Friday, 6 September 2013

A speech you won't hear in Canberra.


I’d like to acknowledge the traditional owners of what was, is and always will be Aboriginal land, the Ngarigu, Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples, and their Elders, past and present.
I’d also like to acknowledge that, while former Prime Minister Kevin ‘selfie-doesn’t-seem-so-cute-now’ Rudd’s apology to the Stolen Generations was a bloody good start, it was not followed by enough action (a bit like the Southern Stars, Rabbitohs, Waratahs and every other fucking sporting team I follow) so let’s start by fixing that.
Because until we fix the relationship between our First Nations peoples and the rest of Australia we will remain a broken, dysfunctional society where, due to repeated foot-stamping and willful ignorance and neglect, if you are born Aboriginal your life-expectancy is more than 15 years less than the rest of the population and you are at least 10 times more likely to be in prison.
All research says, unlike the paternalistic intervention in the Northern Territory and the Orwellian-named Stronger Futures, the best-placed people to help Aboriginal people are Aboriginal people. So let’s ask the elected representatives of the peak Indigenous body what they want.
The National Congress of Australia’s First Nations peoples – it’s your job to tell the Government what to do, and it’s our job, as servants of the people, to do it.
Let’s also have a look at what’s working in Indigenous health – the National Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisation and its members have been making real inroads into improving health so let’s throw a shitload more money their way.
And while we’re at it, let’s go some way to addressing the massive over-representation of Aboriginal people in our prisons. Firstly, funding to Aboriginal Legal Services is also going to get a shitload more money.
Then we’re going to implement justice reinvestment – we’re going to spend a fucking massive shitload of cash on programs for young people, encouraging, helping and supporting them in whatever ways they need so they can make an informed risk-benefit analysis about leading a productive and helpful life compared to fucking up.
Next, we’re going to make it harder to become a criminal by getting rid of some of the more bizarre and illogical criminal statutes.
We’re going to legalise marijuana and decriminalise all other drugs and tax the hell out of all of them. From now on you can make your own decisions about what you want to put in your bodies without government interference but you will pay through the nose (or gullet or vein, depending on your poison) for that privilege. If I have to deal with reality with only Socialist Chardonnay as a crutch, I don’t see why the rest of you consciousness-altering fuckers shouldn’t stump up for a fun tax too. (Obviously, we’ll need to come up with a better name than ‘fun tax’.) Anyone currently in prison for possession is to be released immediately.
But what are all these newly-emancipated people going to do for work?
Well, they’re going to look after our future. They’re going to have the option of joining the workforce for the Better World programs, where they can train to be anything from construction workers (bags being in a photo with those guys so I can borrow one of their hats) to build solar farms, plant turf on every possible roof, decommission all of Australia’s coal-powered stations and lots of other awesome ideas – to study science at uni so we can continually reprove the earth is round to make Clive Palmer finally shut the fuck up. (We will keep his dinosaurs though, as a constant reminder of how fucking stupid, yet funny, rich people can be).
And speaking of stupid – the economy.
To pay for all these programs and other awesomely good and progressive ideas as they occur to me, we’re going to tax the absolute fucking hell out of the rich. We’re going to tax those bludging born-to-rule silver-spooners so hard they’ll be sending up smoke signals of piles of burning cash on the altar of capitalism and sacrificing their first-borns to the gods of greed in the forlorn hope of making repatriations for two centuries of self-interest. We’re going to make those fuckheads yearn for the days of a mining tax on super profits.
Rich companies, rich people – I don’t fucking care, they’ve had it far too fucking good for far too fucking long and now it’s time they learned Australia is more than their own personal quarry because the minerals belong to all of us, so it’s only fair that the rest of us see at least some of the profits.
And if any one of those whinging revisionists so much as breathes in to complain they’ll be packed off to Manus Island before they can even say ‘the 457 Visa scheme was a great idea’.
And, for every whining billionaire that we export, we’ll import 10,000 refugees, building a new industry – compassionate humanity.
For that we need a smart, caring, educated populace – and thank fuck we have that. 

Note: 'shitload' and 'fucking shitload' are technical terms used in economics.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Dear anonymous letter-writer


Dear anonymous* letter-writer (and presumably you know who you are),
Thank you for your well-considered and thoughtful missive pointing out how wrong Feminism (your capitalisation*) is and how I must have a mental illness* for writing about it.
Thanks to the insightful and intelligent points you made, I have now seen the error of my ways and have completely revised my opinions to agree with everything you wrote, including that, in response to Prime Minister Julia Gillard’s (should I now start calling her Juliar?) misogyny speech that Tony Abbott should have said:
“Go easy on the ‘Testestone* (sic) Shots’ Prime Minister!”
Thank you also for showing me that after nearly two decades of putting my name and frequently my face to my words that it is much more honourable to attack someone personally and not say who you are* - saves all that tricky responsibility eh?
And thank you for keeping my old columns and sending me a photocopy …
Actually no, I can’t keep this up.
All I really want to say is I don’t give a flying monkey’s testicle what you think of my columns or me.
If you don’t like what I write then there’s a simple answer: don’t fucking read it. Or, if you feel the need to get yourself worked up into a right-wing, hate-filled lather about my leftie, greenie, femo viewpoints, send a letter, with your name on it, to the editor. Or comment on the website – the internet loves vitriolic, ignorant anonymous critics who meet argument with personal insult, as do professional journalists like myself, who still hang like a desperate junkie to the belief that putting your name to something means you stand by your words and have a responsibility to them.
I can see now why the column I wrote about the women I admire (notice, a personal opinion, not telling other people what they should do) so offended you: they were all brave. Pussy Riot, Julia Gillard, Malala Yousufzal, Anita Heiss, Penny Wong and Leigh Sales all stood up under fire for what they believe in – and they did it with dignity.
Only cowards hide behind the yellow cloak of anonymity.  
I want you to know this will be the last time I spare a brain cell to think of you – I have much more important things to do, like tend to the wormfarm and wash my dog’s stinky bed.
I’ve removed gunk from under my toenails that has more class than you** – get fucked you fucking fuckwit and never ever mention my daughter again.

*Indicator someone is an unbalanced nutter
**This is, indeed, a personal insult but is in response to a veiled threat to my child, not a reasoned argument, so I am not being completely hypocritical