On matters of war and defence, government executives and journo elites are exclusive and elusive. They’re all too happy that peace is a fleeting pause between wars; to replenish ammunitions, the pockets of arms manufacturers and the ego of America.
Like rockstars called on tour they trash the hotel room, take advantage of their fan base, and bin their old songs for one hit wonders. All the while a corrupt entourage gleefully rubs their hands together.
The average, non-elite, music punter is disillusioned by this hedonistic behaviour and no longer turns up to gigs. For them, unearthing new talent that doesn’t collapse under the trappings of the limelight is a formidable and recurring task.
At the concert of democracy citizens also tire of the red roped gold bollarded off policy section of war. They tire of those “names at the door” privileged few and their media paparazzi ushered in with every election.
But before the main show, a support act, performance art by Journalists Jim, John, Jack, Peter, Andrew and Greg (not their real names except for maybe one or two) dramatically takes centre stage. Their play, The Road to Peace is Through a War with China: A Retrospective celebrates the 20th Anniversary of the Iraq war.
In a press release they state, “We’ve drawn insights from the alarmist propaganda campaign that brought on the Iraq war, spear headed by Murdoch media and the New York times and come up with a script of peace for our times”.
In a post-performance press conference checking her reality, journalist Lauren (not really her real name) questions the quality of peace as an outcome of the Iraq war to which Greg replies, “look, the Americans and their allies are very good and that’s why we’re with them. They got rid of Saddam Hussein in a matter of days and rebuilt the country in 90, inspiring stuff. Inner West council can’t even give me preplanning approval for a new letter box, and it’s been a year!”
Peter buts in, “We have conducted independent research, inviting a bunch of war hawks and one, one winged peace dove to battle it out in a specially designed Sydney Morning Herald echo chamber”.
Andrew gives a little nod to Peter, “coming up with the punch line, Red Alert, was the result of an intensive creative workshop, led by Peter”. Lauren explores this more and Matthew elaborates, “I was immediately impressed when Peter wrote Just 45min From Attack on the whiteboard. If you remember Lauren this was the famous pro Iraq war Daily Mail headline.”
Lauren brings up the inconvenient dodgy intelligence dossier, “aren’t you concerned that the script and punch line you’ve written is based on a false narrative?” In prima donna fashion the performers shut the press conference down.
Leaked notes from the SMH in-house therapist suggest that the journalists, among other things, held jealous crushes on the embedded American journos of the Iraq War.
She writes, “it would appear from the comfort of 7500kms from China, they have designed a vicarious sexy frontline. By jumping into a comfy bed with others with close ties to gigolo America, they are fulfilling a repressed embed fantasy with a distanced in bed delusion. In conclusion she writes, there is some kind of ego, id and super ego attention seeking battle in play.”
Speaking from his grave John Lennon affirms the therapist’s assessment, “It’s offensive to me and Yoko, that our bed-ins for peace movement that commenced on the 20th of March, which coincidently is also the anniversary date of the Iraq War, has been hijacked by these egotistical clowns.”
To dampen the journalist’s hot bed and star status fantasy, art critic and former prime minister Paul Keating, explains that the script is too panache; the war, peace and sex context are poorly executed.
Speaking from experience Keating says, “when your partner rejects your red wine and hors d’oeuvre advances you need to rethink your foreplay strategy. Even I can suspend my ego under these conditions — on ya bike back to BWS and the deli and remember that whatever happens, don’t go all nuclear and defensive”.
Humiliated and still drying off from Keating’s wet blanket minus one star review, the journalists slip slide onto national television.
Peter, in his well-rehearsed earnest tones, ramps up his intimate intimations with gigolo America. He tells the panel: “With a pat on my bum and a whisper in my ear, the CIA tell me that war with China is imminent, and we should be ready for it in 20 years or so”.
The panel, enamoured by Peter’s up-close reveal, sweat-up and wipe away any speculation. With a visible eye roll, panel member Lauren quietly reflects on an ex she dumped as his climax not only happened in isolation but typically days late.
Lauren jet sets off to a stage in San Diego that resembles something like a hard rock café where brat pack leaders of the free world dance with romantic giddiness to Orchestral Manoeuvres in The Dark (OMD), I touch once I touch you twice, I won’t let go at any price.
Displaying some very cringy moves, like the parent dance at the end of prom night, she feels a little nauseated. Sucking down his kool aide pop and wearing a large sign with his name around his neck, Albanese rummages in his USA party bag and pulls out a pair of aviators. A change in music, Simple Minds: Don’t you forget about me, prompts him to step up to the lectern.
He declares that thanks to AUKUS he has finally come of age, “I’ve always been a late developer, I was misguided by my 80’s Billy Bragg anti-elite record collection but the pentagon issued me with yuppy pop culture soundtracks. I’m transformed”.
Lauren perplexed with this bizarre retro mash up spectacle asks, “have you also abandoned your Gang Gajang 80’s election victory song, Sounds of Then (This is Australia), isn’t that a more sovereign tune to be dancing to?”
“Look Lauren, Gang Gajang, didn’t even have an MTV video clip when that song was released”. Interrupting Albo with support, President Biden interjects “I was initially sceptical that Albo’s lefty edge would undermine the alliance allegiance, but students at Quantico have been intensely case studying Albo for a couple of minutes this morning and I’m very proud of their misfit-into-fit intervention, mission accomplished!”
A scuffle ensues and Lauren turns to see a very tall protestor batting off secret service agents with a very large boom box playing US Forces…Divided world the CIA, say who control the issue. He is quickly gagged, hooded and taken off in an armoured SUV with Guantanamo Bay spray painted on the side. In a hot mic moment, Albo shaking his head muffling to Sunak and Biden, “… give it up Peter, the Oil’s never could sell records in America”.
Lauren composes herself and continues, “Prime minister since your 400 billion dollar AUKUS announcement, the room is starting to fill up with experts, activists, other labor politicians and more importantly the Australian public, will all these watchful eyes, the crowd of democracy, undo this embellished rockstar fantasy?”
Albo replies, “how voyeuristic of you Lauren. I personally like an audience watching me romance the United States of America. It underpins all my defence and war policy, regardless of what I said in opposition. Besides there’s only a few teats on the sacrificial war cow, we can’t all milk it”.
DJ Sunak, pushes play on the cassette recorder and Rick Astley’s song, Never Gonna Give you up …We’re no strangers to love, you know the rules and so do I…Lauren laments on the ludicrous spectacle, the excessive triumph of style over substance, display of the dissonance of democracy. Thinking it’ll be our children and grandchildren that’ll fight your wars, and if that doesn’t kill them, the money that could’ve been spent to prevent climate disaster will. With that she goes back to her hotel room to take a shower.
Kellie Merritt is a social worker who who has been a committee member with Australians for War Power Reform. Her husband FLT Paul Pardoel served with the RAAF for 15years. He transferred to the RAF Special Forces and worked on operations in Afghanistan and Iraq. Paul was killed while in Iraq when his RAF Hercules was shot down.
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