b r a v e c r e a t u r e s

Here in Australia the weather is well and truly freaking out. A week before Christmas here in Melbourne the temperature was around 32°  every day for a week, and in Melbourne that means dry heat. A week later and it was 18° and snowing in the Victorian High Country.

At Christmas!

Now for your northern centric bores, remember thats like saying it was snowing in San Francisco or London on June 25th.

Freakish!

Of course it did help contain the once in a century bush fires that were at the time ravaging an area the size of Belgium in the states north east. But apart from that small dump of snow, the country appears to have been unbelievably dry. Farmers in the Murray Darling Basin*, one of Australia's bread baskets, conveniently placed in one of the most naturally arid regions in the country, are entering their seventh year of drought. Meanwhile  most capitals are  employing quite sever water restrictions and Melbourne's reservoirs are expected to drop to 20% by May '07.

Its disturbing, in an Al Gore kind of way.

I went to a party up in Lismore for New Years Eve, Tropical Fruits, and the landscape in New South Wales could not be more different to Victoria. Its green and lush still, while down here it is frighteningly dry and brown. The party was fairly good, but it got fairly cold over night and because I was re-hydrating responsibly I found that I was heading to the bathroom every 20 minutes or so. I say "bathrooms" but in fact there was not much in the way of facilities on offer and because boys will be guys† were going where ever they liked.

It feel like we had become nothing more than a clandestine mechanism for moving water from one place to another while warming it slightly. Its as if the Lismore Shire Council was secretively flouting the water restrictions by using 2000 gay men as a watering system for their lawns.

Aside from anything else it resulted in an evening of "no don't sit there…or there..no not there either".

But I digress.

In actuality its been a higher than average rainfall year for Australia. No really, it has. Its just that its not raining on the places we live and farm - which used to be where it rained all the time. Thats why we lived and farmed here.

But it seems that has changed. According to the Australian Bureau of Meteorology, 2006 has not only been one of the hottest years on record, its been one of the strangest and the Australian farming districts heading for a decade of drought its pretty clear that Australia is going to need to lead the world in addressing climate change. I know I am banging a well gonged drum at the moment, but this needs reinforcement at every level because the reality of the situation STILL Doesnt seem to be sinking in with most people.

Its going to take more than a few peeing faggots to solve the problem. Its going to take a concerted effort, changes in habits (do you really need to flush), government and public programs and a willingness on the part of businesses to look to get ahead of the climate change curve and advantage from the differences rather than suffer. But before they will do that, there needs to be government pressure to push them in that direction.

As my friend Sharon says - Carrot AND Prickly Stick.

The question I have for you dear reader is - what the hell are you doing? What have you changed in the last 12 months to reduce power usage (power leads to carbon remember), reduce emissions and reduce water usage.

At the very least, have you written to your local member, or the Minister for the Environment and Heritage letting them know that you are concerned with the issue and you want them to address it more directly? If you dont say anything, they don't know - and an email takes literally 10 minutes. 

Think about it - ok? 

* Actually its name, I am not just being camp 

† And some girls actually

Last weekend I went on a get away from Sydney with Paul. We drove down the south coast of New South Wales visiting Jarvis Bay and stopping for the night at Batemans Bay . Both were really gorgeous and it was a pity we didn't have more time to spend there, but we were enjoying the road, the opportunity for uninterrupted conversation, and the weather on the coast was a little grey, so we pushed through to Canberra on Saturday morning.

That afternoon was glorious in the ACT and we decided to start sightseeing at Parliament House, New Parliament House that is. Its been there something like 20 years, you would have to wonder when we will stop calling it "new". I guess since we didn't do away with the charming, stodgy old pile of "Old" Parliament house and instead built it into the New House's ambiance, it will likely always be part of the landscape and so the new house will always be "new".

I have been to the new house before, but not for long, and this time we did the tour. It was well worth it, a better hour sight seeing I have not spent in a long time.

To my mothers lasting disappointment, I am not especially patriotic, but there is something about the New House that made me proud of my country. We are a smallish country, economically prosperous, generous internationally with our wealth and generally a friendly people. And we don't take ourselves too seriously. It turns out our government house really suits us.

There were a few things that stood out to me, that made me proud of my nations accomplishments and our restraint. 

As you arrive at the building, the first thing you come to is the Forecourt, with its stark beauty and its island water feature. The centre of it is a huge aboriginal art work, recognising the original inhabitants of the country. Even if the current government cant say sorry, my nation wants to be made whole through integration not assimilation. The water feature and the mosaic make an island surrounded by a ring of water. Like my country, a small island girt by sea.

This is what the place is like, not subtle but not crass. It has some simple, realistic messages that it speaks plainly. Again, like my people, the place is simply spoken and to the point. 

Across the Forecourt is the Great Veranda, which is grand as well as charming and welcoming, how many government houses have marble clad in vines and creepers. Unlike the US Houses of Government which, in my opinion, cold and forbidding Parliament House welcomes you and offers you respite from the heat generated in the Forecourt.

