Current Affairs Wrap: Spacey impeached as TV Prez, Manus Island runs dry, Baseball cap finds its way home

In a week bookended by the judgement of two Presidents, we saw the national empathy run dry for Manus Island and a whole city return a baseball cap.



Good morning, Pumpkins. The week that was certainly was. Ugliness once again washed over the protective dyke of our unwavering hope, staining the carpet of our national identity. We survived it, which is a positive, the negative is that we all get to witness what happens next. Oh no!



The impeachment of America’s other questionable fictional President, Kevin Spacey was made truth this week, as allegations of his efforts in the dark neon days of 1985 became known.



Since Monday, the builder of the House of Cards, Netflix, extended the boot ever further, first announcing that the aforementioned program will not venture beyond the sixth season, then suspending the actor, before completely severing the limb entirely.



Although, they should be commended for such a move, and one can only hope that it constructs a new line across the Walk of Fame, representing the new start position, and the hope that we won’t surreptitiously cross back over it, on the assumption that the job is done, now that significant heads have been lopped.


As we all feel, fresh allegations will surely follow, as the lid is barely ajar in can of touchy-feely vipers that hiss in the top branches of Hollywood. Game on.



Elsewhere in other pseudo-Presidential news, the current one was reminded of the one previous (yes, again), as he travelled to the newly sovereign nation of Hawaii as part of his tour of Asia. Suffice to say, considering O’Bae-ma proudly called that state his home, the residents certainly took umbrage with this interloper in their midst. Which is a strange thing to see, as I was totally unaware that the Hawaiians had a capacity for anger.



Anyway, the credit here must go to Donald Trump, for deciding to boldly step where pictures of the ex are deified, hung in shrines on mantlepieces and collective walls, where eyes are wracked with suspicion, actions frozen as the loafers he shuffles in soundtracks his entrance.

That being said, while the gene pool might be heavily chlorinated, the paternal apple from the overhanging branch has a short journey in order to make a splash, as Donald Trump Junior birthed his first true piece of divisive bullshit on Twitter. They grow up so fast.



Please read the comments. For those unfortunate enough to be yoked by Twitter, the above meme (and responding criticism) has been silently waiting around every corner; however, the jump scare long since lost its effectiveness, and the deathly overtures it commands, now harmless. See, I’m going to take half the point I made, and give it to another unrelated point. It’s never too early to teach kids about ineffective preambles.

That being said, the true horror that lurks around corners, is the actual issues, the ones we’re ignoring, because it’s an absolutely spiffing sport to cut the effete down. And I’m no different, but if you were looking for a pretext to carve an abusive tweet over breakfast this morning, may I offer you this option, sir/madam?




As the rhyme goes, we should not forget what today is, nor should we find a reason to forget what day it is. To save you googling it, today is the day of Guy Fawkes, the man who famously opened the narrative of V for Vendetta by failing to blow up parliament, but allowing Natalie Portman’s English timbre to denote thousands of years of proud English tradition.

Now, the reason why I bring up the man who became the movie, who became a movie prop, who became the face of every pimply hacker, is that while the romantic idea of relocating that pile of dynamite you’re saving to the catacombs under Parliament House sounds like a decent one, allow me to attach a caveat. Who are we going to replace them with? The banished? Prime Minister Malcolm Roberts? They might deserve it, but put the match down.

That being said, there are reasons why that might be preferable, as the crisis of Manus Island continues, as the apathy increases as the level of available water heads in the opposite direction.



The lack of noted response from Canberra is vexing as it is telling, as the notables decided to address the issue by ignoring it, to whit:



Real issues. That being said, the word came from the top, in that we’ve no stomach or desire for witchhunts. Ironically, a solution has actually arrived via New Zealand, one which was roundly rejected. Oh, well.

The entirety of the situation was well articulated by TBS alum Yassmin Abdel-Magied, who, if we wind our minds back to April, she was excoriated for questioning our Australianism. Six months on, the point seems sadly validated.





Weird and wonderful

As a society, we french kiss the idea of anonymous heroism. Be it the masked crime vigilante (despite them being billionaires, or worse, journalists), and we stoically muse on the unknown sacrifice of the unknown soldier. If we know not their names, we know their acts, and remember. In that mode of thinking, step proudly back into the shadows, mysterious staffer who momentarily saved the world by momentarily deleting the Twitter account of one Donald J. Trump.



For eleven golden, unheralded minutes, we were all free. Even if we were unaware.

And finally, the post-coital throes of the Houston Astros breaking their World Series virginity clearly overcame one fan, as the iron grip that held their cap to display their allegiance crumbled away, allowing the partisan piece of clothing to swan dive off the top floor of a building, meeting the floor, both literally, and emotionally, as aforementioned fan would have pumped their fists in collective victory, but individual failure.

No matter though, for the people of Houston mobilised, and walked as one, to return someone’s hat. It’s amazing what one World’s Series (and three Hurricanes) can do for the collective spirit. More of it, you lot.


Not the Hurricanes. No more of those.




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