our nation, Federal Budget Day. From Canberra Ms Sales interviewed the leftovers from Kezza the Great, who got the big gun, the Treasurer Wayne Swan, for his 7.30 Report interview.

Never mind, because Ms Sales veritably glowed, looking magnificent, proving that talent and intelligence can exist with beauty and elegance without compromising a kind soul; she wore a light grey jacket with a layered wheat blouse, no necklace, tiny earrings, gorgeous coiffured hair, falling loose and flared, and the most subtle effect make-up, being a perfect example of less being more, especially letting her incomparable eyes shine without competing with dark and heavy eye shadow, dark and  heavy eyeliner, nor dark and heavy mascara. The only thing that I would have changed is the shade of the blouse she wore, for it was dangerously close to skin tone, but the ruffles saved the day. Imagine the effect had her blouse been the very colour of Access Economics' Chris Richardson's tie, a pumpkin to burnt orange shade! It would have set her face and hair aglow the more. Of course, rags cost money, and Aunty would not provide a wardrobe stipend I'd bet my left testicle.

The two pollies Ms Sales interviewed one at a time were Finance Minister Lindsay Tanner and his shadow, Andrew Robb. Mr Tanner looked great in his dark jacket and lavender shirt, set off with a striped pink tie, his 19 strands of hair lovingly arranged back. Very few people know this, but he has named each strand of hair after former Labor Party leaders; and I understand one of them is called 'Keynes'. Mr Robb was equally smartly attired, with his dark jacket and white and grey striped shirt, set off with a striped rufous tie, and he looks so wise with his glasses. I think Mr Tanner would gladly scalp Mr Robb and slap it on his noggin if there were no immune response issues.

Both these men were highly predictable, but I do find Mr Tanner the more enjoyable fellow to listen to, in fact there are few in Canberra who match him; for example, compare a chat with Kevin Rudd with a chat with Lindsay Tanner: I rest my case!

I admire Mr Tanner's intelligent salesmanship for the Government, with lines like "I think I've said hundreds of times publicly that, to me, good policy is always good politics…"; whether Labor can claim to have a monopoly on good policy is highly debatable of course.

It was a nice moment when Ms Sales interjected with Mr Robb: Mr Robb: "Well, again, did they acknowledge that they took over an economy, they inherited an economy which was the best in the world?"

Leigh Sales: "I have heard them acknowledge that, actually."

Oh, by the way, poor old Phillip Lasker, in an introduction piece, looked like I do at the moment, in fact like I do most of the time – in need of a month's sleep.

Anyway, Ms Sales certainly made the Budget much more interesting than otherwise with her efforts in Canberra today.

I have not forgotten, nor will I ever, that my mother and I were one second from death or very serious injury on Sunday, when I was driving her to visit sister-daughter Mary in East Victoria Park late in the afternoon, when on Oats Street a car crossed in front of us through a stop sign at the 60 kmh limit, either not having seen the sign or not caring, I'm not sure which. Mum would have taken the impact in the passenger seat, and we would have been pushed into the other lane for a head on collision with oncoming traffic.

+paytontedwithlove+

SANTIAGO: But polysyndetonically speaking either 84 marlins and numberless sharks or many pelicans and several dolphins in theory could tow an iceberg

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

04^th May 2010

Tuesday: Missus Inkletter and I enjoyed, as we always do, Aunty's First Tuesday Book Club; it is always the more interesting when the guest reviewers differ about a book, as there was a bit of tonight.

Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales interviewed

Finance Minister Lindsay Tanner, he resplendent in a dark suit white shirt combination, set off with a bold burgundy striped tie, his 19 strands of hair immaculately coiffed as usual, each one named, while she complementarily resplendent in a teal chiffon blouse and skin toned camisole, attractively flared loose falling hair, and tiny earrings being the total jewellery accompaniment. Two things were not quite perfect with Ms Sales' appearance however: skin toned cloth in the lower chest area is a no-no in my humble opinion for women in serious roles such as Lateline anchoring – both Whitney Fitzsimmons and Ali Moore seem to understand this rule very well, almost always utilising excellent contrasts to both skin and outer garments in the cleavage area; eyeliner and mascara that is too dark – some faces get away with it better than others: Ms Sales looks better when she adorns her lovely eyes with the most faint and pastel shades, including the eyeline. Her eye shadow was a nice light shade matching her blouse, but she could have done with a lighter eyeline.

