(continuedfromabove)

In spite of the widespread public opposition, and in defiance of a vote 702 to 107 against privatisation at the NSW state Labor Party conference of May 2008, Morris Iemma's Government proceeded to ram through the privatisation legislation anyway. Thankfully for the people of NSW, the legislation was blocked with the votes of the Liberal/National Party Opposition, Greens and Independents.

Premier Anna Bligh, I was disturbed to read that your Government also gave its support for the privatisation of NSW's electricity generators, in spite of your own reported personal stance against the privatisation of Queensland's electricity generators in 2006.
Given this history, it seems to me that the Queensland public have good reason to fear that, upon re-election, your Government may proceed to sell of yet more of their assets, including Queensland Railways, electricity generators, more airports, the water grid, public buildings, public land, etc.

The reason I write this letter is to seek your firm assurance that if you do intend to privatise any of these assets that you state your intention to do so to the public before the forthcoming elections, or, alternatively, that you will put any planned privatisations to the public at referenda.

Yours sincerely,

James Sinnamon
Independent pro-democracy candidate for Mount Cooth-tha

---

I still haven't received a reply.

The Saga of the Undying Phlaigme: part 3

Sun Tsu's injunction was "Know your enemy". Forrest heeded it as best he could.

Forrest found it hard to consider the author his 'enemy'. They had never met before. The argument by abuse, however, was unmistakeable, and Forrest felt himself obliged to continue posting at the steady, measured rate of two posts in every 24 hours imposed by the OLO rules, and in the spirit of proper Forum discourse, if only for the sake of genuine enquirers after truth. He had, however visited his opponent's blog, via the little yellow icon below his posts' timestamps, and learned that this was the author's usual literary style: Forrest's perplexity declined accordingly. The author had, on his blog, spoken disparagingly of Forrest Gump (the film, about Forrest's hero), so there was a hankering for some degree of satisfaction on Forrest's part.

Shambling around the stables incognito some hours earlier, Forrest had thought he had heard his opponent's mount for the upcoming combat referred to by the squires as 'Carbuncle'. The name didn't ring any bells with Forrest. It was every bit as important to gather intelligence as to an opponent's mount rather than as to the knight rider himself, as in these mortal combats the horses did the bulk of the real work, and bore the brunt of the risk of injury. They were bigger targets for the lances. Come to think of it, 'Carbuncle' is a most inauspicious name for a war-horse, isn't it?

It was a shame really, that it had come to this. They were in agreement as to virtually everything in both the article and the sleaze, except as to the merits of the petition. Forrest had come to think the author's stance represented an instance of the very thing WYRDMABUBY, his own trusty mount, pnemonicised. He could understand the lashing out in anger once realization as to one's having been used dawned upon one.

Understanding was no substitute for withdrawal of support for the petition, though.

TBC

The Saga of the Undying Phlaigme: part 4

It was late summer, slipping into autumn.

The afternoon light bathed the arena in that particularly clear and intense light so commented upon by that now-long-departed Knight who remembered the forgotten people so long, long ago. There was a gentle breeze, on which thistledown floated, magically, like the Australian dollar. Several wind turbines visible in the middle distance turned lazily as they went about their business, megawatt hour after megawatt hour; something that caused a deep sense of satisfaction to wash over Forrest.

Banners of the Coat of Arms, alternating with banners of the SA, the silver crossed-lightning bolts superimposed over black circle on red background representing the 20/20 Vision of the New Federales, a symbol of power out of the earth, were all hanging down straight despite the breeze.

Forrest had received some last-minute intelligence from 'Spaghnum', the senior page boy responsible for organising and dispatching all the other pages. He was the page page. He showed up in the nominal roll of pages as Moss, A.D.; oddly enough, he didn't get his nickname from his surname, but because he was always knowledgeable of any graft going on. When Forrest had asked Spaghnum what he knew about the war-horse Carbuncle, Spaghnum had laughed uproariously. "Carbuncle's not the horse, that's what all the squires call Sir Knight when he's not around" he spluttered. Forrest sniggered. Spaghnum, who was one of the very few 'public officials', or 'businessmen' that were game to be seen with Forrest these days, then told Forrest the name of the war-horse 'Sir Knight' would be riding. Forrest's eyes widened in amazement.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall", Forrest muttered, as he applied the last of the blue warpaint to the second of the diagonally-opposed quadrants of WYRDMABUBY's face. The two white quadrants were already painted, as was Forrest's own face in mirror-reversal. Disruptive camouflage. Disorienting for an opponent.

