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IT was a cracking week for Australian stories starting on Monday night with the truly inspirational tale of Gold Walkley-winning Herald reporter Joanne McCarthy and her fearless investigation into child sex abuse in the Catholic Church which led to a Royal Commission.
A ripping yarn on journalism at its best.
Also a great study in how many Herald staff managed to sneak an appearance in the background as cameras rolled.
Speaking of rolling, the eyes certainly do every time Tony Abbott unleashes a new "concept" to get a point across, like Team Australia and "budget bushfire". Does he thinks Australians are a bit s-l-o-w?
Barnaby Joyce got on board when he likened our country's debt woes to a "financial melanoma". Please someone pass the metaphor blockout!
But George Pell outdid them all when he made the connection between the Catholic Church, which he alleges is no more responsible for priests who abuse children than a trucking company would be if they employed a driver who molested women.
As Wallsend resident Margaret Priest, a former nun revelling in the irony of her surname, pointed out on the Letters page, priests are supposedly part of the body of Christ (surely the biggest metaphor of them all), not employees of a trucking company.
It could possibly work if the priests were trucking their waste to Queensland each week to avoid a levy. Nah. There's some garbage even Campbell Newman can't handle.
ICAC rolled by with another week of revelations about who knew what, when, why and just how much.
$8300 was the magic number for artist Rex Newell's now timeless ode to a Tea Gardens boat shed. Paid by someone on eBay, for something - probably not art appreciation. Possibly appreciation of another kind, in advance.
Good to see someone supporting the arts, though unfortunately not the Art Gallery.
It was the tale of two Jodis. One wasn't for sale. The other uses a "dh" in her name.
Not a smear campaign but a Meares campaign as Jimmy Packer's ex got off lighter than a fashion model for her latest traffic bingle. And what a smash it was - high range, rolled the Range, rearranged three cars, and the incomprehensibly mild penalty seemingly pre-arranged.
Like Jeff McCloy, we're all equal before the law, but Jodhi's 12-month ban and $1100 fine suggested otherwise. The high profile bikini priestess remains appealing, but by week's end, so was the DPP.
If you were looking for equality, turn back to ICAC where both major parties proved themselves on par and message when texting.
Joe Tripodi's "eyes and ears in Newcastle", Ann Wills, topped the pops with a chilling digital dig to Buildev director David Sharpe: "I am on my way home to put the bitch in my freezer", referring to the other Jodi, McKay.
That got Ann out of the frypan and into the fire, confirming for all concerned that where there's a Wills, there's a whoa.
Meanwhile Newcastle civic activist Tony Brown was getting down at the top end of town with his Stop the Rot rally.
Amid ongoing consternation about the future of heavy rail in the CBD, he congratulated those who attended for stepping off the gravy train of self interest and getting on board the integrity express.
Time will tell if that was an all-stations vindication for his turn of phrase.
It certainly got a lot of people asking Tony to stop the rot, particularly when he opposed three new applications for liquor licences on Darby Street.
Prohibition is a dry old argument after a few rounds. Who's shout?
Turns out the Commonwealth Bank, which joined the ANZ and St George in withdrawing from Hunter Street Mall after decades of doing business.
Everyone is now waiting for news the former CBA premises will be transformed into yet another inner city wine bar. If Tony approves.
They say it's a Lucky Country, and one will be opening in Hunter Street soon.
Speaking of whines, Clive Palmer gave the nation a lesson in diplomacy when he labelled the Chinese, on national TV, bastards and mongrels who shoot people.
Fair cop or not, it wasn't a particularly nice thing to say about people who allegedly finance your election campaigns.
If Clive keeps up Q&A comments like this, come ballot time it could be Lambies to the slaughter for the Palmer United Party, unless the feisty Tasmanian Senator gets to China first.
Loon or buffoon, Clive was calling the tune on Capital Hill as he and his pups warmed to the task of defrosting a great divide with the Liberal Party after the parliamentary winter break.
Could the PUP candidates be the worse case of mistaken identity seen round Canberra since Pauline Hanson?
Some people actually believe they're politicians, including themselves as they turn the screws on budget negotiations.
But the biggest double-take came with the sad news of actor-director Richard Attenborough's passing. No more wildlife specials, social media cried.
Of course, brother David remains alive and narrating on planet Earth. Hopefully the nature documentaries will keep rolling. Perhaps one about dogs, goannas and other creatures of the Australian political scene.
