I’m no wowser, but…

Never trust a bloke who says he’s trustworthy. The second biggest liar I ever met said to me on my first day at the company where he was a senior executive, “I’m honest”.

I was grateful for this admission, as he immediately marked himself as warranting close scrutiny. And so it was later confirmed - he was unethical, corrupt and a liar and I was delighted to play a not insignificant part in his dismissal, defeat in the courts, deportation and, for the sake if his long suffering wife, divorce.

We’ve all previously heard and, most likely, adopted the same self-exculpatory formulation:

I’m no homophobe, I even live in Sydney, but…

I’m not racist, some of my favourite food is foreign, but…

Well, I don't stand before you as some sort of saint. Never have, never will do. But…

I mean, I'm no wowser on this sort of stuff. I mean, everyone likes to go out and have a good time, good on them. But…

Experience dictates that the safest way to interpret such language is to treat the word “but” as reversing the polarity of all that has gone before. That is, the reader should conclude the opposite of what has been claimed and, in turn, read the word “but” as “and”.

Applying this to the last two sentences we are rewarded with:

Well, I’m a saint and I’m going to make you behave a little more like me…

I mean, look at me, I’m a wowser and I’m going to dictate how young people spend their recreation time…


Who would have thought we could enjoy the style of government enjoyed by the British without leaving the sun.