Let Us Go Then
"Let us go then
You and your music and the wind and I
Leaving from very strange stations fo the cross
From the uncharted uplands of the spirit."
Michael Dransfield
Australian poet, overdosed in the 1970s.
These pictures are from the polished mirror wall outside the conference room at the Marriott Hotel. Families Minister Mal Brough, notoriously rough; well blunt as, was negotiating with the state ministers over disability funding. There's no votes in disability and little media interest, but we and the ABC were there. I thought it was just another boring presser; and although there was a crowd in the foyer I couldn't see any of the normal gang; and assumed that we were the only ones stupid enough to show. I spoke to Brough's media adviser; Kevin; who unlike a lot of them is old enough to be able to count. By the time I had finished talking to him I was convinced this was the most boring story on the planet and we were wasting our time being there.
Then Mal Brough arrived. As he entered the foyer he was immediately surrounded by disability activists and the Labor Party ministers; confronting him on funding issues. He promptly called the Queensland Minister Warren Pitt a liar and the NSW Minister of leading her own people up the garden path. The advocates were hyped and angry. Then they disappeared behind the mirrored wall for their discussions; and I rang the office to say it was a more interesting story than it looked and maybe they should get a photographer down there.
The worst thing was, peace broke out. Putting your head around disability funding is a feat, let me tell you, but after having it explained to me by some great experts; in the end I could have drummed up a story about state and federal incompetence while millions of dollars are burnt up in disputes. The introduction of the GST by the Howard government, 10% on everything, everything; strangling small businesses in paper work, grotesquely adding to the tax burden on the Australian people, turning us all into constant tax payers and constant tax collectors and crippling all but the largest companies and those clever enough to get around it; was meant to fix all these problems; providing a river of cash to the states. But all those billions just keep on disappearing; while a conservative government pours billions of dollars into the incompetent labour state administrations. Go figure.
THE STORY CONTINUES
"He went in. The booth enclosed him, in front of a blank screen. He had never been in this situation before, didn't know what to do. He put in a coin. The screen lit up. There was a young man on the stage, in underpants, dancing, a pile of porn books in the corner to encourage his erection. He kept looking down as he danced, a small cassetete radio on the floor. He was Mediterranean in appearance, wearing sweaty grey underpants. He was wanking as he danced, only half aroused, invsible eyes watching, assessing. It must be damn hard keeping it up, he thought, more than enough to make me shrivel, discerning, demanding eyes scraping the skin off your cock and your ass. With a clank the screen went blank. He put in more tokens. The performance was continuing. He didn't know how to behave. There was enough of a voyeur in him to find it vaguely erotic, or at least interesting, but he also felt uncomfortable and out of place. He'd rather be in bed with someone he loved, despite the hard times, not lined up with the desperates, their orgasms devoid of affection.
"The screen went blank again and he put in another token. The performance was getting better, slowly. The boy was at least a little more aroused. He seemed to be paying particular attention to him, pulling down the screen that connected the booth to the stage so that he didn't have to keep putting in tokens. Giving him a freebie. He knew even less what to do. He watched the guy dancing, flirting, pulling down his jocks and letting them back up, revealing what there was to reveal. There were cubicles all around him, the uglies watching.
"He felt a sudden wave of claustrophobia, didn't want to be there any more. He had lost track of where Louis was. Bewildered by his own lack of interest, he took one last look and exited the cubicle. There were still men standing around. Dark. Red paint. Dust. Underground eroticism. He didn't feel any sense of gay pride. He fled down the stairs, into the street, giving away the remainder of his tokens to someone as he left. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. There wasn't any question of saying goodbye to Louis. He didn't know where he had vanished to."
THE BIGGER STORY
Washington post dot com political blog:
The Line: Debate Provides '08 Wake-up Call
For anyone not paying attention, the 2008 pre-season is over.
If anyone had any doubt about whether the presidential campaign was ramped up, the still-spurting volcano of rhetoric between Democrats Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton over who is better equipped to handle foreign policy should clear that right up.
It's the first extended back and forth between the two frontrunners, and neither seems ready to back down just yet. Why? Because they each think they can "win" on the issue.
For Obama, the fight represents a chance to paint Clinton as a creature of the past -- a past defined by her vote in favor of the 2002 use of force resolution against Iraq. Obama's argument is also centered on the idea that experience and judgement are two entirely different things. Clinton's political experience, Obama argues subtly, didn't help her make the right vote in 2002, while his political inexperience didn't hamper his ability to argue against it.
For Clinton, the controversy shows why Obama is a risky vote for Democratic primary voters. Yes, he has charisma, but is he ready for the job he is auditioning for? Clinton's campaign believes her experience dealing at the highest levels of government as both first lady and as senator is the strongest counter to the energy surrounding Obama. Your heart might be with Obama, the argument goes, but your head is with Clinton.
It's a fascinating dynamic and one that will play out in any number of iterations between now and January. We'll be watching.
To the Line!