Flannery at 12 o’clock

Today is ANZAC Day in Australia and New Zealand. It seems an appropriate time to reflect on what Australia was and what it has become. (Sorry Kiwis: can’t comment on you this time, though I wish I could. Please forgive me for not coming this time – especially you, Josie Jackson, my Official Biographer and Kiwi wunderkind.)

I said the other day what a marvellous achievement it was, the way those early generations of Aussies turned a relentless hell into a fair approximation of paradise on earth. What I see now, however, is a fair proportion of the current generation doing their damnedest to reverse the process.

You can’t move a car to a different state without having to submit it to about A$400 worth of checks to make sure it’s roadworthy. You can’t run a fishing boat without having about 12 different permits. You can’t light a barbie pretty much anywhere unless you have at least two fire crews on hand with no less than 3,000 gallons of water, plus a doctorate in health and safety with regards to preparation of raw-meat products. You can’t kill a crocodile even though their populations are expanding so fast they’ll soon be overtaking humans. You can’t study at “Uni” without doing a mandatory course module explaining what you’re studying from the point of view of the “Traditional Owners” – (the people formerly known as Aborigines). You can’t earn a living as a fruit farmer in the Murray Darling basin because a bunch of Eco Fascists from the WWF say you can’t. You can’t open a mine without being told that what you’re doing is theft because, like, man, natural resources belong to everyone. You can’t chop down the trees on your land because they’re a “carbon sink” now, fulfilling Australia’s obligations under the Kyoto protocol to deal with the non-existent problem of CO2 (a plant food). You can’t have a thriving economy because that might discriminate against all the lazy bastards who don’t want to work so what you have to do is shackle it and hobble it with a mining tax and a carbon tax in order to redistribute wealth in the guise of “saving the planet.” I could go on. (Our own Ozboy has some further trenchant views on this subject)

I’ve been to Gallipoli. I have an idea what your ancestors went through in 1915. They did not give up their lives and limbs in order that you might surrender a century on to a bunch of wowsers.