Now for a tad on the interview: Lindsay Tanner is great to listen to when he's on his own: a straight talker, eloquent, sensible, down to earth. Nevertheless, he's still a political beast, and that instinct is always there, painting his party as God's gift to the nation somewhat.

Ms Sales did a good job of tackling Mr Tanner on Kevin Rudd's hyperbole and the toll it takes upon political credibility, and of course he ducked and weaved, most articulately, and proved himself a PR asset to his party, even though bullshit is still bullshit, even when buried beneath a rose bush.

I enjoyed Mr Tanner's description of Tony Abbott and Joe Hockey: "They're just giant bags of wind." While giving them a bit of a run for their money!

+paytontedwithlove+

FRANCONIA: "All old men eventually fall off their perches, even mountain men," reflects a stony faced Payton L. Inkletter. "Respect gravity, possums!"

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

03^rd May 2010

Monday: I took Bob swimming today, and he had a ball as usual.

I had spent all of (literally) the previous night finally getting The Dear Leader's hard drive setup with a reinstallation of Win XP, including the 80 Mb download for the antivirus program, which took about 5 hours with his dial-up connection! I now have my fingers crossed that fitting the hard drive back into his tower will result in a seamless operation, a working system as in my tower.

The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales shone tonight in but a simple light grey sheen jacket, tiny single stone necklace and earrings, subtle effect make-up, and highly effective hairstyle, being loose falling but widely flared: magic. She had two separate interviews tonight, the first with Access Economics' Chris Richardson, to do a dissection of the Henry tax review, the second with Lance Price, a Pommie political commentator, writer, and journalist, to talk about Thursday's British election; both men were outfitted very similarly: dark grey suits, white shirts, and dark ties.

These interviews were informative and of good quality, even though Mr Price missed an opportunity to chide Prime Minister Gordon Brown for being so spineless after he was caught calling that woman voter a bigot; he should have stuck his ground rather than trying to sanitise reality. Too many politicians are bad publicity averse, and dance around the issues so much that they become mere shadows; they end up standing for nothing, or put the other way, standing for everything. I'm not saying that I necessarily agree that the woman was a bigot, but if Gordon Brown thought so, then politely but firmly hold your ground mate! You remind me too much of Kevin Rudd's penchant for fleeing from public controversy.

Ali Moore returned to front Lateline Business tonight after a many weeks' absence; she demonstrated from get-go that she has not forgotten how to dress brilliantly for her role, with a suberb black jacket scarlet blouse contrast. She missed an opportunity to be gracious, though, to acknowledge and thank Whitney Fitzsimmons for her time in the chair while she was away.

+paytontedwithlove+

FÜHRERBUNKER: Of the abundance of hate, delusions of grandeur, fantasy, cruelty, inhumanity, and madness inhabiting me, I bequeath to any who want it…

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

30^th April 2010

Friday: I forced myself up about half eleven, having bunkered down about five, having spent hours fruitlessly trying to repair The Dear Leader's Win XP system overnight; this would be the tenth session I suppose over the this month when I have tried all the usual things, and last night's efforts finally had me get to the blue system repair screen using the six floppy disks method, only to be told after untold hours that the partition is too damaged to repair. Damn, the very scenario I have been working to avoid is now the only scenario: a complete reinstall, with its necessity of reinstallation of dozens of programs and tweaks, none of which The Dear Leader can do.

And so I was most weary when I set to to prepare for taking Bob swimming; getting the kitchen cleaned up somewhat for Missus Inkletter in the meantime, who is spending the day with Meg and Murrah Deeler, Meg recovering from her second year of aggressive cancer therapy.

A balmy day, and this found Bob in good spirits ready to go when I arrived at Guildford afore three, despite his beloved cigarettes going up by two bucks a packet from midnight last night (he was aware of this, mentioning it, but almost certainly not understanding the financial consequences to himself). The Swan Aquatic pool was quiet to start with, until the after school crowd stormed in, with the usual controlled riot ensuing.

