Extract

Twinkle, twinkle, little star How I wonder what you are Up above the world so high Like a diamond in the sky Twinkle, twinkle little star How I wonder what you are When the blazing sun is gone When he nothing shines upon Then you show your little light Twinkle, twinkle, all the night Twinkle, twinkle, little star How I wonder what you are 

Ever since humans came down from the trees, and learned how to use tools and light fires, we’ve put different people on pedestals, and banged on and on about all their great deeds. Whether they be Thor or King Arthur, Grace Kelly or Lady Gaga, every generation has had its own set of deities, in whose doings ordinary mortals revel. It’s an instinct that has led us to build churches and mosques, follow dictators and buy New Idea. Something in us, I guess, must make us want to be someone else – or at least watch them, while they live this life better. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but for the stars who sparkle up above, it seems like it’s spun out of gold. 

But what about if you’re a star yourself, one of the exalted ones who light up our sky? Is the view from up there as rosy as it should be? 

Well no, because you’re waiting to fall. I’m don’t know much about science (as my science teacher at school was kind enough to point out) but I do seem to remember him telling us that stars eventually burn out. Space is lonely, cold and dark, and a fiery ball of gas can only shine for so long. 

For real stars, too, celebrity eventually fades – but the dangers don’t just end there. Just as meteors and comets crash into real stars, human ones can be hit by scandals. Sudden, flashy sensations that are great to watch here on Eartb, but cause lasting damage where they happen to land. Anyone who says that there’s is no such thing as bad publicity has clearly never been a politician who was caught in bed with a prostitute, or a rugby player accused of digital rape. They’ve never talked to a sportsman caught cheating or choking, or filmed feigning sex with a dog. They’ve never talked to a politician who drank too much in public, did something deeply inappropriate, and then drank a bit more. Public life is beset with peril, as people like Shane Warne and Matthew Newton well know. From indulging in corruption or a few lines of coke, to accidentally coming of the closet or shacking up with a criminal, there are many ways to get in the news these days that can also destroy your career. 

And the other thing about stars, if Wikipedia serves, is that at times they can also collide. In space, this is called a stellar collision, and (if their combined mass exceeds something called the Tolman-Oppenheimer-Volkoff limit, the result can well be a black hole. In Australia, however, it’s known as a ‘dust-up’ and the result is that we all buy the papers. The only thing better than a bit of biffo on the sports field, is a bit of biffo anywhere else. When celebrities swaps insults on television, or get into a punch-up outside James Packer’s house, all the rest of us need is some popcorn, or maybe some champagne so we can make toasts. 

The review of this book will vary, of course, when it comes to its content and tone. Some will be mildly critical; others actively scathing, or worse. As an artist, I make it a point to ignore all outside opinions, unless they should happen to be filled with praise. 

But I hope that, when it comes to the title, they will at least agree at it doesn’t lie. Great Australian Scandals and Dust-ups looks at great Australia scandals and dust-ups. From the saucy to the sordid, from the shady to the shameful, these stories all show the flipside of being a star: the fact that folks want to fall. The stories have made people laugh and they’ve made people cringe. They’ve made them get angry, or disgusted, or sad. 

Most of all, however, they have made them buy newspapers. And I’m hoping that they’ll buy a book too.