Well, the Australian Prime Minister has called an election.

That means that the chattering classes have begun, oh so, a chattering.

And my profession, which I really don't consider to be my profession.

Because it brings such shame on itself, my profession of journalism has done its dandest to dishonour itself, discredit

itself, and generally muddy the waters of voter information barely a few days into this election

campaign. In Australia, if you're wondering outside of Australia, the Prime Minister has the right

to call an election in a

particular window of time, thereby trying to pick a date that is most advantageous to him or her.

I don't know why we still do it that way. Many states, including my state, has abolished that

and replaced it with a fixed term as they have in the United States, which makes more sense.

But both political parties stand more to gain from retaining the ability to call an election

when they are in power than they stand to lose by having their adversaries call an election

when they're out of power. So the silly process continues. Nonetheless, we've been waiting with bated breath for the

Prime Minister to call it, and it has been called. You may recall that some weeks ago, I expressed

my frustration at the predictable gotcha question that many journalists ask of politicians, which goes along the lines of how much is a loaf of bread

or how much is a liter of milk. I know my American listeners would not know what a liter of milk is,

so you can replace that with a pint, which you probably also don't know, because imperial measurements make no sense.

But putting that aside, I railed against a journalist who asked that of the prime minister

some weeks ago.

And in recent days, the news cycle has been dominated by breathless column inches and bloviating

from radio and television hacks about the fact

that the opposition leader, Anthony Albanese, made a gaff, a gaff when he was asked what the

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