Cry Me A River Lisped The Dribbling Hysteric

*

He still didn't know where they came from. The malls of ruined statues. The glistening hyper-spun glue that coated every surface. The half formed voices snapping in the unquiet wind. All was at discord and all was at peace. The stabs of pain were a reminder of mortality. The workers watched him as he passed; always at roughly the same time, 4 am. It had been the same in Sydney. Restless in Seattle was the only title that came to mind, trite, as he walked restless, gassap gassai, through this astonishing, 24-hour place, the fleets of neon pink and blue taxis passing beneath the overpass, the soaring high rise condos, the Ascot, The Sathon, Welcome To The Future, Ambience Arriving Soon declare the signs, Starting 3.5 MB, Mingle, Where You Live Says Who You Are, The Riverside, A New Kind Of Luxury, soar above them all they imply, away from the traditional streets, the crowded rooms, the Thais uncomfortable if they're alone, four to a room, a way of life at odds with the soaring skyscrapers and office blocks towering over the slums, or traditional neighbourhoods, however you wanted to describe them, coffee 12 baht, 30 cents, an aching heart, a handsome face, the young spilling out of some dance club, falang, falang, foreigner, foreigner, you want take care? They jostled each other, as if it was their duty in life to provide sexual services to every tourist. The girls demurred. They liked the young men they were with far too much to bother earning tips from some ugly old European. The boys told him they would be working at the X-Size bar the following evening. He laughed and kept on walking. The streets were so welcoming. The fabric of things embraced him. These were things he could never have made up.

It was such a shift from the malignant frame he had occupied for so many years. Now all these tiny things, scenes he treasured so much as they vanished before him in tiny glimpses, were all part of the daily assault. The ailing millionaire. Multi. Short. Hardly pretty. Lived near Mayfair, Highgate was it, with his wife of 35 years. And just happened to buy two Bangkok bars both called Hot Male Station less than a kilometre apart; and a go go bar called Night Boys. He had his pick. He had been in hospital. The funny looking man he assumed to be Jewish, although he told him he had been born in Africa with some sort of Indian heritage somewhere in there, lived in London, had an office in New York. The business man had embraced him merrily, fondly, as if he too was part of his paradise of flesh, though he was in his 50s and long past competing with anything the locals could offer; here in between, here as the doors shut, a brief glimpse, a flutter, the lady boy, Lee, or Mr Lee, we called him, he of the handsome husband. Best silicone tits in Thailand he would fondly declare, giving them an affectionate feel, a Thai sniff. She would laugh with him and stick them out even further, hard as rock, knowing he always tipped, was never trouble, quiet, watched, went home. These were too tight networks and he did not stray. Not here. Not today. Not now. The owner had bought the five story building for something like 35,000 pound, if he heard him correctly over the disco beat, and had occupied the top floor as his own private Idaho, the boys ushering him up into the secluded premises, everything away, everything darkness, all away, all away, the sick little frog man, the amiable giant, the millionaire, married, with a taste for the lads. It's so easy, he had confided to him, one early morn. What, do you take three or four up there at a time, he asked. Oh dear no, one is enough. My heart. Does your wife know? He shrugged. Thirty five years. Three children. She good. I love her.

As if that mattered, as the sky lightened. Already the sois were aflicker with activity, the street peddlers, the morning food, coffee now, and toast and jam, all for a few baht, the western influence, jostling with the spicy "pet" traditional Asian breakfast; in a city which was remaking itself by the day, a new giant born every day, picturesque abandoned houses waiting to be redeveloped, time out of mind, time a strange little nugget dancing silver before him, tired at last. He tipped the handsome doorman who always saw him safely into a taxi. The desperate roamed in that hour in between the day and the night; the older, trickier "boys" who hadn't pulled a customer accosting him in the poorly lit streets or just whiling away the last of the night before going home to sleep for the day. He knew when he was fair game and when he was safe. There had never been any trouble. He would open the morning gate quietly and nestle back into bed with the one he had picked because he knew he would fight off all the others, protect his interests, make sure he was protected. An easy sleeper, like many Thai men, at first the lad never knew he would disappear in the middle of the night, roaming the streets of Bangkok just as he had roamed the streets of Sydney, fundamentally restless, staring fascinated at the 24-hour building sites with the welding flares lighting up against the unfinished structures, the workers in their blue outfits covering the site at night, delineated under the arc lights, more striking than during the day when their tiny figures were overwhelmed by the clutter of the city, muffled by the pollution haze. Now his bed buddy was used to the fact that he wandered around at all hours of the night; knew perfectly well sex was not the motive. Kun gassap gassai, you restless, he would say, with a kind of increasing affection, or at least understanding, as the months past. All foreigners were strange, essentially beyond understanding. Yet the spasmodic pick had worked to a large degree in an imperfect world. Happy with his new station in life the boy would drive off to university in his car proud as punch, the sound system pounding with joy. He would look on from the front porch with a kind of affectionate pleasure, having woken to a clean house and Thai breakfast laid out on the kitchen table, glad that at least someone was enjoying the fruits of his labours. It was a different place, a different world. Each day he learnt a new word. Buhen Phai. Different. Rayn lahp or luek lahp. Secret. No one would ever know what the world really looked like from this side of the multi-flared windows. I wave you goodbye. I welcome you into my heart. In the wide glittering spaces of the airport, under the security cameras, he shrugged. Good to see you old friend.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://news.google.com.au/nwshp?hl=en&tab=wn

LABOR Party national president Anna Bligh has backed a complete review of the government's border protection policies

The call comes as political unity over the Christmas Island asylum boat disaster crumbled.

As the frantic search continued for survivors of Wednesday's horror sinking, the opposition said it would not join a proposed bipartisan group announced by Julia Gillard yesterday.

The rebuff came as The Australian learned that Indonesian authorities were searching for an Iranian in the belief he had planned the doomed people-smuggling operation.

It can also be revealed that the two patrol boats that participated in yesterday's rescue, plucking 41 survivors from the sea, were stationed off Christmas Island only because the seas were too rough to resume regular patrols.

The official death toll last night rose to 30, including four children and four babies, after divers recovered the bodies of man in his 20s and a boy about 10 years old, near the sunken hull.

However, the government, which yesterday announced three investigations into the tragedy, said the toll was likely to rise because up to 100 Iraqis, Iranians and Kurds were believed to have been aboard the boat.

Locals said bodies could be trapped for weeks in underwater caves at the site of the boat wreck, 200m from the island's only safe harbour, Flying Fish Cove.

Ms Bligh, the Queensland Premier, speaking in her federal leadership capacity with the ALP, yesterday agreed the "catastrophic tragedy" would raise questions about whether Christmas Island should continue to host the nation's biggest immigration detention camp.

She said the Prime Minister's decision to return to work from holidays demonstrated that she understood the implications for "policy settings in relation particularly to this island".

Asked whether the Indian Ocean territory had become a magnet for people-smuggling, Ms Bligh told The Australian: "I really do think it is premature to be jumping to specific conclusions. All I am saying is that . . . when a shocking incident like this happens, it's incumbent on all of us to have a really good look at all the settings, and we should have the courage to do so.

"This is an absolutely catastrophic tragedy and when we understand better the circumstances that led to it . . . I would expect that we as a nation would have a long, hard look at what it all means."

http://www.smh.com.au/technology/technology-news/tagged-and-triumphant-assange-breathes-fresh-air-again-and-heads-for-the-manor-20101217-18zv4.html

Julian Assange has emerged triumphant from custody in London, more than four hours after the British High Court upheld bail with tight conditions, including electronic tagging.

As he stepped through the doors of the British High Court on the dot of 6pm to thunderous cheers, he stopped on the steps, smiled and said it was “great to smell the fresh air of London again”.

Dressed in dark suit and collared white shirt, Assange looked pale but elated and defiant, immediately thanking his supporters worldwide, as well as his legal team, led by Australian QC, Geoffrey Robertson.

He expressed gratitude to “all the people around the world who have supported me and my team while I’ve been away, to my lawyers who put up a brave and ultimately successful fight and those who provided sureties and who provided money in face of great difficulty”.

He also thanked members of the press who “dug deeper in their work” and the British justice system “where if justice is not always an outcome at least it is not dead yet.”

With a deep breath, he said that during his time “in solitary confinement in the bottom of a Victorian prison I had time to reflect on the conditions of those people around the world also in solitary confinement, also on remand in conditions that were more difficult than those faced by me. Those people also need your attention and support,” he said.

