Jackie Kelly: the Black Bile in my Humour

Once again, my faith in the integrity of Australian politics has been bolstered by yesterday’s revelations of racist bogus pamphlet dissemination in the western Sydney seat of Lindsay. The ALP has complained to the AEC after the husband of outgoing Liberal MP Jackie Kelly, Gary Clark and NSW Liberal Party state executive member Jeff Egan were “caught distributing bogus pamphlets in Lindsay portraying Labor as sympathisers of Islamic terrorists”.  Delightful.  Most inspiringly, whilst Jackie Kelly speaking on ABC radio this morning did not approve of the pamphlet, she somewhat defensively labelled it a “Chaser-style of prank”.

The mind boggles violently for consecutive hours, does it not?

In an effort to pay homage to Jackie’s mitigatory efforts, I have written the following song rather inelegantly titled “Jackie Kelly is the black bile in my humour”:

Jackie Kelly Is The Black Bile In My Humour

Jackie Kelly, what a trooper,
Smoothing out her hubby’s blooper.
“Chaser style pranks,” she pitches,
“Lindsay should be left in stitches!”

But to call it parody
Akin to Chaser pranks
Smells a bit like bullshit, Jacks,
Its scent is pretty rank.
The only similarity
It bears to Chaser largesse
Is that these Liberals got caught
And may be facing charges.

Gary Clark, the paperboy,
Educating hoi polloi,
So now you too skate on thin ice,
‘Cause bigotry, it bears a price.

Because to call it parody
Akin to Chaser pranks
Smells a bit like bullshit, Jacks,
Its scent is pretty rank.
The only similarity
It bears to Chaser largesse
Is that these Liberals got caught
And may be facing charges.

Gary Clark, husband of MP Jackie Kelly, pictured hiding behind the implicated pamphlet in a desperate hope that the image of Sheik Al-Hilaly pictured therein may permit him to escape identification.

Free of the shackles

So, dear readers, your trusted heroine has finally emerged relatively unscathed from the dank lair of the examination beast, primed for re-engagement with the outside world.

She will now, of course, proceed to revel in her newfound freedom, embarking upon a coastal walk this weekend to witness a conglomeration of artistically positioned objects sitting in unashamed stark contrast to their surrounds.  She also plans to test her recipe for bread & butter pudding, buy cheap canvas in bulk & finally finish reading The Tyrannicide Brief.  At some stage, posts boasting limited substantive content will be forthcoming.

Photograph of an onlooker from a previous Sculpture By The Sea pictured oxidising at the very notion of subverting the traditional viewing paradigm of the high arts.

Biting the hand that beats you: Federal Court fines DEWR

The Sydney Morning Herald today reported that Justice Branson of the Federal Court of Australia had handed down a decision fining the Department of Employment & Workplace Relations $30,000 for breaching the right of its employees to use their personal leave to attend an anti-Work Choices rally:

Justice Catherine Branson ordered the department to pay the fine to the Community and Public Sector Union.

In an ironic twist to the ongoing Work Choices saga, in which the Government has spent $121 million of taxpayers’ money advertising its policy, the union said it would spend the fine on the ACTU’s anti-Work Choices TV campaign.

[...] Last month Justice Branson found the department had breached the laws it was supposed to uphold, when in November 2005 it advised other federal government agencies to deny leave applications for employees who wanted to apply for leave to attend the first ACTU national day of action against the proposed laws.

Her penalty – which is just short of the maximum fine of $33,000 allowed under the Act – confirms the seriousness of the offence and will compound the problem the Government faces defending its industrial relations laws during the election campaign. It is the second time a government department has been penalised for breaking its workplace laws.

Needless to say, Joe Hockey declined to comment.

Dr Worm on YouTube

A spoof of the recent worm debacle surrounding the election debate, this video is possibly one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. 

It’s the work of a friend who has recently received much media attention as a result of his online satirical antics.  And the attention is certainly due.  Check out his channel here for more gold.

Congressman hopeful of oxymoronic ‘Plain English’ reforms

This article in the Washington Post prompted a resounding gaffaw:

[...] Gobbledygook. It’s the stuff of government. Maybe its No. 1 export.