The doors the Veranda leads to are personal and welcoming. Its a place anyone can and should enter. Its the people house of government, not the governments house of the people.

The building is designed in a modern style that looks forward and does not try to conquer the landscape. Rather it melds itself into the hill on which it sits, enhancing the scene by joining it rather than fighting it. There is grass on the roof, and you can walk up there. So that the people stand over their government, not the other way around.

Hows that for symbolism. And its intentional.

There is lots more I could say about the place, I just loved it, but I will stop my rambling and say that it was the highlight of the trip (apart from the time with Paul, but that kind of goes without saying). If you get to Canberra make sure you make time for a visit.

More pictures, if you are interested, at Flickr . 

I have been up in Lismore for New Years Eve. Now Lismore is not a pulsing centre of revolutionary cultural or intellectual advancement, its a sleepy town near the northern New South Wales coast about 90 minutes drive from the Gold Coast.

So why would I, international traveler of renown and bon vivant, be going there for my New Years festivities I hear you ask. Well it was my friend Tony’s idea.

Tony grew up in the area and his mother became ill (cancer) last year (2005). She passed away about 6 months after the diagnosis, and Tony spent most of that time with her after coming home from his long planned trip to the US. He was amazingly selfless, he just went home and stayed there doing everything for her until the end. He is a REALLY good person.His siblings and he have decided to sell the family home, so he has been going up there a lot to settle things and fix up the place for sale.

When my mother got sick in December last year, it become clear that I was going to be spending a lot of time on the Gold Coast. Tony suggested that if she was doing ok, and I could spare the time, I might like to come down to the Tropical Fruits party. This is a smallish party that has become a getaway for the jaded and less frantic of Sydney, to a lesser extent, Melbourne as well as regional New South Wales andBrisbane. Mum has bounced back FANTASTICALLY from what was a pretty harrowing operation, six hours on the table with three guys up to their shoulders rummaging around in her abdomen, so I figured I could sneak away for a little fun. The options of a/ going out in Melbourne and running into the unmentionables, or b/ sitting at home, were really not that appealing.

I flew into the GC, dropped by to see Mum to make sure she was ok and then drove down to Alstonville which is a little village outside Lismore and Byron where Tony’s place was. It was quiet and pretty and absolute delight.

Tony and I napped the afternoon away and then headed off to the party around 10.30, arriving at 11.00 with plenty of time to settle in. On arrival I ran into Leonie Dickinson working the door. Leonie was my exec producer at Open Channel for “One of these things” my sad little attempt at directing a documentary. She is the person who said straight out “you are not a natural director, you will really struggle. You are however a great creative producer. Focus on that!”A little brutal, but you need to be direct with me.

Pussy footing around about what you mean is pointless. She was horrified to be reminded how blunt she had been, but we had a good laugh about it. She is living up at Byron and LOVING IT.

I like to do a lap around any new venue to make sure I don’t get myself too lost later in the night when I am feeling sparkly so Tony and I did promenade of the party compound to get our bearings and to reviewing the troops. All up it looked like a fun space. Two big dance halls side by side, a smaller funk room, a tent lounge, and outdoor cinema showing experimental work (ick) and an art show. We wandered into this last one looking for a bathroom and it appeared that someone had thrown up some pretty average “art” in there.

Most of the alleged art work was vagina related including some model works made of blocks of wood, crazy fur and jam. What wasn’t literally pussy on display was evocative. Lots of pictures of lily’s and orchids done in over bright water colours. Suffice to say Tony and I skipped through there fairly quickly - without putting our hands in the large, dripping holes in the walls.

After grabbing a drink, it was time to explore the dance floor. We went into one of the halls, which wasn’t too busy. I commented on this to Tony who said there was enough space for him to samba, and promptly went on to prove his point. We laughed and continued dancing for a minute or so, until we realized that people seemed to be moving away from us. Quickly! And to such an extent that the hall appeared to be emptying.

Needless to say, in between laughing our arses off Tony was “scolded” for this reckless Sambering which had clearly frightened off the crowd of faux-butch queens we were dancing near. During said humorous scolding, the hall actually completely emptied, which left us kind of worried, so we moved out one of the doors and looked in the other hall - also emptied. Clearly word of Tony’s sassy steps had spread and people were rushing from the place in horror.

We moved out onto the grassy hill side running down from the halls to a large oval outside the party grounds to find all of the party goers standing with their backs to us. “Tony” I said, “If you were hoping to get laid tonight, I think you just blew your chances”.

It was at that point that the fireworks started.It appears that it wasn’t (only) Tony’s suspect samba. There had been some kind of queer flocking behavior that led everyone (bar us) outside to see something shiny.

The fireworks were frankly amazing given where we are, and it was easy to see where a lot of the $80/head ticket price had gone. Sure it wasn’t 3,000 kg of sparklers shooting off the Harbor Bridge or in Melbourne, but it was nice none the less. And given the glorious background of stars, it was all up a pretty wonderful way to usher in the new year.

That will do it for this post. There is more to tell, particularly about the Mcbethian delights of old friends and a fab pool party. But right now I think I need a little nap.