Sunset Dreaming by Carlotta Ceawlin.

The Dawn of Everything

*

How did that matter? You, me, finished now, he heard the voice shout. He could hear them coming out of all the houses. He could hear every sputter of a bike in the surrounding network of sois, coming for me, coming to see me, he thought, but of course these were all illusions masquerading in a masque, the fabric of things. He had sat in front of the computer finishing off Chaos and now it was time to move on to something else. Fortunes were made and lost. Midlake and the Deep Dark Woods had been getting a bit of a thrashing, inter-cut with Bob Dylan's Desire, Blonde on Blonde and even Stranger Strange, how you listen to the river of my curdled song. These were the days, but were they really? The synapses misfiring. Mistrust all around. Treachery. He knew he was being set up. He walked the other way. He talked for hours to the strange little man. Was there any way around this, or through this? Crashing, crashing. Preoccupations came and went so swiftly. The boys all told him later the owner was in hospital. They had all seen him being embraced by the top dog. The man with business interests on every continent. Wish I had his brain for business, he thought. And outside the night swirled into another enterprise, the bus connection to the sky train station Chong Nongsi cutting a dramatic ark in the middle of the night, the welding sparks cascading onto the street and the traffic below.

He wasn't, he noticed a day or two later, the only one who thought the sight of those Thai workers dangling from the metal structure not just dramatic but beautiful, with a foreigner, falang, having set up his tripod and carefully taking shot after of the ultimate urban landscape. It's astonishing, he commented to Alex, whose books sold by the bucket load to teenage girls across the English speaking world, the amount of building going on in Bangkok. Boyfriends with Girlfriends was the latest title, to be released in the New Year. The title spelt instant sales and he said as much. Alex was one of the few program people he had ever met who showed a genuine interest in other people, asking perceptive, searching questions about their lives and actually listening to the answers. I care about you, he said, over the restaurant table, the gold fish swimming at their feet. Shawn, who had done his PHD on Foucault and could well be one of the thousand or so people in the world it is estimated who genuinely understand the famous French philosopher, gave a curious exposition about Camus and a book he reminded him was called The Plague, about the nature of humanity, the core principles, the things that make us what we are. The fish, their white and gold and red lit by under-lights, swirled past their feet. How did you end up in South Africa, Alex asked Shawn.

The world has become as one, Alex observed. I went to the Seychelles last year, Alex added, looking for somewhere completely isolated, different, uncorrupted by the world. Might as well have been in America. I went to the place Al, the whisky priest, had in Africa. Incredibly remote. Yet the nearest shops were the same. Could have been anywhere. Chiang Mai, he contributed, used to be one of the most picturesque places on earth, flowers everywhere, no one could afford a car, there was no traffic, the most dominant sound was the ringing of the rick shaw bells. Now it's just another place. Same with Lahore in northern Pakistan. Once it was biblical in feel, beautiful, remote, Muslim. Now it's just another bustling place. The world was converging. But it's a fascinating time to be alive, he observed. At no other time in history has it been possible to access so much information, to snoop on such a myriad of stories, to see so much of the world from your own home. What drives you, Alex asked. Pain. No, he said. I am not suicidal. Bored, Shawn piped in. That's an easy one. Only yesterday Shawn had texted him, at Coffee Society, come buy me something and I'll pretend to be interested in your life. No go, he responded in the simple English he had adopted amongst the non-English speakers with which he spent so much time. I want to be one of the few people in your life who don't pay for your company in one way or another, financially, in personal grief, he messaged through the ether. How many hearts did you torment, white whore in Thailand? Oh John, I'm so gorgeous, if I could f... myself I'd never leave the apartment. You're 50 dear, he snapped back, get a grip. I'm not too old to be a whore, I'm sure, he whipped back. Amazing what you can do with trickery and light. Blind lust and eyes that will never see. The dark velvet that is there where only you can be carried. As if it all meant something, these tangled webs. Check bin kab, he said to the passing waiter, noticing the flick of another large carp as it passed beneath their feet.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.abc.net.au/am/content/2010/s3078907.htm

PETER CAVE: In Victoria this morning Premier John Brumby is under pressure to concede defeat. The Victorian Electoral Commission is counting the hundreds of thousands of pre-poll votes which were cast ahead of Saturday's election but it appears that the Liberal-National Coalition may have already reached the crucial 45 seats needed to claim victory.

The Liberals are ahead in the seat of Bentleigh by a margin of about 423 votes.

Alison Caldwell reports.

ALISON CALDWELL: Some would say Labor in Victoria is in a state of complete denial. Others would say the party is just fighting to the end to defend what has been theirs for over a decade.

But late last night the Victorian Electoral Commission declared that on its provisional figures the Liberals have won the seat of Bentleigh in Melbourne's inner south-east. That would give the Coalition the 45 seats it needs to win government.

PETER RYAN: They have had a vote against them of proportions that this state has so seldom seen.

ALISON CALDWELL: For Nationals leader Peter Ryan it is just a matter of time before the Coalition forms government.

PETER RYAN: I believe that we will pick up the extra seat and I believe we will form government.

ALISON CALDWELL: The electoral commission will resume counting today in the seats of Eltham, Ballarat East and Macedon. Labor is pessimistic about Eltham. The other seats in doubt are Albert Park which was provisionally given to Labor on Saturday night, Narre Warren North and Monbulk.

Steve Tully is Victoria's electoral commissioner. He spoke to ABC News Breakfast this morning.

STEVE TULLY: Our major focus is on a recheck of all results that were taken in the voting centres on Saturday and continuing with the large task of moving ballot papers from around the state to where they need to be to be counted.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5hCmJGkU23bUki_4NgxNdkYBAUK5Q?docId=CNG.050a9c8c5fd91a430d7e435fcc325b90.f51

WASHINGTON — The WikiLeaks release of more than 250,000 diplomatic cables on Sunday has infuriated Washington, where officials said it could put lives in danger and threaten national security.
At least one US lawmaker called for the prosecution of the founder of the whistle-blower website, which had previously released nearly a half million classified military reports on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The White House called Sunday's release a "reckless and dangerous action" in a statement released after the first batch of cables was published by The New York Times and European newspapers.
"To be clear -- such disclosures put at risk our diplomats, intelligence professionals, and people around the world who come to the United States for assistance in promoting democracy and open government," White House press secretary Robert Gibbs said.
Democratic Senator John Kerry, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, called the release a "reckless action which jeopardizes lives" and rejected Assange's claims to be acting in the public interest.
"This is not an academic exercise about freedom of information and it is not akin to the release of the Pentagon Papers, which involved an analysis aimed at saving American lives and exposing government deception," he added, referring to a secret history of the Vietnam War leaked in 1971.
US Republican congressman Peter King, the ranking member of the House of Representatives' Homeland Security Committee, urged the attorney general to prosecute WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange for espionage.
The latest release "manifests Mr Assange's purposeful intent to damage not only our national interests in fighting the war on terror, but also undermines the very safety of coalition forces in Iraq and Afghanistan."
He went on to urge the State Department to designate WikiLeaks a "Foreign Terrorist Organization," saying it "posed a clear and present danger to the national security of the United States," in a statement from his office.
A Justice Department spokeswoman declined to comment on whether the United States was mulling criminal charges against Assange, saying only that it was assisting the Pentagon in its "ongoing investigation" into the disclosure.
The top Republican on the House Intelligence Committee said the release was "an embarrassment to the (Barack) Obama administration and represents a critical failure by the Pentagon and intelligence community."
Representative Pete Hoekstra called on the intelligence community to "move quickly to assess the failures in this case" and said Congress should also take up the matter.
The Pentagon, which also strongly condemned the release, said it had taken new steps to "prevent further compromise of sensitive data."
The steps were taken after Pentagon reviews launched in August that followed the disclosure of tens of thousands of US military intelligence files on the war in Afghanistan.
The measures included disabling all write-capability for flash drives or removable media on classified computers, restricting transfers of information from classified to unclassified systems and better monitoring of suspicious computer activity using similar tactics employed by credit card companies.

