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Tuesday, 31 July 2007

Contempt For The Common Man




"And now look at us. The work ethic has gone, family values have gone, courtesy has gone and common decency has gone. Crime, child abuse and yobbery have grown like Topsy. The culture is awash with obscenity...State benefits discourage people from looking after themselves and others. State schools and hospitals destroy the old mutual and charitable ideals which gave the working and middle classes control over institutions. The worst of it is the ludicrous liberal pretence that the traditional family doesn't matter...unhappy children...stagger from the state-sponsored emotional wreckage."

Nick Cohen


One of the worst things that has happened in Australia, and evident for all to see during this last family law reform charade, has been the pretense that the nuclear family does not matter, that it is an old fashioned construct which imprisons women and stifles children.

We can see the results of these trendy, so-called "progressive" theories daily in the crowded chaotic scenes in the suburban courts of this nation.

Few public intellectuals have drawn the dots. Historian John Hirst's excellent monolograph Kangaroo Court was one of the few exceptions. Certainly not our so-called opinion leaders; certainly not the academics happy to mop up funding for thousands upon thousands of women's issues; but have never had the gumption to speak out for true equality or to question the dominant paradigm, as they like to say.

Our likely future Prime Minister Kevin Rudd talks cosily of his family on the veranda in "Brissie", with the dogs, the cats, the children. But the special interests which have swarmed over Labour since the 1970s, since Whitlam's days, do not hold the family dear in anyway. The left wing of his party is firmly entrenched in the social policy areas; and like their forebears will no doubt do untold harm in the name of social justice.

You would think they would learn from history.

Just as those championing the Iraqi misadventure failed to learn from Vietnam, so too has the bureaucracy and the judiciary which have so openly defied the wishes of the general community in regards to family law reform and what the community regards as common deceny and sensible outcomes post-divorce have failed to learn from the past.

An unfortunately, our political class has let it happen.

Politicians, including our present Attorney General Phillip Ruddock and may and have repeatedly told the Parliament they favour shared or joint custody post-separation; and are tired of having their offices cluttered up with desperate, grief stricken fathers and their outraged relatives and friends.

They are sick of seeing the abuses perpetrated by the Family Court playing out amongst their own constituents and their own friends; powerless to do anything.

They are sick of making excuses not just for the disastrous orders that routlinely issue from the Family Court, but are sick of having to deal with the blatant anti-male bias of the family law units of Legal Aid and the utterly destructive bureaucratic insanities of the so-called Child Support Agency.

Even in the past fortnight we've seen yet more smug and disgusting announcements from the government that it will hunt down all those "rich" dads and make them pay - and pay - and pay. This is a despised bureaucracy at war with taxpayers; and if the Howard government had a single shred of integrity on the subject, it would have followed the Blair government's example and shut them down.

No such luck. Instead Howard has been prepared to perpetuate the lie that this agency is somehow acting in the "best interests of children"; which it patently is not. And let's not forget; this is the government that new perfectly well the Agency was not acting in the best interests of our kids and removed any legislative obligation for them to do so.

The Family "Court" is not a court in any normal sense of the word; and is regarded with complete contempt by lawyers practising in other jurisdictions. It is a Marxist feminist tribunal delivering a social outcome regardless of the individual circumstances; and the massive grief these required social outcomes; the creation of that social artiface the single mother; creates in parents, grandparents and chldren.

The Court, created by the Whitlam government without any public desire for it, has always been an impeccably, impossibly, left-wing. It's founding Chief Justice Elizabeth Evatt wrote and spoke about her concerns that lesbian mothers could be disadvantaged in the court; but never expressed a single solitary word of concern for fathers. Her successor, the wildly left-wing failed Labor candidate Alastair Nicholson, perhaps the most despised judges in Australian; was always ready to attack men and men's groups and champion the rights of women. With a budget of around $150 million a year; he created the court in his own image and was notorious for his luxurious life-style travelling to conferences around the world and his constant self-promotion as a great humanitarian. As for the fathers who were suffering and even dying back in Australia, he uttered no words of concern or support.

While their traditional working class supporters have been ravaged by the impacts of the Family Court and the Child Support Agency, there has been not one whisper of concern or discontent with the outrageous conduct of these institutions from the Labour Party itself.

While Howard's duplicitous two-faced double crossing of fathers has been shameful to behold, don't think for one minute Rudd will be any better.

An unholy alliance of elite opinion; of bureaucrats, lawyers, politicians and so-called "experts", with the complicity of the Liberal National Party coalition and full co-operation of the Labor Party, took the family law reform process hostage. Much of this was done under the guise of that great motherhood issue, domestic violence.

Instead of listening to the people, the schedulers of the public inquiry jammed it full of taxpayer funded advocates; all of whom were keen to paint men as violent partriarchal brutes and women as their hapless, defenceless victims in urgent need of protection by the state.

Indeed the Howard government was embarrassed by the support it originally got from men's groups and peddled rapidly away from them.

Costello declared to anyone who would listen that he wanted Australia to be the best country in the world for women. Not for men, not for children, not for the community as a whole, for women; and women alone. As if men were a mere appendage, here to service them.

And lets not forget the Violence Against Women: Australia Says No campaign.

This utterly dishonest campaign, costing tens of millions of dollars; hundreds of millions if you include all the associated programs, has reached into the country's loungerooms and into people's lives. No bloke in this country can even go to the urinals at the movies these days without finding themselves staring at a picture of some limpid male who, as many commentators have observed, looks like he'd rather kiss you than hit you.

This government knew perfectly well that there is no evidence from anywhere in the world that these types of campaigns decrease inter-personal violence.

They knew perfectly well that far from resolving a community issue the deliberate promotion of public hysteria over domestic violence was likely to increase the rate of false and peurile allegations or simply have the opposite to the intended effect. Governments have known ever since Nancy Reagan's Just Say No anti-drug campaign backfired and increased levels of usage in the community that they rarely work; arousing rather than dampening interest, defining margins towards which people are drawn and giving licence, in this case, for one gender to behave in any manner they like without consequence.

Equaltiy is equality. You don't get progress and you don't get social justice by advancing the interests of one gender over the other. When you do, all you get is backlash from the great unwashed who have been ignored. That, in the end, is what this country will face as a result of the perfidy of John Howard and his government.


THE STORY CONTINUES:


"Life settled back to normal. The following Monday, at 9.15. a.m., already running late, everything looked tawdry, the colours just plain wrong. The drum of the planes taxiing to their hangers came through the open windows. 'I could really do with a hand with the kids,' he said through the bedroom door. 'You can go back to bed for the rest of the day, for all I care.'

'Can't you deal with them for Christ's sake,' she moaned. 'I do everything else.'

'Oh, sure. Come on', he said, completely exasperated, 'it's not much to ask.'

'I'll get up in a minute,' she said, and he knew she wouldn't.

He pulled on the kids' pants, searched desperately for a pair of matching shoes, the clock ticking away. The news editor, balding head, white pressed shirt, had been on his back more than ever the past week. He herded Sammy and Henrietta into the car, went through the usual drama trying to find the car keys. There was another life, there had been another life, and it wasn't his any longer.

He found the keys and stamped down the hallway. 'Thanks for your help,' he shouted as he slammed the door. It was then he discovered he had a flat tyre. Unfortunately that had been his fabricated excuse for being late just the other day8. They'd never buy it, not twice in a row. A Thai Airways 747 was climbing into the sky a kilometre away. Family or no family, he wished he was on it."

THE BIGGER PICTURE:

ABC:

Lawyer Peter Russo says the information had already been raised during the bail hearing. (AAP: Dave Hunt)

Under pressure, Immigration Minister Kevin Andrews released advice on which he based his decision to revoke the visa of Dr Haneef, the man charged in relation to a terrorist act but subsequently released.

Mr Andrews says chat room conversations indicated Dr Haneef may have had some knowledge of attacks in London and Glasgow and that it was not until after he was told there were issues about his SIM card that he applied for leave from his job in Queensland to go to India.

But Dr Haneef's lawyers say that information is old news.

Speaking from India, lawyer Peter Russo has told SBS television those facts were already raised during his bail hearing.

"This information was canvassed in the bail application two and a half weeks ago," Mr Russo said.

"Mr Andrews has been going around saying that this is part of the secret information which the public weren't allowed to see, but it was out in the public arena two and a half weeks ago."

Mr Russo says the Indian doctor was asked about the chatroom conversation during a police interview and he is now calling on authorities to release that information to the public.

"Then they can make their own judgement calls, rather than release this inflamatory stuff that just, all it does is further tarnish Dr Haneef's reputation in the Australian community, because its not the full version of the event," he said.

