Crying Wolf

“Earthquake is Fine,” says Head of Earthquake Department

A series of expensive fines have been issued to the Intraplate Faultlines responsible for the 3.8 magnitude earthquake in Southern Victoria in late May this year.

BMA’s Chris Marlton investigates.

Shuddering Consequences

Tissue boxes wobbled, egg yolks quivered, and loose-fill asbestos danced in the ceilings of Melbourne homes on the morning of Sunday, 28 May as Southern Victoria was struck by yet another earthquake.

Ingrid Stitt, State Minister for the Environment, was on her doorstep Monday morning to meet reporters.

“We are officially shook,” said the Labor MP. “But we don’t intend to take this lying down.”

Indeed they did not.

At 2pm that afternoon, Minister Stitt’s office had approved the surprising decision by Cathy Heycock from the Environmental Protection Authority (EPA) of Victoria to issue a $22 million fine to the 3.8-Mag Earthquake responsible.

The quake was Christened “Earthquake Mickey” by Dr Bertrand Timbal, General Manager of the Research Program Unit within the Science and Innovation Group overseen by the Divine Metric Mediators at the Commonwealth Bureau of Meteorology less than two hours before the groundbreaking fine was issued.

Earthquake Mickey was contacted by BMA Magazine for comment, but has not yet responded.

Unified Response

Lauren Blizzard, Chief Media Officer at The Natural Disasters Union (NDU), issued the following press release on Wednesday, 31 May:

“The NDU hold strong to the following eternal truths:

A) All Natural Disasters, Earthquakes, Mudslides, Wildfires, Hurricanes, Sinkholes, and those known associates, are born of the relative excess quantity of natural agent as defined by humanity. If a tree falls in the forest… etcetera, etcetera...

B) One Species’ trash is another Species’ treasure; and

C) We ain’t got any money.”

Landslide Peter and Hurricane Andrew, the Co-Managing Directors at the NDU, arranged to meet with Minister Stitt’s Office. At time of reporting, it has been difficult to learn if such a meeting took place for the simple consideration—in this humble reporter’s opinion—of the logistics of a mudslide and a hurricane occurring simultaneously inside a meeting room full of fleshy humans.

Family First, and Second

Earthquake Mickey’s ex-wife, Tsunami Sue, agreed to speak with BMA Magazine about how the recent events have disrupted her life.

“He doesn’t pay child support, so how in hot hell is he supposed to pay a fine like that?” she bemoaned, wind-swept, and on the verge of tears.

“Our children, Cyclone Olivia and Acid-Rain Jed, hardly see him as it is. If he gets put in jail for being unable to pay the fine they’ll never see their father.

“This state Government just doesn’t care about families!”

In stark contrast, Mickey’s current girlfriend, Avalanche Blanche, holds a different view.

“Any publicity is good publicity, ain’t it? We’ve already signed a book deal out of this, and I’m getting a perfume endorsement. We’re gonna call it Blanche-Stanche.

“And I’m excited to announce... I’m pregnant!

“Yesiree... The earth shook for me too the other night. That Mickey of mine is one hell of a lover!”

NDU Faces Backlash

The current media circus has pointed attention to another issue that the National Disaster Union have been quietly battling in the courts for the past 18 months.

Light-Breeze Sally filed a discrimination suit against the NDU in late 2021 for not allowing her membership.

“I’ve got a right to have my form of Natural Disaster recognised and embraced on the same level as the rest of them,” said Light-Breeze in a recent interview with esteemed publication, Gust-Weekly.

Lauren Blizzard from the NDU responded sharply that, “Simply being a social disaster is not enough to qualify to join the Union. We have standards… standards that this candle-blower isn’t capable of understanding.

“Tell her to get back to me when even ONE insurance claim she’s responsible for causing is refused… just ONE, and then we can talk.”

Uncertain Terms

Minister Stitt’s office maintain that the $22 million fine will stand, and that Earthquake Mickey’s refusal to pay has resulted in the case being escalated to the Supreme Court of Victoria, where Mickey will be expected to show up and face the music.

The case is scheduled to begin in October 2025, to allow time for a number of expensive, Tokyo-style, earthquakeproofing modifications to be installed into the Supreme Court foundations. These include load-bearing walls and supporting beams.

“These stalling-tactics don’t phase us,” said Sinkhole Jim, Head Lawyer at NDU. “We’ll show up when they ask us to. We’re not shying away. We don’t care what they do to the building, Mickey’s gonna show, and you better believe he’s gonna bring the house down.”