Simon Sharratt
Cloud Appreciation Society

Another Round Of The City The Girls The Delinquent Characters He Loved Them All

*

There was an infinity of loss, that was for sure, but equally in his startled and erratic psyche there were moments of peace, destiny, a profound surrender to these oh so short lives. You papa, you gaw, old man, many year, the boys would say, and he would laugh it off because what else could you do. Taking care of papa. There were many times when he could of, should have, sought something else. Timae? Why? Why you sad John I worry you, his old partner in crime would ask. And he would simply shrug. I want you happy. You happy me happy. They were both desolate and exhilarating times. He liked it most when the sky started to lighten and the never say die nocturnal animals would gather outside the karaoke bar. He was, as always in these situations, the only foreigner. They were kind to him. As Thais tended to be when they weren't tricking you out of money, or even when they were. As long as they got their share they were happy, and would protect you against yourself and the city's more ruthless denizens. The taxis lined up along the edge of the street outside the giant ramshackle brothels, the final customers spilling into the dawn, some of the men taking someone home with them. Little bit? the boy would say, and he would sigh in despair. He was too old for it all. He should have been home in bed tucked up with a nurse, or watching television, not inflicting his physical presence on this netherworld, night world he loved so much.

He watched the girls taking their final customers for the night. Some of them were drunk and not very attractive, pests really. He mostly ignored them if they tried to attract his attention, except to offer them some of whatever was on the table, whatever he had paid for this time. The cruelty of it was what got him, that these moments couldn't last for ever, these moments he alone was interested in, saw as the peak of the day, the week, his life. No one else did, as they amiably finished singing the final song of the night. And some of them would assure him the boy he was with was good. He like lady, whisky, mak mak, very much, they would tell him, as if he didn't know that already. Whisky and ladies were the test of a very fine fellow. Kow Jai mai kahb, do you understand? Not really. He had been cursed with an unusual temperament. It didn't really hold together in the light. It didn't match his body; now pohm poohey, plump, nor did it match his interior monologue, which was not about being old but wild, on the outer fringe of everything, stabbing into points of ecstasy, infinity, a profound love of urban landscapes, rotting, chaotic, crowded, the cute boys, well they were young men but everyone called them boys, milling outside the bar as the sun began to dapple the sky. They were up for anything. He knew exactly what they were like. They would spend most of the day asleep. They were always for sale. They were nearly always straight but could put on a show for money with few if any of the reservations common in the west. They were lazy and funny and thought everything was a great joke, especially each other, especially foreigners.

They made stupid comments about the departing girls. Most of them didn't have the 500 baht it would have taken to bed them briefly in the small, sweaty, smelly rooms upstairs. He paid the bill, as was his role. He watched his friend arguing with his girlfriend at a table outside. Timae, why? he heard him ask. She had come along to the karaoke bar at four a.m. with them and been sour the entire time they had been there. Perhaps she was shocked by the easy availability of the cheap girls; although why that should be a surprise in a city like Bangkok heaven only knows. And Thai men being the way they were, easy easy. The consternation, the regret that was in their faces as the final shards of night fled into the day! Everything had to end. They must known that. Small groups or couples wandered off into taxis. Some of the boys were having breakfast, or whatever it could be called, before wandering off home to sleep, to laze around in their flats and houses and get in the way of everybody else. Thai women all complained about how feckless, lazy and unfaithful their men were. Although even their harshest critics would often admit a sentence or two later that some of them were lough, handsome, a decorative addition to any home. He was back at meetings and even though in Bangkok they only lasted an hour they seemed to last forever; he couldn't stomach the bullshit. If you want what we have... The only people who do not get this simple program are those incapable of being honest with themselves. The worst piece of self serving logic. Sometimes he would just as rather have been outside those bars, watching the night turn into day and watching the final customers dissemble into the light, all pumped and happy with an adventure on every lip. Sandy had just got back from London and New York. You live the life, he commented. I do, she smiled. He climbed off his new bike. Doesn't the traffic worry you? she asked. It's alarming, he replied, completely alarming, adding, I miss Maria. She kind of adopted me after I called the meetings a cult. Now she was off in Rome, making a whole lot of noise in a whole different place. Yes, I miss her too, Sandy said, a wizened, wise and wealthy old thing. You going upstairs, she asked, gesturing at the Bangkok Christian Guest house. Yes, he said with what could not be called bracing enthusiasm; at the same time asking the passing parking attendant, tinae, where? See you up there, Sandy said, while the parking attendant gestured to a space behind the cars. He was the only one who knew those dawns, those karaoke places, the places where working class Thai men went to relax, drink, flirt, gossip, get their rocks off and "sing a song".

Upstairs in the Bangkok Christian Guest House he could barely sit still long enough, could barely wait for the hour to be over. One day everything he loved so much would last forever, all his peculiar yearnings frozen in an instant. One day time would stand still, for him, for everybody his strange desires were populated with, those people he embraced for friendship, companionship, love, sex, amusement, curiosity, to satisfy his peculiar eye for beauty amongst the dishevelled denizens as they departed into the dawn, into this most fascinating, most alluring of cities.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/pm-caves-on-broadband-details/story-fn59niix-1225960509953

JULIA Gillard has buckled to political pressure from independent senators to save Labor's proposed National Broadband Network.

The PM has abandoned her refusal to release the business case for the massive communications project.

After insisting last week that information in the business case was "commercial in confidence", the Prime Minister yesterday released a summary of the document to secure support from independent senators for a bill that would deliver structural separation of Telstra and pave the way for the NBN.

It was clear last night that senators Nick Xenophon and Steve Fielding would support the legislation, ensuring its passage when it is put to a vote today.

Senator Fielding says the NBN would transform the health and education sectors and could even lead to the establishment of a free online university.

"I strongly believe that technology, including telecommunications infrastructure, is a vital building block for any advanced economy that wants to remain competitive in a global market," he will tell the Senate today.

The breakthrough in winning over the independent senators came as Communications Minister Stephen Conroy last night revealed that the basic internet access package offered under the NBN would provide download speeds of 12mbps, which is already available through ADSL.

However, Senator Conroy refused to reveal the price of the basic package.

Buoyed by her success, Ms Gillard last night used an address to the Australian Chamber of Commerce and Industry to champion the NBN as a fundamental economic reform that would transform the nation's economy. With parliament due to rise for the year this afternoon, Ms Gillard has been racing to round up crossbench support for the Telstra legislation. She was aware that not securing its passage would be portrayed as a failure in her first major negotiation over legislation since she became Prime Minister in June.

Government sources said last night her about-face was evidence of the Prime Minister's deft negotiation skills.

Senator Xenophon, who extracted the concession, said he had forced the government to a compromise.

Opposition communications spokesman Malcolm Turnbull said the business case summary was inadequate, short on detail and little more than "a sop" to win the support of independents.

Communications Minister Stephen Conroy has struggled for weeks to win approval for the Telstra legislation.

He conceded last night that the bungled attempt to impose seven-year gag orders -- later revised to two weeks -- on MPs who were given access to the NBN business case was the brainchild of "some very eager officials in some of the departments".

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/world/pentagon-contradicts-obama-on-war-gains/story-e6frg6so-1225960415155

A PENTAGON report has warned that coalition forces are making little headway against the Taliban in Afghanistan.

Violence was at an all-time high as insurgents capitalised on NATO plans to hand over security to Afghan troops by 2014.

The Pentagon assessment, which talks of "uneven" progress in the war against the Afghan extremists, appears to contradict assurances by President Barack Obama last week that the insurgency was in decline.

Its release heaps further embarrassment on the White House a day after it was revealed the main Taliban protagonist in recent reconciliation talks with the Afghan government was not, as he claimed to be, the insurgents' No 2 commander, Mullah Akthar Muhammad Mansour, but a Pakistani shopkeeper from Quetta.

Initial reports suggested the man had been paid large sums of money and given safe passage by NATO forces to Kabul for the talks and was even granted a meeting with President Hamid Karzai - which the presidential palace denied yesterday. The Taliban yesterday gloated over the ruse, with spokesman Qari Yusuf Ahmadi telling reporters: "The Americans and their allies are very stupid and anyone could fool them."

The US commander in Afghanistan, General David Petraeus, denied the US had been duped. "There was scepticism about one of these all along and it may well be that scepticism was well-founded," he said, adding the revelations, reported in The New York Times, were no surprise to either US or Afghan intelligence agencies.

US and Afghan officials had previously stressed any discussions between Taliban commanders and Afghan officials were simply "talks about talks", designed to sound out trusted Taliban conduits.

Although the impostor's motives remain unclear, Afghan officials yesterday suggested he may have been sent by Pakistan's Inter-Services Intelligence spy agency to see what Afghans would offer.

