Fate Had Already Sealed The Windows And Locked The Doors

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There was a certain liquid feel to it, as if fate had already sealed the windows and locked the doors. The hauntings of infinite resource, always on the border, always just out of reach. But at the same time moments of hilarity. The funky smell of unwashed boys. The drawling "deeaaar" of the hyper-camp Jack, the retiring lawyer from Washington who would quibble over every little point and tell anybody what they thought of him; or denounce anything he didn't approve of. Complaining that Andrew, who was showing him around apartments, hadn't contributed to the taxi fare, all of about four dollars between two separate incidents, despite his having surrendered hours of his day. Well you two guys are a lot of fun, Andrew said, as they left, thanking them for the afternoon. All was washed away. All was free to be overblown, overgrown. Well, dear. He made as if to assuage a great guilt; and caught another promise like a catcher in a cricket game, out of the air, out of the sky, thunderous applause from the assembled ghosts. All the pasts had come to haunt, but not just the pasts, the crowds that populated the stands had not lived in this century, had not lived for a very long time, and their ghostly clapping chilled him as he waded through the disintegrating matter that had once been the streets. 45 days and climbing, he thought. Getting increasingly organised. Oh please, please, replace my heart with a practical machine; the windswept emotional life of a gargoyle; frozen, while he chatted vacuously on Face-book and welcomed anyone he came across into his life, into his smart apartment and briefly luxurious life.

Andrew, one of the few people he had chosen to like at the Saint Louis Hospital meetings in Bangkok, showed them an entire range of apartments, after they had trundled down the street opposite the hospital to an Indian restaurant Jack particularly liked. Vegetarian. They sat and talked; although as usual he said little. But Jack and Andrew swapped notes about Rome, about apartments, about people they knew from the so-called fellowship, about the astonishing state of real estate, ask your own price, make it up, in particular parts of Rome where only a few of the oldest families, or entrepreneurial taxi drivers from New York in the 1950s, had had the foresight to buy apartments. The day slipped away, as did the opportunity for nefarious adventures. He was shadowed, indeed haunted, and yet his head snapped away as if he was in the ceiling watching the pair of them talk about various characters even they themselves had largely forgotten. Their voices were large, loud, in the tiny restaurant; the food Indian; odd, in a sense, after having lived with the Thais, who very much didn't like Indians and made no pretence about it, for so long. They were the most overtly racist people he had ever met. Falang, falang, they would chant at the sight of a foreign tourist; as if such a sight was indeed astonishing, these visitors from Mars, these infinitely peculiar things. In the West racism had been a crime of conscience for decades now; here no one even bothered to think about it.

He had been shadowed, he had made way for the mark, he stepped out of the fire ring into the cool of the surrounding forest, he knew the eyes of the wolves were on him and he knew the dark was full of danger. Perhaps it was why he chose the heart of a modern metropolis to live out his days, infinitely expensive, the skyscrapers often comfort, a human scale in an inhuman place, everything reversed. His back garden was a pool on a roof, surrounded by construction and sweeping tall buildings, and he loved them and he loved the light and felt safe, as the security cameras monitored everything, including his every move. They had wanted to know where he went at 5am, in the days before he had got sick and the spirits had cast him out; to survive here in a kind of suspended luxury, patiently, ill at ease, undiagnosed, unassisted. Knowing that everything was fleeting. Who's Bambi, his daughter had asked on Skype, catching sight of Aek in the background. He looks about 12. How old is he? 22 he replied. Dad, that's not much older than us. She laughed, she always liked a bit of good gossip. What's Bambi's name, she asked, and he told her. Well that's another reason I'm not coming to Bangkok, she pouted. I can hitch you up with some rich Thai boys, he said. I don't want an Asian boyfriend dad, she declared. Swivel the computer round, I want to see him, she said. He didn't oblige. Alright, introduce me. Finally he did. In a strange way she seemed comforted by the fact that things now made sense; kind of. But they kept calling him Bambi anyway. Maybe Bambi would like to come out to Sydney for a while? Maybe, he replied. Maybe. And maybe I'll take him down to Tasmania, where Steve is living with his appalling boyfriend and five cats in a large house atop a cliff. Anything could happen.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/abbott-not-unelectable/story-fn59niix-1225900814866

Paul Kelly

THE most pervasive and perhaps fatal perception in this election is that Tony Abbott is unelectable.

