Illustration by Blair McFarland.

By Blair and Jenny McFarland

Newcomer to Blunderland? Catch up with Julia’s previous adventures in Part One, Part Two, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5

The green caterpillar was interrupted by two fat little boys appearing.

“Oh no,” said the mouse. “TweedleJohn and TweedleKev.”

“The Intervention isn’t racist. We plan to oppress all people on benefits, not just Indigenous Australians,” said TweedleJohn, elbowing TweedleKev in the ribs.

“And I plan a stunningly moving apology in a few years” said TweedleKev, pinching TweedleJohn on the bum.

“Listen, you Liberal flunky, the Intervention was just a publicity stunt. The first thing you did when you came into power was dismantle ATSIC, to mainstream the services they used to provide, then 10 years later on, surprise! surprise! There’s a crisis in Indigenous communities”

“That’s why we renamed it the NT Emergency Response, especially after the focus groups said Intervention sounded too racist.”

“So how is it an emergency if it’s been happening for 50 years?” asked the Mouse, pointing his mike at the two of them.

“Obviously because people on the east coast found out about it,” said TweedleJohn. “We knew we might be going to lose the election, so we set up an ongoing car crash before handing over the steering wheel.”

“Yes, thanks a lot for that,” sneered TweedleKev.  “But we knew what you were up to an stayed quiet, knowing we’d just split the vote if we tried to stop you.”

“Yes,” gloated TweedleJohn.  “By taking the high moral ground early on, we set it up that anyone who opposed the Intervention was clearly on the side of the paedophiles.”

“And the cost to the Indigenous community, with the men labelled as child molesters, was an acceptable side effect.”

“Clearly. In fact, it made it easier to strip their rights away, once we added the TweedleJohn clause to the Racial Discrimination Act.”

“Which was …?” asked the Mouse.

“It’s in technical legal language, but it boils down to ‘unless we want to’.”

It was TweedleKev’s chance to gloat now.  “But we kicked your ass in the election, didn’t we?”

“Yes but that’s when you showed your true colours, you Labor apparatchik. You had your chance to change it all when you got into power, but you didn’t.  You listened to the bureaucrats I had already appointed and continued to Intervene in the same way. ”

Julia said:  “Why not change the name from Intervention to Community Development program and give the money to people who know how to use it?”

Both TweedleJohn and TweedleKev were momentarily stunned at this proposition.

“But surely, the situation just needs more Commonwealth bureaucrats?” they both said in unison.

To be continued

By Blair and Jenny McFarland

“Aren’t they silly” said a disembodied voice from the forest. Julia looked around and saw a smile hovering amongst the branches of a tree. A fat Corporate Cat slowly appeared, looking smug. “They should leave it to businessmen. We know how to get the job done.”

“How did you actually do?”

Looking a bit uncomfortable, but continuing to smile, the Corporate Cat said “We set up leadership initiatives to identify people who could Make a Difference. Check out the centrefold of our latest annual Report.”

Out of Julia’s apron pocket popped the mouse with the microphone “Didn’t all the people who did the leadership courses get fired from their jobs within weeks of finishing your program?

“Well, we understand some downsizing was needed of the expectations of the new batch of leaders on their return from the course in Geneva, and that the protoleaders elected to actively seek a more compliant follower base and took a career change opportunity.”

“And didn’t you commit to providing 50,000 jobs for Indigenous people? How did that go” asked the Mouse.

“Well” said the Corporate Cat, starting to fade away from sight “The media loved it on the day, and the public soon forgot all about it, but we did have great attendance at the BBQ we ran in a community in the Top End to discuss the strategy.”

Julia asked “So are you really committed to the region?”

The Corporate Cat was fading away, and soon all that she could see was the smile. “See you in our next Annual Report”

“Slippery character” said a voice. Julia turned and saw a green caterpillar sitting on a mushroom smoking a hookah. “You see him every few years.”

“You’ve been here a while?” asked Julia, who thought that might be an advantage in such a strange place.

“Too long” replied the caterpillar, taking a leisurely hit from his pipe ” and yet … has it been long enough?”

“How would I know? Have you been here for all the seasons?” asked Julia

“Yep, the whole majestic yearly funding cycle. Late winter the funding cycle gets started up. A few laps round the track in Canberra and it’s ready to hit the road, tho it’s blowing an alarming amount of smoke. Mal blames the pedafile rings. So it’s ready to go, but funding decisions can’t be made till allocations are sorted out between the politicians and senior cycle mechanics, which require a number of lengthy lunches at expensive restaurants. Got a light?”