Monday, 30 July 2007

Pathetic, Frenetic, Upside Down



Thomas Frank wrote that Roe v Wade:

"demonstrated in no uncertain manner the power of the legal profession to override everyone from the church to the state legislature....It cemented forever a stereotype of liberalism as a doctrine of a tiny clique of experts, an unholy combination of doctors and lawyers, of bureaucrats and professionals, securing their 'reforms' by judicial command rather than democratic consensus... Every aspect of the backlash nightmare seems to follow a similar path. Overweening professionals, disdainful of the unwashed and uneducated masses, force their expert (i.e. liberal) opinion on a world that is not permitted to respond."


Yesterday it was Prime Minister John Howard at the Westfield Shopping at Penrith in the far west of Sydney. Frenetic, peripatetic, a nightmare for his security escort, Howard shook hundreds of hands, posed fleetingly with babies, 'nice to see', 'nice to meet you', he would say in encounters that barely lasted seconds. He listened to praise but barely took on any criticism, moving on rapidly. The polls remain appalling for him; and many of his government's senior staff are scouting around for jobs in the private sector. Not even his own side reckons he can win this time.

Comrade Kevin did the Westfield at Penrith trip a few months ago; getting much the same reception; polite; "he's not so bad when you meet him"; or often enough, as I ask, what do you think of Howard, "I don't know". But there's a few old soldiers still in there, "he's marvellous, he's done wonders for this country, he's not appreciated".

I remain nervous over my impending speech to parliament; which I haven't written yet; although I've started; and it keeps running round and round in my head. We're heading down there exactly a week from today, staying with my old mate Jenny; and round and round it most certainly goes. You'll be right, you can do it, people say; and I crunch up inside; fearful of disaster, unable to find refuge; all those screens behind which I lived; they're gone now; there's nowhere to hide; stand bold, stand firm, have courage; act with decency, hold true, integrity is a gift, use it wisely. But above all, courage to stand firm; to say what needs to be said. Why it's fallen to me, I will never know.

THE STORY CONTINUES:

"Anna came home several days later, a week earlier than scheduled. Though he had not been physically unfaithful, mentally he had had his spree. His desires to escape the confines of married life had been fulfilled. The kids were over-whelmingly excited to see their mother, rushing into her arms. After weeks of no physical contact it was a pleasure to wrap his arms around someone, to be caught up in an embrace, the kids hugging them at the same time. Inside, something had broken. He accepted now that he was in love, a couple, that this was his path. That there weren't alternatives, other loves just waiting for him to change his mind.

"That night they made love like they hadn't done for a very long time, if ever. It felt completely right. There was a renewed passion in everything he did. He'd forgotten how wonderful it could feel. 'I love you,' he whispered, lying back, spent, kissing her again, her hair damp. He didn't want anything else any more.

"He listened to her stories of Calcutta, New Delhi, Jaipur. She unloaded bags of Indian cloth. Hung a brightly coloured Punjabi wedding tent under the ceiling of the verandah. All the nastiness, the bitterness as they turned in on each other, had gone. 'I really missed you, missed the kids,' she said, after having been so keen to get away. She, too, now seemed to accept that the cards they had been dealt - their relationship, the children, the house - weren't a mistake after all. The kids were delighted to have their mother back, running up and down the hallway screaming with excitement. The house took on a semblance of order again. They were a family once more. He couldn't make love often enough, couldn't get enough of her. All the troubles of the past vanished. He felt happier than he had ever been."

THE BIGGER STORY:

ABC/AFP


A bomb has shattered the post football calm in Baghdad, killing at least four people and wounding several more the day after the country was briefly united in joy at its Asian Cup win.

The target appeared to be a bus stop near Tayran Square, a bustling transport hub in the centre of the city surrounded by auto mechanic shops.

At least four microbuses and two cars were engulfed in flames, and officials at two hospitals confirmed they had received four bodies and admitted 30 people wounded in the blast.

The explosion came hours after Iraqi authorities lifted an overnight curfew intended to prevent attacks on residents celebrating the national football team's victory over Saudi Arabia in Sunday's Asia Cup.

Soldiers at checkpoints in the city said they had been told to be on the lookout for a fleet of car bombs which had set off the day before from a town north of Baghdad but had been delayed by the curfew.

The overnight vehicle ban was ordered after two car bombs killed at least 50 people celebrating in the streets after their team's semi-final victory against South Korea last week.

The day after that match a third large car bomb went off in the up-scale Karrada district, killing scores of people and devastating an entire city block just across the river from Baghdad's heavily fortified Green Zone.

Sunday, 29 July 2007

Marked




Oh what is that sound which so thrills the air
Down in the valley, drumming, drumming!
Only the scarlet soldiers dear;
The soldiers coming.

WH Auden, 1932.

I couldn't believe he was still there.

I go out working in the early morning, regular as clockwork most days. Up at three; do this blog; have a bath; go for a walk, get ready for work; have a coffee down at A Little On The Side; make sure the kids are up and getting sorted for the school day; get to work by 7.30am; that's the routine.

Each morning, at the back of a housing block down Wilson Street, I would pass a bloke in a car, cooking up or who had just had a taste; must have been a shift worker having a blast of heroin on the way home from work in his little secret spot where he thought no one knew and where no one could see him. There was no reason why anybody would notice somebody sitting in a car in that spot, except I did.

In some way I felt some strange connection to him, like crossing paths with an older version of myself; time trails doing tricks. A bit over a week ago, I walked past, and there he was; but this time the car engine was running and the light was on inside the car; and you couldn't see him, he had collapsed sideways in the car. I kept walking a few feet, none of my business; these people can be erratic, dangerous; and particularly hostile to outside help. Then I stopped and stared, thinking better of it. The car engine just kept running, no sign of movement from him. So I rang the emergency number 000 and told them the story.

The police had trouble finding the place and rang me back, asking where I was. I walked to nearest corner; it's winter, it's still dark at this time of the morning; and read off the street names. The copper started to grill me; what sort of drugs is it. I don't know, I don't know; I kept replying, exasperated, the guy had overdosed and was probably dead by now; but I didn't want to open the door and start trying to save him, just to get assaulted. Finally an ambulance pulled up; the lights flashing from a long way off; and I pointed them the towards the car, its engines still runnning.

The last I saw was the ambulance officer banging on the car door, going, are you alright mate? As I walked away, the police passed me. I disappeared into the web of streets. I might have saved his life; but I didn't want the bloke knowing who had called the authorities. He was unlikely to be grateful. But maybe I had saved him; maybe that was the rock bottom he needed to begin his own climb out of addiction. Maybe, in some weird way, the fact that I was the only person on earth who knew that he was there doing what he was doing and had been able to step in in this way was all meant to be.

But then I went walking the other morning. I assumed he would never go back to that spot, could be in jail or detox for all I knew. But there he was, in a different car but in almost exactly the same spot, sitting secretively in the dark. I looked in his face, shocked; and we briefly exchanged glances as I scurried away, nervous. His face was pale, grey-sick, his eyes stoned and evil-dead; he looked like some evil elf out of Lord of the Rings; and that face, it clung in my mind all day; an evil spirit I did not want to be part of me.


THE STORY CONTINUES:

"The street hit him in a wave of disoriented light. The crowds were still dissipating, groups wandering around looking for action. He had emerged from something secret, intimate, furtive, far from the glorification of gay sexuality which had been so much a part of the formal part of the night.

"In back rooms, saunas and back alleys the grumblings and grunts, encounters to be savoured and boasted about, would go on till dawn. At least for a while the loneliness would be ripped away. He didn't care.

"He'd had too many rapid encounters, met too many bastards who just wanted to unload. He felt no personal sense of belonging. The days were gone when he would emerge blinking, tripping, part of the grand of the grand adventure, the great random congress of the night. He kept on walking, away from the Mardi Gras, the triumphs of the night, other people's nights. The centre of things was somewhere else."

THE BIGGER STORY:

Chicago Tribune:


'EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE LOVED'

Bush faces a lonely road
These days even some Republicans are questioning his course

By Mark Silva | the Tribune's White House correspondent
July 29, 2007

WASHINGTON - President Bush risks becoming increasingly isolated as he approaches his final year in the White House, experts say, as close advisers drift away, many in his own party turn against him, his policies meet strong resistance and even formerly ardent party supporters question his path.

The public has largely rejected the Iraq war, the central project of Bush's presidency, and Democrats are attacking the president with a new aggressiveness as his popularity reaches historic lows. More dramatically, Bush faces growing defections from his party, including the conservative wing that has previously supported him enthusiastically. And several of his closest aides -- such as Chief of Staff Andrew Card and counselor to the president Dan Bartlett -- are no longer in the administration, leaving Bush with fewer friends whose judgment he is willing to rely on.

Meanwhile, the Republican presidential candidates are carefully distancing themselves from Bush in certain key areas. Even U.S. Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.), Bush's strongest defender on Iraq, is offsetting that support with scorching commentary on the administration's conduct of the war.

