In a development that has sent shockwaves through the sun-bleached corridors of Canberra and the gin-soaked brain of this correspondent, the alleged Bondi gunman has been slapped with 19 additional charges, each one a fresh dab of ink on the blotter of bureaucratic incompetence. The Commonwealth security apparatus, that ever-vigilant guardian of our national safety, is once again under the microscope, and the lens is fogged with the hot breath of public fury. The accused, a chap whose name I shall not dignify with repetition, now faces a rap sheet longer than a politician's promise during election season.
The charges range from the mundane to the magnificent, including possession of a prohibited firearm, reckless endangerment, and, I suspect, crimes against good taste. But let us not dwell on the pedestrian details of the legal system. Instead, let us ponder the magnificent absurdity of it all.
Our security agencies, those fine fellows who spend their days twiddling thumbs and filing paperwork in triplicate, failed to prevent a man from allegedly brandishing a weapon on a crowded beach. One must ask: were they too busy patting themselves on the back for intercepting a grand total of three sachets of illicit quinoa from overseas? The Commonwealth's response has been predictably robust: a sternly worded press release and a promise to 'review protocols.
' I can almost hear the clatter of keyboards as they draft yet another committee to investigate the committee that investigated the last committee. Meanwhile, the good people of Bondi are left to wonder if their safety is worth the paper it's printed on. As for me, I shall retire to the nearest establishment with a decent measure of gin, there to toast the eternal incompetence of our betters.
The charges may be 19, but the questions are legion.
