Will Lord Mayor Graham Quirk respond to resident’s invitation?
Lord Mayor Graham Quirk is rolling out the accolades for Brisbane, clearly relishing being the Mayor of the hippest, fastest growing, smartest and most business friendly city on the face of the planet.
The praise comes from a variety of sources, with the latest label being added to Quirk’s Christmas Tree by the 2thinknow Innovation Cities Index which puts us at number 60 on their list of innovation hubs. 60 might seem like a long way from the top but Quirk quotes this as being in the top 15% and a leap of 25 places in one year, over the cities of Moscow, Abu Dhabi, Geneva, Edinburgh, Kuala Lumpur, Auckland, Wellington, Kobe, Shenzhen, Jakarta, Mumbai, Bangkok, Rome, Pittsburgh, Bristol, Madrid and Bonn.
The Hippest City in the Australia tag comes from Lonely Planet, which does not think Australia the hippest country in the world despite its down under roots. Similarly the Insight Index rating of Brisbane as the most business-friendly city in Australia is a local rating by a local agency.
Still the London Times Financial Magazine rates us as one of the ten top Asian cities of the future, though how far away that future is, and whether the residents of Shanghai, Manila and Hanoi consider us Asian remain unanswered questions.
Far be it for Westender to rain on Lord Mayor Quirk’s parade. We enjoy a good gong as much as the next goon and will line up with the mainstream media to eat hors d’oeuvres in our collective honour. Just a pity we have sworn off the booze, forever. I bet there is a nice sparkling chardonnay being flung about City Hall by the hospitality crew to celebrate the occasion.
Hockey’s budget is a Ma and Pa conspiracy to run off with the housekeeping
Psychic’s don’t win the lottery so I should have known better. I like risk though, so I bet against the petrol levy. I hope none of you went out and put the farm on SportsBet. “Too bad, so sad” if you did. I lost the farm shortly after I lost the plot.
The evidence is simple, but you will have to follow the bouncing ball for the rest of this piece.
The government talks as if it is the equivalent of a very large household and that if the budget does not add up then then we will all suffer.
The analogy does not hold.
The government is one member of a very large household. Since it is a bunch of old white men, it is tempting to assign it the role of the father in our analogy but, in fact, the government is more like this bunch of old, white men’s traditional view of the mother.
The father’s role we will give to international trade: The money that comes in and out of the country/family. The net exports, aka the balance of trade, in this analogy is the amount of money that papa puts on the table. He pays the builder, buys the cars and the holidays.
Mama, our government, takes some of that money to feed the little kids who do not earn, to provide the services that this traditional family need and on the side she does a couple of things that bring in a bit of extra revenue. She makes up the difference in nanna flat rent, Air B and B on the spare room and the household allowance from Dad. That, if you like, is the mama tax.
The rest of us – the nation’s businesses, workers and consumers, aka the private sector, are the kids, the boarders and nana in the flat out the back that was once a garage. We dip into the family resources, sure, but we also bring back a reasonable amount of loot from our wanderings. Since we put the Air B and B advertisement online, there has been enough money for us all to upgrade our phones and buy a couple of nice items of clothing. Well done Mum.
If you look at the overall budget, Dad generally brings in more than he spends, if he doesn’t the rest of us are going to have to work pretty hard to keep the boat afloat. On the other hand, Mama often spends more than she earns.
So those three sectors together form the household. Of course the household budget has to balance. If Dad and Mum are making money, life is pretty cushy for the kids. In those houses that struggle to make ends meet the kids are out there working, and paying board.
I once had an affair with an economist who called this sectoral balance. He insisted my household analogy over simplifies the issue. No-one could understand a word he said so I shifted my affections to a saxophone player and kept on using this household analogy. Most people get it and if it annoys a certain sad duck well that suits me just fine. Not that I’m bitter, just vengeful.
Let us leave vengeance cooling so it can be served better later and return to our analagous household.
