Pauline Hanson claims to represent the average Australian but The Stalking of Julia Gillard's Kerry-Anne Walsh has discovered nothing could be further from the truth. 'Very few public figures can claim the level of fame, or infamy, that Pauline does. So much so, her surname isn't needed. Everyone knows her, or knows of her, and nearly everyone has a passionate viewpoint about her; she doesn't engender indifference.' So who is Pauline Hanson, the woman and politician? Does she really stand for the battler, or has it only ever been about her personal pursuit for power and infamy? Has she duped her loyal supporters, who have kept her in the public eye and propelled her back into parliament because she 'speaks for them'? Pulling no punches, and with a finely developed sense of the absurd, Kerry-Anne Walsh's conclusion is an emphatic yes. Through all the ups, the downs, the downs and the ups, Kerry-Anne probes and prods the evidence to uncover the many faces of Pauline Hanson: her time as an accidental local councillor, her emergence as a surprising national figure in 1996 and her resurrection in 2016, her careful profile-building through the media during the intervening years, the friends she's used and discarded, the men who control her, the money trail of her party and her personal finances. And then there's the rise and rise of the disaffected voters who now control political destinies, and the collapse of trust in the system that has allowed chancers such as Hanson to flourish. Perceptive, surprising and revealing, get ready for Hoodwinked to take you on one wild ride.

The essays in this volume address the question: what does it mean to understand the contemporary moment in light of the 1930s? In the aftermath of the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, and facing a dramatic rise of right wing, authoritarian politics across the globe, the events of the 1930s have acquired a renewed relevance. Contributions from a diverse, interdisciplinary group of scholars address the relationship between these historical moments in various geographical contexts, from Asia-Pacific to Europe to the Americas, while probing an array of thematic questions—the meaning of populism and fascism, the contradictions of constitutional liberalism and “militant democracy,” long cycles and crisis tendencies in capitalism, the gendering and racialization of right wing movements, and the cultural and class politics of emancipatory struggles. Uncovering continuity as well as change and repetition in the midst of transition, Back to the 30s? enriches our ability to use the past to evaluate the challenges, dangers, and promises of the present.

This is the story of one of the most extraordinary episodes in recent Australian political history, of how a powerful media pack, a vicious commentariat, and some of those within her own party contrived to bring down Australia's first female prime minister When Julia Gillard took the reins of the Australian Labor Party on June 24, 2010, she did so with the goodwill of the majority of her party and a fawning Canberra press gallery. The man she had supplanted, Kevin Rudd, led an isolated band of angry Labor voices at this surprising turn of events. The collective political and media verdict was that his time, short though it had been, was up. But when Gillard announced in February 2011 that her government would introduce a carbon pricing scheme, Rudd and his small team of malcontents were already in lock-step with key Canberra and interstate journalists in a drive to push her out of the prime ministerial chair. Never has a prime minister been so assiduously stalked. Cast as a political liar and policy charlatan, Julia Gillard was also mercilessly and relentlessly lampooned for her hair, clothes, accent, her arse, and even the way she walks and talks. Rudd, on the other hand, could barely do any wrong. His antics were afforded benign, unquestioning prime-time media coverage. This is the story about one of the most extraordinary episodes in recent Australian political history. It focuses on Team Rudd and the media's treatment of its slow-death campaign of destabilization, with its disastrous effect on Gillard and the government's functioning. It is about a politician who was never given a fair go; not in the media, not by Rudd, not by some in caucus.

Bentham and the Arts considers the sceptical challenge presented by Bentham’s hedonistic utilitarianism to the existence of the aesthetic, as represented in the oft-quoted statement that, ‘Prejudice apart, the game of push-pin is of equal value with the arts and sciences of music and poetry. If the game of push-pin furnish more pleasure, it is more valuable than either.’ This statement is one part of a complex set of arguments on culture, taste, and utility that Bentham pursued over his lifetime, in which sensations of pleasure and pain were opposed to aesthetic sensibility. Leading scholars from a variety of disciplines reflect on the implications of Bentham’s radical utilitarian approach for our understanding of the history and contemporary nature of art, literature, and aesthetics more generally.

When Shirley's uncle leaves her a house in his well, she flies in from London. Port Bruce is a remote town in Far North Queensland, and everything is strange to a city girl from England.

As mainstream music consumers wait with baited breath for the next musical upheaval, a small core of tech-savvy individuals are re-shaping the aural landscape without the assurance of being part of any larger movement. Their ideologies and creative approaches differ wildly, but they share a desire to take sound beyond the realm of mere entertainment. Drawing on extensive research into the world of audio extremity, Micro-Bionic includes interviews with William Bennett (Whitehouse), Peter Rehberg (Mego) and Peter Christopherson (Throbbing Gristle/Coil).

Did the evangelist Mark write two versions of his gospel? According to a letter ascribed to Clement of Alexandria, Mark created a second, more spiritual edition of his gospel for theologically advanced Christians in Alexandria. Clement’s letter contains two excerpts from this lost gospel, including a remarkably different account of the raising of Lazarus. Forty-five years of cursory investigation have yielded five mutually exclusive paradigms, abundant confusion, and rumours of forgery. Strangely, one of the few things upon which most investigators agree is that the letter’s own explanation of the origin and purpose of this longer gospel need not be taken seriously. Mark’s Other Gospel: Rethinking Morton Smith’s Controversial Discovery calls this pervasive bias into question. After thoroughly critiquing the five main paradigms, Scott G. Brown demonstrates that the gospel excerpts not only sound like Mark, but also employ Mark’s distinctive literary techniques, deepening this gospels theology and elucidating puzzling aspects of its narrative. This mystic gospel represents Mark’s own response to the Alexandrian predilection to discover the essential truths of a philosophy beneath the literal level of revered texts.