Monday, June 27

Because I'm working at the election next weekend, I've signed an agreement that I will not comment on the workings of the AEC or Australian politics in general.  It's not easy being neutralised but I'll have to wear it for another 6 days at least.  If  I want to keep my blog ticking over, I'll have to find something else to talk about.  Brexit!

What were they thinking about?  It seems it is the result of a bunch of older poms yearning for the old days of 'Great' Britain and worrying about the increasing immigration from Eastern Europe.  Fair enough, but the days when half the world was coloured pink have gone and younger people don't seem to have the same concerns about immigration as their grandparents and they're the ones who have to live with this decision.

It's interesting that the only world leaders who applaud this decision are Marine le Pen, the French National Front leader, Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump.  Wouldn't their approval make you think you had backed the wrong horse?

So what happens next?  Will Scotland 'veto' the decision as it seems they can, or will it pull out of the Union?  Will Northern Ireland decide the experiment of becoming part of the UK was not worth it and seek reunion with the Republic of Ireland?  Will Bozo Boris become PM?

I think the UK has been suffering from 'relevance deprivation syndrome' since the Second World War and is now thrashing about seeking the importance it once held in world affairs.  It has struggled with the need to accommodate the ideas and points of view of its partners in Europe, many of whom were its enemies in living memory and, like all one-time bullies, it doesn't like being told what to do.  This choice to leave the EU smacks of cutting off one's nose to spite one's face.

Thursday, June 23

There's a tired old joke which members of the Lions Club delight in re-telling to Rotarians whenever the opportunity arises. It goes something like this:

A middle-aged woman is watching David Attenbrough on TV. She turns to her husband and says, "This program says that lions can have sex up to 10 times a day. Now I know why you joined Rotary."

in response, the president of our Rotary Club has written the following poem.

LIONS Lions, so it is said Are quite the performer when they are in bed
Having it off up to ten times a day With time left over to go hunt for prey.
As humble Rotarians we can’t rise to meet
The awesome challenge of this feline feat. But in spite of their gloating , It may be worth noting Their victorious roaring and post-coital snoring
At the end of the day is really quite boring. Not to mention their breath, not unlike manure
That long suffering partners must daily endure.
And then there are claws, that scar you for life Ooh, Who wouldn’t rather be - a Rotarian’s wife.
Rob van der Elst June 2016

Saturday, June 18

I've been reading a book by Bob Ellis and it's a mixture of breathtaking prose, contrived verse and a generous dollop of the type of stirring against the establishment which has made his reputation. There were pages of anecdotes about people I've never heard of and never want to meet as well, so I won't reach the last page.

However, one little rant amused me. In talking about our glorious national anthem, he is not very complimentary calling the tune as banal as Happy Birthday.

Our national anthem, he says ..... 'makes us feel, however slightly, like dickheads. Though 'I Am, You Are, We Are Australians' brings us to tears of pride, especially when sung by children, 'Advance Australia Fair' makes us cringe. And when we stand up for it, we are usually, inwardly, lying.
Every one of the first six lines rings false. We are not young. We are not free. Our soil is not golden. Wealth does not come from toil here, but from birth or short-selling or real estate. And though we are 'girt by sea' so are all islands, and we are an island, and this is scarcely worth noting. And our land does not 'abound with precious gifts', it is two-thirds desert. Unless you count uranium I suppose, and the immensity of coal that is currently choking the planet, it does not abound, it is a desert waste.'

He goes on to recommend a change, maybe not in time for the Rio Olympics, but certainly sooner rather than later.

Sunday, June 12

Thinking back on Scott Ludlam's speech which I commented on yesterday, I realise that I picked a quote which had several levels of meaning.  On the surface, it is a dig at Tony Abbott and, as it happens, oddly prescient.  However, that's not what I saw when I first read it, and it's not the reason I reproduced it. 

In fact, it nicely sums up something which has been lurking in the back of my brain for ages, and becoming more insistent as I get older.  In a nutshell, the things that we think important today won't even be remembered tomorrow.  To take it a step further, I'm starting to believe that today's society is obsessed with wanting everything now to be just right.  Who says c'est la vie any more?   We spend a big part of our lives trying to change our world to better suit what we believe is better.  Part of that is that when we are faced with a perceived problem, we want to sort it out immediately.  Two issues:  a particular situation may only be problem from our point of view, and, whether we're right  or wrong, we're too quick to intervene.  I wonder, for example, if the world would be a worse, or a better, place if we hadn't got involved in WW1.  We wouldn't have lost a generation of young men and there probably wouldn't have been a WW2 if we had let the Kaiser get on with it.  The average peasant in Europe would have just accommodated German rule and got on with their lives, with little or no change to their hopes and aspirations.  And I don't even need to mention George, Tony and John's wonderful adventures in Iraq as an example of the futile 'let's fix it' mentality.

Today, USA is taking sides about whether it will be possible to live with Donald Trump as President.  Maybe, we should just say Que Sera Sera and Let It Be.  I call that the Doris Day/Beatles philosophy.

