Monday 22/10/01. Midday.

Im at the Anakie Gorge picnic area in the Brisbane Ranges

north of Geelong. Dont have a definite appointment till November 3rd when I promised to meet Saulius
Varnas (6/11/01. Port Germein. Originally trained as an astro-physicist; fluent in litho, polish, russian
and english) & an old school friend (3/11/01. Whose been at a conference on intensive care in Sydney as
hes in charge of such a unit in Vilnius, lithuania) of his at 5 pm at the kiosk in Wilpena in the Flinders
Ranges to show them around for a couple of days. In the meantime the plan is to amble around the
countryside on minor roads & tracks without using maps (which Ive nevertheless brought, including the
Vic roads country directory, just in case). Ive had a bite to eat : turkish bread & prosciutto. I have no
major theme that I feel I should write about & it may be that this wont lead to a piece of writing for
distribution. Ive probably written more than enough for a year & anyway have a piece titled ‘10/11/01’
(because its a palindrome but Im calling it my election piece) which Im in the process of distributing.
Helens no doubt sick of the typing & Im feeling rather weary of trying to speak clearly. Im in a dark
mood (was playing Prokofievs 6th symphony etc. on the way). Some of my neighbours in Melbourne
appear to be at their emotional limits, my own family is undergoing strains, I seem to be overreactive to
my surroundings & caught up in my various intensities – but above all I continue to be disturbed by the
implications of the war. Ive always found my life interesting enough; I dont want to live in more
interesting times – or horrible or chaotic times as my parents had to (& me too to a degree). The world
has gone insane & Im not all that stable at the best of times. Shimon Peres in an article published in the
Age (which has done an excellent job of presenting a range of reactions & I feel like congratulating the
editor, Michael Gawenda, to whom I lent a tent in his youth for a trip around australia) is talking like a
muslim extremist : of the need to cut off hands – of terrorists. I dont mind that the mannerisms & voice
of George Bush remind me of Smart of ‘Get Smart’ & that he even looks a bit like a relative, 2nd cousin
maybe, but what scares me is that he is saying the same things. It supports a theory of mine that people
spend the second half of their life imitating the movies they saw in the first half. The bombing of
afghanistan seems crazy. For every terrorist they kill there they spawn half a dozen would be terrorists in
pakistan. & pakistan has nuclear bombs. It seems very doubtful that Attas group was more than routinely
funded by al Qaeda : any number of middle eastern sources could have provided the relatively modest
sums required (or they could have been raised in the U.S.) While the U.S. withholds the evidence it is
reasonable to presume minimal involvement by bin Laden & Im sure most muslims will take that
attitude. The U.S. must be convinced of bin Ladens danger for there is too much for it to lose by
antagonising the arab world but the evidence has to be available for public scrutiny. Otherwise even
among the supporting countries the conviction will rightly grow that their leaders have acted
undemocratically in declaring the war without consultation with their publics. What does it mean to give
unqualified support as John Howard has done on our behalf? We have hitched our carriage onto a vast
train whose destination is unknown. It may be that the U.S. itself doesnt know where it is going. The
train has barely left the station. I fear that the events about to unfold are huge. There is a very poignant
passage in the book ‘Radetsky March’ by Joseph Roth where a polish count is telling a young recruit on
the eastern front (1st war) that everything he was seeing about him, the displays of power, Hapsburg
pomp, the time worn certainties they mouthed, were a sham, a mirage, hiding from view what was
already only a carcass. I have the same feeling about us … 3.15. Had a bit of a catnap in Bamganie
Forest reserve which is pretty. The disadvantage of travelling like this is that I dont know where I am
should I wish to return. I was fotografing a roadside flower earlier when a car with a couple of women
stopped to ask what I was doing – sure sign that Im off the beaten track. I havent been through a town
since leaving Melbourne & suspect that Im somewhere southwest of Ballarat. Might drive along a
highway if I cross one to look for a pub. Passed an ostrich farm . Also a pet crematorium. Its warm. Am
beginning to submit to the healing power of the countryside … 4.40. Now heres an extraordinary event :
Ive ended up for the night at Surface Creek Picnic Area in Enfield State Park. Its the exact same spot I
spent my first night at about the same time last year on my wild 4 day ride with Paranoia. But Ive come
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here by different roads & didnt recognise the place till I drove into it. There is a little cross here painted
green 1 foot high next to a gum tree. I expect its an anonymous grave. There is also a stone with chinese
inscriptions dedicated to gold diggers who worked & died in the area. Last time I finished off a bottle of
Ramazzotti here & left it standing on a post marking off the parking space. This time Ive got 3 stubbies
that I bought at the Little Hard Hills Hotel in Enfield on the Colac-Ballarat road. There is no one else
here.

Tuesday 23/10/01. Had a good nights sleep in contrast to the last time. Got up
finally after an hour or so of raucous bird calls (interspersed with a variety of more melodious tinkling)
made by the large numbers of corellas that roost here. Yesterday at sunset as I was sitting on a picnic
table reading Paul Austers ‘The Invention of Solitude’ I was being covered by flying ants. The corellas
(just noticed that I havent brought my bird ID book so I cant give the scientific name) were going full
bore then too. Its 6.30 am. Here are a couple of quotes from the second part, ‘The Book of Memory’ :

““Jeremiah : “Then said I, Ah, Lord God! Behold, I cannot speak : for I am a child. But the Lord
said unto me, say not I am a child : for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I
command thee thou shalt speak … then the Lord put forth his hand and touched my mouth. And the
Lord said unto me, Behold, I have put my words in thy mouth.”””
And
““The prophet. As in false : speaking oneself into the future, not by knowledge but by intuition.
The real prophet knows. The false prophet guesses. This was Jonah’s greatest problem. If he spoke
God’s message, telling the Ninevites they would be destroyed in forty days for their wickedness, he was
certain they would repent and thus be spared. For he knew that God was “merciful, slow to anger, and of
great kindness.” “So the people of Ninevah believed God and proclaimed a fast, and put on sackcloth,
from the greatest of them to the least of them.” And if the Ninevites were spared would this not make
Jonah’s prophesy false? Would he not, then, be a false prophet? Hence the paradox at the heart of the
book : the prophesy would remain true only if he did not speak it. But then, of course, there would be no
prophesy, and Jonah would no longer be a prophet. But better to be no prophet at all than to be a false
prophet. “Therefore now, O lord, take, I beseech thee, my life from me; for it is better for me to die than
to live”. Therefore, Jonah held his tongue. Therefore, Jonah ran away from the presence of the Lord and
met the doom of shipwreck. That is to say, the shipwreck of the singular.””

