First of all, please stop complaining about Sarah Ferguson. Sure, she's not perfect. Me neither. But when she dragged Barnaby Joyce over the coals on Monday night, she was relentless. Also deadpan despite the circumstance.

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At this point, I'd like to acknowledge the people of the Anaiwan, Kamilaroi, Gomeroi, Githabul, and Ngarabal nations on whose lands their local federal member Barnaby Joyce continues to make apologies for that utterly ghastly Pauline Hanson, a whining Boomer if ever there was one*.

This week, he was doing it on national television while barking mad at a barking dog. Poor Stella, the dog. Apparently Vikki Campion, Joyce's second wife, posted a support video for the dog, claiming the ABC said the dog didn't exist.

I'd also like to acknowledge the people who live in New England who come from everywhere else. There is absolutely no way this man is anything other than a national embarrassment. Except to Hanson who must appreciate the way he has become a lightning rod, attracting all the criticism and loathing while she trots around Europe in fancy pants and freebies or poolside with unkind billionaire Gina Rinehart.

So, for what I think might be the first time in decades, I am sorry for Joyce (a few years after I felt very sorry for Vikki Campion). I mean, he's brought this misery on himself but that doesn't mean I'm not sorry for him. In just the same way, I feel enormous sympathy for alcoholics. These folks are experiencing an addiction, an illness and empathy is what they need, not judgement.

Joyce was on the ABC's 7.30 being grilled by Ferguson, a woman who knows how to apply the tongs. I only wish I had her ability to speak over idiots. She was trying to get the man who used to be Australia's deputy prime minister to be honest about........

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