New Beginnings
*
How was it possible? As if by magic, suddenly he was in the ever fascinating city of Bangkok. He watched a crippled monk in the street with wheelchair and begging bowl. He was exhausted, there wasn't too much doubt about that. He watched Thai teenagers, only a year or two younger than his own, swapping homework in MacDonalds on their way to school. He was exhausted to the bone. Would the tumult and the shouting never die down? It was muggy, muggy all the time; and his head was doing "head miles" as they used to call it in the old days; and he was friendly to all. The city spread out vast and chaotic in every direction.
The traffic, because he was not part of it, was choked wherever they tried to go. There were no apparent road rules. The mugginess and the sweat made him feel even more exhausted. He wanted to be straight and he wanted to be in the bars with all the rest of the "falangs"; getting drunk and obnoxious and pulling gorgeous girls towards him. There wasn't any easy solution. He felt disturbed; and yet nothing was seriously wrong. He could feel himself sliding towards oblivion, yet hadn't touched a drop. He was sure there would be other solutions, other places to be. But now, there was darkness and death and everything in between; as if fate had deliberately infected him.
The pool burbled outside. Nothing was right. The man down the road brought them chicken and rice for lunch. He tipped the taxi drivers generously by local standards, although it was only a few dollars. He made instant friends but lost them by the end of a short ride. He caught the dark swirl of another person, another life, another being trying to break into existence. The old constructs were collapsing and he didn't know what to put in their place. Ian showed up in Bangkok a couple of days later; and he didn't know what to do with him. He just wanted to get drunk in the bars and get laid, get a nice Thai girlfriend, have fun, be adored and adoring.
They sat in an open market on Sukhumvit Road and watched a gorgeous looking girl in a tiger dress. All the curves in all the right places. They were reduced to babbling morons, Westerners, as they oggled one dazzling looker after another. It was all that could be done. The babble of Bangkok was all around him; and yet here, in this upmarket house on Soi 85, he could hear the roosters crowing in the morning and watch the squirrels chirruping as they jumped from tree to tree. He could hear the high note poing poing of exactly the same birds he sometimes heard in Sydney.
You young, strong, very handsome man said the woman who made him iced coffees in the morning. It hadn't rained once since he had been here; while Sydney had been wet for days, what seemed like weeks, on end. A cruel and indifferent summer, not his summer, someone else's, those young hard bodies jogging on the beach, moving past him as if he was entirely invisible. No one told him he was young, strong and handsome in Sydney. There he was a clapped out old hasbeen clinging to dignity, clinging to illusions of destiny, writing still although he had no idea why.
He had left his children behind, and although they were in their final teenage years now and could well live without him, it still marked the end of an era, John and the kids. He had always said: I miss them, and they haven't even left yet. But thus it was to be. He marched and he marched, through all the different times and species, leaves brushing against him, fingers reaching out. Everyone wanted something, that was for certain. He watched down from the BST, the Bangkok Sky Train, at a one legged man pulling himself along the filthy street, his clothes black from the street, his begging bowl in front of him. The shopkeepers paid him no heed. Another Western couple near him watched the same scene play out. And he wondered in the upmarket cool of the Siam Centre, the airconditioning a relief after the stifling streets. There was Gucci and Hermes and everything else; and yes, even here you could spend $30,000 on a handbag.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/afghanistan/article7025889.ece
Allied troops launched a major, critical offensive into Afghanistan’s most violent province last night, part of President Obama’s push to seize control of the Taleban’s last big stronghold.
The US-led assault, including 4,000 British troops, is the first since Mr Obama ordered 35,000 extra troops to Afghanistan in December.
It is the start of a campaign to impose government control on rebel-held areas this year, before US forces start to withdraw by the President’s self-imposed 2011 deadline.
If it fails, many analysts believe the war will be lost.
About 4,500 US Marines, 1,500 Afghan troops and 300 US soldiers are taking part in the offensive in Marjah, in Helmand province, a Taleban stronghold where British and American troops have suffered heavy casualties in the past year.
One local Taleban commander, Qari Fazluddin, told Reuters earlier in the day that some 2,000 men were ready to fight in Marjah, a densely populated area where the Taleban are able to merge with the civilian population, complicating the task in taking on the enemy.
The Taleban had clear warning of the offensive, which is the vanguard of Mr Obama’s last chance to bring the Taleban and al-Qaeda insurgency to heel. Afghan and international forces gearing up for the offensive dropped leaflets hours before the offensive began warning people not to give shelter to the Taleban
http://news.smh.com.au/breaking-news-national/garrett-warned-over-insulation-report-20100213-nxuy.html
It's been reported that embattled Environment Minister Peter Garrett was warned by several insulation industry figures that cheap ceiling insulation imports contained the chemical formaldehyde.
