You have some nerve, mister. When I first heard you’d said Australia ‘has no freedom’, my first instinct was to call emergency services; that’s how convinced I was that your pants were on fire. What possessed you! (I’d like to think is was the ghost of Ethel Merman, in which case it wouldn’t have been something you said so much as sang whilst wearing a pair of fishnets. That’s just a personal preference, of course.) I understand you made this somewhat astonishing claim whilst debating gun control. Maybe it something you said in the heat of the moment – if your trousers were ablaze, the heat of the moment would have been pretty intense.
You have some nerve, mister. When I first heard you’d said Australia ‘has no freedom’, my first instinct was to call emergency services; that’s how convinced I was that your pants were on fire. What possessed you! (I’d like to think is was the ghost of Ethel Merman, in which case it wouldn’t have been something you said so much as sang whilst wearing a pair of fishnets. That’s just a personal preference, of course.) I understand you made this somewhat astonishing claim whilst debating gun control. Maybe it something you said in the heat of the moment – if your trousers were ablaze, the heat of the moment would have been pretty intense.
Normally when writing to a well-known TV presenter, this is the point at which I say I’m a long-term fan. Fact is, though, I’d never heard of ‘Fox and Friends’. The name of your program sounds immensely convivial; a place where bonhomie is always in plentiful supply and comrades warm themselves around an open fire with a tumbler of whiskey whilst swapping amusing anecdotes before falling to the floor in an inebriated heap. Alternatively, I thought it might have something to do with Basil Brush, the beloved children’s puppet. Sadly, your show does not centre on an amusing anthropomorphic fox, nor are their tumblers of whiskey and an open fire. More’s the pity.
The first thing I’d say about ‘Fox and Friends’ is that furniture seems to be in short supply. Presumably that’s why all three of you are sitting on the same couch, looking supremely uncomfortable and so uptight that if the energy expended in clenching your buttocks together could be harnessed, it would surely power a small village. The three of you look like you’re waiting for a job interview. Perhaps the lack of comfortable seating goes someway to explaining your extraordinary outburst.
The other point that becomes immediately obvious upon even the most cursory of glances is that ‘Fox and Friends’ not so much combat between intellectual gladiators as it is a drunken scuffle in the car park. I’m not sure I can even call it a ‘debate’. This was not so much a case of reasoned argument as it was mild hysteria. Granted, sometimes hysteria can be a good thing: ask any Def Leppard fan. Sometimes, however, hysteria can be soul-numbingly disappointing, as anyone who’s had to listen to a next-door neighbour perform ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ at three o’clock in the morning can surely attest.
I hate to be the one to tell you, but Australia does have freedom. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that we have oodles of the stuff, so much so that it sits around in buckets. Just this morning, I scraped a chunk of it off the bottom of my shoe. Trust me, you can’t turn around in this country without tripping over a pile of freedom. Had you done your research, you’d have known that ‘freedom’ is, in fact, Australia’s third largest export, just behind iron ore and Hugh Jackman.
You also claimed that people can go to prison for expressing unpopular views in Australia. Were that true, then proceedings for your extradition to our fair land would already have commenced. Actually, we’d probably be doing you a favour. Not only does Australia have plenty of freedom, it has enough chairs for everyone – you’d never have to sit awkwardly on a couch with other people again. Ever.
In making these claims, you did not cite any specific examples, research or statistics. Frankly, I envy you. It must be glorious to live in a fact-free Universe where evidence is regarded as a trivial inconvenience that can be by-passed. Things must be so much easier that way. I must say that until this current controversy, I had no idea who you were so I ‘Googled’ you. Granted, doing so is perilously close to research and, accordingly, you probably consider it an affront, but I wanted to get a better idea of where you were coming from. Wikipedia describes you as a ‘pundit’. I can only assume that the designation of ‘pundit’ relieves you of the burden of any actual effort to support your views. It must be awesome.
There’s no nice way to say this, Tucker, so I’ll resort to some Australian vernacular. Frankly, your remarks have gone down like a cold cup of sick. Some people have gone so far as to suggest that you’ve made a complete goose of yourself. If you’re not careful, we may seek to punish you by inviting you to some rubbishy pseudo-literary festival or making you responsible for half-time entertainment at the next Australian Rules Grand Final. (Trust me, it’s a poison chalice. Just ask Meat Loaf.) Luckily, you can avoid all this unpleasantness.
Don’t let the first thing that pops into your head escape over your lips. Next time you think about shooting your mouth off about gun control (sorry for the pun), stop and think instead. Granted, stopping and thinking makes for awkward television, but it makes for much better discussion. Better yet, you might want to get down here. Call it a ‘fact finding’ mission and I will personally give you a guided tour of the joint. Until then, I look forward to your imminent retraction. Kind regards, Stuart McCullough, Tyabb, Australia.