Sod Movember, I'm launching "Pundit-free December"

Lorenzo Medici. Happily his views on the National Broadband Network or the Victorian election are unknown.

I’m currently reading a history of the Medici family and its role in the often turbulent history of Florence but quite frankly, reading the history of the McGuirk family and its role in the often turbulent history of Upper Bumcrack would be preferable if the alternative was to read every single pundit/opinion leader/analyst/dickhead-with-a-keyboard piece that currently seems to infect every single media outlet these days.

At some point during my enforced convalescence (and it may have been around about the time when the really, really strong painkillers kicked in*) they all began to blur into one; a multi-headed hydra with an opinion of the National Broadband Network, Julia Gillard fashion’s sense, the Green preference deal and cats**.

What rage! What passion! They storm the heavens and defy the Gods***! They vent and plead in The Drum and The Punch and The National Times and Crikey, these great and good who have the inside story and know what exactly needs to be done.

And yet.

The net effect of reading too many of them seems to produce nothing but nausea and confusion****.

What do they add? Do any of their pieces add to the sum total of knowledge in the world or at least in Canberra? Or are they all a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I’m going for the latter.

* You know that point? Where you start to smile at strangers? That point.

** Cats and dogs! What’s the deal there?!

*** Although obviously not the ones with the Kraken. Because if you defy the Gods and they have a Kraken, you’re kind of fucked.

**** Or maybe it was just the really, really strong painkillers.