The fresh claims concerning the insulation products come after Mr Garrett was accused by Liberals in Parliament of ignoring 13 warnings of safety problems that led to the death of four roof insulation installers.
It has now emerged that several insulation industry leaders raised concerns with the environment minister about formaldehyde in batts being imported from China, Thailand and the US, News Ltd says.
One insulation industry figure, Warrick Batt, says he raised concerns about formaldehyde in imported insulation products with Mr Garrett three times in the past six months.
"I told him we were aware some imported product had high levels of formaldehyde," Mr Batt told News Ltd.
"Mr Garrett effectively said if that was the case, and we could prove it, he would call for action to be taken."
Formaldehyde, which has been linked to respiratory problems and cancer, is not specifically banned in Australia.
On December 18, the Polyester Insulation Manufacturers Association lodged a submission with the government specifically warning about formaldehyde, News Ltd said.
Opposition Environment Spokesman Greg Hunt said it would be gross negligence if the government allowed Australian's health to be put at risk.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article7025808.ece
Scores of mourners attended an East London funeral yesterday for the mother of one of the fashion world’s favourite sons, whose apparent suicide added to the sadness of the occasion.
Joyce McQueen, 75, was laid to rest as speculation continued over what had caused her beloved son Alexander McQueen to apparently take his own life 24 hours earlier.
A post-mortem examination of the fashion designer’s body is due to be conducted on Monday, with an inquest expected to be opened on Wednesday. Police reiterated yesterday that there were no suspicious circumstances.
Yesterday, at Manor Park Cemetery, about 100 family members and friends paid their last respects to Mrs McQueen. It is understood that the family had considered postponing the funeral. There was little of the brashness and glitz of the fashion world and those attending were drawn from the circle of family friends who had known the pair from before McQueen’s rise to fame.
Mrs McQueen was buried mid-afternoon; the plot next to her lay vacant, leading to speculation that her son, who once said that his greatest fear was dying before his mum, would be laid next to her.
McQueen’s older brother Michael, 49, issued a short statement in the morning on behalf of the family. He said they were still in shock after the discovery of McQueen’s body at his Mayfair flat on Wednesday. “It is just so raw. We are grieving. Everyone is too upset to say anything. But Mum’s funeral is going ahead. It has all been arranged,” he said.
How was it possible? As if by magic, suddenly he was in the ever fascinating city of Bangkok. He watched a crippled monk in the street with wheelchair and begging bowl. He was exhausted, there wasn't too much doubt about that. He watched Thai teenagers, only a year or two younger than his own, swapping homework in MacDonalds on their way to school. He was exhausted to the bone. Would the tumult and the shouting never die down? It was muggy, muggy all the time; and his head was doing "head miles" as they used to call it in the old days; and he was friendly to all. The city spread out vast and chaotic in every direction.
The traffic, because he was not part of it, was choked wherever they tried to go. There were no apparent road rules. The mugginess and the sweat made him feel even more exhausted. He wanted to be straight and he wanted to be in the bars with all the rest of the "falangs"; getting drunk and obnoxious and pulling gorgeous girls towards him. There wasn't any easy solution. He felt disturbed; and yet nothing was seriously wrong. He could feel himself sliding towards oblivion, yet hadn't touched a drop. He was sure there would be other solutions, other places to be. But now, there was darkness and death and everything in between; as if fate had deliberately infected him.
The pool burbled outside. Nothing was right. The man down the road brought them chicken and rice for lunch. He tipped the taxi drivers generously by local standards, although it was only a few dollars. He made instant friends but lost them by the end of a short ride. He caught the dark swirl of another person, another life, another being trying to break into existence. The old constructs were collapsing and he didn't know what to put in their place. Ian showed up in Bangkok a couple of days later; and he didn't know what to do with him. He just wanted to get drunk in the bars and get laid, get a nice Thai girlfriend, have fun, be adored and adoring.
They sat in an open market on Sukhumvit Road and watched a gorgeous looking girl in a tiger dress. All the curves in all the right places. They were reduced to babbling morons, Westerners, as they oggled one dazzling looker after another. It was all that could be done. The babble of Bangkok was all around him; and yet here, in this upmarket house on Soi 85, he could hear the roosters crowing in the morning and watch the squirrels chirruping as they jumped from tree to tree. He could hear the high note poing poing of exactly the same birds he sometimes heard in Sydney.
You young, strong, very handsome man said the woman who made him iced coffees in the morning. It hadn't rained once since he had been here; while Sydney had been wet for days, what seemed like weeks, on end. A cruel and indifferent summer, not his summer, someone else's, those young hard bodies jogging on the beach, moving past him as if he was entirely invisible. No one told him he was young, strong and handsome in Sydney. There he was a clapped out old hasbeen clinging to dignity, clinging to illusions of destiny, writing still although he had no idea why.
