'Imagine if Dan Andrews listened to me': Rebecca Judd slams the former Victoria premier as state's crime rate surges

Victorian Treasurer Jaclyn Symes slammed as state set to remain at the lowest credit rating in Australia

Sky News AU

2 hours ago

Sky News AU

Victorian Treasurer Jaclyn Symes slammed as state set to remain at the lowest credit rating in Australia

The Victorian opposition has delivered a brutal rebuke of Treasurer Jaclyn Symes as the state's credit rating remains the lowest in the country, despite her meeting with credit rating agencies. Ms Symes made the trip to New York during the week to meet with S & P Global and Moody's as she attempted to plead her case for why Victoria's credit rating shouldn't be downgraded again. As it stands, Victoria has the worst credit rating out of all of the Australian states, after being dropped twice, initially from AAA to AA+ and then again to AA. The visit to the United States came after warnings the rating could be downgraded once more, with the state's debt set to reach $194bn by 2028. After the meetings, the Treasurer described Victoria as a city offering "stability and opportunity" in comparison to a "sense of doom for America" from a geopolitical perspective, comments shadow treasurer James Newbury says were contradicted by the credit agencies' assessment of the state's budget management. "The credit rating agencies contradicted everything she said. They said there are fundamental issues which we know with the government's mismanagement... so completely contradicted, everything she's said. "I mean, frankly, the Treasurer can't help but fall over her own feet. She went overseas to beg for our credit rating not to be downgraded. And of course, we don't want it to be downgraded, we want it to be fixed. "I just think that the entire state and probably the whole country knows this government hasn't got a good track record of making sure that happens. I think we all know with a nearly two hundred billion dollar debt, that's 1.2 million dollars an hour in interest, they're not going to fix it." Mr Newbury also recalled the Treasurer's awkward moment last month where she asked a room of property developers and investors what their "favourite tax" was. "I think the fact that they've put us on a credit rating watch tells us why we have the worst credit rating in the this is the same treasurer who only a couple of weeks ago went into a really big event and said, to industry, what's your favourite tax? "I mean, is this treasurer serious? We have the worst taxes in the country, the most taxes in country, and the Treasurer thinks that the room is sitting there gagging to pick the best one. Well, they all know which, they've all got a favourite that they don't like. In fact, they've probably got a list of what they don t like." The shadow treasurer said the budget's blowouts under the Victorian Labor government have been "astonishing". "This government multiple times over multiple years has said before a budget and around budget time, 'we're gonna reduce the size of the public service'. And guess what happens come the next budget? They've spent more money on the public service, not less, more money," he said. "I mean, to give you a view of some context, the amount between what they promise at budget time to spend and the amount they actually spend, is $14 billion in blowouts on average every year they've been in government "Just think about that. I mean, it's nearly 15 per cent more than the entire budget they have every year in blowouts. The blowouts are astonishing. So what they put in writing at the start of the year and what they spend 15 per cent above, $14 billion on average in blowouts. You can't believe anything they say."

