sorrow

As the 7.30 Report comes on and the familiar, negative and wholly puke-making visage of the PM appears as he is about to lie, obfuscate and slide around any questions relating to nuclear power, climate change and/or the (non) sale of the Snowy, I hit the mute button. Actually, I change channels. I know I should stay informed, I know about 'know thy enemy' and so on, but I just can't stand it.

Actually, I doubt the Rodent knows that I am his enemy so Sun Tzu probably doesn't count.

Is the electorate slowly waking up? That you can't keep on selling capital assets to fund recurrent expenditure? That the massive costs involved in infratsructure mean that governments will need to go into debt? And that governments can borrow more cheaply than private organisations? That if you keep on screwing those at the bottom of the economic tree, eventually they will rebel?

The optimistic among us will think so and maybe, just maybe, the pendulum will begin to swing. The longer it takes the greater the cost, of course. Some 'informed' commentary might start to recognise the sense in moderate levels of government debt to fund new infrastructure, but the headlines will still scream about red ink and so on. And of course, there is always this. Very informed. "Reputable think-tank". Yeah - if reputable means predictable. Same-same as the Australia Institute - you get what you pay for.

It's in fact hard to find genuinely impartial opinion and analysis. I guess the various places I inhabit on line and in print don't provide it. That said, I have no more time for organisations or individuals whose slant I might agree with if there's not a lot of analysis underpinning it. Like here, I suppose (squirms).

Look, this is just the usual namby-pamby stuff you get a v v b, I just wanted to get it down and maybe at some stage when I've got more time I'll do something a bit...deeper. Hope springs eternal.

happenings ten years time ago

Dunno where the weekend has gone. Spent most of yesterday driving around looking for bits for offspring no 2's new car. All these buggers who've moved to Brisbane in the last 9 (Note: not 10) years. Getting in my way. Lucky the new car's a turbo and gets around in quite a sprightly fashion. Couple of visits to the hospital to see the old man. Not good. Then today I hired a chainsaw to help render into firewood that which I could not do so with an axe. Here's an observation for you: pressing computer keys all week is not good training for using a chainsaw. I was knackered after about an hour, but I got to most of the wood that had proven axe-resistant. In fact I quite like chopping wood, but only when it's going well. There's nothing worse than a knotty bit where the axe just bounces off, but when it splits nicely it's almost as good as sex. Note I said 'almost'. This also applies to hitting a really good 3 wood. 'Almost'. Anyway now I ache from one end to the other and tomorrow will be worse. Must exercise more.

I caught about 30 seconds of Julie Bishop on TV this morning, giving Laurie Oakes part of the truth about the impending nuclear 'debate' by (in part) arguing that circumstances have changed since the secret 1997 Cabinet report on possible locations for reactors. Research reactors that is, not for power generation. As if. The only circumstance that has changed is the PM's conversion - in effect, if not in so many words - about global warming and the need to be seen to be doing something about it. I must say though that Bishop is a polished performer with a big future. She can tell part of the story (note: not 'lie') with a straight face and a clear eye, as distinct from her leader's sideways glances, circumlocution and dismissive air. God help us if she ever becomes PM.

Isn't it a shame that even when the government says it will do something that actually makes sense - in this case, sponsoring a debate - the automatic response is to not take it at its word. Quite dreadful. Taken us 10 years (note: not 9) to get to this stage. Well, not me, I got to this stage a while ago...

workin for the weekend

A week is certainly a long time in politics. I can't prognosticate on the fallout from the aborted Liberal-National merger in Qld. There will be harsh words in private no doubt but whether anyone gets the chop...who knows? The early election mail, which has been about for a while, has regained vigour and the relatively good reception of the Blueprint for the Bush initiative is no doubt a factor - Beattie made noises about Labor's affinity for the bush earlier this week and now you've got QFF and Agforce publicly supporting the program (only the Qld Council of Social Services was peeved that they didn't get more money to visit their rural clients). Watch this space, as they say.

The kyboshing of the Snowy sale is also fascinating. Like I said earlier this week, I thought the instant agreement to privatise, with no debate in any of the three parliaments, to be a low act. Once Alan Jones came out against and talkback radio was overwhelmingly against, no doubt the Rodent sniffed a problem. Heffernan against was extremely interesting, I thought and I imagine his counsel is something the Rodent listens to. I was also struck that the comments on some 'right-of-centre' blogs also took the debate up against the prevailing wisdom.

The political plus was that Howard could claim to be responsive to public opinion (let's just forget for a while that this is not his usual modus operandi, but no matter...) and it puts Iemma - moreso than Bracks - in an enormous (dam-sized) hole. I read somewhere that Minchin thought the decision (to not sell) a good decision. Spare me.

Some commentary I've read tonight suggests that, except for T3, privatisation as a policy preference is now off the agenda for the foreseeable future. My feeling, informed by nothing more than my own prejudices, is that too few people are seeing the benefits of privatisation and that those who benefitted from some of the earlier ones (eg Com Bank) are a dispersed voice (eg my old man did well out of that one and indeed T1 (for a while), but he's no longer a voice). Also - I wonder whether the threat of decreased wages under the IR laws might have had an effect? Who would have understood the value in the float? And punted a few bucks (why, those who could afford to, of course - and who might they be)? Oooh, naked envy - get it here while it lasts, folks.

And finally, just on IR, this from Peter Hartcher in the SMH today: "Of course, the argument that he had to create conditions to allow falling wages to create more jobs is extremely dubious."
Of course it was. It was about neutering the union movement and deeply entrenching the dominance of capital over labour, to roll back several decades of increasing equality and get people frightened and compliant again. Australia, you're living in it. Have a lovely weekend, folks.

two tribes

...is what we will increasingly have in Australia as the wages of the lowest of the low are driven down while the salary packages of the highest of the high are ramped up by the ubiquitous remuneration advice industry. Benchmarking, doncha know. And the Prime Miniature thinks that we work for the good of the economy, rather than the opposite. I think he might have a reality check heading his way as people figure just how widely and deeply the workforLess legislation will hit them, their families and their friends. Plus I also suspect that most people also believe that the economy, so skillfully steered by the government, is there for them, rather than vice versa. Watch this space.

And I see that my opposition to the sale of the Snowy scheme lumps me with the extreme right, according to Crikey. Well bugger me, as they say. Who'd have thunk it?

Finally, it seems that the great Queensland conservative merger is off. Now, to my point from last night. It emerges that there was no unanimous agreement in the party room, rather some members were opposed. Nor was there even a vote. Now, if actual active party members can't trust their leaders, what chance does the ordinary voter have?

Update 1: Maybe it's just stupidity or incompetence rather than outright bastardry? Or an oversight - oops, we forgot to consult! Did you really wanted to be asked what you thought? Happens, you know.

Update 2: Quick, someone hit me over the head.

Reflections

Sometime during the working day I came up with a theme for tonight, but I suspect it's gone. It may well have been some reflections on the nature of democracy as she is practiced in this country, so that's what we'll do. Inspired, of course, by the current machinations here in sunny Queensland with the Coalition partners deciding to join themselves together.

At one level it possibly hardly matters to the punter/voter in the street, such is the apparent growing level of cynicism with the political process as a whole. However, Queensland's particular history, with a dominant Labor party in the 1940s and 1950s and then the Bjelke-Petersen ascendancy through the 1970s up to 1989 seems to have resulted in a greater polarisation. The rural/regional (RARA) bit is fiercely protective of its conservative traditions which mainly found their voice through the Nationals, but are not far removed from some of the more luddite - for want of another term - bits of Labor. However, the growing influence of the SEQ corner, driven by substantial migration from both down south and overseas, has blunted the strength of the rural vote, exacerbating the impact of the redistribution of electoral boundaries by Goss (which eliminated the B-P gerrymander). And it is this trend which has driven the proposal for the Nats to amalgamate with the Liberals under the Liberal banner.