(Here is my journal entry from last wednesday : Lunch with Frank Lovece. Then
bought a couple of books by Paul Auster (‘The Invention of Solditude’, ‘The Music of Chance’) on his
recommendation. Met Susie Wall (23/10/01. former neighbour at 101 in Ivanhoe) as I was going into the
shop. Saw the ‘rice field’ event in the city square and said hullo to 2 of the participants who turned out to
be people who get my writing. Had a look at the exhibition in St. Pauls Cathedral. Had two beers in the
Spiegeltent : what a good feel place that is. Back in Miller st. met Helen (after a shower) for our usual
love in. Tea with H at Threshermans and then I rode and she drove back to Ivanhoe . A terrific day
really.)
8.45 am. After breakfast continued reading ‘The Invention of Solitude’. Yes, Paul
Auster is grappling with the mystery or meaninglessness of what he calls “the nature of chance”. He is
subject to the same kind of unlikely occurrences that I have described (that me & Frank were discussing
on wednesday for hes had them too as have many others (including Warren Burt) and some say you
should ignore them) and is equally bemused. My writing project since the beginning of last year started
out as a commentary on this very experience and it continues to be one of its main preoccupations. I
stopped reading with only a few pages to go to the end of the book because it started raining a little & I
thought Id find a town to read a newspaper. From the picnic area I took the road along Misery Creek till
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it came out of the forest onto a minor sealed road along which I headed north. Having passed a dirt road
to the left by some hundreds of yards I turned around on a whim & took it & only minutes later came out
at a very beautiful, old, secluded cemetery off Dales Rd. called Staffordshire Reef Cemetery. I know
where I am because I stopped here last year on my trip with Paranoia. I am somewhere not far south of
Linton where I should be able to get the paper. There is a place near there called Devils Cauldron where
I also called in & thought it interesting but was too agitated (& on the run) to explore. Now I will be able
to have a better look. Could it be that the paths weve taken remain with us outside awareness. Perhaps
thats what we are – an index of them. Now Ill finish reading the book. I interrupt the reading for another
quote. Auster is quoting Leibniz :
““Since all is a plenum, all matter is connected and all movement in the plenum produces
some effect on the distant bodies in proportion to the distance. Hence every body is affected not only by
those with which it is in contact, and thus feels in some way everything that happens to them; but
through them it also feels those that touch the ones with which it is in immediate contact. Hence it
follows that this communication extends over any distance whatever. Consequently, every body
experiences everything that goes on in the universe, so much so that he who sees everything might read
in any body what is happening anywhere, and even what has happened or will happen. He would be able
to observe in the present what is remote in both time and space … A soul, however, can read in itself
only what is directly represented in it; it is unable to unfold all at once all its folds; for these go on into
infinity.””

Completed ‘The Book of Memory’. A terrific read; good to compare notes. Thanks Frank, thanks
Paul Auster. Cant resist another quote by Auster, from Heraclitus :

““In searching out the truth be ready for the unexpected, for it is difficult to find and
puzzling when you find it.””

10.30 Im still at the cemetery, its raining & Im about to head off; probably to get the paper at
Linton. … At a crossroad at the corner of the cemetery I turned about & took the minor road. This must
be the rule, I thought, I have the habit of choosing the lesser road. But I wasnt recognizing the
surroundings though they were very attractive & I could see good spots to camp at or investigate. When
I came to a bigger sealed road I drove up it because I could see a church in the distance & thought it
meant a town. But that was about all there was. The church was not in use except by a white goose in the
front yard. So I went back to a minor sealed road continuing on from where I had come into the bigger
one. It took me to where Im writing now – The Devils Kitchen which I had incorrectly remembered as
The Devils Cauldron. … 2.45. Im in the pub at Skipton, quite a nice town that I havent seen before.
Bought milk, a sausage roll, filled up with petrol, checked the message bank (1 message left by Kate
12.00 yesterday saying to be happy & not worry about the kids), got the Age which Ive just read (long
piece by Edward Said & an excellent article by Dr Robert Wolfgramm of Monash Uni, & even a pretty
good one by Gorbachev). Outside its raining. There was a very agitated peregrine falcon in Devils
Kitchen & I could see its nest. Didnt go into Linton because I was seduced by roads with names like
Happy Valley rd. & Dreaming Hills rd. All beautiful country of small hills, rich pastures & scrubby
forests. Drove past a sign saying Caution Collapsing Mine Shafts Under Road. You can go virtually
cross country here along very minor lanes. Didnt come out on the hightway till just east of Skipton
which is on the way to Hamilton along the Glenelg Highway. Oh yes, when I bought my first pot of beer
at 1.40 I was the only person in the place & it was the first beer pulled for the day. Im onto my third &
last pot now & there are four people behind the bar (criticising Kim Beazley). There was no one in the
Little Hard Hills Hotel at Enfield either yesterday evening when I bought the stubbies … 5pm. Stopped
at Streatham Streamside Reserve for the night. Had tea. Am about to start reading Austers ‘The Music of
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Chance’. This is a very nice little reserve in a neglected, ordinary sort of way. The picnic tables are
rotting out. The noise of the traffic nearby is not bothering me & will probably stop later. The town
which is surrounded by fields of canola has a store but what looks like a pub appears to be closed. The
river which is flowing well is bordered by red gums. I can hear a golden whistler nearby & in the
distance magpies & a butcher bird … Rang H from the booth outside the store. Dan answered the phone.
Hes spent the day boozing at Kierans place. Then talked to H : everything is fine; shes taking Vi out to a
film; its raining in Melbourne.

Wednesday 24/11/01. 2.30. Im in beautiful farmland north of the highway

that goes through Stawell & Horsham on the way to Adelaide. Ive stopped because its raining. This
morning I went from Streatham to Ararat along very minor roads meandering about in a haphazard way
but being able to keep a general direction because I could see the Grampians in the west & Mt. Buangor
(I think thats the name) to the north. Went through Mininipa which is a railway town of half a doz
houses, a one room box like shop/post office that sells newspapers & a petrol bowser. I have a habit of
checking out the recreation reserves in small towns because I sometimes stop at them & this one is a
beauty, the finest thing there. Its called – M.C.G. By the time I went through Ararat last year I was well
& truly out of touch with normality & at the mercy of the gods that govern our destinies. I went through
it solely because of its symbolic associations. The town itself is of no interest to me. I had decided
before I started this trip that Id visit it again in order to emphasize to myself (ritual?) that I do not reject
the experiences of that journey. So this morning I walked up & down the main street, bought buns for
tonight & tomorrow, read the paper in a bakery/café over a mug of latte that had no coffee taste in it. I
notice in an article consisting of journal entries by a writer called Grossman that he also is overcome by
a sense of impending catastrophe. I read the same sense of foreboding less explicitly stated in many of
the articles over the last two weeks. Last saturday in town me & H were handed a leaflet with a big ? on
the front titled ‘Where Will You Spend Eternity’ from the International Bible Society. Then another
which had a picture of a clock face & said ‘Do You Know The Time – Is At Hand?’ from the New
Covenant Pentecostal Church. Near Southbank a smart looking young man gave us a quarto sheet of
instructions on how to test a true prophet. It consists of 7 spiritual (predictions of the prophet come to
pass, encourage obedience to 10 commandments, prepare to meet the Lord, etc…) & 7 physical tests
(have their eyes open, speaks without breathing, tongue controlled by the Lord, unconscious of natural
surroundings, etc. …). This has something to do with the ministry of Ellen G. White (1827-1915) & the
SDA church. Ive never heard of either but she is said to have had 2000 dreams & visions & to be one of
the most translated writers in the entire history of literature. To top it off I was given a free book ‘The
Great Controversy’ described as The Compelling Account of Unseen Powers, Struggling for Supremacy.
I have brought it with me but its written in a quaint sort of language & is nearly 400 pages long. I think
its about the imminent return of christ. Its copyrighted in 1990 by Better Living Publications, a
trademark of ASI Missions Inc., 12501 Columbia Pike, Silver Springs, Ud 20904. Original text by E.G.
White. The Happiness Series of books are developed & funded by ASI Missions, Inc. in cooperation
with Review & Herald and Pacific Press. Printed in U.S.A. On the cover is a very kitchy picture of a
young blonde blue eyed couple exuding wholesomeness. I dont want to read it but I wonder if I am not
being unfair if I dismiss it out of hand. From Ararat I went on to Mt. Zero which is the northernmost tip
of the Grampians range. I had intended to go to Mt. Zero last year too but was freaked out by the
microwave dish I knew would be there. History shows that catastrophic events are preceded by signs :
unexpected comets, plagues (according to Artaud), sexual depravity etc. I experienced one today. Still on
the road to Adelaide, a little before turning off for Mt. Zero, an emu with 8 chicks crossed the highway.
Cars stopped both sides while the father bird led the chicks across then stood defiantly in the middle of
the road waiting to see if there were any more to come. Emus do that because they cant count past about
4. As we waited this one went back to check that there were none left behind then walked past us across
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the highway again, to where the chicks were nervously waiting. This is one of the main highways in
australia – whats the world coming to!
Last year the symbolic power of the zero for me came from its connection to machine code (the
01 of computer language), the binary occurrences in the dates which are still with us this year, & the
notion of finality. This time (I climbed to the top for a look out over the plains I am in now) I was
reminded that it is an arab word. Not only the word but the number itself came from the arabs & played
a crucial role in the development of mathematics. They were the most civilized people in the world then
& if they had thought of it they could have made us pay an exorbitant rental for the right to use the
symbol : one perhaps that we couldnt have afforded to pay. But the bizarre notion of exclusive rights of
intellectual property didnt exist then & couldnt have been enforced anyway. It is only now that the club
of ‘civilized’ nations is powerful enough to do what it likes have they invented the idea (australia is
playing a leading role of supporting the U.S. in opposing relaxation of restrictions so as to prevent poor
countries from making simple medicines themselves instead of buying them from the large
pharmaceutical firms at prices they cant (& probably never will) afford). The word ‘evil’ is much in use
today (especially by bin Laden, George Bush, Arial Sharon, Tony Blair & John Howard) & though I
would not presume to have such knowledge if I was to nominate a candidate the deprivation of cheap
essential medicines from the third world poor in order to maintain returns for shareholders of
pharmaceutical giants is it. It leads to protracted painful deaths & we know it when we do it though we
pretend not to. (13/11/01. Or maybe the man-in-the-street doesnt know how the process works.)