Now, a first-term House member, Bruce Braley (D-Iowa), wants to do away with the wordy, pompous and confusing forms and memos that spew out of the bureaucracy every day.

He has introduced legislation that would require the government to write in “plain language” – simple words, short sentences and no jargon, so that people can understand tax forms, college aid applications and other documents distributed to the public.

[...] Using plain language would improve services to the public, save time at agencies spent on answering questions about what documents mean and make it easier to hold agencies accountable for their work, Braley said.

A local office of the Veterans Affairs Department rewrote a standard form to make it more clear and the number of telephone calls into the office about the form dropped from 1,200 to 200 a year, Braley said.

With all this talk of plain English & projected rises in productivity of the public service, something tells me this first-term house member is destined to collide with the likes of Congress’ answer to Sir Humphrey Appleby in the not-so-distant future.

Historic ménage a trios: Labor, Dems & Greens get intimate

In an unprecedented move, the Labor Party, Democrats & Greens have forged a passionate & intimate bond in an attempt to persuade voters to restore the balance of power to the Senate.  The threesome have decided to ram the point home by launching an online offensive, destined to shock & horrify constituents.

“We’ve never done this before”, Greens Senator Bob Brown exclaims sheepishly, as the camera pans an all too telling physiognomy.

The move aims to challenge some of the single-handed antics of the Coalition in the Senate over the last parliamentary term.

“We can’t do the great job we need to and make laws better while one side calls all the shots”, notes visibly frustrated Democrats Senator Lyn Allison.

The tryst has summoned a significant backlash from the government, with Senate Leader Nick Minchin disgustedly asserting the alliance would impose a “frightening reality” on the country’s policy agenda, warning of the potential for the radical left-wing of politics to act “in cahoot(er)s” with Labor’s Left to block or abolish key reforms.

Deputy Prime Minister Mark Vaile was moreover reported to assert that “parents should fear Labor would secretly agree to support the Greens’ policy of relaxing regulations on X-rated videos” – comments which have served only to bolster the sensual tripartite attack, sparking preliminary talks with popular dating agencies of expanding its online presence in the form of adultvotefinder.com.

The publicity surrounding the risqué strategy has, however, not been without substance. In the early hours of this morning, the scintillating trio of Greens Senator Bob Brown, Democrats leader Lyn Allison & ACT Labor Senator Kate Lundy rendezvoused on the lawns of Old Parliament House to announce a revised tri-partisan integrated policy on Aboriginal reconciliation, climate change & telecommunications, outlining details of the policy via the bold medium of interpretive dance. The three were reported to have been stark naked throughout the entirety of the 4-hour launch.

The organisation responsible for igniting the magic by bringing the parties together, dubiously named ‘GetUp‘, has issued a widespread plea for donations to assist in funding airing of the video footage. Financial estimates reveal substantial donations to be flowing from all over Australia & abroad, with particular generosity being sourced from & including the surrounding suburbs of Fyshwick in Canberra.

What’s the deal with preference deals?

As Australian voters attune their political consciousness to talk of interest rate rises, education revolutions & preambulary plebiscites, a matter of great gravity & import may well escape their elucidation yet again: the blurred & beguiling business of preference deals.

We’ve all heard of them. We’re not exactly sure what they are…but they sound important. And as the incubation period of election fever draws to a close, murmurs of their workings are becoming more & more audible:

“Greens leader Bob Brown says the party is getting closer to a national preference deal with the Labor party.” (19 October 2007, ABC News)

“Family First is yet to reach an agreement with the major parties on preferences.” (14 October 2007 smh.com.au)

So what exactly are preference deals?, a niggling voice relegated to the periphery of our minds asks.

Are they simply arrangements with respect to political advertising or do they pertain to something far more authoritative? Might they even wield some influence over the final allocation of my vote?

A Call For the Election Spells Death for Turnbull?

The date for the federal election has finally been announced, setting free the electoral monster upon its nationwide 6-week carnivorous rampage. However, in doing so, John Howard may be leaving Malcolm Turnbull for bust at the polls.

Why?, you may ask. 

