The danger at the door
Being a classy bird, I walked home in the morning of the first day of the last year of the first decade of the 21st century with my sandals in my hand. Walking barefoot from Surry Hills to Redfern with my mask in my other hand, I pondered the proliferation of glass and drug paraphernalia, but my feet were mostly unsoiled by anything except city grime.
Until I got home. And found this on my doorstep.
Oh yeah. I’m from Redfern.
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A modern scandal
A horrible blight is afflicting our young people. From the streets of Parramatta to the alleys of Darlinghurst, teenagers and young twenties are suffering; it is a modern scandal. We should be ashamed that they cannot afford the bare necessities.
Ashamed!
Please give generously to the Buy A Belt Foundation.
For the gods’ sake, our teens depend on you! Our future depends on you!
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A good question
Last week, heading up the coast for Christmas, I decided to take a taxi to my parents’ place rather than hang around Gosford Station for 20 minutes waiting on a bus.
Somehow, the taxi driver started talking about climate change. Honestly, I DID NOT START IT.
“Oh, all these scare mongerers,” she said. “I mean, who cares about two degrees change or whatever. I can’t see it’ll make any difference. The temperature changes all the time.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. “But global climate temperature is different to everyday local temperature.”
“Yeah, but you know, it’s just all about taxing us, giving us another tax. And like, there isn’t any science behind it—”
“—yeah there is!”
“—there’s just no science behind it. I mean, you never hear about it on the radio, or on TV or anything. Where’s the science?”
“Look,” I said. “I read a lot of science books. The science is there. It’s robust. There’s over a hundred years of climate science.”
“But where is it?” she persisted. “It’s not in any of the newspapers.”
“You’ve got to go to a library,” I said. “Borrow a book. The fact is, those guys aren’t going to publish any of the science, you won’t see it on Today Tonight or in the Daily Telegraph or on talkback radio. You just won’t.”
“But why not?” she asked. “Why not?”
It’s a good question. Why can’t we read about actual climate science in any of the mainstream publications?
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Tree sock
Once when I was in London, I dropped my beanie somewhere near the Houses of Parliament. I was halfway across Westminster Bridge before I noticed. I was crushed. I loved that beanie. I got it in Bulgaria. It had ugly little flaps that tie under your chin. It was the one thing that kept me from dying during the cold European winters.
Anyway, I walked slowly back towards the station, keeping a look out for it. You never know, I thought, it could just be lying on the footpath somewhere. A little trampled, maybe, but still okay.
And sure enough, just outside the Tesco Express, I found my beanie. It was neatly folded and sitting on a low wall. Someone had picked up my scungy beanie and taken care of it. I love London.
I’m not sure that if I found a sock on George Street I would pick it up and tie it around a tree, but you never know.
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The lights are out
Their work is done. They pause for a wee break. Ah, says Number Nine. That was a good day. We lit up as much as we could. And now we’re done. That’s a good day.
But Number Six looks doubtful. Maybe all this work isn’t worth it. Maybe it’s not all it could have been. Maybe life could have been spent better doing something else, helping someone else, making something else tick. What the hell have I been doing? What the hell is my life?
But these thoughts don’t trouble the Town Hall light. He knows – I did my duty. I served my time. My comrades and I are…. signing out….
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After the Party
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Backstreet Malaysian Patriots
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Buckland lounge
If you’re ever wandering around Newtown and need a nap, or just want to put your feet up for a bit, or just want to plonk your butt on a nice soft chair you’re in luck! They City of Sydney Council has installed these lounges on Buckland Lane just for you!
I note that they’re just around the corner from Newtown library, so you can totally borrow a book and sit on the lounge for hours of free entertainment.
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Literate slugs
I really wish slugs and caterpillars could read.
I spend around 10 minutes every day in my garden, looking under the leaves of my herbs and vegies, looking for the little fuckers. They destroyed my basil. They’ve devoured my mint not once, not twice, but THREE times – mint, however, is extremely durable and keeps bouncing back.
But imagine if they could read?
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Everywhere Dude
You know that dude who’s always trying to sell/give you a copy of The Green Left, like EVERYwhere you go, Redfern Market, Glebe market, Central station, Broadway, like everywhere.
You know him, right? Kinda weedy looking, pretty youngish, I suppose, but has one of those faces that means he could be 14 or 40 and you wouldn’t know. He has a scraggly little beard that he’s been growing since before Kurt Cobain topped himself.
I used to think I must’ve known him in Newcastle cos he just looked so familiar. And then I realised that I just saw him all the fucking time, standing there politely, holding a copy of The Green Left.
So, I walked past him twice this week, both times on Abercrombie Street, but he wasn’t giving/selling The Green Left. He was on his way to or from a rally or something, hurrying along with some bearded old dude who could’ve been his dad or his mentor or his lover. Who am I to speculate?
The first time he was holding a placard in support of Aboriginal rights. The second time the placards were all wrapped up in brown paper. Secret placards.
But both times we walked past each other it was near the Carlton Brewery site. Fuckn dude is EVERYwhere.
Filed under: Observations, People, Redfern | 2 Comments
Tags: People, Redfern
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