Gambling on our future

Doing the right thing by problem gamblers? Don't bet on it. 

Unless you have been locked in a shed for the past few months, you can't have failed to notice the avalanche of propaganda on our television screens in support of the gambling industry. Andrew Wilkie, the abrasive independent member for somewhere in Tasmania, has made it a condition of his support for the Gillard minority government that it enacts laws designed to help problem gamblers, mainly those who piss billions of dollars a year down the necks of the ubiquitous poker machines.

It is a hideous industry that preys on vulnerable people and Hoopla has already run a first-hand account of the damage this is doing to the community. Only recently any hope of bipartisanship on this was destroyed when Tony Abbott unleashed his wrecking ball promising that if he got to government, he would wind back anything that would get in the way of clubs and pubs exploiting problem gamblers http://bit.ly/se1wbe. His partner in this, shock jock Alan Jones, told ABC AM: "Pre-commitment gambling will erode the fabric of Australian life

But as this blog here shows, the nonsense being sprouted about the damage to the community in pre-commitment is twaddle. Just 2.5 per cent of the money they make out of gambling goes back to the community.

A little point I came across while reading up on this is that the take rate of our pokies is the highest in the world and most countries won’t have a bar of what they call “Australian machines”. Reverend Tim Costello said recently: “Australia has the highest number of poker machines per head in the world. There are 197,000 of them nationally and around half are in NSW. We’re not talking about the one-arm bandits of old that took 20 cent pieces. It’s possible to feed $12,000 an hour into modern high intensity machines. The machines are designed to increase playing time and addiction. “

May I add a couple more articles to your reading list to bring you up to speed on what is occurring out there in clubs and pubs?

What are you looking at?

I'm getting sick of being treated as an aging paedophile. I'm tired of being viewed with suspicion whenever I talk to someone’s kids. I am tired of having to think carefully before I tell people about  my attitude to kids. In a society obsessed with child abuse,  I am know I am not the problem.  Am I overreacting? Perhaps.  In the supermarket queue the other day, the woman in front had her stroller turned around so the child, a young boy or girl - not sure which - was facing me. I began chatting to the child, pulling a few faces, doing my acclaimed Donald Duck impersonation and getting a grin out of the kid. The mother turned round, glared at me and quickly turned the stroller away. Made me feel grubby.
Recently I found a child, obviously lost, in the shopping centre and stood nearby just keeping an eye out. When the parents arrived, wild-eyed and frantic, I attempted to engage in a reassuring chat to say the kid was not harmed but suddenly felt I was being viewed as somehow involved in the child's absence. Down at the beach on the weekend, when the kids line up for Nippers - or Nipples, as my daughter thought it was called - people taking photographs of their kids are viewed with some concern. A non-parent is ostracised.
For me, it looks like the slippery slope towards the sort of thinking that brings us organisations like the Taliban. We really need to sort out what is going on and be a little less censorious. Look at the statistics. The catch-cry of Stranger Danger is misleading. The stats show that most child abuse occurs in the home and the offender is known to the victim. Acts by random strangers are rare, although when they occur they are horrendous.
But does it help to make your child scared rigid of strangers? Does it help if parents are so paranoid they turn strollers around in supermarkets? What happens if they do get into trouble and could be helped if they approached a stranger? From my experience, most people in the world are good people and who hasn't been blown away by the random kindness of strangers? There is a climate of hostility directed at old blokes like me who just like interacting with kids passing by. They make me laugh.
I love going each year to The Australian Ballet's pre-Christmas offering. We choose the matinee because, and this is where it gets difficult, I love watching the little girls in the audience. They arrive with their mothers in tow. It is pretty obvious they attend ballet school. They have spent many hours preparing their hair and clothes. They stand in second position and are in thrall of the occasion. Occasionally you catch their faces while the ballet is on and the concentration and adoration is wonderful. During interval, they practise the dance steps and movements they’ve seen on stage. 

It is a chance to look through a window into the innocence and wonder of young people untroubled by the crap we have going around in our heads. It is a magical experience for them and it appeals to me because I love seeing something that I love being appreciated by others.
I felt the same with one of my sons when he played sport. It was before he became a teenager. He and his mates had approached the game with passion and seriousness, even though they were all technically pretty hopeless.
Now I don't know why I am telling you this. It feels funny to say these days. I had to think a long time before I wrote this. I had only told a few people about the enjoyment of the ballet and the enjoyment of watching the kids in the audience. I expect an intervention from Hetty Johnston at Bravehearts any moment.
It's not people like me we should be worrying about. Rather, it is the corporatisation of our children.
When I was a kid, we were allowed to be kids. No one marketed stuff at us. There was an understanding that parents were marketed to and they decided what their kids would have. Now that bond is broken and, like the omelette, is never going to be turned back into an egg.
But we have to understand and push back against the pernicious marketing that goes on and the sneaky sexualisation of our children. In the same shopping centres where I am viewed with suspicion, I am surrounded by posters for children’s clothing. The models have been made to look older than they are. They strike poses that are not the poses of children. It is all about rushing children through childhood into consumerist nirvana. So pre-pubescent girls are encouraged to buy training bras and high heels.
On pay television at the moment is a show called Toddlers and Tiaras, an American excrescence featuring beauty contests for mostly little girls but which is now attracting young boys as well. Of course corporate sponsorship dollars back the program.
The organisers made a foray into Australia recently.

Welcome to the asylum

Not so long ago, young people used to have a rite of passage known as their 21st where

parents held a big party and at some time during the evening, before the keg had been drunk

dry and the flower beds decorated in carrots, the centre of attention was given the key of the

door.

As people gazed at some large boofy bloke and grainy old pictures of a naked toddler

crawling into the surf or suchlike, the proud parents spoke of the responsibility that came

with having your own front door key. Part of that responsibility was that you had to act like

an adult in all things. Quaint, eh?

As L.P. Hartley wrote, “The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.”

It's a bit like becoming the government of a country. The old days of wild-eyed idealism

in opposition are over. The hard grind of office brings with it perks, but it also brings an

obligation to act responsibly.

The refugee debate has become a race to the bottom of a cesspit that has no bottom. The

rednecks of talkback radio and their call-in gibberers will not be satisfied until they see

people being shot in the water. They are beyond any normal decency and should be treated

as such. Instead, we are seeing them shaping the debate and all semblance of responsible

government thrown under the bus.

What seems to be forgotten here is that we are bludgers. We are sponging off the rest of

the world. Offshore processing means we are willing to abrogate our responsibilities under

refugee conventions and throw our problems into someone else’s backyard like bags of

smelly garbage.

Let us remind ourselves of the millions of refugees moving around the world, desperate

for sanctuary as war, famine and terror breathe down their necks.
In 35 years, 500 boats

bringing a total of 27,000 people have arrived in this country. Let us remind ourselves of

the 40,000 asylum seekers Greece is processing at the moment.