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

Sydney Morning Herald

2 hours ago

Sydney Morning Herald

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

This story is part of the June 21 edition of Good Weekend. See all 15 stories. Mark Brandi, the author of five crime novels, starting with Wimmera (published in 2017 and winner of the prestigious British Crime Writers' Association Debut Dagger Award for an Unpublished Manuscript), writes about outsiders: heroin addicts, former prisoners, and child victims of poverty and violence. A look at his family background and his career in Corrective Services before he started writing full-time sheds light on why he is drawn to people on the margins. You were born in 1978 in Italy, the fourth son of migrants who ran a pub in Stawell, in rural Victoria. What was your childhood like? There were great aspects to growing up in the country. We went rabbiting, fishing, yabbying, all that stuff. The flip side was being in a small Victorian town which was very Anglo-Saxon. We were the only Italian family, which was tough, especially in the schoolyard. I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know why. You start to think, 'There's something wrong with me.' Then, some of the kids told me, 'My dad told me not to be friends with you because you're a wog.' Did that childhood experience feed into your interest in writing about people who are outsiders? Yes, definitely. Being an outsider myself created a greater degree of empathy for others on the margins. Plus, when you are on the outside, wanting to be accepted, you start to observe people closely. I was watching kids in the schoolyard – how they spoke, what they talked about – and that observational skill has helped me in my writing. Also, growing up in the pub, where I met people from all walks of life: farmers, police officers, chronic alcoholics, criminals. When I started working behind the bar, my dad always said, 'Don't make judgments about people based on how they look. Talk to them because everyone's got a story they want to share.' And that's what I found over time. You listen to people who might look a bit rough and they often had the most interesting stories. That sparked something inside me. When I sat down to write, it affected the subject matter I was drawn to. Your parents ran the pub successfully for many years. Then in the 1980s, the local police started to harass them. What happened? In the 1980s, there were [false] rumours that we were dealing drugs from the pub. At the time, thanks partly to Robert Trimbole [a prominent Mafia figure of Italian background who was involved in the drug trade in Griffith, in south-west NSW], there was a perception that Italians doing well might be linked to organised crime. The police started to take a keen interest in the pub, showing up regularly, checking patrons' IDs and security logbooks. It was relentless. It seemed like they were trying to drive Dad out of business. It was crazy because he was the most clean-living person you could imagine. Then, one night in 1985, there were people from out of town in the bar, drinking heavily. They started provoking some of the customers to violence, then pulled out their badges and said they were undercover police. They started to arrest patrons indiscriminately, grabbing them from their bar stools by the hair. I was seven and heard it all from my room upstairs. It was terrifying. They took people to the cells, then showed up the next morning and charged Dad with multiple breaches of his licence. When it went to court Dad ended up pleading guilty to illegal gambling on the premises – for having a footy tipping competition on the wall, which every pub in Victoria had at the time. None of the other charges stuck. The police kept up the harassment, and it was unbelievably stressful for my parents. It led to them deciding to sell the pub, which was a bitter pill for my dad. He loved running that pub. You studied criminal justice at Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) then worked for 10 years in the criminal justice system in Victoria, including as a political adviser to the corrections minister. Tell us about that. I loved studying criminal justice: the law is fascinating, full of drama and good versus evil stories. We learnt about the social determinants of crime and why we label people deviants. After RMIT, I got a placement at the Department of Justice [now Justice and Community Safety], where I worked in multicultural policy, disability policy, emergency services, gambling and other areas. I went into the department a bit as a crusader, wanting to make a difference. That was partly born of that experience in the pub, seeing power exercised unjustly, and the terrible impact it can have on people. I wanted to do something positive, and that led me to work as an adviser to the corrections minister, advising on corrections, emergency services and counterterrorism. I loved that job. 'I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go.' Your latest novel, Eden, is about a man who spent time in prison, trying to rebuild his life. What did your work in corrections teach you about the prison system? I learnt that we essentially have the same cohort cycling through the prison system again and again. The recidivism rate is stubbornly stuck on about 40 per cent [on average] Australia-wide. It was dispiriting to see the impotence of some of the initiatives to address the problem. You can't just fix it through the prison or justice system. The broader social justice issue is how you keep people from getting into the prison system in the first place. You have written before about class in Australia. Are we the classless society we like to think we are? No. It's incredibly tough for people to overcome the circumstances that they're born into. I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go. A lot of people struggle throughout their lives and are sold this message that if you don't make it, it's your fault. That's not true. There are so many things beyond our control that affect our chances in life. Everyone is doing their best to live a good life; no one is seeking to fail. Let's talk about the role luck has played in your life. In 2010, you had some good luck. What happened? I decided I would like to do some writing, but needed money so I could move to part-time work. My brother suggested I go on Eddie McGuire's Millionaire Hot Seat because I was good at trivia. I thought I'd humiliate myself, but I won $50,000! That enabled me to move to part-time work and start a writing course at RMIT, which was life-changing. In 2012, you were a victim of an equally life-changing piece of bad luck. What happened? I was riding my bike down Brunswick Street in North Fitzroy, a busy area. A car turned right in front of me and didn't see me. It hit me, and I went flying over the handlebars. I had to have two shoulder operations and the recovery was painful; I was out of action for six months. It was unlucky, but in some ways it was a bit of good fortune because it brought things into stark relief for me. I realised it could have been fatal, and I got to thinking about what was important to me in my life. Of course, that was family and those close to me, but also my writing. I realised that I really needed to focus on it and give it a proper go. So I quit my job to jump into the financially precarious world of being a writer. It's a struggle; you can't plan for the future. Forget about super. I rely heavily on government grants. Is it worth it? I absolutely love it. There's nothing else I would want to be doing. When I'm writing a book I love being inside of it, even though my characters are often in difficult circumstances. The two most satisfying things are when I finish a book and I know it's working, and hearing from readers at writers' festivals. That is magic: you've created this imaginary world, and they've gone away and created something bigger out of it, with their own interpretation of it. That's what keeps me coming back to the page. Dogs feature in almost all your books, often in a prominent role. Why? I've always loved dogs. When I was a little kid having a tough time at school we had dogs, and they were my best friends. Dogs have no agenda; it's just unconditional love. They are special to me, so it's inevitable that they end up in my books. I'm paying tribute to their role in my life and the lives of many others. Why did you choose to be photographed in Melbourne General Cemetery for this article? It is just a couple of streets from where I live. My father is buried there, as are his parents, and I've spent a lot of time exploring its sprawling grounds, mostly while walking my dog. Then a few years back, while visiting my father's grave, I encountered someone sleeping rough near one of the mausolea. I began to wonder about what had brought him there. It was the spark that led me to write my latest book, Eden. It features in Eden very prominently.