Those who vote more based on federal party policy and issues will be faced with a conundrum if this merger comes off. There will not be a distinct rural lobby or voice, thus opening the way for a repeat of the One Nation phenomenon. Groups such as the League of Rights and similar are still in existence if not particularly 'vibrant', but they represent a dormant force which will be easy to rouse if no more moderate conservative party is available.

You also have to feel for the party members, who undoubtedly knew nothing of all this. What is the process for consulting them? Is there one? (Or do only the Democrats do that?) And if not, how much of a democracy are we where representatives don't even consult their supporters? I retract all this if in fact some process has been followed...

Of course it's just fascinating to watch the developments, as federally the Libs have been utterly dominant for the last decade. Everyone's positioning with nothing but pure self-interest in mind - in other words, pure politics played out publicly. Howard, Vaile, Minchin, Joyce, the other 'powerbrokers'. What normally goes on behind closed doors, all out in the open. Makes you glad you're not part of the game - unless power is what drives you, surely what politics is about.

Whether Federal Labor can benefit from this remains to be seen. If it turns into a train wreck they need surely do nothing - the old adage about governments losing elections. At State level Beattie already cast out some bait, based on the elements of the rural heartland who are not automatically opposed to Labor as mentioned earlier - or at least, who hate the Libs more than they hate Labor.

The major blogs have some good stuff and debate on this tonight - much deeper analysis than this pissy effort. See here for example. Still, I'd love to see the conservative parties engage in some of the soul-baring and bastardry for which only Labor usually grabs the headlines. We all know it happens, but Labor's more evident factional system simply makes it easier for lazy journos to write about. So that's what we hear.

Finally, my much drier than expected economic viewpoint has come to a screaming halt with the proposed sale of the Snowy scheme, which I reckon is just plain bastardry, on the part of Iemma particularly (as NSW has the greatest share of ownership). There have been some good letters to editors in the past week or so: how can this be sold with no apparent parliamentary debate, where will the profits go, can environmental flows be guaranteed, will maintenance investment still be carried out (jobs etc) and so on. I have no doubt that economic cost-benefit analyses will show that it would be better to have the Scheme in private hands. They always do. And similarly, I always come back to the law of diminishing returns: what happens when we've sold off everything? Do we ever look that far ahead? Or do we trust in one particular economic theory? That's one for another day.

since you been gone

Yes, Gerry, this has been the longest non-posting period since v v b started. It's been due to various occurrences. Last weekend the Minister for Home Affairs and I went to Fraser Is for a long-ish weekend to celebrate 30 years of armed truce lawful wedded bliss. It wasn't long enough to properly see and enjoy the place but we did get about a little, had a couple of great meals and on the Saturday night there was a bloke playing guitar and singing, just the way I wish I could. But second best is hearing someone else do it well and third best is something recorded. Gimme live any day.

On the way back we called on some good friends who live just west of Gympie. Had a great lunch and one (light) beer on their balcony overlooking the Mary River valley. Grass, trees, cows, bucolic and restful. They are downstream of the proposed dam at Traveston crossing. There are plenty of anti-dam placards on the roads around Gympie so it will be highly exciting to watch the citizenry rise up against the government - particularly in view of their fondness for guns in that part of the world....

At the same time work has been relatively busy, which has meant bringing a little work home, something that I haven't had to do for a while. And it's about to get a whole lot busier with some big stuff coming down the pipeline, which will be quite exciting.

And to add to all that, the elderly relative has gone into hospital and this time he won't be coming home again. Through the unflagging efforts of Mrs v v b, we were able to keep him at home with us much longer than many families would have been able to manage. However, the latest decline in his condition has got me a bit reflective and is not conducive to blogging, certainly without getting far too personal to be either interesting or even digestible for the casual reader.

In response to my request begging, v v b is now listed at Catallaxy. Ideologically, a less compatible site would be hard to imagine. I enjoy the discussion at Catallaxy but the endless parrying about the influence of Karl Popper and similar luminaries simply reminds me of arguments about the number of angels dancing on the head of a pin. Like pure socialism, pure libertarianism appeals for policy purity, but who'd vote for it? The gut level repugnance is what I feel and I imagine I wouldn't be Robinson Crusoe. Anyway, good luck to them and if they want to invite people to link, then this is what they get. However, I did promise to try harder.

In fact, my sadness - cunningly disguised as Vesuvian anger - at what the mendacious little turd (link superfluous) has been up to lately, has in fact led me to boycott the news. The ABC, now in fear for its existence, has become an Australian Pravda in its relentless boosting of the nation's 'leader' and his every thought. Puke. No more. The rest of media just laps up every diversion and inanity the Libs toss out, so there's no relief in perusing the commentariat. We'll be turning to hearth and home here at v v b, particularly the hearth, as the evening temperature drops and warm fires and warm pussycats become more attractive.

Now we're all up to date, the next post will be another in the series of motor cars we have owned. Over at Larvatus Prodeo, discussion of soft top cars in cooler weather reminded me of driving my old Datsun Fairlady around Canberra, in the middle of winter, with the top down, so we might cover that one next.

baby you can drive my car part the third

Because I wasn't happy with all the photos of the models, and I haven't got around to taking any more, we are now going to move out of sequence. The next car was a 1964 Mini Cooper (998cc long stroke version), but we will move on to the one that came after that, which was a 1964-ish Austin Freeway station wagon. I can't imagine what possessed me to want a wagon - maybe all those girls I'd get in the back, ha ha - but that's what we got. It was in fact in pristine condition with that special 1960s new vinyl smell. I eventually sold it to a school mate some time later. In common with all Freeways it was as slow as a wet weekend. I did get the head shaved and put a set of extractors on it which made no noticeable difference to the get-up-and-go at all. It did have good anchors, though, which proved helpful once when coming back from a weekend trip to Sydney with the lads and I came on the back of a slow-moving Holden just the Sydney side of Goulburn. "Your bloody precious EHs would never have pulled us up in time!" I gloated to my Holden-loving load of suddenly-pale passengers, which may or may not have been an accurate statement.

Some years later when my second Triumph, a Mk2 2.5PI was hors de combat after I attempted to ford a flooded river in it - forgetting at the crucial time that the air-intake was a hose about 6 inches off the deck, so it snuffled up a great gob load of H2O and bent all the rods - I bought a Wolseley 24/80 (scroll down for the pic) as a temporary runabout. The 24/80 was of course the upmarket badged version of the Freeway, with leather seats and all. I called this one Eric the Half a Car, for reasons which will be immediately apparent to all Python lovers. For a car that was quite old and extremely decrepit, this was quite a good 'un - only let me down once (starter motor). It got fearfully abused: my favourite trick on the dirt roads around Canberra was to come howling (well, floating) into a corner and flatten the accelerator and brake simultaneously, it being an automatic. You could get a nice sort of drift going, accompanied by "please make him stop" sounds from the Borg Warner 35 'box.

And then some years later again, I bought another Freeway as wife-to-be and I attempted to scrounge money for our new lives together. I had a warm-ish Mini K at the time and the Freeway was a good deal cheaper, but I only kept it a few months before getting a Morris 1100. Not about saving money at all, more about the fact that I just liked to change cars regularly. Which is why I've owned over 30. And you will have noticed already that I kept changing them for the SAME sorts of cars. I owned three Minis in all, too.

