The Home Paddock

"Can today's Australians inhabit such landscape? Can we feel at home there? When you find yourself in a pale dune field at sunset, with the sky blush pink and deepest indigo, or when you look out from the crest of an inland mesa at the clouds in their indifferent race across the sky, such questions tend to dissolve, and patterns and thought chains separate from man's deliberate kingdom take hold. I have always felt, at such moments, on the verge of dissolution - close to death, as much as on the threshold of new revelations in the march of life - and rather than imposing my will on country, or on landscape, and prolonging the dictatorship of control and consciousness, I am overwhelmed. I am a creature of new rhythm, and the desert, and the inland, are writing me."
Nicholas Rothwell.

At last we arrived at the so-called main house block. It was a large almost flat area cleared out of the forest, perhaps 200 metres square; where I could imagine a large Queenslander, with verandas all around, providing comfort and television to those who sought isolation in this place. In its centre was a tiny caravan which appeared to have been abandoned some years ago. I sat outside, in a funk, while Henry banged around inside, clearing rubbish, supposedly so I could sleep on the floor. although I had no sleeping bag and no blankets. And right about now I started wondering, why the hell did you invite me here?

When the banging ceased for a moment, I looked inside the no doubt spider ridden interior. Why can't I just crash on your veranda, it would be much more comfortable? I asked; and he looked up startled with those huge blue psychotic eyes; and then kept on banging and moving things around. So I sat outside and watched the forest darken into night; until finally he emerged and said: you're right, I can't sleep here.

It's alright, I said, it's only a few hours drive to my place.

My place, with a shower and electricity, and which I had thought primitive because of its unfurnished state.

So we walked and walked, back to his shed; sat and talked for a while about God knows what; and then made our way back more kilometres through the bush; back to the neighbours. I tried to show a bit of interest in all the trees he had planted; but in the dark there was nothing to see but fear itself; and we kept on trudging until the car finally appeared out of my exhaustion. The man was eating the dinner of mince on toast his wife had just prepared; and she was on the way to bed when we arrived and didn't let us stop her, although having a guest out here must be the rarest of things. We talked about roads and signs and roundabouts; and finally I was on the way, poking my way down the narrow dirt road in the middle of the night; finally reaching the asphalt and civilisation.

Alone, the shadows chased me, the lights on high beam as the car raced through the frightening forest; my consciousness vaulted into the high reaches of the trees; speeding to escape a nightmare. High in the Great Dividing Range I pulled over and slept; first outside an unopened hotel, seeking human comfort even in a car park outside a building still under construction; and then in an alcove overlooking a valley. And had nothing to say. There was nothing to understand. Random nature had taken me here; and would take me further; not jails institutions and death as in the old days; but hospitals sickness and death; with tubes and nurses, white sheets and narrow, forlorn views out tiny windows. All of our futures make the present seem like paradise; to be valued despite the gripping, non-sensical nature of events. Despite the fear in the black black skies.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/no-retreat-in-antarctic-whaling-standoff/2008/01/16/1200419885261.html

A GRIM stand-off held firm last night over activists detained by Japanese whalers in the Antarctic.

Despite repeated demands by Foreign Affairs Minister Stephen Smith for a speedy and safe return of the Sea Shepherd men, they were still confined on the whaling ship, Yushin Maru No. 2.

Attention was turning to the potential role of the Australian Government's patrol ship, Oceanic Viking, as an intermediary in the dispute.

Mr Smith said the Government had urged co-operation and restraint from both sides. "Neither captain involved should set conditions beyond those necessary to ensure the men's safe return," he said.

But the whalers required "full security" from protest for their research fleet in exchange for the Australian, Benjamin Potts, and Briton, Giles Lane, who clambered on to the Japanese ship on Tuesday.

A long record of dangerous protest by Sea Shepherd meant that the fleet was worried about its response during a handover, said Hideki Moronuki, the deputy director of the Fisheries Agency of Japan.

http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,23059233-662,00.html


SECURITY at the Australian embassy in Afghanistan is under scrutiny after Taliban extremists attacked the Kabul hotel that houses the mission, killing at least seven people.

The gun, grenade and suicide bomb attack at the five-star Serena Hotel injured several others, but the Australians were said to be safe.

Officials are confident the embassy was not the target.

But Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has promised a review of security.

The Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade says protection for the embassy is provided by a private Australian security firm.

Mr Rudd has asked DFAT for an urgent assessment of its security needs in Afghanistan.