Kievan Rudd

REMEMBER when Kevin Rudd zipped off to Moscow and everyone thought he was on a one-man mission to broker peace?

REMEMBER when Kevin Rudd zipped off to Moscow earlier this year and everyone thought he was on a one-man mission to broker peace between Russia and Ukraine? Rudd dismissed some of the theories as “old cobblers” (there’s a gag about taking sole responsibility somewhere in there), but the image was irresistible. After all, if there was anyone capable of talking Vladimir Putin into bewildered submission, it was surely the emeritus Wholly Roamin’ Emperor. So when the government this week announced its intention to open an interim embassy in Kiev (or Kyiv, as we should be spelling it now), one potential ambassador leapt to mind. Not least for writer Elle Hardy, who took less than 18 nanoseconds (give or take) to nominate Rudd. At Strewth we take our sense of public duty seriously, so we put the idea before Foreign Minister Julie Bishop. “Kevin as the last line of defence against the Russians is an interesting prospect!” she told Strewth before jetting off to the NATO meeting. So we’ll take that as a “maybe”.

Digital democracy

PERHAPS the oddest moment of yesterday’s question time was prompted by Labor’s Ed Husic’s use of a digit to perform what he later insisted was a Captain Hook impersonation. Husic was obliged to avail himself of the nearest exit, which was par for the course. What Speaker Bronwyn Bishop said, though, was not: “If I see any more single fingers in the air, they can leave immediately.” She never made perfectly clear whether she intended the fingers to be accompanied by their owners, or whether she’s preparing to impose some sort of Yakuza-like ritual on question time. With Bishop, one shouldn’t rule out anything too hastily.

Lifeless of the party?

OVER the years, Strewth has found various ways to describe the soothing aura of Acting Prime Minister Warren Truss, most recently suggesting he has a presence like a Jason recliner and a voice so soothing it makes one hesitant to operate heavy machinery. But some eschew this gentle, nearly poetic approach. Yesterday, for example, Malcolm Turnbull was up at the dispatch box by the PM’s chair, invoking the only movie that springs to mind in which the main character is a corpse. Cooking up a metaphor about a dead Labor policy and a couple of Labor members, Turnbull suggested merrily they “found themselves in not just a Weekend at Bernie’s, but a long weekend at Bernie’s.” Whereupon Graham Perrett called out, “You’re standing next to him.” The mirth was a tad cruel, but at least it was bipartisan.

Inherit the mirth

SPEAKING of mirth, there was an expression your Strewth correspondent’s father was particularly fond of deploying during moments of less than total joy: “It’s enough to make a cat laugh.” It’s been echoing faintly in our brain these past couple of days when we’ve been pondering the question: what would be enough to make a Swan laugh? As noted in Strewth yesterday, it was prompted when former treasurer Wayne Swan tweeted his thanks to this august organ and our colleague Annabel Hepworth for “promoting my ABC The Drum op-ed & #TheGoodFight on your front page!”, adding, “You guys really crack me up.” This got us wondering: was Swan capable of laughter? We couldn’t remember any instances, but rather than rely on the patchy facility we refer to as our memory, we put out a call for evidence. Happily, Swan himself answered our call, replying, “To solve the mystery, I do laugh, most commonly when reading The Australian (as most thinking Australians do).” We’re sure he’s referring specifically to Strewth, but just to be on the safe side, let’s indulge in the low but ancient art of selectively editing criticism to produce this endorsement: “Reading The Australian, as most thinking Australians do” — Wayne Swan. Lovely, isn’t it? (Strictly speaking, though, it’s not proof Swan can laugh. For this, we had to turn to our colleague Tom Dusevic. It’s a long story, but when Dusevic was interviewing Swan at Swan’s home in 2007, Dusevic — thanks to a complicated and, frankly, curious set of circumstances — stuck the iPod he was using as a recorder into a freshly brewed cup of tea. The result? The then shadow treasurer fairly pissed himself, convulsing with laughter. So that settles that, then.)

Pause for thought

MEANWHILE our colleague Paul Kelly addressed the National Press Club yesterday. During the Q&A bit at the end, a student from John Calvin School in Albany, Western Australia, got up and did not mince words: “Mr Rudd claims to be a Christian. Would he have done better if he had maintained his moral convictions?” Same could be asked of a number of our pollies, but it prompted a rare moment from Kelly: “I’m almost stumped for an answer.” We’re not sure when this last happened, if ever.

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