Latest Articles
Remarkably, the Voice went down despite big business, big tech, big sport, and big philanthropy
Sep 14 2024
13 mins
Ten-Year-Old
One Sunday evening, exiled to
The woodshed while my mother tried,
Ill-tempered, anxious and alone,
To breast-feed her new-born, I saw
My father, jumping off the ute
Delivering him drunk from golf,
Fall down, irons spilling from the bag
I gathered up along with him.
Together on the washstand, we
Commiserated till he threw
Up on the chips. Worse than my cat
He’d drowned for shitting there, I thought,
Since Nigger at least covered it.
Inside, my sister, losing weight
And always crying, must have felt
As starved for milk, as I of love.
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins
