RECENTLY I turned my gaze to the stars while ruminating over the thoroughly random array of tea leaves scattered across the bottom of my cracked ‘Tasmania Together’ coffee mug. While I don’t profess to be overly skilled in the psychic arts, I did receive some rather startling visions of what may transpire over the coming twelve months, and so bejittered was I after the experience that I had to quaff some Boags to restore my nerves.
In the interests of preparing the denizens of this fair state for impending revelations I thought I would share my prognostications. Make of them what you will.
1. Paul Lennon will, in the hope of distracting voters from some of his government’s offences against good politics, call a state election for the middle weekend of the Commonwealth Games. In a press conference beamed in live from Melbourne, he will deny that this election will also serve as a publicity platform for the Games, immediately before heading off to enjoy front row seats at the Men’s 1500m freestyle final, which were (of course) upgraded from seats in the second back row of the arena where binoculars are standard issue.
2. The week before the election, Rene Hidding will announce a surprise running mate, in a bid once and for all to secure the Liberal Party majority government and convince people that all hatchets are finally buried. Unfortunately Bob Cheek will be in Longreach on a publicity tour for his autobiography and therefore unable to actively campaign. Instead, Rene travels the state with a life-size cardboard cutout of the former leader, and no one notices the difference.
3. Richard Flanagan’s new novel, published later this year, will be nominated for the 2007 Miles Franklin award. He will win the award from a very competitive field of entries which includes Bryce Courtenay’s long awaited first attempt at quality fiction, and a verse novel by Peter Carey which everyone pretends to like but no one understands. Richard will use his acceptance speech to announce that with his prize money he intends to buy Bruny Island and secede it from the rest of Tasmania.
4. After a period of prolonged intense public debate, Gunns announces the absolutely final cast-iron integrated impact statement for the construction of its pulp mill and submits it to the RPDC for approval. This statement shows some evidence of compromise, taking many in opposition to this development by surprise. In it Gunns declares that the mill will now source raw material only from plantation pine coupes less than five years old that grow between Triabunna and Orford, that the mill itself will occupy an area no larger than Paul Lennon’s favoured villa suite at Crown Casino Tower, and that it will be built in New Zealand. TRAC immediately declares a moral victory.
5. Unfortunately, Gunns simply will not stay out of the spotlight this year. Civil litigation procedures against the alleged Gunns 20 will continue, and the company’s share price will nosedive when it is revealed, as a result of fearless investigation by freelance journalist Wes Young, that Gunns have dedicated three new plantations in north-western Tasmania to provide trees to generate enough paper to keep writing and rewriting its bloated statement of claim and associated legal documents. 16 of the 20 will be exonerated, and the remaining four will countersue, funding their legal costs by a combination of lecture tours, juggling workshops, cookbook publication (with lentils featuring strongly), non-violent protest consultancy and busking.
6. The state election called for the middle weekend of the Commonwealth Games will result in a hung parliament, and the major parties will send Tasmanian voters back to the polls with their commitment that they will govern in majority or not at all. As a result, state elections will be held approximately once a month throughout 2006, and become rather entertaining in their increasing gladiatorial spectacle. In December an end to the silliness is sought when the state’s politicians draw straws. By this process Steve Kons is elected Premier, and a new election is announced almost immediately, with bipartisan support.
7. In August, Tasmanian Living Writers Week will surprise many in the state’s artistic community with the revelation that we do in fact have a few.
8. Sick and tired of the ongoing electoral instability, David Foster and David Boon will form a new political party, VB United. Their campaign will be underwritten, with full disclosure, by Victorian Bitter beer, the irony of which escapes almost everyone. This type of political sponsorship will forge new political trends in Tasmania, and raises the particular ire of Paul Lennon, who is incensed, but only because he didn’t think of it first. He contacts James Packer immediately.
9. The 2006 Sydney Hobart Yacht Race will result in victory to a very large ultramodern boat crewed by very fit people with no stomachs. No real surprises there. The Greenpeace entry in this event is diverted from the course two days into the race when it is suspected that Japan has shifted its whaling operations to the small pacific island of Nauru. “Hey,” a spokesman for the Japanese government says when contacted about this development. “This kind of trick works for the Australian government so we thought we’d try it too.”
10. John Howard spends the majority of 2006 repeatedly asserting that a majority in both houses is no cause for triumphalism. Rene Hidding issues a statement accusing him of ‘rubbing it in’. Tasmanian Senator Eric Abetz, while fighting off rumours that he is closet cross-dresser, rejoices in his new appointment as Minister for Frowns and Dressing like an Undertaker. In September, a protest will go horribly wrong when the Senator is accidentally sprayed with holy water and he sinks dramatically to the ground, appearing to melt from within, shouting in an increasingly melodramatic Transylvanian accent, ‘The Light! The Light…!”
11. In a snap decision, Ricky Ponting announces his retirement from cricket and almost immediately is offered the job of Tasmanian Governor. No one bothers to tell William Cox, as it assumed that he will be able to negotiate a cushy little release-from-contract deal with the State government. Ricky’s first decision is to convert a wing of government house to an indoor cricket centre for homeless youth, and it is also revealed, during a live cross from the evening news, that he can in fact cure Tasmanian Devil Facial Tumours by laying his hands on the afflicted creatures. There is much rejoicing, particularly by the aldermen and women of the Launceston City Council, who declare in an emergency motion during a council meeting that Ricky must immediately be elected Pope.
12. Finally, after a year of utter turmoil, Peg Putt is finally elected Premier in her own right. No one notices.
Cameron Hindrum teaches, writes and lives in Launceston. His work has appeared in the journals Famous Reporter, Forty Degrees South, Island, Paradox, Pendulum and elsewhere on Tasmaniantimes.com.