This entrenched idea is killing the Labor campaign; yet Labor has cultivated the notion and it has been an article of faith among progressive political and media elites in Australia for years.

This week's Newspoll testifies to the sheer dogmatism of this belief. Taken last week, the poll showed a 50-50 split (with the preference allocation pointing to an Abbott win) yet Labor voters are sure Abbott is unelectable. Among ALP voters 77 per cent think Julia Gillard will win and only 5 per cent think Abbott will win. In short, Labor voters think the election is a no contest. Somehow, some way, they are convinced Abbott has no hope when the exact same poll shows him winning!

By contrast Coalition voters are more realistic, being split 42-38 per cent in predicting an Abbott victory. And the nation overall is confident that Gillard will win 56-23 per cent.

This testifies to the Abbott phenomenon. He has got under Labor's radar and he keeps doing it. There is only one conclusion: Abbott is repeatedly under-estimated by his opponents.

On last weekend's two main polls, A C Nielsen and Newspoll, Abbott is heading Labor. Gillard has no illusions about the seriousness of the threat. Her correct diagnosis is that Abbott is getting away with a "protest vote" strategy and is not being assessed by voters as an alternative prime minister. Labor is now desperate to puncture the public complacency and disengagement that it believes assists Abbott.

Underestimating Abbott has deep roots in both the Labor and Liberal parties. It is a function of the hostility towards conservatism and Abbott's disarming unpretentiousness, his habit of parading his flaws along with his strengths, an unusual trait for an aspiring PM. Recall the universal sentiment when Abbott won by just one vote in the partyroom over Malcolm Turnbull and Joe Hockey last December. It was a surprise result. The Rudd government was delighted because, yes you've guessed, it knew Abbott was unelectable. Even the Liberals were worried.

At that time the Coalition was ready to declare Abbott a hero if he could reduce its margin of defeat to that of Kevin Rudd's 2007 victory. They would settle for a respectable loss. Nobody saw a Coalition victory as obtainable.

Above all, Abbott was assumed by the pro-Labor progressive culture to have far too much baggage. Even more than John Howard he divides the nation between its cultural opinion-making elites and its mainstream tradition of voting conservatism.

For years, Abbott has been mocked and demonised as a far Right, anti-woman, Catholic zealot, climate-change sceptic and political thug too reactionary for the Australian people. This narrative was supposed to prove, beyond doubt, his unelectability. This branding did Abbott much damage but it had a dividend; it stamped him as a conservative with convictions. In short, as a values politician. Many mainstream voters who elected Howard four times were drawn to Abbott as a values politician.

http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/Insurgents-Attack-Southern-Afghanistan-Military-Base-99824299.html

Taliban Attack Main US Base in Southern Afghanistan
VOA News 03 August 2010

Afghan officials say Taliban militants on Tuesday attacked the main U.S. military base in southern Afghanistan.

Officials say the attackers, wearing suicide vests, first launched rockets on the Kandahar airfield and then tried to storm the base. The assault sparked an hour-long gunbattle, in which one international soldier was wounded and all of the attackers were killed.

Taliban insurgents previously tried to storm the Kandahar base in May.

Also Tuesday, NATO said one of its service members was killed in an insurgent attack in eastern Afghanistan.

Elsewhere, Afghan police said robbers killed six security guards at a branch of the Kabul Bank in the northern province of Balkh.

The robbery took place in the provincial capital, Mazar-i-Sharif, and the robbers got away with at least $275,000.

In other violence Tuesday, NATO said foreign and Afghan forces destroyed a house rigged with wire links to homemade explosives in Kandahar.

And, a NATO statement said international and Afghan forces seized the last Taliban stronghold of Sayedebad in southern Afghanistan.

Picture: Peter Newman.