‘An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics.’ Plutarch
‘Anti-conventionalism in everyone can just lead to mess and confusion. I think that society is like a chessboard, if there are too many coloured squares, nobody can play the game,’ she replied, as she stalked away with her chin held high.
‘But that’s not the reality,’ Dion called out. ‘You could learn to play that kind of chess game if you wanted to.’
‘Dion, I know that Cantilever always seems to rub you up the wrong way, but there’s no harm in considering what she has to say.’ Ardent said. ‘I remember my dad saying that when things were falling apart, society had become a bohemian anarchy. He said that defiance and rudeness were the norm. It was common, he said, for people to display images on their clothing and tattooed bodies that were fearsome, crude, kitsch, and cartoonish.’
‘Stop flapping your gums, Ardent. I know all the points. You’ve told me ad infinitum how people who try and differentiate themselves just want a look-at-me notoriety, motivated by egoism and the desire for celebrity. Constant hostility and oppositional behaviours may have unwanted effects, blah-de-blah-de-blah. But what about if you were always on the outside and you were demonised by the Empire of the Majority. How would you feel? Besides, tattoos and body decoration are a form of art, in my humble opinion. And Cantilever has a personality like a lawnmower.’
‘I can’t claim to know how things have been for you, Dion, but I have been mocked and ridiculed and labelled a Conservative, so I know that it’s miserable being treated with repugnance and derision. I’m against that. Cantilever, also, has experienced discrimination. She was born into a group of Theocratic Sovereigns, which saw women as polluting, and she was constantly told to cover herself so that she did not entice men. Let us try to understand each other, where possible. Often we have much in common. Besides,’ he said with a cheeky smile, ‘in the fin-de-siècle period, I had to walk over rainbow crossings everywhere I went.’
‘The thing is Ardent, equal rights for me, took nothing away from anyone else. And Later there were heads on spikes along those roads and crossings,’ Dion said, stern-faced. Then with a dazzle in his eye, ‘Old buddy, old sport, you have a point, and I’m not in the mood for an argument. Let’s split and go fishing. Tom tells me his granny taught him how to cook bream in the coals and ashes. My mouth is watering at the thought,’ Dion clapped Ardent on the back.
‘Ah food, a pleasure and a necessity,’ Ardent replied happily, as he saw Bunyip and Candy scrambling towards us and looking remarkably healthy.
Ardent, Dion, and I went fishing for bream in the river with some old fishing lines that Ardent had in his shed. Ardent lived backing on the river, and so our fishing spot was private, and hopefully, safe. Tom and Valour were tasked with starting the fire in an area shrouded by shrubs. Nan had shown us how to make fire, the way she was shown by her grandmother.
This fire-making method involved Tom rubbing two sticks together with force so that a powdery sawdust was produced. Valour blew on the sawdust until it glowed red, and then it was dropped onto dry tinder, and Valour blew on that until it ignited.
Later, when we were lying around after our fish feast, and Dion sighed and said that he was ‘full as a butcher’s pup,’ I got to wondering about where Hera and Sylvia were, though neither were exactly favourites of mine. I couldn’t relate Sylvia to Nan; she was a bit of a fruit loop. I looked up at the black cloak of the sky and spangle of stars and began to sink into a warm and fuzzy doze, but a thought rose to the surface.
‘I was wondering,’ I said, ‘why did Cantilever read all that legal stuff to our mum?’
‘Ah, we were wondering when you would twig about that,’ Dion answered sadly. Apparently, your mother has accepted the unacceptable. She is a pessimist who fears that the relative safety in which she lives is as good as it gets.’
Valour interrupted, ‘She just wanted to remake herself into someone else, thinking that she could wash her old self away.’
Dion continued, ‘She won’t leave the Sovereigns. And of course she has other children now. She wanted Tom and you to stay with her, and that process, which almost broke you, she believed, would bring you to God.’
‘Everything is getting too complicated. I simply don’t know how to process all these extra siblings and having a mother who I don’t actually know, and losing Nan, who was my rock…..’
I became alert as Bunyip and Candy began frisking about and lashing their tails, and I could hear the sound of feet.