The time was getting near.

WYRDMABUBY was a trick horse.

TBC

As I have yet to say anything either positive or disparaging about either Forrest Gump or Forrest Gumpp on my web site, I felt a sense of relief to have been able to deduce that Forrest could not have been referring to me when he wrote of his 'enemy'.

The Saga of the Undying Phlaigme: part 5

The SA, the 'South Australians', were a pillar of the New Federales rise to power. The term, of course, was apt to be a little misleading to those who were not of the new elite: it was not meant to signify in generality the resident population of that vestigial remnant of the former federation; indeed its membership had been long dispersed across the Commonpoverty of Terra Nullius, the officially agreed compromise term for the new Wiemar-style Republic of the Ozzians.

Earnest reams of obfuscation had been brought into being to disguise the nature of the contribution of the SA in the rise to power of the New Federales. Banana republicans almost to a man and girl, almost all shared the conviction that Manual Labor was a Mexican, and that all physical goods could and should only be produced in China, or at least anywhere else but Oz. They placed great store in the value of intellectual property as an elite road to wealth. Australia still rode on the sheeps' backs, but only after they had all been fleeced.

Whatever, here all the SA were, on one of those rare occasions when an officially sanctioned mortal combat was to be followed by a torchlight rally and ballot box burning, all acting as standard bearers for this great occasion of State.

Forrest used the extended 'recantation time' alone in the arena routinely offerred to anyone so foolish as to accept a challenge made on behalf of the New Federales to try out some of the tactics suggested by Prince Valium. Riding slowly along the line of standards, "Swill!", he shouted at the SA standard bearers. "Opportunist scum!". They all positively beamed back. The crowd behind the security barriers went wild with delight. One young SA standard bearer actually broke discipline to say "yes, that's us". He was promptly pistol-whipped.

The insults were not producing results. Perhaps Forrest didn't have just the right inflexion. Crowd baiting could be like that: what worked for one did not necessarily work for another.

TBC

The Saga of the Undying Phlaigme: part 6

Forrest clearly had to rely on his own resources for this combat, few as they were.

He had little in the way of arms, even less armour. Apart from the lance, his only weapon was a blade shorter even than the renowned old Roman gladeus (more like an oversized and unwieldy dirk); a sword-bayonet, which he carried in a custom-made scabbard that doubled as a greave on his right lower leg.

The lance. Now that was something else. Good lances were hard come by, and very expensive. These days, combatants on the field of honour were required to supply everything needed: horse, weapons, armour, tack, the lot. A lance (and obviously a war-horse to ride) was compulsory: all the rest was optional at the contestant's preference. Forrest could not afford a proper state-of-the-art lightweight shock-absorbing carbon-fibre reinforced lance: carbon was now a controlled substance, and could now only be used for State-approved purposes. Those who already had such lances would neither lend nor sell them: they were irreplaceable. Forrest had had to turn one up treen from an ironbark log that had lain in a paddock for forty years. It had taken forever to do.

Forrest's lance was beautifully seasoned, as hard and strong as iron, but talk about heavy! It was all Forrest could do to keep the lance level in a charge, let alone maintain aim with it while charging. He had had to make a special carrying tube for it when moving with the lance in the vertical 'carry' position. The carrying tube was special in another way: the very end of the regulation-length lance could be locked in position just within the steel-reinforced mouth of the thick-walled ironbark tube, effectively, but still within the rules, extending its overall length thereby. The tube itself was secured to the saddle on a swivel, which allowed it to pivot in virtually any direction. There was a hand-grip on its bottom.

Such were Forrest's weapons.

TBC