The issue highlights the complexities involved in coalition efforts to exit Afghanistan through a negotiated settlement, just as the Pentagon assessment underscores the difficulties of fighting an enemy now preying on locals' fears of an imminent NATO withdrawal. The report, which assessed progress from April to September 30, found cause for optimism in coalition forces' ability to "localise" the insurgency in Kandahar and Helmand provinces, where the US military surge focused its efforts. But it was pessimistic about the prospects of a further Pakistani crackdown on militant sanctuaries within its territory, despite increased co-operation between the US and Pakistani military.

Leaders at last weekend's NATO summit agreed in principle to Mr Karzai's demands that security for the country be handed over to Afghan forces by late 2014 or 2015. But evidence of mass corruption in September's parliamentary elections - a year after Mr Karzai was re-elected in a poll widely condemned as rigged - has done little to boost confidence in the Afghan administration.

http://storage.koinup.com/090430x144905/144905-6.jpg

blog.koinup.com

Well...

*

Well the book was finished. Chaos At The Crossroads. He lost track of time. Had barely slept for ten days; or was it more. Two weeks? Twenty days? He couldn't remember now. He had spent twenty hours a day at the computer and it ultimately came in at 176,000 words, twice the length of the average novel. He first began it in 2004 and an early draft had been up on the web ever since. It was a time to finish things. To forget old obsessions. To move on. But this was beyond obsession, beyond hard work, in a different place, really. Rats scuttled through the grass. The boy stared at him bewildered. He would never be the same again. Not ever. You broke my frozen heart; that was more or less what he said. I know you like me. You old man. Papa. Sure. I like you. Always have, always will. This strange obsession with street boys as they climbed, climbed. She have power over you, he observed. After, after, hah bee, sip bee, five, ten years, she will be big, gangster. You, too, careful, careful,, mai koowey, no talk, never say anything to anybody, just progress, climb. You still very handsome, he said. It was true, unfortunately. He had sacrificed everything. Every element of common sense. Nothing changed. He had changed. It was all wrong. It was his fault. He understood that now.

There were days when he could hear the engines of every motor cycle as they passed the house along the narrow soi, or passed up along the even narrower alleyway beside the house. He could never identify which was which. He was waiting, haunted. You old man, I can do, sometimes, business. You good to me. Falang, foreigner, they like me. In the bar, many, many boy, working, no customer. Me, on the street, I have falang. Sure, sure. He took the news of competing interests in good cheer. He could see that there were many ways clear to a foreign future. That he had made serious mistakes. That if not unfaithful in body he was unfaithful in mind. That he treated the boy as if he was an impediment, which he was to a large degree. The house was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. But he was not happy. He couldn't indulge in his most demented fantasies. Pretty, sure, passionate, never. He could hear the contempt drifting down the line as he made up yet another excuse why he wasn't home. Moi, moi, he said dismissively. Whatever. He sat on the second floor of the Bangkok Christian Guest House and could see a million reasons why he shouldn't be there. The only people who don't get this simple program are those incapable of honesty, he heard for the hundred thousandth time, this self serving and ludicrous logic, if you don't agree with us you are dishonest, sure, whatever you say, and he listened to the Americans droning on. How on earth did they do it? He would never know.

The over-arching fly ways, the crumbling windows, the dirty curtains which had never looked out on any more than an indiscriminate industrial scene, the massive concrete station which had never been opened. He thought of trying to ask timmmae, why, what, as they whisked down the street past that strange empty billboarded concrete edifice which must have cost quite a considerable sum to have even got it that far, millions of baht, thousands of hours, the fallanxes of concrete, even the parking station with the sign: "Cars this way." He always passed that empty, unfinished station on the way to some pointless, obsessional, delinquent assignation. The girl friend was never far away; and even she had come to accept him as someone with problems but best of all, a foreigner always prepared to pay whatever price was demanded. He had no personal integrity or self worth left. Yet he had finished the book. Crazy as it was. Mad as it was. In the large font he had been working in, it came in at over 1,000 pages. Beautiful, he said of the finished project, as if any of the working boys he was talking to had the slightest idea of what he was talking about. Make money? That's what they were interested in. Well not entirely. There were various scandals. Him being one of them. But if in all those rivulets, all those strange corridors, all those uncompleted passageways and side pathways leading nowhere there had been at least some breath of humanity, something that could be passed on, he would have been happy. As it was, the chance of anyone relating to this distant state of mind was remote. Yes, I love her, the boy said. Yes, I can see, he said. She has power over you. What was money then, if it was not power? Come take me apart, corrupted heart. The lights of the fashionable restaurant reflected across the hovering staff, and for a moment, just a moment, he stared into those dark, tricky eyes. You understand me, the boy asked. Sure, he replied, sure.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://news.smh.com.au/breaking-news-national/turnbull-to-make-a-quid-out-of-nbn--swan-20101122-182ww.html

Opposition communications spokesman Malcolm Turnbull privately supports the National Broadband Network, federal Treasurer Wayne Swan says.

It has been revealed that Mr Turnbull owns $10 million worth of shares in technology company Melbourne IT, which stands to profit from the NBN.

Mr Swan said he didn't believe what Mr Turnbull was publicly saying about the NBN.

"Publicly Mr Turnbull says he wants to demolish the NBN and privately he wants to make a quid out of it," Mr Swan told Fairfax Radio Network on Monday.

"That just demonstrates the absolute hypocrisy of the Liberal Party when it comes to the NBN.

"Mr Turnbull is simply doing what Mr Abbott told him to do, which is demolish it, when he thinks privately it's a real goer."

Mr Swan also said it would be irresponsible to reveal the business plan for the network now.

"We've got some advice yet to come from the ACCC (Australian Competition and Consumer Commission) at the points of interconnection, that doesn't come until the end of the month," he said.

"When that's with us cabinet can take a decision on the business plan.

"But until we do that ... you simply cannot release it, it wouldn't be responsible."

http://news.theage.com.au/breaking-news-national/a-tilt-of-the-head-can-lure-a-mate-20101121-182en.html

Forget diamonds, fine dining and romantic walks in the sunset, all it takes to lure a mate is a tilt of the head, according to new research.

By simply tilting their face forward a woman's face can be judged to be more feminine and more attractive, whereas a man's face is considered more attractive when tilted backwards, this latest research has found.

Dr Darren Burke and Dr Danielle Sulikowski are the husband and wife team behind the research, which has been carried out at the University of Newcastle and Macquarie University.

While a lot is known already on the influence of feminine and masculine features on attractiveness, there is a gap in the evolutionary origin of what is considered masculine and feminine about facial features, according to Dr Burke.

"Our research investigated if looking at the face from different perspectives as a result of the height differential between men and women influenced perceived masculinity or femininity," he said.

"The research found the way we angle our faces affects our attractiveness to the opposite sex."

Typically taller than women, men view women's faces from above so a female face was deemed more attractive when tilted forward, simulating this perspective.

The opposite was then true for men whose faces were judged more masculine and attractive when tilted backwards as though they were viewed from below.

Dr Sulikowski said these findings offer some clues to help unravel "the mysteries of mateship rituals" in this century.

"The next step is to determine if people use this effect in real-world mate-attraction scenarios," she said.

The findings are published in the latest edition of Evolutionary Psychology.

survivalistboards.com

Try Again

*

Everything went every which way. Scattered origins, scattered futures, boys idling away the day in back sois. He would never be one of them; that he knew now. Although he still envied, sometimes, Baw's great ability to get lost in the karaoke bars of Bangkok, to get lost in the whisky and laughter and fine scale attempts to divide the heavenly divides. The policeman in the corner. The handsome, should that be pretty, girl in his lap. He had always been the only foreigner. Always. In these places no foreigner ever saw. And even now, when he sat amongst them and watched them touting for customers, it seemed that the French or the Europeans or whoever they were, ugly as sin to a man, never even acknowledged his presence as they were ushered inside. Often enough they would emerge shortly afterwards, underwhelmed or overwhelmed, it was difficult to tell, because they were suddenly the only customer in a bar of semi-naked, increasingly desperate boys. The nights wore on and customers were scarce.

So when he was overcharged for drinks, for their endless cokes and soda one night his reaction was immediate and angry. He wasn't an ordinary customer in any ordinary sense. He wasn't looking at the boys. He wasn't taking any of them home. He had been blind sided yet all these things were a terrible waste. Wasn't there a better life than sitting in a back street watching male prostitutes peddle their wares. He wasn't so sure. Even the strange light that played upon the buildings seemed immensely beautiful. Some where's, some why's. Some of the places in between. A broiling sky, a dark conscience, a soothing sanity. It had all been a terrible mistake. Once the darkness fell there was no way out. Once Christmas dawned he could only hope for compromise. Perhaps he really should be prepared to reach out, to stroke his hand along the fabric of things, to engage in the discourse, to surrender, confess, reveal. Not bloody likely, he thought. Not for you bunch.