Friday, 27 July 2007

Let Us Go Then




"Let us go then
You and your music and the wind and I
Leaving from very strange stations fo the cross
From the uncharted uplands of the spirit."

Michael Dransfield
Australian poet, overdosed in the 1970s.


These pictures are from the polished mirror wall outside the conference room at the Marriott Hotel. Families Minister Mal Brough, notoriously rough; well blunt as, was negotiating with the state ministers over disability funding. There's no votes in disability and little media interest, but we and the ABC were there. I thought it was just another boring presser; and although there was a crowd in the foyer I couldn't see any of the normal gang; and assumed that we were the only ones stupid enough to show. I spoke to Brough's media adviser; Kevin; who unlike a lot of them is old enough to be able to count. By the time I had finished talking to him I was convinced this was the most boring story on the planet and we were wasting our time being there.

Then Mal Brough arrived. As he entered the foyer he was immediately surrounded by disability activists and the Labor Party ministers; confronting him on funding issues. He promptly called the Queensland Minister Warren Pitt a liar and the NSW Minister of leading her own people up the garden path. The advocates were hyped and angry. Then they disappeared behind the mirrored wall for their discussions; and I rang the office to say it was a more interesting story than it looked and maybe they should get a photographer down there.

The worst thing was, peace broke out. Putting your head around disability funding is a feat, let me tell you, but after having it explained to me by some great experts; in the end I could have drummed up a story about state and federal incompetence while millions of dollars are burnt up in disputes. The introduction of the GST by the Howard government, 10% on everything, everything; strangling small businesses in paper work, grotesquely adding to the tax burden on the Australian people, turning us all into constant tax payers and constant tax collectors and crippling all but the largest companies and those clever enough to get around it; was meant to fix all these problems; providing a river of cash to the states. But all those billions just keep on disappearing; while a conservative government pours billions of dollars into the incompetent labour state administrations. Go figure.


THE STORY CONTINUES

"He went in. The booth enclosed him, in front of a blank screen. He had never been in this situation before, didn't know what to do. He put in a coin. The screen lit up. There was a young man on the stage, in underpants, dancing, a pile of porn books in the corner to encourage his erection. He kept looking down as he danced, a small cassetete radio on the floor. He was Mediterranean in appearance, wearing sweaty grey underpants. He was wanking as he danced, only half aroused, invsible eyes watching, assessing. It must be damn hard keeping it up, he thought, more than enough to make me shrivel, discerning, demanding eyes scraping the skin off your cock and your ass. With a clank the screen went blank. He put in more tokens. The performance was continuing. He didn't know how to behave. There was enough of a voyeur in him to find it vaguely erotic, or at least interesting, but he also felt uncomfortable and out of place. He'd rather be in bed with someone he loved, despite the hard times, not lined up with the desperates, their orgasms devoid of affection.

"The screen went blank again and he put in another token. The performance was getting better, slowly. The boy was at least a little more aroused. He seemed to be paying particular attention to him, pulling down the screen that connected the booth to the stage so that he didn't have to keep putting in tokens. Giving him a freebie. He knew even less what to do. He watched the guy dancing, flirting, pulling down his jocks and letting them back up, revealing what there was to reveal. There were cubicles all around him, the uglies watching.

"He felt a sudden wave of claustrophobia, didn't want to be there any more. He had lost track of where Louis was. Bewildered by his own lack of interest, he took one last look and exited the cubicle. There were still men standing around. Dark. Red paint. Dust. Underground eroticism. He didn't feel any sense of gay pride. He fled down the stairs, into the street, giving away the remainder of his tokens to someone as he left. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. There wasn't any question of saying goodbye to Louis. He didn't know where he had vanished to."


THE BIGGER STORY


Washington post dot com political blog:

The Line: Debate Provides '08 Wake-up Call
For anyone not paying attention, the 2008 pre-season is over.

If anyone had any doubt about whether the presidential campaign was ramped up, the still-spurting volcano of rhetoric between Democrats Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton over who is better equipped to handle foreign policy should clear that right up.

It's the first extended back and forth between the two frontrunners, and neither seems ready to back down just yet. Why? Because they each think they can "win" on the issue.

For Obama, the fight represents a chance to paint Clinton as a creature of the past -- a past defined by her vote in favor of the 2002 use of force resolution against Iraq. Obama's argument is also centered on the idea that experience and judgement are two entirely different things. Clinton's political experience, Obama argues subtly, didn't help her make the right vote in 2002, while his political inexperience didn't hamper his ability to argue against it.

For Clinton, the controversy shows why Obama is a risky vote for Democratic primary voters. Yes, he has charisma, but is he ready for the job he is auditioning for? Clinton's campaign believes her experience dealing at the highest levels of government as both first lady and as senator is the strongest counter to the energy surrounding Obama. Your heart might be with Obama, the argument goes, but your head is with Clinton.

It's a fascinating dynamic and one that will play out in any number of iterations between now and January. We'll be watching.

To the Line!

Thursday, 26 July 2007

Solitary Courage



"What matters to most people in work is the status accumulated by the approval of colleagues. If the pack is howling off in one direction, very few journalists want to break ranks and head off on their own... There is a touch of the herd in the unselfconscious manner in which artists, journalists, publishers, writers and academics set off in one direction, mooing as one, and then agree as if by telepathy to wheel round and moo off in another."

Nick Cohen.


It's so dammed true. They chant multiplicity, diversity, open-mindedness, tolerance, diversity, thinking outside the square, but dare disagree with them and you soon find out how tolerant they are. That was certainly the case with the dads stuff; the journalist pack have been happy to regurgitate the feminist line as somehow being a progressive view of the situation; without any objectivity and without critical stance or even a nod at the possibility there might be two sides to the story; swallowing the line whole. I had been a journalist for 20 years in Sydney when I wandered into the Family Court; often working within 10 or 15 minutes of it and assuming that it worked like any other court. I was a modern progressive pro-feminist SNAG, Jesus I'd even been gay in the old days, they wouldn't treat me as some patriarchal brute, surely. But of course, they treat all men alike, with complete contempt; and if you display too many signs of intelligence you can be accused of using the system against your former partner, or of having a "controlling intelligence"; and lose your kids any way.

I'm thinking about this a lot because of the speech I have to give in Parliament House next month. It's only 15 minutes, but I'm nervous.

It all began when we separated. I was gobsmacked at how dishonest and how patently corrupt the court was; and for awhile managed to get a few stories in the paper. These stories then take on a life of their own, circulating on the internet. This one, written seven years ago and spread across two pages, has circulated again just recently in discussions on the court: "The boy was eight weeks old when his father called welfare authorities and pleaded with them to take his son into foster care. He alleged that the mother was being violent towards the child, throwing him against walls and trying to smother him. The authorities ignored him, as they did for years to come, but the father persevered. Twenty years, 550 days in court and tens of millions of dollars of public funds later, the matter, which has run across civil, criminal and family law jurisdictions, reached its final chapter this week."



THE STORY CONTINUES:

"Although in one brief incarnation he had worked as a sex shop attendant, his typewriter perched on the glass cabinet of dildos, such places always made him feel uncomfortable. He was immediately embarrassed to be there, hated to think that he would appear as one of the desperates, genuinely seeking orgasm amongst the grime, rather than possessing the comfort of an observer. So much for the abandonment of Mardi Gras. Already there were quite a number of men milling about, the ticketless. Most of them were middle-aged. None of them was attractive. Louis knew the attendants, chatted on. He was obviously a regular.

"After five minutes they were upstairs. It was pretty tacky. Men stood around in the corridors outside booths. They were all waiting for something, the heat to start working, lurid passion in dark corners, voyeurs and participants, the magic of hormones and muffled gasps. Again Louis knew people, and introduced him to a few. Then Louis dolled out some of his discount tokens, explaining that the live show would be starting soon and he needed to the tokens to be able to watch it. A series of booths circled what he soon discovered was a stage.

"It's started, Louis said,l pointing him into a booth and then disappearing."


THE BIGGER STORY;



Why is Australia involved in this???

AFP/AAP


Sixty Taliban killed in fierce Afghan clashes


Afghan and US-led forces have killed more than 50 Taliban in a 12-hour battle in the country's opium-growing heartland.

Coalition warplanes were called in to bomb rebel hideouts in the most intense clash, which broke out in the insurgency-hit southern province of Helmand, a US-led coalition said in a statement.

"More than 50 insurgents were confirmed killed with an unknown number wounded," the statement said.

"Sixteen Taliban compounds, three enemy motorcycles and five enemy trucks were destroyed as well."

One coalition soldier suffered a broken hand during the battle, while there were no civilian casualties.

The Taliban were not immediately available to comment on the official casualty figures.

Helmand has seen some of the most bitter fighting, particularly in rebel-infested Musa Qala district, near the scene of the latest battle, where the coalition says 160 militants have been killed since Sunday.