Chris Marlton is a comedian, writer, painter, and film-maker. His comedy special Mephisto Waltz is available to watch for free on YouTube. All upcoming comedy shows are available at www.linktree/ChrisMarlton. Follow @chris.marlton & @ laserfirecomedy on Instagram and @ChrisMarltonComedy on Facebook.

In Praise of Tailgating

In Northern Queensland, people are tough. They vote for Bob Katter, drink terrible beer, and repress all emotion (well, not all; they have a reserve for when someone brings up Daylight Saving Time).

Yet despite the tribulations that come with living on or near spectacular coastlines and subsisting on outstanding seafood, there is one thing they don’t do: tailgate.

I was reminded of this the other week when driving on the Bruce Highway between Proserpine and Mackay, arguably one of the most blighted strips of sad patchwork asphalt in the country. I noticed the utes behind me maintain a respectful distance between their vehicles and the beat-up Toyota Camry I rattled along in.

Sure, the faces I saw in the rear-view mirror spoke of frustration at my audacious insistence on maintaining the speed limit. But their vehicle placement was impeccably courteous.

It is different in here in The Capital.

Tailgating is a pastime that Canberrans hold particularly dear, though not for any obvious reason.

It is certainly not because we are in a hurry, because there is nowhere to go with any urgency in this town. There’s pick-up from daycare or school, sure, or going to Emergency, or getting to Dobinson’s early if you are on sausage roll detail for work morning tea and did not preorder them (and in the case of the latter: you are an absolute goose. Always pre-order your Dobinson’s sausage rolls.

Nor is it impatience that compels vehicular space intrusion. On the contrary, Canberrans have an erotic enjoyment of anticipation. A Canberran’s preferred form of edging is awaiting the opening of a national culinary institution. When Messina arrived, we collectively blew our loads.

And hard. So hard, in fact, that pants were ruined, lower backs were thrown out, and a good long sit on a cold, cold wheat bag was essential.

We also queue for events with sustained ardour and some heavy breathing. We understand the payoff that comes after a long wait. Thanks, in part, to these proclivities, The Capital is not an uptight city either. We have been voluntarily dulled by the ease of daily life, seduced by the opiates of high incomes, prudent town planning, and Dobinson’s sausage rolls (and you know— you KNOW—that Jenny (or is it Gemma?) the EA loves a sausage roll. She always brings in homemade scones for morning tea. With Chantilly cream. So maybe you can show a bit of respect for Jenny/Gemma and preorder from Dobinson’s. Could you do that, champ?)

Other states say that the only good thing about the ACT is that marijuana is legal. Canberrans know this reputation to be grounded in ignorance. We are quick to point out that, in fact, marijuana is decriminalised rather than legal. So actually—we say, polishing our glasses before pointedly readjusting them on our face— it’s not all that good.

Still, Canberra is a city of people who would sooner punch cones than drywall, security clearance allowing.

We informally regulate life tasks through social consensus, including turning on heaters (ANZAC Day) and planting tomatoes (Melbourne Cup Day). Canberrans do this because we love a rule.

Except when it comes to parking inside the lines at the local shops, of course. Or merging, anywhere.

Or how we use the green turning arrow as the chance for a powernap, only making a sprint to turn just before the arrow goes red.

In all these instances, we allow the spirit of chaos to enter our being and cause small to small-medium amounts of inconvenience to those around us. It is the closest we will come to civil disobedience.

To social conventions we declare: heck you, and the Volkswagen Touareg you rode in on.

We are a simple people. Our pleasures are few and unspectacular: a good find at the Kathmandu factory outlet; the many-titted Skywhale; and a book club meeting with a wide spread and a short running time.

We also enjoy leaving Canberra, a proverbial starter’s pistol firing early on the Friday of any given long weekend, signalling the coordinated abandonment of our fair city. Preferably involving unnecessary nose to bumper proximity between cars.

Canberrans just want to feel something, and we don’t really mind what that something is. The soft nuzzle of front to rear bumper is a form of intimacy for us, a welcome relief from the ennui of large incomes and larger residential blocks.

There you are in front of us now, going at or slightly below the posted speed limit. You’ve made that choice, and we are behind you all the way. Like, right behind you. Unlike our North Queensland associates, we are not tough but courteous with our vehicle placement.

What we are is a Territory of soft-handed tailgaters. Is it love? Or is it trolling? We do not know. What’s important is that we know what we like. And I, for one, applaud our community for its chosen pastime.

Unless, of course, you are the driver of a Volkswagen Touareg who was tailgating my Hyundai on the Parkway last Saturday, in which case you need to take a good hard look at yourself. You were so close to me I could practically feel your cold, recently-Messina’d breath on my neck. What I’d really like is if someone keyed a huge, veiny dick onto the side of your car. That’d be nice. And until that happens? Well, I’m more than happy to wait.