In the land of endless compromise, in the land of hungry ghosts, all of it shed for weakness all of it shred for strength, he couldn't help but pine for something more profound. Sure he paid them. Looking for love in all the wrong places. But then he knew that already. He watched the trissy boy he didn't particularly like with his new customer. French. Old. Gaw mak mak as his own companion whispered to him. Very old. He knew the boy didn't like foreigners. They made him sick. He had told him once he was allergic to them, like allergic to a cat. If he stayed with them for more than three or four days he became ill. Yet there he was acting all friendly to the French man, boyfriend. The European seemed clearly besotted, massaging the neck of his victim with what appeared to be affection. He watched them as they disappeared down the soi. That was one thought that was not erotic. There was darkness in the buildings all around; all the office workers had gone home; and the only life was in the ground floor level bars, Nature Boys, Night Boys, the Golden Cock, the disco Hot Male Station slowly stirring into life as midnight approached. I want to go home, he declared loudly to the boy, demanding the keys. He had suddenly had enough of it all.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.smh.com.au/national/rudd-ruffles-feathers-to-be-in-clinton-limelight-20101109-17m2c.html

Kevin Rudd gatecrashed the special ABC television broadcast with Hillary Clinton on the weekend, demanding a place in the heavily promoted event to share the limelight with the US Secretary of State, an official said.

Mr Rudd's last-minute decision to attend the town hall-style meeting sent organisers at the ABC, the Foreign Affairs Department and US embassy into a spin - coming only hours before the event was due to be recorded.

Mr Rudd was not scheduled to be among the VIP guests at the recording, which included Australia's ambassador in Washington, Kim Beazley, the businessman Hugh Morgan, Melbourne University's vice-chancellor, Glyn Davis, and the US ambassador to Australia, Jeff Bleich.

Advertisement: Story continues below
But after a dinner with Mrs Clinton on Saturday night, Mr Rudd insisted he attend. An Australian official familiar with the event said Mr Rudd had stridently demanded plans be changed to include him. ''The behaviour was disgusting and he deserves to be called on it,'' the official told The Age.

There was confusion that Mr Rudd was actually asking to be seated on stage alongside Mrs Clinton and the ABC host, Leigh Sales, for the broadcast dubbed, Hillary Rodham Clinton: An Australian Conversation. This threatened to undo the careful planning for the recording, which involved some six camera positions spread among an audience of about 450 in a Melbourne University lecture theatre.

But Mr Rudd has denied he or his staff asked for a seat on stage. ''No, not at all. I didn't ask to go on the stage at all,'' he told The 7.30 Report on Monday.

''I said to Hillary, 'Oh, you're going to the university tomorrow? That's terrific. I know the vice-chancellor. I'd like to come along and have a look. That's terrific.'''

Mrs Clinton has made a habit of engaging in televised special conversations with younger audiences around the region, including in Cambodia and Indonesia.

She has never previously shared the stage with another foreign minister. Mr Rudd described as a ''bit of mischief'' suggestions he sought a place on stage.

He arrived early at the event and walked up and down the aisle, shaking hands with the audience. He then took a seat in the front row and later attended a morning tea hosted by Melbourne University Asialink following the recording.

After a hectic two days of meetings, where Mrs Clinton repeatedly praised him for his expert knowledge of foreign affairs, Mr Rudd has now fallen ill.

On medical advice, he has pulled out of attending a regional summit in Japan, with the Trade Minister, Craig Emerson, to represent Australia in his place.

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/rudd-waged-war-on-alp-howes/story-fn59niix-1225948549170

PAUL Howes has accused Kevin Rudd of being responsible for the damaging leaks against Labor during the federal election campaign.

He claimed the "vindictive" former prime minister waged a "dirty war" designed to wreck the ALP's bid for re-election.

Mr Howes also revealed how Mr Rudd privately briefed union leaders at Kirribilli House on Labor's planned mining tax several weeks before the government announced the plan in May this year, and prior to the mining industry being told.

In Confessions Of a Faceless Man, his inside account of the election campaign, Mr Howes wrote that he became so angry about Mr Rudd's alleged behaviour, he drafted a set of charges against the former prime minister to justify expelling him from the party. He never filed them.

By the second week of the campaign, Mr Howes wrote, he believed Mr Rudd was responsible for the leaks that were damaging Julia Gillard. "It seems that the same person who leaked last night's story to Laurie Oakes has now given similar quotes to Peter Hartcher at The Sydney Morning Herald. It firms up my suspicion that Rudd is waging a dirty war against the Labor Party."

Mr Howes, the national secretary of the Australian Workers' Union, who played a role in the Prime Minister toppling Mr Rudd in June, wrote how his mood of depression about the leaks "morphed into outright anger".

"I now believe that Rudd is doing everything he can to wreck the campaign," he wrote.

Mr Howes recounted a mid-campaign encounter with former Liberal Party Victorian president Michael Kroger, who told him: "You guys are gone, mate".

"His rationale is that the recent leaks are just a preview of what's to come," Mr Howes wrote.

"He is positive that Rudd is behind them and that, as an outsider without any loyalty to the party, Rudd will do all he can to destroy our chances at the election. I think he's right."

At this time, Mr Howes's depression had become "overwhelming". "I'm now certain that Labor has lost," he wrote.

"(Tony) Abbott will become prime minister not because of some major mood for change among the Australian people, nor some ambitious policy that has captured their imagination, but because of the vindictiveness of a former Labor prime minister who is determined to make sure that, if he can't be PM, then no one else on our side can be either.

"I throw myself into my work for a few hours, but then my mind turns to the election again and I draft a set of charges against Kevin to justify expelling him from the party. I'll never file them, but it makes me feel better."

Mr Howes said that Labor faced "electoral annihilation" under Mr Rudd, with an internal party poll taken four days before the leadership change on June 24 showing the ALP would have lost 23 seats, with another nine going either way.

A spokesman for Mr Rudd declined to comment yesterday on Mr Howes's claims, referring to the Foreign Minister's previous comments that while people were entitled to write books about the election, he would not participate.

http://lh4.ggpht.com

Tahm Peet

*

At lest he had learnt a new Thai word, Tahm Peet, mistake. Maybe that was something. Anything. Everything crashed. Fire streaks falling to the ground. The battle scarred regions. The place where we would never be the same again. Shadows were everywhere. He had repudiated the light; for no particular reason except it wasn't him. Perhaps he just wasn't designed for happiness. Stupid things to say. Everything came falling down. Those cheap hotels in decaying parts of Bangkok, my God they were sleazy. Short time. Short time indeed. Well that was the mood he woke up in. Nothing worked, nothing came. In a nice house with a nice boy; and all he could wonder... Johnny Cash droned in the background. Before my time... before my time. If there was any blessed way to escape. Any way to make any bigger mistakes. Any way to encompass change. Things which should have been so easy never were. A time which should of been of peace and joy, haunted by doubt. He could smell his own foreign smell on his shirt even after a few short hours. The Thais didn't seem to smell at all, and if they did he delighted in that sniff that passed as a kiss. Gary lay down on the cool tiled floor, causing great uncomfortability to the boy who had grown up trying to keep his head below every superior person. But there wasn't any way you could get below someone lying on the floor.

To be sure, there were other ways of doing things. He had experienced them in brief interludes for years now; the sunshine streaking through the window, making the laptop hard to see. The quiet peace that was their lot. The days that were both triumphant and decimated. The mistakes that crowded in. The bottle of duty free vodka his friend had left and which they put in the kitchen as if it was some sort of sauce. And which he kept staring at, wondering. Sometimes he would take the lid off and smell it, like petrol. The squirrels jumped from tree to tree. All around the working class suburbs stretched out into a foreign world. He could never make his way. There were other things that would answer through the ether. Brown sugar. The Happy Hippy. Hey mister, you want something. The Aqua Pan Club virtually next door. Massage boys. Promised delight. If only he could be contained in a simple physical body. Already time was mustered. Their random coughs. Their collapsing lungs. The way things were going to end. The recovery process. The partitioned fence. Tahm Peet, mistake, that's all it was. Everything.