The model pictured is in fact of a Morris Oxford Mk6, but the body shape is generally the same as the Freeway except in details like the grille, tail fins etc. These weren't released in Australia, we got the Austin version (the A60). BMC adapted the A60 to cater for the Australian predeliction for 6 cylinder cars by adding 2 cylinders to the then current version of its B series motor, making a 6 cylinder of 2.4 litres. With a 4 bearing crank, they often used to run the rear main bearing. I sometimes see a Wolseley for sale on eBay and start to think "what about it", but usually someone hits me before I do anything rash.

any old iron?

Do you remember this old music hall melody?

"Any old iron? Any old iron?
Any, any, any old iron?
You look neat. Talk about a treat!
You look so dapper from your napper to your feet,
Dressed in style, brand-new tile,
And your father's old green tie on,
But I wouldn't give you tuppence for your old watch and chain,
Old iron, old iron."

I am reminded of this today because it's the annual Brisbane City Council kerbside clean-up for our (leafy, western) suburb this week. Early on my daughter put out an old TV that's she's been carting around in the back of her car for about 3 months and I put out a push (hand) mower. We went out this arvo for a couple of hours and when we got back, someone's taken (ie unbolted) the handles off the mower but the rest of it is still there. Amazing - well, to my mind at least.

We've subsequently added to the pile with some old cabinetry, a couple of chairs, a computer printer, some metal offcuts, an outdoors table and an upright freezer. We should run a book on what goes to scavengers and what the council takes, including whether they actually take the freezer.

Update day 1: Someone took the freeezer! If I'd had money on, I would have lost. We are now officially below the stipulated 2cbm mark. We'll need to find some extra stuff to put out. Chris, the neighbours have plenty of metal stuff too.

the end of the innocence

Warning: Rodent alert. I know I said I wouldn't do any more posts on him, but...

I was driving home tonight with the execrable Don Henley's faux-emo wailings in my ears. I blame Fred Robertson entirely for making me a Henley-hugger. Whenever I need a good cry, there he is...

But I heard the following words:

"They're beating ploughshares into swords,
For this tired old man that we elected king."

And I thought, yeah, that's about right. We're in a war we didn't get a say on, he was elected but he acts like a monarch. And tired? How can someone make comments about the Beaconsfield miners and still sound so whiny and irritated?

OK, that's out of the system. It seemed much...deeper...at the time. That's what Henley does to you.

time and a word

There's an amazing number of songs with the word 'time' in the title. I'm sure there's a PhD in analysing the number of times various words appear in popular song titles - apart from 'baby', of course - and drawing some relationships to particular themes in human nature. However, from a start like that, it certainly won't be me.

Got off topic from the word go, there. The need for a reason for a reference to 'time' was to relate to the continuing blogparalysis, although this is caused by various things apart from not knowing what to write. And the point I would have made, were it not for the random intrusion of thinking about why certain words appear more frequently than others in song titles, was that I got plenty of time - plenty, you hear me - and we'll be right back at it shortly. Not 'presently'.

In fact I nearly used 'Let the good times roll' as this kind of sums up the current mood. Whenever I start to feel down, I seem to run across somebody who lifts the mood, whether through a joke or just something insightful that makes you go "yeah, that's right." And walk away smiling. In fact I'd probably be hard pressed to identify any more substantial reason why the good times are rolling.

Anyway normal service will be resumed shortly.

doing the cockroach

Here's some brain food (eeeugh - sorry about that, as you will see) to mull over. Via the Rae St Institute.

PS: not a song title I was familiar with (I looked it up), it's apparently by Modest Mouse.

baby you can drive my car pt 2

The circumstances that precipitated the sale of the A30 and the acquisition of the mighty Morris Isis had been in the making for some time. My maternal grandfather owned a 1959 Austin A95, bought at the behest of my father as we were in the BMC business at the time. When the grandfather passed away in 1968, my father's ride was a 1958 Morris Isis, bought from some bloke in Lithgow to whom he had sold it new all those years before. He'd had his eye on it for some time and when he finally sold out of the business in 1966 and no longer had access to a car off the used car lot, he bought the Isis. And now he'd bought the A95 out of grandfather's estate. So I sold the A30 and bought the Isis from him for only a little less than he'd paid for it. Tight old bastard.

The Isis soon became a cult car at school. The ignition switch was so worn that virtually any key - even off a Suzuki 90cc - would fit and I often came out at recess and the car would have been 'borrowed' to go to the shops. The Isis's main attributes were its immense size inside - many people would have memories of having been one of 7 or 8 to have been carried somewhere - and its torsion bar front suspension, which resulted in a soft ride but truly alarming amounts of lean during cornering.

This being back during the days of very detailed annual vehicle testing by the ACT government's own staff, the annual trip over the pits was dreaded by those owning older cars. One year I was sitting in the car while the tester poked and prodded at it from in the pit, testing for rust. All of a sudden this bloody great screwdriver came straight through the floor and appeared between my feet. This was fixed by the old man going to the dump and retrieving a refrigerator door, cutting out a piece the right size and welding it in.

Being a young bloke, inevitably I had to test how fast it would go so one day a good mate and I took it out on to the Federal Highway. We got an indicated 90 mph, shortly afterwards followed by a distinct unwillingness to go. At all. And a very hot smell from under the bonnet. We eventually got it home by driving very short distances until it stopped, waiting for it to cool and then doing it all again.

And that's how we learnt about Welsh plugs. After that it always had a knock as a result of a damaged ring land.

Eventually I decided I wanted something a bit more modern and traded the Isis on a 1964 Mini Cooper. The Isis was sold quite quickly to a young bloke who soon afterwards killed himself in it by running into a tree. My father had put seat belts in it but the steering column was rigid and extended way into the cabin - he had no chance. However the circumstances were quite odd, as it seemed his girlfriend was watching from the kerb at the time and the accident was reported on the front page of the Canberra Times.

The model is of a series 2 Isis rather than the series 1 that I owned. It's a handmade white metal model from Spa Croft in the UK as there aren't any made in the more usual (and cheaper) die cast style. Note the Morris Oxford on the Spa Croft page - essentially the same car but with a shorter wheelbase and bonnet to the Isis, and a 4 cylinder motor rather than the Isis's 6 cylinder C series that it shared with the Austin A90 and A95 and the Morris Marshall. In fact only 12,000 Ises were ever made.

here there and everywhere

Occasional visitors to this site will have noticed that the frequency of posting has dropped off a bit. And given that two 'friends' - yeah, I know - asked me just today "how's your blog going", it's evident that visitation is probably less than "occasional".

Truth is that I've found it hard going again, even after the fillip of being linked by Adrian the Cabbie. Even though I don't like conservatives - well actually I feel differently about conservatives - I just can't keep whingeing about the lying sack of shit all the time. Just as I have been obliged to give up swearing at the TV every time - and believe me that's something that is becoming more frequent - the little f**ker appears. Those posts become boring and do not Make a Difference (more on Making a Difference later).

Similarlywise, I have yet to light on a theme that readers, however occasional, might find interesting. Work could provide some opportunities. Today I had to undertake very important duties, by signing off documents for my boss who was away. This brought me directly into contact with People who think that all Nouns and even some Other Words should be prefaced by Capitals because this is a Very Important Way of Writing. Evidently if you are talking about an Evident Trend in Society, this also requires Capitals because - I suppose, I have no idea really - one day that phrase might be copyrighted and we would have to pay it Appropriate Attention.

When this happens I usually sign off the document provided it's factually accurate and meets all other requirements, because just being Full Of Capitals isn't really an impediment to the Reader's Comprehension and it's stupid to send it back for editing. However, I always put a Post-It note on which says "We are not Germans". And wait for the inevitable phone call from some confused functionary asking "what do you mean?" Trying to stem what seems to be a very widespread trend across the country (no doubt caused by the postmodernisation of the school curriculum) from my little desk is another matter.

