Saturday, December 02, 2006

And in the Fosters corner, Glenn Milne!

I'm sure by now you've all seen News Ltd politics reporter Glenn "The Hurricane" Milne making a drunken twit of himself at the Walkley Awards on Thursday night. If you haven't, have a squiz. (Thanks YouTube - without you, we would have missed out on the most hilarious stoush of the year.)

Nice performance, Hurricane. After all, why would you want to get trashed and have a go at someone in front of 20 or 30 people when you could make a fool of yourself in front of all of your peers in one fell swoop? And while being filmed for national television? Humiliation does seem to be the new black. To tell the truth, though, I would have had more respect for him if he hadn't said that it was caused by mixing migraine pills and alcohol. Excuses, excuses, old sport. You made a dill of yourself and now you're just going to have to wear it.

Stupid as Milne was to run on stage like a rogue elephant on cranky pills, I can't really find it in my heart to blame him for wanting to have a go. I like Crikey, but Mayne is a bit of a wanker. He's not quite a national disgrace, but he is a bit of a prat.

From the performance point of view, The Hurricane got points for delivering such a decent duck-shove that it knocked Mayne off the stage. After all, Mayne's a pretty tall guy. He also got points for nearly breaking free from the sound man who was hauling him away and having another go. On the other hand, he lost for the beet-red face (booze blossoms are never a good look) and the half tucked-in shirt. I thought for a moment he'd gone the whole hog and his fly was undone, but no. He got yet more points for having to be removed by security. In the opposite corner, Mayne definitely lost points by running away when Milne broke free to try to have another swipe at him, but he won a few back for the "sponsored by Fosters" quip at the end. Nice work, there tiger.

But on the whole, the winner was the Walkleys audience. They'll be able to say for years to come, "Oh, I was there the night Glenn Milne got pissed and let Stephen Mayne have it!" Ah, memories. The Australian public also won, because now they have yet another reason to say, "Meh, journos! They're just a mob of piss-heads who like starting fights."

So thanks, Hurricane. You've given me one more reason to say, "morgue attendant" next time someone asks me what I do for a crust.

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At 10:26 am, December 03, 2006, Blogger Scorpy said...

Milne has been a wanker for a long time...but he should have bought shares in crikey before he lost the plot...He may have made some money.. LOL
'Morgue Attendant' ???? Really???

At 10:35 am, December 03, 2006, Anonymous MikeFitz said...

I would also award Mayne points for the message from Rupert Murdoch: That was the FORMER Sunday Telegraph political correspondent, Glen Milne.

*shudders at the thought of Andrew Bolt having more space to operate in*

At 11:28 am, December 03, 2006, Blogger redcap said...

Scorpy, nah, I'm not really a morgue attendant (though I have visited the morgue). I'm a freelance journo/writer, but as soon as you say that at a party, the person either wants to have a go at you or tell you some long and involved story about their mother's friend's daughter being ripped off by her welfare-cheat landlord. No-one wants to talk to morgue attendants.

Mike, if we all say, "I don't believe in Andrew Bolts" perhaps one, somewhere, will die >:)

At 11:31 am, December 03, 2006, Blogger Ariel said...

I'll bet Stephen Mayne could barely believe his luck! I'd say it's worth a sore ankle for all that publicity, the rare opportunity to be the magnanimous victim, and the brilliant opening for the Murdoch one-liner.

At 8:20 pm, December 03, 2006, Blogger DelightfulJen said...

I love old guys getting drunk and rowdy, especially when it's on TV.

I was very impressed that depsite being trashed he had the aim and power to push the guy right off that stage.

There should be much more TV like this :)

At 9:32 pm, December 03, 2006, Blogger redcap said...

Ariel, yes, Stephen Mayne should thank Ford for his good fortune. I suspect the sore ankle was poetic licence, though.

D'Jen, the key is using both hands. That way, you're sure to make contact with at least one! As for the power, Glenn Milne may be a poison dwarf, but he's also a chunky one :)

At 2:44 pm, December 05, 2006, Blogger foodkitty said...

I noticed the morgue attendant started me wondering what the best thing to pretend to be is.
I was recently at a party where a brain surgeon was amazed that the ordinary looking man next to her was an international pilot. She was starstruck! But mortuary attendant, hmmm, wonder what she would have made of that?

At 9:43 pm, December 05, 2006, Blogger redcap said...

Foodkitty, wow, you go to great parties! A brain surgeon AND a pilot in the same room! My old boss (who is also a former journo) used to tell people she was a plumber. I would have gone down this path too, but I don't want anyone asking me to have a quick look at their washers. No-one ever asks you to lay out their great-uncle >:)

At 12:03 pm, December 06, 2006, Anonymous rodney said...

As a fully paid up member of the Brotherhood of Embalmers and Orifice Pluggers, I object to your blatant misrepresentation of yourself as a member of such an honourable and much respected profession and your assertion that our professional assistance is never sought at social functions is very offensive

At 3:43 pm, December 06, 2006, Blogger redcap said...

He he. Sorry, Rodney! :) Or should I say Raoul?

At 10:21 pm, December 06, 2006, Blogger raoul duke said...

I've been called a lot of things Recap, but an undertaker called Rodney overtakes them all. Ba dum tish. I agreed with your summary of the Mayne event (as I'm calling it) but I have to say I've always been a Mayne fan (he's my Mayne man, if you will) ever since he did me the very decent favour of putting his Jeff Kennet toppling website back online JUST FOR ME so I could use it for my university politics studies. I was saving that one for my biographer but you can have it for free. Ps: I know what you mean about admitting to being a hack. Here's one I get a lot. "So where do you get your stories from?"

Raoul: "They get hand delivered every day, by a man in a trenchcoat and black leather gloves, at precisely 9am, in a brown paper bag, with a red ribbon, but keep that on the low down, you dig?"


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