Thursday 25/10/01. It seemed to me this morning that the prayer

composed by the nazarene which he said should be performed in secret & only if you insist is no more
than an act of admission that we are subject to that which is greater than us (& of which we are a part I
would say) & a plea that we be treated as fairly as we treat others & protected from misfortune.
After I wrote yesterdays entry I started looking for a lane to stop for the night. There were heavy
showers about. The first one I went down consisted of no more than tyre marks in thick grass but by the
time I was a couple of hundred yards into it I was wondering how to turn around & get out as I was
sliding about. I made it out & decided Id have to camp on a better track. So I took what looked like quite
a good gravelled minor road meaning to drive up it a few ks & get a spot not far off it in a gateway to a
paddock. As I was driving along I could see ahead that a section of about ½ k wasnt gravelled but it
didnt look too bad & I was into it before I had time to change my mind anyway. Started losing it about
100 yards along & slid off about midway. I managed to do a couple of figure 8s & get from one to the
other side but never to stay on the ball of the road or make any distance along it. I ended up with the
back wheel in the culvert at a sharp sidewise angle & no effort was moving me forward. The wheel in
the culvert was digging itself deeper into the clay. To cut a long story short the prospect of spending a
sleepless night in a van at that awkward angle inspired a creative move. Against all good sense I
reversed hard into the culvert & to my surprise the back wheels (theyre the working ones) had enough
grip to mount the other side of the run off & then I jerked the van hard forward over it & over the ball of
the road & onto the wide grassy verge on the other side. What a relief it was, at least I could get a nights
sleep in a level car. As it turned out however the grassy verge was firm enough all along that side & I
was able to drive on it back to where the road was gravelled. Back on the sealed road I continued on in
what I thought was a northerly direction. This part of the country is crisscrossed with many one lane
sealed roads some of which turn into gravel roads after awhile or end up nowhere. I came to a crossroad
with a post that had about a dozen town or locality signs on it including Marnoo 35ks away. I suppose
there must be quite a few signs to Marnoo about & I knew I was in the general area but the reason I
wasnt surprised (as if I was expecting it) was because that was the place I stopped at longest, holed up
for an entire night & most of the next day on my wild 4 day (3 night) trip with Paranoia. Im writing
these notes at the back of the recreation reserve only a hundred yards from where I had taken the van
5
down an embankment (on that trip I drove the van on several occasions to the limits of what it was
capable in order to be parked in a private nook) to be out of sight & by the creek. Its 9.20am….I cant
remember whether it was in the morning or the afternoon of that day on my umpteenth inspection of the
car that I found what I thought was a homing device attached on the underneath of the tailgate of the
van. I have no idea what an object that is designed to emit radiation looks like but I had read that when
american airmen are downed they attach a silver disk the size of a coin to a tree or somewhere in the
vicinity of where they wait to be picked up. This was a square plasticky paper of about 1" x 1" with a
silver disk the size of a 10 cent coin but the thickness of silver foil on one side. The disk was on the
inside , the sticky side that was stuck on the car covering a hole. It had no reason to be there & peeled
off as if it meant to. I cut it into 4 parts & hid 2 of them in the area. Several days before I left I had heard
what sounded like a motorcycle pull up out front at Ivanhoe & noises that sounded as if the car was
being tampered with. Thats what I thought & told H next day but I was too tired to be bothered getting
up & anyway Im used to noises at night : could have been possums, or next doors rubbish bins. In the
intervening period I have thought that sooner or later Id check for those pieces of the disk so this
morning I did. I also checked for the empty bottle of Ramazzotti which I left here too as my calling card
– it is gone. The first piece of foil is still where I left it. Im surprised because its the one I thought would
be harder for me to find. The second piece which I felt confident I would find because it was in a very
definite place under a square of matting covered by dirt in a derelict corrugated iron shed that looked as
if it had not been touched for a generation is gone. And the shed is in use. There is some freshly cut
wood in it. There is graffiti on the inside walls that wasnt there last year. On one wall are the words
smeared on in thick brown lettering maybe with a cloth or paint brush : Welcum 2 My Humbl Abode; on
the opposite it says Fuck OFF. From there I went on across the creek to a maze of disused shedding of
every conceivable purpose (including a couple of shearing sheds) & connected to each other in a
haphazard manner. They, together with items of disused machinery, some antique but also a couple of
quite modern cars which may be drivable, are scattered over an area of several acres. After wandering
about for quite a while last year because its beautiful I was surprised to note that some of the sheds are
still used for storage. Then I realized that someone must come in daily to feed the chooks that were there
& that are still there today but confined to a shed. I think there were some sheep then & there are a
couple there now. The open space has been freshly mown. The reason I wanted to go there again was
because last year I walked into a shed about head height & 2 yards wide by 2 ½ long with a section that
reminded me of a manger, which is what it probably originally was. The floor was lined with fresh straw
& there were a couple of chook nests there with eggs. There were no eggs in a nest I saw there today. I
was overcome by the realization that the great prophet, the nazarene, was born in a shed like this, among
these kind of animals, among these kind of people. That he was this kind of person. It seemed to me in a
way I couldnt understand that this very shed was where he was born. I visited it today because I wanted
to touch base with the immensity of that revelation. …
I notice in todays Age that the U.S. is about to develop a super anthrax strain so that it
could improve vaccines for immunity. Also it says that 2 months before the terrorist attacks the Bush
administration rejected a draft agreement designed to enforce the ban on biological weapons. U.S.
objections were based on the potential threat to corporate intellectual property rights & to national
security implied by the international inspections regime included in the agreement. Its 1.30 & Im the
only person in the bar of one of the two hotels in Minyip. I looked into the bar of the other pub which
was empty too but came here because the light is better. I like Minyip; I think of it as a place for making
decisions. It sits in the middle of a plain with roads radiating out like spokes from the hub of a wheel.
About 500 people live here & when I drove into the main street not one of them was visible. Its like that
in many towns in the grain belt. I tried to check my message bank before leaving Marnoo with the Optus
Phone Express Card I was talked into buying by the owner of the Eaglemont newsagency. First you dial
1800 786 956 then the pin code 268 458 6712 then it tells you youve got no messages. Except its not my
6
message bank but the one connected to the card which, incidentally, is transferable. To get into my
message bank I had to dial a further 10 numbers plus a 6 number pin. That comes to a total of 36
numbers. I did it many times while they kept telling me (computer voice) that my number wasnt
registered. Finally I twigged : my mobile is Telstra & this is an Optus card. Apparently it cant get into
Telstra mobile message banks & its the main use I got it for. Also I notice that it expires on the 31st
august or 12 months from use whichever comes first. So its been sitting on the shelf for over two years
coz they are made to have a shelf life of three. But the main point is this : I cant even remember my
home number after a couple of beers or when Im agitated & if I were to train myself to be the kind of
person who can tap out 36 numbers without making a mistake Id be nothing like who I am or be able to
have the experiences I do. (Two guys have just come in to join the only other guy in the bar & they are
from Queensland returning for a get together in Murtoa where one of them went to school. Its his first
time back in 65 years. He says he still gets a paper where he can check the footy scores of the local
league. He lives on the Gold Coast & knows someone there who comes from Warracknabeal with a wife
from Murtoa. Theyve travelled about & its amazing who you can run into one said. They gave some
examples from trips as far away as europe.) It may be that to become a person who does things by
numbers you have to sacrifice the awareness of vague things. This card cost me $20 & when I return to
Ivanhoe Kate (c/o) from whom I bought it can have it back free. Anyway I bought a $10 chip card of the
type you insert into the slot & got through to my mobile message bank to discover I had none. When I
left Marnoo I was curious to see if I would pass the spot where I spent my 3rd night last year, or at least
the last part of it before I headed for home (via Charlton) just before dawn. That was when I looked up
to find the stars in the night sky were in the wrong places. But it was on a dirt road & today I have to
keep off them because there are still plenty of heavy showers about. Anyway Ive described it in another
story (see ‘13/2/01-26/2/01’). (15/11/01. For the benefit of those whove read it & to discourage H from
taking too long with the typing here is a quote from ‘Tentposts’ by Henri Michaux : “If flying saucers
exist they’ll take away the everfading conviction of the few who still claim emphatically that science –
wretched error of a certain orientation by some on this planet – could have not come about.”). I would
have liked once again to have come upon the paddock which I passed then with the alpacas (llamas?)
which congregated on the other side of the fence as if they wanted to talk to me. We stood facing each
other for a long time while I tried a variety of noises to put them at ease. I think we were in a shared
space. Every now & then a braver one would come right up to me, almost to touching distance while the
shyer ones looked on enviously. The slightest baulk or shiver from the brave one sent a ripple through
the rest. Evidently they were in contact, as one. In fact there were a couple of nervous types well back in
the flock who would respond to the leaders more than they did themselves & spook the rest. Then wed
go through the whole procedure again with me trying different rhythms & sound textures hoping to lure
the brave ones close enough to pat their noses … 4.45. Im camped in a beautiful grove of black box
only a couple of hundred yards off the single lane sealed strip that runs from Minyip to Dimboola about
60ks away. The ground is firm because its bone dry & I hope it doesnt rain tonight because it looks
clayey & Ive driven straight over grass. The only vehicles going by are farming utility trucks & theres
not many of them. Incidentally, most country pubs are selling a pot of beer for $2.40 & theres hardly
anyone in them most of the time whereas the Spiegeltent in Melbourne is charging $4.80. How do they
survive? … A big black cloud in the west made me shift & I headed for Dimboola but turned north coz
there was a lot of water lying about. Now Im in an even better spot Ive driven to over grass into Barret
Fauna & Flora Reserve. Hope it doesnt rain coz Im not shifting again. Its somewhere north of the
Minyip-Dimboola rd.

