A pre-election meditation

Most of my Saturday mornings start with a quiet, reflective time. ’Pong has gone to work, the cats are fed and have finally shut the fuck up and gone back to sleep. It’s not yet time to join the Snarky Platypus for our regular gym, lunch, shiraz and sarcasm session. I’ve got a couple of hours to sit, still unshaven and often in my underwear, sort through the newspapers and my notebook, turn them over in my mind, and see what emerges.

What emerges this morning is laughter. About John Howard.

Not a belly-laugh, though, nor that loud, pointing, “Haw haw haw! Hey Charlene, will ya just look at that!”

No, it’s a quiet chuckle. A roll of the eyes and a slow shake of the head which says, “Oh, you bloody idiot.” And this moment of amusement is certainly helping to make up for the anger of the last fortnight.

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Weekly Poll: Australia’s new national animal

While writing about the Citizenship Test, I realised they’d forgotten to ask an important question about our national symbols. See if you know the answer. If you’re reading this in an RSS reader, go to the website to vote.

[poll id=”11″]

Last week’s results: Sadly for the Snarky Platypus, “I really want to see a remake of Flashdance” received only one vote. The clear winner was “A bit more to the left, and with a bit more velocity.”

Did anyone understand that poll?

“Billionaire denies building secret sex lair”

Yep, that’s got to be the headline of the day, and I don’t understand why the Snarky Platypus didn’t find it first.

America’s 160th richest person, a billionaire who made his money from the 1990s hi-tech boom, has been accused of planning to build a “secret and convenient lair” underneath his California mansion dedicated to drug-taking and sex with prostitutes

Kenji Kato worked for Mr [Henry] Nicholas as an assistant for seven years and alleges the tycoon ordered him to provide balloons filled with the laughing gas nitrous oxide for guests at parties held by the businessman. Guests’ drinks would be spiked with powdered ecstasy pills, he alleges.

Well, there goes my plan to write a couple of serious essays today… Thanks to Marc Andreessen for the tip.

Saturday Night at The Duke

Close-up photograph of fabric pattern on flannelette shirtIt’s 8am, a crisp winter morning. 11C outside. I drag a battered flannelette shirt over my t-shirt — a shirt that’s now 12 years old, I remember.

I bought it at Gowings when I first came to Sydney, and it’s still wearable, more or less. Where will I buy everyday clothes now that Gowings is gone?

The shirt smells of smoke. Why is that?

It’s not the acrid stench of cigarette smoke, but the dusty odour of burnt wood. Eucalyptus. A bushfire? Ah, no, I remember now. Sitting by the open fireplace at The Duke Hotel… red wine… the memories flood back as the coffee kicks in…

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Silly Newtown Kiddie-Socialists

Yesterday the Snarky Platypus and I passed the usual gaggle of socialists set up outside the Dendy Cinema on King Street, Newtown. “Sign the petition. Release Dr Haneef,” they cried.

Oh dear. Silly, silly people…

Now you must understand that I’m not playing that right-wing commentators’ game of always prefacing “left” or “socialist” with “loony” or “silly”. That’s just name-calling and a very old propaganda technique indeed. That’s why I think Christian Kerr should grow up and stop using it in Crikey — calling his publication’s commentors shrubhuggers and Stalinists really is childish. After all, would we take a left-wing commentator seriously if they always referred to people anywhere to the right of themselves as Nazis or Fascists?

No, I’m calling these people “silly” because collecting signatures on a petition to release Dr Haneef is politically stupid and a waste of time.

  • What happens to petitions to Parliament? Nothing, really. A functionary announces that a petition on [insert title] has been received with [insert number] of signatures. And then it’s filed away. In nearly every case, that’s the end of the story.
  • The next sitting of federal parliament doesn’t even start until 7 August. It’ll be at least 10 days until your petition is tabled. If you really cared about Dr Haneef being in a cell, how about trying something quicker?
  • The government really doesn’t care what people in Newtown think, because it’s the left-wing heartland. “Good heavens,” John Howard quakes, “folks in Newtown don’t like what we’re doing! We’d better change tack immediately!” Erm, no. Now if you collected signatures in Penrith or Ryde or Parramatta or some other marginal Liberal electorate then maybe they’d care — but I’m guessing that doesn’t have the same appeal as spending a sunny afternoon with your mates on King Street, eh?

But my fourth point is the crunch…

  • Dr Haneef had already been released the previous night, charges dropped! While the Newtown socialists were collecting signatures calling for his release, Dr Haneef was already at home watching TV with family and friends.

Gawd, people! If you’re going to play politics, at least try to stay in touch. Perhaps even use that Internet thing!

Pub plant at dusk

Photograph of palm at Coopers Hotel, King Street, Newtown

As I sat drinking red wine and discussing politics with the Snarky Platypus yesterday, the lighting on this plant at the Coopers Hotel, King Street, Newtown, caught my eye. Anyone know what it’s called?