miners are scum

It’s got to the point 2 and a half years into Kevin Rudd’s first term, where I’m so disappointed with him that I don’t really trust anything he says. He’s bungled pretty much everything he touched. I wouldn’t go as far as to vote for Tony Abbott, but given the choice I’d vote for Julia Gillard in a moment. I’m also considering voting for the Greens, but that’s not much of an option. In the end, you have to put Labour above the Liberals – or vice versa – even if they are the last on the list.

So, anyway, I’m certainly not going to blindly support the new mining Super Profits Tax on Kevin’s say-so.

That being said, I actually think the new tax regime is a pretty good idea. If it means the mining industry slows down a bit for a few years, what’s the problem? The iron will still be in the ground in 20 years and China isn’t going anywhere soon.

Also, if it means miners have to pay more tax, fine. As a breed, billionaire miners are a pretty disgraceful lot. Consider Clive Palmer:

Clive is one of Australia’s richest people, and going by his appearance on Four Corners this week, is an absolute raving lunatic. Here he is, talking about the RSPT:

I think it comes from Das Kapital in 1868. The super tax comes about by Marx and Engels and their famous work which inspired the Russian Revolution. But it’s just extraordinary to think in 2010 after the failure of the Eastern bloc, the failure of communist China, the failure of communist Russia, you’ve got two apparatchiks of the party sitting up here trying the embark Australian on a socialist revolution.

Um, no. It’s just something that makes you pay slightly more tax. There’s a difference between tax and communism. Anyway, I think he can afford it. The man has his own plane, and not one of those little ones. It has to be big to carry him.

If there were to be a revolution, Clive and his mates Twiggy and Marius would be first against the wall, with any luck.

Running
I’ve signed up to do a speed session this lunch-time with a guy from work’s running group. I’m a bit nervous about this. I have endurance by the bucket-full, but I think I left my little story of fast-twitch muscles behind the couch a few months ago and haven’t seen them since. Dear me.

things I don’t like

People who describe items of their clothing as “pieces”. I’m thinking mainly of people who have themselves photographed in MX magazine saying things like “I’m a vintage shop kinda girl. I like to find great unique pieces”. What this usually means is they wear exactly the same allegedly trendy, unflattering rubbish everyone else does, but they desperately want to sound cool.

People who says they “have a passion for fashion”. See above.

Dogs who whine and beg to be walked, pull your arm out of your shoulder socket in the first 5 minutes, but who can’t keep the pace up for more than 20 minutes. I made my sad excuse for a dog run 3km last night and I had to practically carry her for the last 2.8km and then give her mouth to mouth at the end.

People who work at cafes who ask you for your name. It totally steps over the line in the customer-barrista relationship.

Connex customer relations officers who stand with arms crossed, glowering, in a line across the barriers at Parliament station in the morning like they’re in the Gestapo.

People who call themselves “barrista”.

Catherine Deveny. To quote a particularly under-rated poet (Axl Rose) “I used to love her, but I have to kill her”. She was pretty funny about 12 months ago, in a straight-talking, tell it like it is way. Now, she’s just descended to far into contempt-for-fellow-man territory. See her latest article if you dare.

Packed to the rafters: I can’t work out why this show is so offensive to me. Is it the incessant cheeriness? Is it Michael Caton? Is it the awful musical stings they have at the end of each scene?

Kevin Rudd: the only thing I ever liked about him was that he wasn’t John Howard. Now, it’s starting to dawn on me that there are 20-odd million people just in Australia who also aren’t John Howard, therefore it’s probably not such a claim to fame. He’s smug, and prissy, and too full of his own intelligence, but nothing worthwhile actually gets done.

Running
Just a little one last night with the slow dog (sorry Sara – I don’t mean to steal your gag). I’ll try to run tonight.

shop for australia

The world-wide economic crisis has penetrated my consciousness to a very minor degree in the past few weeks. I’m told it’s there, but I can’t see much in the way of evidence.

Petrol prices are substantially cheaper than they were a few months ago, and every few weeks it seems my mortgage payments get cheaper. Sara over at runningawayfromhome seems to think the petrol prices have some sort of twilight-zone relationship to her waist measurement, and I’m inclined to agree with her.