Friday 26/10/01. 3.30. Ive just had a meal & a nap in the
Lakeside Highway Park on the edge of Brim (north of Warracknabeal). Now Im in the Commercial
Hotel known locally as the Brim pub. Its good here. Its about as opposite to a tourist destination as you
7
can get. There is a general store & a garage. The peppercorn tree by the pub gives enough shade for as
many cars as are ever likely to be parked outside. In summer its important coz it gets hot here. The
lakeside park where Ill be spending the night goes on for a kilometre. Its a Lions community project
funded by a govt grant. There are any number of ageing picnic tables interspersed among straggly black
box gums. Signs everywhere : carparking, BBQ, boat ramp, camping area, walking track, picnic area &
a sign saying ‘toilets’ pointing to a large corrugated iron toilet block out in the open only 15 yards from
the sign. There is also a beautiful, coloured display map at the entrance of the lake & surrounds. Only
problem there is not a drop of water in it & hasnt been for some years. My kind of place. Theres no one
there of course & it felt good to have an after dinner nap. Im living in the slow lane; done nothing
physical at all on this trip; ready for an old mans habits. At Marnoo I was talking to a guy who was
doing his daily constitutional around the oval (3 times) who said he has a nap after dinner too. He was
complaining that people call him a pill popper because he takes 13 a day. Hes had a bypass & said if he
didnt do the exercise hed drop dead. Hmmm, us old guys got stuff to talk about. This morning from
Barret fauna & flora reserve I drove into Warracknabeal where I read the Age after inspecting the main
street & buying ½ doz buns . Nature abhors chaos : in my case order is imposing itself in the form of
habits, the Age in the morning & a couple of pots in the pub in the arvo. Its not as easy as you think to
travel without some initial idea of what you intend. Every time you get in the car youve got to make up
your mind if youre going right or left. Just before leaving Melbourne I did decide Id visit Ararat, for the
symbolism of its name, and I probably did have a subliminal intention of revisiting some of the country I
drove through this time last year. Today from Warracknabeal I started out westward on the dirt road to
Antwerp but when after 10ks I saw a huge black cloud ahead I went back & then north to here to get
around it. & it worked! After I finish this entry & have a third pot (10oz) Im going back to the ‘lakeside’
park to continue reading ‘The Music of Chance’ – the poker game is about to begin. Back in
Warracknabeal I rang H at work using the optus card. & yes, Ive learnt how to get into my mobile
message bank too. I had neglected to press the hash key after the pin number. That makes 37 numbers to
press to get in. There will be no place for drunks or dreamers in the world of the future. The big news is
that H sold Vi’s house for her in West Heidelberg ahead of tomorrows auction for $180,000. The house
is falling down & she was never going to get more than $200,000 so its better to be sure & get it out of
the way. The kids are OK, she had a long talk to Egle in Sydney (they had a great time in litho land) who
says mum is probably going to be released from hospital in a couple of days but will be on mega doses
of antibiotics for months. Shes depressed : its one thing after another now. There are two guys in the
pub. Theyre talking about horse racing form, bills, pathology test results, anthrax & bin Laden. Earlier
an old codger came up to me anxious to tell me about the history of the place. His grandfather had come
here with a team of bullocks in 1890 & gone on to Ouyen where there is a memorial to him. I hear these
stories all the time, people respect a writer. I told him I wasnt into history, otherwise he would have
cornered me.