It is the Prime Minister alone who decides when an election is to be held. Once the PM calls the election, pending the approval of the Governor General, the House of Representatives is dissolved & writs for the election are issued. The incumbent government is then subject to the Caretaker Conventions which dictate against the making of any major policy decisions that are likely to commit an incoming government. What’s more is that the Parliament of Australia is effectively rendered incapable of passing any legislation from the time the election is called until such time when the new parliament meets.

But what does this all mean for Mr Turnbull?

In calling the election, John Howard has effectively sacrificed the Coalition’s last opportunity to pass legislation eliminating discrimination of same-sex couples and their children at federal law, pursuant to the recommendations of HREOC in its most recent report. In 2006, HREOC conducted a national inquiry into discrimination against people in same-sex relationships in the area of financial and work-related entitlements and benefits . The report issued from the Inquiry , launched in June 2007, found that 58 federal laws “denied same-sex couples and their children basic financial and work-related entitlements available to opposite-sex couples and their children”. The Australian Democrats introduced the Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Bill 2007 (Cth) following the release of the report in an effort to implement its recommendations. A joint house, cross-party committee commended the Democrats bill to Parliament. However, despite the Coalition repeatedly citing its support for the removal of discrimination against same-sex couples, it was unwilling to adopt the proposed amendments. Nice one.

All this does not bode well for Malcolm Turnbull who holds the marginal Sydney seat of Wentworth. A redistribution last year saw his electorate encompass the suburbs of Darlinghurst and Kings Cross, renowned for being “centres of gay activity in Australia”, causing Wentworth to become what is known as a “pink” electorate. (The label ‘pink’, it is widely understood, is derived from the predisposition of gays and lesbians to boast an inordinately high degree of colour and radiance in their cheeks, reaching far beyond the national average, thereby rendering the use of rouge redundant).

Unsurprisingly, the ALP has been capitalising on the shortfall in action on the part of the Coalition, distributing material in the Wentworth electorate directly targeting the PM’s “refusal to change laws that discriminate against gay & lesbian couples”.  Recent press reports hinted at Howard’s sensitivity to Turnbull’s electoral plight, speculating as to a forthcoming move by the Liberal Party on gay rights in an attempt to assuage Wentworth. However, those rumours appear to have been quashed by the PM’s announcement of a November 24 election, prompting fervent calls for a blanket prohibition on usage of the old adage ‘it’s the thought that counts’.

What is perhaps most unfortunate in this scenario is that Turnbull has long been a staunch advocate for the elimination of discrimination against same-sex couples. But perhaps not all is lost. Perhaps the constituents of Wentworth will look beyond internal party politics and assess their Liberal candidate on his personal merits on this count. Then again, in light of the aggregate of broader issues at stake, perhaps not, considering the constituency’s perceived sensitivity to issues comprising the progressive agenda, including that of the pulp mill, climate change, the war in Iraq and policy on Indigenous Australians.

What stands out like a sore thumb in this entire confounding ordeal is the fact that amending legislation is yet to be passed, given that earlier in the year a number of senior cabinet ministers, including the Prime Minister, cited their support for the elimination of said discrimination. Of course, it’s to be expected that such moves on the part of the Coalition would meet resistance from Christian lobbies as well as the conservative Family First party. However, the likelihood of these quarters resultantly voting or assigning preferences to Labor is about as low as the swinging sweet chariots that might’ve otherwise carried them home (well, maybe that’s putting too fine a point on it). The real point is if the Libs had passed the amending legislation, it’s far more probable they’d have won more hearts than lost: a far cry from a zero sum equation.

So what’s the problem? Well…it’s not entirely out of order to suppose all of this inaction is founded in a severe bout of egomania. Malcolm Turnbull is recognised for his talents, considered a high-flyer in Australian politics and a candidate for future Prime Ministership in selected circles. However, he does not appear to possess the favour of those occupying the top echelons of government, as demonstrated by targeted instances of public, albeit mild, disdain, most recently by Tony Abbott. Perhaps Howard & co have stepped down from their citadel of virtue & class, casting aside the pursuit of the ideals of equality & tolerance, only to draw motivation from the urge to preserve one’s self. Could it all amount to an effort to thwart this charging bull in its tracks?