That being the case, neither of those “problems” are convincing signs of economic catastrophe. If anything they both make me richer!

Now, good old Kevin 07 seems to have shoveled a couple of grand into my bank account and instructed me in no uncertain terms to “Shop for Australia“.

The implication seems to be that blowing a heap of dough at my nearest Harvey Norman, Myer, JB Hifi or whatever is the economically responsible thing to do.

Even if I accepted that argument, which I don’t, I’m not sure I’m up for $2000 worth of shopping.

Back in Johnny Howard days, we were told to have one baby for Mum, one for Dad and one for Peter Costello. At least that involved some sort of fun, albeit spoiled by the mental image of Costello’s miserable face.

But shopping? Can’t I do something else? Don’t get me wrong, I’m as patriotic as the next guy, but I’m not much of a shopper. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending time in my local Westfield.

Can I run for my country? Blog?

What would you rather do?

big day

The big news around the traps, apart from Gary Coleman from Different Strokes getting married, seems to be about the big apology up at Canberra. It was enormous news where I work. They had big screens set up in the lobby, which was choked with so many people you couldn’t even make it into the lifts. The sound mysteriously turned itself off when Brendon Nelson started to speak, perhaps out of sympathy with the prevailing ideological bent.

What do I think about it all, you ask? (I know you probably didn’t ask, but I’m going to answer anyway.)

I think the apology is a good thing, too long delayed, and I’m glad it’s finally been done, and with some style. For whatever reason, good or bad, a lot of Aboriginal children were forcibly taken from their families. This has caused ongoing trauma for all concerned. Whether we’re personally involved or not, it’s right for us to apologise as a country, and seek some sort of reconciliation.

I wouldn’t be too hard on Brendon Nelson, though. He represents a party that comes from a definite ideological position, and within that he made a decent fist of coming to terms with the history involved. The stuff about millions of people dying for their country was a bit out of left field, but I kinda see what he was getting at.

Andrew Bolt seems to be whipping himself up into a more than averagely rabid frenzy over the issue (5 blog posts on the topic today alone) which is usually a sign we’re on the right track.

What choo talkin’ ’bout?
Back to the important stuff. Gary Coleman, aged 40 (gee that makes me feel old) married Shannon Price, aged 22, on a mountaintop in Nevada. Way to go Gary! Apparently:

Nobody was around but the minister, preacher, the videographers, the photographer, the helicopter pilot and us

Why did he need a minister AND preacher? And why videographers plural? And why invite the helicopter pilot but not Mum and Dad? I don’t get it.

stalled in committee

I note with interest our political lords and masters up in Canberra have come up with a brilliant idea for solving the world’s problems: they’ll ask people.

Kevin Rudd expects policy ideas in focus by year’s end

What a stroke of genius! Seeing as I’m generally sympathetic to that side of politics I’ll conveniently ignore that, for a party that came into power promising “new leadership”, they seem to have run out of ideas remarkably quickly.

I’d be interested to hear how Kevin07 intends herding 1000 self-described “experts” into some sort of coherent direction. I would have thought it’s more or less impossible. Going to a committee with no clear idea of the desired outcome is normally an excellent way of making absolutely nothing happen.

Anyway, I expect to see my invitation in the mail shortly. I expect to be invited to the forum around running issues. I also anticipate making substantial input to “policy direction” in the fields of Bob Dylan lyrics and dodgy blog posts.

Update
Apparently there isn’t going to be a forum on running issues. Very disappointed, Kevin. I’m beginning to suspect you’re last year’s man.

Get with the program.

just call the bloody election, please….

When it comes to epic battles of political ideas, I’m as big a fan as anyone. I’d also agree that Australian politics have gotten a fair bit more interesting in the post “Kevin07” era. I’m generally in favour of politicians running around the country throwing out fistfuls of cash left, right and centre, on the grounds that one day they might throw some at me.

But it’s gone on too long. If they keep on this way, there’ll be no more money left to “promise”. After all, it’s our money, from our taxes. Just call the election!!!!!

From the age today:

… Mr Howard could address the matter while campaigning in Macarthur in Sydney’s west today…

If he’s out “campaigning” today, he’s obviously not doing what he’s paid to do: govern the country.

