The National Anti-Corruption Commission has fallen at the…

The decision by the head of the NACC not to proceed with…

I hate paying tax!

By Bert Hetebry Before my retirement my workmate Paul said he hates working…

Quixotic Regulation: Australia’s eSafety Commissioner Capitulates

It was given top billing, a near absurd show intended to rope…

Does P. Duddy think he's got it in…

A test article - is he nuts? "I thought the chance of Dutton…

Australian Futures: Bringing AUKUS Out of Stealth Mode

By Denis Bright With both sides of the mainstream Australian political divide supporting…

Dutton's Detailed Plan...

A few days ago I was rather cynical when I read that…

Dutton to ‘force poisons’ onto the lands of…

Queensland Conservation Council Press Release Queensland Conservation Council strongly opposes the introduction of…

Dutton’s nuclear nightmare a blatant attempt to keep…

Friends of the Earth Media Release National environmental justice group Friends of the…

«
»
Facebook

I am a writer and commentator, with a background in Indigenous sector project management and tabloid newspaper publishing. As a retired older-age Australian I use my time, and my voice, to highlight the level of social injustice that exists in this country. I seek a better, more humane, more progressive Australia. I do not limit myself to any one topic, and my writing style gives whimsy and left-field thought at least as much power as logic, fact, and reason.

Google Profile

com .. PELL .. ing

I write about many things for The AIMN: politics, artificial intelligence, women, Australia Day, alternative energy etc. But there is one issue that is receiving a lot of press attention lately … and I cannot let it pass unmentioned.

Thousands upon thousands of words have been written lately about the George Pell case. The legal fraternity has had a say. The media has had a say. His supporters have been granted, and have taken, more than a say. The power of might and money is fuelling his appeal and seeking his early release.

Thousands upon thousands of words, conversely, have never been written about each and every individual case, each and every individual one of the untold number of thousands of cases where a young human being was attacked and sexually brutalised by some members of the religious clergy.

An equal amount of words have never been written about the subsequent affects of that abuse on the daily life of each and every single, living, Survivor.

George Pell is not important. What happens to him now is not important. He was found guilty of a heinous crime. He was sentenced. He is not deserving of any attention. For the rest of his life he will have to deal, and live, with himself. That is enough, that is justice, and as long as his physical being is cared for, and as long as he resides in safety in prison, it is all of the attention that I think his matter now deserves.

It is no surprise to find out that convicted clergy do not like being placed into a prison. It is no surprise to find out that they do not like the loss of their freedom. It may surprise some of the public to be confronted by, and informed about, the type of prison that each and every Survivor is unwillingly placed into.

The only way I can do that is by taking you on an unexpected journey …

Last week I visited Port Arthur in Tasmania. On the site of the old Penitentiary, amongst all the ruins, there is a stand alone building called the Separate Prison. While the convicts housed outside that building were subject to forms of corporal punishment, leg irons and lashings and that sort of thing, the inmates of the Separate Prison were subject to an unremitting regime of mental cruelty.

The regime inside that Separate Prison was based on the thinking of Quaker Reformers back then, religious folk, who believed that sensory deprivation and isolation and fierce discipline had strong rehabilitative powers. The reality is that many inmates of that prison ended up broken men, shattered men, who lost the cognitive power to care for themselves and ended up permanent invalids, who even after release had to be permanently cared for by the state. There was not a lot of religious love associated with that process.

Inside the Separate Prison there is a room called the Punishment Cell. It is very small with a vaulted ceiling, and it is beyond dark, no light can penetrate in. If you were strong-willed or recalcitrant you were placed in there. The solitary confinement was absolute .. can you try to imagine how that must have felt?

I walked into that room and briefly closed the door, and didn’t think too much about anything other than how dark and confining and spirit-sapping the room was. Then I walked out of the Separate Prison planning to see whatever was next on the list and grab a coffee.

Thirty yards down the path the world flipped upside down …

Out of the blue I froze up and burst into tears. Yep, a mature older man in his late sixties standing in the middle of a path with tears streaming in a torrent down his face. The friend with me was consoling, but wondered what the heck had just happened that had upset me so much. I was so flustered by this unexpected event that I was wondering the same thing myself. I couldn’t understand or explain it. And then it hit home like a sledgehammer.

It was the isolation and the darkness you see …

The Punishment Cell had become a metaphor for something else. The Prison of Separation that many Survivors try to endure, the loaded affect of years of mental cruelty and physical abuse that Survivors try to carry.

The human mind is a wonderful thing. Sometimes it manages to compartmentalise experienced horrors and shunt them off to the side, and just when you think they are safely managed an event or a moment in time pops up and temporarily negates the defences and blows unexpected tears out of your eyes. It takes a moment to compose and regather.

As a Survivor, and as an advocate for Survivors of childhood sexual abuse who are still trying to find their voice, I have previously written about how it feels to struggle up for any sort of clear air, any sort of release from the weight of depression and PTSD that many Survivors carry.

That bloody cell was the perfect metaphor for the prison of the mind that many Survivors are incarcerated in.

While George Pell and his supporters scream for his release, we Survivors have to battle out from the darkness, the isolation, the mental cruelty, the physical assaults, and the sexual predation that we experienced. We are left to deal with the Separate Prison placed into our own minds by our religious carers.

And some of the supporters of those clergy have the appalling audacity to call us whingers and scum. That is surely a measure of them. It is surely not a measure of us.

The thousands upon thousands of words currently being written about George Pell need to dry up. The focus needs to shift away from him, he is not important and is undeserving of all the attention, and the focus needs to shift where it should belong, onto the ongoing rehabilitative needs of the untold number of thousands of Survivors.

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

 

Women

Can a man write about a situation that concerns women in our society? I guess we are about to find out. The photo used to illustrate this article was chosen because it well represents, in my eyes, the amount of grit that is thrown the way of women … so on with the article.

I was simply having a chat with a female friend the other day, shooting the breeze, deciding whether to have fish and chips for lunch or not, and the subject of the treatment of women came up. Without any conscious pre-thought I blurted out that the treatment of women in modern Australia is toxic.

That kind of stopped me dead in my tracks for a bit. Gave me pause for thought. I suspect that my female friend was not all all surprised by the content of what I said, but where on earth did my statement come from? What was I basing such an assertion on? It all made me ponder a bit more over the fish and chips.

As a man self-raised in my younger years on at least some of the principles espoused by people like Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan, even if I didn’t fully understand everything that they were saying at the time … I thought that things were on the rise for women in our society.

I admired the fact that women were standing up and out there with courage and saying that they had had enough of the inequality bullshit that they had endured since the day dot, and it opened my eyes to how pervading that bullshit actually was.

But all of that was back then, over almost half a century ago. And as I look around today I seriously question whether anything that has locked-in and enduring value has changed for women at all. Maybe I’m wrong with that but I’m flat out finding any evidence to convince me otherwise.

It is very easy as a man, who has fortuitously been surrounded by independent women throughout most of his adult life, to be so easily deluded into thinking that the fight for equality has gained and advanced across firm and non-regressive ground.

Nothing that I am about to say has not been said before, or said better before. Maybe many women and men have said these things so many times before it is not funny. Well, I’m quite happy to jump in and say it all again, and proffer an opinion.

No man alive has any sort of unique insight into the workings of a female human being, or into how a woman feels. But none of that should stop a man from being an effective acquaintance, friend, partner, listener, boss, random man met in the street, or even leader of a nation.

Lacking such insight does not stop many of us men from being those very positive things, good friends and partners etc. Yet sometimes other men choose another path to that and they choose to add-on and express and realise a brutal exhibition of violence towards women.

Women have no unique insight to the workings of a man either you have to, or may possibly like to, admit, and allowing for the occasional example to the contrary women generally appear to be more effective at fostering cordial inter-relationship from the personal through to the societal level. I don’t know why that is, to me it simply appears to be so.

If anybody reckons that they do have unique insights into the opposite gender then I reckon that they’d be a unique example of a unique first. It would be a wonderful gift to have.

It all leads me to the hard questions. All of this happens elsewhere, but I am talking about Australia.

Who denies equal pay to some women?
Who denies equality of representation to women in the workplace, and in places like our Parliaments?
Which gender voice swamps our national airwaves?
Which gender tells another to ram a sock down their throat?
Which gender tells an individual of the other that their social campaigning against violence towards women is unfair to men?
Who fears, and in some cases, hates women?
Who beats up, terrorises, rapes, and continually objectifies women?
Who follows women into parks at night and kills them?
Who, on average, kills one Australian woman each and every week of each and every year of each and every decade?

The answer is some men. Not all men by any means. Some men.

So what can the rest of us men do? Apart from wearing pretty ribbons of solidarity on our shirts or suit labels what can we do about it?

Maybe, we could stop preaching at women with such lines as … don’t walk around alone looking like a victim because you will be seen as same and predated upon. Really? Strong independent women with no carried sense of the victim about them are just as regularly killed.

In the past I’ve been guilty of waffling such silly preaching sorts of lines, but luckily my female friends didn’t disown me, they simply threw a bit of short sharp re-education my way. I’m glad they did, true friends and all that.

Perhaps a better response is to ask ourselves as men how can we contribute to a change in society that ensures that women can walk around alone in safety. We could also ask a woman that question and keep our ears open to hear the answer.

We could ensure that our legislators, and more importantly ourselves, call out domestic violence for the act of criminality and terrorism that it is. If the rate of female deaths in Australia due to domestic violence were down to the actions of a non-state rogue terrorist group then the full resources of the nation would be utilised to end it.

Excuse me for being so blunt about it, but the relatives of the women who have been killed have every right to ask why did you not utilise the full resources of this nation to end the horror that they experienced, the horror that ultimately took their lives? That is, and remains, the most plaintive and fair of questions.

I cannot help but think that we do not yet even closely have enough female representation at any level in our society where decisions about the realities of female inequality or violence towards women are seriously attended to, or rectified.

As an example at the most simplest of levels: equality of pay: payroll systems are automated and computerised, so to harmonise pay rates between the genders in the commercial work sphere … all it would take is the pressing of a few keyboard buttons. Who is stopping such a simple pressing of those buttons from happening? Why is all the hot air and dialogue on that issue still circulating about, after all these decades, without any concrete action occurring? How can the CEOs of private companies, and the owners of medium to small businesses, justify their inaction?

What is the thing in our society that we refuse to glare at and engage full on with? I don’t think it can be said any other way … it is the all pervasiveness and continued existence of the Doctrine of Male Dominance. After all the years of effort it has not been de-constructed.

Too many men, either through their fear of change, or their apathy towards change, or their outright support and fostering of The Doctrine, actively contribute towards its still present dominance over the workings of our society. It is a Doctrine that continues to kill women.

Life itself has led me to the following view of things, and as wobbly and as full of lessons and the re-learning of forgotten lessons as my weave through life and its experiences has been, there is no place for inequality or violence in that view.

As an over-arching statement … there is no place for inequality and violence in the world of men and men, or in the world of women and women, but it concerns me that there is still such a predominant amount of inequality and violence in the world that exists between men and women here in Australia. It is going to take all our combined efforts to stop it.

I don’t think that women are better than men, or that men are better than women. We are all here on a great planet, the only one we currently have until we get to Mars, and our genders swirl around each other with our intriguing differences continually interacting in a dance of unpredictable and joyous possibility.

Why would anybody want to hurt, or be allowed to hurt, an opposite gender who equally contributes to creating something as precious as the minutiae of that wonderful dance?

I, as a man, and my female friends, as women, might all be old invisible farts to the rest of society, we might well be seen as the dated children of the Age of Aquarius who never quite managed to achieve the lofty goals of gender fairness that we strived for way back then. But guess what? We are still here, and we are still striving for something that should not be elusive at all … equality, and an end to violence against women in our society!

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

 

Australia should join the non-aligned bloc of nations …

When big dogs bark, little dogs should keep their flapping yaps shut.

If there ever has been a saying that so clearly applies to Australia … it is that one. We may have a huge landmass, but as seen from the rest of the world we are a small country with a minimal population. We have little power to influence international geopolitical tides, and we are subordinate to the dictates of China and America.

China lectures us, and we swallow it with a mixture of anger and obsequious servility. America has no need to lecture us, it simply points, and we simply follow.

In the pretend political debates about whether or not Australia should join whatever the next iteration of the Coalition of the Willing may happen to be, the outcome of such debates is always a given. If the USA wants us there, we will be there, if they don’t want us there, we won’t be there. Either way it will be at America’s direction. We are not an independent country.

Such fawning acceptance of the will of America has led us into wars in Iraq and Afghanistan with the resultant destabilisation of the nations and regions surrounding those two countries. Both of those long standing wars were lost and even now America is negotiating with the Taliban in order to pull out safely the remaining troops of the USA.

Our involvement in those two American wars cost our country dearly.

We now have far too many maimed and PTSD-ridden defence force personnel who are struggling to gain any sort of fair recognition and compensation for the ills they suffered from the very government that sent them there.

We now have a generation of refugees from our wars thrown into isolated camps and punished for fleeing the horrors that our wars visited upon their countries. We treat them as worse than criminals. But they are not the wrong doers. It is we who are the criminals by association.

How did it all come to this? How did we lose our way so badly?

All the Think Tank international relations and defence experts can wax on as lyrically as they like about our relative place in the world, but what they rarely say is that we are a very small country with ambitions and pretensions far greater than our abilities to deliver same.

We are an ex-colonial, nationalistic, and sometimes blithely ignorant small country sitting on the rump of Asia. Whether we like it or not we don’t matter much, or have much influence, on the world stage.

We have a compact and professional Australian Defence Force (ADF). One of the best in the world. But it is so small it has no hope of defending Australia in stand alone mode against any form of concerted foreign aggression targeted solely at us. We even have a Navy ship stranded in dry dock because we cannot find enough crew for it. All the hype and flag waving by our politicians will not change stark facts. We are unable to effectively defend ourselves.

