5

More than one hundred thousand dead in Iraq, mostly civilians, woops, dunno how that happened, we didn’t expect them to fight back, hey we were liberating them, we wanted them to be a democracy like Israel, why don’t they see Israel as a worthy model to emulate, for starters they’ll get our support, arm them to the teeth, friends for life, oil the wheels of international diplomacy, nudge wink, why are they so different from us, not so different, prefer to be left alone, think their way of life is superior, devil they know, fear of too much freedom maybe, think it warps the mind, maybe so, but we’re all animals, but they don’t think so, stop saying they, but they’re all religious out there, in Israel too, put a wall around them, leave them to wake up to themselves, and their gods, and their hatred of other gods, their sense of destiny, we’ll show them we’re chosen, one day, one day, our god makes us suffer for our greater glory, what do they think of the Chinese, of Maoris, what do they think, do they think? Infidels, lost to themselves, competing certainties, how did it come to this? Baggage of civilisation, epiphenomena of the forebrain. Rather here than there, we all say that, is that all there is to say? The superiority of science a matter of faith? Don’t think so. Lot of ink wasted on that one. Wasted? Don’t think so. Can’t think so. Reflections wasted on the unreflective maybe. Everybody reflects, after their fashion. Common ground to be found, just wish there was more. Work towards goodwill. Missionaries whose mission is not to convert, but to find common ground, extend the common ground. Fucking hard work, a square centimetre a lifetime, easily eroded. Even NGOs derided, more harm than good, goodwill not enough thank you very much, careful planning, danger of raising expectations, what has happened in Iraq, all the trouble caused by people wanting a bit more, better to keep them like mushrooms, the North Korean regime’s way, happily brainwashed, same process as religion methinks, are we happier, constantly measuring the lack, of love, of due affection and tenderness not to mention filthy lucre, at least we have our gardens, our little plots allocated, pigs in shit, see worlds in a plot of earth, my Cymbeline rose, quartered, my gingko biloba, keep it from growing too much, preparing to experiment with espaliering, quinces in particular, attractive gnarly tree, exquisite fruit, far from the madding here in the lucky country, best kept secret, those few who’re let in on it dying to get in, terror-stricken terrorists, kiddies overboard, all for want of paperwork, want of waiting in line thousands of miles away, if there are lines, but there are always lines, due process, Iran’s just like here, civilised, sympathetic to people who want to leave, North Korea okay maybe not. Have to have places to feel superior to, no we wouldn’t send them back to North Korea, unless they started letting them out, that would clearly show they could go back, to facilitate the return of civilisation, like us.

4

I had a dream last night and I remember it which is quite unusual for me, I was informed by my leader, whether Premier or Prime Minister, that he’d selected me on his cabinet team, in some minor portfolio, and I was extremely nervous as well as surprised. I talked to my family, particularly my sister, and she reassured me and took it in her stride, and my confidence began to grow, I was excited and honoured at the trust and faith people had in me, I would have to get stuck into research in the portfolio area assigned to me, if only I could remember what it was. Apart from that little to report, still tied to the house. Reading John Quiggin’s blogsite, he posts something on Sharon and the Palestinians, the two state solution, and so many people crawl out of the woodwork so to speak to comment, expert pro-Israelis, expert less-than-pro-Israelis, expert pro-Palestinians, all expert, apparently, on the 67 borders and the 48 borders, and the Barak-Clinton peace plan and the Oslo accord, all deeply disagreeing and insulting each other and taking umbrage, and passionately committed to the right thing, the solution, the best of all possible worlds, and these are Australians, across the other side of the world from the conflict with nothing detectably Jewish or Arabic in their names and no evident religious baggage, it gives a little insight into the impossibilities it seems of finding a settlement everyone can live with. I’m surprised I find myself with so little to say about the matter, accept to point out logical errors and inconsistencies in particular arguments, the abuse of the term moral equivalence and so forth, but an interesting subject this since Yasser Arafat has been taken poorly, he’s the one who so many Israelis and pro-Israelis have for so long wanted out of the frame, and I must say he doesn’t sound like my kind of guy, but neither does Sharon or Nehenyatu, and is it really fair to blame the Palestinians entirely for their impoverished predicament because many of them are in favour of suicide bombing and see the road to happiness and success in recovering some if not all of Israel for themselves, as a greater priority than building schools and the institutions of democracy and capitalism that are expected of them from we comfy westerners who see all the middle east apart from Israel as backward and ignorant and tribal and intransigently indigent? So what if Arafat dies, who will replace him, will there be elections, was the election of Arafat truly democratic, is the election of anyone truly democratic, a matter of relative flaws, closeness to an unattainable ideal, which election in the history of humanity has been closest to this ideal I wonder? The question is whether someone who is moderate enough to negotiate with the Israelis will be acceptable to the bulk of the Palestinians, and whether anyone acceptable to the Paestinians will be able to talk to the Israelis, to give up the rhetoric or hope of the destruction of the Israeli state.