He should have gone and lived in the hills. He should have gone and done the typical tourist thing and lived down on the islands. He could see everything come swirling down. He was mad, mad with it. The stupid regret. One day it wouldn't seem so bad, but that wasn't today. Right now he was full of regret and self recrimination. It wasn't very useful. Everyone made mistakes. Particularly here. They're masters, he had been warned, at getting your money out of your pocket; why, why had he paid no attention. It was a silly thing. The regret went on for days. Everything was wrong. At least the previous boy was going to the islands to see his family, and therefore wouldn't be calling him all the time. Suggesting one thing or another. It wasn't the new boy's fault. Boys do what boys do. He'd always liked it himself when some old queen bought him a car; and he flashed around Sydney in one of the smartest little sports cars of the era. It just seemed his destiny. He never thought it odd. It was his role, his place, his due. Of course. Let them pay a high price to touch him. It was only right. And then he'd jump in the sports car and drive a thousand kilometres a week because he could never sit still; up and down the coast, from friend to friend. Manipulative little thing, some suggested. So damn what. Bye bye. There was always another on the pile; fawning, desperate if not desperately sad. Let them pay. If they're that stupid that's their problem.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6A35MR20101104

(Reuters) - President Barack Obama seems to be in denial about the full meaning of congressional elections in which Republicans made big gains, Republican leader John Boehner said on Thursday.

Boehner is likely to become speaker of the House of Representatives after Republicans routed Democrats in Tuesday's elections and picked up at least 60 seats, the biggest shift in power in decades.

"There seems to be some denial on the part of the president and other Democratic leaders of the message that was sent by the American people," Boehner told ABC News.

"When you have the most historic election in over 60, 70 years, you would think the other party would understand that the American people have clearly repudiated the policies they've put forward in the last few years," he said.

Obama said on Wednesday that the election results were a reflection of frustration by Americans at the sour economy and an appeal for the two parties to work together.

Boehner appeared to take issue with Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell, who has said Republicans' top goal should be ensuring Obama is a one-term president.

"That's Senator McConnell's statement and his opinion," Boehner said. "I think the American people want us to focus on their message during the election: stop the spending, get rid of the uncertainty. Let's get around to creating jobs again and staying focused on what the American people want us to focus on is my number one priority."

ABC News anchor Diane Sawyer asked Boehner if he would agree to what Obama has jokingly called a "Slurpee summit."

A Slurpee is a flavored ice drink that Obama famously referred to on the campaign trail by saying Republicans were standing by idly sipping them while Democrats struggled to get the economy going.

"I don't know about a Slurpee. How about a glass of merlot?" Boehner replied.

http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Foreign-Policy/2010/1104/After-shellacking-can-foreign-policy-be-a-bright-spot-for-Obama

The midterm elections this week were far and away about domestic economic concerns, but President Obama is likely to feel the impact of Tuesday’s Republican tide on a number of foreign-policy issues, ranging from trade to Afghanistan.

On Asia trip, Obama to get an earful about China
Obama calls midterm elections a 'shellacking' for Democrats
But foreign policy may also present a wounded president with a silver lining, some presidential analysts say.

Mr. Obama is going to have to present the American people with a standout success as he makes a case for reelection in 2012, they argue – and his room to maneuver such a feather into his cap is going to be wider on the international than on the domestic front.

“Presidents always have more leeway in foreign policy than they do on the domestic agenda,” says Brent Scowcroft, who was national security adviser to the first President Bush and President Ford and who remains a leading expert on international affairs. “This president may find his opportunities largely in the field of foreign policy because of his difficulties with the new Congress.”

An Obama who could present the American electorate with a breakthrough deal with Iran, or better yet a done Middle East peace deal that guarantees both Israel’s peace and security and a viable Palestinian state, could restore his stature with the US public.

But in the short term, Obama’s foreign-policy agenda may present almost as many pitfalls and opportunities for setbacks as does the domestic front, some foreign-policy analysts contend.

Picture: Peter Newman.

He Woke Up

*

He woke up feeling like a shot of vodka and a cigarette, worried by the mere mortality of everything, and thought: you're just so crazy. The vodka was not a good idea on top of liver disease. The cigarette was not a good idea on top of emphysema. Why would he want to destroy what they had worked so hard to create? This perfect house, this perfect life. The handsome boy who took care of everything. The garden in the middle of Bangkok, so that he never wanted to go out. Suddenly, after being stupid enough to let the boy talk him into buying a car he did not need, he was desperately worried about money. His ideas of wafting away at the Happy Hippy when the money ran out seemed all the more immediate. Calcutta. The dead zone. Honestly John, some days I think a lot about taking myself out, Gary said after flying in from some disastrous situation in the Phillipines. Put it off till tomorrow, he advised airily, as in, I feel like a drink, put it off till tomorrow. Put off disaster for another 24 hours. It's just a daily program. Today is all we have. Blah blah blah.

Gary wrote:

"The black dog awaits my every move. It stands as a sentry of the devil in front of me. If I dare go left it goes to its right, to my right it goes to its left. It is uncompromising. It is there to wear me down, to see that my destruction comes to a completion at my own hands. It has fun in its abuse of my mental faculties.
It amuses itself by giving me nano-second glimpses of life being alright before it launches its assault on my self-esteem, my feelings of hoplessness of my future, helplessness to take action, thoughts of my body image, and finally urges to take the action to depart this world.
It further amuses itself by having the victim try to explain himself to some Asian half-wit who thinks I am down because my Thai gf (pro) dropped me, that your silly romance theory has norhing to do with this. It is impossible to explain the concept of the disease in this portion of the world. "Drink mango, you'll have your eyes white, teeth bright, and makes childbirthin' a pleasure. Plus it good for lines on face."
I will call you when my phone charges."

So he sat here watching the native squirrels do their little morning escapade along the electric wires. The birds twittering in the trees. The luxury, seemingly empty houses coming into view. He could never understand why he had gone so far down. Why the light was not more enticing. Why he found himself yet again the only foreigner in a cheap hotel in a decaying part of Bangkok tourists never saw; with cheap porn playing on the television. Short stay hotels. A buffalo woman trying to charge them extra because he was a foreigner. The boy wasn't having a bar of the buffalo, and went straight to the front desk. He alighted from the bike he had paid for and stood there impervious. Nothing was anybody's business. Everything was going crazy. So he came home soiled from unhappy sex in cheap hotels; back into the garden and the fully equipped house and the handsome, considerate boy and thought: why risk everything? Why bother with the dark adventures of the dark lords? Surely you're too old now? His defences were down. He let the boy talk him into buying a car he did not need for twice what he had been prepared to spend; and thought, why, why. Perhaps it was guilt. Only he suffered when his money ran out. Everyone else in this seething city moved on to another warm body. Time was never going to stand this still. But it had. And now he wanted safety. Reform. Another heart.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/politics/nation/Credible-terrorist-threat-against-our-country-Obama/articleshow/6839360.cms

WASHINGTON: US President Barack Obama has said there is "credible terrorist threat" against America after two suspicious packages, containing explosives material, were found in cargo jets originating in Yemen with two Jewish centers in Chicago-area being their destinations.

There has been a "credible terrorist threat against our country" Obama told reporters at a hurriedly convened White House press conference after he was briefed by his top intelligence officials and national security aid on the latest terrorist threat to the US.

Obama was first informed about it at about 10-35 pm on Thursday and has been updated on the developing plot throughout.

The Administration will not spare any efforts in investigating the origins of the suspicious package, he said.

Obama said agencies have "identified two suspicious packages bound for the United States, specifically, two places of Jewish worship in Chicago."

The packages were identified in Dubai and Britain, he said.

"Initial examination of those packages has determined that they do apparently contain explosive material," he said.

In his statement, Obama vows to take "whatever steps are necessary to protect our citizens of this type of attack," and he announces that there will be "additional screening" of some planes in Newark and Philadelphia.

More "protective measures" will be taken for "as long as it takes," he said.

http://www2.godanriver.com/news/2010/oct/29/3/perriello-obama-must-renew-past-virginia-magic-ar-616891/

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. (AP) - On a cold, clear late October evening, an excited, standing-room crowd waited for hours in a downtown outdoor amphitheater waiting for a glimpse of Barack Obama.

That was exactly three years ago, when the Illinois senator was a long shot for the Democratic presidential nomination and a deeply unpopular Republican was in the White House.

On Friday night, President Obama returned to the same venue to campaign for Rep. Tom Perriello, an endangered freshman Democrat running in a moderate-to-conservative rural district with their party now unpopular.

It's the first trip Obama has made in the 2010 midterm elections for a House candidate, and a gamble that the president's visit will motivate more uncertain voters to support Perriello on Tuesday than those who favor Hurt.