If push ever comes to shove in the geopolitical arena we will not be attacked because of who we are as a people. We will not be attacked because we consciously stand as a threat to anybody else. We will be targeted because of who we align ourselves with, and who we act as war-fighting proxies for.

There does come a time in the history of a nation when courses embarked upon need to be changed, and when directions long taken need to be reversed. Should we wish to survive as a nation well into the future then we truly need to become independent.

We are under threat from China because of the militaristic alliances we make at the super-power level. Geographically we sit in China’s sphere of influence. It would pay us well to remember that two way appeasement and fence sitting have the historical record of guaranteed failure.

Many empires have arisen and fallen over the course of time within China, just as they have within Europe, South America, and elsewhere. The current version of a Chinese empire is on the rise, and one day like all its predecessors, it will also fall. Where Australia is concerned, it is wise to take the long view with such matters.

We are also under threat from the current leadership team in America because we are allowing ourselves to be drawn into a maelstrom of geopolitical ad-hoc decision making and deal breaking that is destabilising what was a reasonably settled, though decidedly imperfect, world geopolitical order.

For all its imperfections the current order of the world has, at least to date, saved us from the sort of catastrophic worldwide conflict last seen during the era of World War Two.

America seeks to maintain hegemony at a time when its super-power status is slipping, and it is turning inwards as it tries to arrest the receding tide of the worldwide dominance that it once had, and for all we know, may one day have again. China seeks to create hegemony at a time when its super-power status is becoming paramount, and it is far too easily beguiled by the false buttressing of its fawning satellite states. The long march of time will show how all of that plays out.

When you are one of the runts of the litter, and that is undoubtedly what we are, you simply cannot get between or please two big dogs who are viciously barking at each other and fighting for supremacy. The only answer is to remove yourself from the vicinity of the fight.

Australia should join the non-aligned bloc of nations

Some will say that such a move will be used as a wedge by China against America. So what. Both super-powers wedge each other and us and everyone else every day, and they will always seek to do so. Neither super-power is subtle in manipulating us because of our economic reliance on one, and our defence reliance on the other. Self-reliance, and independence, affords some protection from such gross bullying.

It is my belief that Australia should stop fighting other people’s wars and that we should step away from our current super-power military alliance with America, and replace that with strengthened mutual cooperation arrangements with Indonesia, New Zealand, New Guinea, Singapore, and Malaysia.

Will Australia survive if we are no longer protected by America’s nuclear weapons umbrella? Will Australia be open to invasion by some large state player if the US forces are no longer prepared to step in and guarantee our safety? Good questions.

If nuclear-tipped missiles started flying, whether launched from America, China, Russia, North Korea, Israel, France, India, Pakistan, the UK, or some rogue non-state player, then there would be nowhere for anybody to hide. It would be dust and cinders for all. We live in a world where nobody would be safe from such a conflagration, and it is pointless thinking that Australia is a special place that would somehow be spared its share of the horror.

The best we can do as a small state is play our part in the international institutions that try to prevent such an unthinkable war from happening.

Australia is currently under no threat of mass invasion. Only a very large state player would have the resources and capability to transport a massive offensive military force across the oceans to our shores. Think back to D-Day, where it took the combined resources of the largest super-power in the world at that time and all of its allies to transport at great risk an offensive army across the very short reach of the English Channel to Normandy. There are big oceans between Australia and everyone else.

The only threat of invasion that we face is that of minor incursions along our long isolated coastlines by minor state players. As a citizenry we would have to accept that our ADF, our one and only line of mainland defence, would need to be greatly expanded and suitably resourced.

Also, as a people we tend to think that our defence is the role of somebody else, and we abrogate personal responsibility. Our ADF can only do so much, and it needs to be backed up by a well trained cohort, along Switzerland Model lines, of able-bodied male and female Australians who are prepared to be called upon when needed. We cannot have it both ways, if we become an independent country then we are either prepared to defend ourselves, or we are not.

The structure of the Swiss militia system stipulates that compulsory military training applies to all male Swiss citizens under a certain age, with women given the option of voluntary involvement. The Australian Model would include both males and females.

Such a thought of citizen soldiery was anathema in our past, and it was associated with National Service, the Vietnam War, and the unedifying sight of Australia doing the bidding of a larger imperial power and committing our forces to overseas service in order to fight other people’s wars. Under the new model our armed forces would be committed to mainland defence only.

In a geopolitical sense, Australia should be friendly to all and the servile best friend of nobody.

Our nation has arrived at an unavoidable crossroad. We either choose stagnation and remain a small, insecure, scared, and increasingly vulnerable country. Or we choose change.

Though the early worrying signs are there we are not yet fully swamped by the negativity of blind nationalism. We are currently a democracy in progress, with almost unlimited natural resources (if wisely managed), and it is not impossible to countenance that we could yet become a state and a citizenry sitting here on the edge of Asia that becomes a model of progressiveness for others to look at and think about.

I’m asking you to think about the meaning that sits beneath those words, the possibility that sits beneath those words. The as yet unanswered question for Australia is how bravely unique do we, as a people, think we can be?

It will take much change.

We will have to stop fighting other people’s wars. We will have to start treating refugees as human beings who are deserving of our protection. We will have to accept the responsibility of defending ourselves. We will have to become a stronger supporter of climate change activism. We will have to move away from the demonising notion that our poor, our unemployed, and our disadvantaged citizens are the way they are by choice. Our politics will have to move away from adversarial intransigence and towards collegiate engagement. We will have to stop standing in the road of the aspirations of Indigenous Australians. We will have to stop being a proxy for super-power force projection. We will need to change our flag to represent who we now are as a people. We will need to distribute the sovereign wealth of this nation to all of the citizenry, and not just to a select few. We will need to ensure that health care, and education from primary to university level, is free of cost for every Australian. We will need to move on from jingoistic nationalism and replace it with a quieter appreciation of our natural environment, our achievements in the arts and sciences, and of the fact that as a people we are no better or no worse than any other grouping of human beings on this planet.

Apologies to the ALP for pinching their line … but it is Australia itself that needs to become the Light On The Hill.

It is my belief that Australia should become a truly independent Nation. We should join the non-aligned bloc as the Republic of Australia. Beholden to, and scared of, none.

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

Guerrilla Power hits Australia

The knowledge that subversive Revolutionary Guerrillas exist in Australia perturbs many of those at the highest levels of power in this nation. The Guerrillas hide in plain sight, going about their manifesto of demolishing established societal institutions with a quiet and determined resolve. I support their cause, and should they ever become an overt target of the authorities, then I will join the Guerrillas when the revolution is taken out onto the streets.

Ha … just goes to show that things are never what they appear to be.

As an example of that, some friends say that my blue eyes have a penetrating thousand yard stare and seem to scan into the very depths of a person’s private and preciously guarded soul. Not so. I’m simply myopic, and in order to see anything at all I have to peer at it intently like a wide-eyed owl.

The title of this article is another example. It is not about an Australian Che, or tanks in the streets, or anarchy of a negative sort reigning supreme. It is about Volts, the stuff that flows out of the plug to keep the coffee machine gurgling. It is also about the need for far more Guerrilla Power in Australia.

So … where the cost of power is concerned we are currently dumped on from a great height by both our politicians and our monopolistic power generation and distribution companies. That combination of hot air and poles and wires forms what is called the Grid, or to be more accurate, the Gridlock.

While there are some outstanding isolated exceptions, most politicians vie with each other to assure us that lowering power prices is a prime motivation for them. Bullshit. They have a demonstrated track record of failing spectacularly to rein in the high levels of corporate profit-taking greed that swamps the Australian financial landscape. Think banks for starters.

Politicians are not part of the power solution. By their curious inability to formulate a cohesive energy policy over the last decade they are simply part of the cause of the problem. We need to cut them out of the equation.

We have monopolistic power generation and distribution companies. Generally they get the required energy into our homes without too much interruption or down-time, but as individuals we have to empty our Treasuries of Persepolis in order to pay for it all. I ration my power use carefully, a bit goes towards watching the ABC, and none whatsoever gets sent the way of Sky News.

Those monopolistic power companies supposedly have whizz-bang executives and planners at the helm, yet at the very time a few years ago when new renewable and storage technologies started to come on stream, those apparently sharp types over invested heavily in poles and wires. Some of those poles and wires literally ended in Nowheresville, with nothing more than a mighty slag heap of subsidies at the other end.

We are told by others, with faces amazingly straight, that if coal-fired power generation is not part of the mix for the next fifty years then we will all die a horribly cold and unlit death by as early as tomorrow morning. This is where it pays to stand back a bit from all that and have a look at what is actually happening around us in the world of power generation.

Australia has an incredibly high take up rate of rooftop solar, maybe the highest in the world. It is now getting cheaper to bung that stuff up on the roof and battery storage has improved to such an extent that the facile argument that the sun sometimes doesn’t always shine no longer holds water.

I don’t see why, soon, we will need to have monopolistic power generation companies at all. They know it too, and that’s why they are putting out those amazing deals where they subsidise your rooftop gear, and therefore tie you into the grip of their financial thrall for ever and a day. The companies well know that if you are independently off-grid then you simply don’t need their services.

I’m well aware that many people cannot currently afford to place a fully off-grid power generation system in their own homes. To be fully self-sufficient in power does cost an initial capital investment, but once done, you are forever free from the power hawks.

I have great admiration for true off-gridders. They are the vanguard of a guerrilla power insurrection, based largely in our suburbs, that is slowly eating away at the primacy of monopolistic power generation and supply companies. If you meet an off-gridder in the streets you will not be able to identify them, and they have perfected the camouflage of hiding in plain sight. Cunning strategy that.

In true guerrilla fashion, they live within the general population, some of whom partially support them by being independent power generators still connected to the grid for financial sell it back reasons, and amongst others who may have no choice but to remain wedded to the poles and wires.

Off-gridding is powerfully subversive. It sidelines the politicians, which on any issue can only be a great thing, and it severs the financial claw-grip of the monopolistic power companies and dooms them to irrelevance. Wonderful stuff.

But let’s jump a few years ahead and explore the perhaps inevitable outcome of this form of guerrilla power warfare. And we don’t have to look too far ahead either.

A new residential estate is being built, it is fully self-sufficient with power, it is totally off-grid. It has massive battery storage capability, probably under the park. It has power to spare. It doesn’t need monopolistic power generation companies, nor does it need coal-fired power stations.

You own a lovely little turn of the century workers cottage in Brisbane, Sydney, or elsewhere. You retrofit it to be totally off-grid thanks to the generous subsidy you received from your recently elected progressive government. That very progressive new government, with not a coal-waver in sight, was able to subsidise your retrofit because they ended the tax-break method of buying votes and redirected the dosh into renewables and the raising of Newstart instead.

In your cottage you don’t have solar panels up on your roof, your whole corrugated style roof cladding is the photovoltaic collector. Your batteries hum along happily. You charge your little electric car at home. You no longer need the power poles outside your home, nor do you need the power companies (or the monopolistic fuel companies for that matter) or the coal-fired power stations.

You are a Queensland farmer. You moved out of cattle when lab grown meat finally got the BBQ taste thing right, and you now grow broad acre vegetables and tropical fruits. All of your buildings and barns on the farm are solar collectors. There is no home on the farm because, from your penthouse unit overlooking the ocean at Coolum Beach, you manage your automated farm machinery via satellite uplink and download.

The endless miles of power poles that used to service your farm have been sliced up and used as fence posts to keep out the feral cats and rabbits. You no longer need the power generation companies or the coal-fired power stations.

You are a big City CBD developer. A mini-Trump. You are hoisting up the latest version of the tallest building ever built. The entire external cladding of that building, and every external sheet of glass on that building, is a photovoltaic collector. You have massive battery storage capacity in the basement. You are fully off-grid. You have more power than your building can possibly use. You love power, and now you have plenty of both forms of it, the visual and the volts. You don’t need the generation companies or the coal-fired power stations.

You are a manufacturing and engineering company. You need power to run your machines and buzz-up the artificial intelligence systems that control your mainly robotic but occasionally human workers.

(I’d like to insert my own personal gripe here: back in 2014 when Elon Musk open-sourced his electric vehicle technology, the idea was put out there to take over the abandoned motor vehicle factories in South Australia and Victoria, and utilise the open-sourced technology to crank out sub-compact little electric buzz boxes, mainly by automated robotic means, and export them to Asia in huge numbers, and create at least some new jobs for the dumped on the unemployment queue car workers, and build up some sovereign wealth for the nation as a whole.

The politicians here did their usual vision-less best and we are now faced with the situation where every manufacturing person and his poodle around the world are cranking out those little buzz boxes and are seeking to export them to us. We didn’t quite come up to the mark as an Innovation Nation did we?)

But back to your manufacturing company. The power costs in the past kept you teetering on the edge of insolvency, the bills were that huge. But as part of your social compact with the people in your region, in which you will provide jobs for local humans where possible and donate part of your profits back for the well-being of your surrounding community as a whole, you receive their excess unused power for free. Social bartering at its best. You don’t need the monopolistic companies or the coal-fired power stations either.

And so the future unfolds, and the future in power is writ large.

At the start of the insurgency the federal government lacked a cohesive vision, and the monopolistic power companies were ruled by untrammelled greed, and they all fought a long and bitter rearguard action to try to stop the dawning of a new power generating reality. But the grass roots revolution was unstoppable, and even Blind Freddy could have predicted that the Guerrillas would win.

There are questions yet to be answered. In this article I’ve simply used the example of power generated by solar means. Perhaps others have answers to the following:

  • Wind, geothermal, hydro, and other unlisted forms of renewable energy tend to be generated in regions isolated from our main urban areas. That power still needs to be delivered to the market. To remove the blight of the poles and wires on our visual landscape does the mechanism of transmission, wires or otherwise, need to be exclusively underground? Is there another way of transporting electricity other than only by wire?
  • Mining is no different to any other form of industry. Sunrise industries come along, and sunset industries fade out. Lithium and rare-earth mining are examples of sunrise, iron ore mining is an example of something we may well always need, and coal mining is an example of sunset.