3

Another not so productive day, don’t know why I even bother saying that, it’s a given, and I spent much of the time worreting over my Ford Laser as Daniel tried to fix it with Fiona’s help, but it finally proved too much for him, but he at least got it to a driveable level so that I can drive it to a proper repair place and spit the dummy is that the saying, it’s something to do with the exhaust and compression, it seems not to be something dreadfully serious, but so far I’ve paid $50 to Daniel for trying to fix it, and $89 to the RAA for a new battery and my money situation is getting grimmer, but I did manage to get to Centrelink via the car today, to put in a preliminary claim, so money from a couple of sources is on its way. And now to talk about sex, which will never happen for me again, but the thing is apparently not to think about it, not to fantasise, not to think of others that way, there are people of different religious sects, Christians, Buddhists and no doubt many others who practise celibacy and I’ve always been scathing about them, you know of all the sexual perversions chastity is the most unnatural, and still I’m not that interested but what this chappie had to say on the radio was thought provoking, he was a Franciscan or maybe a Dominican, some order that included males and females, all celibate, and he spoke of it as never easy but a discipline worth pursuing because it helps you rid yourself of the two great distortions of others that desire and lust drive you to, idolisation (the other as god) and appetite (the other as piece of meat to be devoured – apparently this comes from Tommy Aquinas). This frees you, apparently, to enjoy them (or not) in their actually reality, unfetishised and therefore undistorted. You can appreciate at its true worth their humanity, their humour, their skill, their generosity, even their beauty. I’m borrowing the glowing language of this religious chappie, and of course it wasn’t he but me who added (or not). You can see where these ideas hit the brick wall of limitations, and yet it’s probably true, no it’s definitely true that some who manage to suppress or abandon the sex drive achieve something powerful, it’s like a skill this religious chappie says, it can take you places people rarely get to, places in the mind, and I believe that, and I also know I’ll never get there, but this kind of discipline can bring about an extraordinary focus, it’s been measured by scientists in the brains of Buddhist monks, an ability not to be distracted, as I am by blue blue eyes and flashing smiles and a tilting head and yes of course legs and bums and boobies, but what the applications are for this undistractable human power I don’t know, except to halt the breeding process, which doesn’t sound like much fun.

