Hang on, Mate

I feel I've just about been 'mated' to death lately.
We had Anzac Day. The Prime Minister, other pollies and high profile football coaches extolled mateship as one of the values that define us as Australians. The Beaconsfield mine caved in, killing one and trapping two, and Prime Minister Howard described the dramatic rescue as "evidence of the power of Australian mateship." Andrew Bolt of the Herald Sun took it further on May 10, concluding his article on the rescue with a question and further comment. "Has our world ever seemed so fractured and threatening? No wonder that mateship - always prized here - is revered today. No Politician dare ignore this tradition, when we feel we need it so much more."
It was at this point I thought the 'mating' was getting a little kinky, and without my consent. I must have missed some of the foreplay, or maybe I'm a bit slow picking up on the hit. Don't get me wrong. I'm not against mateship, and I'm aware of its origin and tradition in Australia's early settlement, in the outback, at Eureka, and in World Wars1 and 2.
And I have a number of good mates, and memories of some that have passed on. The word mate is part of my daily language. I say "thanks mate" when Lib tells me my dinner is ready. "G'day mate" is invariably my intro when I email my old school friend, and it's "how are you mate" when I phone friends from my old football team. I respect my mates.
However, if it is claimed that mateship was the reason and power behind the rescue, there's an inference that, without it the men would not have been saved, which is preposterous. Do Mr. Howard and Andrew Bolt really believe that were it not for mateship the mine owners and workers would have decided it was all too hard and simply plugged up the mine, interring the alive and well Russell and Webb and leaving them to die slowly? What a gangbang that would have been for the media throng already assembled and lusting for an orgy.
The rescue was not about mateship at all. Saying it was, is like saying that our wonderful SES volunteers all over the country, who become highly trained and who are on call for much of their time, would turn around and go home again if it wasn't a mate who was the victim at an emergency. It was about humanity. But it gave the mateship barrow pushers an opportunity for yardage.
The danger with this insular thinking and denial of humanity is that we are being mated into pathetic banality. True love and humanity become a little harder to find, slowly and surely, the further the barrow goes in this wrong direction.
So please chaps, ease up. Your 'mating' zeal is indecent.