Lot's Wife Edition 8 2013

STUDENT AFFAIRS
biology professor and therefore cannot vote.
His hands frantically wring his t-shirt back and
forth and his mind feverishly tries to reconcile
the image in his head of a stately old biology
professor and the dishevelled and wet youth
standing before him. I take advantage of the
ensuing pause and make my escape across the
hallowed white masking tape on the worn
carpet. Apparently it is election week.
My usual tact in election week involves
blending in with the wallpaper and avoiding
the manically enthusiastic advances of comers
from all sides as if they were infectious. The
Clayton gods had different plans for me this
year, though, and I immediately came face to
face with one of the head honchos of Clayton’s
own resident career antagonists, running this
year on a ticket heavy-handedly dubbed “Left
Hook”. He frantically began to inform me of
the fascist undertones of the bigoted policies
of the other ratfuckers running in the election,
and though I don’t really align politically, it’s
hard to ignore someone so honest in their
fervour that they will walk around in red all day
yelling at passers-by. Our discussion progressed
and eventually it was time for consummation
via how-to-vote card, which was forcefully
thrust into my hand without my consent. At
this point I noticed something odd, though.
There were candidates for Left Hook, the most
ardently anti-establishment party on campus,
running on the ticket of Go!.
‘It’s because it’s strategic, it’s nothing
ideological. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,’ he
assured, his eyes glinting in a way that made me
think that he probably realised it was a little
fucked up, too.
That was enough to pique even my
interest. What does that say about these parties,
leagues apart on the political spectrum, willing
to compromise their principles and dive into
the mud together for just a sniff of political
gravy?
Throughout the week, almost
unintentionally, I began to find out other
things about this year’s election that made that
first fetid whiff seem like just a precursor to
something more.
The MSA elections have, in recent years,
revolved around the incumbent juggernaut,
Go!. Holding the high majority of office bearing
positions in the Monash Student Association,
they are well equipped, influential, and
numerous. The campus crawls with an army of
feverish blue shirts, and among their ranks are
without doubt a few future career politicians.
By sheer numbers alone they overwhelm
competing tickets and feed on their carcasses.
Maybe jumping into their sleeping bag isn’t so
incomprehensible after all.
‘They’re everywhere. It’s like an empire.
My advice is just not to fuck with them,’
remarks another friend of mine whose political
libido, like my own, is satisfied by observation.
He has a flair for the dramatic, but the tone
of the conversation still implored me to learn
more. We sat undercover as it rained, shooting
the shit, and he eventually mentioned the
extension of the Go! tentacle into my very own
Lot’s Wife.
“What does that say about these
parties, leagues apart on the
political spectrum, willing to
compromise their principles and
dive into the mud together for just
a sniff of political gravy?”
Some of the most powerful laws in
society aren’t law at all, but convention.
They’re not written in black letter, but they
still carry weight in the mass respect they
inspire. An example is that, in our democracy,
the government shouldn’t really meddle in
the affairs of the media. This idea is already a
little bit hobbled at Monash, as Lot’s Wife must
submit requests for money to the MSA, like a
griping child to a parent. In fact, Lot’s has to ask
for permission to spend the money generated by
the magazine itself via advertising. Journalistic
independence isn’t dead, per se, but it’s taken
a hell of a beating. Add to that the fact that
Go! also decided to install their own choice of
editors, rather than following convention and
accepting the endorsements of the previous
editors for the position, and journalistic
independence at Monash is lying in a gutter
outside the Nott in a pool of blood and shards
of glass, spitting out teeth and trying to work
out which way to crawl home.
Admittedly, my own affection for the
publication and the ideals of a democracy might
be colouring my language. Maybe I should have
slept more before writing this. Maybe having
state run media at Monash will result in a fair
and balanced approach to reporting. That’s
actually not a bad mantra: fair and balanced.
They should use that.
Maybe I should just vote for Free Beer.
They sound like they have solid policy.
‘Yeah you would vote for Free Beer,
wouldn’t ya.’ my friend continues. I think I’m
being lambasted.
‘That’s part of the empire, they get idiots
like you to vote for that stupid stuff on the
Feeder Tickets and it just consolidates the
empire.’
I am out of my depth, but I’ll have a
go at this. The “Feeder Tickets”, like “Free
Beer” and “Free Parking” are like your friendly
neighbourhood white supremacy party in the
following ways: they’re on the periphery, and
only crackpots and people who don’t care
will swing them a vote. However, behind
closed doors they have a creepy preference
deal that moves these votes gained in apathy
and boredom to a mainstream political party,
like the ALP. Or like Go!. As far as I can tell,
another layer was just added to the continually
thickening plot and I am really out of my depth.
I spent the rest of my Tuesday alternately
seething and forgetting. By the end of the week,
it’s clear that Go! has prevailed, with some of
the Left Hook candidates dragged in on their
shirt tails.
Don’t look to me for a pronouncement of
what it all means or what happens from here.
The fog cleared and for an instant I saw the real
layout of the city. All that I really know is that
a lot more goes on behind closed doors in our
windy abode than I previously thought.
‘Ah, don’t worry about it bro. We’re
gonna be out of here soon and then it’s not our
problem.’
Maybe my doomsday ramblings aren’t
really necessary.
Maybe that decaying odour is actually just
from that dodgy sushi place.
Thomas Clelland is not a member of any political
party on campus.
LOT’S WIFE EDITION 8 • 2013
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