Suma Iyer is a Canberra comic who performs across Australia. To keep up to date with Suma, head to @sumaiyercomedy on Instagram.

BMA’s Anthony Plevey talks to playwright Eloise Snape about the upcoming Canberra performance of her first major play, Pony. It’s a one-woman, 30-role exploration of pregnancy that is as brazen and hilarious as it is heartfelt and meditative.

Pony is billed as an “oh-so sassy, crass crusade” through pregnancy. Following a spirited conversation with playwright Eloise Snape, she reveals it to be much more than just a comedic premise.

“It's a fully scripted play,” states Snape. “A single-handed performance in which actor, Briallen Clarke, inhabits 30 roles.”

These roles include protagonist Hazel, her mother and grandmother, and the midwife and doctor, delivering a no-holds barred travelogue through childbearing’s disorientation. It’s a study of the transition from free-wheeling party girl to responsibility-laden mother-to-be in 21st-Century Australia.

Snape acknowledged director Anthea Williams' script collaboration on Pony, her first major work, and her trust of Williams and Clarke in rehearsal.

“It was nice to step back, confident that they knew the story, and knew the ideal way to rehearse to bring the best out,” she reveals.

“Briallen is incredibly, insanely talented. I knew that she would understand the story and the way that I see it.

“The way she delivers the punchlines and the jokes is exactly how I heard them in my head when writing.”

Asked on who is the enemy of this crusade, Snape acknowledged that reality, biology, survival, and loss are chief among the foes. The sense of loss and hope generated by the work has surprised audiences, who perhaps settled into their seats expecting a light serving of crass comedy.

“I was aiming, and hoping, to make people laugh and cry, so it seems to be doing that,” she says.

An aspect of loss is emphasised by the use of the eponymous 1996 song, Pony, by Ginuwine. With its hedonistic lyric, this is Hazel's party-girl anthem. While she self-confessedly doesn't care much about her job, with a child imminent, she's painfully aware of the dwindling chances left to hit the dancefloor to that song.

“She is a Peter Pan type character,” says Snape. “She thinks she is in her early 20s.”

Pony also has its take on the stereotypes of pregnancy and the challenges of being a millennial mum.

“One of the things that we're trying to say with this play is that the journey to becoming a mother is almost impossible,” states Snape.

“The expectation that while you are growing another human in your body, you are also supposed to do all the things that you were doing before. How we are meant to still achieve, work, and run companies.

“All whilst having to choose and juggle birthing classes, gender reveals, and other strange, not necessarily enjoyable things that are expected to be done nowadays.”

Along with the culture shock and “impossibility” of pregnancy, Snape's Pony also tackles the various mental health issues brought on by childbearing.

“Hazel is having her first child, she is struggling with prenatal anxiety, frightened of what she is going to lose, and comparing herself to people in her world,” says Snape.

Relating to her own experience:

“It can be a short period,” she says. “At the time, however, it feels like it's going to last forever. You do, eventually, start to find yourself again. Then, if anything, a year later, you've learned, found yourself, and become more whole as a human being.”

Similarly, Pony doesn't shy away from close encounters of the gynaecological kind.

“Yes, it does get quite graphic and raw with some of the descriptions,” Snape says.

“Through the midwife character, Hazel experiences the way in which, in pregnancy, a woman's body, becomes not only hers but also everybody else's property.

“A thing to be looked at, examined, and judged.

“I don't hold back,” Snape continues. “As much as we want to try to escape our genes and our genetics, we can't. With horror stories in her head, and performance anxiety about the birth and the aftermath, Hazel asks: 'Will my vagina be destroyed?'”

It’s not all out-of-control discomfort, pain, confusion and doubt, of course. The wonder and mystery of motherhood also shines.

“On the journey of the play we go through all of those things with Hazel; the physical changes in the body along with the societal pressures,” says Snape. “However, you walk away with a sense of positivity, hope, and wonder at the pure feat of nature that is growing a human being in your body. How incredible women are and how incredible it is to bring a child into the world.

“Women are so powerful and just complete superheroes.”

To honour this very point, a feature of the season will be the morning Babes in Arms Performance on Thursday, 22 June at 11am.

Her Canberra and Canberra Theatre Centre invite new and expectant mothers to complimentary coffee and cake before heading into a special breast-feeding friendly, house lights on performance.

Pony is showing at the Canberra Theatre Centre between 22-24 June at 7:30pm in the evenings, with a 2pm matinee on Saturday, 24 June. Tickets are $49 - $69 + bf via Canberra Ticketing.