The Age

2 hours ago

The Age

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

This story is part of the June 21 edition of Good Weekend. See all 15 stories. Mark Brandi, the author of five crime novels, starting with Wimmera (published in 2017 and winner of the prestigious British Crime Writers' Association Debut Dagger Award for an Unpublished Manuscript), writes about outsiders: heroin addicts, former prisoners, and child victims of poverty and violence. A look at his family background and his career in Corrective Services before he started writing full-time sheds light on why he is drawn to people on the margins. You were born in 1978 in Italy, the fourth son of migrants who ran a pub in Stawell, in rural Victoria. What was your childhood like? There were great aspects to growing up in the country. We went rabbiting, fishing, yabbying, all that stuff. The flip side was being in a small Victorian town which was very Anglo-Saxon. We were the only Italian family, which was tough, especially in the schoolyard. I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know why. You start to think, 'There's something wrong with me.' Then, some of the kids told me, 'My dad told me not to be friends with you because you're a wog.' Did that childhood experience feed into your interest in writing about people who are outsiders? Yes, definitely. Being an outsider myself created a greater degree of empathy for others on the margins. Plus, when you are on the outside, wanting to be accepted, you start to observe people closely. I was watching kids in the schoolyard – how they spoke, what they talked about – and that observational skill has helped me in my writing. Also, growing up in the pub, where I met people from all walks of life: farmers, police officers, chronic alcoholics, criminals. When I started working behind the bar, my dad always said, 'Don't make judgments about people based on how they look. Talk to them because everyone's got a story they want to share.' And that's what I found over time. You listen to people who might look a bit rough and they often had the most interesting stories. That sparked something inside me. When I sat down to write, it affected the subject matter I was drawn to. Your parents ran the pub successfully for many years. Then in the 1980s, the local police started to harass them. What happened? In the 1980s, there were [false] rumours that we were dealing drugs from the pub. At the time, thanks partly to Robert Trimbole [a prominent Mafia figure of Italian background who was involved in the drug trade in Griffith, in south-west NSW], there was a perception that Italians doing well might be linked to organised crime. The police started to take a keen interest in the pub, showing up regularly, checking patrons' IDs and security logbooks. It was relentless. It seemed like they were trying to drive Dad out of business. It was crazy because he was the most clean-living person you could imagine. Then, one night in 1985, there were people from out of town in the bar, drinking heavily. They started provoking some of the customers to violence, then pulled out their badges and said they were undercover police. They started to arrest patrons indiscriminately, grabbing them from their bar stools by the hair. I was seven and heard it all from my room upstairs. It was terrifying. They took people to the cells, then showed up the next morning and charged Dad with multiple breaches of his licence. When it went to court Dad ended up pleading guilty to illegal gambling on the premises – for having a footy tipping competition on the wall, which every pub in Victoria had at the time. None of the other charges stuck. The police kept up the harassment, and it was unbelievably stressful for my parents. It led to them deciding to sell the pub, which was a bitter pill for my dad. He loved running that pub. You studied criminal justice at Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) then worked for 10 years in the criminal justice system in Victoria, including as a political adviser to the corrections minister. Tell us about that. I loved studying criminal justice: the law is fascinating, full of drama and good versus evil stories. We learnt about the social determinants of crime and why we label people deviants. After RMIT, I got a placement at the Department of Justice [now Justice and Community Safety], where I worked in multicultural policy, disability policy, emergency services, gambling and other areas. I went into the department a bit as a crusader, wanting to make a difference. That was partly born of that experience in the pub, seeing power exercised unjustly, and the terrible impact it can have on people. I wanted to do something positive, and that led me to work as an adviser to the corrections minister, advising on corrections, emergency services and counterterrorism. I loved that job. 