The first casualty was a young woman bearing the distinctive sign smartly traipsed away into the happy neighbourhood courthouse gleaming gold in the sun. And the band played a patois of gospel and folk around the various slogans of the gay left. The crowd was perhaps less ('l') liberal than the Mardi Gras and slightly thinner. The punks stood their ground & exchanged a few ideas with the cops. Organisers ran around quelling the violence & keeping spirits high, shouting: No violence, no violence. Everybody looked.

When, finally ("They're [in] College Street now.") the cavalcade arrived Mr Nile looked tired & slightly bored in the ministerial Mitsubishi. The cameras aloft clicked resolutely. The Christians then entered the lion's den. The man's churlish response to my question as to why he was dressed in a Paddle pop lion's suit ("Why not?") is now clear. Several lions roamed about in fact although the Taylor Square winos footed that bill best.

Generally, though, alcohol was scarce due, possibly, to the day rather than the beautiful weather. This scarcity demonstrated a fair committment to protest, although the more vocal locals seemed on top of it.

As to the sloganeering, there seemed to be little organisation. A sole vocalist tried to get things going with a "What do we want, Freedom of Choice, When do we want it, now, How do we get it, resistance" but that bit the dust.

At the front line a heavy stench of fresh horse shit from one of the dozen mounts that brought the total contingent of lawmen up to perhaps a hundred.

The crowd's biggest moment finally arrived. Retracing exactly (bar the bop down Flinder's St.) the Mardi Gras route the Christians entered singing chastening tunes. They were no match for the vocal left slinging abuse and gesturing boyishly at the floats and the footsoldiers. An occasional more rabid attack drew no reaction except from one gentleman, bibled and megaphoned, who quoted some steamy scripture & raised an honest sweat.

The aboriginal float contained a very startled young girl & the remark from the youth on my left "We took your country" made even me take notice. The other viper was a rather heavyset gym buck of forty or so who gleefully advertised his superior taste by lampooning the unsuspecting reactionaries accusing them of shopping at K-Mart.