CHARLES WOOLEY

The social media know-it-alls were in overdrive this week as the PM forgot the words to a Whispering Jack track and a rugby player stuck his boot into the gay community

N ot everyone agreed last week that we need a better song than Advance

Australia Fair. Not that I ever expect general approval, otherwise what would be the fun of writing this column?

No sooner had I filed my story than it was overtaken by events that strengthened my argument for getting rid of our non-sequitur Irrational Anthem. It transpired that Malcolm Turnbull didn’t know the words to You’re The Voice, a 1986 pop song performed by John Farnham. The Prime Minister copped an unfair and unjustified walloping from the twats on Twitter and the fools on Facebook. Bashar al-Assad had just used poison gas on his own people in Syria and who knew where that might lead, but at home the morons of social media were concerned about more important matters. “OMG he doesn’t know the words to

You’re the Voice,” said @dickhead#bogan. While some people spent their youth qualifying for welfare, Malcolm Turnbull was working hard in law and business and saving a deposit on his Point Piper mansion. He may have had a life too busy to memorise the words of this pop song. I must have been distracted back then too, for the only meaningful line of the Farnham song I recall word-perfect is “Oh-wo-wo-wo, oh wo-wo-wo”.

I’m not sure what the song has to do with celebrating Australian success in the Commonwealth Games. I always thought

You’re the Voice was an anti-war song and isn’t sport really ritualised battle? It calls for a song with a little more patriotic fervour. Of course, our problem is, as I said last week, Advance Australia Fair is a poorly written, uninspiring, dreadful, plodding anthem. This leaves us with the dilemma that there is nothing we can convincingly sing with passion when circumstances require. So we sing anything. You’re the

Voice has lyrics no more pertinent to celebrating a swimming victory than does

A Pub With No Beer. Less probably, since most athletes seem to love a drink.

Later, Malcolm dissembled, saying he did know the words to the Farnham anthem. His excuse was he can’t sing and it’s better if he doesn’t. I know the problem. If I start “Oh-wo-wo-wo-ing” the people around me will get out of tune, too. It’s like marching out of step. It throws everyone else out. Better to smile and shut up unless you’re on camera. Try miming, Malcolm.

Possibly with Advance Australia Fair Peter Dodds McCormick didn’t write the worst national anthem ever. I refer you to the Austrian national anthem, Land der Berge, Land am Strome. “Land of mountains, land by the river, “Land of fields, land of cathedrals, “Land of hammers, with a promising future.”

I thought they were getting somewhere with the first two lines about the geography, but where did “land of hammers” come from? It has to be up there with “girt by sea”. Austria has produced musical greatness, the likes of Johann Strauss, Joseph Haydn and Franz Schubert, yet they come up with “land of hammers”.

So what chance is there Australia might compose an anthem that even a most unmusical prime minister might remember and mime with conviction?

Lucy has to be the hope of the side when it comes to managing Malcolm and I can just imagine this scene in the music room of the much-maligned harbourside mansion.

“Now, come on Malcolm, just one more time.” “Really, must I?” “Yes, you must demonstrate the common touch. Think of taking a shower in a cold-water flat, and sing.”

“Oh, all right. Oh-wo-wo-wo. Oh wo-wo-wo.”

“By George, I think you’ve got it, Malcolm.” “Thank God. Are we finished here Lucy?” “Not yet Malcolm. Now let’s try ‘Do wah diddy, diddy dum diddy do’.”

Another bloke I reckon was unfairly bashed up last week was the Waratahs’ star footballer Israel Folau. For some reason Folau, who probably gets kicked in the head a few times a year, decided to post on Instagram that God’s plan for gay people is: “HELL unless they repent of their sins and turn to God.” Israel comes from Tonga, where, as in many Pacific communities, the most unreasonable and fundamentalist forms of Christianity took root. He can hardly be blamed for the fact that religious loony tunes got him early and now, short of deprogramming his happy clapping, nothing can be done for him.

Qantas, a major sponsor of Rugby Australia, had different ideas. As a champion of gay marriage, our flag carrier threatened to withdraw its sponsorship of Rugby Australia if Israel didn’t stop banging on about the Old Testament and Leviticus (don’t write in, I won’t read it).

I disagree entirely with what Israel said, but surely he has a right to freely express his idiotic and laughable opinions. The problem is these days people don’t laugh at loony views. They get angry and try to censor them.

Qantas was out of line but clearly believes that if you pay the piper you get to call the tune. How do they justify beating up on an uncomplicated Polynesian-born footballer for his naive views on homosexuality when they are a partner carrier with the Islamic airline Emirates? For gays, fundamentalist Islam doesn’t just prescribe hell in the next life, but a good flogging or an execution in this one.

I know I’m on the losing side of history here, but can we all just be a little more reasonable and keep a sense of humour?