The province produces most of Afghanistan's opium, the source of the heroin that reportedly funds much of the Taliban's operations.

Wednesday, 25 July 2007

The Nation Turns Its Back





"Journalism is a young man's sandpit
And an old man's quicksand."
Anon

They bled tens of billions of dollars off the general population and made it impossible for the toiling masses to get ahead; and wonder why they are on the nose.

It's not the thousands upon thousands of stories that I have done; fascinated or in grim toil; but other scenes that recur in my haunted head.

As a teenager, 15,16, the same age as my own kids now, I would get bottles of grog and drink them till I was unconscious, passing out in the streets around Sydney. I looked young for my age; and my state would sometimes evoke sympathy from complete strangers. I remember once, have always remembered for some weird reason, up around the Coca Cola sign at the top of William Street, swaying, no doubt glassy eyed, on the edge of consciousness, and someone saying, cutting through the fog, "He should be at home with his mother".

I remember, too, one day, passing out in the gutter at Circular Quay, the major transport hub for Sydney Ferries. People in their hundreds, or so it seemed, stepped over me in the five o'clock rush home from their offices to their comfortable apartments and grand houses on the north shore. Eventually some old queen stooped down and helped me up, asking if I was OK. He took me home to his apartment on the north shore, gave me a shower and a feed and $20 for services rendered. Life was like that, back then.

THE STORY CONTINUES

"'Anything special goes on there?' he asked.
"'There are booths and a live sex show. Every now and then a bit of straight trade gets there, really spunky guys. Football players. They're gorgeous. So naive. So randy. They just love having their dicks sucked, their girlfriends won't do it for them. I've had some good times there, it's the luck of the draw.'
"So they walked on down to Love Art."


THE BIGGER STORY:


Fundamental shifts in the nation's psyche and expectations are taking place:

The Age Howard to win battle, lose war
The Australian, Australia - 5 hours ago
JOHN Howard would win a High Court battle against Victoria for control of the Murray-Darling, but end up with a dog's breakfast of partial powers, ...
Howard Plans Federal Takeover of Australia's Biggest River Bloomberg
Howard defends water plan NEWS.com.au
PM not expecting Vic backlash over water The Age
The Age - Melbourne Herald Sun
all 258 news articles »

The Age Rates time bomb ticking for Howard
The Age, Australia - 5 hours ago
Prime Minister John Howard and Treasurer Peter Costello united yesterday in a low-key response to the figures, using almost identical words. ...
Howard plays down rates hike fears ABC Online
Prices up - your home loan is next Sydney Morning Herald
It's now, not on Cup Day Melbourne Herald Sun
The Age - The Australian
all 157 news articles »

Earthtimes.org Howard to spend birthday in E Timor
NEWS.com.au, Australia - 1 hour ago
PRIME Minister John Howard will spend his 68th birthday today visiting Australian troops and police helping maintain security in the fledgling nation of ...
Australian PM, 68, says age not election issue Globe and Mail
Count my policies, not years The Australian
Australia's Howard to visit East Timor and Indonesia Monsters and Critics.com
The Age - International Herald Tribune
all 97 news articles »

The Age Costello defends Howard treasurer attack
Melbourne Herald Sun, Australia - 8 hours ago
TREASURER Peter Costello says his comments on Prime Minister John Howard's record as treasurer were intended to contrast the performance of the Howard and ...
Fitness for office is not a question of age The Age
Pragmatism is not just for governments The Age
Howard stumble mimics party's slip in polls Times Online
Melbourne Herald Sun - NEWS.com.au
all 154 news articles »
Howard warns Work Choices could disappear
Sydney Morning Herald, Australia - 4 hours ago
JOHN HOWARD has issued an unusual warning saying that Work Choices laws would disappear forever if he was voted out at this year's federal election. ...
Howard admits to addressing Australian Parliament when drunk NewKerala.com
House prices to leap 3% under Labor, PM warns The Age
Labor would bury IR reform: Howard The West Australian
Sydney Morning Herald - ABC Online
all 34 news articles »

The Age Howard, Rudd differences in spotlight
Sydney Morning Herald, Australia - 22 hours ago
... its economic management and national security credentials but voters like federal Opposition Leader Kevin Rudd more than Prime Minister John Howard. ...
Kevin Rudd, arrogance personified The Australian
PM to spend 68th birthday on the road The Age
Kevin gets biggest break yet The Australian
The Australian - NEWS.com.au
all 136 news articles »

The Age Slip-up turns Howard into Rudd
Melbourne Herald Sun, Australia - 16 hours ago
THE wrong name came out during another of John Howard's radio interviews today but this time it was the interviewer who got the Prime Minister's name wrong ...
Howard dismisses heckling at building site The West Australian
Readers' Comments Howard heckled at Perth site Sunday Times.au
Howard trips up in Perth Sydney Morning Herald
The Age - NEWS.com.au
all 52 news articles »
John Howard gets back on his feet
Melbourne Herald Sun, Australia - 4 hours ago
John Howard fell, bounced back immediately and looked extremely fit and agile because of it. The media excitement about the symbolism was not shared by the ...

Demise of unions made homes cheaper: Howard
ABC Online, Australia - 15 hours ago
Prime Minister John Howard says Labor's housing summit has been exposed as a farce by a new report showing that a demise in unionism on construction sites ...
PM: Labor's housing summit a farce ABC Online
PM: Labor's housing summit a farce ABC Online
all 5 news articles »

NDTV.com No pressurea on minister over Haneef visa: Howard
Herald Publications, India - 14 hours ago
MELBOURNE, JULY 24 (PTI) — Australian Prime Minister John Howard denied his immigration minister was pressured into cancelling Mohammed Haneef’s visa or ...
Howard denies leaking Haneef information Melbourne Herald Sun
PM Howard denies pressuring Andrews to cancel Haneef's visa DailyIndia.com
Haneef Visa: PM denies pressuring min Economic Times
The Australian - The Canberra Times
all 58 news articles »

Tuesday, 24 July 2007

Decay & Deceit

 
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"Your beliefs are a part of your personality; at the heart of your identity. To admit they are wrong is to renounce a part of your life and sense of yourself, along with the hopes and vendettas you have accumulated over the years... Rather than accept the psychological consequences of confessing error, people lose their bearings. They talk only to friends. They imagine conspiracies as they seek the worst possible motives of their critics. They retreat into coteries and speak in codes... To cut a long story short, they go a little mad."

Nick Cohen.

It looks like just another inland creek; but it hadn't rained here in a decade. That night the frogs that had lain encased in mud cocoons under the surface for all those years would be out, filling the air with the racket of their courtship as they sought desperately for a mate. A decade's a long stretch between drinks.

Nervously, obsessively, preparing to speak: To understand why an air of decay and deceit has attached itself to a dying Howard government, you only have to look at their treatment of separated fathers.

While he didn't say it in exactly those words; he's a lawyer after all; in effect he said to the grieving, heartbroken dads of Australia: vote for me and I'll get your children back. I'm not blind. I know what's going on in this lunatic place they call the "family" court. I know and do not support the contempt with which you're treated. Vote for me.

And to the, if possible, even more heartbroken grandparents; regularly denied contact with their beloved grand kids after separation, he transmitted the message, intentionally or not: I feel your pain; I understand how deeply amoral these institutions, these appalling creations of the Labor Party, have become. Vote for me and I'll fix it.

But that's not what he did.

Instead he let the bureaucrats take control. He let the tax payer funded ideologues who infest the bureaucracy to spread their poison; to paint men - doting dads - as violent patriarchs; to paint women as hapless victims of those men's brutality.

He allowed them to draft out a multi-million dollar role for themselves in protecting those children from all those brutes. And in case anyone had missed the message, he allowed the bureaucrats to perpetrate an utterly dishonest print, radio and television domestic violence campaign portraying all men as violent and all women as victims. In this country, you can't to the toilets in the movies without standing at urinal and being bombarded with feminist propaganda from posters right in front of your face while you point Percy at the porcel. It's an f'n pain; completely offensive. I bet the girls don't have any propaganda in their toilets telling them to treat blokes better, to stop all the emotional abuse; to stop hitting them over the head with saucepans, to stop the contract killings and to stop making up a whole pack of lies about them to advantage themselves in court cases,

We said at the beginning of this twenty million plus domestic violence advertising campaign that there was no evidence from anywhere in the world that these types of campaigns reduce the level of inter-personal violence in the community and instead do more harm than good by promoting negative stereotypes. We predicted that far from addressing inter-personal violence, by deliberately promoting public hysteria over domestic violence it would instead allow the DV industry to justify the expenditure of yet more hundreds of millions of dollars of taxpayers money. And so it has come to pass.