So, if he’s conducting an election campaign, call the election!!!! It’s not a difficult concept to grasp, even Alexander Downer might be able to understand if you say it to him slowly.

Running
If the bit above strikes you as being more assertive and positive than average, never fear: it’s just the post-run happy-juice talking. I had a particularly enjoyable, fast, trip around the tan. So fast in fact I wasn’t able to jump off in time and ended up swinging around a second time.

Even the hordes of Show-bound school kids and harassed-looking parents didn’t phase me. Federation Square, which had transformed itself into a heaving mass of hormones and acne in honour of the final 12 warblers from ‘Strayun Oidol: it had no effect on my serene state of mind.

Running’s good like that.

Music
I wrote a post a few weeks ago, the main thrust being that Patti Smith is crazy. Well, today I take it back. She’s not crazy, but she is a little peculiar.

I was listening to “Birdland” on my run today. Beautiful song in it’s way, but it really bugs me the way she keeps saying:

all the long, black funeral cars

Hearse, woman. Hearse. Haven’t you ever heard the word?

I think I need to have a lie down.

kevin rudd is the devil

By now, I’m sure you’ve already seen the headlines – “Rudd wallows in pit of sinfulness and iniquity” or whatever it is.

Personally, I don’t care whether he spent his entire formative years snorting lines of coke off the thighs of crack-whores in opium dens in New York. Frankly, who hasn’t? Also, it would explain the hair.

What I’m concerned about is this quote I read in the Age this morning:

“This was only the second time in his life he had drunk too much — the other was at home on his 35th birthday.”

Either:

1. he has a very flexible interpretation of “drunk too much”,
2. he’s flat-out lying OR
3. he needs to get a life

This whole episode seems to confirm my theory that Rudd is a secret Liberal party plant. He was too good to be true, and now, just when it’s too late to change, he self-implodes.

It’s too convenient.

Running
A key long run yesterday – my campaign for Melbourne Marathon 2007 kinda rested on how well it went. A good run, and it’s all full-steam ahead, something tragic and the pin might have been pulled.

The pin can rest easy – it was a good, though hard one.

It was 33 k, starting at Ringwood, heading to Montrose, then up to Lilydale and back to Ringwood, via the Mullum Mullum creek. It felt okay most of the way, even the hills weren’t so bad. I sped up for the last few ks, just to put the legs under some pressure. Good preparation.

It was 33k in right on 2hours 30. A quick look on Mapmyrun gave me an average speed of 4.5m/k. I read that initially as being 4 minutes 50 seconds, which was disappointing. Stupid me, it means 4 and a half minutes, so 4:30.

Not too bad.

everyone loves Kevin Rudd

Allow me to be the first person to say, Julia Gillard is the most attractive deputy leader of the Australian Labor Party of all time.

Firstly – I know there’s not much competition, Paul Keating aside.

Secondly, before you say it – I know it’s a fairly sexist thing to say. In my defence, when a politician has her picture taken looking glamourous on a beach, I think she’s inviting a certain amount of phwoaaring.

Thirdly – let me qualify myself – she’s the most attractive etc. until she opens her mouth. Then it’s another story completely.

Anyway, as you probably know by now, Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard have won, quite convincingly and are now leading the ALP. Congratulations to them, I say.

I have mixed feelings about Rudd. He’s clearly very intelligent and manages to string a sentence together on a fairly regular basis. He’s also friendly enough to the US not to scare the right-wing press too much. He’s a christian, which doesn’t win too many points with me, but probably helps make him more electable.

The only thing real downside, apart from the fact he looks like the sort of kid Harry Potter would have shunned for being too geeky, is that he hasn’t much experience of domestic issues.

As for Beazley…

I hate to be uncharitable, but I have no sympathy for the guy. [edit: this was written before I found out about his brother. I didn’t mean to be that heartless. just a little bit] He’s had multiple chances to lead the party and consistently failed. Not only has he failed to articulate an argument against Howard, on some issues he hasn’t even tried. I’m thinking especially on Tampa back in 2001. The best thing for him to do is retire and live on his $100,000 a year pension, or whatever it is.

ps. I did some running at some point in the weekend. At least I think I did?