Saturday 27/11/01. I imagine that in the arab world the

dispossession and subsequent mistreatment of the palestinians is seen as equal to the greatest crimes
against humanity perpetrated in the 20th century. In the west, certainly in australia (& I bet in england),
people are not even aware of that history. I think it was one of the great crimes but not to be compared to
what happened in ruanda or cambodia or what Mao did in china or Stalins crimes against his own people
(esp. the ukrainians) & the minorities he deported (the chechens continue to be terrorised but we will
look away because thats the price we have to pay the russians for their cooperation against terrorism; the
tibetans (& others) can kiss their hopes of freedom goodbye because thats the price we will pay for the
chinese to be enduring members of the club of enduring freedom) & of course incapable of being
compared to the murder of the jews by the nazis (with the enthusiastic cooperation of a good fraction of
the other peoples of europe). I have wondered why, until just recently, we were so insensitive to the
8
plight of the palestinians. I have heard it said that its because of the power & wealth of the jewish lobby
in the U.S. & through its control of how things are presented in the media (etc. etc.). But I have a
different theory & I dont believe that money is as powerful as people think either. I have noticed that the
way non-jews talk to me about the murder of europes jews depends largely on what they think my
beliefs are or whether they think I might be jewish or not (Im not). If they believe Im sympathetic to
jews they throw up their arms in horror at the holocaust & their voices are hushed with commiseration.
If they think I lack sympathy it is remarkable how quickly they launch into conspiracy theories & a
search for explanations that would excuse (or mitigate) the crime that was committed against them. I
have never detected in anyone who wasnt jewish, & I mix in a wider community than most, what I
suspected was a genuine sorrow for their fate in the 2nd war. The excuse of the rest of the world at the
time was that nothing could be done until the might of Hitlers germany which was rampaging through
the continent was defeated; & everyone was doing their best to do that. But I suspect that nothing would
have been done anyway – that the jews went to their fate unmourned. I think most didnt care & many
were secretly pleased. I come to that conclusion not from my analysis of public reactions at the time but
from the way I read peoples reactions to them now. I think that the murder of the jews of europe which
was carried out by the nazi germans & the far greater number of other europeans who helped them was
condoned by many throughout the world. A good part of the civilized world was complicit. & now Im
returning to the point about our lack of sensitivity to the mistreatment of the palestinians. I suspect that
there are many in the west who continue to harbour the same attitude to the jews as they had then & that
to disguise that knowledge from their own consciences they have been prepared to be token supporters
of israels dispossession of the palestinians – for after all it is just as easy to overlook the plight of the
palestinians as it was to ignore the plight of the jews. It may be, I hope so, that Im wrong. That Im
reading more than I should into peoples reactions. It may be that what happened to europes jews cannot
be imagined now & we should not try or expect others to be able to do it. (13/11/01. Or perhaps we
cannot empathise with the plight of those we dont identify with unless its depicted on continuous, live
telly). To get too close to those events is to risk insanity. Europe was insane then. On the other hand it
may be that we should make an attempt for there could be a relevance to the events unfolding now.
When the nazi germans planned the extermination of europes jews germany was as civilized as any
country in the world. Our type of people. They were the leading flag-bearers of technological
modernism & their use of mass media to channel public opinion was a generation ahead of its time.
They were insane. It may be that our technological culture which is a continuation of theirs (we call it
the civilized world) predisposes us to related insanities. (13/11/01. Or at least is no protection against
them.) An alliance that is led by the 4 anglo countries (the most technologically advanced; & is there a
tribal thing here ?) has embarked on a long road : the redrawing of geopolitical boundaries; the
confiscation of nuclear weapons from the ‘rogue’ states; the violation of the sovereignty of many third
world countries. I notice that the next most enthusiastic member of the alliance is germany. Hitler would
have loved it : its precisely the alliance he dreamed of. The politicians have no answers but some ex-
politicians are sounding quite wise. Paul Keating is saying that we should not expect other countries to
get rid of their nuclear weapons unless we do – I presume he is saying that all nuclear weapons should
be destroyed. (15/11/01. But it seems impossible as it would involve an international inspection regime
that would force us to abandon most of what we have come to value as our sovereignty. & even then
there would be no guarantee that some werent hidden away, especially by the intelligence services of the
large powers.) Bill Clinton is saying that the notion of sovereignty is out of date – that the world of the
future should have no national borders. 11.20…2.30 Ill put in my two bobs worth without the
qualification of being an ex-politician. The situation between israel & the palestinians has to be solved :
both tribes are there to stay; they have nowhere else to go. Too much blood has been spilt, too much
hatred generated, for them to be able to find a solution themselves. It has to be imposed from the outside
by the world community. After israel has had its nuclear weapons confiscated (assuming the rest of the
9
world gets rid of theirs & I cannot see the slightest likelihood of either or how it could be implemented)
the area occupied by both tribes should be administered by the world community in perpetuity. The U.N.
should be located in Jerusalem (18/10/01. I realize now that this highlights the bias of my particular
perspective. The rest of the world, hindus (etc.), would certainly disagree. Perhaps thats what people
are : different perspectives through which the one peers out at the universe; a multifaceted eye, or many
eyes (population x 2). But what is viewed never changes, only the number of splinters it is seen through;
has been divided into. A kind of degeneration?) because of its symbolic significance to the abrahamic
(new word?) religions. It would also generate jobs for the region & perhaps ensure that Jerusalem never
becomes a nuclear target. As it is, the surest way of being a target is to own nuclear weapons as no
matter how many bombs the big countries have they know only a few enemy bombs hitting their own
strategic targets would destroy their societies. It is also worth reflecting that no matter what assurances
are given by authorities the nuclear response systems of the U.S. & russia in particular have to be hair-
trigger. Think about it – can you conceive how a nuclear response system could be planned that wasnt a
hair-trigger one? Hitlers attempt to destroy the jews ensures that their survival is the overriding (&
pathological?) consideration of the israelis. They developed their nuclear capacity in order not to have to
rely on others who had let them down before. The world community has to find a way of guaranteeing it
that is acceptable to them. & that is only one of the pieces that has to be shifted if the developing
catastrophe is to be averted. I cant see it happening. Pigs might fly! … 5.00 The publican in the pub in
Hopetoun where I wrote the above thought I was a journalist. He had overheard me telling one of the
two old codgers in the bar who had come over to ask me what I was doing that I was writing a journal. I
had a bit of a yarn with him later. His insurance is going up this year from $3000+ to $5000+. I bet the
number of customers he gets isnt going up. Its like that all through here. Its quite normal not to see one
person in the main strip & the only ones you see about anywhere are middle aged to old. Hopetoun is
only about 50ks north of Brim along the main road which is the way I went. The intervening town,
Beulah, is really worth seeing – a classic of this country. I bought 4 buns there in what was called a café.
There are some attractive murals, typical of the area (& maybe started by an art teacher at Rainbow or
Jeparit), a very impressive pub, & wheat silos. Its the very opposite of a boutique town like
Yackandandah (see story ‘22/9/01 – 1/10/01’). I like them both but Beulah more. I went into Hopetoun
mainly because I wanted a shower in the architect designed (like a corrugated iron tank) shower block
owned by the sailing club on Lake Lascelles. Seeing as Im spending time hobnobbing with people in
pubs I want to look presentable. The shower is free though it is suggested you put in a donation (I gave
50c) but when I saw the lake was dry I thought it wouldnt be working as I assumed it would be pumping
its water from there. It was going but. Brushed me teeth for the 2nd time on the trip. Before settling down
for the usual 3 I had a hamburger in the corner store. Now Im back 5 or so ks off the road to Brim. Im
among black box gum again surrounded by patches of very small white daisies. I got into here by
opening a gate that was kept shut with twists of a wire so I think Im on private property. Im about to
listen to the news & then resume reading ‘The Music of Chance’ : theyve lost the poker game & are
about to start building a wall to repay their debt. Ive got to advance me watch by an hour, daylight
saving starts tonight.

Sunday 28/10/01. When I met Suzie Wall the week before

last she said she had read a Paul Auster book, ‘Leviathan’, & that though the idea of it was good she
wouldnt put it on her recommended list. Same can be said for ‘The Music of Chance’ which I finished
after breakfast this morning. It was a big disappointment after the two autobiographical pieces in ‘The
Invention of Solitude’. It was paced like a hollywood movie & the characters were as unreal. As with
several other American writers Ive read it was characterized by clarity & muscularity of language at the
expense of texture & complexity. Thats the last Paul Auster book I read. The problem is that the only
other book Ive brought is the one that claims to end all controversy. Can I bring myself to read it? After
10
that I drove into Rainbow, town of beautiful murals, where I read the Age in an eatery & bought some
freshly baked buns. Enjoyed the drive along sealed back roads to Nhill 70 ks away. Approaching Nhill I
was disappointed to see cars zooming back & forth on the road I was about to enter : I had forgotten it
was on the Adelaide/Melbourne highway. Doesnt matter Im in the mood to cover a few miles today as
Ive decided its time to get out of the slow lane & head for the Flinders Ranges. I need to get a bit
physical. Ive written this note in the Kaniva pub & am about to head off. 1.45 … Ive spent all day
driving & when I got to Pinaroo by taking the road heading north from the Adelaide road I thought that I
could have been there in a few hours if Id driven north through Hopetoun in the first place. At Pinaroo I
rang home & Ben answered. He sounded OK, said he prefers the labouring work to the dishwashing.
Dan was asleep & I didnt want to wake him. Hes leaving for Sydney tomorrow or the day after. H wasnt
home as she was taking Vi out to the flicks. Joe is enjoying his job : hes probably got his first pay by
now. Its 7pm & Ive stopped on a large property because the gate was open. But Im not visible from the
road as Im on the other side of a rise a couple of ks from it. The track Im on is to a windmill & stock
watering point & looks as if it gets used only once a month or so but there doesnt appear to be any stock
about so I dont expect its being used at all for the time being. My general location is west of the road
that goes from Pinaroo to Loxton … This is a great spot to stop for the night : Im in a depression in open
country like in a huge bowl; all the horizons are a couple of ks away & Im getting one of those sunsets
that painters go for (Claude Lorraine, Poussin) where multiple shafts of light are streaming through
cloud. There is a very aromatic herb underfoot. When I stopped the car I could smell it even before I got
out from having driven over it …Flushed a quail.

Monday 29/10/01. 7.10am. I am more interested in commenting on matters of the heart

than on what belongs to caesar. I have a standard letter that I send to the electoral commission in which I
say I couldnt make it to a polling booth because my car broke down in the inland as I was hurrying back
to vote. (there are skylarks here introduced from europe; they sing hovering very high in the sky then
fall to the ground like stones). World events are too large to be understood but since every politician,
pundit, & scribe has had his say I have been bold enough to add my voice, the voice of an ordinary
person. We should be heard. I am embarrassed by the fact that I have a habit of sounding authoritative
(H says). Im sure no one is taken in. As an additional contribution to the discussion on good & evil I am
quoting from Paul Austers ‘The Book of Memory’ (from ‘The Invention of Solitude’). I have friends
(Denis, Walter) who share Paul Austers left wing interpretation of the events that took place in
cambodia. I was inclined to lay the blame on Pol Pot & his fellow utopians since it was they that did the
murdering. However I feel that this passage goes beyond politics. In it Auster refers to himself with the
letter A.
““These are the days of Cambodia’s collapse, and everyday it is there, looking out at him
from the newspaper, with the inevitable photography of death : the emaciated children, the grownups
with nothing left in their eyes. Jim Harrison, for example, an Oxfam engineer, noting in his diary :
“Visited small clinic at kilometre 7. Absolutely no drugs or medicines – serious cases of starvation –
clearly just dying for lack of food …. The hundreds of children were all marasmic – much skin disease,
baldness, discoloured hair and great fear in the whole population.” Or later, describing what he saw on a
visit to the 7th of January Hospital in Phnom Penh : “…. terrible conditions – children in bed in filthy
rags dying with starvation – no drugs – no food …. The TB allied to starvation gives the people a
Belsen-like appearance. In one ward a boy of thirteen tied down to a bed because he was going insane –
many children now orphans – or can’t find families – and a lot of nervous twitches and spasms to be
seen among the people. The face of one small boy of eighteen months was in a state of destruction by
what appeared to be infected skin and flesh which had broken down under severe kwashiorkor – his eyes
full of pus, held in the arms of his five-year-old sister …. I find this sort of thing very tough to take –
and this situation must be applicable to hundreds of thousands of Kampuchean people today.” ….Two
11
weeks before reading these words, A. went out to dinner with a friend of his, P., a writer and editor for a
large weekly news magazine. It so happens that she was handling the “Cambodia story” for her
publication. Nearly everything written in the American and foreign press about the conditions there had
passed before her eyes, and she told A. about a story written for a North Carolina newspaper – by a
volunteer American doctor in one of the refugee camps across the Thai border. It concerned the visit of
the American President’s wife, Rosalynn Carter, to those camps. A. could remember the photographs
that had been published in the newspapers and magazines (the First Lady embracing a Cambodian child,
the First Lady talking to doctors), and in spite of everything he knew about America’s responsibility for
creating the conditions Mrs. Carter had come to protest, he had been moved by those pictures. (I can
hear a very strange booming birdcall which I suspect is a plains bustard but I havent got my I.D. book to
check). It turned out that Mrs. Carter visited the camp where the American doctor was working. The
camp hospital was a make-shift affair : a thatched roof, a few support beams, the patients lying on mats
on the ground. The President’s wife arrived, followed by a swarm of officials, reporters, and cameramen.
There were too many of them, and as they trouped through the hospital, patients’ hands were stepped on
by heavy Western shoes, I.V. lines were disconnected by passing legs, bodies were inadvertently kicked.
Perhaps this confusion was avoidable, perhaps not. In any case, after the visitors had completed their
inspection, the American doctor made an appeal. Please, he said, would some of you spare a bit of your
time to donate blood to the hospital; even the blood of the healthiest Cambodians is too thin to be of use;
our supply has run out. But the First Lady’s tour was behind schedule. There were other places to go that
day, other suffering people to see. There was just no time, they said. Sorry. So very sorry. And then, as
abruptly as they had come, the visitors left.””
11.25. Swan Reach. Im in the Len White reserve at a picnic table whose top consists of a massive
piece of slate coloured stone. Im surrounded by wood ducks browsing on lush lawn & looking out over
the Murray river to where I can see a flock of pelicans perched on a river red gum log lying in the water
on the other side. Ive just finished reading the Australian; couldnt get the Age as this is S.A. Its very
peaceful, Im the only one here. When Ive read over the last couple of journal entries Im taking the ferry
(free in S.A. unlike in N.S.W.) & continuing on in a north westerly direction. Im still not using maps (or
looking at info boards) & certainly not a compass but I seem to be getting there. My internal direction
finder is getting more accurate with practice (people who dont wear watches have told me they can tell
the time fairly accurately too but lose the ability once they get one). Im getting very good radio
reception from Port Pirie which is the direction I want to head in…. 4.50. In the pub at Eudunda & when
I leave here Ill probably go to my regular camping spot at Words End near Burra which is less than an
hours drive away. Since leaving the Pinaroo Loxton road yesterday Ive been mostly on dirt. Somewhere
about 35ks south of here I stopped at a creek called Levi Creek for a bite to eat, a dip in the water by
way of a wash, & a walk for 1½ hours or so. Flushed a couple of wood ducks in the grassy gravel of the
creek bed & when I looked down saw 10 or so very small ducklings flattening themselves against the
ground. Then they rushed off in every direction. One of the parent birds kept up an injured bird act till I
was a few hundred yards further up the creek. I felt I had caused mayhem like a giant blundering into a
fragile domain. Hope the parents manage to round up the babies. My main concern for tomorrow is to
time it right for a lunch of pies with a plunger coffee at Wirrabara …. 6.40. Felt good as I was driving in.
Its one of the quite a few regular places I stop at that feel like home. The little pile of wood Saulius
( Saulius Varnas means Sun Crow which makes him a kind of oxymoron) collected for our fire when he
camped a night here with me is still intact. That night when the kangaroo shooters got going in the
paddock across the fence he thought he was going to die, he said next day. On the way out of Eudunda
today I checked the message bank & there was one from H. Everything is fine : shes meeting up with
Kate tonight; school function tomorrow night; Mark has completed the bunk & most of the shelving in
the front room at Miller st. At Robertstown (Lance Morton probably knows it) I rang Ivanhoe. I hadnt
realized H would have already left to meet Kate. Dan answered the phone. He sounded very chipper.
12
Hes not leaving till next Thursday. Yesterday 5 ex Ivanhoe primary school kids boozed on at our place :
Ben, Dan, Kieran & his brother Chris & Zac Jones who has a job washing dishes at the Firestation café
that he got through Ben. Dan says Joe was shouting drinks a couple of days ago so I suppose hes had his
first pay. Wonder if he forked out $100 board to H (will find out tomorrow). Theres been someone in
here since I was here last (see story ‘13/8/01-25/8/01’): there are fresh tyre marks & some of the
branches overhanging the track have been recently lopped with a chainsaw.

Tuesday 30/10/01. The americans, that means we

seeing as we are unconditional allies, will never be able to walk away from pakistan. Pakistan is not an
ally. Its status is closer to that of an occupied country. Imran Khan who has a serious political profile
there & who belongs to one of the important families claims that the pakistani government was
threatened with being bombed back into primitivism if it didnt cooperate. If he is correct & there is
every reason to believe that he should know then the rest of the pakistanis probably also know. The
extremist element, a substantial minority before, are probably already enjoying majority support. The
intelligence service (which created the Taliban) is likely to be the most extremist element in the country
& is probably already doing its best to hide their nuclear bombs because they know we cannot afford to
leave them there. Should Geoffrey Blainey still be of the opinion that this is not a war I draw his
attention to the $400 billion (aust.), the largest defence contract ever, for new aeroplanes just passed by
the U.S. congress. What are these planes for, america already rules the skies? They can only be for
bombing ground targets. I suspect a new age of colonialism is being anticipated, even more vicious than
the last, in which death from the skies will be rained on those who dont cooperate. Worlds End 9.15
(8.45 S.A. time) …. Wirrabara 1.05. Here is a scenario. The side of enduring freedom will support the
Northern Alliance because it represents the interests of a minority tribe, is run by homicidal warlords &
is hated through most of afghanistan. This will ensure that it can govern only with massive support from
outside i.e. us & the U.S. In return they will allow the U.S. military to keep several bases close enough
to the borders of pakistan that a rapid aerial response is possible to destroy pakistans nuclear capability
if need be. It would allow the U.S. to get out of the 3 bases it now is using in pakistan & say it is not
interfering in its internal affairs. But whatever turns out to be the case we have not even a small
influence on choice of alternatives because weve given our support unconditionally. It may be that we
should & aways would have supported the U.S. but why did we have to do it in a way that would totally
exclude us from influencing policies? Have any other countries given their support unconditionally? Its
a huge & gratuitous abandonment of sovereignty. What worries me even more than that John Howard
did it (without consulting parliament) but that our journalists & intellectuals are letting it pass virtually
without comment. Are the battles that were fought for freedom & democracy so far behind us that we no
longer know the meaning of the words? Dont people understand the dangers of an arbitrary assertion of
executive power? That unless it is restricted by constant use of democratic procedures & vigilance the
executive arm always reaches for more power? It seems that our much trumpeted individualism & spirit
of independence was no more than a bit of posturing. Afghanistan is big & we could also have bases in
the south & west of it to contribute to the bombing of iraq (a certainty I reckon) & if necessary iran. &
that would only be the beginning. But long before then the entire muslim world will be seething with
hatred for us, including our immediate neighbour indonesia. I hope I am wrong!… Port Germein (3.00).
Finally got through to H at work. Rang her from Burra. Neither Ben nor Dan had bothered telling her
that I had rung yesterday & the day before though I asked them to. Shes fine. Went out with Kate last
night who is applying for a job in east timor though she has already applied to enrol for a dip. ed. course.
Rang my mum who didnt sound as bad as Egle had made out. At Wirrabara I paid $14 for 2 pies, a jug
of plunger coffee, & a fruit juice. I think they are getting too pricy. Down here by the foreshore (picnic
table under shelter on the esplanade) its like it always is : the peace is overpowering. A jittery person

13
couldnt exist in a place like this. In the bright air & still conditions the gulls are sounding particularly
shrill.