‘Something’s out there,’ Dion trilled excitedly. ‘Maybe it’s aliens!’ I’m pretty sure Dion was pulling our leg, having a joke, but Valour, in a serious tone, said, ‘If you hear the sound of hooves outside, it is more likely to be a horse than a zebra.’
‘Just jiving, ‘ya rugrat, I know that you should always consider what’s more likely…Though, I think that the aliens are out there and hiding from us.’
A woman appeared like a ghost through the smoke. She was tall with long glossy hair that was full of her power. She walked very straight, with great poise. Her cheekbones were as high as her hopes and ambitions. There was an intensity in her eyes that could burn you. Bunyip and Candy ran to her, and she stroked their heads softly.
‘Hello Ardent, my name is Panda,’ she said, with a fluting voice. ‘These two,’ pointing to the dogs, ‘have been my companions for some weeks, and we have become great friends.’
‘We wondered….’ was all Ardent could manage. He looked like he had been struck by lightning. His mouth was hanging open a bit and his eyes were out on stalks.’
‘I’ve been waiting to talk to you, as I have a message from the Sydney City Mob. There is to be a convention with consultation and debate about incorporating voluntarily into a union, with hopes of working towards a federated state. I've had a boat under guard in the river waiting for you.’
‘I thought that the name of Sydney had changed? Dion said, puzzled. ‘Or am I wrong?’
‘You are right, but the name didn’t stick in the minds’ of people. I think our future has many names,’ Panda cryptically replied, raising her lashes like velvet curtains.
‘My cousin would say. “He that is ambitious for his son, should give him untried names,”’ murmured Dion.
Ignoring all this chat, Ardent stuttered, ’We are keen, aren’t we, Dion? We desperately need some laws and institutions to prevent the continuing resistance,’ Dion nodded slowly.
Then Dion added. I don’t really like the whole idea of having to impose laws, but I’m convinced from experience that a society with no laws is all chaos, turmoil, and cruelty. Though, I support the right to resist, challenge authority, and express dissatisfaction. Principled disobedience is sometimes necessary when there is injustice or repression.’
Panda, who had had enough of resistance and rebellion to last her ten life times, ignored Dion and continued. ‘One of the things we want to discuss is the protection of public order and the people. Perhaps extending our organised groups of watchmen/women, who patrol the streets. We have a few ideas, but a lot of problems, especially out on the Great Western Highway, where bushrangers attack travellers in lonely areas.’
‘The nights are a time of great disorder and danger, but the days are even worse due to the Sovereigns and assorted vigilantes, anarchists, wackos, deviants, and psychopaths.’ Ardent said.
Dion responded, ‘I reject these labels and judgements, Ardent. The human mind invents categories, and they operate as a form of social control. We have to regard people as equals, and we need to emphasise mutual obligations in the pursuit of a just and ethical society.’
‘Pretty words do not replace reality,’ Panda cut in. You have to take action. For example, in Sydney we have a law that all houses must hang lanterns, burning vegetable oil, outside when night falls. That has actually had some measurable effects against crime and vandalism.’
‘Just great, light-polluted skies. I must say that I am opposed to control being forced over another part of the population,’ Dion said snarkily.
‘Nan told me that Ancient Australians looked to the sky for information on what to eat. When they saw Gugurmin, the Celestial Constellation Emu, it was time to look for and eat emu eggs’, I spoke up. ‘Lighting the sky would stop us from seeing the stars.’
Cantilever appeared and stood next to Panda. ‘Sorry, we have to be pragmatic and take the utilitarian approach: the greatest good for the greatest number. Also, if you want to play make-believe, you can simply travel where there are no lights. That’s most of the country now.’
I noticed Dion wince, and I had nothing to say; I was so shocked, like a shower of cold water had drenched me.
‘I am all for evidence-based policy, Cantilever, but I am also motivated by the virtue of moderation in all things. Perhaps, when we are able to restore some level of technological progress, we could have movement activated lights. I am sure we can find some ideas that might work well for most of us,’ Ardent said, looking pained.
‘Whatever!’ Cantilever sneered. ‘I just came to tell you that the bodies cannot be removed from the shopping centre, as it is too dangerous for our crew. Cantelope, however, has offered to carve a plaque to commemorate the various people who lost their lives.’
‘Thank you, Cantilever.’ Then turning towards me, Tom, and Valour, Ardent asked, ‘How do you feel?’
