By the spit and the black pot in the log bright light
And the cup and the cut bread in the dancing shade,
In the muffled house, in the quick of night,
At the point of love, forsaken and afraid.
He knelt on the cold stones,
He wept from the crest of grief, he prayed to the veiled sky
May his hunger go howling on bare white bones
Past the statues of the stables and the sky roofed sties
And the duck pond glass and the blinding byres alone
Into the home of prayers
And fires where he should prowl down the cloud
Of his snow blind love and rush in the white lairs.
His naked need struck him howling and bowed
Though no sound flowed down the hand folded air
But only the wind strung
Hunger of birds in the fields of the bread of water, tossed
In high corn and the harvest melting on their tongues.
And his nameless need bound him burning and lost
When cold as snow he should run the wended vales among
The rivers mouthed in night,
And drown in the drifts of his need, and lie curled caught
In the always desiring centre of the white
Inhuman cradle and the bride bed forever sought
By the believer lost and the hurled outcast of light.
Deliver him, he cried,
By losing him all in love, and cast his need
Alone and naked in the engulfing bride,
Never to flourish in the fields of the white seed
Or flower under the time dying flesh astride.
Dylan Thomas A Winter's Tale
Shaken not stirred, it was the ridicule that got to him, even though he had brought it upon himself. I've never known such a depressive character, the man said; and there he had been all day, grinning his gap toothed grin, trying so hard to sit in a positive frame. Something had gone wrong long ago, deep in his soul. Born deficient, his childhood had created massive malfunctions throughout his life. Did they try their best, is that what that was? He didn't know. All he knew was that as he made those custard milkshakes, back in the day, filling them to the top to impress the kids from school, that he already knew he was never going to fit in, not here, not anywhere.
The surfies came in from the beach, fit, muscled, girlfriends in tow, and he was the funny little thing behind the counter on his first job; trying so hard to remember everything, accomplishing great things as his head swirled with images, just as it always had. Who were these people, these creatures, here in this remote outpost of civilisation, everyone else seeing the sun breaking on the surf and the lonely pines lining along the front of the beach. It was the scene of his recent suicide attempt, and while the handsome young men shook the salt water from their hair and the girls fawned over them, he could barely keep from crying.
He didn't know why he was like this, a complete mess. His legs and his back still stung from the last brutal belting; and he wondered if the money from the job could help him to escape. There had to be a way out from the tree lined streets and the psychotic rustling of the gums, there had to be a way out from the doom laden project that was his family. He made the milkshakes the way he liked them himself, full to the top. And back then custard was a real flavour, perhaps not as popular as vanilla or chocolate, but up there for the cognoscenti.
All his "mates" from school came in to check out his latest humiliation, tried to scam free milkshakes while the owner kept a close eye. Money changed hands. There was the whisper of drugs on the outskirts, soon to become full blown. This was a beach side suburb and this was the sixties; and even here in this remote, wind filled place they could feel the beat of a different world, the planet shifting on its axis.
That lonely beach, that terrible time, his name echoing out of the waves as he walked and he walked along the edge of the crashing surf, waiting for the pills to take affect, waiting to die. He didn't die and he didn't know why, as he lingered at the edge of the sea. He didn't want to go home, he didn't want to face another belting, not this time, not now. The tears flowed down his face in a flood and no one said: are you alright mate. You don't have to die.
How cruel it was, what they had done to him. He withdrew further and further, behind the screens, his face buried constantly in a book. He was growing older and his reading was changing. As a child he had swallowed every single Famous Five and Secret Seven book, every last one of them on the local library shelf. He had read and reread Swallows and Amazons as if it was the bible, happy kids playing on the edge of a lake faraway, happy kids with happy decent families. They weren't being beaten black and blue, they weren't sitting here on the bench, waiting to die.
He couldn't face it any more, the belts, the ridicule. Nothing he did was right. While his mother appreciated his playing the piano his father stomped around the house as if there could be nothing worse, there was a pansy in the house. His fingers flashed across the piano keyboards, learning the Rite of Spring and other pieces of the day. The only peace was when his father, an airline pilot, went away for work. Then the beltings stopped and his bruises healed, and the rustling of the gum trees no longer seemed demonic.
But even then, as his mother prepared the family for the end time, for the coming apocalypse, he struggled with these doom laden beliefs. There they were, the ceaseless lines of souls, snaking down mythical steps through mystical buildings, waiting to be judged, waiting to die. God was there, cruel, determining who would be given eternal life and who would die. Elsewhere, Beatlemania was sweeping the world. Up there, in those remote tree filled bends of Wallamutta Road, they were preparing for the second coming, for Christ to rescue them all from the deviance and wickedness the Beatles no doubt represented. He bowed his head and he tried to pray, tried to accept the Christian God of their understanding. And the wind swept ever louder through the gum trees, and he shivered, waiting for the coming storm.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-08/06/content_9003728.htm
ALMATY, Aug. 6 (Xinhua) -- The Beijing Olympic Games will impress the whole world, Kazakh President Nursultan Nazarbayev told Xinhua on Wednesday.