If Dad stops earning and we have a trade deficit, then times will be tight. Nanna’s rent might go up, the kids might start paying board, the violin lessons might stop. If Dad and Mum reduce spending at the same time, then the cost of living will go sky high. The economist ex calls this the thrift paradox of macro-economics. It is the problem with austerity measures. By trying to balance the economy, you push the cost of living up and make everyone, especially the poor majority suffer.
The paradox is hidden by the government pretending that Mama’s budget is the budget for the whole household. It is ignoring Dad’s contribution and the fact that there is actually a reasonable amount of money on the table from the various hangers on.
So, Mama has to balance her budget by feeding us less, stemming our bleeding wounds with rags from the bag on the back of the laundry door, and refusing to pay for our magazines, school books and phone cards. We have to fend for ourselves now, in the interests of a more ruthless, market-driven family.
Dad is rapt. Without the strain of all those brats on his weekly wage he can spend a bit more on his golf clubs, next car and whatever else takes his fancy. Nanna and the boarders don’t give a toss. If there is a better quality of toilet paper on the hanger and a maid does the cleaning instead of Mum then so be it. It is the kids who suffer.
In this government’s official model of the economy, though, that does not matter. At least Mama’s budget balances.
There is a more awful thruth, though: balancing Mum’s budget without reference to Dad’s (the trade deficit, if you have wandered off) means they are bleeding the rest of us dry, not for financial reasons, but as First Dog on the Moon puts it, as part of a “payback budget”.
A cynic might think that Mama has been plotting with Dad and no longer has the kid’s well being as her top priority. In what could be a working definition of corporate feudalism, Ma and Pa have their hand in the cookie jar and are conspiring to run away with the housekeeping.
The age of enlightenment is indeed over, we are deep in the counter-reformation.
Just an aside: The lack of psychics winning the lottery is clear evidence of their failings. In the same way the absence of time travellers in our midst probably precludes the possibility of it ever being invented. No?
Petrol prices will not rise in this budget. For all the wrong reasons
Okay. Alright already. Just ‘cos I correctly predicted the result of the Griffith by-election does not make me a seer. DJ Greyboy’s French Bulldog would have predicted that result without putting her snout over the pink-ribboned lip of her bling-lined basket.
But. I know human behaviour and I can recognise a bunch of old ,white men having a bit of fun with the national budget at the expense of the media when I see it.
The talk about an increase in the petrol levy is a red herring, designed to keep everyone talking about anything except the real problem. And that is: the more the government cuts to balance the budget, the more the rest of us have to reach into our pocket.
The problem is that the government talks as if it is the equivalent of a very large household and that if the budget does not add up then then we will all suffer.
The analogy does not hold.
The government is one member of a very large household. Since it is a bunch of old white men, it is tempting to give it the role of the father but, in fact, it is more like this bunch of old, white men’s traditional view of the mother.
The father’s role we will give to international trade: The money that comes in and out of the country/family. In this analogy, the balance of trade is the amount of money that papa puts on the table. He pays the builder, buys the cars and the holidays.
Mama, the government, takes some of that money to feed the little kids who do not earn, to provide the services that this traditional family need and on the side she does a couple of things that bring in a bit of extra revenue. She makes up the difference in nanna flat rent, Air B and B on the spare room and the household allowance from Dad. That, if you like, is the mama tax.
The rest of us – the nation’s businesses, workers and consumers – are the kids, the boarders and nana in the flat out the back that was once a garage. We dip into the family resources pretty substantially but we also bring back a reasonable amount of loot from our wanderings. Since we put the Air B and B advertisement online, there has been enough money for us all to upgrade our phones and buy a couple of nice items of clothing. Well done Mum.
If you look at the overall budget, Dad generally brings in more than he spends, if he doesn’t the rest of us are going to have to work pretty hard to keep the boat afloat. On the other hand, Mama often spends more than she earns.
