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It is hard to comment on Tony Abbott's demise without being splattered by the schoolyard mud. But we should begin by sparing a thought for the man himself in this time of humiliation. He has given his life to the Liberal Party, and to be disowned as leader by it is surely devastating.
In September Sydney's Daily Telegraph ran the headline 'Schoolyard Terror Blitz', reporting that 'schoolteachers will be given access to radicalisation information awareness kits explaining how to identify students at risk and what they should do to intervene as concerns grow about the rise of teen terrorists'. As the government prepares to address the involvement of schoolchildren in violent extremism, a controversial program in the UK shows a dangerous path that Australia must avoid.
It is hard to comment on Tony Abbott’s demise without being splattered by the schoolyard mud. But we should begin by sparing a thought for the man himself in this time of humiliation. He has given his life to the Liberal Party, and to be disowned as leader by it is surely devastating.
And in the raucosity of blogs, the avidity of trolls, the ubiquity of porn, the vidvidvidity of tubes, the facebookery of profiles, the aviary of twittervation — can the mind still find that space to stretch itself?
Many a man has written elegiacally or bitterly of his education under the firm hands of the Sisters, but not so many have sung the quiet corners where perhaps we were better educated than we were in our classrooms. I learned more about communion at the epic timbered table in Sister Cook's golden kitchen than I did in religion class.
When my father was born his parents named him Adonis, but for the first few years he was called Adonaki, Little Adonis. I picture him standing in the classroom on a fruit box, with his dark curly hair. His hair is still curly if it gets long enough, but it is very soft and silvery. He listens as I read this story to him and he wants to set some things straight.
The hands which pressed triggers, wielded knives at innocent throats, were once the gentle sons of others playing in sand pits, shadowed from scorching winds, while I ferried my own to schoolyard bunkers and safe horizons.
When I'm with you, I take off my rings, unlatch my watch and untie my hair. And it's so quiet, so so quiet, like a film without a soundtrack.
He'd pick up sticks and stones, turn them over, put them in his pocket. He was often the last to cross, arriving as the school's public address system played 'hurry up' music at 8:55am. Some people laughed when I said I'd become a school crossing supervisor, but they don't see the things I see.
Christian defeats a bully using violence more severe than that which he suffered. He learns a frightening lesson about the capacity of violence to still conflicts. Casey Heynes, whose videoed retaliation against a school bully became a hit on YouTube, can probably relate.
You'd never know it, but just above Darwin and sort of to the left, there are 17,000 islands with roughly 240 million people living on them. There's more to this 'Indonesia' place than Bali, Balibo, Bintangs, and bombings. We forget Indonesia at our peril.