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Prison Remissions need to be Reconsidered

Published on November 21st, 2015

In the 1990s the Tasmanian Government embarked on prison reform. One key change in that reform was a political decision that prisoners didn’t deserve their one-third automatic remissions for good behaviour. So prisoners’ good behaviour remissions were removed. The Government, appeasing Victims of Crime advocates, deemed that prisoners could in future only earn a maximum of three months remissions for good behaviour on any sentence.

Inevitably, the Tasmanian prison system spent the next twenty years turning into an even bigger pile of violent overpopulated shit.

The trouble with removing good behaviour incentives for long-term prisoners inside the system should be obvious. A prisoner serving 10 years would have had 3 years and 4 months remissions to lose if he assaulted a guard or burned down the education section. Or raped little Timmy, the sixteen year old stamp thief.

Whereas, the current incentive for a man serving 10 years is a wheedling 3 months. So if the prisoner doesn’t get parole, or isn’t seeking parole, the difference between being good and being bad (whether to rape young Timmy) – if no other external sentences are incurred – is next to nothing in prison terms. The incentive to be good is small; the disincentive to be bad is almost non-existent.

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Celebrating our Two Year Coffee Anniversary

Published on November 6th, 2015

Two years ago this morning I waited for Megan in the crowded carpark of the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. I had my Zenza Bronica ETRS medium format camera and hoped to have an enjoyable coffee with somebody I’d grown to enjoy on Twitter. The moment she got out of her car I was smitten. That’s how life turns on a dime some days and I have never been happier.

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Neil Diamond in Melbourne

Published on October 29th, 2015

It was nice getting out of Tasmania for a couple of nights holiday. Megan and I ate a lot of good food, roamed the inner city streets of Melbourne with rural Tasmanian gusto and sat up in the middle of Rod Laver’s way-up-high-in-bum-fuck seats for a couple of hours of Neil Diamond. For a man in his 70s, Neil banged out song after song like the old showman we expected. It was a great little holiday.

Of course, it would have been nicer to be there for a week. The food and coffee in Melbourne’s central business district are sublime. But the beds in the Mercure Treasury Gardens are like having to sleep on an unpadded pile of railway sleepers. And our requested city view was of a nondescript littered roof area above the Mercure entrance where old socks and a not-quite-empty iced tea bottle flew circuits in the wind as mock salutation to The Tasmanians.

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About the Author

Steven Clark Steven Clark - the stand up guy on this site

My name is Steven Clark (aka nortypig) and I live in Southern Tasmania. I have an MBA (Specialisation) and a Bachelor of Computing from the University of Tasmania. I'm a photographer making pictures with film. A web developer for money. A business consultant for fun. A journalist on paper. Dreams of owning the World. Idea champion. Paradox. Life partner to Megan.

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