In 2008, Perriello edged deeply wounded Republican Rep. Virgil Goode by 727 votes out of more than 300,000 cast in the Democratic sweep of Virginia that Obama led. Now, polls show Republican Robert Hurt slightly ahead. But both campaigns concede that the race has tightened in the past few weeks.

Joan Wicks of Charlottesville was among several thousand people who waited for hours to see Obama at the Charlottesville Pavilion, just as she had to three years ago when another overflow crowd included children costumed for Halloween trick-or-treating.

"Oh, there's no shortage of enthusiasm here. There's as much as there was that night. Really, I think there's more," said Wicks, who canvassed door-to-door for Obama's campaign in 2008 and did the same for Perriello this fall.

What Obama must do for Perriello, Wicks said, is persuade the thousands of young, new voters he energized two years ago that the reforms they wanted will be reversed unless they show up at the polls for Perriello next week.

Greg Varney of Charlottesville was also in the pavilion three years ago when Obama spoke. The Navy veteran said that even with Obama at his side, Perriello has a tough task persuading an impatient and frustrated public that the Democrats policy priorities can still rescue a floundering economy.

"The general public is buying the political rhetoric," Varney said. "People have been led to think that you can turn things around instantly. You can't turn it around in a year, or even a couple of years."

Home

*

The red lights on the sky scraper behind them blinked in the early morning dark, a warning sentinel soaring over their house. Strange statue shapes on the corner of its upper tiers gave it a certain Gothic feel, while he could feel every shadow in the streets around, hear every moto-cie as they puttered off to work. There were haunted lovers too, in all those sounds, sheets through the glass, muffled shapes, dignity abandoned. That house could have been mine, if only I hadn't made a mistake. Many mistakes. Pass away, pass away. Unrequited, these things were for another era, or from another era. Harden your heart. What would you tell your best friend to do? Stay away, stay away. And so, little evil on the blessed land, he became someone else in order to survive. He was attracted to chameleons, people who were different every time you looked at them, a princess one minute, a butch little lad the next, masculine, dripping compromise, all bowed under layers of conformity. He had taken to using an old Peter trick when dealing with recalcitrant bureaucracies: just start ranting, I've worked hard all my life and nobody... Etc etc etc. Drives them mad.

Just like winging to the old ex when she came sniffing around for money. A winging drone can drive just about anybody away, and so became an effective weapon in the armoury of survival. The blokes seem to pick up the nicest girls at Electric Blue, he advised, although what would he really know, girls not being his forte right this minute. But he could see, as he descended into the morass of another culture, the descending wave of a western hand. I can feel you are awake through the ether; and the vibration on his mobile phone confirmed his psychic recognition. Heading to the streets. They used to always say: "It's down, down, down as Jack from the Cross used to say". Jack was dead now and every day rolled over anew; the world blessed with a rising sun and a million deaths, a corporate body constantly renewed. His own visit was short; glorious at times, despairing at others. There had been too many mistakes. His health suffered. Instead of rising to the occasion he fell to earth. The mud was like glue.

And then once again survival forced him to perform. He rose to every occasion and twisted in the air like a dervish. Constant waits were nothing compared to fatal obsessions. What would you tell your best friend to do, that's great advice, I've been thinking about it all day, Shaun said. An old sponsor used to tell me that, he replied, at least I think it was him, someone. Let's meet up in Italy, go shopping, have lunch, said a loud American woman. They went everywhere and saw nothing. He marvelled at the way they treated the world as a homogeneous unit, as an occasionally exotic background for lunch. Complaining if everything wasn't exactly the way they liked it. The water cold, condensation dripping down the side. Everything was wide off the mark. He had been missing so badly. Lured into circumstance. Lured into paradise. A nice house. A nice boy. A nice garden. And yet if he still had the physical stamina to be stumbling out of the clubs at dawn with some wretched little thief he would have probably opted for the latter. I just like getting trashed, he whined, what's wrong with that? Well nothing much except it's unsustainable. Greed is good, the woman seemed to be saying, telling us all she was alert, wide awake, conscious, on the edge of her seat. All you blokes, you need to share your thoughts with woman. They can help you. And later Andrew laughed: she's preaching to the wrong set of blokes. They're all survivors of divorce here. And he agreed: we've all survived some of the most toxic hurricanes the female gender can produce. We don't trust them. Full stop. A little misogyny is natural, at least amongst this group, Andrew said.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.smh.com.au/world/obama-takes-his-daily-dose-to-defend-his-presidency-20101028-175sl.html?from=smh_sb

WASHINGTON: Barack Obama has defended his first two years in office, targeting young voters during an interview on a popular satirical TV talk show, urging them to keep faith with his legislative program.

Less than a week before Tuesday's midterm congressional elections in which Democrats are expected to be punished for America's tepid economic recovery and high unemployment, Mr Obama ticked off key achievements, namely that his administration had staved off a second Great Depression while posting historic healthcare and financial regulatory reform.

But the President told The Daily Show host, Jon Stewart, that it would take time to fulfil all of the pledges made during his 2008 presidential campaign.

''When we promised during the campaign 'change you can believe in', it wasn't 'change you can believe in, in 18 months','' he said. ''It was change you can believe in but, you know what, we're going to have to work for it.''

When Stewart pressed, asking whether the rhetoric of Mr Obama's election pitch had over-inflated expectations of an audacious legislative program, (''You wouldn't say you'd run this time as a pragmatist? It wouldn't be, 'Yes we can, given certain conditions?'''), the President conceded he would be inclined now to modify his mantra with a qualification: ''Yes, we can: but it's not going to happen overnight''.

It was the first time a sitting president has appeared on the show in which Stewart, a former stand-up comedian whose zany take on current affairs has drawn a cult following, often skewers guests by exposing hypocrisy.

Stewart will lead a ''Rally to restore sanity'' tomorrow in the National Mall in Washington as an antidote to the rallies over the northern summer that drew thousands of Tea Party and other conservative supporters.

The Obama interview ran for almost 30 minutes. But apart from occasional banter, Mr Obama remained serious, determined to push the Democratic cause, while taking issue with Stewart's characterisation of some of his legislation as ''timid''.

Clearly rankled, Mr Obama responded: ''Jon, I love your show, but this is something where I have a profound disagreement with you … this notion that healthcare was timid.''

Mr Obama added that ''the assumption is we didn't get 100 per cent of what we wanted, we only get 90 per cent … so let's focus on the 10 per cent we didn't get''.

On the economy, Mr Obama said: ''If you told me two years ago that we're going to be able to stabilise the system, stabilise the stock market, stabilise the economy and, by the way, at the end of this thing it will cost less than 1 per cent of GDP … I'd say: 'We'll take that'.''

But he dodged Stewart's next question about whether he would accept that same outcome had he known that unemployment would be near 10 per cent.

At another point, Mr Obama acknowledged voters' frustration and impatience. ''Over and over again we have moved forward an agenda that is making a difference in people's lives each and every day,'' he said. ''Now, is it enough? No. I expect, and I think, most Democrats out there expect that people want to see more progress.''

http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=11997550

NEW YORK (Reuters) - President Barack Obama's election led many political pundits to predict the popularity of American satirist Jon Stewart would wane. After all, mocking Republicans was his bread and butter.

But two years later with the nation just days away from an election expected to shift the balance of power in Washington, Stewart and his Comedy Central stable mate Stephen Colbert are growing ever more successful.

On Saturday, the pair mount their most audacious stunt -- rallies on Washington's National Mall. Stewart's is a "Rally to Restore Sanity," while Colbert, whose show mocks conservative punditry, holds a rival "March to Keep Fear Alive."

Organizers haven't disclosed what exactly the rallies will be, but they will no doubt build on Stewart's huge following for "The Daily Show," which typically features the comedian commenting on the day's news in a faux anchor format and conducting interviews with top newsmakers.

"We all thought he would have less fun after (President George W.) Bush left office but that's not been the case," said Michael Musto, a culture writer at New York's Village Voice.


"There are still plenty of Republicans to poke fun at, and Obama's ratings are so low that he can now poke fun at Obama and the Democrats too," said Musto. "It's twice as much fun."

Experts say the explosion of Internet news, opinion and blogs and the 24-hour cable television news cycle have created a cacophony of shouting pundits. That, they say, allows Stewart to poke fun at overheated rhetoric on both sides.

Media and Society Professor Richard Wald of New York's Columbia University said Stewart is evocative of Will Rogers, known for such cutting satire as: "I belong to no organized party. I am a Democrat."

