We couldn’t land at Broome and had to settle for the Pilbara.
Dear reader, we’ve been a hell of a long time getting back to Australia. We were gonna try a straight line to Darwin, but when we asked for landing permission at the port, the kind Chinese on Tuvalu in a not very subtle way suggested that might cost Clarrie his other kidney. And as we’d done a deal, and Darwin port is owned by the very same people, we thought we’d be pushing it. So we had to settle for Broome instead. Lucky, we just had enough fuel to get there. We toyed with the idea of Darwin, but from the expression of the Hong Kong journalist who had vounteered to accompany the Chinese back to the airstrip, we sort of had a premonition. “More Belt, than Road’, said Ces. And besides, we weren’t too sure how long Sam could guarrantee special rates for the Tuvaluans, at the Star Casino. He’s a canny ex-politician, but as Ces said, “he aint a fucken Magician”.
We arrived back in Broome, and this is where the story gets really strange.
it was like JO was STILL running QUEENSLAND!
We left just a couple of weeks ago. But the weirdest thing, and if you’ve ever read the Narnia stories, particularly, the “Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe”, we felt that though we’d only been on Tuvalu for a couple of weeks eating fruit and involved in high level negotiations, it seemed that we’d gone back in time. Issues that were dead when we left were like trenchant contemporary issues. “Like Australia” (Ces opined) “was stuck in the Nineteen Fifties”!
It was like BLACK JACK still ran the Country Party!!!
At first we thought it might be a joke. We know Rupert has a sense of humour and thought that all the talk about re-criminalising abortion must be a joke. Rupert is funny that way. Always likes to turn any notion of libertarianism upside down, cos it gets a belly laugh from old white men. But to coin a Roy Rene-ism, “ Strike me Pink”, as soon as we arrived at the Pilbara, cos Broome beach is off limits to Flying boats cos they haven’t got membership to the Qantas lounge, etc, we were flung in the slammer. Since we’ve been away, any assembly in a mining area, by non authorised persons is tantamount to treason and comes with a twenty year jail term. “Fuck me’! Ces said; “this is about as much fun as being a bookseller in Honkers”. We all laughed, but then, the very next thing, shocked us. Flung into our prison cell as a sort of wrapper for our pie and chips was a copy of the Catholic Boys Daily. (The Australian)
We couldn’t believe it. The Minister for Energy, calling an engineering group “bedwetters” for pulling out of Adani. Being a bed wetter support group we felt marginalised and victimised. Special police powers to jail protesters in Queensland. “From a Labor Government’ Cec Fumed! “Fuckin Hypocrytes”.!!
The New South Wales governnment cowering to Pro-lifers, and the passing into law an ambitious plan to send boat people to Port Moresby. We all laughed; ‘and they say Dutton aint got a sense of humour”! Sort of like sending a pacifist to a gun convention in the states. And to top it all off, Ces pointed to the headline; “Troops off to the Middle East”.
‘It’s just like Vietnam’, Clarry observed; ‘the BORE war all over again”.
The only thing we could laugh about was aboriginal incarceration through the roof, and a close second: Deaths in custody. We’d been away. The world had gone upside down. But at least one core Australian value was intact.
But we couldn’t believe it. The country had changed. Like it was never there.
“Pinch me now”! Ces cried. We did .. he shouted and hopped up and down. “Fuck me! We aint dreaming, this is REAL”??
it was like SANTA STILL ran the DLP… and they were MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER!!!
“Surreal”! We said.
And we felt like foreigners. Outcasts and exiles in our own country.
Instead of being greeted like saviours who had singlehandedly re-aligned Australias position as a lead power in the Sth Pacific, we were beng treated like criminals. Worse Still… IGNORED!
“Still”, as Clarrie said, comforted by the fact that he still had one kidney and in the slammer, ‘we’re safe, it aint really all that bad’!.
“And why’s that you sarcastic bastard’? we asked.
“Well philosophically speaking it could’ve been worse”,
“Worse than what”? we said.
“I dunno whichever way you look at it there’s telly in the cell, an excercise yard and a pool.
And we’re better off than them’…
We looked into the adjacent compound.
A conga line of NGO’s queing up to service the Aboriginies in custody. Brand new four wheel drives filling up the prison carpark,
“We’ve still got our respect’.
It was like something even worse than TRICKY DICKY and BILLY MACMAHON were still in POWER!
“Respect in what? You silly bugger’!
‘Of principles and the rule of law. And the knowledge” …..,His voice trailed off as he watched a fly lazilly alight upon the slowly revolving blade of the ceiling fan. A symbol of freedom in these oppressive conditions,
“Of what? you silly bigger” we sniggered
‘THAT’!, pointing to the aboriginals in cells.
‘There’s always someone worse off than yourself’.
“Youre DEAD right Clarrie” said Ces softly.
“DEAD”, Clarrie murmured. Clarrie turned his gaze slowly back to the sweaty circle of humanity that was “us”.
It was like the SIXTIES and SEVENTIES NEVER EVER HAPPENNED!!!
“Yup , they soon will be”.