Race riots in Australia. I didn’t think I would see that in my life time, but then so much has changed since September 11th 2001. And more seems to be changing all of the time.

In the last month we have seen the passage of new anti-terrorism legislation through the parliament, emergency revisions to existing legislation and the arrest of a number of people on charges of planning a terrorist attack here. Now the New South Wales government has, in an emergency session, passed legislation providing police with broader powers to search, detain and restrict access to people engaged in, or suspected of planning violence.

I can see the reasons for these expanded powers and I agree that as a society we need to protect the peace. But what seems to be missing from all of this is a focus on the causes of the violence, beyond labeling as racially motivated. What is causing these groups to lash out at each other and what can we do to deal with these issues?

I think the Prime Minister has been a little disingenuous in his assertion that Australia is not a racist country, I think we are just as vulnerable to narrow and parochial thinking as any country. What we do have is a history of not (usually) getting too caught up in events so that things tend to get worked out, rather than escalated. This time however, I am worried.

The media has been feeding the fear in Sydney and across the country; and local, state and federal politicians are all grand standing over the issue. This is all occurring against the background of a lot of strife for the Muslim community. The recent arrests of predominantly Muslim Australians on anti-terrorism charges, the debate over the new anti terrorism laws, and the ongoing violence in Iraq, Iran and Israel.

I really feel a great deal of sympathy for Muslims, this is not an easy time. I am hardly surprised that a bunch of young guys, having lived with the mounting pressure on the Islamic community since 2001, finally snapped. I am also not surprised that a bunch of Anglo boys felt that they had some sort of tacit community permission to give the Muslim boys grief.

So now what are we doing about it. Is there a push to reunite the divided communities? Is the government  coming out with pro active plans to improve race relations? Not so much. We have had lots of condemnation and police action with very little on the reconciliation front. But then this is from the government and the Prime Minister who cant say sorry.

The best we have had is Cate Blanchet getting up and give a speech at the beach. Last time I checked, Cate isn’t head of state (except in Lothlórien) and while I am glad she is prepared to come out in support of strengthening the community I don’t think she should be leading the charge.

Right now I am not sure what can be done. I have done the obvious, writing to my state and federal Senators as well as the Victorian Premier, but I suspect the thing that we all can do is a little more subtle. I think that if we want to live in a peaceful country, we need to think about what it means to have other religions and nationalities amongst us; to learn to differentiate between what is part of the problem (terrorists) and of the solution (Muslims SHARING our country); and to try and include new Australians so they can share their culture rather than be simply trying to assimilate.

Australia has enjoyed a number of very peaceful years as wave, upon wave of migrants from a range of cultures has come to our shores. These migrants have shared their culture and expanded our horizons, but they did so against the background of relative global peace. The current global climate is not peaceful so it is making things harder, but I think that Australians can manage to deal with the complexities.

Australiais a land of many contrasts and, as Bill Bryson is so ready to pointout (in a somewhat high and quavering voice), it is also the place withalmost all of the number one most deadly animals on the planet - snake,sea snake, jellyfish, spider, just about anything that creeps, crawls,bites and kills. We don’t have the most deadly frog, but there is arelationship-killing toad here but since he is an import, I guess itdoesn’t count.

In stark contrast, we are pretty tame on boththe weather and geology fronts. It really is pretty much all sunshineand mild weather, apart from the occasional (ok, semi-constant)drought. I guess all this mild and gentle weather has lulled ourgovernment into a sense of security on the whole global warming issuebecause it has decided, in its parental wisdom, that we don’t need todo any of that silly signing of the Kyoto Accords on climate control.

Butsurprise, surprise the other day on the news I stumbled across a littlelocal weather disaster - that’s right, Australia had its first recordedtwister, or twisters, in of all places - Broken Hill. This is a small mining town in western New South Wales made famous by the Australian mining giant BHP (aka Broken Hill Proprietary company, now BHP Billiton) and the movie Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

BrokenHill is a quaint, Victoria era town, with many local artist inresidence as well as the miners. Construction is mostly brick, wood;and here comes the problem; corrugated iron. Now as just about anyAustralian will tell you, that stuff is sharp and nasty when its new,when its old and corroded, its a killer. Examine any of us closelyenough you will most likely find a scar from childhood where we triedto tangle with the garden shed or the roof of the primary schooltoilets. Corrugated iron is sharp, nasty, vindictive and usually rusty,which means the slightest scratch sent you to the school nurse for atetanus shot.

Now while the anglo population is busyputting up charming iron and stone buildings, its important to consideranother, more native part of the population. They are black, furry anddeadly - namely the funnel web spider. Now this little bugger is anative of Australia and just happens to be one of the most toxicspiders in the world, and they have the charming habit of jumping outof wood piles at people. Get that, an incredibly toxic spider that youdon’t have to find, it comes and finds you.

Now how exciting is THAT.

It gets better.

Whena strangely unseasonal tornado blows through town, what you get is anair bourne concoction of super-deadly spiders and shredding, tetanusladen pieces of iron.

Who said climate change wasn’t dangerous?