He had left his children behind, and although they were in their final teenage years now and could well live without him, it still marked the end of an era, John and the kids. He had always said: I miss them, and they haven't even left yet. But thus it was to be. He marched and he marched, through all the different times and species, leaves brushing against him, fingers reaching out. Everyone wanted something, that was for certain. He watched down from the BST, the Bangkok Sky Train, at a one legged man pulling himself along the filthy street, his clothes black from the street, his begging bowl in front of him. The shopkeepers paid him no heed. Another Western couple near him watched the same scene play out. And he wondered in the upmarket cool of the Siam Centre, the airconditioning a relief after the stifling streets. There was Gucci and Hermes and everything else; and yes, even here you could spend $30,000 on a handbag.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/afghanistan/article7025889.ece
Allied troops launched a major, critical offensive into Afghanistan’s most violent province last night, part of President Obama’s push to seize control of the Taleban’s last big stronghold.
The US-led assault, including 4,000 British troops, is the first since Mr Obama ordered 35,000 extra troops to Afghanistan in December.
It is the start of a campaign to impose government control on rebel-held areas this year, before US forces start to withdraw by the President’s self-imposed 2011 deadline.
If it fails, many analysts believe the war will be lost.
About 4,500 US Marines, 1,500 Afghan troops and 300 US soldiers are taking part in the offensive in Marjah, in Helmand province, a Taleban stronghold where British and American troops have suffered heavy casualties in the past year.
One local Taleban commander, Qari Fazluddin, told Reuters earlier in the day that some 2,000 men were ready to fight in Marjah, a densely populated area where the Taleban are able to merge with the civilian population, complicating the task in taking on the enemy.
The Taleban had clear warning of the offensive, which is the vanguard of Mr Obama’s last chance to bring the Taleban and al-Qaeda insurgency to heel. Afghan and international forces gearing up for the offensive dropped leaflets hours before the offensive began warning people not to give shelter to the Taleban
http://news.smh.com.au/breaking-news-national/garrett-warned-over-insulation-report-20100213-nxuy.html
It's been reported that embattled Environment Minister Peter Garrett was warned by several insulation industry figures that cheap ceiling insulation imports contained the chemical formaldehyde.
The fresh claims concerning the insulation products come after Mr Garrett was accused by Liberals in Parliament of ignoring 13 warnings of safety problems that led to the death of four roof insulation installers.
It has now emerged that several insulation industry leaders raised concerns with the environment minister about formaldehyde in batts being imported from China, Thailand and the US, News Ltd says.
One insulation industry figure, Warrick Batt, says he raised concerns about formaldehyde in imported insulation products with Mr Garrett three times in the past six months.
"I told him we were aware some imported product had high levels of formaldehyde," Mr Batt told News Ltd.
"Mr Garrett effectively said if that was the case, and we could prove it, he would call for action to be taken."
Formaldehyde, which has been linked to respiratory problems and cancer, is not specifically banned in Australia.
On December 18, the Polyester Insulation Manufacturers Association lodged a submission with the government specifically warning about formaldehyde, News Ltd said.
Opposition Environment Spokesman Greg Hunt said it would be gross negligence if the government allowed Australian's health to be put at risk.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article7025808.ece
Scores of mourners attended an East London funeral yesterday for the mother of one of the fashion world’s favourite sons, whose apparent suicide added to the sadness of the occasion.
Joyce McQueen, 75, was laid to rest as speculation continued over what had caused her beloved son Alexander McQueen to apparently take his own life 24 hours earlier.
A post-mortem examination of the fashion designer’s body is due to be conducted on Monday, with an inquest expected to be opened on Wednesday. Police reiterated yesterday that there were no suspicious circumstances.
Yesterday, at Manor Park Cemetery, about 100 family members and friends paid their last respects to Mrs McQueen. It is understood that the family had considered postponing the funeral. There was little of the brashness and glitz of the fashion world and those attending were drawn from the circle of family friends who had known the pair from before McQueen’s rise to fame.
Mrs McQueen was buried mid-afternoon; the plot next to her lay vacant, leading to speculation that her son, who once said that his greatest fear was dying before his mum, would be laid next to her.
McQueen’s older brother Michael, 49, issued a short statement in the morning on behalf of the family. He said they were still in shock after the discovery of McQueen’s body at his Mayfair flat on Wednesday. “It is just so raw. We are grieving. Everyone is too upset to say anything. But Mum’s funeral is going ahead. It has all been arranged,” he said.
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