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My favourite banker was Peter May, graceful batsman and cautious captain of the English cricket team in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He once broke his umbrella on the way to work, playing an imaginary cover drive at an imaginary fast bowler.
The case of a Perth midwife has come to light two weeks after that of Dr Bernhard Moeller of Horsham in Victoria. Both are highly valued overseas-born health professioals who have been denied permanent residency because of the burden on the public purse associated with caring for their Down syndrome children.
Kiwi voters opted at the weekend for political newcomer John Key, over the steady management style of longtime leader Helen Clark. They may look back on the Clark days with nostalgia when they discover the new administration is most concerned with pleasing blue-chip investors.
Standing amidst the euphoric crowds in Times Square, it was like we were all in a fairy tale, waking from a horrible dream. That's not to say the problems our world faces are no less large or scary. But we've been reminded that more is possible than that which meets the eye.
If you see some Generation X’s out there in the street, smiling like drunk cats, forgive them their madness - it’s been a long time coming. We are letting our inner lives blend with the polis. We know it might all be fiction but like fiction; it makes us feel less alone inside.
After America's worst president, Obama may prove its greatest. Australians will have reason to celebrate his likely victory, although Obama has no reason to be impressed by Australia.
Commentators predict the economic crisis will see firms fall back on tried-and-true experienced male managers. Women who mould themselves on men whose language and patterns of relationships were formed in the schoolyard will not last long.
The execution of the Bali bombers is imminent, and Kevin Rudd has encouraged Australians to have the 'last gloat'. The Muslim world will interpret our gloating as Australia's endorsementof the Bush Doctrine in its dying days.
Mexico's Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, is not a gloomy celebration, it is a recognition of death as part of life. Skeletons lean precariously out of every doorway and window, smiling, bejewelled and ready for the party.
In Brooklyn, politics and Halloween overlap. On one house, a 'Vote McCain' sign abuts another, declaring, 'Haunted House'. As the West Village prepares for its annual parade, the homeless sit in a curve, supplicating to the wealthy.
Where Obama waxed lyrical about kings and pioneers, Rudd rhymed clumsily about Iced Vo Vos and getting on with the job. Australians don't do magnificence, and our national 'shyness' is nowhere clearer than in our political rhetoric.
The Rudd Government's rationale for cutting migration to Australia is economic, rather than humane. Migrants are forever tapping at the window of the past, unable to ever truly go home.
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