2

It has been unexpectedly raining, maybe that’s why nobody is coming to fix my little Ford Laser, Daniel has isolated the faulty part, something to do with the exhaust, or the manifold, a small part, rusted and broken, and he’s gotten a new one, now all it is is to put things together, as they were, but the trouble is, the process is so slow, and haphazard, because the lad’s subject to drug-induced haziness and interplanetary escapades, and I’m wondering if there won’t be a few more screws loose by the end of the reconstruction. Hopefully by tomorrow it’ll all be hanging together just right, and then no more excuses for not getting on with my life, filling up the pantry, heading to Centrelink, organising the audit, moving and shaking a few La Luna people, attending the theatre, bushwalking gymming and even skirtchasing, for I desperately need something to write about after all, I don’t go out much, though I’ve been out to dinner a couple of times in the past week, the same Thai restaurant, on Churchill Road, two minutes’ walk away, with my foster-lad, who of the three I’ve had under my wing so far is the most suited, pity he has to move on so soon, because he’s based in the south, and I have to stay here in the north, cultivating my garden, marvelling at how well the florid thyme grows, at why the basil yellows and droops and the salvia dies, he’s sixteen, the lad, and thoughtful, comparatively, and naïve too of course, how vulnerable they are with their occasional mawkish pronouncements, thankfully not able to see themselves through the eyes of a jaded forty-eight-year-old, and their wild ambitions, of forming bands or becoming champion kickboxers or getting married and having just a daughter, of being able to focus on just one thing until they get it right, I really find it difficult to say anything to all that, better when the discussion turns to funerals and organ donations and worms, and then to brain transplants suddenly and what would it be like to have your brain transplanted into a woman’s body, he thought it would be novel for a while but then it would get boring, funny that, but the conversation’s still a bit limited, I mainly make encouraging grunts and nod a lot, and have to remember I’m the adult here, the carer, and three days ago I gave him the money to go to the shop and buy his own toothbrush and toothpaste, because he forgot to pack them before leaving his house in the south to stay with me in the north, which is quite revealing I suppose, and still he hasn’t opened that toothbrush, it sits there on the bathroom sink still in its packet does he think I haven’t noticed, and why can’t I bring myself to tell him, to do my job, just in some jokey way, hey is that your week-old socks I’m whiffing or is it the faint breeze sighing over those mucilaginous rocks?

1

Let’s look outward briefly, there’s an election on next week in the USA, it’s quite important, some Americans are surprised and miffed that foreigners are worried about the outcome and trying to bring a little intellectual pressure to bear, like I wonder if Iraqis aren’t feeling a bit miffed that they didn’t get much say in the last American election which has had some small influence on their lives, but anyway I predict a victory for Bush and more of the same, because like in Oz people are more interested in money than ethics, though I’m not sure that Bush has done so well domestically as this Howard government has. Enough politics, shall we talk about sex, I don’t expect to get any for the rest of my life, shall we talk about something else? Last night I watched Six Feet Under and they’ve been dealing inter alia with different forms of jealousy, the loud demonstrative Latino form with catscratching and destruction of property and the slow-burning form with the occasional explosion of unreasonableness but still I don’t get it, the jealousy thing, and Sarah tells me she’s not interested in hearing ever again my theories of non-possessive, non-exclusive love, so that I can’t even tell her that I don’t play with theories about such things, that it’s not an intellectual game, all I try to do is observe my heart, my sensations, my being and try to make sense of it, and I just don’t feel this jealousy thing and I naturally wonder about it, why and what it is, and why people feel so uncomfortable about this lack in me and is it that I’m incapable of love, but I know for sure I can get obsessed with one person, heartsqueezily painfully, while tinkering around with sexual fantasies of others around the edges, like I was reading stuff on Bjork the other day, in the Big Issue, and there were a couple of pickies of her worth drooling over, ah futility I need to get out more, buy a stepometer, yesterday at work I arranged with Rob L to buy a mountain bike off him, a bargain at $100 he says, and he’s even going to lend it me for a week before I decide to buy, could be the start of the big turnaround to eternal youth and virility before I die. Canine implants next. And what about a cure for my acid tum, and lately, Sarah tells me this is another sign of middle age, lately I’ve been suffering burning throbbing pains on the soles of my feet, yes your old feet start to get thin-skinned, but hey genius doesn’t complain, genius just runs straight against the wind, wonder how old Kierkegaard was when he wrote that. Well now time to get off here, my bum’s too flat, time to clean my teeth and floss and shave my head and maybe my pubes and think about exercise and going to the gym which I definitely won’t do.