Now that testimony at the Hayne royal commission is finished, I’m beginning to suspect I’ll miss the drama.
There was a veritable line-up of heroes and villains. In a twist, the lawyers were the good guys, with the erudite, bespectacled duo of Rowena “Shock and Awe” Orr and Michael “babyfaced assassin” Hodge somehow making the legal profession seem noble and attractive.
This is a gross misrepresentation, but you have to admire their moxie.
Commissioner Kenneth Hayne, of course, was above nicknames. As the quick-witted, sleepy-eyed arbiter of the grand spectacle, he didn’t need one.
Superheroes, the lot of them. But without villains, superheroes don’t have a job.
Fortunately, our banking system is predominantly led by wealthy, middle-aged men. Tall poppies like this – pretty low on society’s sympathy list at the best of times – are tailor-made for villainhood. The thought of saying goodbye to the theatre makes me inordinately morose.
Fortunately, the answer to my doldrums is clear – let’s do it again!
The current Royal Commission into Aged Care Quality and Safety has the potential to be a revelatory and dramatic sequel to the inquiry into finance. An MP from the Nationals is calling for a royal commission into misuse of market power by the country’s supermarkets and petrol retailers, which could also keep the fire burning (we all know petrol is a rip-off, and supermarket shop-a-dockets are probably evil in some way).
In fact, don’t stop there. What good have our schools done lately? Teachers work paltry hours and dole out endless streams of homework at taxpayer expense. Give them a grilling.
Television could do with a royal commission as well; I still don’t understand why the volume on my flat screen doubles during commercials, or where the good programs go during summer.
What about religion? Let’s see those ministers open up the books to ‘Shock and Awe’ and feel the spotlight on their clerical collars. The Australian cricket team could do with one of the queen’s inquisitions, as could the godforsaken Wallabies. Having said that, asking the royal monarch to clean up Australian sport would give my English mates more satisfaction than I’m willing to bear.
Is there anything not worthy of a royal commission? Internet providers. Telephone marketing. The road toll on the M5. The exorbitant price of lamb and the shocking decline of gluten. Hats being worn backwards. The prevalence of light beer. Miniature versions of full-size vegetables, like broccolini, baby corn and mini-tomatoes. Putting grilled onion underneath the sausage, instead of on top.
For those of you thinking these matters are a little too petty for a royal commission, I’ll have you know there was a royal commission into butter in 1904, the pearl-shelling industry in 1912, and stripper harvesters in 1908 (which was probably not as exciting as it sounds).
There was already one into television in 1953 as well, but they weren’t dealing with Karl Stefanovic and David Koch then. We’re due for a touch-up, Shock and Awe style.
Come to think of it, maybe we don’t need another royal commission. Maybe we just need Rowena Orr to host morning television.