While the head of the House of Representatives Inquiry into child custody, National Party member for the Riverina Kay Hull, said repeatedly and often that the family law was in desperate need of reform, she has been silent on the debacle, apparently conscience free, ever since. After all, it was Kay Hull who oversaw the appalling Every Picture Tells A Story report; written by a feminist bureaucrat within the department who was promptly, as we understand it, moved sideways so she could not be held to account; and then signed off on by politicians too lazy to even bother reading it; judging by their depth of knowledge when we interviewed them.

In a classic disconnect; Every Picture Tells A Story was presented to parliament with great fanfare and salutation; with the Prime Minister handing out praise to everyone involved. It was all a crock; and now the chickens are coming home to roost.


THE STORY CONTINUES:


"He had not expected to see Louis ever again, was surprised to run across him back in Australia several years after their first stray encounter. He never bothered to make anything more out of their acquaintance but had continued to run into him every few years, one of the stray filaments of encounter which made up his life.

"He compared notes on the evening, at the same time watching the crowds still dispersing. The pubs were deliberately shut, waiting for the potentially trouble-causing straights from the suburbs to return to their breeding grounds, the heterosexual heartlands. The street was carpeted with beer cans and trash. The lights of the sweeping machines turned the street yellow, adding malice, turning the crowd into looming giants. Men in white overalls were already in action. It would take hours to find a taxi. There was no point in even trying to go home now. If he did he would be walking.

"I've got some free vouchers for the Love Art shop," Louis ventured after a while. "You want to come and check it out?"


THE BIGGER STORY:
The tide has well and truly turned when conservative columnist Andrew Bolt writes:


IT IS unfair, I know. But it's time John Howard quit. He must quit as Prime Minister not because he's a failure, but - perversely - because he's a success.

He must quit because he's done so well he should be red hot to win the next election.

Instead, every poll this year agrees he's stumbling to the mother of all hidings.

And yesterday's pictures of him falling over are devastating in their symbolism.

Howard can argue all he likes that he's brought us record employment, record growth, record wealth, record surpluses.

He can keep boasting about the lowest jobless rate in 33 years and remind voters of their latest tax cuts....

Most voters simply refuse to be impressed. They refuse even to listen any more.

Take Howard's bold decision to send in troops to help rescue Aboriginal children from appalling poverty, neglect and abuse.

Yawn.

Or consider the tax cuts, which started to pour into pay packets this month.

Ho hum.

Time to turn the dial because voters seem bored to sobs by Howard after 11 years, and especially by that last half a decade of yammer about terror, Iraq and lies. ...

Monday, 23 July 2007

Hypocrisy and Incompetence




"If there is no humane and democratic answer to the question of what a world without capitalism would look like, then should we not abandon the pursuit of unicorns, and concentrate on capturing and taming the beast whose den we already inhabit?"

George Monbiot, a leader of the British Green movement.


This is the tree at the back of the house where we live here. The building in the corner is the Aboriginal Housing Coop; and this leads down to the notorious "Block"; an aboriginal housing area set up in the 1970s. Locals came to stare in awe at all the brand new houses the government had built for the aboriginals; some with a great deal of envy and bewilderment that their own hard work was not rewarded by such grand palaces; but a group who did not work and drank too much could have everything gifted to them.

But this was the vision of the man we regarded at the time as our saviour; on the right hand of a God; although of course, being left wing; he had to be a secular God; if that makes sense; anyway, Gough Whitlam "became Australia’s 21st Prime Minister on 5 December 1972. His Labor government, the first after more than two decades, set out to change Australia through a wide-ranging reform program. Whitlam’s term abruptly ended when his government was dismissed by the Governor-General on 11 November 1975."

Gough was warned at the time that the block would ghettoise, but instead ploughed on, creating a focus for urban and national black pride in Australia. It was destroyed in the 1990s when supposedly progressive government policy allowed the place to descend into one of the city's leading heroin markets; the regulations advising that police stay at least 50 metres away from needle exchange buses encouraging the trade. In its hey day, the market was little more than astonishing; and led to many many deaths in the area.

Now; the Block has been decimated. There are only 16 families left living there; and most of the place looks like a war zone; the houses destroyed. The gum tree is a part of Australiana, stretching over one corner; catching the infinite in its branches like a giant dream catcher. At night, and every morning when I go walking, you can see the huddle around a fire where they have been all night, drinking, carousing, fighting, always fighting. The Rousseau version of aboriginal reality is far from true; they were a fiercely territorial and tribal people who had fought with each other for limited resources over thousands of years. Now, with their "sit down" money aka welfare and the chronic alcoholism plaguing their most public citizens, they still fight, barely knowing why.

"You, you're a f'n cunt," yelled one to the other at my back fence the other night. "You, you wouldn't even know where your kids are. Least I know where my fucking kids are. They're up in fucking Lismore." It's lovely stuff.


THE STORY CONTINUES:

"Too soon it was over. Those with tickets went on to the post-parade party. This was the main event. Everything else was a prelude. Sleeping was for the living vegetables, the truly duller than the dull. This was the centre. The entrants in the parade disappeared into the great maw of the Showground, into their personal nights of promise, pinnacles of high times, abandonment, hours of non-stop dancing, the promise of sex everywhere. Truly the best of times. Not even his position as the man covering the event for the city's most prestigious newspaper had done anything to help procure a ticket.

"He went to the post-parade press conference, drank a free beer, took notes as the chairwoman proclaimed it, as he or she did each year, the most successful and most problem free Mardi Gras ever.

"Shortly after he was standing in the middle of Taylor Square, watching the crowds scatter, the clean-up crews go into action, when he found himself standing next to Louis. They'd met more than 20 years before when they were both impoverished adolescents in London with nowhere to live. They'd spent one long night riding the tubes, catching trains just to stay warm."



THE BIGGER STORY:

THE biggest book launch in history has exceeded book sellers' expectations, with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows thrashing sales records.

The seventh and final book in JK Rowling's ultra-successful series was released on Saturday morning, with sellers reporting first day sales easily outstripping those of its predecessors.

Many Potter fans lined up early for their copies and then hid away for the weekend, keen to reach the climax of the series before returning to work or school, in case their enjoyment was spoiled.

Sunday, 22 July 2007

Torment of the Spirit

 
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"Writers write badly when they have something to hide. Clarity makes their shaky assumptions plain to the readers - and to themselves. By keeping it foggy they save themselves the trouble of spelling out their beliefs and recommendations for the future. For academics, of all people, this is a disreputable way of going about business, but one that has many uses. Obscurantism spared the theorists who emerged from the grave of Marxism the pain of testing dearly held beliefs and prejudices."

Nick Cohen.


Look at me sideways, I dare you, he said, mortified by the lack of stability; the ceaseless torment of a restless soul; anguished about he knew not what; nothing could be more difficult than these days. Courage, decency, integrity; was that the yarn? He could only try.


THE STORY CONTINUES:

"The night of the Mardi Gras came. He was covering it for the paper. He didn't bother to meet up with the photographer. The night had become so vast it no longer mattered whether words matched pictures. Pad in hand, a couple of drinks under his belt, he wandered down to the beginning of the parade. He picked out old people and those with children, asked them why they were there. They all glowed with enthusiasm. This one event had done more to alter the attitude towards gays and lesbians than anything else.

"Then he tried interviewing people in the parade itself as they stood waiting for it to begin. There were the North Coast fairies, out to have the time of their life, fluorescent tight, crotch accentuating board shorts, brown bodies finely muscled, the drugs already beginning to work. There were the political groups. The AID support groups. The suburban groups. The Bi-sexual Network. The leather queens in cages. Then they were off.

"Armed with his press pass, he walked with them, through the long cheering corridor of people. He remained detached, but it was impossible not to be carried away by the wild exuberance of it all, the eccentric and the wonderful, the Diesal Dykes, the Fruits on Loops, the girls in the pink Chbevrolet. Work it, girls, work it, a loudspeaker admonished. A fat hairy drag queen beamed with exhaustion and excitement at the crowd. A drunken caricature of a builder, the weight of a hammer pulling his working shorts down below his crack, fell over in front of him, staggered to his feet and lurched on. The crowd couldn't contain themselves. Parts of the night, of the visual spectacle, took him to another plane, his own quiet life left far behind."

THE BIGGER STORY:

IRAQ DIGEST
Tribune news services
July 22, 2007
Article Tools
E-mail Print Single page view Reprints text size: SISTANI AIDE SLAIN: A top aide to Grand Ayatollah Ali Sistani was stabbed to death in what Sistani's supporters said was a warning to Iraq's senior Shiite cleric, authorities said Saturday. Abdullah Falaq was killed Friday in his office, adjacent to Sistani's home in the Shiite holy city of Najaf, according to an aide to the cleric. Sistani is considered one of the most influential Shiite leaders in Iraq, and Falaq was his chief adviser on matters of Islamic law.