Tom answered very formally, ‘I’m sure the crew tried their best, and we thank Cantaloupe for her thoughtful gesture.’ There was nothing else to say.
Then, for some reason, Valour remarked that Hera had told him that during the Siege of Parramatta back in the days of the fall, she was fighting with the Demos, hiding from the Sovereigns in that shopping centre, when a baby with the group started to cry.
‘Hera said that the group had to decide whether they got rid of the baby to save the group.’
‘What do you mean, “get rid of the baby”?’ I burst out. ‘Like a sacrifice?’
From the corner of my eye, I could see various feral cats stalking towards the remains of our fish dinner. Although wild cats had damaged a lot of the native animal population, I sometimes saw wedge-tailed eagles fly away with cats in their beaks.
Candy surged forward, snapping her teeth, lifting her head, and barking in an intimidating manner. Then Bunyip joined in, creating a cacophony.
A sound like a giant insect and a whoosh of air sent the cats flying in fear, and Candy and Bunyip leapt up as if on springs and ran behind Ardent.
Panda was spinning a piece of wood attached to a string in a circle, and this was making the vibrating sound.
Soon, she let the thing rest, and in the silence, she said, ‘It is a bullroarer. They go back to Palaeolithic times and were used all over the world to communicate, including Ancient Australia. The boat should be here soon, so get ready to leave.’
Panda, after a few minutes, loudly called out, ‘Coo-ee.'
A short time later, a boat arrived. ‘It looks like a tugboat,’ Dion exclaimed.
‘Yep, it is,’ Panda said. ‘We have a small group of engineers, mechanics, and carpenters who have restored the old girl and even made many of the mechanical parts, using the old methods. We have to raid a few places to get some fuel for the engine. But she does the job. The trip will only take an hour or so.’
Soon we are gliding along through the water, the sultry night air and stars for company. We were all quiet, looking in wonder at the dark profiles of statuesque skyscrapers and high-rises that were once full of people working and living.
‘We’ve even got ships circumnavigating the continent, as some predatory foreign entities are after our seafood, coal, and timber. The problem is that we haven’t got enough young ones coming up to continue what we’ve started.’ We just looked at Panda in amazement.
‘However,’ she continued. ‘We are boiling all the drinking water now and filtering out about 90% of micromatter, and there are signs that the fertility rate is improving…….Though, the issue now is that females are living in cognitive isolation from males, who inhabit other ideological straightjackets. Cognitive echo chambers have caused a lot of problems; what we need is to come together with universal, human truths. I think if we can focus on the things we can agree on, we might get somewhere. We don’t want to fall into the problem of trying to please many opposing and competing factions again.’
‘Got to watch out for those pesky sans-culottes,’ Dion mumbled acerbically.
After a while, Panda pointed. ‘Sydney Olympic Park was over there somewhere. My dad used to tell me about the Olympic Ceremony in the year 2000 and how it made him cry with wonder and pride.’ Then, as though to herself, she said, ‘We all need stories that tell us where we are from and where we are going.’
As it grew darker, and we became used to the forboding edifices of riverfront homes, empty and lifeless, Panda pointed, ‘Bennelong, an Ancient Australian was buried over there, at Kissing Point. He was a friend of Sydney's first Governor, in 1788. And while the story started with a kidnap, Bennelong sailed to England with the governor, and was presented to King George III. He later returned to his clan.’
‘Nan would have loved that story!’ I said. ‘She always said that our history was crazy and amazing.’
‘It is that,’ she nodded.
I was amazed at the sheer volume of houses, the mansions and tall buildings, crowded together. So many people must have lived here once. My mind struggled to imagine streets teeming with people crossing at traffic lights as streams of cars waited, with people going to jobs, home, and shopping. It was all too much.
Most of the houses that I’d been into had so many possessions — overflowing with clothes, shoes, and stuff. There seemed to be an obsession with material goods, wealth, and status symbols. Though I had been in other shacks that had almost nothing. I wondered how those living with hardship felt, watching others flaunting their loot.
‘Imagine,’ said Tom. ‘All these buildings and roads used to be packed. I wonder if the great number of people caused lots of stress, aggression, and competitiveness.’