Actually today's been really good in that in between various meetings that actually produced quick outcomes and decisions, I've been able to catch up with a few people who always give me pleasure and with whom I can have a genuine Deep and Meaningful ©. These have included:

• the reflective partner. He and I have some things in common and much not, but are able to ask each other the hard questions and get an honest answer. We have a running competition about the stupidest work-related occurrence of the week. He always wins.
• bastards from Treasury. Relentless point-scoring with sarcasm and irony winning over authenticity. I got a couple of points today by pointing out that we are benefitting from some classic Howard middle-class welfare (in-home help for the old man) but with the luxury of voting Labor as we are in a very safe Liberal seat. I am true to myself but have no ethics.
• lunch with a former workmate visiting from his current home overseas. This with a few other former colleagues and the young bloke who is also visiting from interstate. All good.
• a consultant mate with whom I can now have a good conversation without feeling the need to have some pseudo (in my case) verbal sparring. It's a pleasure to talk to this bloke and moreso to listen to him engage with others as he has a colossal repertoire of interpersonal skills (some might be better described as 'tricks') and it's an education to see him deploy them. That said, he's utterly authentic, true to himself and ethical. Compare with comments above.
• finally, Mr Unguarded Moment. We can analyse the world - and do so frequently - but trying to Make a Difference © is another matter. A source of endless conversation. Both he and reflective partner are a fund of stories about worlds that I don't know so it's always an education.

Some of the above might seem a bit Delphic but I do need to (semi) protect identities.

Particularly as visitation is sparse and people might recognise each other. Have you?

baby you can drive my car #1

Some time ago I thought I'd start a series of posts on my model collection. The models are of all the cars I've owned over the years. Of course all of those cars have a story attached, so sit comfortably, start to think about another place and time and here we go.

Oh, before we start, will we do them in chronological order or some other category? We might start at the beginning but, understanding that consistency is admirable in itself but hard to do, we may wander from the ordained path before long.

The first car I owned was a 1956 Austin A30 two door, bought in 1968 a couple of months before I got my licence at 17. The model is in fact an A35 but there was little difference. The two door versions were somewhat rarer at the time as I recall. The car cost me $70 from Larke Hoskins in Mort St, Braddon in Canberra. My uncle was still in the motor business at the time so he gave me some parts for my 17th birthday and the old man rebuilt the motor with me watching intently. That the family was in the motor business and that I got all interested in cars will become more evident as we progress through all the models. Along with how little I learned.

We registered it and I drove it for all of two months before the opportunity arose to replace it. You'll need to wait for part 2 for that bit.

But other memories associated with the car? Well, it did have rubbishy old floor mats which I replaced with some offcuts of the carpet my folks had just recarpeted the house with. This was called "Tintawn" and was Irish - it was also a commercial grade carpet that was perfect for cars - and, possibly, roadways - but hurt like crazy to sit or lie on. It was, no kidding, like a mix of steel wool and barbed wire. Aslo, apparently the parents of my girlfriend at the time had a deep and meaningful about whether she would be allowed to go in the car with me. That permission was given was, just possibly, more related to fact that the A30 was good for all of 64 mph top speed (tested once!) than any personal attributes I may or may not have demonstrated.

The A30 was sold for $275, the only car I ever made money on (thanks to uncle and the gift of parts). Any A30 will now cost you around $3000. There is little reason that I can readily put my finger on why anyone would want one when you can have an Austin Healy Sprite - essentially the same car - for not much more.

tea and sympathy

It looks like young budding scientists really do look up to role models. This, from today's SMH:

Girl's deadly blog
May 1, 2006 - 2:35PM
A teenage Japanese girl who gradually poisoned her mother into a coma while keeping a blog about her worsening health will be sent for treatment in a reformatory, a court official said today.
The girl avoided a criminal trial after admitting attempting to murder her mother last year using thallium, sometimes found in rat poison, according to an official at the family court in Shizuoka, 150 kilometres west of Tokyo.
After the mother was taken to hospital last October, the 17-year-old continued to attempt to poison her tea and took pictures of her in a coma, media reports said.
The mother has not recovered consciousness.
Investigators searching the girl's room after her arrest found animal parts preserved in formaldehyde along with a copy of a book about Graham Young, a British serial killer convicted of poisoning dozens of people in the 1960s and 1970s, newspapers said.
The daughter, a bright chemistry student, idolised Young, reports said.
The girl obtained the thallium from a local drugstore by saying she intended to use it in a school chemistry experiment, media reports said. She also appears to have poisoned herself in an effort to evade suspicion, newspapers said.
"She has switched from denying to admitting her deeds," Judge Hiroyuki Anegawa said in a statement reported by Kyodo news agency. "She is on the threshold of facing up to the seriousness of what she has done, and we can anticipate that corrective education will be effective."
Reuters

Yay, go scientists! Especially those who don't like their parents.

blinded by science

Today's 'news' is a mixture of the tragic and bizarre and won't be improved by any commentary from me. So, for something different, here's an excerpt from the transcipt of this evening's Perspective on Radio National:

Next time you meet a scientist, ask them why they do what they do. They will probably tell you something like when they were a child they met Sir Hillary Edmond or loved to try out the wacky experiments of Prof Julius Sumner.

Debbie Richards, Associate Professor, Department of Computing Macquarie University.

Prof Richards was described at the end of the program as a 'science communicator'. Just as well she's not in the history department.

you're the voice

In today's free weekly newspaper, the 'Street Poll' questions of passers-by was "Has the Australian Wheat Board scandal changed your opinion of John Howard?" And the responses were:

1. "I don't know. I don't know anything about it."
2. "I don't really know much about it."
3. "No. I've been disappointed with the Government because of their handling of the refugee situation."
4. "It certainly hasn't - he's still a scumbag."

Made my day, it did. In other news, my liver is still recovering from two evening's worth of unadulterated punishment as we caught up with old friends at Byron Bay.

working man blues

someone close to the cutting edge of employment or its alternative sent me this tonight:

New Legislation

freedom of choice with a gun to your head
your right to work hard until you drop dead
or we'll get some other fool in here instead
'cos we got this new legislation

the secretary's future doesn't look great
the boss says she showed for work an hour late
besides she refused to go out on a date
and he's got this new legislation

the 4th year apprentice he's done well at tafe
he's worked real hard to make his future safe
but we've got to downsize son so you're on your way
cos we got this new legislation

your union card won't do you favours round here
cos we've smelt your breath and we think we smelt beer
and if you discuss it son your'e outa here
cos we got this new legislation

we wouldn't say darlin' that you're overweight
we think your'e lovely your work has been great
but we're all out of uniforms except for size eight
cos we got this new legislation

overtime's over the contract is signed
penalty rates mate are all in your mind
cos we've got your ars now on our bottom line
cos we got this new legislation

your right to life's over as soon as you're born
24 seven we've got you on call
your time's now our time that's no crime at all
cos we got this new legislation

what we said last year mate we can't recall
and that mutual agreement wasn't mutual at all
cos we made the small print incredibly small
and we got this new legislation

words and music by allan caswell and catherine o'brien copyright 2006

poetry in motion

The PM's disillusionment with current modes of literary analysis and pedagogy was the subject of discussion over dinner with the old man (90) tonight. We wondered, what does Honest John think about Les Murray? (thanks CS for the link!). Murray is Australia's current living embodiment of culture (we are informed). Is he po-mo? He's a raving conservative, but can you recite a line of his poetry or even name one? Does it resonate for you?

Yeah, thought not. Anyway, we're off for the weekend. It will be good - catching up with an old mate to drink beer and red wine and talk cars and families and PMs. Bring it on.