CALL TO WORK: Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki urged the parliament to cancel or shorten its summer vacation to pass laws the U.S. considers crucial. Parliament is scheduled to adjourn for August. A statement by the Shiite prime minister's office said he "hoped that the parliament would cancel its summer vacation or limit it" to two weeks.

DEADLY AIR STRIKE: The U.S. military said six militants were killed in an air strike on a Shiite stronghold in northeastern Baghdad, but Iraqi officials and relatives said 18 civilians died in the attack. U.S. officials said the helicopter strike was ordered after American forces came under small-arms fire from a structure late Friday.


U.S. DEATH: The U.S. military announced that a roadside bomb killed an American soldier in Diyala province Friday, raising the U.S. death toll in the war to at least 3,631 service members, according to an Associated Press count.

Saturday, 21 July 2007

Tyrants Near Death

 



"A few children die in the kindergarten, a few old men die in the Happiness Court. If there's no death people can't exist. From Confucius to now it would be disastrous if people didn't die."

Mao Tse-tung.


This is the memorial service in Hyde Park; held, often enough, in the early hours of the morning; cold, wet, surprisingly moving; the general news hook being that around the country these events have become increasingly popular; so that instead of Anzac Day dying out with the old diggers, in fact they have become the most sincere expression of national pride and coherence. In a country which shattered a long time ago; and is being led down new and even more barren paths by our current crop of politicians.

I was at the Westin hotel; women often say, when they enter; "what a beautiful hotel!" and indeed they've done a superb job of refitting the old central post office building. Peter Costello was doing his post-budget tour; waving his placards and giving his spiel to a sea of expensive suits arrayed in the ballroom. This really was the big end of town. This was more a Costello lap of honour than a selling trip, it wasn't the big end of town that needed convincing they were doing a marvellous job of managing the country's economy; the graphs showing the impacts of taxation rates on income scales; the average Australian income of $47,000 being examined through a telescope, a sum so small they couldn't imagine it.

The president of the Liberal Party stood up to thank Costello after his piece.

"We have all, during the last 11 years of a Howard government, seen our houses balloon in value, and indeed in number. We have all seen our share portfolios increase massively. We have all prospered; and in order to protect and to grow that prosperity we need a stable economy and a stable government. That is why you must vote Liberal."

There was solid applause and the event was over, a snip at $250 a head. The haves and have mores headed back to the surface, calling to each other cheerfully as they rose up the escalator.


THE STORY CONTINUES:

"I dreamt of you, out there on the front, David, an old drinking buddy, said, referring to the Gulf War which had fascinated them both. I dreamt we made love, right there on the battlefield. There were guns going off all around, tracers in the sky. There were soldiers, hunky, in all the trenches, and you, with your reporter's pad, and I was fantastically pleased to see you. He laughed and tried to shrug him off; David was always so embarrassing the way he gushed at him. For no particular reason he had always avoided sleeping with him.

"David was always propped on a bar stool somewhere, an artist of sorts, sympathetic but useless. It was hard to turn away from someone who was telling you what a fabulous person you were, even if he was drunk and tiresome.

"You had ash on your face, and grease, and the sky was turning white from a Scud missile, and you were just fabulous, you loved me so much.

"He tried to look away, embarrassed, and David grabbed his face in his hands and said, 'Don't be like that with me, I'm jiust telling you how I feel.'

"A few more drinks and he escaped. It was nice to go home, to sleep alone."


THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/07/21/wirq121.xml

Iraq is haunted by fear, warns US envoy
By Alex Spillius, Washington Correspondent


Fear is the word that best describes Iraq's mood and crucial political and security targets will almost certainly be missed, according to the new American ambassador.

Addressing 90 members of Congress by satellite link, Ryan Crocker said: "If there is one word I would use to sum up the atmosphere in Iraq -on the streets, in the countryside, in the neighbourhoods and at the national level - that word would be 'fear'."

Mr Crocker, who speaks Arabic and Persian, became ambassador to Iraq in March.

The assessment offered by the ambassador and senior military commanders was the frankest admission so far that President George W Bush's stubborn approach to the war is not delivering results anything like as quickly as Congress and voters would like.

Gen Raymond Odierno, the second highest ranking US officer in Iraq, also told reporters that he would need more time to evaluate whether the "surge" strategy was working.

The administration has agreed to report in mid-September on the success of the decision to send 30,000 more troops to Iraq.

But Mr Crocker and senior commanders have made it clear that September is not the turning point. "In order to do a good assessment, I need at least until November," said Gen Odierno.

Meanwhile Hillary Clinton reacted angrily yesterday to a Pentagon official who accused her of helping the "enemy" in Iraq. In a leaked letter, Eric Edelman, the defence department's undersecretary for policy, criticised her for asking about contingency plans for withdrawing troops.

Mrs Clinton, who is Senator for New York and the Democrats' frontrunner for the 2008 election, said that Mr Edelman had "made spurious arguments to avoid addressing contingency planning".

Thursday, 19 July 2007

Gaps In The Traffic




"Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good."

WH Auden


This is a phone picture taken of one of the paintings, well reproductions, depicting early Sydney Cove. It hangs on the walls of the government offices in Sydney, where we end up all the time for press conferences; watching the pollies strut themselves. An air of decay and deceit has attached itself to a dying Howard government, but the other side aren't very impressive, let me tell you.

I have to give a speech at parliament house next month on all this separated dad stuff; it's only 15 minutes but its making me nervous. It's not even all that controversial; well not amongst those who have followed the whole thing. I guess I have a bit of objectivity; not just being a decade away from the split but having done so many many stories for radio on it. An hour, or lately an hour and a half, is a lot of time to fill; and we've managed to fill it. Moving from being a bunch of unreconstructed Neanderthals, obsessive, angry, unlovely, to the most successful community radio program in Australia and the longest running fathers program in the world. One door shuts and another opens never more true. It came about when I used to drive work mad with endless story ideas; and in the end they wouldn't listen; thought I might be biased, as if!

I cry easily lately; even at Evening the other day; the old woman dying; Meryl Streep and her daughter were wonderful; my generation has been in love with her, watched her with fascination and admiration and enjoyment, for decades. Lots of change in the air; hold tight dear one.


THE STORY CONTINUES:

"It's nice to have their mother away; I needed the space," he said, a little pissed from the champagne. Buttering up to the boys who always like to hear stories about how badly any relationship with a woman was going. "Now I've got the mother-in-law."

"The gathering reached a point where no more champagne could be got, the kids grew grizzlier and grizzlier, and he had to go. Stephen helped him get the kids into the car, and he knew he did not go unnoticed - he saw Martin standing glass in hand on the pavement chatting to famous-author Dennis. He struggled the kids into the old bomb he'd outgrown but couldn't afford to replace. Martin, pretending not to watch, watched every move, taking in the cool air, his head at that particular, arrogant angle he had learnt to dislike so much.

"He dropped Stephen off at the house in Erskineville he shared with his boyfriend, dropped the kids off with the mother-in-law and went out. He had every intention of getting completely pissed. The babble of the bars, the deep darkness of bourbon and cokes, could always be guaranteed to distract him. In losing himself, he found himself, perched on bar stools, gossiping to new acquaintances or old."

THE BIGGER STORY:
Heading into an election, for Howard the news is all bad, decay and deceit:


No nuclear dumping, Howard vows
Melbourne Herald Sun, Australia - 4 hours ago
Speaking after the Herald Sun revealed that Australia was in talks to join an exclusive nuclear group, John Howard reiterated his determination to develop ...
Downer open to talks on nuclear pact with US Sydney Morning Herald
Of haste and waste Melbourne Herald Sun
PM says no to nuclear waste dump suggestions The Age
Melbourne Herald Sun - The Australian
all 109 news articles »

The Age Howard-Costello rift hurting nation - Swan
The Australian, Australia - 18 hours ago
TENSIONS between Prime Minister John Howard and his deputy Peter Costello risk damaging the national interest, federal Labor economic spokesman Wayne Swan ...
The end game The Australian
Readers' Comments Howard backs Costello ambitions Melbourne Herald Sun
Who follows the leader? The Age
The Australian - The Australian
all 483 news articles »
Young voters desert Howard
The Australian, Australia - 4 hours ago
Younger voters see John Howard as losing his nerve and not reacting well to pressure, the research says. Mr Rudd, on the other hand, is rated as energetic ...
Security gives Howard poll swing The Australian
Australian politics Economist
Labor can't rely on lead Melbourne Herald Sun
The Age - Brisbane Times
all 40 news articles »

The Leader - St. George Sutherland Shire Leader Howard's army at war with itself
The Australian, Australia - 19 Jul 2007
FOUR months out from a crunch election, John Howard's home division of the Liberal Party is in disarray. As he fights off Kevin Rudd on one side, ...
Towke future on hold Daily Telegraph
Liberals block Towke's candidacy The Australian
Lib candidate a Right mystery man The Australian
Daily Telegraph
all 24 news articles »

