A lot of people seem to have been dying recently doing what they love – Steve Irwin died while filming something in the wild, Peter Brock died while driving fast and with any luck a few members of the Liberal Party might die while lying to the electorate. Ok, that was unkind, you shouldn’t wish anyone dead, that can’t be good Karma. Maybe they could just get seriously maimed… or at least locked up in Villawood. We could let refugee advocates interrogate them Abu Ghraib style to find out if John Howard really is having an affair with a well-known feminist (is it just me who keeps hearing that ridiculous rumour? And no, it’s not Germaine Greer – although that would make both them a lot more interesting). !>Family Ties!
Don’t get your knickers in a twist about the torture aspect. According to our good friend and close ally President Bush it’s not actually torture if you hurt someone while asking them stuff you really really really want to know. If you are only really interested, that would probably make it torture, but when it’s really really really important then things like pins in the eye, desecration of sacred texts and ritual humiliation are just “alternative procedures”.
Actually that sounds quite nice doesn’t it? The phrase “alternative procedures” rolls off the tongue quite easily. When I heard them trot that one out to describe the fact that the exemplar of Western Democracy – the U.S.A. – had secret prisons in other countries where pesky human rights laws didn’t get in the way of a good dose of water torture, I couldn’t get past the ironic use of the word “alternative”. I pictured some vegan feral from Earthcore boring suspected terrorists to death with their incoherent views and acid trance music. Don’t laugh my friend, the threat of a tahini and tofu slice would be enough to make me betray any cause.
But I must say, it seems a bit soft, you know to just bore people into dishing the dirt (no pun intended there with the Feral thing in the last paragraph). I say if you’re going to fundamentally abuse people’s human rights and in so-doing give up any pretence you had to moral authority, you may as well do it properly – fingernails being pulled out, sexual assult with batons, peanut butter on the bollocks and a hungry German Sheppard in the room. That shit gets RESULTS.
Ok, when it comes to getting the dirt from John about who his alleged mistress is, maybe hold off on the dogs licking their genitals caper – Hugh Worth would have something to say about that and lord knows I don’t want to incur his wrath – but a cattle prod or some strategically placed electric shocks and Johnny will confess to an affair with me after a while. (For the record, I’m not the “well-known feminist” mentioned above. Don’t get me wrong, I am a feminist – feminist with a sense of humour, Andrew Bolt just vomited – but I’m not “well-known” unless you count the fact that the Raw Grand Final from 2003 is still being shown on Qantas in-flight entertainment. I do get recognised a lot in air-ports).
You know, you probably wouldn’t have to go that far to get Johnny to tell you which base he got to and with whom. He’s not quite as manly as these Moozie towel-heads with their secrets and their bombs and their convictions. You could probably just threaten to take away his superannuation and he’d sing like a bird… Or get him to sit a test on “Australian Values” and see how many times he can say “a mate is someone who’s a good cobber who’s a mate who’s a good bloke and a mate and who’s not Un-Australian” without wanting to cut himself. That’ll never work, Howard would never use a double-negative, he’s too good for that.
Oh, oh I know! Speaking of doing what you love, maybe we could engineer it so that Kim Beasley chokes to death while eating a West Papuan! That way he could die a hero (doing what he loves like all heroes), Naomi Robson could get a cannibal story without worrying about Indonesian visas or being a racist fuck-wad and with Beasley out of the picture the Liberals might actually have a credible opposition to worry about. That would be about the closest thing to torture Little Johnny has experienced in a long while (it’s all relative you know). No animals would be harmed, Today Tonight would continue its quest for quality journalism and John Howard would keep getting laid. I know, I don’t want him to be happy either but let’s face it, he’s crabby enough now. Take away his imaginary feminist lady friend (I’m having a hard enough time believing that one woman wants to sleep with him) and their alleged relationship based on mutual respect, equality and the fair distribution of labour and he’s rooted (and not in a good way). Doing what you love – dangerous business if what you love is … dangerous.
Nelly Thomas is a Melbourne comedian