"Beijing hosting the Olympic Games for the first time is an honor for China as it is a reflection of the trust of the whole world. So, once again I would like to congratulate the Chinese people and their leaders," Nazarbayev said before setting off for a two-day visit to Mongolia, from where he will head to the Chinese capital to attend the Games' opening ceremony.
"China's preparation for the Olympic Games has been excellent. Large amounts of money have been invested in the construction of stadiums and infrastructures. The whole world is expecting a marvelous event," he said.
Kazakhstan will have 132 athletes competing in 22 disciplines at the Beijing Games. The number of participants is higher than at the Athens Olympics, and the Kazakh women's volleyball and handball teams have qualified for the global event for the first time.
The Kazakh athletes aim to win at least ten or eleven medals, said Nazarbayev, adding that all the people of his country, including himself, were looking forward to fantastic performances from their compatriots, especially in events in which Kazakhstan enjoys a traditional advantage.
The president spoke of his great love for sports as a kid and his strong interest in wrestling as a teenager. He later developed an interest in tennis, golf and other sports, and even began to learn alpine skiing at the age of 55. He also instinctively loves horsemanship.
"Life lies in motion. No matter how busy I am, I take some time to exercise, even on a long-distance flight," said Nazarbayev.
The global Olympic torch relay started in Almaty, the biggest city of Kazakhstan, in April this year and Nazarbayev was the first person to carry the flame.
"The Olympic Games is a festival of the whole world. The torch relay coming to Kazakhstan for the first time was an honor for my country," he said.
http://www.dw-world.de/dw/article/0,2144,3541794,00.html
A deadly mortar attack in northwestern China has stirred up fear of attacks during the Olympic Games in Beijing. However, whether the Games are really in danger is a highly disputed matter.
According to Chinese authorities, the attack in the Muslim region of Xinjiang, which killed 16 police officers on Monday, Aug. 4, was carried out by terrorists. This is the second attack of this kind in Xinjiang in the past two weeks. Now the question is: How concerned should the world be of an attack during the Olympics.
Terrorism is the biggest threat during the Games, Rohan Gunaratna, one of Singapore's most prominent terrorism experts, told the Chinese daily Straits Times.
Head of the the International Center for Political Violence and Terrorism Research at the Nanyang Technological University, Gunaratna said the Olympic Security Committee categorizes al Qaeda, the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (ETIM), Tibetan separatists and the Falun Gong sects as threats.
Gunaratna said he believes the ETIM poses the biggest threat. That group was blamed for Monday's attack by the China Daily newspaper.
The Beijing fortress
A map showing the location of Kashgar in China.Bildunterschrift: Großansicht des Bildes mit der Bildunterschrift: The attack took place in the most western reaches of the country
Other political observers warned against lapsing into panic or dramatizing the danger to the Games in Beijing.
The Chinese capital can be compared to a fortress, and that the danger of an attack is therefore remote, according to East Asian expert Xuewu Gu. Xuewu added that the most dangerous groups are not in a position to stage an attack in Beijing because they are being forced to deal with the police outside the capital.
http://www.theage.com.au/national/keating-castigates-rudd-on-super-20080806-3r6b.html
FORMER prime minister Paul Keating has attacked the Rudd Government for failing to lift compulsory superannuation savings to ensure Australians have a comfortable retirement.
Mr Keating - who introduced compulsory superannuation and had planned to increase it from 9% to 15% before losing office in 1996 - said the chance to ensure baby boomers could enjoy a comfortable retirement on incomes close to weekly earnings was now lost.
"Anyone born in the 1940s can't now be in the system long enough," Mr Keating said. "It's impossible now to look after the baby boomers. Impossible."
While Mr Keating blamed the Howard government for failing to use the boom of 2003-07 to boost compulsory superannuation, he also criticised the Rudd Government. "This Government, like the last one, is doing nothing about taking superannuation to 15%. Not even to 12."
On The 7.30 Report he criticised the Government for the lack of an overarching narrative, suggesting it should focus on improving productivity and cementing Australia in Asia, including through the pursuit of a republic.
Mr Keating said unless the 15% mark was reached - and people were encouraged to take superannuation in regular payments rather than as a lump sum - Australia would have to settle for providing a pension to keep people from destitution rather than helping them enjoy a comfortable retirement.
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