COMMENT

Casting aspersions at
a brave new world

Paul Cockram sticks his neck out
for the last time in 1999

January 2000: Revellers come to their senses slowly, look about for evidence of Y2K chaos and find only great piles of empty champagne bottles. The reality of life as usual causes some depression after the build-up of expectations.

February 2000: The South Australian government announces an issue of free candles as a result of having no electricity left to sell. It's not that the newly-privatised power generating company, ZAPSA, has stuffed-up, on the contrary, it's highly efficient. So efficient in fact that PACAMP in New South Wales bought S.A.'s whole supply at bargain basement rates because they were a bit short after having lost all their power on the futures market to VICVOLT who were still using all theirs to sort out the ESSO debacle.

March 2000: The whole Territory Government descends on Tennant Creek to watch the Chief Minister, or maybe Barry Coulter, drive a golden spike into a symbolic sleeper in front of a crowd of locals, deliriously weeping with joy that the Barkly has at last been noticed in Darwin. The streamers blow away in the wind, the fanfare dies down and the pollies go home.

April 2000: The Asia Pacific Transport Consortium meets with their bankers to convince them to hand over an absolute motza of moolah. The bank says it's an awful lot of their customers' superannuation savings to play with and are they sure it couldn't be done with less.

May 2000: Some bright spark at the APTC realises that the NT Government has way over-played its hand with the railway, what with all the sure-fire announcements and glossy brochures etc, and may have given away some trumps. The train may not yet be on the line, but the credibility of the three governments involved is.

June 2000: The NT Government is gob-smacked by the news that the APTC is just a touch short of the readies and would they get on the phone to Canberra and Adelaide to ask for a bigger taxpayer contribution.
The powers of prediction become a tad wobbly here. What will the Feds do on the eve of their own looming disaster project - the GST? Cosmic cynicism would say an announcement is made claiming everything is on track but there are still some details to sort out.

July 2000: Tax day. Millions of Australians wake to the prospect of collecting, and accounting for, large sums of tax money for Canberra. Early optimism that it'll sort itself out evaporates when the "Where's our ten percent of your gross turnover?" letters arrive from the enormously expanded Australian Tax Office.
Software vendors make a killing with small businesses who fork out big time in the hope their computer will sort it all out for them.

August 2000: The ATO offers to run the entire economy and simply send out cheques to anyone lucky enough to be making a living after the government has made all the deductions necessary to fund its overseas military adventurism and cost overruns on the Alice to Darwin railway.

September 2000: Sydneysiders are shocked to discover only tourists are allowed to use public transport for the duration of the Olympic games. Overseas visitors riot in the streets when it's discovered that the only computer left Y2K non-compliant is the games ticket allocator which refuses to issue any tickets at all until September 2100.
Denis Burke announces a Territory election while the railway, a key plank in his economic recovery strategy, still seems likely to happen.

October 2000: The Federal government announces the sale of Telstra, the Commonwealth Bank, QANTAS, the Army, Navy, Airforce and Canberra in order to raise money for the environment. Most of the money is to go to Peter Beattie to stop him clear-felling Queensland.

November 2000: New research proves conclusively that holding a mobile phone against your head is akin to sticking it in the microwave oven. Sunglasses with earpieces and nose microphones are all the rage with the actual phone tucked safely away in the pants pocket. The phone's ring is replaced by a vibrator, leading to a new catchphrase: "Is that your phone ringing or are you just pleased to see me?"

December 2000: Television cashes in on the few pernickety types who refused to celebrate the new century a year earlier by running another round of 'That was the century that really was'.
Tennant Creek gets a new lease of life as the mines start to come alive.
Who knows, some of these predictions may well come true.

Casting aspersions at a brave new world Paul Cockram sticks his neck out for the last time in 1999 January 2000: Revellers come to their senses slowly, look about for evidence of Y2K chaos and find only great piles of empty champagne bottles. The reality of life as usual causes some depression after the build-up of expectations. February 2000: The South Australian government announces an issue of free candles as a result of having no electricity left to sell. It's not that the newly-privatised power generating company, ZAPSA, has stuffed-up, on the contrary, it's highly efficient. So efficient in fact that PACAMP in New South Wales bought S.A.'s whole supply at bargain basement rates because they were a bit short after having lost all their power on the futures market to VICVOLT who were still using all theirs to sort out the ESSO debacle. March 2000: The whole Territory Government descends on Tennant Creek to watch the Chief Minister, or maybe Barry Coulter, drive a golden spike into a symbolic sleeper in front of a crowd of locals, deliriously weeping with joy that the Barkly has at last been noticed in Darwin. The streamers blow away in the wind, the fanfare dies down and the pollies go home. April 2000: The Asia Pacific Transport Consortium meets with their bankers to convince them to hand over an absolute motza of moolah. The bank says it's an awful lot of their customers' superannuation savings to play with and are they sure it couldn't be done with less. May 2000: Some bright spark at the APTC realises that the NT Government has way over-played its hand with the railway, what with all the sure-fire announcements and glossy brochures etc, and may have given away some trumps. The train may not yet be on the line, but the credibility of the three governments involved is. June 2000: The NT Government is gob-smacked by the news that the APTC is just a touch short of the readies and would they get on the phone to Canberra and Adelaide to ask for a bigger taxpayer contribution. The powers of prediction become a tad wobbly here. What will the Feds do on the eve of their own looming disaster project - the GST? Cosmic cynicism would say an announcement is made claiming everything is on track but there are still some details to sort out. July 2000: Tax day. Millions of Australians wake to the prospect of collecting, and accounting for, large sums of tax money for Canberra. Early optimism that it'll sort itself out evaporates when the "Where's our ten percent of your gross turnover?" letters arrive from the enormously expanded Australian Tax Office. Software vendors make a killing with small businesses who fork out big time in the hope their computer will sort it all out for them. August 2000: The ATO offers to run the entire economy and simply send out cheques to anyone lucky enough to be making a living after the government has made all the deductions necessary to fund its overseas military adventurism and cost overruns on the Alice to Darwin railway. September 2000: Sydneysiders are shocked to discover only tourists are allowed to use public transport for the duration of the Olympic games. Overseas visitors riot in the streets when it's discovered that the only computer left Y2K non-compliant is the games ticket allocator which refuses to issue any tickets at all until September 2100. Denis Burke announces a Territory election while the railway, a key plank in his economic recovery strategy, still seems likely to happen. October 2000: The Federal government announces the sale of Telstra, the Commonwealth Bank, QANTAS, the Army, Navy, Airforce and Canberra in order to raise money for the environment. Most of the money is to go to Peter Beattie to stop him clear-felling Queensland. November 2000: New research proves conclusively that holding a mobile phone against your head is akin to sticking it in the microwave oven. Sunglasses with earpieces and nose microphones are all the rage with the actual phone tucked safely away in the pants pocket. The phone's ring is replaced by a vibrator, leading to a new catchphrase: "Is that your phone ringing or are you just pleased to see me?" December 2000: Television cashes in on the few pernickety types who refused to celebrate the new century a year earlier by running another round of 'That was the century that really was'. Tennant Creek gets a new lease of life as the mines start to come alive. Who knows, some of these predictions may well come true.		Laying the track as it was done about a hundred years ago.