buggery.org

In Australia, we have an independent, scientifically-qualified, organisation called the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) which is responsible for deciding whether medicines are safe and appropriate for use in Australia. Before any drug can be sold (whether over the counter or on prescription) it must first pass the TGA’s careful and stringent review process.

There is one exception to this eminently sensible, open and transparent process: a drug called mifepristone, better known as RU-486. It is approved for use in 35 countries, including the UK, many European countries, the United States and New Zealand, and has been used by 21 million women and has an excellent safety record.

Mifepristone is a “controversial” drug because it is used to terminate pregnancies. It works by blocking the action of a hormone which is required for the pregnancy to continue.

In Australia, RU-486 is not licensed and the TGA is not even allowed to consider licensing it. Because of a political deal done years ago to secure the support of conservative Catholic Senator Brian Harradine, the law says only the federal health minister (who is neither a doctor, a medical scientist nor a woman) can approve the use of this drug.

There is a Bill before the Parliament now which could erase this absurd arrangement and return the power to license (or refuse to license) RU-486 to the TGA. Sexual Health and Family Planning Australia have launched an online petition calling on the Parliament to pass the Bill. If you think the TGA, not the health minister, should decide which drugs are safe for Australians to use, sign the petition.

Brokeback Mountain opened in Australia last Thursday, Australia Day. When I picked up my pre-booked tickets from the Nova on Thursday morning, the cinema worker congratulated me for coming early. “You’ve got no idea what today’s gonna be like,” she said.

As well as being a public holiday, it was blisteringly hot in Melbourne and, when we returned to the cinema a few hours later for the film, it was clear that we weren’t the only people to seek out the comforting embrace of an air-conditioned cinema. The queue for the ticket booth was hundreds of people long, snaking through the downstairs shopping arcade and disappearing around a far corner.

Inside, settling down into our reserved seats (when was the last time your movie ticket had a seat allocation on it?), Brent tapped me on the elbow. “Got something for you.” A handkerchief. Smart boy. (more…)

• Nearly 100, LSD’s Father Ponders His ‘Problem Child’
  ”I know LSD; I don’t need to take it anymore,” Mr. Hofmann said. ”Maybe when I die, like Aldous Huxley,” who asked his wife for an injection of LSD to help him through the final painful throes of his fatal throat cancer. (New York Times, via plasticba
  (tags: people drugs hallucinogens lsd hoffman,albert)

Not sure where this originated (hat-tip to Kabi for sending it to me) or who the larrikins in the photo are, but this is too good not to share:

Note especially Hyacinth’s – er, Janette’s – expression in the back of the shot.

Editorial cartoon from today’s Age (that’s two Leunig cartoons I’ve posted in recent days; apologies to the artist).

For those who don’t get the references, the last week or so has been fiercely hot and windy here. Bushfires are a regular feature of our summers and this year’s bushfires are burning now – many hectares of forest have been destroyed and houses and some lives lost. There is more to come. Oh yes, and fridge magnets. It’s been a while since we’ve thought about our anti-terror fridge magnets.

• Gays hit in overseas nuptial bid (The Age)
  Not content with doing everything possible to ensure Australia is the last place on earth with full same-sex relationship recognition, Attorney-General Philip “The Cadaver” Ruddock is trying to stop queers marrying abroad.
  (tags: same-sex-marriage ruddock,philip legal queer)
• Am I TOP or NOT?
  Good for about 3½ minutes of amusement/titillation… Clinton’s a TOP and Bush is NOT (who knew?)
  (tags: queer funny)

Today’s Leunig cartoon in The Age is a reference to the recent resignation of Western Australian Premier Geoff Gallop, who announced he was suffering from depression.

With all the bad news about the government’s involvement in the rorting by the Australian Wheat Board of the UN oil-for-food program, I venture to say we could even see a resignation or two from the government’s ranks in the not-too-distant future. Fingers crossed.

After 21 days and nights and 3226 kilometres, we are home. The holiday road trip was relaxing, inspiring, energising, often hilarious and always filled with love and laughter. It’s good to be home, a bit sad to say goodbye to the road, but we have many happy memories to sustain us.

There’s a slew of additional photos on Flickr. I’ll upload more in coming days, and maybe find the inspiration to write a little about the journey, so please check back. I still have a week of holidays left, and plan to make the most of Melbourne’s summer weather as soon as the clouds clear.

• No Brokeback blackout (SMH)
  The Australian distributor of Brokeback Mountain has denied claims that the film will not be released in far north Queensland, where there are lots of cowboys but, says Bob Katter, none of them are gay. “It’s not a profession that attracts those sort of p
  (tags: film glbt katter,bob brokeback-mountain queensland queer)

It should be easier to relax. We’ve been here at Mystery Bay for a week and I’m only just starting to unwind now.

Our routine is settled. We rise and fall with the sun, which means we’re out of bed about 7 am and asleep again not long after 9 at night. In between there is a comfy hammock to lie in, a substantial travelling library, cold beer aplenty and a choice of three beaches or the lake.

Despite our proximity to the ocean it’s easy enough to remain partly ignorant of her presence. A dozen metres of thick scrubby bush separate our campsite from a jagged cliff and the endless arc of the Pacific. The ocean seems closer at night, when the crash of waves on those craggy rocks provides a soothing lullaby.

Yesterday I read Annie Proulx’s Brokeback Mountain for the first time. It’s a sad and singeing tale of lost opportunity, told in spare and beautiful language. I’m glad I read it before seeing the movie, which is still a couple of weeks away from opening here in Australia.

Today will be our last day here; tomorrow we’ll pack up and head South, hugging the coast to Tathra, then inland a skip to Bega, the town from whence I sprang. After showing Brent the little asbestos house I grew up in and calling on a few folks, we’ll meander further south through Eden to the border, then to Cann River, Orbost and Lake’s Entrance. We’re hoping to get a camp in the Croajingalong National Park, or at Ninety Mile Beach if that’s not possible. Or somewhere else – we’re free to follow our whims.

A word from another book in our travelling library, ‘Torschlusspanik’, has been on my mind a lot this trip. It took the Germans to find a word for ‘the fear of diminishing opportunities as one gets older’, but it’s something I feel all too keenly these days.

There are too few opportunities to lie back and listen to the sound of the waves on the rocks, to appreciate a meal cooked over an open fire, the delight of a sea eagle coasting overhead or a cooling dip in the sea on a hot summer’s day. I’m off to seize that opportunity while it’s still there.

Hi from Mystery Bay, where we’re on day 6 of our Summer camp. All four of us have settled into an easy routine of reading, eating, chatting and the occasional frosty beer.

Not much swimming and surfing, as the weather has been not quite clement. That will change this afternoon, once the harshest sun is gone.

The campground here is pleasant, nicely located above the cliff separating Mystery Bay and Billys Beach, with a lake and lots of walking trails. The camping area is set in amongst a beautiful stand of spotted gums and, while campgrounds often teeter at the edge of peaceful, there’s not been any trouble here.

I’m writing this on my phone handset so won’t rave on further lest I come home with RSI.

In the end the fireworks were pretty good. Our vantage point wasn’t quite as good as the Reuters photographer who took this picture but it wasn’t a lot worse either, on a 55-foot sailboat moored off Bradley’s Head.

Getting to the fireworks, on the other hand, was hard work. By the time we headed out of the city (6 pm) many roads had been blocked and we went on a Wacky Races style drive through tunnels and wrong turns before we finally managed to find an open road over the harbour. Lots more traffic, a lengthy walk down to the water, and then there was the business of finding the boat. With 3000 of them moored in the harbour, once we’d explained to our hosts which beach we were waiting on, and they’d rowed (rowed!) their little dinghy the thousand metres or so to shore, finding our way back to the boat was not a straightforward exercise. It’s amazing how similar those 3000 boats look.

Anyway we made it, just in time for the 9 pm “family” fireworks, much frivolity ensued and when midnight came the city fathers blew up the bridge with the usual gusto. Hands were shaken, cheeks were kissed, I told Brent how much I love him and, in deference to the foreigners on board, we sang Auld Lang Syne. Badly. We considered going out for a drink after but demurred. Enough’s enough.

Thanks to our hosts, Michael and Jason, and Jason’s family, for inviting us, and to Will and Aaron for sharing their New Year with us.

Today is my mother’s birthday – she is 80 years old, having been born on New Year’s Day 1926. Brent and I are heading off to Wollongong shortly to join the rest of the family for a celebration. I have six heterosexual siblings; as you can imagine that adds up to a lot of people. I hope there’s enough coleslaw.

This will probably be the last post for a couple of weeks, as from Wollongong we’re packing up and going bush. More when the opportunity arises.