This page has already been transcribed. You can find new pages to transcribe here.




Returning to the booth circuit, we found that an alarming report was spreading through our troops. "We are being attacked from the air!" Sure enough, this report was soon confirmed. An aircraft, towing a large "Vote 1 Meers" banner was flying over Manly. This seemed to us to be against the provisions of the electoral act, which specified the types and sizes of election signs; and we lodged an immediate protest with the returning officer.(Meers later claimed that he had not paid for the aircraft: that it was just provided by an over-enthusuastic supporter.)

The actual vote-getting effect of this stunt was hard to guage, but it had certainly depressed the morale of our hard pressed people on the booths. They now felt that there was no limit to the forces that might be deployed against them.

Damn, I thought. Damn the bloody system.

I looked around the anxious faces of our workers -- my friends and comrades. Perhaps their loyal efforts were in vain.

Sincerity and hard work were not enough, money was what mattered in winning votes. Manly could be bought just like a piece of real estate, a Mercedes, or a whore. In the end, it seemed that Meers would pay whatever price was required.

I could not outbid him. Anyway, did I really want to play this absurd egocentric game? It was now late in the afternoon and the adrenalin was gone, suddenly

Current Status: