People really love a divorce. Folks like to get in there, take sides, hang on tight and not let go. A marriage is usually a quickie when it comes to journalism — a photo spread and an invite list — but the divorce press goes on and on. Jennifer Aniston will reprise her role as the tragic divorcee ad nauseum and Katie Holmes will forever be known as an escaped prisoner of war.
And it doesn’t matter if it was a marriage of convenience either. We don’t seem to care a whit about the quality of the marriage; when things fall apart we still want to get down the front and cheer on our team, seemingly oblivious to what we’re bringing in of our own games.
Take the analysis of the Greens/Labor split. Imagine you’re at the doctor’s office and it’s written up in Who magazine. The only changes needed to fit that format would be a couple of photos of Christine Milne looking forlorn, an inset of Bob Brown and some snaps of Julia looking self righteous. And all this next to a list of who did what to whom; the promises made and honoured and the ones apparently broken; the asset split; and the fear for the country of their children if they can no longer bring themselves to work together.
I’ve had umpteen conversations about the split over the last couple of weeks, and somehow they all drift into the territory of break up language. Milne is being precious. She knew what she was getting into when she signed on the dotted line. She got everything Julia promised her, so how can she leave now? Sour grapes. She’s letting a good thing go. The Greens will go back to powerless protesting when they could have had real clout behind them.
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