‘What would Malthus think about where we are today?’ Valour pondered. ‘Culture has been lost, and trust is diminished. And with so few young people, there is likely to be little innovation.’
‘One side wanted no immigrants, and the other no capitalism. It was never going to work out well,’ Dion added. Then trilled, “‘well, some go this way, and some go that way. But as for me, myself, personally, I prefer the shortcut.’’’
I said, ‘There was Buckley’s chance of things working out.’
‘Some countries didn’t want immigrants, and they weren’t having any babies either,’ Valour said too loudly.
‘There are plenty of houses for people now,’ I added.
‘One of Australia's greatest authors and poets, Banjo Patterson, lived with his grandmother around here,’ Panda stated, ignoring the negative chat. Then Dion began to sing, ‘“Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a coolibah tree”,…. I once attended a musical where pink koalas were singing the tune. It was quite enjoyable. Though, poets tell many lies.’
‘Glad I missed it.’ Cantilever murmured sarcastically.
I noticed that Dion was always moving, tapping, and humming tunes; sometimes he mimed playing a guitar. He was a one-man entertainment engine.
‘Goat Island was home to the first water police station and harbour fire brigade. And there, you can see the skeleton of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It’s not safe anymore, and anyone who lives on the other side has to travel by boat or go around. We are working on some ideas….But at the moment it seems impossible.’
No one made any reply to Panda, as we were all mesmerised by the sight of the once great metropolis. Sweeping roads, towering skyscrapers with multitudes of windows looking blindly upon us, under a province of stars.
We got off at Darling Harbour, which was surrounded by a void of nothingness. We climbed some stairs and crossed a bridge, which seemed solid, and walked along a street where small shining oil lamps hung.
At the end of the road, I could see people, with someone holding a lantern. As I got closer, I noticed individuals playing instruments. One was tapping a drum, another tootling on a clarinet, and a third had a small didgeridoo. ’It’s 12 o clock and all is well,’ one sang as they passed us.
‘It’s a new initiative to help people feel safer. The musicians call out the time, play soft music, and watch out for crime and wayward behaviour,’ Panda said as she led us onward.
Dion snorted, ‘Wayward behaviour! Crime is a result of the harsh realities of trying to survive.’
‘I wonder if it’s not hardship but personality?’ Valour added.
No one said a word.
Down another street, more glowing lanterns, the hubbub of voices. A small restaurant, delicious aromas, with waiters serving plates of food, the sound of music, which diffused out and floated along with us. Bunyip and Candy poked their noses inside and sniffed the air, hopefully.
We continued walking. Even though it was clear that there had been large holes in the road, these had been repaired and large containers of plants lined the road in places.
Suddenly a man leapt out juggling balls. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Codpiece,’ Panda called to him as we passed. She said, ‘He’s trying to start a circus. Comes from a long line of performers……It’s not really a priority, but I’ll try to make something happen. What we really need are clubs and hobby groups, to create community connections.’
We entered a large opening into a building and walked past shops that actually had locked doors and products on display. The oil lamps lit the way as we journeyed up 5 levels of stairs.
‘Alrighty, this is just the start of the stairways,’ Panda said, her eyes shining. ‘Our offices are up in Centrepoint Tower, but don’t be worried, this building was made to withstand earthquakes and extreme wind. The problem is that there are 1504 stairs to get up the 309 metres. Are you all ready?’
‘Yes,’ we chimed, but I was worried, as being without a right hand, I couldn’t hold the bannister.
Looking kindly at me, Panda, murmured, ’Don’t worry, one of our workers is a paraplegic and he beats me up the stairs. It will take about a half hour and there are bannisters to hold on both sides.’
I was relieved. And, up we went, with the sound of shoes and the tapping of dog paws. Our way lit by the ubiquitous oil lamps. Soon we began to talk.
‘We have people who volunteer to keep these lights on every night. This city is an enterprise of cooperation. We value trust, honesty, rules, and procedures. We provide assistance and service to all who have common interests.’ Panda stated, like a well-oiled speech.
‘What about the Sovereigns who don’t want these same things?’ asked Ardent.
‘And what if your subjects…..I mean citizens have different interests?’ added Cantilever.
