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A month or so ago in Melbourne, I was minding by business and biding my time over a pint or two and reading the Herald Sun. Casually reading a column, I was momentarily dumbstruck by a paragraph of concentrated stupidity. Sure enough checking the byline, it was by Andrew Bolt. Cut to today’s SMH and they have an interview with Diamanda Galas, a sometimes target of Bolt’s ignorance. I’ve seen Diamanda twice and her heartily recommend seeing her. Her performances are confronting, overwhelming and worthwhile. Her last Aussie tour centered around a suite of songs titled Guilty, Guilty, Guilty. Johnny Cash, Ralph Stanley, OV Wright and others are covered. The performance was intense, revealing and not without a little humour. And what does Ms Galas think of Bolt? “That Bolt, he’s a real f—ing idiot, man, a real halfwit,” says Galas, in a cab from the zoo to an air-conditioned patch of her home turf in Manhattan’s East Village. “If you have questions, as you would in any operatic production, be it Tosca , be it Wagner, get the f—ing notes.” Galas called Bolt a masturbator at her next Melbourne show “in Greek, and half the audience laughed, even if that motherf—er expects everyone in Australia to only speak English”. She knows the man well.