The same sex marriage “debate” in Australia is doing for us what our indigenous and refugee policy has long been signalling worldwide. It makes us look like a bunch of flat earth fuqwits who lack compassion for anyone ever so slightly different from our Norm (remember him?). Ironic really for a colonised convict settlement that unceremoniously stole its land, decimated the world’s oldest aboriginal nation and then was populated wholly by immigrants.
The SSM plebiscite is non binding and costing the equivalent of years of infrastructure. It lacks any clout and can all too easily be relegated to the back cupboard in the corridors of power. The debate has devolved into arguments designed to panic and distract, that should not even rate a mention.
The No campaign is being spuriously overseen by a close minded rampaging zealot with a penchant for budgie smugglers, who was once given the keys to our kingdom. He has a gay sister but his Christian charity and compassion has gaping holes in it and clearly cannot even be extended to his own family. His children stand against his archaic point of view. Christmas must be fun at their place.
I feel ashamed that the Australian government lacks the balls (I prefer to use ovaries as a marker for courage but women remain grossly under-represented in our parliaments) to simply pass legislature – as so many other nations already have – to give same sex couples the same legal rights that I have. So that their marriages too hold them as legal next of kin in the kind of dire scenarios we all hope to never find ourselves in. So they get the piece of paper, meaningfully stamped.
Like most Western democracies, we are built on a prettily worded constitution that reeks of freedom but delivers very little in our thoroughly modern, grossly overpolicied world. And in the face of war, environmental disaster, poverty and violence who does it harm if two more humans find each other, fall in love and want to commit to each other for keeps?
I voted yes. Twice. Once for me and once for my neighbour overseas who wanted her vote counted too. Even sans glitter, it gave me immense joy.
Your vote doesn’t count on the kitchen table. Post it in.
Amazing camerawork by Jo Potter
Words © Kerrie Basha, 2017