In light of recent reports in NSW surrounding the now ex-Liberal Party leader John Brogden, those twin pet issues of sexism and racism have raised their pretty little heads again.

rogden, after a few drinks at a city bar, allegedly referred to Helena Carr, the former Premier's wife, as a 'mail order' bride. At the same function he is said to have propositioned a few women, asking if they were available, and pinched a journo on the ass. Sorry, he 'violently sexually harassed a woman, made a racial slur that would've made Hitler proud, and should have been at home with his wife and kid', if I have read the Daily Telegraph and the Sydney Morning Herald accounts of the incident correctly. In response to the media beat'up, and perhaps his loss of face, Brogden then tried to kill himself in the electorate office to which he had faithfully been elected a day after announcing he would step down.

It is difficult to place a finger on why Brogden would have tried to chop himself. I do not know him personally, nor his family situation. For those who want to know, I vote Green, so my sympathy to the man is not politically motivated. I have heard various rumours regarding Bob Carr's marriage over the years, none of which I would like to put forward as true, or an excuse for such an off the cuff comment. I do not make a habit of pinching anonymous women's buttocks, or prowling for women in bars, though I am definitely guilty of having a few drinks, chatting to a girl, and telling her that she has wonderful breasts. Personally, I do not perceive this as a sexist comment, but rather a compliment. Perhaps on the same level as a woman at a party telling me I have a wonderful smile and beautiful eyes. Fairly innocent stuff.

Or is it?

The attitudes portrayed in Sydney's newspapers regarding the Brogden incident have been nothing short of puritanical. A witch-hunt which has been apparently instigated from the right of the political spectrum as a bid for the leadership of a party which hasn't been out of opposition for the last 10 years at least. Bid or no bid, political or not, the reports have displayed attitudes ultimately anti 'bloke' and anti 'white bloke'.

A racial quip is not an unusual way to jest. Irish jokes have been around since God knows when. False Indian accents always get a laugh. Ali G, in his persona from Kazakhstan, is courageously entertaining, cultural differences serving as his punch lines in ultimately uncomfortable scenarios. As Australians, we take great pride, and put considerable effort into taking the piss out of ourselves. The movie 'The Castle' portrayed an ultimately simple and parochial family, caught up in bad renovations, too many cars, simplistic thinking and limited vocabularies. Even the Lebanese character, Farouk, takes the piss out of himself when he says something like 'I'm from Lebanon, everybody thinks I have a bomb.' Humour, and racial humour at that, is a cornerstone of the Australian way.

So does referring to Helena Carr as a mail order bride equate to a severe racial affront? The papers depicted a woman who had never in her 40 years in Australia come across such overt racism, but was it racism? What is a quip? If one of my mates married a woman of Asian descent, and I quipped to him about his mail order bride would I be guilty of the sort of racism that would obligate me to leave my job? Granted, the public eye is the public eye, and things said as a public figure may attract more gravitas then a mere English teacher who spends every day with Chinese students, however, quite often Australian humour is that brash, that blunt, and that dry, and so it seems anyone with half a mind would never take such a quip so seriously. Actions speak louder than words, and if Brogden truly thought Helena Carr were a mail order bride, wouldn't the leader of the wet Left come up with a policy against such things?

Australia is ultimately, at least in Sydney, an extremely tolerant society. One of the main reasons so many new migrants want to settle here is because it seems to be comparably void of racial, class, and personality distinctions. Now some of the people who come here want to maintain their racial problems far beyond the level of the norm. The Serbs may still curse Croats. The Turks may still curse the Greeks. The Chinese most certainly still dislike the Japanese. The Lebanese Christians fight the Lebanse Muslims. But as an Australian, one really cares very little about where you come from or what you look like. If you begin to use the term 'mate', and go for the Wallabies (South Africans and Kiwis exempted), or drink the odd beer, or put on the odd BBQ, or learn ultimately to take the piss, you will, sooner or later, be accepted into the fold. For those in doubt about the level of tolerance displayed in this country, you should try living as a foreigner in Japan or China for an extended period of time. Would you be accepted as a local? Highly doubtful. Or pose as a Russian at a Polish soccer game? Or, God forbid, wear a Wallaby guernsey among the Maoris in Wellington. Ouch.

That brings me to the next issue. Ah, sexism. That wonderful old argument that all men are bastards and don't know what they're doing.

It seems everything under the sun that a man does could be equated with sexism. Despite our gentlemanly nature we continue to stare at tits. Despite our better senses, we are still tempted to pat or pinch a bottom here and there. Despite concerns we might have for the future of the world, we are still irretrievably preoccupied with the female form. Despite women's liberation, we still supposedly think about sex every 17 seconds a day. Well, at least when we are not thinking about the plight of the Swannies, the battle for the Ashes, the spectre of a Larkham-less Test side, or simply pondering the latest rise in the price of Gold. So what about that other lovely sex, the perfect sex, the woman?

There is no doubt in the mind of a television watching man that men are objectified by women. The proliferation of girly nights in watching 'Sex and the City' and 'Desperate Housewives' may well attest to this. What these shows say about how often a woman thinks about sex I'm still trying to figure out: I can only seem to bear watching them for 17 seconds. While a man who has an affair is ultimately a bastard, or in Brogden's case unfit for office, a woman who has an affair is portrayed as a romantic housewife ('The Bridges of Madison County'), or better still, a contemporary woman seeking sexual liberation ('The Bride Stripped Bare'). Any pinch on the butt or proposition from a pissed up Polly is filed under harassment, while a pat on the bum of a young stag by an old woman on a television advertisement is deemed all in good fun.

Brogden did not wear a Swastika to the function, nor did he outright flash his pink bits. He doesn't seem to be a Rogue or a Romper Stomper. Has he done anything veritably wrong? Perhaps a mistake, as Bob Carr recently commented. A mistake the ex-Premier, after Brogden's suicide attempt that is, said everybody would move on from. However only a day before Brogden's knife came out Mr. Carr stated that he did not think he could forgive such a comment. So what should I not forgive Mr. Carr for?

The shambles of the railway system, and its overpaid guards who check my ticket 5 times while I wait for an extra hour to catch the next train to Seven Hills? The shambles of the water situation? Yet another shopping mall in Orange Grove? The gracious gift of living in the highest taxed yet most awfully run state in the country?

Sexism and Racism, those pretty little kids, are not really pretty things. Ultimately they are to be eradicated so that the human race can get on with living, and God forgive, have some fun. But the present definition in Sydney leaves a lot to be desired. Sexism fuelled the witch-hunts of the 1600's, as it has seemed to fuel Brogden's own demise. Racism has been responsible for many stupid conflicts, and should be openly defined, at least before I am hung for stupid drunk quips pertaining to nothing but my own sense of the world.

And Brogden, who admittedly made a mistake, should not have been forced into a position by a malicious and pariah'like media to do any damage to himself whatsoever.

In the words of Jesus, or quite recently our most vilified of politicians, Phillip Ruddock: Let the person who has no sin cast the first stone.