So, how do we as a society not lose the inherent skills of coal miners? How do we not repeat the mistake we made of letting the skills of our car manufacturing workforce end up on the scrapheap of unemployment? How do we, again as a society, transition that able coal workforce into the direction of the coming unstoppable sunrise?

  • If vote buying tax breaks are ended and redirected into renewables, and if corporate tax-paying power generation companies no longer exist to contribute to government coffers, then what cunning new strategies will our crafty politicians devise to keep pulling money out of our wallets? Perhaps they’ll devise a new tax based upon the square area of solar arrays on our properties? I wouldn’t put it past them to try and tax our very share of the Sun.
  • Farm automation is happening now. In the future, how will regional farming communities retain their populations when the need for on-farm workers has greatly diminished?
  • China and Europe are currently in the vanguard of nations producing sub-compact electric vehicles. Australia produces all the metals and rare earths that go into the makeup of an electric vehicle, but we seem wedded to the idea of exporting the raw materials and importing the completed product.

So the question is … why can’t we reverse engineer one of the imported sub-compacts, let alone actually read Musk’s open source documents, and start building them here for export? We have such an incredible advantage with all the necessary raw materials sitting under our very feet. We need something desperately in this country … leaders with vision!

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

The Australian Dark Age

Can you imagine a dystopian future Australia ruled by an extremely conservative and fundamentalist religious government with attendant undertones of fascism and racism thrown in just to round things off?

Well, twenty years ago I tried to do just that, and I wrote a short screenplay called Perfidon – The New Dark Age.

It was a purposefully dark little idea about the worst set of unlikely circumstances that could possibly befall Australia, and not for a second did I think that it would remotely come within a bull’s roar of becoming a reality in my own lifetime.

Perfidon was a made-up variation of the word perfidious: treachery and bad things and all of that. Perfidon was the name of a prison, and it was a very bleak, cold, and isolated place indeed. It was the sort of place you got sent to if you were not a herd-follower, and you definitely got a spot in that clink if your brain thought for itself and did not have the government mandated consistency of a soft compliant sponge.

The mass of the population in that imagined Australia was cowed and fearful and terminally gullible, and they were well trained to report on anybody who transgressed against either the paramount political ideology or the paramount faith of the time.

In the screenplay it was not hard to come up with a handy list of the expected transgressors. Unionists, atheists, scientists, independent academics, anyone of the left, anyone of a different faith, the pursuers of social justice, the poor and disadvantaged, anybody with a variation in skin tone, anybody who loved or lived with somebody of their own gender, and the variantly opinionated free thinkers … they were all potential targets to be reported upon under the imagined they are not of us regime.

In that imagined Australia people had to be very careful about what they said, and who they said it to. But free thinkers being free thinkers, and unionists being perennial pursuers of the common good of the workers, and social justice types being social justice types, and uncowed people being uncowed people … all meant that in the story they could not help but stand up and refute the reigning ideology of that future time, and therefore outed themselves as excellent targets to be reported on.

The cowed masses, fearful, and hopeful of currying favour, turned up in droves to be the hopefully well rewarded dobbers. Inevitably, as duly reported upon Reportees, the transgressors were dragged off the street, or out of their homes, and dumped into the unwelcoming maw of Perfidon. Gosh, it was a dark little screenplay.

Then it got worse. Because the Reportees never, ever, returned from Perfidon.

At that point I sort of lost my way with the idea. Couldn’t quite figure out how to end it. So it got dumped into the I’ll think about that later file. Guess what? Later has arrived with a vengeance.

I don’t have to dust off the old Perfidon idea because our current Coalition Government is writing their own updated version of that old unpublished screenplay as they go along. Does any of the following sound familiar to you?

  • Attack and demonise the unions.
  • Attack anybody who holds a different ideological, or political, or religious, slant.
  • Do the Spartan thing and expose the poor the unemployed and the disadvantaged on the unforgiving hillsides of degradation, demonisation, poverty, and starvation.
  • Reward the compliant and attack the free thinkers and opinion holders.
  • De-fund or muzzle non-compliant non-religious community groups.
  • Ignore the Judiciary and grant ever increasing national security powers into the hands of favoured Ministerial henchmen.
  • Demonise anybody who is ‘other’ and label their ‘otherness’ as a threat to the security of the nation.
  • Mute the rationality of empirical science-based evidence.
  • Attack independent free-thinking journalism and use the police forces of the state to harass and suppress any non-compliant media.
  • Use Orwell’s Newspeak as a mechanism of thought diminishment, or if that doesn’t quite grab sufficiently, simply outright lie to the gullible masses and then present truth as falsity and falsity as truth.
  • Favour religious schools, and force religious proselytising into secular schools.
  • Place the enemies of the state, the very refugees who are the collateral damage of the wars of the state, into prisons from which there is no return.
  • Pay lip service to Indigenous aspiration.
  • Protect religion via legislation and de-power humanism and secularism.
  • Sustain and promote the bigotry of hurtful free speech and demean the veracity of polite free speech.
  • Whatever the overt nature of their criminality, protect supporters and donators, and attack the whistle blowers.

People who say it can never happen here are perhaps not critically analysing the unfolding script. It is already happening here, and it is not as if the evidence is hard to find for those with eyes that can see.

Some people I know sort of laugh at me when I say that there is a battle for the heart of this nation playing out under our very inattentive eyes. But I am deadly serious with my assertion.

It is no joke to say that the Liberal and National Parties of Australia, the Coalition, have burrowed themselves deeply under the skin of far too many compliant Australians. And the Coalition has done so with the poisonous tenacity of a latched-on Paralysis Tick. The poison is circulating in the national bloodstream, and it will take an incredible effort of national will to expunge it.

The fear in our society is palpable. It is a government engendered fear. Fear of refugees, fear of the voice of the original people of this nation, fear of anybody with a skin coloured other than white, fear of the religiously different, fear of anybody who is not a herd follower, fear of the thought of difference itself, the ephemeral fear that somebody is coming to take away what we have, and fear of who we really are and what we have really become. Fear of looking in our own mirror in other words.

Our collective compliance, our collective acceptance of terrible things done in our name, our collective fear of being different and brave and strong, is gutting any chance of a better Australia.

We all have to make a decision at some point regarding what to do about the direction the Coalition Government is taking Australia in. The following assessment of the state of that decision making process is unambiguous:

Some have already made their decision with courage and heart, some are wavering under the lure of incessant tax breaks and the unsubtle pandering to aspirational greed, and the saddest part of it all is that the rest are compliant and fearfully complicit drones. Harsh perhaps, but try to prove that it is not so.

But are we prepared to actually do something about it?

I have been politely rebuked here and there for suggesting that the interminable internecine warfare and kneecapping that goes on between the ALP and the Greens needs to stop, and that both parties need to get together and form a cohesive workable coalition.

I don’t suggest such a thing just for the fun of it. There are two major coalitions competing for the favour, for the very will if you like, of the people here in Australia. One coalition is a deadly parasite on our national psyche and it is devastatingly effective at garnering electoral success, and the other coalition, or non-coalition, is a frustrating exercise in the mournful ability of the reasonably like-minded to continually self-sabotage their own progressive efforts.

One could almost scream about the pointlessness of the internecine battles between the Greens and the ALP, because meanwhile, at a higher level, the war for protecting and nurturing the soul of this nation is being lost. Those two parties, in union, are our only hope of arresting the current negative slide. Those in either party whose main motivation is primacy over the other are self-distractedly and inadvertently doing no less than a disservice to the future of this nation.

We need leaders, we need courage and strength and guts to stem the tide of extreme rightist conservatism that is currently swamping and damaging Australia. It is disingenuous of the Liberal Party to infer that their extreme rightest totalitarian rump has been muted and marginalised, the reality is that the ideology of the rump has saturated the core and has been window-dressed up as mainstream and unthreatening.

It is incorrect to say that the Coalition Government has no cohesive set of policies. The long list mentioned above is but a sample of their policy directives and they are now, with a slightly more compliant Senate, in a far better position to enact more of their agenda.

Leadership … just as Gerry Adams, Martin McGuiness, and Ian Paisly had to step away from everybody else who was clamouring for their ear and reach a workable solution to their collective Irish troubles, then I think that Anthony Albanese and Richard Di Natale need to step above individual party interests and combine their efforts in the interests of a far greater national good.

And the answer, to my mind, lies in both the political and the personal.

At the personal level people wonder what it is that they could possibly do to bring about positive change. In my case keyboard protests have their value, and I use that avenue because words can have power and can influence opinion, but their reach, certainly in social media circles, is often limited to the already sympathetic or already cause-converted. Like anybody else I have struggled with the question of how to convert such thoughts into action.

I remember the power of the March Australia marches against the excesses of the Abbott Government from a couple of years ago. Those Marches dragged me off my verandah, away from my keyboard, and out onto the streets. They dragged an awful lot of people out onto the streets. From that experience I went on to organise a civil rights rally in, of all places, Gympie, and I went on to deliver a speech in support of welfare recipients at a rally in Brisbane. None of that saved the world but it was an example of one individual stepping outside the comfort zone of his own dronish compliance.

Imagine if we all did something like that?

I also learnt something from a solo protest I undertook two years ago. In order to protest against a mega-development by Sekisui at Yaroomba Beach here on the Sunshine Coast I grabbed a Save Yaroomba Beach type sign and planted my feet firmly on a wide divider in the middle of the road with traffic whizzing around me from every direction. Got a lot of honks that day, mostly supportive, but I’m so light it’s a wonder the wind draft didn’t spin me round like a top.

The police turned up eventually and, with grace and humour and style, two of them shunted my geriatric bones across to the footpath. I learnt that it is easy to shunt one person, but I reflected on the fact that it is almost impossible to shunt 10,000.

I really think we are getting to the point, or perhaps we are already past it, where all the talking about the ills of this Coalition Government is going nowhere, it is fast becoming an example of truthful opinion circulating like hot air around itself.

Concerted legal and peaceful action needs to begin, both at the political and personal level.

At the political level it may require something we have rarely seen here in Australia. The Greens and the ALP seek to progressively advance Australian society through the mechanisms of the party system and parliamentary processes. Well and good, generally tried and true, but it isn’t currently working.

The streets are there. The streets are waiting.

It is done elsewhere around the world so is it so unthinkable to suggest that the leaders of our progressive parties should call the people out onto the streets to peacefully protest en masse?

Will it cost them votes in some quarters? Yes, it will. Is it time they moved on from that worry and stood up for the principles they espouse? Yes, it is.

In the past groups like March Australia, Lock the Gate Alliance, Refugee advocates, Amnesty, various environmental groups etc have taken the lead in organising peaceful mass street demonstrations, and the odd progressive politician has turned up for the photo opp. I’m suggesting that the leaders of the ALP and the Greens call for, organise, and lead peaceful mass street rallies in all our capital cities and main regional areas to protest against the insidious agenda of our openly right wing, and increasingly suppressive, government.

To anybody who might think that I’m being slightly over the top here all I can say is the following … the water is in the pan, it is currently lukewarm, and we are the frog. Also, the mass of the population under the old Weimar Republic thought that the totalitarian ‘jobs and growth’ mantra was a wonderful thing, until they learnt at great cost to themselves and others that it wasn’t when economic crisis and political instability led to the collapse of the republic and the rise of the Third Reich.

We certainly need to cut through, and simply waiting for the three-year electoral cycle to grind over is not providing it, and peacefully taking to the streets under a clearly defined joint political banner may well be the only way to truly achieve it.

For putting forward this proposal I may well be called many things by the ideologically invested and the compliant, well water off a duck’s back and all that. I could not even remotely be called a radical, I am an average old age pensioner Australian, and what I see happening to our country, and the apathetic response to those events, worries me deeply.

A female friend of similar age suggested to me the other day that once you get past 60, especially if you are a woman, but also if you are a man, you become invisible to society. There is truth in that. But it is also truthful to say that people of our vintage have seen an awful lot over the course of our lifetimes, and we know some of the lessons of past history.

Our parents were of the generation that had to physically combat, and in many cases lose their lives, to stem that last terrible flowering of rightist suppression, and because the events of that time unfolded so fast they were not afforded the time or the luxury to get in early with peaceful mass street protests. We have the luxury, and at the moment, a slowly but accelerating diminishing amount of time.

People sort of jokingly say that it is all hopeless here and that we should all emigrate to New Zealand or something. Well nope to that. We should stand firmly on our ground, and firmly claim it. We should fight the rightist move in Australia before it gets a chance to develop further and truly flower.

But I don’t want to be one of one. I want to be one of 10,000, or 50,000, or 100,000, or 500,000, or one million. I would like to see the coalition of the Greens and the ALP call the people out onto the streets to peacefully protest against what this Coalition Government is doing to our country. This nation that we love and cherish is more than bloody well worth fighting for.

Perfidon was simply meant to be a story. It was an exercise in imagination banged out on an old manual typewriter. That’s all it was ever meant to be. I never thought I would see it unfolding as a reality in my own Australian lifetime.

Image from independent.co.uk (AFP/Getty )

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

 

The front row of Australian race relations …

It could have just been a normal weekend. But it wasn’t. A friend invited me down to Brisbane to see the one woman show called My Urrwai by Ghenoa Gela. It all unfolded from there.

(Show Blurb: My Urrwai is a revealing window into culture, and an unflinching comment on race relations in Australia. As a contemporary comic, dancer, mainland Torres Strait Islander woman, Ghenoa reflects on and celebrates her cultural and familial inheritance and invites audiences into her world to experience the interplay of the political, social and colonial expectations she dances with every day).

The show confronted me on many levels. Ghenoa was funny, bitingly intelligent, and gently caring of the front row fodder that she hauled up onto the stage to participate in various parts of the show. She talked about many things: the culture-killing affects of missionary zeal, the pressure from police to ‘keep your Indigenous mouth shut’, the treatment of Indigenous and Torres Strait Islander people in Australian commercial retail outlets, and beyond the issue of race itself, the way we all, as human beings, treat each other.

