Phantoms At The End of the Day

It will be a long time, through crowded airports, crushing crowds, cities that teem with life; queuing in order to be forgiven. It's been very odd being back; nothing is straight forward, everything forgotten. Picking up the loose strands. Turning on the electricity, almost literally. No hot water, because the wind has once again blown out the gas heater. The computer didn't work, and it took several trips to the computer shop, and some considerable expense, to get it working again. Colin went missing, last seen when I dropped him off at Central Station one morning on the way to a meeting. Rock solid, solid foundation they chant, whenever a member speaks. It's all too much, but nonetheless turns my head around.

But as I said, nothing has been straight forward, nothing. Getting the cards working again, getting financially back on track after a holiday which cost far more than I ever intended. The schemes and dreams, these were always things that we wanted, fragments of erotica and chaotic voices; threads which never linked, clouds which never took proper shape. We longed for order and ended in chaos. I made mistakes, too many mistakes, and pretended that nothing had happened. I've missed Thailand, I just wanted to turn around and go straight back. I loved it there; the momentary affluence because of the exchange rates, the attitudes. I would watch them some mornings and think: these people are happy. No one in Sydney seems happy, almost no one.

The traffic chokes through our lives and the Labor party launched its election campaign for the state. So we have Morris Iemma, who is perceived as not being as glib a liar as his predecessor Bob Carr, but nonetheless a politician spinning bullshit by the truck load. I've lived too long. I don't like any of them anymore. I couldn't care less if the Labor Party lost power, they don't represent me, they don't represent anybody but themselves anymore. The trouble, as everyone points out, is that the opposition isn't much too boot either. Peter Debnam is a thin, austere, terminally straight man in a fundamentally bent town. He relates to almost no one. He pounds the law and order drum as if we hadn't heard enough of it already. He tries to outgreen the greens; pushing us to drink recycled sewerage; and between them the whole state could barely care less who won. Ripped off by the devil you know, or the devil you don't. Debnam is not a bad person; but he's ex-military; and gives off the aura of having never ever sat in a bar and got drunk or smoked a cigarette or done anything normal, ever. They are dry days in a dry climate; and I really wanted to go back. It was great being on holidays, outside my own life. The kids are back after spending a couple of weeks with their mom. Suzy's fighting with Henrietta, poor little thing, all of 14, half girl half woman, a terrible age, and she walks into my house, a bit of a batchelor's pad I have to admit, and says: It's like a temple here, dad. No one's ever called my house a temple before.

So nothing is straight forward, all is forgotten; and in the hopes we build for a more comforting future, these aspirations too fall on dry concrete. Sydney is a frustrating, soulless town. The tourists see the beauty of the harbour and the spectacular beauty of the rich mansions that surround it; and for the rest of it; we have nothing but fake politicians to loathe and traffic to choke in. From the bottom of the well, there is no justice. All the rigours, the discourse, the affection, the chaotic love of a place that once had a heart, it's all been burnt by hypocrisy; a profoundly dredged state of mind, a Stalinesque culture hide bound by regulation; but above all, a terrible hypocrisy.

THE BIGGEST STORY:

Rudd and Howard have been busy battling it out on the airwaves over Iraq after Howard's claim that terrorists would be delighted by a Democrat win in the US, and that in particular a win for Obama would be a win for al'Qaida. It's been incredibly taudry stuff; while the car bombs continue to go off....


An escalating war of words and fury
Alan RamseyFebruary 17, 2007

On October 7, 2003, the Senate debated the worthlessness of John Howard's word on the invasion of Iraq, before voting 33 to 30 to censure him. In February that same year the Senate did much the same thing, voting 34 to 31 to censure the Government for its political manipulation on Iraq and "no confidence" in Howard's handling of "this grave issue". The Democrats' Lyn Allison, now her party's leader, said during the October debate: "There would be few Australians who would not agree we have been lied to over the pre-emptive strike on Iraq."
Three years and four months later, in an election year, John Howard refuses to debate Iraq on any basis, either inside or outside Parliament.
Back in 2003, of course, the Government did not control the Senate. The subsequent election - on October 9, 2004, a year after the second censure vote - ended the Coalition's Senate minority. The political embarrassment of Howard's censure, as Prime Minister, twice in eight months has not been repeated. Howard has the numbers in both the House of Representatives and the Senate to enforce his will.
Yet still Howard will not debate Kevin Rudd.
On Wednesday morning, immediately after prayers as the House resumed meeting, the Labor leader announced a seven-part motion calling on Howard to "immediately come into the House" and debate him "for a period of not less than an hour" on Australia's military role in Iraq.
Rudd did not mince words.
He cited Howard's "false basis" for Australia's decision to join the invasion, his "misuse of intelligence material to justify" the decision, his "failure" to "articulate a clear cut mission statement" for Australia's "continued participation in the war", Howard's "failure" to develop a "clear cut exit strategy" from Iraq, his "refusal" to explain "his strategy for winning the war", his "attack" on the US Democratic Party as "al-Qaeda's party of choice", and "the Prime Minister's lack of guts and courage in refusing to accept" Rudd's challenge to a national television debate "on Labor's plan to bring our troops home" and Howard's plan "to leave our troops in Iraq indefinitely".
The motion was worded as provocatively as possible to try to goad Howard and leave him little room politically to decline.
But the Government was unmoved. Howard wasn't even in the chamber. As Rudd began speaking to his motion, the junior minister at the table, Bruce Bilson, moved the gag on him. All Rudd managed to say was: "The Prime Minister said yesterday that Parliament is the forum for debate. Come on down - " .....