The Age The clear view of hindsight
Sydney Morning Herald, Australia - 4 hours ago
Some have proved winners for John Howard, while others brought him close to disaster, writes Phillip Coorey. Given the cut and thrust of politics, ...
City rivalry blamed in Lib tensions The Australian
The boy who would be PM The Age
all 3 news articles »
Public doubts Howard's way
Courier Mail, Australia - 5 hours ago
The answer might decide if John Howard, against mounting odds, wins an historic fifth term. Queensland magistrate Jacqui Payne was left red faced on Monday ...
Balance rights with security The Australian
Mockery won't make sorry better than safe Sydney Morning Herald
Howard promises proper trial Hindu
all 12 news articles »

The Age Howard's predicament
The Age, Australia - 19 Jul 2007
Paul Keating and Bob Hawke. Gordon Brown and Tony Blair. Peter Costello and John Howard. The latest Costello-Howard crisis is very Paul-and-Bob. ...
A peek into the secret past of our Prime Minister Brisbane Times
all 4 news articles »

The Age Take one Tube of vitriol, bring to boil
The Age, Australia - 5 hours ago
Prime Minister John Howard's foray onto the video-sharing website this week has backfired badly. Scores of rip-offs of his climate change announcement began ...
PM's YouTube foray 'a hit' The Australian
YouTube Howard parody not as popular as original The Age
Howard was YouTube hit before debut Border Mail
Australian IT - Kalgoorlie Golden Mail
all 37 news articles »

The Age Lost in cyber-flaming hell
The Age, Australia - 5 hours ago
JOHN Howard dipped his toe in some murky cyber-waters this week when he posted his first YouTube video. The piranhas that scour the web soon dragged the ...

Howard and Costello Not Even MySpace Friends
The Spoof (satire), UK - 8 hours ago
Australian Prime Minister John Howard's relationship with his treasurer has taken yet another beating today. It now appears that, not only has he never ...

Collide-o-sphere




"The wrong words on his lips and the wrong desires in his heart, and his arms full of air."
EM Forster

Took the day off sick. We're all down with a dose of the flu; vitamin C and orange juice and cough medicine, which is keeping me awake, anything keeps me awake. Don't know where I got the fantasy notion that human resources were there to help the workers, or to act as their advocates; I got incredibly worked up over nothing and made a fool of myself; but it shuts down other options and opens my eyes. This city, this country, this government, they get more disgusting by the hour.

THE STORY CONTINUES:

"Sometimes he sat in the pub and heard stories of the different people he used to know. Matthew, a wild boy round the place, loved a joint, loved a drink, hated work, had said, twisting his thumb and forefinger together, a bitchy little fucker when he wanted to be, you know what this is mate, the smallest joint in the world, and it's rolled just for you. They always got plastered. Sometimes they grew close, in conversation, in alcohol. He bounced from pillar to post. Lived the life. Then he was skeletal, very sick. Inexorably, it came time to go. He gathered his three remaining friends at his flat, said his goodbyes. It was the cruellest of things. Drunk, he shot $400 worth of smack. In the end they had to smother him with a cushion.

"In the crowd the kids clung close. Unlike the old days, he didn't know many people to talk to. It grew crowded and claustrophobic. He caught glimpses. It had seemed like love at the time. Now all he felt was anger at the wasted years. And relief it was over. Who'd want that life anyway? Leaving was th best thing he'd ever done, and he could never imagine being so demeaned ever again.

"He talked to someone he'd once known quite well, now a writer of reputation with a new book out, The Comfort of Men. The carnival of bodies, the tribal eroticism, all seemed such a long time ago.
'What have you been doing?' Dennis Altman asked.
'Breeding,' Michael said, gesturing, both arms full with children.
'I was trying not to act surprised,' Dennis said.

THE BIGGER STORY:

THE Treasurer, Peter Costello, has exposed the bitterness at the core of the Federal Government by describing his leader, John Howard, as a failed economic manager.

"The Howard treasurership was not a success in terms of interest rates and inflation," Mr Costello told the authors of a forthcoming book, adding: "He had not been a great reformer."

With the Prime Minister about to appeal for a fifth term in power based largely on the economic credentials of his Government, these criticisms threaten to harm its credibility and unity.

The Treasurer also accuses Mr Howard of malicious leaking against his deputy and heir presumptive, suggesting the Prime Minister had deliberately leaked an infamous memo to damage him.

"I read it as an attempt to finger me for the Government's maladies at that point," Mr Costello said of the 2001 publication of a memo to Mr Howard from the then federal president of the Liberal Party, Shane Stone. "Allegedly, only one copy was ever written by Shane and it was given to John Howard," Mr Costello said of the memo, which contained criticisms of him.

Two of the Prime Minister's senior staff were deputised to investigate the leak and "as far as I know they're still doing it", Mr Costello told the authors. "It's a long investigation this one."

And the book reports that, after 11 years in Government, John and Janette Howard have dined privately with various ministers and their wives but never as a foursome with Peter and Tanya Costello: "It might be a Sydney thing," the Treasurer archly suggests.

The remarks were made to the authors of John Winston Howard: The Biography, to be published next week by Melbourne University Press.

One of the authors, Peter van Onselen, associate professor of politics at Edith Cowan University in Perth, said he had interviewed Mr Costello twice last year, in August and October. The second author is Wayne Errington, a lecturer in politics at the Australian National University.

Mr Costello, whose leadership ambitions have been frustrated by Mr Howard's tenure, portrays his forbearance as one of the Government's great strengths.

He contrasts his patience with Mr Howard's history: "The rival ambitions of Howard and Peacock plunged the party into defeat in Opposition," he tells the authors. "They were prepared to do that.

"Keating was prepared to do it to Hawke. Whatever my own ambitions were, the party was always greater than them. I think that's been a big part of our success over the last 10 years."

Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Your Images Are Being Loaded





"Conscious that life grew daily more amazing, he said nothing. What had deepened his vision? Section after section the armies of humanity were coming alive. Alive, but slightly absurd; they misunderstood him so utterly: they exposed their weakness when they thought themselves most acute. He could not help smiling."
E.M. Forster


This photograph was a part of one of those extraordinary days that only this century can provide. I got to work at 7.30am. By 8.30am we had been ordered to the airport to cover the breaking of the drought out in the west, past Broken Hill; something like 1300 kilometres by road. The photographer, Ren, one of those wonderful in your face modern girls, a great character, chatting on the phone, driving, transmitting, talking to me, radio blaring, all happening at once. The airport was chaos; wild weather and thick fog had delayed all the flights; which suited us, we managed to catch the plane; passing through security, shoes off, metal tips, all of that.

We landed in Broken Hill, having seen the dramatic stretches of water ponding across the red earth, and headed west 70 kilometres in a hire car to do the farmer. We couldn't get to his house; the road was cut off by a flooding creek, and we tooted our horn. He was a classic from the minute he showed up: "It's so wet a duck'd get bogged," he declared. These were the best rains in a decade, virtually the only rains in a decade; and the drought ravaged property had been transformed overnight. That evening the frogs, buried for all those years in cases of mud, would be out, croaking and flirting; and the bloke was philosophical with the beauty of it all.

Look at that, he said, see that ant on that leaf. He must think he's in the middle of the Pacific!

It's beautiful, he kept declaring, just beautiful.

We transmitted the story and it was on the front page the next day; everybody happy. We were back in Sydney by 11; and by midday I was down at a press conference in windy Phillip Street, listening to water policy from prime ministerial aspirant Malcolm Turnbull.

The subtext was that the bloke was dying. "I'm riddled with cancer," he declared, cheerfully, well boldly, anyway. "They don't know why I'm still alive."

The farm which we described in such lyrical terms was being sold up and the family was moving down to Mildura to be with their disabled son, who was also dying. They couldn't have been a nicer family. Putting them on the front page was a nice way to help them say goodbye to the land. There are echoes, stories, footprints, wherever you look.

THE STORY CONTINUES:

"It was only a month since Bruce had died. Headboy, as he had been known, was a big handsome strapping lad who hadn't been ready to go. Much of the inner city was plastered with Headboy graffiti. His ultimate dream had been to be in a rock band.

"Headboy got in a few gigs before he got too sick to perform any more. He, Michael, would go round and visit him, sit in his public housing flat, feel the silence lap around them. It was so difficult to know what to say. How you feeling? Cheer up, things will get better.

"Things patently were only going to get worse. Angry at everything, Headboy made no effort to make his visitors feel comfortable. He was dying and didn't like one fucking thing about it. In and out of hospital for months, he could only envy the health of others. On his last day Michael went to see him in hospital. As he walked down the corridor towards the ward some of Headboy's friends were walking the other way. 'It's too late,' they said, tears in their eyes."