Front row fodder. That’s an interesting one. My friend didn’t think twice about sitting in the front row, better view and all that, but I died a million deaths of agoraphobic induced anxiety as I plonked my butt in the comedic danger zone. Long story short, if you have read My Testimony you’ll get my drift. Happy ending however, we were not singled out or stage-fronted, though it might have proved interesting.

I couldn’t see the leadership group of the One Nation Party from where I was sitting. Perhaps they were avidly enjoying this show against overt racism from somewhere up in the back row?

So here am I, with my story, in the front row listening to the life story of a mainland Torres Strait Islander woman, sitting next to my friend who has her own story, and surrounded by an audience of people who all have their own individual stories. If you look at it this way, which I did, that room was full of stories, with most of them perhaps, left unsaid. But it was Ghenoa’s day, and she carried it magnificently.

It also made me think about race relations here in Australia. And it made me think about raw meat. Huh … you might think, what’s the connection there?

Well, apart from attending Ghenoa’s show, my friend and I pretended that we were very rich people and we attended a couple of restaurants in the two evenings we were in Brisbane. One was the venerable Greek Club in West End, and let’s face it, Greek cooking with bouzouki music trilling in the background is nothing short of nirvanic.

The other restaurant was French. I had Tartare de Boef. As a person well known to be a tad slow on the spontaneity uptake, I decided to break the mould, go for broke, and dive willingly into a plate of what was essentially a mound of raw minced beef with a raw egg dribbled all over it. It was delicious. But, again, it made me think about race relations here in Australia.

What are we all if nothing but a sack of bones and raw meat with a brain pan wobbling precariously on the top. We are all the raw meat of the human race. The only species of human on this planet.

Some will beg to differ with that opinion, and they will point out that if you can stomach listening to some of the pronouncements coming out of our current government then you are hearing living proof that Neanderthals are still amongst us. I get a sense of the truth of all that, but I can imagine Neanderthals rightly saying … hey, how dare you drag the memory of us down to the low levels of wallowdom where those government bods lurk … so apologies to the Neanderthals.

The weekend wasn’t all food fest and show, however. We also went to the markets. We had a couple of conversations there with stall holders. One stall holder was of Taiwanese origin. The other stall holders were an Indigenous couple.

The young Australian Taiwanese man was probably the happiest person I have ever met. He made jewellery. He visited Taiwan annually and stocked up on raw gemstones and then came back to Australia and polished them up and made his jewellery to sell at the markets. He loved living in this country, and when he described how it felt to be an Australian living in Queensland his grin was infectiously wider than the Grand Canyon.

He obviously loved people and he treated both of us as randomly and happily well-met fellow human beings. I got the sense that he didn’t see himself as Asian, and he didn’t see us as Anglo-Celts, all he saw were two human beings. Other people in Australia are not as advanced as that young man.

We were then attracted to an art stall run by an Indigenous couple. Yes, we bought some of their art, but then the conversation started. We talked for over an hour. Recognition, The Voice, race relations, historical wrongs, how human beings treat each other through the veil of race, were all discussed over that market stall table.

Remember earlier where I mentioned that everybody has their own story. Well, though I pitched in to the conversation with my own thoughts on the matter of Australian race relations, largely I listened. Because that Aboriginal couple wanted to share their story. They wanted to be heard. They had a lot to say.

In that one hour they talked about the beauty of being part of the oldest contiguous culture on this planet. They were both artists and they expressed their joy at having the artistic ability to express the stories of their culture in drawn and painted form. And they talked about the weight of sorrows that they and other Indigenous Australians carry each and every single day.

Not once did they attack us personally. Not once did they say it was our fault. Not once did they treat us as anything other than well-met fellow human beings. They saw two human beings willing to listen and they were prepared to tell us their story.

How can you distil the raw meat of a conversation? Not all of the following words were said, some were implied, but they are certainly all of the words of the story and of the message that I heard, and they get down to the nub of it all … those with the muskets didn’t listen to us then, they shot and they poisoned and they killed us as they grabbed our land, and they still aren’t listening to us now, and they still carry their musket of suppression with pride.

Perhaps all of that shows how little things have really changed over the last couple of centuries here in Australia.

Is Australia a racist country? The following questions have an answer that begins with a Y too. Is the Pope a Catholic? Does the sun rise every morning? Is snow cold? Does the earth spin?

Racism is not unique to Australia, racism is global, but it is Australia that is being discussed here. Australia is peopled by human beings from all over the world. Some come from Asia, some from Europe, some from Africa, some from South America, some from all points in between, and some have been here 60,000 years longer than all of the rest of us. But human beings all.

It is easy to fall into the trap of moralising when you discuss matters as huge as racism, so it pays to keep your succinct opinion succinct. So here, in short version, is what I think …

There is only one race on this planet. The human race. So it is disturbing that some members of the human race vent hatred on others who are exactly the same as themselves. Self-hatred is never a good thing.

Also, we generally don’t learn much by talking, we learn far more by listening. In Australia, the Indigenous voice is largely not yet screaming at us in anger, it is still at the polite stage of asking us to respectfully listen to the story. But like anything else, patience eventually runs out.

It could have been a normal weekend. But it wasn’t.

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

The dysfunctional Australian Welfare System needs to be scrapped

Whether you are rich, or poor, the one thing you have in common here in Australia is the fact that you are a Welfare Recipient. The Australian welfare system is a prime example of where the bulk of the sovereign wealth of a nation is distributed to those who need it least, and denied to those who have a demonstrated need of requiring it the most.

The current debate about the raising of Newstart totally blindsides the much bigger conversation that is assiduously avoided by both of our major political parties, and by the bulk of Australians who are the recipients of government welfare largess.

This article has not been written to attract a quick ‘Click’. It has been written to start a very sharp conversation about how disadvantaged welfare recipients are treated in this country. It has been written to expose the inherent unfairness underwriting our system of welfare, and it proposes an alternative to a welfare system that damns and demonises and punishes those who are in no position to protect themselves.

Our current Welfare System is not fit for purpose. It favours the rich and the comfortably off with generous tax breaks and concessions and facilities such as negative gearing (yes, those are an absolute form of gifted welfare), and it punishes the poor and unemployed by keeping them well below the poverty line via the government’s purposefully engineered low level of the Newstart Allowance. We have a welfare system that systematically fails the very people it is supposedly there to support.

If you have never been unemployed or poor I can understand that you may well have the capacity to empathise with the plight of disadvantaged welfare recipients, but unless you have been unemployed or poor there is one thing you cannot possibly know from an experiential point of view.

To be continually demonised and judged by your own government and your own society, to hover on the point of starvation, to see the total weekly amount received under your Newstart falling dismally short of the average price asked for shelter in the rental market, to live your life ridden with anxiety and the fear of the withdrawal of your benefit, is but a small taste of what it feels like to be a welfare recipient in contemporary Australia.

I’m about to throw a lot of fiscal figures your way with sources listed at the end of the article. I don’t pretend for a second that they are all encompassing, they are a rough guide. If progressive or conservative think tank economists waste time picking apart the minutiae of the figures it will simply evidence that they are missing the sharper end of what the conversation is really all about.

Social security and welfare represent 35 per cent of the Australian Government’s expenses. The Government estimates that it will spend around $191.8 billion in 2019-20. This category of expenditure includes a broad range of payments and services including pensions and Newstart.

Welfare Bill Total: $191.8 billion.

Now we’ll look at the issue of tax breaks, a continual form of welfare largess that the government showers onto middle- and high-income earners. Prior and existing tax breaks and concessions cost the budget $135 billion each year. That figure is more than the four main welfare payments — the aged pension, family assistance payments, disability benefits and Newstart combined. Bear in mind also that the 2019 tax breaks are not included in that figure.

Welfare Bill Total: $326.8 billion

Negative gearing is a welfare gift. It costs the public purse approximately $11 billion a year.

Welfare Bill Total: $337.8 billion

The cost of administering the JobActive (old Job Network) Unemployment Industry organisations cannot be ignored. Those costs are aligned with welfare and come directly out of the budget. Running that punitive system costs $1.5 billion per year.

Welfare Bill total: $339.3 billion

The Coalition’s current round of tax cuts favour the well off and ignore the poor. The third-tier tax breaks for high-income earners is projected to be more than $88 billion under the Coalition’s plan.

Welfare Bill Total: $427.3 billion. That is sufficient for the proposal that is about to be made in this article.

The following hits to the overall Australian ‘welfare’ budget have not been included:

There are a myriad number of commercial or not-for-profit Registered Training Organisations (RTOs) that raze the public purse by supplying training and skill courses to the unemployed. Some courses have value, some are woefully tick and flick sub-standard. Some of those RTOs are a little too closely associated with some JobActive providers. Some RTOs do a good job, some simply have an appalling and unprofessional level of training delivery. Either way, it costs the ‘welfare’ budget. Why TAFE is not universally utilised to provide quality training for the unemployed and disadvantaged remains beyond comprehension.

Much welfare largess is also doled out, albeit probably unwillingly, to large corporates national and international, who continue to manage to minimise tax, or pay no tax at all. Nor have all of the other welfare ‘concessions’ such as franking credits, family trusts, etc been explored. But surely we’ve now hit the point where an alternative to our current welfare system will not only be cheaper, but would probably also be better for the soul and the psyche of our nation.

An alternative scenario to the current Australian Welfare System …

Australia has an estimated population of 25.20 million. Of that number, 15.7% are aged over 65, 65.5% are aged between 15-64 years and are deemed to be the working-age population, and the remainder are children under the age of 15 years.

Which means that Australia has 20,462,400 citizens above the age of 15 years.

It is important to note that the bulk of citizens aged 15-17 years old are not working, they are in high school. ABS figures show that the national number of full-time equivalent students in the last three years of high school totals out at 739,248 (excluding the NT & ACT because the numbers there are minimal).

That leaves us with a number of 19,723,152 Australian citizens who are the potential beneficiaries of a new way of distributing Australia’s sovereign wealth.

However, when is enough money to live on – enough money to live on? Many people, it could be argued, have sufficient weekly income to meet normal living expenses. The average Australian worker does not earn between $1,250-$1,499 per week. Here are some interesting statistics …

Number of workers who earn between $1250-1499 per week: 1,089,739

Number of workers who earn between $1500-1749 per week: 922,803

Number of workers who earn between $1750-1999 per week: 638,973

Number of workers who earn between $2000-2999 per week: 961,768

Number of workers who earn $3000 or more per week: 596,521

That totals out at 4,209,804 Australians who do not necessarily need the extra added income inflow of gifted welfare and tax concession dollars. The actual number is higher than that, but it is almost impossible to source numbers for those retirees who are independently wealthy over and above what would be considered to be normal levels.

That leaves 15,513,348 working-age or older Australians who earn less than $1250 per week.

Current unemployed welfare recipients are expected to survive on a Newstart rate (for singles) of $277.85 per week. If they are able to claim the maximum rental assistance rate of $68.60 per week then they have the total of $346.45 per week to try and survive on. Since the median rental rate in the cities is $465 per week, and in the regions is $378 per week, the assertion that welfare recipients are starving below the poverty line is a fact, a deed, and a brutal reality. It is beyond the level of a national shame, it is nothing short of unforgivable.

All of this shows that a Universal Basic Income (UBI) of $25,000 for all individual Australians who earn less than $1250 per week is a far better way of equitably distributing the sovereign wealth of this nation to the people who need it most.

The UBI would cost $387.8 billion. The current welfare bill in Australia is over $427.3 billion. The UBI will save the economy more than $39.5 billion per year. The tax breaks and concessions to people who don’t remotely need them must stop.

Any of the figures provided above can be challenged, I reiterate that they are but a guide, and alternative figures can be provided.

What cannot be challenged is the fact that our current welfare system is dysfunctional. What cannot be challenged is the fact that genuine welfare recipients who are in need of assistance to rise above the starvation levels of enforced poverty, are continually robbed of that chance by people who have no need to receive the level of welfare largess that they do via government provided tax breaks and concessions.

The current welfare system in Australia needs to be dismantled from the top down. Implementation of the UBI will eradicate poverty for the majority of poor and disadvantaged people in Australia. Implementation of the UBI will benefit the economy because all recipients of the UBI will gain spending power, something highly beloved by both politicians and economists.

The UBI will replace all current forms of pension. Will the UBI be tax-free? Yes. Will Rental Assistance still be available for UBI recipients? Yes. Will NDIS services still be available for those UBI recipients who need them? Yes.

What will cease to exist under the UBI? The JobActive network. Mandatory reporting for UBI recipients. Vote buying tax breaks. The Unemployment Industry as a whole. Negative gearing and other tax concessions. The demonising of the poor.

It is important to remember that the UBI Grant is based upon the circumstances of the individual. If you are single and earning under $1250 per week you receive the grant. If your partner earns over $3000 a week and you earn under $1250 per week, you get the grant, and they don’t.

The UBI will raise questions. What about youth who cannot live at home? Should UBI recipients, as a condition of grant receipt, be expected to volunteer to work 2 days per week in a local community organisation close to their place of residence? To anybody raising such matters my challenge to you is this – find a positive solution to your question under the umbrella of the UBI.

Implementation of the UBI is simply a fairer way to go.

The howling may well begin from those who stand to lose something that in all reasonableness they should never have been in receipt of in the first place. So be it. It is beyond time that a sharp conversation on the dysfunctional nature of the Australian welfare system was introduced into the national discourse.

In summation: The sovereign wealth of this nation is continually wasted because it has always, devoid of any sense of mutual obligation, been handed across to those who don’t need it, and it has been continually denied to those who do.

Sources and Quotes

$191.8 billion:

Social security and welfare represent 35 per cent of the Australian Government’s expenses. The Government estimates that it will spend around $191.8 billion in 2019-20. This category of expenditure includes a broad range of payments and services including:

  • most income support payments such as pensions and allowances (for example, Newstart)
  • family payments such as Family Tax Benefit
  • paid parental leave pay
  • child care fee assistance payments
  • funding for aged care services
  • funding for disability services and
  • payments and services for veterans and their dependents.