In Australia, we are getting agitated about whether Tweedledum or Tweedledee will form a government.  In the process, we are setting aside all the values we hold dear: honesty, fairness,

civility, respect, acceptance of another's point of view.  As Scott Ludlam said, whatever government takes office will end up as just another thin greasy layer in the core sample of our political history.  Maybe this is why nearly 1 million young people haven't even bothered to enrol to vote.  Maybe they see it for the futile exercise it is.  As a wise man said, the problem with elections is that, no matter who you vote for, you end up with a bunch of politicians in charge. 

What would happen if they called an election and nobody turned up?

Saturday, June 11

Marilyn and I do like to watch Kitchen Cabinet on ABC and we believe that Annabel Crabb was born to do the job of hosting it.  She has just the right level of charm and humour, and the ability to ask the clever, probing questions which show us what's behind the politician who happens to be the subject of that week's program.  Of course, we can be confused by the conflict between how the pollie appears across the kitchen table, compared how he or she is when they put on the political persona.  Jacqui Lambie is a good example: on the show she came over as warm and human but, on Q and A a couple of nights later, she was back to the bombastic, simplistic Tasmanian we've come to know and love.

This week, the guest was Scott Ludlam, the Western Australian Greens Senator.  We don't hear much about him but, apparently, he has gained some notoriety because of a 2014 speech he made in the Senate late one night.  At the time, there was only one other Senator in attendance and you can bet she wasn't listening, so Scott spoke to an essentially empty room.  The speech was less than 8 minutes long but has 'gone viral' on YouTube.  Not many speeches made after 10pm by a little-known senator even get reported let alone attract any attention at all.

It took the form of a welcome to PM Tony Abbott when he was visiting Western Australia just before the 2014 election, and encouraged him to be careful of what 'baggage' he brought with him.  There's a transcript on the internet but one paragraph is worth recording here.

' Just as the reign of the dinosaurs was cut short to their great surprise, it may be that the Abbott government will appear as nothing more than a thin, greasy layer in the core sample of future political scientists drilling back into the early years of the 21st century.'

I wish I could write like that.

Friday, June 10

I've been trying to fill the extra leisure time generated by the bad weather to catch up on some of the political books written over the past few years so I picked up The Stalking of Julia Gillard from the library.  I took it to bed last night hoping to read a chapter of two before I turned out the light.

To my surprise, I had to close if after just a few pages; I just couldn't cope with the subject matter and it's gone back to the library this morning.

It was such a low point in our political history, when the bullies took over the playground and the rest of the children gave in to their worst instincts to join in the nastiness.  How was it OK for shock jocks to suggest the PM should be shoved in a chaff bag and taken out to be dropped in the ocean?  How was it OK for an Opposition Leader to take part in a rally with placards saying 'Ditch the Witch??

We're supposed to be a civilised society where our values include respect for each other and tolerance and mate ship, yet all these were set aside to allow us to put in the boot to a hapless victim.  

I suppose I've managed to push the memories and the helpless frustration I felt at the time into a hidden space in the back of my memory and reading about it again was just too painful.  Luckily, I had a back-up book so I've started reading John Cleese's autobiography. Much easier.

Thursday, June 9

I'm putting out a call for the removal of a word from our dictionary.  Occasionally a word becomes so over-used it needs to be put to death.  The word which is bothering me at the moment is 'disgusted'.  On the surface, it's a perfectly useful word when it refers to something which is loathsome or repugnant or causes nausea.  However, it now seems to be the adjective of choice when you want to describe something which is slightly annoying, mildly irksome or just a bit of a nuisance.

Today, two shop owners were 'disgusted' when their shop was broken into, an awestruck woman was 'disgusted' when Mr Turnbull didn't shake her hand, a would-be bus traveller was 'disgusted' when a bus driver didn't stop to pick her up, ... and so on.

I might say that I'm disgusted with the abuse of that word but, instead, I am irritated, annoyed, angry, frustrated ...  and beside myself with despair at the diminishing of our language.

Wednesday, June 8

What an exciting time it's been in Northern Tasmania over the past few days.  Flood records have been broken and, for once, the eyes of Australia have been focused on a tiny community in the tiniest state.  I heard one woman whinging the other day, 'The TV is only reporting what is happening in the capital cities.  What about Tasmania?'  I hope she's happy now.

The 1929 floods in Launceston have been the bench-mark but this week's floods have beaten record levels set then.  In 1929, the whole suburb of Invermay was inundated.  Immediately after, flood levees were built but, over the years, they fell into disrepair.  After all, the 1929 flood was dubbed the 'once in a hundred year' effort.  There was no hurry to do anything in preparation for the next round.  About ten years ago, though, a new mayor decided to get on with the re-building.  $60 million later, Invermay is surrounded by a state-of-the art concrete barrier which had its first trial this week. 

