I have been to the mountain-top

I had a dream.

In my dream, all the ABC presenters, convicted that they are part of one human species and that national borders are a dangerous anachronism, got together in a big ABC conference room and, after their watercress and cucumber sandwiches, wrote a charter.

In this charter, which they signed with in their own blood (or it might have been a classy hermitage), they vowed that they would challenge any guest, interviewee or fellow sinecurist who uttered words worthy of 19th-century nationalism. They pledged that jingoism would henceforth be treated on the ABC as an excrescence, a political incorrectness as heinous as racism, sexism or shouting "tossers" through the ventilators of the ABC headquarters.

Thus, in my dream, the presenters challenged and corrected, and collectively embarrassed and humiliated, each and every person who said things like "We did very well to thrash the Nova Scotians in that 43-Man Squamish game", "Australia needs to innovate to compete with China's output of plastic Christmas tree baubles", or "Thankfully, only one Australian was injured in the inundation of Atlantis".

Then I woke up.