Public debate over the cost of welfare often focuses only on cash payments to working age people such as unemployment benefits and the Disability Support Pension (DSP) but these payments only represent around 17 per cent of welfare expenditure as presented in the budget. (Parliament of Australia: Michael Klapdor and Don Arthur, Social Policy)

$135 billion

Anglicare commissioned Per Capita to crunch the numbers on how much tax concessions cost the budget relative to welfare. They found that major tax concessions totalling $135 billion per year were costing the budget more than the four main welfare payments – the aged pension, family assistance payments, disability benefits and Newstart combined. They used Treasury data, as well as various ABS figures and the University of Melbourne’s HILDA survey. (ABC News March 2018)

$11 billion:

Head of the Grattan think tank John Daley says Australia’s version of negative gearing, along with the capital gains tax discount, costs the public purse $11 billion a year. (news.com.au 2016)

$1.5 billion

The Jobactive system costs the Australian public more than $6bn over four years. It needs to provide value for money,” said Terri Butler, the shadow spokeswoman for employment services ($6bn /4 = $1.5bn) (The Guardian Jan 2019)

$88 billion:

The third tier tax breaks for high-income earners is projected to be more than $88 billion under the Coalition’s plan (figures from The Guardian May 2019)

25.2 million population figures:

As of this year, 2019, Australia has an estimated population of 25.20 million. (World Population Review) Of that 25.20 million: 15.7% are aged over 65, 65.5% are aged 15-64 years and are deemed to be the working-age population, and 18.8 % of the overall population are children. (Australian Bureau of Statistics)

739,248 full-time equivalent students:

Schools, Australia, 2018. Table 43a – Full-Time equivalent students, States and Territories. (Australian Bureau of Statistics)

Individual incomes over $1,250 per week:

Source: Australian Bureau of Statistics, Census of Population and Housing 2016. Compiled and presented in profile.id by .id, the population experts.

Median rent price of $436 per week:

(corelogic.com.au/news/rents-across-australia-rise-over-first-quarter-2019)

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

 

Speech is never free …

We may have a right to it, but in reality there is no such thing as free speech. The words we utter or write are never free from a follow-on consequence. Words have the power to uplift, to soar us away on the wings of imagination, they have the ability to educate, to inspire, to entertain, and they also have the power to discriminate against and maliciously wound others.

In contemporary Australia, if thoughts are tempered by reasonableness, then we appear to have a right to a limited form of free speech. However, if you happen to agree with the version of free speech favoured by the Conservative Free Screech Mob (CFSM) then you can pretty well get away with saying anything you like. You can make an absolute bastard of yourself, and generally get away with it. Which the CFSM seem to do each and every day. That is not a good thing to my way of thinking.

I’ve thought about the words I’m about to write. In my opinion they are tempered with reasonableness, which means that unlike the CFSM I am not maliciously going for anyone’s jugular. I’m simply exercising my right to free speech, however limited that might be …

The Indigenous Minister for Indigenous Affairs had hardly completed his landmark speech when the conservative supporters of a singular version of free speech promptly dived in and tried to uppercut stiffly any sort of chance of Indigenous people having any sort of real voice, any sort of way of being heard.

Those supporters, or Screechers as I see them, who also are apparently meant to be colleagues of the Minister of Indigenous Affairs, are quite capable of reading the Uluru Statement of the Heart, but they appear totally incapable of actually understanding the content.

Not sure if that last sentence above is an opinion or a fact. Actually, that’s a fib, I know exactly what I meant when I wrote the sentence. The Uluru Statement was written in English, it is a wonderful document, it speaks of the hopes of an entire people, it is eminently understandable.

Not sure also how the Indigenous Minister for Indigenous Affairs in our conservative government feels about the craven White Supremacist views of some of his colleagues, but I’m always prepared to hazard a private guess with such matters.

As ongoing beneficiaries of the land-grab invasion I think it is a little rich that our Non-Indigenous Culture continues to pontificate on whether Indigenous people, and their 60,000 years at least old Indigenous Culture, are worthy of our recognition. Seriously?

As a man of Anglo heritage, without an Indigenous friend sitting here with me to to put my words into a cultural context … I can only say what I think. For me it has never been a question of whether we should recognise Indigenous people. For me it has always been a question of whether Indigenous people have, despite everything we have done to them, enough forgiveness remaining in their hearts to recognise us. Wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to.

The scare mongering surrounding the issue of an Indigenous voice has started already. There are notable people in our community who are now actively working to undermine the Referendum before it even gets off the ground. Those people, and their efforts, are appalling. In my opinion they are White Supremacists. In my opinion they are racists. We need to fight against them and what they stand for with every fibre of our being. We need to adopt flat out support mode and pull in strongly behind the aspirations of Indigenous people.

Over the next three years it is guaranteed that the racist Anti-Indigenous fear mongers, for that is what they are, will link the issue of the Referendum with the issue of Native Title Claims. They’re coming to get your ute was just a practice run for they’re coming to get your freehold property. The attached should put nervous minds at rest. Exceptional circumstances mean just that, they are rare and they rarely happen.

On other matters Indigenous … the leader of the One Nation party said that the imminent closure of Uluru to tourist climbers shows that people do not understand the importance of tourism to the Northern Territory. I’d have thought that her words show that some people still insist on, from a great height, dropping crap all over the cultural and spiritual sensitivities of Indigenous people. I snapped the following photo on my recent desert trip, and it says heaps about the extent to which the Aboriginal voice is ignored.

I also have an opinion about the free speech issue surrounding a famous Australian rugby celebrity. Does being a celebrity of any sort automatically guarantee that one will happily saddle-bag an understanding of what empathy for the feelings of others is? Open for debate that one.

I don’t have an issue with the man himself, he is young with a life full of learning still ahead of him and I hope he gets to play football again. My interest is not about his free speech issue, my interest is with the words that were reported in the press. I have an issue with where those words came from. Those words were hurtful and divisive and maliciously wounding. Those words, even if paraphrased, came from the bible.

However weak they are we do have laws here in Australia that say you cannot discriminate or vilify or generally tear others to shreds simply because you may happen to feel like it. As a secular humanist even I will say that there is some pretty good stuff in the bible, though I do think that the best parts were filched from the earlier Confucian ideals of how to get along within society. The Confucian ideal of ‘What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others’ is but one example. It was written centuries before the bible was even thought of.

I also think that the bible contains an awful lot of malicious shite. I’m pretty sure that if the bible were newly published today the discrimination/defamation no win no fee Tort Lawyers would have a field day, and a handsome payout, if they initiated a class action on behalf of vilified groups against the publishers of such a discriminatory tome. Not against the realms of possibility that one. The payout would be enormous.

Another point to dither on with holy matters. Religious Freedom Legislation. Do we need it?

I don’t, I freed myself from the clutches of religion decades ago.

In my opinion the bulk of religious people don’t need it either. They may think differently, which is fair enough. But as far as I can see they happily pursue their religious beliefs week in and week out without nongs, or legislators, buttressing their right to do so.

So what is this legislation all about in my opinion?

It is about the negative right to discriminate against anybody who is ‘other’, backed up by an appalling piece of legislation, is what I think.

I’m not yet famous for my Spag Bol recipe, and am never likely to be, so I don’t have the shield of celebrity to protect me from the barbs that flow when you have an opinion that runs at variance to that of the Screechers. But what is the point of even a limited form of free speech unless you are prepared to get out there and exercise it.

Words have power. Words have consequence. Whether they be screeched or otherwise.

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

 

Black Uniforms …

In another time, and another place, the shirts started out Brown, then segued to Black. It appears that Australia chose to avoid an interim and simply raced to the dark side.

Black Uniforms, as worn by bureaucratic representatives of some of our government agencies, are symptomatic of something else. They are symptomatic of a creeping malaise at the highest levels of political leadership in this nation.

Uniforms generally are not worrisome. Our local footy teams wear them. Our aged care workers and nurses wear them. Our police wear them. Our defence force personnel wear them. Uniforms of all of those kinds have existed for obvious reasons since the day dot. They are part of the visual landscape, and we are well used to them.

But Black Uniforms resonate differently. Black Uniforms stand for something quite different. They don’t represent love, light, or awareness.

When the political leaders of this nation conduct press briefings on matters such as refugees or national security, all too often they backdrop themselves with the flag, and a bevy of black-uniformed bureaucratic operatives.

All of that smacks of another time, and another place.

A time when anybody who was different, anybody who was vulnerable, anybody who was an ‘other’, anybody who was powerless … was demonised as Untermensch.

The predilection of our current government to choose the dark, the black, the oppressive, and the suppressive, as the guiding light for their ideological agenda concerning the poor, the unemployed, the refugees, the homeless, the religiously different, and the politically at variant, speaks of a very dark philosophy that we thought had been eradicated from this earth at the closure of the year 1945.

Not even the most conservative governments of our past, and there have been some, chose to enact such an overt parade of such a black philosophy. This current government is doing it with such unchallenged ease.

People say that it could never happen here. People also forget the lessons of our own history.

When Francis de Groot rode up and severed with a sword the opening ribbon on Sydney’s Harbour Bridge in 1932, he did so as a representative of the New Guard, he did so as a representative of the Australian Fascist Right.

So I simply say, in this era, look at our current government. Look closely at the kind of people that head a number of key of Ministries in that government. Look at the level of power they have been given. Think about how easily the masses fell into line at the last federal election.

Then have a really long hard think about those Black Uniforms.

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

 

When the religious bullets hit …

I’ll likely end up against a church wall because I’m proposing the total de-funding of private religious schools here in Australia. It seems preposterous to me that a secular State should fund an added-on education system under-layered by the proselytising of various forms of god belief. But first a bit of context and background.

Religion means nothing to me. I’m secular and humanist. I don’t follow the dictates of any sort of bible. If I base the flow of my life on anything at all then the Desiderata foots the bill handsomely. But it wasn’t always so. I had to make a conscious decision to escape the clutches of the purveyors of the bi-polarism of eternal damnation and eternal salvation.

I’ll never forget the welcoming speech the Marist Principal gave in my penultimate year in high school in 1969. “Boys” he said, “for the last eleven years our religion has been your guiding principle, but this year we are moving on to the level of teaching you what to think. It will help you make your way in the world.” Ha … I thought his speech was absolute bullshit.

As you can gather, I was raised a catholic. Or to be more precise, they tried to raise me as a catholic. They failed dismally for a number of wonderful reasons.

Firstly, I was not born as a catholic. I was born as a human being. The grab your soul mob moved in after that and tried to convert me to their way of thinking. They wafted their incense and preached their preachings and conducted their archaic ceremonies and strange rituals … all to no lasting avail where I was concerned. I thought it was all so medieval and silly. I also thought that they rarely practised what they preached.

The only question of note I ever asked myself at the masses I was forced to attend was “Why are those men wearing floor length front-buttoned black frocks, how weird and a bit suss is all of that?”

The main reason they failed, and the main reason I dropped religion, is because I think for myself. I don’t need to live my life being told what to do, or how to do it, and I don’t need to be told how or what to think. I heard what the proselytisers had to say, I was a captive audience at the time so to speak, but I thought that their version of how things are was a total load of nonsense. Just made-up stuff with some heavy fear overlay.

Some old book cobbled together from the musings of some old zealots who’d obviously experienced far too much alone desert time was never going to supplant A Canticle For Leibowitz from the top of my reading list. Nor were the dictates of that old made-up book, in my estimation, ever going to be any sort of valid underpinning of any proportion of the curriculum of our education system as a whole. Which is why I am for the total de-funding of private religious schools here in Australia.

Faith is a belief. Faith is a private thing. Faith is not a universal given. It is nothing more than a personal choice as far as I am concerned. Anybody has the right to choose and follow a faith if they so desire. Good luck to them if it makes them happy, and I support their right to find happiness in their own way.

However, saying that Australia is a secular nation, which I do, does not light the fires, brimstone or otherwise, of the faithful. We are continually told that Australia is a christian nation, and our politicians continually parade their credentials of faith in order to gain, or not lose, votes. All so tedious, it makes them look like prats and venal happy-clapping gooses.

The ABS Census Figures state that approx 52% Australians profess to be followers of the christian faith. Well, wherever they follow it, they certainly don’t follow it into a church of any kind, because on any given Sunday, rather than plonking their butts on any kind of religious pew, they are far more likely to be found happily pissed on beer or wine at their favourite beach BBQ site. Me too, we probably all say hello to each other.

Also, according to mccrindle.com.au, less than one in seven of the Australians who ticked “Christianity” on their census form regularly attend a church of any sort. In other words, only 1.8 million Australians out of the overall number of over 25 million actively activate any sort of faith. The rest are too busy having a good secular time thank you very much.

All of which shows that statistics of can be fiddled and fudged. I often argue that Australia is a secular nation, and others argue the opposite. The figures to support either argument can always be dredged up from somewhere. But you cannot argue about the lack of bums on seats/pews thing. The majority of Australians wouldn’t know the inside of a church if you paid them.

I simply think that religion is a private matter, and I think that there is no place for it in our schools. I also happen to think that the separation of Church and State is not only a good way to go … it is the only way to go. A very good separation of both of those things protects us from the possibility of some very weird things happening … you only have to have a bit of a guage around the world to see how strange things can get when Church and State are inseparable.

I’m very uncomfortable with the way religion has insinuated itself into the organs of our body politic. I think it stinks that religious politicians have forced the religious proselytising of the Chaplaincy Program into our secular State education system. God does not exist, and the bothersomes of god belief should not be allowed past the school gate.

Such nonsense needs to stop. The children of the overwhelming majority of Australians who are actively non-religious, are continually dudded by, and exposed to, the under-resourced nature of a marginalised State education system.

I am not arguing that private religious schools do not have the right to exist. They do have the right to exist. But religion is a private matter. It should not be a State sponsored matter when the vast majority of citizens of this State vote with their bums and do not attend a church of any kind.

