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Outside: the fish factory that never sleeps. The people working in it are illegal migrants, paid a pittance and treated as sub humans. Only the strong return from the fishing trips. If you are ill and cannot work, you can be tipped into the sea along with the other rubbish for the seagulls.
So Australia has lost its bid to host the World Cup. In a single night the Holy Grail of the World Cup was transmuted to tin, the Light on the Hill of 2022 was snuffed out, the Crystal Sea that would convey worshipful hordes to Australia turned to seaweed.
This theatre of cruelty reflects the preoccupations of a protagonist unrestrained by physical revulsion, and evokes a nightmare world defined by sex and violence, where there is not much difference between the two.
Former local sports hero The Hawk took up residence on the town football field. A reporter came looking for a tale of woe but didn't find it. People leave him sandwiches, the kids who play lacrosse set up a screen so his tent won't get peppered by stray shots, and cops drift by to make sure no one's giving him grief.
There is an emerging Aboriginal middle class. The contested questions in those communities relate to the expensive delivery of services including health, housing and education. The contested issue in the urban community is over self-identification as Aboriginal by persons of mixed descent.
No good deed goes unplagiarised; no noteworthy scheme leaves the department unharvested. Lack the intellectual capital to spend on an informed decision? Set multiple minions to work then cherry pick the outcomes, signing off with your own trotter.
Kevin Rudd and Malcolm Turnbull's past faults and misdemeanours have been forgotten and they have been charged with new responsibilities at the heart of Australia's domestic and international futures. The new leaders must wish their vanquished colleagues great success. But not too much.
Went to return a book the other day and it refused to go in the BOOKS ONLY slot. I tried again, thinking perhaps I had suddenly aged beyond belief and could not muster the muscle to cram it through the wall, but no, it was the book itself, adamant, recalcitrant, bristling and ruffling indignantly, that would not allow itself to be returned.
Malcolm Turnbull recently compared Kevin Rudd to the Shakespearean character Coriolanus, a reviled control freak. Politicians sometimes invoke Shakespeare to flatter their own cause. But this is fraught with dangers: they can come off sounding pompous, or their analogies may backfire.
My granddad was a fourth generation white Australian who worked with sheep. I used to tell the story that he was a small town racist who disliked Blacks, Catholics and Jews. The punch line was that his daughter married a Fijian, his son married a Jew and my dad married a Catholic.
Rudd's eviction should strike fear into the hearts of feminists everywhere. For this is how the Labor Government operates, unsheathing the swords, wrenching power, cutting down a leader before he has had time to really prove himself. Imagine what it will do when that leader is a woman.
Since furniture regained its proper size .. and animals ceased to speak .. since teapots evicted rodents .. and the Queen became so very nice .. I find myself looking back ... Everything now is normaler and normaler
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