‘We govern here by consent, and those who do not agree with our principles and do not want to contribute can go and live in the other enclaves that exist elsewhere. We experience constant threat from these groups wishing to annexe this territory. We would prefer to have an association of states with a treaty, but many of those enclaves are too extreme with enforced ideologies.’
Panda was lost in thought for a while and then added, ‘this is why we have guards around our state library at all times. The various Sovereign groups still want to destroy all the knowledge that existed before. They want to make the world anew from scratch and for their people to live in an endless present based on whatever past history they choose or manufacture. One group of Sovereigns has even written a book called The War of the Order of Terra Australis With the Foreigners. They leave copies around to influence people that they are the legitimate rulers of this place.’
‘Do they liberate or conquer?’ Dion mused. ‘But, yeah, there are always plenty of censorious book burners about….’
Tom cut in, ‘It is generally the case that what is in the popular imagination has very little relationship to the reality of the past.’
‘We stand for the rights and equality of all citizens before the law, with no special exemptions. Our sovereignty is embedded in the people and public good. We try to balance security with liberty. And, we have no teleological delusions. We want reform and change towards a good society, without violence.’
Apropos of nothing Cantilever said, ‘Empty vessels make the most noise.’
‘In reality, it has always been impossible to eliminate contradictions and frictions. There will always be those who will use violence to assert their political claims. And those who will do anything to be agents of change rather than passive subjects,’ Tom offered.
The past is littered with bloodshed and cruelty inflicted by utopians who believed they had the vision of perfection. The question is, what will we do in the face of attacks by such extremists?’ Ardent said.
‘Before us, another group tried to govern, but they were very repressive, banning free speech and compelling other types of speech. Then, another group grabbed power, claiming that their views were being repressed. They used the existing censorship methods to outlaw the opposition and silence dissent. Luckily, we were able to turn this situation around in the nick of time.’
‘Free speech is only permitted when it suits the ideology, otherwise it’s labelled misinformation,’ Dion snorted.
‘The thing is,’ said Tom, ‘you need values and customs, too, in regard to speech. Otherwise we can fall into chaos, with trolls, conspiracy theorists, and ideologically motivated tribes in a scrum for dominance.
After a pause, Tom continued. ‘Of course, what we call conspiracy theories may have some nuggets of truth in them. Also, sometimes questioning the orthodoxy or official line can cause you to be branded a conspiracy theorist. The fear that the machines and technologies that we created may attempt to replace or destroy us was not, perhaps, unfounded. Our present emerged out of the choices we made, and warning voices were ignored.’
It was too dark outside to see much when we got to the top, so we just had a snack and drink and looked around at the desks, books, and other paraphernalia.
‘I did not notice any cars with bodies in them,’ I said to Panda, who was rolling out sleeping bags and mattresses for us.
‘No, volunteers removed those, and we buried the bodies according to their wishes, as far as we could find out what they were. All the names are duly recorded, and we had a remembrance ceremony last year.’
I was feeling more hopeful than I had for a while as I drifted off to sleep in my sleeping bag with Bunyip and Candy at my feet. But I awoke during the night to see Dion, shoes off, creeping across the room. He put a finger to his lips and mouthed the words ‘going out,’ and he vanished into the night.
I lay there staring into the dark, then suddenly jumped up, and after putting on my shoes, began to follow Dion down the stairs. Bunyip cocked an eye and yawned and continued sleeping.
When I reached the bottom, I saw the glow of Dion’s blonde wig in the light of a street lamp. Keeping well behind, I followed him along the deserted streets.
The tall buildings skyrocketed over us, silent and brooding, as we moved along, when unexpectedly, yellow light fell from an unzipped doorway, where people mingled and weaved inside, with wine glasses flashing in their hands.
As Dion made a grand entrance into the wrangle, calling out, ‘hello peeps. I thought that I’d just rock up.’ I used the distraction to move behind the Aspidistra near the open door.
‘Welcome to Gadigal, darling!’ A woman shrieked with giant red framed glasses and a shock of multi-coloured hair. She was wearing a thing like an overall that a mechanic would wear to fix cars, but with thingies like old Christmas decorations sewn all over it. Around her neck was a bicycle tire, painted silver. I looked around the room, and the others who were engaged in air kissing Dion were attired in variations of this mystifying fashion style.