I want to live the real life

There's article in today AFR (not available on line) about networking and how to do it properly. It's a delightful mishmash of truisms (don't look for immediate returns); good advice (you need to be genuine and authentic) and non-sequiturs (you need to have your 15 second pitch ready otherwise people won't pay attention to you).

Maybe I'm missing something, but to me being authentic is as much about listening, getting on the wavelength of the person you've met and demonstrating your interest in them as a person rather than some over-rehearsed summation of your objectives (I will eventually want you to give me something) or a straight sales pitch (have I got a deal for you).

Bizarrely, the article also talking about companies putting their people through speed-networking exercises to help them bring their skills up to scratch. Very authentic.

Meanwhile...

Mrs V V B reckons the IR legislation is going to bite the Howard Administration in the bum: job security is important to Australians. Here's hoping for a non-stop string of bastard boss stories between now and the next election, then. She reckons AWB just doesn't cut it and I have to agree with her. But I reckon West Papua might do just as well: they're not Muslims, they're being persecuted by Muslims. Regardless of how wrong that statement is, it will resonate around the bbq. Might even stop one or two. And anyone who thinks this column's timing is a coincidence ("look who did it first!") is kidding themselves.

rise

I'd forgotten how good this site is and through it I got back to another I used to skim occasionally (skim, mainly because my economics aren't up to proper understanding). But the discussion about the Economist rings true. For a while I liked the Economist because of the insanely clever captions (oh yeah I are deep), then I got some reasonably good analysis out of it, then it started to get tedious and then it descended into a pro-US stance that seemed disconnected from any proper analysis, or from reality for that matter. The structural imbalances in the US economy are well recognised, but for some reason these didn't seem to matter. And an economy where the gap between the haves and have nots appears to still be widening isn't a good thing either, although the Economist doesn't seem to mind.

A lot of us do mind. Common sense and a fleeting acquaintance with history will tell us that people don't like to be obviously downtrodden forever. A few of those points are made here.
Finally, this is just like being back in Algeria or Burma, where the minute-by-minute doings of President Boumedienne and U Ne Win respectively were breathlessly reported to a downtrodden people looking for relief from their threadbare lives. As they say in the classics, we've come a long way, baby.

Today's title refers to this, not this. But you knew that.

Update: Talk about tales of the bleeding obvious. What did they expect to happen? Oh yes, I remember now, carpeted with roses.

I'm looking through you

With the Saturday papers mainly informing what I'm thinking at the moment - not at all a good thing, in the main - I thought I'd link to this article to give you the grist of some things to think about, in a far more evocative way than I could.

I'll stick by my assessment that the current federal government is doing incalculable damage to the 'body politic' in this country and that, very slowly, even supporters are waking up to this. But around Ozplogistan there are still plenty of people who just reckon the left should shut up and cop it sweet - there is a mandate. Not for this bastardy there isn't. We have a classic case of information assymetry. Anyway...sip of red, deep breaths, change the TV channel and...

I thought I'd return to some of the stories about consular 'clients' I dealt with during those years overseas. It's seemingly a law of nature that the more extreme the circumstances, the better characteristics of people emerge. Those consular cases with relatively smaller problems mainly caused me the most angst. Just after the first APEX (advance purchase) fares were introduced, I got a bloke in Singapore. He'd come for three weeks as I recall, but had spent all his money in two days and now he wanted to go home, but he couldn't fly for 19 days and what was I going to do about it. His predicament was a direct result of his own stupidity and he wanted a bailout, but he wasn't going to get it from the taxpayer. I told him we could contact his rellies and get them to send him some money - no, he didn't want that. Every morning he'd turn up, ask the same question, get the same answer, and then he'd sit there for a while and then disappear. After a while he didn't come, so I guess he got himself home somehow.

On another posting, four Aussies died in fairly messy circumstances. The three sons of one of the couples arrived a few days later to sort out the details - even thought there was little they could do in a practical sense. Mrs V V B and I decided we'd have them stay with us rather than a hotel - the 'logic' was that if they saw how badly this place ran its hotels (they were all government-owned), they'd have some pretty pointed questions about how they ran the airline (and, given it was the second crash in 3 months, quite rightly). On arrival the questions about how it all happened began immediately - not surprising. At that stage we didn't know much so I just had to play along with them a bit.

One thing about this direct contact with families, you learnt a lot more than you might have preferred. There were three sons (there was also a daughter, but I came to understand she was estranged from the blokes). The eldest son was a doctor, the second a lawyer and when I asked the third what he did, I learnt he was a mail sorter and he was the one dealing worst with the loss of the parents. But it was an open window into the dynamics of the family which, while helpful in terms of doing my job, I felt a bit voyeurish.

The doctor came in handy - part of my job was to identify the remains and, in this case, there wasn't that much to go on. Mind you, he didn't fare any better, even though these were his parents. But, in one of those stories that you don't often hear about, the Yanks came to the rescue. Seems they had - maybe still have - a well resourced forensic laboratory based in Hawaii and, though this was a military dictatorship, they offered this service and the 'strongman' who ran the place accepted and so, a few days later, all these pathologists and others arrived to start to try and piece together identities from dental records and the like.

I remember some of those consular 'clients' relatively fondly now, after all these years. At the time, I guess I was just fearful. What of, I don't know now....

(good) friday on my mind

It's been a quiet but very good Good Friday. A little yard work, a little blogcommenting and a little sleep. And as offspring no 2 observes, we gave Jesus a wash to help celebrate.

A few weeks or so ago, I wrote about the sublime Crosby Stills and Nash, having just watched a DVD of them from 1992. Today it was another of my all time favourites - Martin Scorsese's film of The Band's last concert, The Last Waltz. There's a few rather dated, hokey bits - the interviews with the band members extremely stoned, for example - but some of the songs in this concert are near musical perfection.

One thing I find extremely appealing about the concert is the fact that everybody's having obvious fun. The Band were big names when they decided to call it a day, but the guests - Eric Clapton, Neil Young, Neil Diamond, Van Morrison, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan among many - are a testament to how big they were. And these superstars, which is what they were, are just having a ball.

Ronnie Hawkins, who I'd never heard of before seeing the Last Waltz, just has a ball, ad-libbing acknowledgement to the band members and leetting out quite untuneful whoops all the time. Young is quite, quite whacked when he saunters up to do Helpless but after a heartfelt tribute to the Band, he blows a few notes on the harmonica and strums a chord or two. Robbie Robertson looks over at Rick Danko and Garth Hudson and mouths something - maybe "has he got the right key?" Then a big slow grin spreads over Young's face and he drawls, "I got it now Robbie" and away they go. Can you imagine today's crop of oh-so-serious rockers doing that?

The version of The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down is one of the most powerful things I've ever seen. They have a horn section in, which does some fills in the chorus. Robertson obviously doesn't like it and he frowns furiously. The second chorus, he attacks the guitar with a vengeance, trying to play over them. By the third chorus, it doesn't seem to bother him as the crowd goes berserk. Levon Helm takes vocals and really lets rip (in fact they all do right throughout the concert - they open their mouths wide and give it all they've got). The only version of this I recall from the time was a cover by some no-names and I never liked it. Never knew what I was missing.