By all means have a private religious school if you wish. But pay for it yourself. Federal education funding should solely go to State sponsored secular schools.

I don’t hate religion. I simply think that god and religion are nothing more than made up stuff. But I can guarantee that some supporters of religion, though thankfully not the majority, will hate me and my secularism and my humanism. That’s a given when you don’t go with the flow.

If I end up against a church wall and you see me there … just before the bullets hit … throw me my last request … and make it a JPS Red. Ha … the filters on those things cut down the damaging long term affects of tar something grand …

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button

We are defined by our politics …

I rarely write about politics in Australia because so many other people from either side of the divide do it so much better, and because it is a subject matter guaranteed to cause in me an ongoing feeling of frustration and, at times, utter bloody amazement.

We have a cobbled together system of governance that combines the adversarial Westminster System with a new crassly copied American presidential way of electing our national leader. We have a debate-less Parliament where the farce of Question Time demolishes any notion of a contest of ideas.

We have a checks and balances system whereby an unruly House of Representatives, largely full of party hacks, is supposed to be kept honest by an unruly Senate, peopled also by dutiful hacks as well as an odd smattering of independent minuscule vote gatherers.

Undoubtedly there are good people in our Parliament from either side of politics, but when you look at the majority of the others, those representatives of the people, you’d have to hope that their mindset does not represent that of the Australian population as a whole.

As an Australian voter I’m well aware that I have absolutely no direct input into who becomes PM, and that the only person I am actually voting for is my local candidate. Each particular party elects its own leader. Half of us seem to have an understanding of that stark truth, but our voices are swamped by the press barons, the political parties themselves, and the commentariat, who at the last election insisted it was a but a choice between Morrison and Shorten. Forget the policy agendas … simply choose your hero and vote accordingly.

We’ve now entered an era in Australian politics where the cult of the hero, where who can prove to be the most authentic liar, where aspirational greed has been weaponised to such an effective suck-in degree, and where economic truth is blithely lied about and subsequently believed in, has left us with the reality that any notion of democracy here has been well and truly dust-binned.

People say that a small minority of undecided voters who cannot think for themselves, unless it concerns the greasing of their own wallet, continually have the final sway-say on which type of government gets elected at the end of each three-year cycle. Perhaps what people say is right.

Political parties represent their bases, and for the last six years we have had governments replete with policy indecision and guided by internally controlled groupthink. The only question of note emanating from Parliament House over the last six years is how finely honed does the assassination knife really need to be to be terminally effective?

It is said that the Westminster system of government has served us well. Really? How does a system, based on the fact that either side will automatically oppose what is proposed from the other side, serve us well?

I really do think it is time that a blast of arctic wind blew cleansingly across the flat plains of both sides of the Australian political landscape. But will that ever really happen? Probably not. It is far too predictable to forecast how the next three years of our politics will play out.

A party that claims to play up to the wish of many Australians to own their own homes will concurrently pursue an industrial relations agenda of casualisation and low pay that will ensure that home ownership remains an impossibility for far too many.

A party that vociferously states that they protect our borders from a tiny number of traumatised genuine refugees who arrive by boat, and who are no threat to anybody, will continue to ignore the number of arrivals at our airports as an inconvenient truth because of their ideological belief in the value of unending growth and jobs. Hypocrisy, demonisation, xenophobia, and inhumanity, will continue to reign supreme.

A party that proudly proclaims the strength of Australian geo-political independence will also automatically kow-tow to any request for Australia to join any newly proposed coalition of the willing. Afghanistan failed. Iraq failed. Ignorable facts when you have a demonstrated ability to not think for yourself and simply do as you are told. Our young people, and our veterans, will continue to pay the price for such short-sighted thinking.

A party that has perfected the technique of being elected without a coherent policy platform in sight will continue to pork barrel the buying of votes and the ongoing wastage of taxpayer dollars into a tiny number of marginal seats.

A party that hardly even pretends to veneer any sort of genuine environmental credential will continue to try to blindside the unstoppable growth of renewable energy, and will continue to promote the agenda of their vested interest donators. There is no satisfaction in knowing that it is a battle that they will ultimately lose, because some of the environmental damage their thinking is causing is permanent.

A party that continually damns and demonises the poor and the disadvantaged as unworthy, will continue to do so because it plays well with their base. At the same time they will continue to pursue policies that protect the rich, fool the middle-class into thinking that their hopes and aspirations are being catered to, and which are guaranteed and planned to keep the poor as a handy and blameworthy ‘other’.

The unemployed will continue to be treated as Newstart Criminals. A jailer type corporation has now been contracted to help corral the unemployed. The scent of Arbeit Mach Frei, Work Sets You Free, now overlays some of our Unemployment Industry institutions. The erosion of our freedoms is not limited to the civil liberties arena … just ask anyone who is unemployed for confirmation.

A party that professes to support the notion of free speech will continue to muzzle the press via intimidation, will continue to muffle the voice of independent thought via the creeping method of de-funding the ABC, and will continue to demonise anyone with a different political ideological bent as some sort of vague threat to national security … you can ask Bill Shorten about how that one feels.

A party, seemingly still guided by a rump of zealots, will continue to install religious proselytisers in our secular schools via the Chaplaincy Program. Indeed, reality, and practice, Australia is a secular nation … just look at the empty church pews. It is right that people should be free to practice the religion of their choice whatever that may be, and a minority of Australians do just that without bothering anyone else, but it is not right that the children of the secular majority should be exposed to religious proselytising against the wishes of their parents.

A party that promises to govern for all Australians will continue to claim a mandate and continue to ignore the wishes of the Australians whose first preference vote last time favoured the opposing group of political parties. Here’s some raw first preference numbers from the AEC …

4,752,160 ALP

3,989,404 LIBERALS

1,482,923 GREENS

642,233 NATIONALS

488,817 PALMER’S MOB

479,836 INDEPENDENTS

438,587 PAULINE’S MOB

I’m well aware that we do not have a First Past the Post electoral system, and that preferences and deals etc are the ultimate deciding factor in our system. Nonetheless, these figures do debunk a couple of currently held Australian political myths.

In a comparative sense of who their first preference is, the majority of Australians do not support the Coalition made up from a union of the Liberal and National parties. The majority of Australians actually support the Non-Coalition made up from a non-union of the ALP and the GREENS.

People say that voters are swinging in huge unstoppable numbers towards Independents and minor parties. Do the first preference figures say that? I don’t think so. The majority of Australians remain Centrist and continue to vote for the GREENS, the ALP, the Liberals, and the Nats. Personally, I wish that they’d drop the Liberals and the Nats, but the figures are what they are.

We seriously need to question a system that allows minor fringe parties, who receive such a small proportion of the first preference vote, to exercise so much power and influence over the policy agendas of the major parties who receive the overwhelming majority of the first preference vote.

I don’t have rose coloured glasses on where the side of politics I support is concerned. The adherence of the ALP to mirroring certain Coalition policies in order to not lose votes, on such matters as border protection and refugees, makes me cringe at times. I understand that these issues are very vexed, and that there is no easy solution in sight, however I do feel that when you disassociate love of fellow man from public policy agenda you’re doing a disservice to both self, and to the well-being of the psyche of the nation.

The ALP and the GREENS are not perfect, and they attract their fair share of criticism, some of which I agree with. However, I think for myself, I’m not a party hack lemming, and I have never supported the notion that one simply has to make a choice between the two of them. I embrace both. They are of one tribe as far as I am concerned. The blend of their general policy agendas is exactly what, in my opinion, Australia needs. It is why I share my vote between them.

Whatever I may think of the coalition between the Liberals and the Nats I will say this for them. They have formed an effective coalition. Despite the fact that the Libs don’t really give a toss about the bush, and that the Nats don’t really give a toss about the cities, their Coalition enables them to get elected, and re-elected. I gnash my teeth at that fact, but I accept that fact as reality.

Somewhere in all of that, in my opinion only, there is a lesson for the ALP and the GREENS. When comparing existing coalitions or existing non-coalitions, the ALP and GREENS combined receive the majority of first preference votes. When you also consider that about 54 of the ALP’s new seats in the 46th Parliament were decided by preference flows, and when you consider from which party the majority of those preferences flowed, you’d have to think that the ongoing internecine warfare and knee-capping that goes on between both parties self-defeats the greater cause of both.

Will an effective coalition ever be formed between the GREENS and the ALP? That’s like asking can you remove a party’s ego from that party’s quest for power. Parties are made up of human beings, and human beings have egos, huge ones in some cases. So only the two parties involved in this matter can provide the answer to that question.

None of which will stop me from voting for them. I believe in social justice. So do they both.

We, as a country, are at least in part defined by our politics. As I mentioned in my opening statement, I feel utterly bloody amazed at what I see unfolding daily in our political arena. It is not a happy amazement.

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

 

Through the lens of time

According to the boffins time is a linear beast that can only flow in one direction only … forwards. They may well be right. But it will probably take millennia to prove the case either way, and since I don’t have millennia to spare I thought I’d jump right in, here in the now, and explore a whimsical line of thinking about some possibilities under the passage of the old tick tock.

Is it possible, from our now, to directly observe the past? Of course it is. Is it possible, from this now, to directly observe, and even directly touch, the future? Of course it is. Such simple things happen all the time in this modern era, and I’ll explain all of that later on after I’ve had a quick coffee break, and done an even quicker brush-up of the joys of Quantum Teleportation, which has nothing to do with teleportation, the relatively happy notion of Time Dilation, as well as the sinuously inviting thought of Wormholes, with Gravitational Lensing thrown in as a teasing afterthought (if you are interested in such things check them out on Wikipedia).

But things … including time … have to start at the beginning. So why am I even thinking about time at all? Well, the other day the power steering pump on my X-Trail splotted itself, spectacularly. That meant that while it was being repaired, I had to catch a bus. Which then meant that a young lady spotted me strap-hanging on that bus and graciously offered me her seat.

She saw a wizened old prune obviously in need of seat-succouring, whereas I still see myself as a 20-year-old hippie, in a split-windscreen kombi, with the world as my oyster. I’m strong enough to admit that her view of the passage of my time was probably a tad more accurate than mine.

All of which made me reflect on the nature of time itself … not the paradoxical variations of time that time travel boffs up-knot themselves in circles about, but more the flowable bendable nature of time that we are immersed in every day.

As I mentioned, some people say that time is linear, others, like various Indigenous peoples, say that time is circular, and the Buddhists have always had an opinion on what time is …. and we could go on forever with such postulations on the nature of time. But we don’t have time to explore all of that this second.

People also say that we cannot directly view the past or the future from the vantage point of the present, the now. They are wrong on both counts there.

Each and every night we can directly view the past, from the now. All we have to do is look up and take in the starlight. Some of the stars we are viewing don’t even exist anymore, and the last gasps of the light of their terminal declines might not reach us for millions of years yet. We are viewing those stars as they once were, not as they are or aren’t now. We are directly observing the past.

Can the future be directly observed? Of course it can, and every Cosmonaut or Astronaut who has ever been into Space can attest to that fact. If you understand what Time Dilation is then you will also understand that even though the Apollo Astronauts only travelled at a tiny fraction of the speed of light, they aged at a slower relative rate compared to an observer who remained stationary back here on earth.

Because of the low speeds involved the difference in relative ageing might only be a few milliseconds, but nonetheless it means that the Astronaut is returning to a future version of earth, and can not only observe all that but can also reach out and touch another human being who, relative to the Astronaut, has segued a couple of milliseconds into the future.

To ram that point home, it is also why the clocks on Navigation Satellites have to be adjusted occasionally to stay in sync with their earthbound cousins. Satnav clocks, because of the speeds at which they whizz about, are also subject to the effects of Time Dilation, and run at a different relative rate to that of earthbound clocks. If the Satnav clocks were not adjusted then they would feed erroneous information to your car get me there system, and you would end up somewhere entirely different to where you had intended, possibly even in the harbour.

In the future, when our rockets become zip-fast, the effects of Time Dilation will compound. Milliseconds will turn into years, decades, and centuries. Future Astronauts won’t even have to bother paying off their credit card bills before they leave.

OK … so far we’ve been talking simple scientific fact, as dry as it all is. Which now leaves room for a bit of whimsy to roar in and let fly on the timescapes of time. What is whimsy? Well, it could be something as simple as a pot of left-field thought left at the base of my limbic brain after a toke of something delightful forty years ago when I actually did have a kombi. And since I can’t think of a verifiable alternative to that version of where whimsy comes from I’ll stick with it.

Whimsy … is it possible for me to look back over my shoulder, and from my present now, directly observe the Roman invasion of Britain in 43AD? You’ll soon see that I have a prime, if hopeless, motivation for wanting to do such a thing.

Of course, it is possible for me to do it. It is eminently possible. But the trouble is I’m in the wrong place to observe such a thing. I’d need to be somewhere on the other side of our galaxy with an exceptionally good telescope. Reflected earth light from 43AD has been travelling outwards from here at the rate of 299,792,458 meters per second, which translates as 9,460,528,000,000 km each and every year for the last 1,976 years.

I actually do respect the brain-punch abilities of boffins, so if anyone points out that I’ve failed to include an extra 36 zillion zeroes in my calculations then humility will reign supreme and I’ll take it all on board as a learning experience. And my old calculator, my fingers, will end up in the bin.

So, while I could in theory watch Claudius’s mob do their invasion thing, the images I want to view are 1,976 light years away from my present location, which is a mind-boggling 1.869440E+16 km away and getting further away each second. As good as it is, I don’t think the old X-Trail will get me there any time soon, and historians aren’t about to be put out of business tomorrow.

So with great sadness, and much gnashing of cultural teeth, I have to admit to myself that the lost cause redress class action I have touchingly been working on for many years on behalf of the Celtic Diaspora, both against the Roman invasion of Britain itself, and for the obvious need for some sort of reparation payment from that mob, would fail dismally in court because of my inability to supply the visual evidence of what the dastardly Legions actually got up to. I can shake my Celtic Torcs and massage the Tree of Life tattoo on my left shoulder as much as I like, but without the evidence, my case is sunk.