Bob was keen to take a long walk afterwards, so we embarked from Ray Marshall Park in Woodbridge to Reg Bond Reserve in Viveash, by which time it was close to dark; the walk back was very pleasant, but having night vision would have been useful (I had a torch, thankfully). About a quarter of the walk has had a lot of work done on the pathway near Viveash since last we walked it, but a week or two back, making it a lot easier to hoof it. This particular walk along the Swan is most delightful, and I hesitate to recommend it lest millions come and spoil it.

It was towards 8 when I got home, and the poor parakeet had an icepack on her head, suffering a migraine. We discussed what might have brought it on, but couldn't pin it down to anything; she didn't have anything out of the ordinary to eat or drink when out today with the Deelers, other than a decaf coffee at a coffee shop, and so it is a matter of hope that they got that right, given the ill-effects too much caffeine can have on her.

I delivered vittles to The Dear Leader, and we watched The Collectors while I ate my vittles, excepting that the drowsy drop dead fell asleep, and I didn't even stir her to guess the Mystery Object, sensing that she needed the sleep more than the bragging rights for guessing the object.

I watched the umpteenth 'Hitler's Bodyguard', caught up with the day's bad news on SBS, and before I knew where I was, the wonderful 'Ladies of Letters' was on, followed by Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: How quickly the Friday night fight club comes around! Ms Sales was dressed in an outfit that she's made the mistake with before, a black jacket that while it is nice enough, it better suits a woman in her sixties, and the large pink six petalled embroidered floral material brooch was both too big and too low – three inches higher on her right shoulder and a couple to her right would make a good difference. The brooch was in the identical position to the last time I saw her wear it, suggesting it might be sewn on, if so, unpick it please and move it up; better still, don't wear this outfit. Maybe it's the collar style, but it ages her. Otherwise, she looked great! No, seriously she did, with tiny earrings, subtle-effect makeup and loose falling but all importantly flaring hair.

The sparring bucks tonight had last appeared together back in mid March, although it seems like only a couple of weeks ago: Michael (Mount Rushmore) Kroger, the former President of the Victorian Liberals, was on-screen from Melbourne, plutonicly resplendent in a dark suit with lines and white shirt, starkly set off with a dark blue patterned tie, and Paul (Johnson & Johnson) Howes, the National Secretary of the Australian Workers' Union was in-studio in Ultimo, also wearing a dark suit with lines and white shirt, but settling for a forces-of-light white tie with mid depth stripes.

The main issue that Ms Sales tried to get the boys to discuss intelligently was the postponing by Kevin Rudd of the ETS legislation, but try as she might, she got plenty of reaction but a dearth of intelligence out of them. I have to hand them all credit for how relatively politely they all behaved, but I was constantly pinching myself to be reminded that these two men are not sitting members of Parliament, because they might as well have been.

Cutting through Mr Howes' constant use of the phrase 'the reality is', could there be any doubt the he will run for pre-selection for Labor one day? His efforts tonight were those of a total apologist for the Government, while his day job is rooting for his union.

However, Mr Howes' lovestruck support for the Government paled into insignificance compared to Mr Kroger's attack upon Prime Minister Rudd, causing me to wonder was Mr Kroger denied some badly desired Vartamurn Lurv by his missus last night or this morning?

Here are most of his disparaging statements about Kevin Rudd: "this disastrous Prime Minister who is the worst prime minister I've ever seen in this country in my lifetime - the worst and getting worse."; "This man believes in nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's a fraud as a prime minister."; "this is a man without beliefs, without a narrative. What does he stand for? Nothing. Nothing."; "a prime minister with no views, no values, no principles and no philosophy. He just picks up the latest fad, runs with it."; "Everything Kevin Rudd touches turns to disaster."; "he's gonna keep the focus entirely on health because everything else he's touched has been a disaster."; "he's made a total hash of everything he's touched."; "Listen, Kevin, you are a public policy disaster zone. Do not touch the tax system between now and the election or you'll make a mess of that too like you've made a mess of everything": "This man has almost no achievements"; "the people who watch politics are aghast with Rudd's performance."

Now the foregoing list will achieve one thing for certain: any reasonable listener will have to discount Mr Kroger's 'insight' substantially, because, while no-one's perfect, least of all Kevin Rudd, the Prime Minister is nowhere as bad as Mr Kroger's invective explicitly paints. A psychologist could have a field day analysing his state of mind from tonight's venomous and ludicrous output; Kevin Rudd has definitely got under Mr Kroger's skin, and if Mr Kroger wants to see him removed from office he'd be well advised to focus his energies into becoming a voice of moderate reason and give believable grounds for the electorate to oust him. (He could do well to model himself, regarding a moderate and intelligent approach, upon a guest Ms Sales interviewed recently, David Frum.)