But of all the songs which includes their big ones, my absolute favourite is It Makes No Difference. The late Rick Danko takes lead vocals, it has a simple chorus that rips at your guts, and the words are searing, but this song is one of those that, paradoxically, always lifts me up. Here it is:

It makes no diff’rence where I turn
I can’t get over you and the flame still burns
It makes no diff’rence, night or day
The shadow never seems to fade away

And the sun don’t shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

Now there’s no love
As true as the love
That dies untold
But the clouds never hung so low before

It makes no diff’rence how far I go
Like a scar the hurt will always show
It makes no diff’rence who I meet
They’re just a face in the crowd
On a dead-end street

And the sun don’t shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

These old love letters
Well, I just can’t keep
’cause like the gambler says
Read ’em and weep
And the dawn don’t rescue me no more

Without your love I’m nothing at all
Like an empty hall it’s a lonely fall
Since you’ve gone it’s a losing battle
Stampeding cattle
They rattle the walls

And the sun don’t shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

Well, I love you so much
It’s all I can do
Just to keep myself from telling you
That I never felt so alone before

song sung blue + yellow

A blue song.

West Papuans. Have just had the unsettling experience of Vanstone on TV repeating "we will decide etc etc etc". I have some degree of hope that Australians will look on West Papuans rather differently than how they looked on Iraqis and Afghans in 2001.


A yellow song.

Caught up today with a good friend who's about my age and just been through one of those health scares that blokes my age have. He and his wife are off on a three week walking holiday in Corsica. Sounds great and he's a gentle soul and such a good bloke - one of those rare ones who can be totally honest without it appearing boastful or whingeing - just calls it. I couldn't help but feel really happy for them.

I want to break free

A comment I've just left over in Adrian's cab:

"Adrian - when you do a post like this, I know that the real issues are getting some traction. It's not about the surface issues of bribery or how you do business in the middle east, it's about whether the government can be trusted. Oh the irony - as you will appreciate.
What it tells us is that they think they can get away with anything, but the public does have limited trust and this will begin to bite.

As you know I'm not a conservative supporter, but my principal objections to this lot are not their policies but their systemic dismantling of the checks and balances that make our system a reasonably well functioning democracy. The changes to the election laws, recording political donations, emasculating the union movement, hobbling NGOs, and so on. Stacking boards - well everyone does it, I admit.

Just on the unions, like all large organisations you get individual agendas and so on and I don't deny that many union officials are not at all interested in member's interests. But the reasons why unions came into being are still valid and, since Workchoices, even more needed.
I agree, the government is utterly culpable over this and if there was any decency, Howard would get rid of Vaile and Downer without delay. Well, hah!

And while you might recoil in horror at a Labor Government, think of it in these terms - an inexperienced pack of has-beens and party hacks who suddenly have to become accountable, or a proven pack of corrupt, amoral (think Ruddock, Vanstone, West Papua, please Adrian) crooks being given the licence to ramp up their activities even further. I'd like to think that, if given the choice, Labor would rise to the challenge - but then I look at 'em. Maybe you're right! "

down in the boon (doggle) docks

And I just got an invitation to the worldtechnopolisassociation 5th General Assembly. Now that looks like a first-class boondoggle if ever there was one. And lunch at the Ipswich City Council. That should appeal to the delegates from Bangalore.

I can't explain

I'd like to add my perceptions of the last couple of days of the Cole Inquiry. Because I'm not fan of the current government, I really hope that this issue is the beginning of their end. It's taken a while for the Commission to get to this stage, but the value of such a Commission is that usually, it does. The restrictions of the Terms of Reference will limit the findings but, as has been explained in a few places in today's papers, the general public perception seems to be biting at last. Up to now, the whole thing has been far too arcane for the average punter (unless he's a wheat farmer I suppose). People have a (well founded) understanding that you need to pay bakhsheesh to get stuff done in the Middle East. I can vouch for that having spent time there.

But every time I've seen that argument used, they seem to gloss over that the people getting the kickbacks were people were about to go to war with (and I'll leave how the actual entering into that war was handled).

As Cole gets closer to the 'truth', the perception starts to emerge that AWB is a very good example of an arrogant government that thinks it can get away with anything - and when that starts to happen, more people start to prick up their ears. There's the very often repeated saying that "no matter who you vote for, a politician always gets in" but all governments have their useful lives. And it always reminds me of my dear old dad (well, maybe stow the "dear old" bit at the moment) who said, on the assumption to office of the Hawke government in 1983, "this is the best Liberal government we've ever had." Not far from the truth, either.

For fans of the Westminster Principle (of Ministerial accountability) and how it gets interpreted more and more flexibly, this is the closest we have come for a long, long time that a Minister might go. Given the TOR, it won't be a sacking but an easing out (and a nice diplomatic present one would guess). And if Vaile goes, the whole Coalition arrangement gets opened up even further (post McGauran etc).

Anyway, my little lovelies, interesting times. We live in 'em.

And for those who've tried unsuccessfully to post comments, I don't know what the problem is but I've sent an inquiry to Blogger.

the sounds of silence

No post tonight as I am contemplating the human condition. Feel free to comment, particularly if you are a friend - I know I've got some. Actually, I don't feel bad about last night's contretemps.

people are strange

this is just bizarre. make sure you read it all. whenever you get annoyed because idiots are stealing your oxygen, console yourself that there are squillions of people out there who evidently breathe some other gas. maybe they're giant shape-shifting lizards. and all of them are amateur cartoonists. can you guess it's near bedtime?

another saturday night

Well, I don't ain't got nobody - hmm, triple negative - but I felt it was worth recording that batch 8, a Coopers Aussie Bitter, tastes OK after the minimum secondary fermentation period of two weeks. So any visitors from Canberra or Taiwan can get a reasonable brew here. Followed up that stubbie with one from (I think, I keep forgetting to colour code the crown seals so I can tell 'em apart) batch 7 that also tastes OK, thus proving that to the untutored and/or undiscerning tongue, after one stubbie anything tastes OK...

The papers are full of tales of bastardry that I could recount, analyse and become vituperous about, but it wouldn't get us too far. The unfolding tragedy in the US as George W Bush admits some role - as I understand it - in the leaking of information to the media about a serving US spy (Valerie Plame) because her husband (George Wilson) had caused his administration distress by telling the truth about the nonexistence of Nigerian nuclear material being bought by Saddam - are you with me still? - has a reached a new phase with another of the band of crooks, one Lewis 'Scooter' Libby admitting he authorised (?) the leak under orders. It all smells very much like Watergate and, if there still any justice in the world, it will end up the same. Here's hoping.

Today's picture come to you courtesy of model cars of Raceland and I include it just because it tickled my fancy. A lovely French family going on holidays on a Saturday night - as you do.

...and in late breaking news, the Rolling Stones have agreed to leave a number of very naughty songs - well they were deemed naughty by some people when they were first released - off their playlist for China because it will set back the Glorious Revolution by several centuries. "Let's Spend the Night Together", "Brown Sugar", "Honky Tonk Women" and "Beast of Burden". I can understand the last - don't want those pesky several billion peasants to figure out where they fit in the Great Socialist Paradise Scheme of Things, do we?

Actually, having had Sticky Fingers on the lo-fi this morning so I could play along, I have to admit that Brown Sugar is the most perfect amalgam of racism, misogyny, class stereotyping and sado-masochism that I think has ever been represented in one short piece of popular culture. A triumph! Such fun to bellow at the neighbours "hear him whip the women just around midnight." That'll keep 'em in line.

Update: Actually, the problem here is that in between typing "update" and sitting again at the computer, I've cooked and eaten dinner, had a short conversation with father and now I've utterly forgotten what the update was about. In this interim period we've had the ubiquitous Rodent on our very own Pravda - it really is just a *Howard Administration mouthpiece nowadays - announcing the money for medical training after the obligatory reference to "strong economy". You gotta admire the self-control: he never gets off message: only the Liberals can bring you a strong economy. Relentlessly campaigning.

And now we're getting double demerit points for speeding in Queensland, so we've had the relevant Minister sounding very serious as one does when discussing very important topics such as this. The fact that double demerit points hasn't worked anywhere else is no barrier - if you can't work your way through a policy problem, your ever-ready bureaucrats will have an off-the shelf diversion remedy.