Of course, the local TV stations dragged up all the old stories about the 1929 floods and the call-in lines were choked with locals re-telling the stories their grandparents used to tell.  One famous character was Charlie Johnson, a policeman who spent the night that the floods reached their highest point in rescuing people and helping them save their possessions.  He worked so hard, so the story goes, that he lost the use of his legs and was in a wheelchair the rest of his life.

Another record broken was at Deloraine.  A regular caller to ABC radio is Kevin the Truckie who rang every half hour with the latest flood level reading.  By mid-afternoon Monday, the record had been broken.  This was a surprise to a lot of us who remembered the recent building of the Meander Dam and the formation of Huntsmans Lake which was so big, the government boasted there would never be another flood in Deloraine.  Two weeks ago, the dam was dry and the local farmers had no water.  After a couple of days rain, it is over full and the spillways were opened to send the huge volume of water down to inundate Deloraine again.  They must think we are mugs.

Monday, June 6

The weather gods continue to cause havoc and Tasmania is gearing up for the expected damage.  The TV is announcing that evacuation centres have been set up and there are flood warnings for all the major rivers.  Even our little creek, which is dry most of the year, is a torrent.  In the midst of all the water, the sprinklers attached to our septic system are running happily adding their little bit to the saturated ground.

I'm reading the biography of Bob Hawke written by Blanche d'Alpuget.  It's an easy read and, because, we lived through that era, it's very interesting.  No doubt, Blanche has put on a certain amount of spin but she certainly captures how popular he was with most elements of Australian society.  Not so with Paul Keating.  He is not portrayed very well, although his undoubted intelligence and economic wizardry are treated in a positive way.

When you're living through a period like the Hawke years, you accept or complain about the decisions made by the government but, thirty years later, you can often take a wider view and see the decisions in a longer-term context.  There's no doubt we often get exercised about day-to-day situations which seem important at the time but are of no consequence when looked at thirty years on.

Sunday, June 5

Like a lot of the east coast of Australia, Tasmania is in the midst of a wet and windy winter's day.  It's the sort of day that made the pioneers hunker down in their log cabins to wait until the weather improved and they could go about their chores.

But, like so many movies about survival in the Wild West, we found ourselves faced with the need for a rescue mission.  A message was received that our grand-daughter and her new-born child were in dire need of a relief package.  There was no alternative;  a volunteer was required to go bravely into the storm to deliver the care package of home-made soup and bread to Madeleine and Macie.

We knew that creeks and rivers were flooded, trees had fallen across roads, highways were blocked but the thought of the dangers ahead made no difference to the courageous resolve of the one who drew the short straw - me.

I rugged myself up and set off into the gale .... Oh, well, to cut a long (and silly) story short, Madi and Macie were terrific.  Macie slept for 6 hours last night and is turning out to be a very placid and contented baby.  Fingers crossed!

Thursday, June 2

I've just finished reading Road to Ruin, the story of how Tony Abbott and Peta Credlin 'destroyed their own government'.  It's not joyful reading but it does show how low Australian politics has fallen when the qualification for becoming PM is that you are a destructive bully.  This quality might have been OK in an Opposition leader but it didn't translate to being PM". It's hard to sum up the book in a few words but one Liberal Minister commented, ' Tony knew he wasn't up to the job and Peta knew he wasn't up to the job.'  It was a creepy relationship and I don't know how Mrs Abbott dealt with it.  

I heard the author Nikki Savas being interviewed on Insiders when the book was released and wondered whether she was just another Labor stooge stirring the pot.  However, she has a long career as a journalist with The Australian and worked for Peter Costello at one stage.  For years, she was regarded as 'the darling of the Conservatives'.  You'd have to expect, then, that the book is written with some honesty and probably a sense of despair about the damage being done to the Conservative cause by Mr Abbott and his cronies.

As I was reading it I was amazed at the deep divisions within the Liberal Party and it reminded me of the UK Conservative Party when Maggie Thatcher was in power.  She talked about the 'wets' and 'drys' and gave all the best jobs to the drys.  The Liberal Party boasts about being a 'broad church' that accommodates a wide variety of views.  I can't help wondering whether that is its weakness.  Traditional Liberals like Mr Turnbull can't get on with the job because they have to accommodate extremists like Cory Bernardi and Eric Abetz.  The long-term alliance with the Nationals must also be a handicap.  Wouldn't life be easier if Barnaby wasn't knocking on your door every five minutes.

I love new words and, on QI today, I heard aptogram which is apparently an anagram which has roughly the same meaning as the original word.  The example they gave was 'moon starer' which, reshuffled is Astronomer.

Dropped in to the conversation was Apple Macintosh, which I am astounded to discover can become laptop machines.  Brilliant!

Wednesday, June 1

We face the day with a new role in our lives.  We are now great-grandparents following the birth of Macie Elizabeth at 3.28 this morning.  It was a marathon birth and Madeleine had to soldier on for hours.  However, all's well with both mother and child.  Josh, Macie's father says he is fine too.