How can Mr Kroger expect to be taken seriously if he clocks up interviews like tonights?

However, Mr Kroger's hyperbole is based upon some reality: Prime Minister Rudd is the most plastic prime minister I can remember, obsessed with political correctness, and apparently, based on reliable sources, a nasty piece of work in private, and as expert a media manipulator as they come. Nevertheless, he does have worthwhile leadership qualities as well, and has made progress and achievements that have and will benefit our nation. Turkeys like Mr Kroger tend to blab themselves into decreasing relevance with performances like his tonight, and we can be grateful for the amount of rope Ms Sales gave him so that he could hang himself, because it is valuable to know the weaknesses of the movers and shakers in our society.

Forgive me for criticising little the performance of Mr Howes, but don't take that to mean that I approve of most of what he says, but I do hand him the belt for winning tonight's duel, simply because he was the more balanced and moderate; having said that, Mr Howes could have thrown a tantrum for the duration of the interview and he would still have won on these grounds tonight, due to Mr Kroger's over the top puerile behaviour.

Like the Fremantle Doctor on a forty plus day, Stephen Long blew in for his minuscule few minutes of glory, restoring my faith in humanity: The (Stephen) Long and Short of It: My word how spiffy Mr Long looked! A strong blue tie with subsersive motifs set off his faintest shade of blue shirt surrounded by a solid dark blue jacket, his closely cropped curls lacquered down, much to his Mum's dismay.

That disaster that just won't go away, the Greek sovereign debt crisis, was yet again the topic for discussion, a whole greedy three minutes of it. I don't think Mr Long smiled once, as he delineated the dire situation and the black future for Greece, and the risk of financial defaults spreading to the other vulnerable EU nations. And it is good that he told it like it is. The fairy tales do us no good.

I wonder how much extra influence Germany will wrest out of all of this mess, and how long it will take that thorough and patient, if often deluded, nation?

+paytontedwithlove+

HAMILTON: "If the earth didn't just move for you Honey, we'd better get out of here fast!" P. L. Inkletter frantically tells his Missus with magnitude

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

26^th April 2010

Monday: Again I blurred day and night, 'retiring' for the 'night' towards midday from the day of Sunday; if you can make sense of that, well done.

I wanted to speak to Janny before she set off for the 250 km drive north from Balingup with her serious bruises on both legs and an arm, and she felt confident she would do the drive okay, with several stops. That chat was at about 9 this morning, and the next several hours involved some gardening and research online for writing matters, and I couldn't consider sleep till I'd made some progress with this and a related phone call.

In my stupor during the afternoon, having left the bedroom door open, I heard Janny and The Dear Leader arrive home, and my darling wife spoke to me before closing the door to let me sleep on; I saw her bruised legs, and they were a sight not to see! Nor was her left arm. Massive bruises, and she is very lucky not to have broken anything or knocked her head last Thursday when the trip-over happened. I let my gratitude be known to the higher world that she fared so well, all things considered.

I surfaced by arrangement around half six, feeling profoundly tired and nowhere ready to rise; however, things needed attending to, including giving a lift home for The Dear Leader, and unloading his luggage from the six days away.

As always, Q&A was worth watching, despite Germaine Greer's attempts to be her usual 'Germary Germary quite contrary', and before I knew where I was, it was Lateline time: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales, attired very pleasantly and smartly in a light grey jacket over a white longsleeved blouse, complimented with subtle-effect makeup and loose falling flared hair, and her only jewellery being gold stubbed small pearl earrings, interviewed David Frum on-screen from Washington, looking very acceptable in a dark grey suit and lilac shade shirt, set off with an olive green sheen patterned tie, and an impressively manicured, fertilized, and watered artificial turf defining his upper forehead line (making me wonder if Mr Frum had acted on the observation by Danielle Crittenden, "...most women, given a choice, will prefer a tall man to a short one, a thick-haired one to a bald one..." in her book 'What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us…').