'I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go.' Your latest novel, Eden, is about a man who spent time in prison, trying to rebuild his life. What did your work in corrections teach you about the prison system? I learnt that we essentially have the same cohort cycling through the prison system again and again. The recidivism rate is stubbornly stuck on about 40 per cent [on average] Australia-wide. It was dispiriting to see the impotence of some of the initiatives to address the problem. You can't just fix it through the prison or justice system. The broader social justice issue is how you keep people from getting into the prison system in the first place. You have written before about class in Australia. Are we the classless society we like to think we are? No. It's incredibly tough for people to overcome the circumstances that they're born into. I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go. A lot of people struggle throughout their lives and are sold this message that if you don't make it, it's your fault. That's not true. There are so many things beyond our control that affect our chances in life. Everyone is doing their best to live a good life; no one is seeking to fail. Let's talk about the role luck has played in your life. In 2010, you had some good luck. What happened? I decided I would like to do some writing, but needed money so I could move to part-time work. My brother suggested I go on Eddie McGuire's Millionaire Hot Seat because I was good at trivia. I thought I'd humiliate myself, but I won $50,000! That enabled me to move to part-time work and start a writing course at RMIT, which was life-changing. In 2012, you were a victim of an equally life-changing piece of bad luck. What happened? I was riding my bike down Brunswick Street in North Fitzroy, a busy area. A car turned right in front of me and didn't see me. It hit me, and I went flying over the handlebars. I had to have two shoulder operations and the recovery was painful; I was out of action for six months. It was unlucky, but in some ways it was a bit of good fortune because it brought things into stark relief for me. I realised it could have been fatal, and I got to thinking about what was important to me in my life. Of course, that was family and those close to me, but also my writing. I realised that I really needed to focus on it and give it a proper go. So I quit my job to jump into the financially precarious world of being a writer. It's a struggle; you can't plan for the future. Forget about super. I rely heavily on government grants. Is it worth it? I absolutely love it. There's nothing else I would want to be doing. When I'm writing a book I love being inside of it, even though my characters are often in difficult circumstances. The two most satisfying things are when I finish a book and I know it's working, and hearing from readers at writers' festivals. That is magic: you've created this imaginary world, and they've gone away and created something bigger out of it, with their own interpretation of it. That's what keeps me coming back to the page. Dogs feature in almost all your books, often in a prominent role. Why? I've always loved dogs. When I was a little kid having a tough time at school we had dogs, and they were my best friends. Dogs have no agenda; it's just unconditional love. They are special to me, so it's inevitable that they end up in my books. I'm paying tribute to their role in my life and the lives of many others. Why did you choose to be photographed in Melbourne General Cemetery for this article? It is just a couple of streets from where I live. My father is buried there, as are his parents, and I've spent a lot of time exploring its sprawling grounds, mostly while walking my dog. Then a few years back, while visiting my father's grave, I encountered someone sleeping rough near one of the mausolea. I began to wonder about what had brought him there. It was the spark that led me to write my latest book, Eden. It features in Eden very prominently.

'Imagine if Dan Andrews listened to me': Rebecca Judd slams the former Victoria premier as state's crime rate surges

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Victorian Treasurer Jaclyn Symes slammed as state set to remain at the lowest credit rating in Australia

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

'Imagine if Dan Andrews listened to me': Rebecca Judd slams the former Victoria premier as state's crime rate surges

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Victorian Treasurer Jaclyn Symes slammed as state set to remain at the lowest credit rating in Australia

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

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