“Yep. Got a box of redheads.”

To be continued

(Read Part One)

“There’s plenty of room” said Julia firmly and sat down.

“No there isn’t” said the man, who had a card in his hat that said the Mal Bluffer. “I’m very busy with the Port Keats COAG trial.”

The mouse roused itself and said:  “An independent report commissioned by the government said Port Keats was worse than when you started. It sez there were 60 different funding agreements when you started to rationalise the systems, and three years later there were 90.”

The mouse continued : “The residents are angry and just want some safety on the streets, but what they get are endlessly replicating committees of different strange bureaucrats with no-one in charge. How do you plan to fix it up?” The mouse was tired out by his question and fell asleep again.

“Time to move!” exclaimed the Mal Bluffer, shifting to a new dinner place.

The general spoke: “No good going that way. We’ve just spent more than the total budget of the independent health services to find out what everyone knew five years ago : the kids are sick.”

“How about here?” said Mal moving further south on the table.

“Nope, That’s where you shipped up demountables to solve the housing problem, but the demountables are still in storage three year later'”

“Damn! What about here? I seem to remember looking into the eyes of the women here and seeing love and gratitude. Didn’t we do something for them?”

“Sort of. We built them a BMX track but didn’t organise anyone to maintain it, so it’s mostly washed away and too dangerous to use.”

“How about out that way? Looks pretty boring for the kids.”

The general checked his clipoard. “Well, we paid some whitefellas to do heaps of things out there for a few years, but there’s nothing to show for it now. That cloud of dust heading for the coast is them and the money we gave them.”

“But didn’t we spend millions on remote communities?” asked the Mal Bluffer.

Well, we placed well paid Ginger Bread Men in dozens of communities, but that used up all the funding, so they couldn’t do anything.”

“But didn’t we quarantine people’s money for rent to fix up housing?” asked the Bluff.

“Yes, we have heaps of people’s rent money, collected directly from their benefits.”

“That’s great! We can fix up their houses. Where do they live?”

“We don’t know” admitted the General.

“But didn’t we decide some Aboriginal organizations weren’t being run well? How much money did we pay them?”

“We don’t know” stated the General sadly.

“Oh. Keep moving! There must be somewhere I haven’t been yet.”

Julia left them to it.

By Blair and Jenny McFarland

Chapter One: Down The Rabbit Hole

One day Julia was out walking in the electorate when she saw a black rabbit. It was standing next to a big dark hole.

“Is that your ancestral burrow?” she asked politely.

“No, missy, it something really scary. Nothing that ever go in here ever ever come out again. It’s the Hole of Government.”

Julia was always a curious soul, and she stepped closer to try to see in.

“I can see a book in there. It’s called The Little Children are Scarey Report. I’ll just …” Being a keen reader, she reached for the book without thinking, and …

Suddenly she was falling, falling, falling ’till she landed with a bump next to the Tum Tum Tree deep in the Fairy Forest.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed.

Looking around she saw she was in a very different place, with red sand and wide blue sky. All around her were big signs that said “No pornography!”

“And what good do you think pornography would be to me, when I ain’t got a pornograph to play it on?” asked the black rabbit. “Anyway I can’t wait. I have to get to a leadership program Centrelink is forcing me to attend.”

“But where are we? There’s nothing here” said Julia looking around for buildings and streets and other signs of civilization.

“This is the MT” explained the black rabbit. “Site of the MT Intervention, which is the most money ever spent on the place.” Checking his pocket watch, he dashed away.

Julia looked around. The red ranges on the horizon under a big blue dome of sky… The landscape started to whisper to her.

“Drink me” it seemed to say, and when she did drink in the red ranges, breathe in the blue sky and the black night so filled with stars, she started to grow. All that space went inside her and she grew and grew till she was a giant, gazing down at the stars.

Thoroughly confused by now, Julia headed for what looked like a clearing in the bush ahead. Nearby was a man sitting at a long table. Next to him a man in camouflage fatigues sat, and on the table was a mouse with a microphone sleeping on the rim of a latte.

“No room” the man called out in a panic, though the table had plenty of empty chairs. “We’ve had too much consultation already.”

Julia looked around. The only thing nearby was a burned out rusty old Troopie with ATSIC painted on the side, riddled with bullet holes.

To Be Continued