THE BIGGER STORY:


Forbes:


BAGHDAD - For Marine Gen. Peter Pace, the last of the original military planners of the Iraq war, visiting U.S. troops this week was not exactly a victory lap en route to his earlier-than-expected retirement.

But neither did it evoke a sense of defeat.

From the things he said and did, what may well be his farewell tour seemed almost business-as-usual for the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff: inspecting, questioning, encouraging commanders and troops.

Pace, a lanky man with a ready smile and a knack for public speaking without notes, is the only Marine to serve as chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the pinnacle of the American military hierarchy. He has been the principal military adviser to the president and the secretary of defense since October 2005, and for four years before that he was the Joint Chiefs' No. 2.

"I'm going to run through the finish line," he said on the way into Baghdad this week. And then he did run, almost literally, from one commanders' meeting to another, from one question-and-answer session with troops to another.

With obvious joy, he presided at a re-enlistment ceremony. With clear sorrow, he knelt at a 3rd Infantry Division monument to the soldiers it has lost here, sifting through dog tags to read each detail.

Although his Oct. 1 retirement date is drawing near, Pace said he'd be back. And he insisted that the visit carried no special meaning beyond the usual importance of inspecting things first hand, which he did from dawn to dusk and beyond, across Baghdad and in the restive city of Ramadi.

"This visit for me is the same as the one last month and the one I would have made in October if I was still around," he said in an interview. "This is me doing what I should do: getting out, visiting with troops, listening to commanders ... taking the pulse on the ground, getting my own sense of the battle."

It's a battle that almost no one who was involved at the start had imagined would still be in doubt.

During the run-up to the U.S. invasion in March 2003 and for the next two years Pace was vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs, second fiddle to Air Force Gen. Richard Myers. In that role he had a voice in war planning and Iraq policy but was not widely viewed as an architect of the strategy for toppling Saddam Hussein.

Even so, at a stage in the war where prominent lawmakers of President Bush's own party are calling for troop withdrawals, Pace is now seen as part of the crowd that turned a quick military triumph into a quagmire.

Tuesday, 17 July 2007

Pack Mentality

 
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This is Sydney in the early morning, when I often walk, an insomniac who hates sleeping pills. There's a lot on today and I'm nervous, things I shouldn't have to cope with but do; courage and strength that I need to be granted; for the love of God and personality and the bitter twists; thank you for all that has brought me here; I really don't want to go through it, no way forward, no way back, I can only pass through. All over an interview to stand up for myself. Get a grip man.

THE STORY CONTINUES:

"He went with Stephen and the kids to the opening of the Mardi Gras art show. Martin, still the ultimate culture vulture, was there, soaking it all up. Courage in the face of AIDS. Our growing identity. Our tragedy. Death in brotherhood.

"They nodded at each other, said nothing. The brutal, devestating times hovered unspoken between them, the days when all his hopes, everything he had wanted, had centred in the other person, and had disintegrated entirely. He had always thought that if he ever saw Martin again he'd fucking kill him. But it wasn't like that. It was almost therapeutic. There were paintings about love and death and sex all around them. It was hot and hard finding a beer in a sea of champagne. They sensed each other but didn't say a word. There was too much between them to be forgiven. The sense of betrayal was too deep. For a long time he had never thought it would reach this stage, thought they would be friends if not lovers for life.

"What had passed between them, was passing between them, was trivial in this world where there were deeper themes. Grief, the human spirit, enormous courage, the saddest of deaths of men far too young to die. Friends and acquaintances had gone by the dozen, a whole stratum of Sydney life. They weren't ready to go."


THE BIGGER STORY:

The tide has turned, with bloody good reazson:

From The Age:

Climate of election scrutiny steals Howard's thunder

NOTEBOOK

IT DIDN'T didn't start well. Usually at functions such as yesterday's Melbourne Press Club lunch, the guest of honour is feted in introduction, and a national leader of 11 years' standing could reasonably expect an even more gracious preamble.

That courtesy was not extended to John Howard yesterday, for while he was flattered as "a very successful Prime Minister", he was also warned as he stood: "It would appear many voters, certainly some voters, have fallen out of love with Mr Howard, that after 11 years the flame has died."

He was reminded, as if it were necessary, "that if the current opinion polls continue through to election day, Mr Howard faces the strong prospect of defeat by Kevin Rudd, even though Labor would have to win a very large 16 seats".

Mr Howard was in Melbourne to talk about climate change, to unveil another plank in his Government's efforts against global warming. But it was an uninspired performance. Professional, yes, and without noticeable error, but the Prime Minister's speech was workmanlike and its delivery without noticeable passion.

He told his audience that only with a strong economy could Australia deliver the best environmental outcomes.

And he argued his was the government most committed to combating climate change, sensibly and dispassionately.

"No great challenge has ever yielded to fear or guilt," he said. "Nor will this one."

He was talking about climate change, but could well have been discussing the topic in the front of every mind in the room: his electoral prospects.

Predictably, the first question from the floor was not about the issue to which he had dedicated the previous 20 minutes. It was about him, his leadership, his Government's future.

"Do you think you're the problem?" the Prime Minister was asked bluntly.

Recent coverage:

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Saturday, 14 July 2007

How Bush Rules




This is a picture of the Chiang Mai Flower festival, where I went with the kids in January; running up the credit cards but enjoying the escape. It covered 80 hectares, and the orchid section alone was enormous; from the world's tiniest and rarest orchids to common ones like these. The kids were bored witless but I loved it. Still reading How Bush Rules, whjich is a fascinating study on the abuse of power and the pig ignorance of the ruling classes. Our own Prime Minister here in Australia John Howard has made great play of beiong a good friend of George Bush; including those cloying scenes from his last trip to Washington, when he was given the full treatment, the evening ball, the military parades, not so sure about the 21 gun salute but all that sort of thing. The two of them standing at the podium backing each other up, patting each other on the back. Bush said something to the effect; he might not be the prettiest thing; but if he says something you can take it to the bank. Here in Australia he's called the rodent for his double crossing and superficial nature; the Opposition's denigration of him as "clever" or conniving well and truly starting to stick; as we drive through deserted towns, shut shops, no one on the streets; no life; the homogenous conformity of a nightmare culture created by these tyrannical born to rule idiots.

The nation has suffered enough; but there is nowhere to turn. If you're 30 years and you began voting at 18 you've never known anyone else but Howard; and the lure of the other side as some sort of national saviour is strong. But labour leader Kevin Rudd, Crudd as my father repeatedly calls him, will be just as bad, just as hypocritical, just as out of touch with ordinary working people; and the well oiled machine that is the Labor party will produce just as many inequities as Howard.

Early in the year a desperate Howard, trying to focus the drifting nation's attention, said "If you change the Prime Minister you change the country". And everyone went: "Yes!!!!". He hasn't made that mistake again.

THE STORY CONTINUES:

"He couldn't quite see how he could go to the Mardi Gras with the two young ones, but he would have liked the almost therapeutic abandonment of the ocasion. Perhaps the mother-in-law would mind the kids. He roped his friend Stephen into helping him with them on somie of the after-work cruise arounds to openings and launches in the month long Mardi Gras festival leading up to the parade.

"They were certainly the only children at most of the events, a statement which appealed to Stephen. Whereas in the past these events would have been just the beginning of a long night out, they always had to leave early as he headed home to get the kids to bed. Stephen was one of his few old gay friends who had accepted his shift in sexuality.

"Most of them thought he was no longer being true to himself. If a married man left his wife and took up on the scene, he was applauded. If you moved the other way, you were a betrayer, of yourself, of the community. 'I've got two kids now', he'd told an old friend proudly one night, shortly after Henrietta's birth. 'I don't know you any more', the friend said, and walked away."


THE BIGGER STORY:


ABC:

Pygmies move from zoo after outcry

Congo authorities say a troupe of pygmy musicians made to live at the zoo while performing at a music festival in the country's capital have been given with accommodation in a local school.

The plight of the 22 pygmies, whose tents became an attraction for curious Brazzaville zoo visitors, provoked outrage among civil rights groups in Congo.

All the other musicians playing at the July 8-14 pan-African FESPAM festival were provided with hotel rooms.

The pygmies, from Congo's north-east Likouala forest region, had been gathering wood daily in the zoo to prepare fires to cook their food, often with tourists snapping photos of them.

The Congo Government says it ordered the relocation of the pygmies late on Friday.

Organisers of the music festival, which ends later today, told Radio France International that as pygmies normally live in the forest, they had hoped to recreate their natural habitat by housing them in the zoo, which has wooded areas.

Pygmies frequently complain of being marginalised and treated with disrespect by governments in central Africa, while their jungle habitat is degraded and destroyed.