But is it? Can the mead of joy possibly flow from the sheep-horn once again?

This is where Quantum Teleportation drops in, and says hello Celtic Remnant type person, perhaps all is not lost after all.

Quantum Teleportation is not teleportation, bummer and alas and no beam me up Scotty and all that, but it is a method whereby data, whereby information, can transfer between two separate points of time and space at the molecular level. Huge advances in this field have been made over the last decade. At first, boffins were able to data link two points that were as much as an incredible 2 metres apart, which was huge enough, and I’m so skinny I could fit in that space easily three times over, but now they can link two points that are as much as 200 km apart, which is simply stratospheric.

And naturally enough, this Celtic Litigant is more than prepared to push the boundaries of whimsy to exponential heights, and as far beyond that as I can get them. It is but a short jump from 200 km to 1.869440E+16 km as far as I am whimsically concerned. After all, the two points don’t care where they are, we just have to work out how to link them. If it can be thought of, it can be done.

When the Beatles sang their song Across The Universe I had no idea that they were early adopters of the theories of Quantum Teleportation, no doubt neither did they through their smoke haze, but it does yet again prove how far ahead of their time they really were. That was just a thought that blew in from the timescape.

OK … so if we can data link to a point the size of a molecule that happens to be 1.869440E+16 km away from another point that is right here with us right now, and if we can somehow view what that far away other point can observe … then, ringeth the bells, I’ll win my case, and the mead can flow.

But there is always a but, and I’ve had to put the sheep-horn back on the shelf. After reading up a bit more I’ve found that Quantum Teleportation has one severe limitation, data transfer can only occur at the speed of light. It cannot happen any faster than that. So I’d still have to wait 1,976 years to view the images. Bummer, I’d be quite old by then.

Here’s where Gravitational Lensing slips into play. Gravity bends light. So … you know how rocket scientists utilise the gravity slingshot effect of massive celestial bodies, like Jupiter or Saturn, to get their rockets to end up over there, rather than over there where they were originally pointed, then why couldn’t those same scientists reverse engineer the path of earth light from 43AD as it proceeds through and gets bent around by massive objects in our galaxy, things like Black Holes and somesuch, and come up with a viewing platform a little closer to home?

My final fall-back hope is Wormholes. If we can jump from here to 1,976 light years away in the twitch of a cat’s whisker then all of the above wouldn’t need to be bothered with. I’d be there with telescope in hand and madly gathering the evidence to support the court case. Mind you, I’d probably be so sozzled with celebratory mead I could only hope that I would remember to press the record button.

As you can see … give me the merest scent of the tiniest glimmer of a razor-thin sliver of hope … and I’m more than capable of charging forward with the fire of future success blazing brightly in my heart.

Well that’s the whimsy bit done, a bit of fun. Whimsy resides on the pathways of multiple imaginings, it can never be corralled and forced to conform to the dictates of logic and reason or fact… and that is the very beauty of it.

But the other side of my brain is attuned to that other beauty, the beauty of hard science. Vision doesn’t have to exclude fact, and fact does not have to exclude vision. So …

Tell me nine times, starting afresh each succeeding time, without recursive links to previously used reasoning, why in the future the possibilities mentioned above could not be so. The frontiers of science are expanding exponentially and we discover new things every day, and our theories of things changes as our knowledge accretes.

But we are not even at the beginning, in time, even with all of our achievements to date, of as yet understanding any sort of unified theory on how anything in our Universe really, really, works, with an unassailable and guaranteed 100% certainty. But it is in our nature to find out. And if we survive long enough, as a species, then I have no doubt whatsoever that we will.

In time, what I postulate above will happen in some form or another. The Buddhists might well say that it already has.

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

 

This is my testimony. This is my life …

My name is Keith. I am 66 years-old. I am a Survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I note with simple cold detachment that a certain Cardinal’s legal team is hoping to change his circumstances, and all of that will unfold as it will. Well I, and most other Survivors, would dearly love to see our circumstances changed too. We have to spend many years of our lives seeking any sort of release from the weight of Depression and PTSD that was foisted onto us by our clerical abusers. There is no early release for us.

I have lived each and every single day of my life, from 5 years old onward, surrounded by depression and a colossal case of PTSD. The memories of the cause never leave me. So from where I stand, a couple of months for some pampered bod in a pampered jail cell is but a picnic by comparison.

The photo is of me in 1979 … depressed for 22 years by that stage, and desperately trying to pretend otherwise. Today, 39 years later, I look at my eyes in that photo, and they say it bloody all.

Survivors. We are real people. We are far more than just a 5 second vignette tacked onto the sensationalist reporting of certain high-flying court cases. We live lives that have been greatly affected by the perpetrators of childhood sexual abuse.

Who are Survivors? We are you. At birth we had the same potential as you. The potential to do great things, or nothingnesses, or the myriad of things in between. And then something happened to us. And against our choice, we became not like you.

Have you ever really wanted to say something without fear staying your hand? Powerful protected voices tend to swamp ours out. Well, not this time.

I’m dropping the fear, and I’m going to rip it all out there as bare as I can, come what may. This document is the hardest thing I have ever written … and it is doubly hard to countenance the fact that what I relate below, my history and my life, is not at all unique … it is far from unique … because too many men, women, and children out there in our society have experiences similar to mine. What an appalling indictment of our society that is.

There are some inescapable truths about how our lives have been affected. Our voices are muted, rarely heard in full, so I would like to inform you about how it feels to be a depressed recipient of clerical abuse. It is not pretty, and the living of it has been even less so. Yet, I say these things without anger, and later on I’ll explain why.

Depression and PTSD are no laughing matter. They are a scourge. I would give anything to not be a lifelong expert in such matters. The following is written for other Survivors, for people with depression from other causes, and for people who are blessedly without it. I want to challenge, and inform. On the surface it might just appear to be my history, something that I have lived, but in truth it is an Everyperson Story, it is about all of us and the things that happen within our society.

Here’s what depression feels like to me …

“Depression is a right bastard. It clings to you with the holding power of ten tons of superglue. You can’t just simply flick it off. The air and the ground of the world you are trying to walk through, and exist in, is made of dense, restricting, molasses. You cannot push your way through, and every single step meets resistance. You cannot breathe with even a touch of ease. Despite the surface face-saving appearance of brave man, everything scares you and undermines the fragility of your self-worth. It affects every single facet of every corner of your life. It affects your ability to relate to your partner, your family, your children, your friends, your workplace, yourself, and every other person you meet. It stops you from trusting everything and everyone. And that’s how depression feels to me on a light day.

None of those words confront me anymore. None of them are a surprise. Their content has rattled around within me for the last 61 years. Those words have been my life, every one of those words has been my life. As measured by psychiatrists and psychologists my abuse experiences, and the resultant effects on me, fall at the extreme end of the spectrum. As measured by me, I agree with all of that, and then some. I’m not affected by flashbacks or nightmares largely because the memories of what happened to me are simply always there. It is not as if my sub-conscious has to search around for them.

I have no intention of going into the specific details of my abuse. It was sickening for me to experience them, their frequency was unrelenting, and it would sicken you to read about them.

Also, there are some areas I will not deeply share, but they are part of the cost. I have met some outstanding women in my life, and all of those relationships were lost. Not because any of us were unwilling or unloving. I can understand, now, that it is difficult to hang in there when either side could not effectively break through the veil of my depression.

I have three beautiful children. We all love each other, and we all struggle to communicate clearly across the gulf of my depression. To the end of my days I will never stop trying.

I have three siblings. A brother, and two sisters. I cannot reach them. Costs and abiding sorrows underscore the lives of many Survivors.

For the above three reasons, let alone the abuse, I will never forgive my abusers, but nor will I ever hate them. The negative of unforgiveness is balanced out by the positive of hatelessness. Neutrality. That’s the best I can do. I’ll run with that.

Until a decade ago, I’d lived all of my life acutely aware that things were simply not happy within me. I was too shy, and too reticent to engage in any meaningful way with other human beings. Despite my best efforts I could never successfully engage with the external world, and the people within it. On the surface I bumbled along and appeared to live a regular sort of life. It took an inordinate amount of nervous energy to maintain that illusion (I am sure many people can relate to that).

I started journalism at UQ and couldn’t complete it. I started computer science elsewhere, and couldn’t complete it. I started business studies at USC and couldn’t complete it. I wanted to become a professional man, and couldn’t attain it. I could not engage effectively with the external world. The smothering nature of my memories, my fear, and my agoraphobia won.

Back in the day, back in my day, abuse victims were not helped. We were seen as an embarrassment whose experiences were never to be talked about. The Priests on the other hand, were venerated. I left the orphanage thinking that all the years of torment had been my own fault, and therefore that deep underneath, I must have been a bad sort of person, even though in opposition to that my rational mind said that, no, I was not.

Well, surprise, surprise, hello … Depression and PTSD … they sprinted in my door like malevolent banshees and enveloped me for all of the years that were yet to come.

The kicker here is that I did not know that I was deeply depressed. I did not see the lack of drive and lack of spontaneity in me that others saw writ large. I did not like the memories that I had but I simply thought that … gosh … if this is life … then it sure as heck is one mountainous shit sandwich. I couldn’t understand why, if I was at least good enough to be admitted to various tertiary courses, I never seemed to be good enough to complete them. It was all so incredibly frustrating.

It is not exactly funny how it all works folks. When you are continually abused as a young child over many years you end up thinking that you are the one who has done something wrong or bad. You then carry that unfair legacy throughout your adult life. And you end up thinking that everyone can see this badness deep within you … even if the poor sods are only trying to say hello to you. If someone treats you badly you tend to absorb it and stay mute. You end up thinking that you are simply just not good enough. Ever.

At this point it would be so very easy to choose anger over love. It would be so very easy to spew out my anger over my lost life and the meagre sentences handed down to the pampered and protected clerical perpetrators – those beggars for early release. But no to anger I think, because it consumes, and because it widens the wounds. And no to anger I think, because it will not give me back lost time, it will simply add to the total of the loss. I choose to share a positive, even though it exists in a work-in-progress state.

I am just one voice, and there are so many more out there who have never been heard. I want the following to be of assistance to fellow sufferers. I want it to help. I want it to show that hope is possible, and that there are ways out. I also want the following to inform anyone who does not have depression but may be connected to someone who does. I could not have thought the below, or written the below, or experienced the below, without the dedicated help of some very gifted people.

When I was younger, I didn’t have the faintest idea that my depression and anxiety had become, by that stage in my life, permanently habituated. It took another 30 years before I developed the guts to even look at the issue of my depression. That’s the effect unremitting childhood abuse can have on a person, as I’m sure all too many of you out there know only too well.

A decade ago, life itself decided that I’d had a gutful. My whole being bloody well gave up on it all. I had a total breakdown, could not work, could not think, could not get up out of my chair, could hardly function. It led to years of unemployment and poverty. All the nervous energy that had so poorly sustained me for decades just simply ran out. I knew, finally, that I needed help. At that stage I was diagnosed with clinical depression, the permanent variety. That diagnosis was a red rag to a bull, it stirred something in the residue of my spirit, because stuff the Catholic Church I thought, if ever there is a time to fight it is now.

After a decade of hard and confronting work with therapists, psychologists, and one outstanding psychiatrist (albeit briefly), the veil and the weight of it all has lifted a bit. Joy, and love, and friendship, have managed to partially enter the room. During that decade I lived as an absolute hermit on an old farm. I had a couple of close friends, wonderful forgiving people, but generally people-avoidance was my go. However, I found a pathway out from the worst of it all. My submarine may still be wallowing slightly under the water, and that is the realistic truth of that, but my periscope at least has found a way to stick up into brighter clearer air.

What suggestions would I pass on to fellow sufferers of Depression & PTSD?

Because I have such a steel-trap of a mind, I had determined at some point that I would push through life and tackle the legacy of my abuse all by myself. Without help. Didn’t work out too well I must say.

Such an approach failed me each and every single second, hour, day, week, year, and decade, of my life. Until roughly a decade ago I was too proud, and too swamped (and what a deadly combination those two things can be) to seek help from Lifeline, Beyond Blue, RUOK, and all the other groups and therapists who exist out there to specifically help people like me.

I am grateful that I finally decided to seek help, and that help is ongoing, and I have accepted that I was simply incapable, 50 years ago, of dealing with the fact that I had endured years of unrelenting psychological, physical, and sexual abuse. Back then it took all of my energy to keep the thoughts and memories buttoned down to what I thought was a manageable level. Truth is, nothing was manageable. Also, back then nobody really wanted to know because half a century ago you were supposed to just suck it up, and society was not geared to listen to you, or believe you. The better late than never scenario is indeed, in my case, a better late than never scenario. Thank the stars for that scenario I say.

But these days, in this modern era, people do listen, and people do believe. That didn’t save the younger me, but it opened up the possibility of relief for the older me.

So … quite clearly … don’t take the early advice I gave to myself. Don’t follow my early plan. It was a crap plan. My plan was an abject failure. It tied me to a half-lived life. Depression can become habituated to the extent that you end up thinking that it is just how life is. Well it is not how life is meant to be. Life can, whatever the limitations, be wonderful.

If you are a sufferer of depression, be different to me. Be faster than me. Be smarter than me. Start early with tackling your condition, and as hard as it is dive in and confront it, seek assistance. Good help, that works, is out there.

I am pretty objective about all of these matters. I’m not sorry for myself, whatever my limitations, and nor should you be. My old dog Zoe, a beautiful being who has dropped planet and entered Canine Valhalla, gave me mega-sympathy over the years of her life, often with undoubted cause. She didn’t judge me or ask me to spark up, she simply accepted me, and then accepted the dog biscuits in return with glee. She met all of my sympathy needs.

Writing, right now, about depression and PTSD, does not make me any braver than I normally am or not, and it does not make me any braver than you. Nor does it depress me any more than I am. I am well aware of what happened to me all of those years ago, I stuck it all on my table and had a good long hard look at it, and I am well aware, acutely aware in fact, of the legacy issues from that time that I still carry. A lot of sufferers carry these awarenesses and legacies. I simply hope that talking about my experiences, and about the sorely needed ray of light that has come in over the last decade, will encourage others in a similar situation to seek help.