So those three sectors together form the household. Of course the household budget has to balance. That is the nature of things. If Dad stops earning and we have a trade deficit, then times will be tight. Nanna’s rent might go up, the kids might start paying board, the violin lessons might stop.
I once had an affair with an economist who called this the twin deficit theory of macro-economics. No-one could understand a word he said so I shifted my affections to a saxophone player and have kept on using this household analogy. Most people get it and if it annoys a certain sad duck well that suits me just fine. Not that I’m bitter, just vengeful.
What this government is doing, is pretending that Mama’s budget is the budget for the whole household. It is ignoring Dad’s contribution and the fact that there is actually a reasonable amount of money on the table from the various hangers on.
So, Mama has to balance her budget by feeding us less, stemming our bleeding wounds with rags from the bag on the back of the laundry door, and refusing to pay for our magazines, school books and phone cards. We have to fend for ourselves now, in the interests of a more ruthless, market-driven family.
Dad is rapt. Without the strain of all those brats on his weekly wage he can spend a bit more on his golf clubs, next car and whatever else takes his fancy. Nanna and the boarders don’t give a toss. If there is a better quality of toilet paper on the hanger and a maid does the cleaning instead of Mum then so be it. It is the kids who suffer.
In this government’s model of the economy, though, that does not matter. At least Mama’s budget balances.
A cynic might think that Mama has been plotting with Dad and no longer has the kid’s well being as her top priority.
So despite the vast expenditure, the signs on every Belle Property regardless of owner or tenant approval, the announcement by the Brisbane City Council that it would not enforce its own electoral signage by laws, the voters grimly went out and voted exactly the same way they did last time.
You can count the people who changed their vote.
A handful of extra votes for the Secular Party.
A couple of hundred extra for the little Green man.
Half of Palmer’s three thousand facebook friends went to the Pirate Party and the others sprinkled themselves across the micro parties generally. They do not like politicians.
The only significant move at all is the thousand fans of one K Rudd deserted the ALP and voted for Abbott instead. These are the people for whom Rudd lurched to the right, damning international refugees to prison islands as the international cartel running the penal colony of Australia has always done.
Think Port Arthur, think Norfolk, think Palm Island. Think of the prisoners chained to the fort just off Sydney Cove. If you don’t line up for your loaf of bread and bucket of rum we will whip you. If you will not submit to the whip then we will chain you to a rock in the middle of the sea and laugh at you rotting in the high tide, while we have our Sunday sandwiches.
It is the Australian way.
So after all of that, we have a Labor representative in Griffith.
Well we would if Glasson would concede, but there could be a surprise in the postal votes and we won’t give up until they are all opened. We learned that from George Dubya didn’t we? Don’t give up until you have exhausted every challenge, tried every trick and cooked every book that can be cooked.
Glasson, you told us you are an honourable man and not a creature of the party. Concede. Go back to the family, back to the practice, back to helping your patients see.
Or have you been poisoned in the process?
Did the intervention get under your skin?
Did the power of riding into town on a jeep with the army behind you as the medical arm of the liberator go to your head?
Get out now while you still have your dignity, your humanity.
Go and rewatch the Boy in the Striped Pyjamas and decide what sacrifice you are prepared to make.
And dear reader, if your name is not Bill Glasson, if you are one of the 50,000 who voted for the progressive cause on Saturday, gird your loins and clear the decks. When you read Damien Smith’s plea for liberty, think about how you will participate in the coming fight to restore humanity to Australian politics before we start disappearing.
Grill a Green, nail a Nat and lambast a Labor candidate. Whatever the colour of your campaign t-shirt, quizz a candidate on the evening of Wednesday February 5th, in West End just before the by-election for Griffith. All candidates are invited and the format will depend a little on who accepts the invitation.
The venue is the Souths League Club in Davies Park at the corner of Jane and Montague Street.
Get along to see your candidate stare down the crowd and their competitors for the crown of representing you in the Big House this year. This is a great opportunity to have your say and get out with your tribe to exercise your democratic muscle. As well as a sea of red, green and blue t-shirts we can expect the other eight candidates to field supporters.
