Fiction: Members fight for privledges
September 23, 2003I am a snot nose kid. At least I was when I wrote this for a Media Law class I took one time. It’s non-fiction despite its appearance in this fiction section. I guess I was going for the funnyman routine, but it never made it to print (for obvious reasons) and that is that.
Last week I had a wonderful opportunity to visit the center of West Australian government: the brothel on corner of State and Main.
That was a bad joke. Please forgive me.
In all seriousness, I went to the parliament to see how well the governmental process actually worked. If you’ve only based your opinions on quality network news coverage here, then you have no idea how dire the situation really is.
For one thing, the parliament building is much smaller than how it appears on television. The polished wood and vaulted ceilings lend a certain feeling of grandeur to the whole place. However, once debating starts, the fantasy soon slips away.
From the observation deck, devotees and well-wishers have a great view of many members’ receding hairlines. Imagine doing your hair in the morning and styling it for people who look at the top of your head. How would you look? If Attorney-General Jim McGinty only knew, he might have stayed in bed. But public office is a tough job, and somebody’s got to do it.
At one point, I was struck by an almost unshakable desire to drop something from the balcony. I’m sure this must be how birds feel as they soar through traffic. But rest assured, my hands stayed firmly in my lap.
From a most comfortable seat (read: plywood and Pleather), spectators are privy to an amazing sight: full grown men and women behaving like little children. This is particularly amusing because everyone is dressed rather nicely. Except the honorable Cheryl Edwardes. Let’s just say that the number she was wearing suited her hostile personality well.
This bad behavior should be accepted and tolerated in sandboxes around the world, but in a professional atmosphere such as parliament, it seems strangely absurd.
It seems to me that during “question time” more effort was put into insults and interjections and dodging questions than actually relaying information. I think it’s a fair assessment to say that half the time issues were attacked, and half the time the issue-speaker was attacked. In any case, whoever decided the parliament should have absolute privilege was probably facing a defamation lawsuit. If you don’t believe me, page through a few session transcripts.
Many good things were readily apparent too. For example, from the observation deck spectators could see that actual work was being done. Crucial work or not, work is work. Anyone who believes that government is an unnecessary bureaucracy is sorely mistaken. Sure, legislation is tedious and touchy work, but it has to be done by somebody. And I don’t see you raising your hand Bruno.
For a large portion of the session, I watched members carefully and deliberately amend phrases in the Taxi Amendment Bill. Surprisingly, the bill was worked to a point where most members present agreed. Though Liberals seemed critical of the bill, both parties worked together, hand-in-hand, to mould it into something both could be happy with. Or at the very least, appear happy with. All the amendments that were discussed were passed. Believe me, it was nearly a Kum-by-ah moment.
And so it seems that to many people on the outside, bipartisanship is an unobtainable dream. Let me attest, it truly exists.
The parliament unanimously and unequivocally passed brand new legislation allowing for extra recess time.
Though it’s still unclear who will get the monkey-bars first.