Ah, now I remember the update - actually batch 7 stills tastes like shit.

* Used to be known as the Australian Government: now the Howard Administration. Sounds somehow more appropriate. Gives you reassurance that they're in control.

This post brought to you by the strong economy.

NB: this is not a strong economy.

After update update: on second thoughts, they're German. Not because Raceland is a German based company, but because of the hat. And the sideburns. And the suitcase.

Friday on my mind

Ai yi yi, where to start? Let's try a bloody good story, well told, and see how close we get. The day started with coffee with someone from my work who wanted to get my opinion on how to handle a particular situation in her area. I'm ultra chuffed that someone would come to me for help, but it's always a worry about what sort of advice I give. In this case the situation wasn't life or death and - as is probably the case more often than not - she'd done half the work already, but was looking for some validation. Which, after some faffing about on my part, was provided, after which we commenced solving the world's problems.

No sooner was I back in the office than Mr Unguarded Moment was with me - well perhaps he'd been invited - and we started solving the world's problems all over again. By the time I go to doing some of the 'stuff' I'm allegedly paid to do, I felt like Hercules after the labours.

Which wasn't such a labour, as the day proceeded rather well, with all sorts of decisions being made, stuff being done, opinions being shared and conclusions reached. Easy P.

The eventually quite productive day ended with drinks put on by another area from work. All good, nothing really out of the ordinary until a young bloke was invited to stand up and sing. And he did - some light operetta sort of stuff, he had a trained voice and after a slightly tentative start to ensure he had his pitch, he really let loose. It was quite, quite stunning, moreso because of the incongruity of being in the workplace.

At various times during the day I had all sorts of ideas for stuff to put in to tonight's post. The AFR had a couple of items, including this one that reflects the points I made a couple of days ago in relation to the same article. The Australian Institute for Commercialisation is certainly not a disinterested observer on this issue but their points are valid. The last thing we need is existing oligolopy rents being bolstered even further.

Finally, the uncomplimentary thought occurred when I was out for my lunchtime walk that any Aussies who still believe in the innate goodness of government must be just irredeemably hopeful, while those who still trust the Howard Administration to represent their best interests are just hopelessly deluded.

And as it's Friday, here is our second, poor deceased pussy.

Having lost Baxter, we were paranoid about losing Angus and kept him inside. But he noticed that our old moggy, Kim, was allowed out and he wasn't, so he started playing up. Then we were getting some repairs done to the house which meant leaving doors open, so we started to let him out to get used to outdoors. But a speeding car got him - he'd just turned one. Vale Angus.

old friends

Not in the Simon and Garfunkel sense, of "high shoes with round toes", but more the sort I wrote about on 9 February (A short story of ambition and redemption). Ms ('dis' in this case!) Harmony, Mr Infrastructure, Mr Unguarded Moment and I met this morning. We've been on a pretty incredible journey, we four (and others) and it takes but a moment before we're sharing pretty deep stuff. Spilling the guts might characterise it, but this is more about saying honestly how we feel without any fear of losing some 'advantage', appearing weak or even self-centred. As it turned out, the four of us were feeling pretty similar things.

Our journey is - we think! - meant to lead us to being more effective, 'better people', maybe even being 'centred', whatever that means. We'd all probably describe it differently, but we know what we mean. Yet paradoxically, the further along the road we've travelled, the further away is our destination. Some of us feel we've lost something of ourselves along the way. But it wasn't excess baggage, it was part of what makes us go. Our engine management unit perhaps, if that doesn't stretch a metaphor too far.

But it was incredibly reassuring to realise, in one of those 'bing!' moments, that we all felt the same. We're well able to analyse what we're feeling and support each other, but what else to do about it is another question. We've taken some steps, will see what happens.

My, but all this is obscure! Just as well, I guess. So rather than try some pointless insight, I'll leave it to Keef and Gram, who say it so much better....

Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted
I bought them for you
Graceless lady
you know who I am
You know I can’t let you
slide through my hands
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away

I watched you suffer
a dull aching pain
Now you decided
to show me the same
No sweeping exits
or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter
or treat you unkind
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away

I know I dreamed you
a sin and a lie
I have my freedom
but I don’t have much time
Faith has been broken
tears must be cried
Let’s do some living
after we die
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day.

both sides now

Back to the old spleen. One Sharon will be happy!

The utter cockup at Cowra has not necessarily proceeded to the Government's advantage. It's been 'fixed' - yeah, 'fixed' - and now we wait for the next one. As I said a couple of posts ago, the leadup to the next election will be littered with for and against vignettes from the workplace. Because I'm a 'bleeding' heart, it's bleedingly obvious to me that the legislation, premised on a desire to do away with unionism in the country once and for all, is an utter shambles because it uses a proxy to do away with said unionism, and it's very hard to legislate effectively for a proxy outcome. The list of egregious bastardry is growing, what a shame that only WorkChoiceLess has any traction. Crikey's running hard on Rob Gerard but the mainstream media aren't touching it, the abolition of the staff rep on the ABC Board (ooh those evil unions again) gets a bit of sympathy (regrettably mostly from the Friends of the ABC who are easily lampooned as effete elites) but AWB is just too distant and too arcane. On the other hand, I wouldn't be surprised if the sale of Medibank Private gets a fair of sympathy, as the sale of the Snowy Mountains Scheme is rightfully doing. And the Nats are up in arms about media policy and lessened competition in regional areas. I love it that a lot of their constituents are supporters of the ABC, which doesn't tend to give out wrong information, with potentially fatal results.

The problem for Labor in all of this, of course, is that party's equal enthusiasm for privatisations in the heady days of 1989 and after when global capitalism had conquered all. So if they object now, the inevitable response is "well you did it too so there".

But notwithstanding, the tide is beginning to turn. I loved this letter, in the SMH today:

It's all about respect … for those who earn it

I am 65 and have seen many governments come and go. I don't remember one for which I had as little respect as this one. Integrity, truthfulness and loyalty don't seem to matter at all. I am so disgusted with the new industrial relations laws that for the first time in my life I am writing to a newspaper. The men of my father's generation battled for years for decent working conditions, and they succeeded. Along comes a little man with an overinflated ego and with the stroke of a pen he takes the country back 100 years.

The working people are, and always have been, the backbone of this country. In disasters such as fire, flood, Granville and Thredbo, it's the average Joe and Joan who get out and do the hard yakka, putting things to rights. Sure, governments and the business sector give cash, but very few from these areas get dirty hands and aching backs.

The new industrial relations laws are an abomination and anyone who had anything to do with them should hang their heads in shame. The workers are entitled to, and deserve, respect for what they do; deserve a decent wage; deserve overtime, sick pay and holiday loading, and, most of all, deserve job security. Without them, the country would grind to a halt.

Fred Daly once said there are the needy and the greedy, and it seems to me the needy are getting needier and the greedy are getting greedier. John Howard and Peter Costello carry on about the enormous surplus. The Government is not a bank to hoard taxes; taxes are there to run the country. People don't want piddling little tax cuts. They want a great health system and a great education system and the infrastructure in top shape.

As for the economy, sure, there is plenty of money about - for the ones who already have it. But there is not much joy for people on low incomes or pensions. Besides, the economy was turning around when Howard was elected Prime Minister. Mention tariffs or 9 per cent compulsory super or floating the dollar and giving control of interest rates to the Reserve Bank. Does Howard's name come up? Don't think so. Guess it was a bloke called Paul Keating.
Fay Finucane Kariong

Go you good thing, Kay.

