The Lingering Stink Of Brumby Droppings

JUST imagine – and this is entirely theoretical, of course – that a member of Big Ted Bailleau’s government landed in bit of trouble. Perhaps he gave the spouse a walloping and had to camp out in his electoral office, or it might be that an overly cheerful MLA becomes so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the season that his car kisses a lamp post without benefit of mistletoe. Should anything like that happen, even Wayne Swan could do the dire sums for a government with just a one-seat majority: Victorians could wake up one morning to find the heirs of Bracks and Brumby very close to being back in charge of things.

They might not notice much difference, of course, as what passes for conservatism on Spring Street differs not all that much from the progressive mindset which saddled taxpayers with a desal plant (because it would never rain again), a dud trains-and-trams swipe card (because public transport is morally uplifting) and an arts apparatus that continues to see taxpayers obliged to underwrite quality entertainment like this:

Given its delicate position you might think, for reasons of principle alone, Big Ted's brigade would wish to clean house while it enjoys its majority and electoral goodwill. And if  they are insufficient incentives to seize the moment, then the white-anting by Labor and Green sympathisers embedded in the upper reaches of the public service, advisory boards and consultative bodies should be enough to put a broom in one hand and an axe in the other. Planning Minister Matthew Guy might have some thoughts on that, as he has had to endure a series of slams, slurs and slimes whispered to the Age, which is very good at taking stenography from those of whose politics it approves.

And this morning, once again, there is more grief via the lingering Bracksians and Brumboids. This time it has to do with the bush, which was still there the last time the Professor went fishing but may not be for much longer, given the deplorable stewardship of the grant-snaffling academic environmentalists and wringers of green hankies whose advice has dominated Victoria's policies for far too long. As usual, the latest sniping was done by the Age, where it seems no one was in the least curious about the backgrounds of those making the bullets. Put it this way, if the quoted Victorian National Parks Advisory Council had come to any conclusion other than opposing a limited and modest test of alpine grazing's potential as a fire inhibitor, it would have been a pig that just flew past your window.

Here are three of its members:

When The Age's Melissa Fyfe lumbered into Apollo Bay with her fellow climate joggers, Dr John Sherwood of Deakin University was there to welcome them with a white-knuckle lecture about the damage climate change would wreak on the Otways. It must have been a lovely re-union for Fyfe and Sherwood, one of her quote generators for stories about rising sea levels and glum fish.

Then there is Dr Bill Jackson, the head of Parks Victoria and a Brumby favourite, whose appointment to head that organisation just before the 2010 state election won the warm endorsement of the Victorian National Parks Association. And where does the VNPA fit into the scheme of things? Well, it opposes cattle grazing and is always telling the Age about it.

Now consider Dr Brian Martin, who runs a little environmental consultancy out of Metung, Shearwater Associates (the "associates" is his missus), and who boasted to a Senate committee of having helped reform land-use policies and criteria for building permits along the Ninety Mile Beach.  This has not proven too popular with landowners, who have been told they cannot build on the blocks they purchased because climate change will soon see their properties awash.

For those who are interested, the other members of theVNPAC can be found here. Premier Baillieu should be very interested indeed -- if he actually wants to achieve some of the things voters thought they were going to get when they cast their ballots.

UPDATE: Gone fishing to play golf. The fishing will be next week.

(*written in a mad rush to get to the first tee, a number of grammatical fixes have now been retro-fitted)