Wednesday 31/10/01. 8.15am. Port Germein. To

assign meaning to something is to put it into a context. If someone then asks us what does it mean we
dont talk about it but about the things around it, what usually is there, what comes before & after, the
order of things. Assigning meaning is a fundamental human attribute. Its a gathering together of a set of
events that we are going to treat as a group – thats the action of the word. Lets suppose I went to Paris to
write my next piece & booked into a seedy hotel on the left bank for the duration then when I got back
to Melbourne, after posting a copy to my mum in Sydney, I got an excited phone call from her saying do
you realize that the room you were in was the very same room I was in when I was studying at the
Sorbonne before the 2nd world war. Extraordinary. What could it mean? In ‘The Book of Memory’ Paul
Auster gives a whole series of similar examples that happened to him. & he tries to answer the question,
unsuccessfully I would say. ‘The Book of Memory’ can be read as a meditation on it. But perhaps the
answer cannot be given as an exercise in assigning meanings but only by the way you lead your life
afterwards. Maybe Paul Austers answer is his life as a writer preoccupied with depicting, if ‘The Music
of Chance’ is an example, the vagaries of destiny or blind chance. Maybe there are events in our lives to
which meaning cannot be assigned (or conversely, to assign meaning would be to deny them), which if
they are to be read as signs can only be answered by the conduct of our lives. I have had my share of the
extraordinary & Ive given an account of some of it in the pieces that I distribute. I hope that my
discerning readers see my writing for what it is intended to be – a tribute to that which cannot be
explained…. 12.30. Hawker. To be always amazed is probably just as unhealthy as never to be. But in a
more dramatic way. For a start you cant sleep & that makes your hands shake. Judgement is impaired &
errors of perception proliferate. You see a road sign or a number & there seems to be a message
embedded there of frightful importance but later someone points out that you misread a u for a v & a 6
for a 9. It is one thing to find connections between things but another to have them multiply till they
swarm all over you. & its frightening. Personalities of people from whom weve been used to
maintaining comfortable distances through the practice of conventions designed to do that suddenly
loom enormous in the imagination & can invade your most private refuges. It seems that we are not
equipped for easy survival in a world of unexpected events & fluid connections. Some manage to
contain them (structure? destroy? transpose? shun? channel?) by the practices & observances of formal
religion. Others write about them. Some douse themselves (or are doused by others) with chemicals so
that they dont see or hear. In the enormous swirl of the unknowable we are helpless …. 3.55. Aroona
Ruins camping area. Im in tourist country & have stopped here only long enough to write the final part
of the entry for today. Then Im shifting back to the previous camping area because its empty. This is the
Flinders Ranges Southern Park. Its years since Ive been here but once I used to know it extremely well.
Probably walked every major ridge & most of the bigger creekbeds. Theres a $6 day pass to get in now
& thats the price for spending the night also. Ive got the relevant envelopes for putting in the money but
dont intend to unless Im sprung. I dont accept that the earth or any part of it belongs to someone to
charge rent. What used to be unofficial camp areas are now formal ones with toilets & they are all
maintained with lots of posts that keep you from driving where you shouldnt. There are some people
here who have enclosed their heads in nets, presumably to prevent flies from landing on their faces. I
saw a pair of cyclists between Port Augusta & Hawker doing the same. They look bloody ridiculous.
There arent even many flies here. I feel a bit morose but am looking forward to a couple of days walking
before meeting up with Saulius & his mate on saturday. The creeks are actually running which is quite
unusual & Im anticipating some sweaty climbs followed by recovery periods in cool pools.
Thursday 1/11/01. This campsite is called Koolaman & its only
2ks or so south of the Aroona Ruins site. The creek is called Aroona creek & it runs through Aroona
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valley. Later Ill climb to Aroona hill at the top of the valley & go on to Mt. Dib & Mt. Dab where Ill
make up my mind what to do. Im taking 1: 50000 topo sheets (Oraparinna, Blinman). I am confident
that I can find my way without maps in this park, the Heysen & the A.B.C. ranges being such obvious
features, but there is no point in taking risks cross-country. This campsite is as neat as you can get, right
up to international standards Id reckon. There are new toilets & info boards & they are roofed to collect
water into tanks for the use of campers. The posts are to keep the cars from compacting the ground
where its not necessary so there is plenty of green about. (just seen a red capped robin). & yes, honey,
the salvation jane is in bloom as thick as it ever was : that bug they released doesnt seem to have
affected it in the slightest. I remember that when we camped here before this site was established we
drove around a no access barrier. That trip remains in my memory like a jewel even though the countless
other trips we did were all great. Ben, Dan & Joe came with us then. We had perfect weather & the kids
were fetching water from a large crystal pool a couple of hundred yards away which is full again now.
That was the year we went on to camp at even better pools (after driving across open fields along the
faintest of tyre marks) on the creek that goes on to flow through Wilkawillina Gorge. There was a pair of
grass parrots nesting in the hollow of a red gum right above where we made our fireplace & I saw
painted finches a thousand ks south of their natural range on a walk through the gorge. Perhaps Im
idealizing somewhat. I used to think all those trips were an insurance against the future but they
probably made no difference. The hard things that were going to happen happened anyway. Maybe the
lesson is what you do do for now, the future is unpredictable, it has to look after itself. 8.30…5.30. The
lady at litho house who objected to me using the bible as a deterrence to thieves (its on the dashboard
now) later gave me a booklet about a japanese christian who had survived the bomb on Nagasaki & in
spite of being extremely ill from radiation poisoning (caused also by his original profession as a
radiologist) & enduring the loss of his family was able to set an example of hope to many who came to
know him in the last years of his life. He was seen as something of a holy man or saint even by non
christian japanese. I cant remember his name & I read the booklet very quickly as it was poorly written
but the standard of writing didnt diminish the stature of the man. Though a christian he respected
japanese tradition. His main message was to preach the importance of prayer. He had been much
influenced by Pascal who though a great scientist & mathematician (16th cent.) also advocated its
importance. It made me wonder what it is we do when we pray. The great prophet, the nazarene, does
not appear to have been an advocate of it & is known to have composed only one (in later years some
christian mystics wrote bookfulls of devotional material) & that reluctantly. Furthermore he advised
people to pray in secret & was no fan of what he saw in the temples which he appears to have avoided.
Personally I feel the need to pray but dont know how : the nazarenes prayer does not seem to be enough.
I would like something more active like being in a large mob of people parading down the street belting
drums, blowing bugles & whistles & perhaps chanting. But Im not a hare krishna or a political activist.
In a previous story (see’13/8/01-25/8/01’) I explained how when we study we place the object of study
into a subsidiary relationship to us & that to a lesser extent language itself is a similar process (perhaps
thats why the prophets attitude). To assign meaning also involves an act of bringing before us,
designating a group. Technology is another kind of self assertion, as is science. But there are things we
do that are quite the opposite. Sex is a joining (though some celibate churchmen may have a more
mechanical perspective on it). So too when we make offerings. When we mourn we join those who are
gone. Day dreaming is a kind of letting go. We let go when we sleep too. When we sing or make music
we allow mysterious forces to find expression through us. We become instruments. Blessed be the
musicians for they shall always remain poor (thats my plug for The Make It Up Club). The same when
we dance. Prayer falls into this category of activities. (19/11/01. As does tai-chi & the Falun Gong
exercises). It seems to me that it is the very opposite of study. In study we bring the object of our interest
into a subsidiary relationship to us whereas in prayer we place ourselves into a subsidiary relationship;
we make ourselves small. Maybe thats why it should be done in private, hidden away.
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 Friday 2/11/01. I had a big walk planned for today but
yesterday I discovered I hadnt packed my hat. I got away with it because it was cloudy but today I drove
60ks back to Wilpena to buy one. The sun is sharp here; you cant spend 7 or 8 hours in it without getting
badly burnt. I had an incentive to go into Wilpena anyway as it meant I could ring H. What a surprise it
was : the kiosk I imagined I would be meeting Saulius & his mate (6/11/01. Port Germein. Gintas
Kekstas, chief of intensive care unit at Vilnius Uni. Hospital; president of litho society of parenteral &
enteral nutrition (whatever that means, I didnt ask); passionate hunter of anything that moves all over the
countries of the former soviet union; been on months long expeditions in the tundra etc.; goes to very
many conferences eg. in greece, mexico, recently at the Munich Oktoberfest; has spent 2 years doctoring
in the republic of yemen; asked me to send a copy of this article to him as his wife edits a journal (what
a delicious irony it would be to be translated from english to litho for publication in a litho journal but I
suspect my stuff comes too far from left field); his surname, like that of Varnas, is also a bird) at has
been replaced by a brand new ultra modern complex housing the shop & the info centre. International
tourists would feel at home here & judging by the accents most of them are. There were more people
wandering about with their heads encased in nets (the shop sells them); people who looked as if they
would be pushed to walk around the block were wearing huge trail type lace up boots. Any amount of
bush gear was on sale in the shop but I was lucky to buy the last packet of muesli there. If you want to
learn all about australian nature you can do it without leaving the complex because every type of nature
book is available. Interestingly, yesterday, as I was returning along a part of the Heysen Trail I noted that
it looked as if it wasnt getting any use. Perhaps the two go together : the bigger the info centre the less
people go out to see things for themselves. On the way from Aroona Valley I stopped to have a look at a
snake on the road. It was a tan colour of about 1 metre & had a faint blackish band below the ‘neck’. It
didnt like it when I got behind it out of its line of view & flattened its neck threateningly in cobra like
fashion. Its tiny head looked innocuous but if its a standard brown snake I know they are poisonous. All
this country is full of emus. Ive seen hundreds of them. The reason may be that there are fewer goats &
the rabbits are gone; at least that was my impression on the walk yesterday. At Wilpena I checked my
message bank in case Saulius had changed his plans & rang H at school. She was out buying books but I
got through to her in the afternoon after doing a walk (and a dip in a pool that the tourists dont know of)
into the pound. I have definitely mastered the phonecard except that I dont know how to use its message
bank facility which I dont need anyway as Ive got one on the mobile. H is fine. She said Ben is chuffed
because hes saved up $4000. Sandra visited Vi & told her how good the house had been for her &
Joe : then they both cried. H says theres been an anthrax episode in Vilnius. I never saw mention of it in
the paper this morning. I doubt if al Qaeda have ever heard of Vilnius. I expect Saulius & his mate will
be full of it tomorrow. After talking to H Ive driven 11ks back north to a very beautiful private spot by a
creek that Ill walk along tomorrow before going into Wilpena to keep my appointment. Im in the shade
of two callitris pines surrounded by vistas of blue (salvation jane) & right in amongst it. There are emus
browsing all about. I had planned to take Saulius & his friend into Edeowie gorge on sunday but its
going to be hot & they might not be up to a 9 hour day. Probably well have to do the tourist round
instead. I havent seen him since we spent a few days in the Burra area a year or two ago though it feels
longer. We had a correspondence that lasted 3 years about what happened to the jews of lithuania. I
harnessed all my resources in the writing of those letters & it may be the most important thing I did over
the period. I think we started out like players on opposing teams, kicking in opposite directions. But like
veterans of the game we came to respect each others style of play & perhaps, over time, we realized that
what was more important was that we were playing on the same field. I think we both respect each
others honesty & attention to detail. I learnt that the same facts can be marshalled to mean completely
different things depending on the perspective you start out with. Each ‘fact’ itself is open to
interpretation & the meaning you give it depends on your intention. Finally, I think, we both had enough
16
of it. I certainly have left it behind: Ive expended too much emotional blood on it. Ive closed it. In his
last letter Saulius regrets my attitude. He says new material is being discovered. The proclamations of
the interim government that tried to function for about a month from the 4th week of June 41 have been
discovered in a private library (this was the govt that was terminated by the occupying germans & most
of its members sent to the Stutthof concentration camp). Mate! That was 60 years ago. Its time to move
on. The world is going insane again. There is a war on.

when he saw that they had turned against him

and were practising every kind of perversion
he sent an angel to punish the people

for six days

the angel strode through the land
pestilence in the left hand
a flaming sword in the right
till half the people broke out in boils and sores
so that even little children were covered in pus
the other half he smote with the sword
so that the earth was awash with blood

on the seventh day

he saw that his bidding was done
and a voice echoed through the heavens

this is my body
this is my blood

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