In other news, the coffee with the mentoree went swimmingly as expected. She's got lots of tricky questions for me and is a really good listener. Being a good mentor is a bit of a hard act: have to restrain from coming over all omniscient (not hard, lack of knowledge on most things gives me away usually within a few minutes of any conversation), just being a good listener, trying to help her understand how things work (ahh, large bureaucracies and their intricacies) and trying to contribute perspective and context. Oh I love context.

And I had yet another deep and meaningful, at a level between bogan and academic, with the other staff member I mentioned, on the issue of international aid to developing countries and why it doesn't work. Good stuff. Helen Hughes would have been pleased.

deeper water

No, we're still paddling here at venividblogi. However it still feels good even if the muse doesn't strike with the swiss clockwork precision that it oughta.

So I'll link to this post and particularly the comments thread, which is a surprisingly good-natured exchange of views even if there is not a great deal of difference in those views. Comments threads so often degenerate into slanging matches and personal attacks, especially on political and economic blogs but it was in fact surprising to see all commenters abide by the instruction to keep it clean.

While I normally inhabit the wishy washy soft left corner of the 'sphere ('cos I get the Fear elsewhere), you often get visitors - usually the same ones - from the 'other' perspective (yes, there's more than two, but you know...) and it all gets pretty willing. I admire those visitors even if I don't know their motives: hope to convert; short of others things to do; "is this the right room for an argument"? If you've got the nerve (and the time) , try this and this.

So, on to being more pleasant, more self-evidently wishy washy. Did a trip out to a client today that was, as the current saying has it, all good. We're trying to help them, they're amenable to being helped by helping back in return, why isn't the rest of life like this? The interesting bit is that I went out with one of my team members whose interest in stuff - the human condition - matches mine and we converse on a mutually satisfying level (ie somewhere between bogan and academic!). I'd really like to point him to the blog as a basis for extending the conversation, but while any of the team could find out about v v b, I haven't shared it with 'em as I feel it poses too much of a risk in terms of maintaining the work relationships (supervisor/team members or boss/subordinate to put it bluntly). Perceptions, self-perceptions and the Fear. That would indeed be getting into deeper water. Given the number of blogs, this situation must arise reasonably frequently. Wonder what happens elsewhere?

Tomorrow will be good, it starts with coffee with my mentoree, a *classic Gen Y whose company I very much enjoy, as I've enjoyed the company of the various people I've mentored over the past few years.
* Yeah, not too keen on generalisations such as Gen X, Gen Y etc but having read a few articles on the defining characteristics of Gen Y recently I was quite taken aback when this person, on our first meeting, popped out with a few comments that fitted the template exactly. However, what I think is getting lost in the rampant characterisation is that we all go through learning processes as we start to grow up and the lessons being learnt by Gen Y (eg you can't have it all immediately) are no different to what most, if not all of us, learn when we first join the workforce. What might be different is that as they grew up, many of them did have it all immediately (courtesy of wishy-washy baby boomer parents and and lots of credit) and that today there is a lot more analysis of such trends by virtue of the proliferation of media such as the internets.

Discuss.

eine kleine nachtmusik

Picked up on a comments thread on the Road, this little ditty will soothe the savage, er, breasts, of many of my friends. At least it's not seditious - yet.

At work today a computer fault had Outlook 'working' at about 10%. Took me right back to the days of twin floppy disks and waiting for hours for the beige box to do anything. Plenty of time for reflection, phone calls, learning how not to seethe. How soon we forget.

This came on top of a total system malfunction a week or so ago, when you couldn't even make a phone call because all the work numbers are...on the system. And while I'm on the subject, I'm a bit sceptical about how much productivity emanated from the IT revolution. Oh sure, we produce more...and, arguably, we produce it more quickly, so the stats will be evident and positive. But is more..paper...useful? Lots more?

communication breakdown

The difficulties some of us find in relating to our fellow humans arise in different situations. For a few years I was a consul at Australian diplomatic missions and I used to hate it. Never knowing what the problem was going to be - only knowing it was going to be a problem - I used to really fear it when a potential consular case lobbed in the door. I always used to think that my colleagues who professed great enjoyment of this particular task were having a lend, if not of me then of themselves.

I simply couldn't understand it, even though by comparison with some mates I had it quite easy - most places I was in were not on the usual tourist routes and so I didn't have a nonstop stream of consular problems. Unlike, for example, a couple of mates who did stints in Bangkok. Whenever I went to visit them while on holidays, I inevitably found myself going to the police station with one of them on a Saturday night while they dealt with the latest drug arrest. That said, I did have a couple of nasty-ish cases.

It has only been recently that I've come to reflect on those days (well, years..) with a bit more affection. The reason, I think, is that I used to get immediate feedback on the job I was doing. If I did something that solved the problem I got instant, and sometimes quite effusive - thanks. If I couldn't deliver what was asked, regardless of whether that request was doable, reasonable or even legal, then I still had a problem.

In more recent years I've done types of work where I'm remote from the impact of the task, in patricular remote from the effect it might have on any human being (aside from other disillusioned souls who might read it, whether voluntarily or by virtue of their own responsibilities). It took me some years to get used to this and then I got too used to it. I'm now back working in an area delivering services direct to people and it's much more rewarding. That said, it's also a more positive environment, where usually the task is to help someone do better, rather than fix some particular nasty impediment (although I get those, too).

It would have been good at the time to have understood what was going on, to have reflected on why I felt the way I did. I see that ability to try and learn beyond the immediate experience in many younger people I now work with. Maybe it's because the notion of career is no more (consular service was certainly a career in those days), so young people need to learn from their experiences in as many ways as they can, because they don't know how that experience might be applied later.

my sharona

Just to clarify things as we go forward, I have two close friends called Sharon. So references to any Sharons in this blog might be confusing because each Sharon is highly, highly individual. So, future references should be interpreted according the following broad areas of interest:

1. anything Canadian; anything relating to how people fall off other's people's backs when dancing; dentistry; 'society' in the Middle East; topics that could - with the application of a good deal of imagination or you had to have been there - support the notion of the beneficial aspects of alcohol; the northern beaches of Sydney; the art of remaining uncompromisingly cheerful under all circumstances; or
2. energy policy; the dangers of organised religion; utter bastards we have known; democracy, she is broke; the leafy western suburbs; neighbours you don't want to know; work is a second-best outcome.

Hope that's clear.

smoke on the water

Smokers nicking out for a puff has been a fact of life for some time and, at the same time, the unhappiness of non-smokers who get to spend an extra 2 to 4 hours a day actually at work. I have to say I've never heard any non-smoker whingeing about this but, when I see regular smokers outside the office, I think exactly the same thing. Never done anything about it, though.

However, someone has. Now, the Secretary of the Department of Industry, Tourism and Resources is one Mark Paterson, previously the head of...guess who? Why, none other than the government's greatest supporter on WorkChoiceLess. Draw your own conclusions. I have - it's simpler that way.

you will have the music in you, according to the rulez

A Saturday snippet for youse all, the evils of socialism are being battered into submission by Chinese Idol. But socialism is fighting back. I have two suggestions:

1. we give them Mark Holden, Kyle Sandilands and Marcia Hines - permanently - to help with future series; and
2. we rejig Australian Idol so that it must contribute to the national good. (I'd also like to have a competition so that we can identify what is the national good).

And most recently I have been occasionally consumed by Google Idol and particularly the Dutch girls Pomme and Kelly. It's utterly compelling in a sociological experiment kind of way, also extremely funny and quite well done, and finally it seems to me that it's a demonstration of how new (all right, new-ish) technology enables people to achieve quite remarkable things. Or it's banal and utterly derivative? No, I'm with the former.

Speaking of compelling, don't miss Rockwiz tonight. And I'm devastated that their website doesn't have Dougal on it - for mine, the most compelling character on the show.