Finally, the group dispersed, and Dion roved about the room looking at the art, which I found even more befuddling. One canvas was plain white with a seashell stuck in the middle. Dion leant in close, and I could hear him reading the blurb underneath: ‘The discovered structure of the universe is manifest in the possibility of a new reality.’
Another canvas had a hole cut out of the middle and a children’s toy car coming through the hole. Dion murmured, reading, ‘the viewer is transformed and corrupted into a hegemony…..’ I couldn’t hear the rest as others began talking about transformative cultural values, social critiques, artistic authority, and freedom. It was all very puzzling.
The blazing sunlight woke me not so many hours later. Panda and Ardent were discussing the merits of a ‘Hamiltonian’ system of government, which has enough power to do big projects. Or, a ‘Jeffersonian’ system to limit concentrations of power to safeguard liberty.
This new world Panda talked about sounded very flat and flavourless to me. Like you just had to tolerate everything that others did, even if it was nausea-inducing. And there was no single thing that everyone would believe in. But maybe, it would stop all the fighting. Maybe.
The view from the tower was 360 degrees of the corroding city and the sparkling harbour, fluffy clouds, swords of sunlight, lines of buildings like vertical batteries, rusting ships, a froth of fresh green trees in the park, and so much more.
Panda, Cantilever, Dion, and Ardent were engrossed, heads together, looking at papers and talking. Panda looked up, and seeing that I was awake, said that Tom and Valour had gone downstairs to a cafe for breakfast some time ago.
‘You can go downstairs or have something to eat here.’ Panda added. ‘In the times before, there were two revolving restaurants on top of this tower: one restaurant revolved clockwise and the other counter-clockwise.
‘Wow! That’s amazing!’ I cried in wonder.
‘Those photos that you showed us of the tower when it was built made me think that modern buildings could be innovative and distinct when surrounded by traditional buildings, but later, when there were so many monotonous and homogenised boxes, they became nondescript, repetitive, and dull. No longer futurist, but boring,’ Ardent said, with his usual serious honesty.
‘I myself like what is burlesque, exciting, and interesting, whether it be modern or traditional.’ Dion added, smiling.
‘I’m with you,’ Panda said, nodding. Cantilever remained tight-lipped.
‘Oh, for calls of nature, we have built composting toilets on the level above. We use the waste for the vegetable garden we have going up there; it’s coming along pretty well.’
‘OK,’ I said, turning bright red. But I have to take Bunyip and Candy out for their walk.’
I went downstairs with Candy and Bunyip and followed the aromatic smells, blather of voices, and chink of cups and plates and found the cafe, which was outside in the mall. I could see someone taking bread and pizzas out of a wood-fired oven, and a large jug of orange juice sat on a table. Most remarkable of all were the small children, dangling chubby legs from the chairs.
Children and babies were such a rare sight these days. I had occasionally seen feral kids about when we had travelled with Nan, scrawny and burnt by the sun, and pretty much wild. Nan said they didn’t live long with no one to feed or care for them.
Nan said that back before the 1970s, before the contraceptive pill came in, there were kids being put in orphanages. There were also lots of teen mothers by the 80s and 90s. Then many people had to use assisted technology to have a child. Later, there were hardly any children born. How things change.
I overheard Panda last night talking about trying to get nappies and toilet paper through trade with other groups. She said that supplies were running very low and parents were not happy about washing cloth nappies by hand. Valour had to add that, ‘in ancient Rome they used a sponge on a stick instead of toilet paper.’ There was silence for a while after that.
I ate a delicious roll with bean-cheese and tomato, washed down with some tangy blackberry juice. I paid with a large jar of honey, which Panda had got from a lady with beehives in Parramatta.
I sat at one of the tables and listened to the burble of conversation around me. One man with close-set eyes and a long mournful face droned, ‘Panda refuses to let Zephyris the chef hand out flyers for this cafe because the historian Livy believed that the Roman Empire fell into decline when cooks acquired celebrity status.’
‘It was actually his belief that luxury, greed, and personal ambition led to moral and ethical corruption,’ another person with combustible-looking hair replied.
‘When your founding principles disintegrate, it’s all over,’ an ancient-looking man in a toga added.
© Copyright 2025 Democritus Jones