It seems Craig is not guilty of spending two hundred and seventy thousand dollars wrongly on his campaign and another seventeen thousand is in doubt.
This means Laurie Oakes and Abbott and Pyne and perhaps fifty Murdoch journalists and television stars have libelled him and might now each be required to pay him a quarter of a million dollars, or at least apologise cravenly to him on prime time television saying ‘This is the most humble day of my life.’
As usual, I was the only commentator to have thought him innocent as charged, and as usual I was right, or pretty nearly right. I thought him innocent because I had spent a day campaigning with him, thought him straight in every sense, not mad in any way, uxorious, ambitious, level-headed, mild-mannered and politically astute. That he could be such a Jeckyll-and-Hyde as to seem so normal in daylight and yet steal a quarter of a million dollars from his union membership at night while seeking and holding a swinging seat full of pensioners and young married couples seemed unlikely to me; and his adamant assertion of innocence, like Lindy Chamberlain’s, convinced me. People who say they are innocent for long years nearly always are.
I now require the apologies of Simon, Frank, Sir David Black and Spleenblatt, for the libels they put in my columns, lest I grow splenetic, and ban the fuckers for life.
They have twenty-four hours.
I also ask them to produce, name, and get a confessional statement from the hooker, the one that cost twelve hundred dollars a night, a confessional statement naming Craig and describing his genitals.
And so it went.