Ms Sales used the opportunity represented by Mr Frum's willingness to discuss very well, and this articulate, intelligent, and moderate conservative waxed analytical while actually answering Ms Sales' questions: doesn't it translate to a far more informative experience when the interlocutor is not facing an electorate's vote!

It became evident why some prominent folk in the Republican movement are unhappy with this fellow, because his neck hardly displayed any sunburn at all. God forbid that observations of reality actually be fearlessly stated by notables within any party, even if these observations don't appear to support the party's electability.

One of the wonderfully astute things Mr Frum said was "…we also always have to remember we are connected to the right. We are not hostile to them, we are in a continuum with them, but we have to be a coalition and it can't always be true that the loudest and most extreme voice gets to make every decision." What piqued and impressed me here was his use of the underused concept 'continuum', and the fact that he used it perfectly.

Having admitted I found him refreshingly astute and a balanced voice of relative moderation in many ways, I don't agree with his opinion in everything; of course, this should be less a surprise than would be finding a person who agrees with everything someone else believes in.

Back to some more of his wisdom: his comment "…we are in this very sick relationship with China where they lend us too much money too cheaply. That creates a lot of debt opportunities for American households..." was most accurate; he called it a "sick dynamic", and rightly so. However, the consumer credit mentality of the American (Australian, British, …) citizen is more the problem than the opportunity to borrow.

Mr Frum's assertion "the first job of an economic leader is wealth creation" is a qualified truth as far as I'm concerned; wealth creation is essential of course, but it also needs wise attention to ensure the egalitarian opportunities to do this and benefit from it; I'm not sure to what extent he was isolating the President's role to being an 'economic leader' by his choice of words, but anyway, I don't accept that a President's (or Prime Minister's) role is solely that of economic leadership, and some of the other roles, if properly fulfilled, will attenuate, at times, financial wealth creation.

His description of the likely demise of the cap and trade scheme legislation due to the threatened withdrawal of support by Republican Senator Lindsey Graham as a "mercy killing" from the Democrat's point of view was funny but savvy.

Ms Sales pursued Mr Frum on his point in passing that Sarah Palin will never be President, and he gave insightful reasons based on research; when I first heard her and considered her statements during the 2008 campaign I decided that if the U.S.A. even elected John McCain with her as his running mate, then they had gone more completely mad than I thought they were, based on the simple fact that she would have been the emergency President-in-waiting beside an elderly man. I was staggered by McCain's poor judgment on that one. Not because she is a woman, but because of the substance, or lack thereof.

He made a quick reference to strong national defence: I think Obama needs to be very careful in his watering down of his nation's defence, and he needs to understand what his nation's enemies respect.

Ms Sales explored Mr Frum's resignation from the conservative think tank The American Enterprise Institute, and he shone, in my opinion, in his remarks about it. And after he gave a lucid rejoinder he added "I see myself as a strongly committed Republican, but I'd like to navigate by the facts and not by my wishes, and there is a lot of fanciful thinking inside the Republican Party these days."

He sensibly noted that Obama's health care plan is here to stay; he even noted the benefits within it. He then said "So you don't build your politics on fantasies … I'm telling us bad news for sake of generating success in the future." Here is one very persuasive man, flavouring what he says with intelligence and insight.

When Ms Sales raised the article "Unpatriotic Conservatives" which Mr Frum wrote in 2003, he interrupted – politely, despite being animated and flustered by the attribution she applied to it – and vigorously defended what he claims he actually said, not what people think he said, and while I haven't read it, I would not be the least bit surprised, judging by the man's acumen in this interview, if his defence is right. Ms Sales said she had read it, and I have no doubt she had, for she is one journalist who puts in the hard yards, from my observations, to be well researched and informed, before interviewing her subjects.

Mr Frum finished with "My mission in my politics has been consistent over the past decade, which is to build a party that stands for free enterprise, stands for a strong national defence, but is connected with the broad centre of American public opinion." He isn't perfect, and probably would admit this, but I wish we had a lot of politicians and politically involved folk in Australia of his calibre; and this despite there being in all likelihood much political philosophy I could take issue with him on. High quality on both sides of the political divide is good for a nation's advancement.

In terms of cogent analysis and opinion per minute, overlaid with the fragrance of decency, this interview is right up there, and I thank Ms Sales and Mr Frum for bringing it about.

+paytontedwithlove+