Great tidings on this
Christmas Eve.
Like all geniuses, he has a
difficult name, just like Einstein, Wittgenstein, Mooney, Reynolds... ahem,
perhaps even Weatherup.
No, he's a real person, and his name is
Ture Sjolander, who modestly omits the word genius from his self-description as a Townsville-based media
artist and innovator.
Well, Ture, old son, you're all
that and more, for you have cut through all the weasel words of self-serving,
point-scoring political debate about Kissing Point, and shown some great lateral
thinking.
The pic over there is
just the start, with many stylish building also planned for down the slope
behind Kissing Point including a new entertainment centre, museum and other
innovative structures.
This old bird is so overcome
with tears of joy (no,no, not mirth) that he suggest you gaze in shock and awe
at this brilliantly simple solution at
But this is a less than
perfect world, and like many of us, Ture is a somewhat flawed
genius, because his brilliance is sidetracked by some glimmerings of commonsense
and compassion for the armed forces.
He sees his twin towers (a most
unfortunate concept for the purpose) as supplementing the accomodation at
Lavarack Barracks, arguing that it was high time
the military had the five-star bivouacs
they deserve.
Understanding that the
purity of his purpose will undoubtedly be diluted by pork-barreling politicians,
this bird is going to get in first, and suggest how various interest can be
met.
Just so Mike Reynolds
doesn't get himself into moist turmoil, at least one of the tower blocks should
be public housing.
Prince Peter of Lindsay, the Laird of
Herbert, can have the other tower for his beloved boys in khaki, so he'll pipe down. For a while, anyhow.
Maybe.
His Radiance and various councillors have
a wide array of community interest to be satisfied, so instead of dopey parkland
and open spaces for dogs to poop
in, the Magpie recomends that
there be a skateboard facility installed to satisfy the dork element, (open 24
hours a day, that'll keep'em off the streets) and the parade ground should
double up as donut and burn-out site for Cr Fay Barker's favourite denizens, The
Strand hoons.
There would surely be room
for an archery range to cater for minority sporting
interests.
To stay in touch with
community attitudes towards public policy, politicians could take turns at
removing the arrows and returning them to the archers as a humbling service of
humility (and opportunity, heh, heh, heh).
This area could double up,
on a rotational roster, as a small arms range for the army lads and lassies. You
never know, after 105 years, those damned Ruskies might eventually find their
way to this jewel of the South Pacific and try to overrun the original
fortifications installed to repel them. Of course some unpatriotic NIMBYS will
complain about the noise but bugger the whingers.
A golf driving range facing
out into the water wouldn't take up too much room, the Greens might moan but any
turtles choked by the splashing balls could be sold to local restaurants for
soup, all proceeds to the North Queensland Conservation Council, so that's their
interest looked after.
Now here's the twist which could see Townsville become a global
destination for MENSA members (Dear Perplexed of Pimplico, MENSA is the
organisation for high IQ
clever
dicks).
A politician enclave
!!!!
Neat, eh? Here's how it
works.When anyone is elected to any public office at any level of government, by
law they will be required to live in some of those low-density
three-storey blocks on Cook St. First served, no choosing neighbours by party.
Mooney next to Reynolds, the Hill household cheek by jowl with the Barker
bunker, what fun. In this way, they would be well in touch, nay, even up close
and personal, with community issues.
If this is becomes law
across the State, the principle of living close to issues would be ideal in
other communities, too.
And first cab of the
bloody rank would be Desley Boyle, required to live with her cuddly bat
population in speciallyconstructed digs in Lissner Park, Charters
Towers.
And made to sleep hanging
upside down.
Some denizens of Charlie's
Trousers probably would't care if she was hanging the other way
up.
And a merry bah
humbug to you all.