Compassionate women refuse to kick my husband when he’s down
Feb 17, 2024 7:39:17 GMT 8
NFA and cardimona like this
Post by NFA on Feb 17, 2024 7:39:17 GMT 8
Compassionate women refuse to kick my husband while he’s down
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When the then-national director of political lobby GetUp, Simon Sheikh, collapsed on live television, there was no rain of condemnation; he wasn’t swaddled off and shipped into the night – and there were no calls for him to resign.
Far from his fellow “Q and A” panellists – appearing on the ABC show in July 2012 – acting as armchair doctors or psychiatrists, humiliating him, musing on his mental health or guessing how many reds he’d quaffed in the green room earlier, he was whisked straight to hospital.
Once there, actual doctors with medical degrees and knowledge of his personal history assessed him.
Mr Sheikh was allowed to respond in his own time, apologising for causing concern, and tweeting that he had been burning the candle at both ends.
This is how a political actor on the other side of the pendulum was treated.
After the recent ridiculing of my husband, National Party MP Barnaby Joyce, next on the agenda were armchair diagnoses wrapped in faux sympathy by politicians, not doctors.
From the very same individuals who, utterly inebriated themselves, have been escorted into Z sleds, their taxpayer-funded COMCARS.
In their frenzied condemnation, it must have escaped memory.
Rather than opt for back briefing or add dung to the pile-on, it was strong female leaders of the Labor, Liberal and Nationals parties, including Tanya Plibersek, Sussan Ley, Hollie Hughes, Jane Hume and Perin Davey, who first chose compassion over cruelty, injecting a shot of humanity in a city that had shown itself sorely depleted of it.
Labor Minister Tanya Plibersek, especially – given she got up at Monday’s dawn to debate him – resisted what others slobbered over, an exploitative opportunity to kick a conservative when he’s down.
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When the then-national director of political lobby GetUp, Simon Sheikh, collapsed on live television, there was no rain of condemnation; he wasn’t swaddled off and shipped into the night – and there were no calls for him to resign.
Far from his fellow “Q and A” panellists – appearing on the ABC show in July 2012 – acting as armchair doctors or psychiatrists, humiliating him, musing on his mental health or guessing how many reds he’d quaffed in the green room earlier, he was whisked straight to hospital.
Once there, actual doctors with medical degrees and knowledge of his personal history assessed him.
Mr Sheikh was allowed to respond in his own time, apologising for causing concern, and tweeting that he had been burning the candle at both ends.
This is how a political actor on the other side of the pendulum was treated.
After the recent ridiculing of my husband, National Party MP Barnaby Joyce, next on the agenda were armchair diagnoses wrapped in faux sympathy by politicians, not doctors.
From the very same individuals who, utterly inebriated themselves, have been escorted into Z sleds, their taxpayer-funded COMCARS.
In their frenzied condemnation, it must have escaped memory.
Rather than opt for back briefing or add dung to the pile-on, it was strong female leaders of the Labor, Liberal and Nationals parties, including Tanya Plibersek, Sussan Ley, Hollie Hughes, Jane Hume and Perin Davey, who first chose compassion over cruelty, injecting a shot of humanity in a city that had shown itself sorely depleted of it.
Labor Minister Tanya Plibersek, especially – given she got up at Monday’s dawn to debate him – resisted what others slobbered over, an exploitative opportunity to kick a conservative when he’s down.