Picture: Ashley Lock.

A Neutron Bomb

*

They say that home is where the heart is. Having no heart, just a sad little collection of collapsing landscapes which passed for a splintered consciousness, the saying had never meant much to him. Oh to be normal. To have a craven heart. But thus it was that he found himself wandering the streets of Sydney after having been away all year, shocked and appalled, well shocked and astounded anyway, at how quiet the streets, how quaint the signage. Ten thirty at night and already the streets were deserted. No wonder I was so lonely here, he thought, and that, briefly, was all he could remember, the long spooky walks at 2am, with the mist dripping from the trees amidst signs of collapse, the well walked dog scurrying ahead, the pain of a restless spirit. Always, always, walking far and wide. There was never anybody there. He sat in alcoves in the cliffs, gentle overhangs, on tops of buildings, in deserted early morning parks, in the way of the truth and the light, holding to some stubborn, perhaps noble principle, aching, disconsolate, always the same.

So he abandoned the job which had become such an over-arching nightmare and headed off to Thailand, where juvenile dreams on the Coca Cola trail had left him with the impression that he could be happy there, he didn't know quite how or why, under a palm tree, on a beach, in a cheap house in the mountains with sweeping views down the valley. It wasn't what happened at all. Instead he discovered that Western men with a couple of bob in their pockets didn't have to sleep alone; and so he determined that was exactly the circumstance. And instead settled in a peaceful, read beautiful, house in the heart of Bangkok. Where everything slid and collapsed and he was the feudal lord, accepting of his status. Lights burnt through the long warm nights. In the early hours he could hear every movement of a motor cycle, their gurgling cries, their strange emphases, as if heading your way, a lost obsessional love who could tell you, too, were awake and sleepless, pomh kow choi passah thai nick noi karb, I understand a little Thai thank you, and knew, deeply, lohp luen, that he had been deceived, was being deceived, and some criminals could never change their spots, never not rip off a foreigner, never act with any degree of kindness or integrity.

And so it was that in the aching hearts, in the strange things that had happened to him, he developed a certain survival wisdom. Strange then that he would have made such a simple mistake as to take a Thai national to Australia. They don't travel well, he had already heard, but he had no idea how badly. If a plane flew overhead the boy would look up plaintively and bleat: Thailand. Once he had discovered a Thai restaurant with authentic cuisine and staff who spoke Thai he refused to go anywhere else. He looked at Bondi Beach, one of the world's most famous and most beautiful beaches, and sighed: falang mak mak - lots of foreigners. As if it had never occurred to him that there might be lots of foreigners overseas. If he wasn't on Skype talking to friends back in Thailand or headphones on listening to Thai music he was under a doona pretending to be asleep, shutting out the outside world, so full of foreigners and incomprehensible social behaviours. Nor was the reaction from others very helpful. Dad, you gay, the kids said. Number one daughter declared, all in one sentence: he's obviously a gold digger dad, I need $500 for my formal dress. Number one son, quite the ladies man by his own reports, officially declared he was now disowning both his parents. His mother declared that by wilfully defying God's word and living such a dubiuous lifestyle he was throwing away his greatest asset, his access to the keys to the Kingdom of God by duty of being her son, a loyal servant and one of the Lord's chosen ones. They would all much have preferred he continued to sleep alone. Well, he wasn't going to do that, not for now, that was for sure. And Peter put it succinctly enough: that's why we all build lives far from our families.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/renegade-premiers-workplace-deal-angers-pm-20101014-16lwf.html

JULIA GILLARD has threatened to use federal powers to force NSW to comply with uniform national workplace safety rules after the Premier reneged on a deal as part of a raft of concessions to the union movement.

Business, industry and the federal government were united in anger yesterday after Kristina Keneally said NSW would not honour the deal it signed with other states and the Commonwealth last year to introduce uniform occupational health and safety laws.

The agreement, which required significant concessions by business and unions, was cited by Ms Gillard as one of her greatest achievements as workplace relations minister.

Advertisement: Story continues below ''A deal is a deal and the federal government requires this deal to be honoured,'' Ms Gillard said.

She said nothing was being ruled out as she sought departmental advice ''on what options are available to the federal government to ensure that the NSW government honours this deal''.

Ms Keneally, who is seeking union support before the March 26 election, will not honour the national agreement unless union-friendly provisions that were part of NSW law are included. These allow unions to prosecute for workplace safety breaches and put the onus of proof on the defendant.

Ms Keneally also demanded an exemption from the federal Fair Work Act so her government can cut a separate ''project agreement'' with unions to guarantee the $6 billion Barangaroo redevelopment will be completed on time and on budget. She also declared Easter Sunday a public holiday to ensure workers are paid more on that day.

The Unions NSW secretary, Mark Lennon, said yesterday was ''a sweet day'' for workers, and was backed by the ACTU, which claimed the changes would maximise workplace safety.

http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/40128.html

What a week this has been. A week of high emotion and smouldering passions, where the glorious triumph of the human spirit was tempered by the depths of human depravity, and we all longed for a return to the days when politics was marked by dignity, respect, and non-bastardry.

The name of the game this week, of course, was Afghanistan, or at least that’s what Julia Gillard would say, as she has demonstrated clearly that she regards the actions of our brave fighting men and woman defending our freedom as a game, to be played for political points.

It was an unedifying way to behave in a week when Abbott, putting his graceless rival to shame, did in fact go to Afghanistan, to reassure the troops that not only did he fully support them, he was quite willing to join them personally.

“Bitch says I don’t like the troops?” he snarled. “I’ll show you how much I like the troops! Give me a gun! Give me a tank! Let’s go get those terroristers! Bang bang bang! Check out my pecs! Look how much I can bench-press! I will fight the prime minister ANY TIME SHE WANTS! BRING IT ON” And so forth.

Having gone to the theatre of war, Abbott was at great pains to emphasise this tendency of the PM to use defence policy as a political weapon, before going on to emphasise it a bit more, and then proceeding to hammer home his emphasis in case we hadn’t got it yet.

Some might have questioned why, after last week’s gaffe in which he claimed he couldn’t visit the troops because he wouldn’t have time to put his face on for dinner with the Tories, Abbott insisted on continuously drawing more and more attention to it by bringing it up at every possible opportunity for days on end like some kind of gibbering excuse-chimp. This however would betray a total misunderstanding of the reality of politics, as Abbott himself explained, telling us all that:

“One of the things that so disappoints me about the election result is that I am the standard bearer for values and ideals which matter and which are important and … as the leader of the Coalition, millions and millions of people invest their hopes in me and it's very important that I don't let them down. When I am unfairly attacked, I've got to respond and I've got to respond in a tough way.”

And the Australian people, once they had got up off the floor, wiped the tears from their eyes and taken a few deep breaths to overcome the crippling stomach pains that are such a common consequence of hearing Tony Abbott describe himself as a standard-bearer for values and ideals, nodded in understanding.

Indeed, we do not want Tony to let us down, and that is why, whenever anyone is cruel or nasty to him, we see the necessity for lengthy, protracted, hyperbolic defensiveness. It’s what we all want in a potential prime minister.

What we don’t want in a prime minister is Machiavellian bastardry, which is, as Abbott helpfully explained, what Gillard was guilty of, and Labor is expert in. The plot hatched by the prime minister was deceptively simple, but fiendish in its ingenuity: laying a trap as skilfully as any French-Canadian furrier, she cunningly invited the Opposition Leader to accompany her to Afghanistan, and sat back to watch the carnage she had wrought.

It was such a callous, vicious piece of passive-aggressive thuggery it took the breath away. To be so calculating as to actually invite an Opposition Leader to a war zone, knowing full well that due to security requirements Abbott would have no choice but to say something unbelievably idiotic, was a ploy worthy of Lucretia Borgia herself.

No wonder it drew such a sharp rebuke from the Shadow Minister for Taking One To Know One, Christopher Pyne, who – lip trembling at the injustice of it all – pointed out that Gillard was guilty of “back-alley bitchiness”, almost certainly accompanying his statement with a clawing hand gesture and soft hiss. Pyne declared that Gillard was unfit to be prime minister, a stinging blow to the PM: if even the Opposition doesn’t want her in office, what must the voters think? Especially after she flagrantly and shamelessly declined to offer any further comment on the matter in a deliberate and transparent attempt to further smear Abbott’s character by making him look like he was talking to himself.

http://www.coreideas.com.au/wp-content/bondi-beach-dust-storm.jpg