Like all good conspiracy theories, this one remains a mere possibility escaping proof. All that remains to be said is that the bells are tolling, Malcolm. But not for thee.

All Aboard the Clerkship

The cogs of the summer clerkship machine are well & truly in motion. Interviews have been sat, sweating hands wrenched & offers released. Many now stand at the proverbial cliff edge, preparing to navigate the Byzantine corporate landscape sprawling before them.

In the wake of this preliminary stage, I think it appropriate to reproduce an article co-written with a friend, published last year in Honi Soit:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Sydney Uni law student unfailingly forms the bane of every other student’s existence throughout the span of their academic career and beyond. Emerging from their heartland of perceived superiority, they have received their tutelage from establishments sporting the words “Grammar” and “Ladies” in their titles. Whilst incessantly blithering on about last summer’s Tuscan sun, they casually moderate the consistency of their Polo collars’ cotton-to-starch ratio. They are, quite simply, the kids you love to hate. It is perhaps in this context of self-congratulatory wankerism, dear readers, that you may derive some pleasure in witnessing how the mighty hath fallen. For while many of you “non-law” people may have recently witnessed no noticeable change in the calm exterior of your law counterparts, trouble has been a’ brewin’ beneath the murky surface. The starter gun has been fired on the summer clerkship circuit … and emotions are running high.

“So what is this summer clerkship business you speak of?” we hear you exclaim. It is a process like none other – one towards which aspiring lawyers toil for many years. The offer of an elusive summer clerkship at one of the “top-tier” law firms spells near-certain graduate employment, translating into joy, success & rapturous applause for many years to come. The successful will enjoy a life of splendour, wining & dining clients from the Hanoi office, and the eventual wasting away of winter breaks sipping cognac before an open fire in their holiday house in Aspen. The rejected will remain forever scorned & experience the sudden downfall of a barely-born career, plummeting to the grimy, soot-ridden curbs of the inner city, culminating in a lifetime’s worth of homelessness, alcohol dependency & an unrelenting stream of angst-ridden jazz poems.

An illustrious career awaits.

The sordid trials & tribulations of penultimate year law students begin with the application process. Hopes of prudence in discretion are quickly defenestrated as the firms’ HR lackeys take the reigns, making the selection process about as predictable as the fate of two nearly naked Japanese game show hosts who must race each other in a billy-cart down rocky terrain whilst their genitals are connected to their opponent’s vehicle giving them electrical shocks when they get too far behind.

But to give you some idea, the process loosely follows the lines of:

1. Submit written application informing Firm X that you have only ever aspired to work for them – a wish starting at 3 months into gestation and nurtured by mother’s bedside tales of formalistic constitutionalism;
2. Receive rejection letter from Firm X and proceed to tell your friends you’re actually relieved because you’ve heard the summer clerk program there has a bad reputation. Secretly cry yourself to sleep night after night due to said rejection, listening to the Verve’s ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ on repeat.
3. Get your friend’s dad, who is a partner at Firm X, to swap your application with some fool vesting faith in meritocracy who has thankfully underestimated the strength of rampant nepotism;
4. Attend both the first and second round interviews at Firm X, both of which are conveniently performed by your friend’s dad. He secures you a clerkship in exchange for your parents lending him their yacht for the annual South-African ex-pats regatta set to take place off the Mediterranean coast next summer.

Incidentally, the allure of these legal monoliths is seemingly unquestionable. The promotional materials, with their glazed veneers, are capable of making a 100-billable-hour/week quota appear comparable to a Spanish siesta. The clerkship process may even be aptly described as the USyd law equivalent of the Berlin Wall – though it is not a gap that separates East from West, but the East(ern Suburbs) from the North (Shore). Once dismantled, the best in conservative values and soulless corporatism are united.

But despite all of the cheap tricks & hastily made long-distance phone calls, many will fail at attaining the clerkship panacea. A moment’s silence, if you will. Now think, dear readers, of your law comrades in this situation – saturated with the stench of scholastic overachievement, suffering from the rank presence of relatives in high places and reeking of a life spent in the harsh light of the upper-middle class – only now to feel the sweet sting of rejection. Place your deep-seated hatred aside for a moment, reach deep within yourselves & rummage up a morsel of sympathy for those who Mother Luck has spurned from her garden party invitation list. They are the rejected ones: lone soldiers enduring the aftermath of a euphoric rollercoaster ride, left only with the bitter aftertaste of inevitable nausea & a plethora of logo-decorated sticky notes.

