An Open Letter to Jackie-O

Grievance, back it again are you Jackie?

Making big remarks that you can’t back up, then hastily apologising or being forced into confrontation. It happened back in 2006 or 7, when you, after allegedly showing up 9 hours late to host a festival, were booed off stage by Aussie punk band Frenzal Rhomb who had been forced to cut over half their set due to your unpunctuality. Consequentially, you and your pig of a radio partner Mr Sandilands got the singer of the band on your radio show to try and pressure him into an apology with threats both violent and legal, foul mouthing both his morals and his band, who by the way are better than anything I’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing you introduce.

Well Mrs –O, who’s doing the apologising now?

Kieran Foran, a football player for the Parramatta Eels who is currently undergoing rehab, has been blatantly mocked and degraded on your show. Questioning the paternity of a child you know nothing about from a relationship nothing to do with you is one thing, but when the man coming under fire is admittedly sick? Jesus, that’s so far from acceptable it’s hard for me to even write it.

And I’ll give credit where credit is due. You have apologised, and admitted your statements were “ugly”, “insensitive”, and “really stupid.” The public can accept that as an expression of regret, but that doesn’t change the fact that you and Sandilands never seem to think before you say anything. God, who do you think you are? Journalists? News Correspondents? Politicans? In case you have still failed to realise it, you are, unfortunately, radio hosts. Play your awful songs, run your churlish segments, but for the good of society stay away from social commentary, because it sure as Hell isn’t your career strength.

Maybe I’m wrong; maybe it isn’t your fault. After all, you are for the majority of your week forced to sit next to the biggest piece of human garbage to be churned from the depths of suburban Australia since James Packer. Surely some of his idiotic, brainless little beard hairs must fall into your morning coffee and pollute you with utter negligence and idiocy. And I suppose there’s nothing you can really do about that if you want to keep making money. But realise this; you can continue to live in your white walled mansion with poorly paid foreign servants, you can order your lattes by the crate, drive your Ferraris, buy sunglasses the size of your face and support Sandilands in his addictions to McDonalds and arrogance. But at the same time you can keep your mouth closed on significant issues, because as far as I’m concerned they have no place on something as trashy as the ‘Kyle and Jackie-O Show’.


Oliver P. Clarke