States Of Play

I was just about to start high school when the men came to cut down the tree. I say tree, it was in fact a Pampas Grass - a big grassy clump that looks like an oversized version of beloved children's book character, Grug. The Pampas had been declared a noxious weed and therefore, illegal. It had to be removed immediately, lest it poison us. At this point the plant had been in the family nineteen years and had never poisoned us. Not even a little. Not a single hospitalization. So in mid-February the guys came in their council t-shirts and tiny shorts and they dug and chopped and swore until the plant was gone.

A few weeks later when school started I began taking the bus. The bus would snake through my little town before crossing the river into Victoria -I lived in New South Wales but for proximity reasons went to high school in Victoria- and there, passing by the bus window, I'd see it. Pampas grass proudly adorning every other lawn. Pampas being legal south of the border. Now, I was never particularly enamoured with our limp Grug-corpse of a plant, but this was a virtual Pampas forest and I admit I swelled with Pampas envy.

Living on the border meant this wasn't the first time I felt the tyranny of the state system. Give three examples, you say?

A) As a teenager I'd spend sun-burnt summers with the Victorian kids lording it over me by dashing about on the wet concrete that surrounded their unfenced pools. New South Wales' pools, by law, had to be fenced and were usually padlocked. This of course meant precious swimming time wasted looking for the key which would always be found on the wrong side of the fence, the most gazelle-like boy would have to retrieve it by jumping the fence.

2) Or the annual spending of an entire Saturday waiting with my father at a dank Mechanics while the family car was subjected to a road worthiness exam, which only had to be done once on the other side of the river, and then on Monday morning at school being regaled with tales of Victorian fathers taking their kids to the seldom open Karate and Go-Karting Centre. I wanted to drop kick them into the tyre wall.

III) Say you would like to register a caravan. Go on, say it, it's fun. In Vic it's simple. That'll be two hundred bucks, have a nice day. Awesome outfit by the way. In New South - we call it that for brevity, adding 'Wales' takes valuable time that could be better used gambling or watching Rugby or whatever is stereotypically New South - it's a baffling ordeal. That'll be five hundred thousand dollars -half in Italian Lira and half in uncut diamonds (they'd better be Congolese, none of that Liberian nonsense) and watch the attitude mister. 

This brings me to my point (no, really): We should abolish the states. Dismantle them. A prohibition on states. Yes, there's a chance prohibition will lead to back alley 'State Easys' -underground clubs where corrupt City Treasurer Steve Buscemi sells bootleg... Nope, not even prohibition can make the states seem interesting or necessary.

And what real purpose do the states serve? I mean apart from those terribly un-hilarious bets the Premiers make where the loser has to wear the others' football jersey. And nobody likes those.

People understandably like having a local face in charge of things. It provides some small comfort. This would be fine if they were seen to be doing things. But they aren't. I've only seen O'Farrell literally once this year. He made a Craig Thomson joke that's overall terribleness was doubly embarrassing considering the time he, quite clearly, has on his hands which could be used to polish jokes into a state approaching mirth. At least the previous Labor government seemed busy. There's only 24 hours in a day in which to be corrupt and, by Jove, they got on with it. However, if the only good thing you can say about your state government is that they were efficient in their corruption you've got yourself, as Schwarzenegger would try to say, True Lies a Raw Deal.

And Victoria is no different - if you thought Brumby and Co. were time thieves you should check out a list of Baillieu's achievements. Go on, it won't take long.

This past week the Federal Government decided to undo their Victorian health funding cuts. But they did so by giving funding directly to hospitals and Baillieu was all like, "Whoa! Can they do that? I can't believe they did that!" It's a novel idea, giving money directly to those who need it but, yes, they can do that. The states' one real purpose was service delivery and in one fell swoop the Gillard government has seemingly made the states unnecessary*

Of course, there are other, better reasons to dismantle the states than those mentioned here. Hell, Katter has argued for more states and, as we know, holding the contrary position to Bob is always the most reasonable course of action.

So how do we proceed? Well, the Federal Government working directly with local Councils seems to be the preferred model. Sure, giving more power to local councils seems foolhardy given they seem to model themselves on the Swiss during the war (You feel better on Swiss. Mostly because of the piles of Nazi gold). But then, when they inevitably screw the pooch you can, at least, turn up at their doorstep, glove at the ready, and demand satisfaction.


*: hyperbowl