Click below for the Westender story on the candidate or, failing that, the candidate statement. Don’t forget to register your questions using the comment box below.
The election is no foregone conclusion and we expect good media coverage so it might just make the difference. Be there to be sure that if it does, it makes the difference you want to see.
The Good Burghers of Griffith can’t laugh along with Kevin no more
Spoiler alert: Griffith by-election result is announced on this article. Do not read until February 9 if you intend to enjoy the election.
Most Australians and nearly all Queenslanders are heartily sick of politics: None more so than the people of Griffith. They adored the Ruddster with rock-fan like devotion only to be let down again and again. And then, again. Rudd’s ‘good burghers’ (ironically, the line was used sarcastically by the Greens in the 2007 campaign) are now forced back to the poll because he could not see out a term on the back bench – despite explicitly promising to do exactly that.
Ci’est la vie, that was then this is now, and a fresh bunch of candidates line up to tickle our collective fancy. Only problem is, gee whizz, those candidates are not so fresh. Ebbs and Glasson are old white guys, coming back for a second round, determined to prove something to themselves and their long-suffering wives. Battle-worn and proud, they will display their scars claiming experience and wisdom, ‘cause that’s what old guys do.
Glasson wants us to remember that he is a doctor, “trust me”, gets things done and will unshackle small business from all that awful red and green tape. Don’t worry about that nasty Prime Minister in Canberra and the shenanigans of the party I represent, when we get back far enough to the past it will all fall into place and you CAN “trust me”, remember.
Ebbs is valiantly trying to get the media to recognise that the sky is falling, the Greens are really a Rhode Island Red and it is completely unfair that coverage is focussed on whether Terri or Bill will dosh out the biggest pile of pork(ies) to their constituents.
Well, sorry Sir, this is the class of 2014 and we want bread, circuses and cheap grain and we don’t care if our government rips the guts out of some over-crowded country to feed our faces, even if hell on earth comes to us in our old age. Some of us are not going to have to wait and I’m really annoyed because I am far too young to experience hell just quite yet.
No doubt Ebbs has a time capsule containing an unpublished novel titled I Told You So already stashed away somewhere about his person. I call it the suppository of righteousness.
So, the Fresh New Face is Butler who will help redress the gender balance in Canberra, is probably of immigrant stock, has good labour lawyer credentials and a background fighting on behalf of the unions and … hang on that sounds quite familiar too. Where is it, my god, was she the Prime Minister … it seems like aeons ago. No! Butler is new but the story is familiar. I call her the Apparat Chick.
And then there is the line up.
Bless their cotton-socks, they step up to exercise their democratic muscle, inspired by the success of the Shooters in NSW, the Motor Sports mob in WA (or is he going back to the polls?), Katter in Queensland (or is he last year’s story?) and Palmer everywhere (will he really repeal ALL of Newman’s laws?)
Most of them are wonderful people, sincere and ready to put their own personal cash in the kitty for the cause because they believe. If only they could get the message out and other people would believe too.
They love Ebbs because his suppository of righteousness is bigger than theirs, but they have to punish him because he can’t put them all first, I mean second, and he’s a smooth talker and if only he would see the light and promote their cause just a bit more then they would do as well as he does and that would be much more even-handed and fair, even if it doesn’t much change the result. <breathe>
So punters, get in amongst it and press the flesh. Give it a squeeze to see if it bleeds and to find out if I am right-on-the-money or simply a bitter-and-twisted, post-modern, over-hyphenating, cynical Gen-Alpha who knows that in the age of corporate-feudalism these idealists are tragic clowns, meat for the blood-sport that is the daily media.
Get to the Westender Meet-the-Candidates at Souths on Feb 5th and see for yourself. Then re-read this and weep.
Feel free to let me know what you think because I won’t be taking any notice, I already know the result. The Apparat Chick will cream the old white men. See, I’m from the future and I know where you live.
