I think I might be in love with Jacinda Ardern.
I’ve tried to work out why I am so hopelessly transfixed. Maybe it’s a tooth fetish?
She sure has a set of pearly whites, does she not? I think they are simply beautiful, like the rest of her.
But it’s not just her physical beauty that’s drawn me in.
Her beautiful mind is what’s captivated me most of all.
For a long time now, I haven’t been able to glimpse a picture or video of her without feeling a surge of emotional goodwill to the woman. I’ve had to suppress a sob more often than I’d like to admit. True.
It’s a secret pleasure to respond to her in the way I do. Her vision causes a sort of physical reaction akin those uplifting final notes of Nessun Dorma, you know the ones, moments before the showman Pav used to shudder with climatic delight as to his vocal genius.
And I’ve felt that way long before she displayed those unsurpassed signs of true national leadership, humanity and compassion as she hugged mosque massacre survivors in Christchurch a few years back.
I wasn’t alone in knowing she was something special even before then; a once-in-a-generation politician with a love for her people and seemingly devoid of hubris and self-worth.
All of this fulsome praise for the lady comes at a bitter cost, of course. It’s impossible to worship her decency without being forced to compare her with our own prime minister.
The Liar from the Shire. The Smirk who Shirks Work. The Bogan Slogan Happy Clapper. The Bunnings Buffoon.
I get depressed just thinking about it.
So let’s go back to my Jacinda for a while. I’ve only adored her from afar these past years but my best guess is that during her first term as Kiwi PM, she never once made fun of the Wellington bubble and the political reporters who inhabit it, or ever began a reply with “I don’t accept the premise of your question…”
Or that she let down her people so badly during a crisis that she had to force people to shake her hand.
It’s also my best guess that during the recent campaign across the dutch, she talked more about the policy plans Labour had for the country than a constant stream of personal attacks on her opponent, such as “Judith Collins lies. That’s all she ever does. She lies and she lies and she lies.”
I’ll also wager that while she no doubt debunked some of her opponents’ plans, she didn’t resort to a farrago of fibs, a litany of lies that wilfully distorted just about every single plan by the Nationals and made up some more, such as a death tax scare.
Time might prove me wrong and I wouldn’t then love her quite as much but I’m confident she didn’t resort to pork-barreling on an industrial scale to secure victory.
Or before the campaign, conducted an unethical, unprincipled taxpayer-funded travelling parliamentary sideshow stitch-up of one of her opponents’ policies.
And I’ll bet my last bob she made some election speeches where she didn’t mispronounce a single word, let alone one every other sentence. Then again, perhaps she doesn’t drink.
At which point we return depressingly to the Rapture Guy. Scum-mo. Smoko. The Trickle-Down Guy. The Empathy Free Zone.
He might be riding high at the moment but this prick will always be to me a very average person of very average qualities who has risen far beyond his deserved station in life.
His past working life before politics and the way he weaseled his way into politics deserves an Icac of its own that could sit for quite a while before getting to corrupt practices while in government.
He is a flim-flam fraudster, a snake-oil salesman with a limited IQ but oodles of rat cunning wrapped around a persona that instinctively prefers a fib over the facts.
I look at Jacinda Ardern and feel nothing but uplifted joy at her kindness and her decency and a desire to see her fellow citizens on the lower rungs of society helped up to a better life.
I look at Smoko, the guy who wants to downsize government and farm more and more things out to his privateer mates, the heartless sociopath who’s happy to let a family rot in detention indefinitely if there’s just one extra vote in doing that, who instinctively knows how to milk the greed and/or racism of people, and I feel so sad and sorry for Australia. We deserve so much better.
With images of Jacinda I’ve often had to suppress a sob. With Morrison, I’ve often had to suppress a spew.