This is for you – beloved law compatriots – who hath not yet felt the call-back from elusive Firm X, who even as we write, swim dizzily in the stream of disillusionment. Take the life boat of happiness that has unknowingly floated your way, for when your clerkship-endowed friends are spending endless weeks in office 14B in the private equity group, being forcibly awoken daily at 6am, you may press the snooze button & enjoy your glorious summer.

Written by Monique Cowden and Alex Wasiel, neither of whom heard back from Allens.

You’ve Got A Facebook Friend

The revolution is upon us, comrades.

Gone are the days when ‘writing on the wall’, when not employed in the metaphorical sense, simply constituted an indictable offence.

Over are the times when pigeons were utilised in the delivery of the private message, left structurally unemployed in their flocks.

The act of making new acquaintances is now plagued with shifting eyes & nervous nodding, curiosity feigned in a desperate attempt to disguise the fact that you’ve just spent countless hours scrawling over said new acquaintance’s profile, posted items, super wall, draft will & albums from their recent excursion to the Galapagos Islands with their intermediate biology class where they got with that chick who plays bass in your brother’s old band but she clearly doesn’t wish the world at large to learn of any of that because she’s untagged herself from all of the shots where she’s pictured in his immediate vicinity. I mean, it’s so obvious. Or, you know, whatever.

Facebook has grown to become a synonym for social evolution.

The sweaty hand: a tell-tale sign of the skewed knowledge base belying the seemingly innocent making of an acquaintance.

I consider myself something of a veteran in these parts. Having been coerced by a friend who’d returned from exchange in Boston where she’d spent a semester hobnobbing with the irreparably converted, I joined the ranks of Facebook in December 2005. And let me tell you, them’s were rough times. None of these fandangled regional networks, statuses or photo uploads, no siree. The Sydney Uni network boasted half a dozen users, all of whom were too scared to add, too shy to poke. You were lucky if you brushed up against the virtual tumbleweed drifting through that place.

(obligatory shaking of head) How things have changed. It now appears everyone has found their page in that big book up in the cybernetic ether, from your current boss, your highschool sweetheart and your Belgian hitchhiking buddy, to that kid you vaguely remember from preschool who exhibited a chronic Freudian fixation with pottery.

It is on this note, dear readers, that I feel a song would most appropriately mark the disparity of our times and pay tribute to that all-encompassing domain of staged & stilted communication: Facebook.

(duet to the tune of Carole King’s You’ve Got A Friend)

[odeo=http://odeo.com/audio/4623593/view"]

You’ve Got A Facebook Friend

When you’re down & troubled
‘Cause you need more Facebook Friends
But no-one, no no-one confirms at all.
Close your eyes and add me.
And soon I’ll add you back
To brighten up even your starkest wall.

You just search out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll be logging on, oh yeah babe,
To poke you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall,
With the help of Facebook you needn’t call
‘Cause I’ll be online, yes I will,
You’ve got a friend.

I admit, I’ve checked your profile
Even though we’re not yet friends
And while it may sound creepy, that’s not where it ends.
May have scanned your posted items,
Seen your photos from Kuwait
And in your name, created a group…or eight.

Tagged these shots of you blind.
It says here you’re liberally inclined.
You’re a maverick, a beatnik, a star
For quoting Family Guy.
In secret, think your music taste sucks.
So why don’t I go check my Honesty Box
‘Cause you’ll tell me this, yes you will,
You are my friend.

Now ain’t it good to know
That you’ve got a friend
When randoms can be so bold.
They’ll super-poke you, make a joke of you
And take your free gift if you let them,
But don’t you let them.

I just call out your name
In the hope you’ll add me someday
But I’ve already added you, babe,
Just check my status update.
Winter, spring, summer or fall,
All you have to do is click wall-to-wall
And your mini-feed, it’ll read,
You and I are now friends.
We’re facebook friends.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend,
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend.
You’ve got a Facebook friend.