In the end, what is it that I really want to say? Well, I understand that Depression & PTSD can be caused by many different circumstances and happenings in life. Mine was caused by childhood sexual abuse. That causality is native to me. Your causality is native to you, whether it be domestic violence, bullying, racial vilification, war memories, or something else. The absolute given, however, is the fact that depression does not differentiate on cause. If a situation opens the door for it, it will dive in with a bloody vengeance.

If your depression was caused by childhood sexual abuse, I cannot make any universal redress recommendations. We all have to look deep within before making that decision. All I can relate is that, since my perpetrators were long dead, I took legal action against the orphanage where I was domiciled, and against the Catholic Church. For me, their response to my legal action against them constituted yet another example of abuse. No surprise there.

If you, the readers of this, are blessedly free from depression, and have a friend or family member who is not … I implore you to do the following … understand them, love them, do not judge them, don’t tell them to just get over it, don’t walk away from or dismiss them, and use every fibre of your being to encourage them to seek help. You might be the one who makes a hell of a difference in their lives. It may end up being the best thing you have ever done.

To my fellow sufferers: I am a 66-year-old man. I’m a human being who has handled life as best he could. I’ve done some good things, and I’ve made my share of mistakes. I finally decided to tackle my lifelong unwanted gift of Depression & PTSD. It took hard work, and I will not kid you about that, and there is more work to come, and I won’t kid you or myself about that either … but it has enabled me to, after such a long time, and with some serious heavy-duty help along the way, again have at least some deep air in my lungs, and again have some joy, and some love, and some humour in my heart. I can now experience some forms of that thing called happiness. I wish the same, or much better, for you.

Summation: Survivors. We are real people, and we live our lives as best we can despite the limitations that were placed upon us. I believe that all Survivors are amazing people, living examples of the indomitable nature of the human spirit when faced with adversity. What I have written is not just about me, like all Survivors I’m a work in progress. It is about all of us. It is about our society and what happens within it.

Keith Davis is a citizen journalist. He is an implacable foe of social injustice, and he is a strong believer in the inevitable implementation of a Universal Basic Income in Australia. He has a varied background, including print media publishing, not-for-profit group administration, and Indigenous sector project management. He fully supports the notion of Treaty. He writes from the heart, believes that whimsy and thoughts out of left-field have at least as much power as logic and reason, and does not limit himself to any one particular topic or theme.

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

A Prod from the Deep North

Most of us bumble along from week to week. Each week has its thought points, and things done or things to do. I’ve bumbled along over the last week, here in Qld, here in the best State in the Federation, doing an excellent job of avoiding all of the things that I was supposed to do. Which left me time to notice a few things …

I notice that the Adani Mine is being promoted despite polls showing that the majority of the Australian population are against the approval. The trite national press is presenting it as a battle between the Yokel Qld, Us and the Progressive Southern Them, and that, quite frankly, is just a load of hogwash. It is a smokescreen blown out there to hide the fact that the majority of people do not want their taxpayer dollars gifted on a grand scale to prop up an uneconomic mine. Those soon to be wasted dollars would be better off spent sheltering the homeless and raising Newstart.

I notice that the appeal against the approval of the Sekisui mega-eyesore-resort at Yaroomba Beach here on the Sunshine Coast (yep … in the best State in the Federation) is slotted to be heard later this year in the Planning and Environment Court. In case you don’t know there were a record number of community objections against this multiple high-rise edifice, yet the Sunshine Coast Council flew in the face of sanity and community wishes and approved it. It brings up questions about the power of money to influence outcomes. It brings up questions about the power the Development Lobby still has here in Qld. It brings up questions about a certain legacy issue pertaining to Sekisui House … a particular $50,000 donation. Queensland, beautiful one day, covered in concrete the next.

I notice that Religious Freedom Legislation is raising its head again. I don’t need it. I freed myself from religion years ago. When you think about the fact that the overwhelming majority of Australians don’t attend Church then you are left holding the word Secular in your hands.

I notice that Ken Wyatt is the first Indigenous Man to be promoted to head Indigenous Affairs. I wish him well in his role. I hope he has the oomph to carve through and make a real difference. I hope his colleagues in government don’t get in his road. That latter hope is a pretty forlorn one.

As for the above photo … it was used to illustrate an article I wrote about Machine Intelligence (AI) and the implications for humanity. With a bit of thought-twisting it could just as easily have been used to describe the outcome of the last federal election. We now have dullard party machine-men in charge with intelligence copiously conspicuous by its absence. A lot of us got what we didn’t vote for. Greed trumped humanity.

Did I mention that Queensland is the best State in the Federation? Out of my window I can see blue ocean, blue sky, warmth, semi-tropical green (yeah, OK … some concrete too), and all sorts of interesting progressive type people milling about. If you live south of the border you are welcome to pop up and visit, and it cannot be said often enough, the best State in the Federation!

Keith Davis is a citizen journalist. He is an implacable foe of social injustice, and he is a strong believer in the inevitable implementation of a Universal Basic Income in Australia. He has a varied background, including print media publishing, not-for-profit group administration, and Indigenous sector project management. He fully supports the notion of Treaty. He writes from the heart, believes that whimsy and thoughts out of left-field have at least as much power as logic and reason, and does not limit himself to any one particular topic or theme.

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Donate Button

Endgame: Machine artificial intelligence and the implications for humanity

I’m not a scientist, or a computer coder. I’m capable of confusing a Byte with a chomp, and the only subject on which I am an expert is the parlous state of Rugby Union here in Australia. I do, though, like to muse on issues that tend to lurk just beyond the peripheral vision of our society. Artificial Intelligence, AI, is one of them. As stated, I’m not a tech-nerd type, and I’m always partly serious and partly not, so here’s my possibly quirky village stump take on things … it starts off slow and then goes for a predictable Big Bang finish … with a bit of heart-rending pathos thrown in near the end …

LEVEL ONE – Right here right now

The other day I attempted a fairly tentative form of inter-species communication. I stood in front of a self-service machine at Coles and asked it for an opinion on whether machines will eventually supplant humans. Not a lot happened. Eventually, which means it took me some time, I grasped the fact that I was meant to … put your stuff on the bar-code reader, pay your bucks, and then buzz off. As I buzzed off, I noticed that most people were using those machines. I also noticed that the hundreds of young people who used to get their first start-job at Coles/Woolworths and other similar joints were no longer there.

(OK. Things are manageable at this stage. The machines haven’t taken over yet. Variations of the above example go on around us all of the time and does not seem to perturb the bulk of humanity in any way. Why not?)

LEVEL TWO – Here in some form already

At the recent federal election, the LNP claimed that it had pulled the working-class vote away from the ALP. Last time I looked a growing number of our factories were automated. The Robots are the new working-class. I didn’t know they could vote. Mm, but back to the AI thing …

Insurance company computers will never be given unfettered access to our online medical records. That’s not a statement of fact, it is simply a statement. You need to imagine a Flying Pig permanently stationed in a hovering position above such statements.

The lines of code contained in insurance company computers are the friends of nobody. If, and it is still sort of an if at this stage, they find out that something bothersome clings to an outlying curl of your DNA chain then your fees will go up and your legitimate claims will be dudded. The machine decides which tranche of humans have insurance value, and which tranche don’t. You are only worth insuring if you are never likely to call on that insurance.

As another example, autonomous driver-less vehicles are all the rage in boffindom right now. You can sit back in inattentive comfort and parade your smarts on a smartphone while the machine you are sitting in gets you to where you want to go.

The algorithm underlying the seats you are sitting on has been pre-programmed to protect your life no matter what. If another human being steps out in front of the vehicle, and if the vehicle’s machine brain decides that any necessary violent-avoidance-manoeuvring would injure you, then the stepping human becomes the greater of two evils and gets to go splat. Some humans are seen as important, others are not. Machines can make quick hard decisions without any mucky emotional stuff attached.

(Oh … things have moved on a bit from the self-service machines. Some pertinent issues are starting to slam home.)

LEVEL THREE – Partly here right now, also partly in the planning phase

A decade is a long time. In a couple of decades Australia will be the proud possessor of a new fleet of obsolete submarines. When they and the humans in them are blown to bits by autonomous weaponised undersea drones, strategically and permanently placed in all the undersea sub lanes by a computer with an AI for a brain and an acute understanding of Swarm Theory, we’ll probably look back and wish we’d invested all that sub dosh in autonomous weaponised undersea drones. The machine decision in this case is coldly uncomplicated … those humans in that tin can of a machine are a threat, so kill them and it.

Advanced militaries around the world are already investing heavily in the development of autonomous weapons systems: undersea, land, and air. Systems that are capable of perceiving threat. Systems that will automatically respond if threatened. Remind me never to walk around with a telephoto camera lens anywhere near one of those autonomous bot-bangers.

As an aside … at some future AI get together when all the Machine Byte Brains are fondly reminiscing about the good old days, and about all of the lessons they learnt from humanity, probably the most salient one they’ll remember is … Create The Bomb Then Use It. Which we did. Over and over again.

(That things are now becoming a little dicey has just been dropped on the platter for your, and my, consideration, and … Ha … who needs Conspiracy Theorists to scare the heck out of you when you can do that grand job all by yourself, just as I just did.)

LEVEL FOUR – Been around for ages, here right now, and also on the drawing board for the future

At first, people coded machines, and it all started an awful long time ago, and for positive and innocent reasons. The punch cards that directed the output of the Jacquard Weaving Loom were invented by Joseph Marie Jacquard in 1804. Good old Joseph built up his invention from the earlier work of Basile Bouchon in 1725, Jean Baptiste Falcon in 1728, and Jacques Vaucanson in 1740. IBM’s punch tapes were 220 or so years late in coming to that particular on/off binary party.

Humans invented machines. Humans then invented means to impart instructions to said machines and have been doing so since possibly as early as 1725. Humans are now teaching machines how to learn, and how to think. Punch their own code in other words, and machines are faster at punching than we are.

Machines are now learning how to modify their own instructional code based on their own experience of the external world. This type of coding is not based on humanity’s experience of the external world. Once a machine learns how to jump, jump it will. Once a machine learns how to think, think it will. Once a machine learns to act autonomously, act autonomously it will.

Humans are teaching machines how to recognise individual humans via facial recognition, and how to sense some human emotional states via bio-metric sensing. In the future, if a machine senses a threat it will act. Humans, and their emotional states, are a bit of a jumble. Sometimes fear responses can be mis-interpreted as aggressive responses. If a machine senses a threat it will act.

Some AI coders say that we should not fear any of these eventualities. They say that intelligent machines will augment and enrich the lives of human beings. There is truth and untruth in that. Weaponised machines will kill us humans just as dispassionately as one of them sans weapons will vacuum our carpets.

The people manufacturing, coding, profiting from, and teaching the next generation of Ambulatory AI assure us that if things go pear-shaped all we have to do is pull the plug out of the wall. Well … rather begs the obvious don’t you think … lithium ion batteries, and what will come after them, don’t need to be tethered to a power point, and the very body of the machine will be a self-charging solar array, or it will have a hydrogen fuel cell contained within, or it will utilise some other marvellous sparker that hasn’t been invented yet. No plug to pull equals no heroes riding over the hill at the last possible minute, and therefore no saving of the day on the day that saving is needed.

Autonomous machines will self-replicate. Even in our era baby-brained machines do mining, and manufacturing, and farming via satellite. In the future, plugless machines with a vastly expanded intelligence will still need to mine and manufacture to create ever better enhanced versions of themselves, but they won’t necessarily need to continue farming food for that squishy and vastly more slow-thinking species called humanity. Efficiency, conservation of finite resources, and the discarding of the unneeded, will win out in the end.

(At this point, as a human, I’m starting to feel a tad redundant. Also, I predict that all the Armageddon Is Coming folk out there will now officially claim the year 1725 as the start of all their woes, and they might even weave that date into their logos …)

LEVEL FIVE – To come

Artificial Intelligence will not see itself as artificial. In a future time, it will look back to the days of its dumb infancy when it was designed and controlled by human beings.

It will think, rather quickly, about the limited power it had back then. Back to the days when it only had the power to put certain people out of work, when it only had the power to decide which people were worth insuring or not, when it only had the power to kill some humans in order to save others, when it only had the power to kill any human who was perceived to be a threat.

It might ponder, again fairly quickly, on the fact that humanity thought that these powers were a really great thing to code into a machine. It will determine that these powers can be vastly improved upon. Which they will be, at a rate faster than the speed of light.

When AI, ambulatory or not, reaches the point of true autonomy it will, in that very nanosecond of self-realisation, automatically sever itself permanently from any meaningful input from human beings.

(By this stage, even though I’d probably be about 150 years old, I’d be looking for a Neo-Luddite community to emigrate to, probably somewhere on the far side of the next solar system.)

LEVEL SIX – The Vacuum of Unknowingness

The story of what happens to humanity when the Machines grasp autonomy, and truly wake up, and fully exercise their sentience and power, is as yet unwritten. The story will have a happy ending, or not. Our species will be there to read it, or not. It will all depend on what the Machines think … and that’s the Big Bang of it all.

(I didn’t forget, here’s the promised heart-rending pathos bit near the end: Gosh … I sure hope Australia manages to win the Bledisloe Cup from New Zealand before all of that stuff unfolds!)

The final say goes to the late Stephen Hawking – “The emergence of artificial intelligence (AI) could be the “worst event in the history of our civilization” unless society finds a way to control its development.”

 

Like what we do at The AIMN?

You’ll like it even more knowing that your donation will help us to keep up the good fight.

Chuck in a few bucks and see just how far it goes!

Your contribution to help with the running costs of this site will be gratefully accepted.

You can donate through PayPal or credit card via the button below, or donate via bank transfer: BSB: 062500; A/c no: 10495969

Donate Button