Troughman, Myra Hindley and the Former New South Wales Minister for Health: Sordid Tales from the Underground

Ian Curtis declared that it was love that will tear us apart but that was nothing more than the naivety of youth and what he would have soon learned had he kept on kicking along the mortal path is that it is fucking that usually tears us apart. Love, it keeps us on the straight and narrow. It is fucking that often leads to trouble. It is fucking that tore down Sodom and Gomorrah. It is fucking that can tear us apart: from life, from society, from a career in politics. Fucking and ego. Fucking without regard for health or law or the nature of politics.

Most readers won’t have heard of Troughman and by the time you’ve read the next paragraph you will probably yearn for that time in your life when the man and the myth that is Troughman existed well outside your very own consciousness. There will be plenty of readers who will certainly be a little jerky when they head for sweet relief next time they are down the public house and on the Dame Edna’s.

Troughman, as it happens, is a fairly literal moniker. This gentleman, seemingly, got his kicks from being urinated on and would often inhabit the urinals of gay clubs and parties in Sydney throughout the nineties. Showing compassion, I will spare the details that, for good or ill and at this stage I would say ill, were told to me other than to say he welcomed all comers and would wear little more than a pair of suitable jocks and a yellow handkerchief around his neck. He became somewhat of a legend of his time and even once hired his own DJ to play exclusively in the bathroom. That was how he got his thrills and each to their own and to be honest my biggest query has to do with stage fright: there are plenty of men who can’t take a leak with a dude standing next to them…one would imagine it wouldn’t be all that easy to fire off on a mostly naked stranger lying below you.

Troughman, according to legend and completely unverified, subsequently died of an infection caused by his unusual fetish. It may well be just another Bobby-McFerrin-committed-suicide tale but those who know more seem to think otherwise and his eccentric type of kinkiness seems to have caused him to take a premature exit from the highway of life.

A special type of kinkiness also saw Myra Hindley spend over half her life in prison after her involvement in the killing of five children known as the Moors Murders. Hindley got involved sexually and romantically with a Scotsman named Ian Brady, an older man with a history of animal mutilation and a fascination with both Nazi Germany and sadomasochistic sex. Hindley’s last years of freedom played out like a perverted Nazi pantomime, a tribute to Brady’s dual fascinations. She bleached her hair; she started wearing Germanic clothing; she became known as “Nessy” to Brady; she assisted Brady in the satiating of his sadomasochistic sexual tendencies. Those sadomasochistic sexual tendencies spiralled all the way to murder as both Hindley and Brady kidnapped, sexually assaulted and murdered five children in the mid-sixties. Hindley and Brady murdered for sexual gratification. Hindley never saw freedom again while Brady remains locked away in a prison hospital for the criminally insane.

There is, quite obviously, no link between the oddity of Troughman’s sexual proclivities and the heinous nature of the sexually motivated murders committed by Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. Both tales do, however, highlight at the extreme edges how fucking can fuck you up.

That is a lesson former New South Wales ALP heavy hitter and one time leadership hopeful John Della Bosca will have learned this week as his entire life dissipates into nothingness due to a woman scorned, the fragility of his own ego, the moralistic nature of politics and an obvious acceptance of infidelity as par for the course.

Less than a week ago John Della Bosca was plotting to topple the hapless Nathan Rees, a legitimate contender for worst Premier in the history of the Commonwealth. Della Bosca had the numbers and was set to become the top dog in New South Wales and an even bigger player in Labor Party politics in this country. Della was ready to pounce on the premiership over a year ago but the Iguanagate scandal at which he and his MP wife Belinda Neal were front and centre forced him onto the back foot. So he bided his time and gathered the numbers, lost some weight and built his profile and let his soldiers create the instability required to launch the coup.

It was how Della Bosca passed the time, however, that has seen his political ascent come to a complete and immediate halt along with the distinct prospect that his wife will leave him in the very near future.

Della Bosca decided it would be a wise idea to pursue a sexual relationship with a woman half his age who was not his wife. The woman, Kate Neil, claimed that she found Della Bosca’s eyes and smile “beautiful” and that he was “a spunk”. A sex therapist has subsequently determined she was predatory by nature and merely on the hunt for fame, fortune and power. Obscurely, she also dated possibly the least amusing comedian in all of Australia and certainly the weirdest looking, Flacco.

The relationship lasted about six months. She wanted him to leave his wife. He knew that was political suicide though it would seem highly unlikely he ever told Kate that. They both said they loved each other though on both fronts the claims of eternal affection would seem debatable. Neil loved power. Della Bosca loved his own image. He wanted nothing more than sex and knowledge he could still get attractive young girls into bed. When this finally dawned on her she opted to walk the irrational and vindictive path: she went public, anonymously, and sought to destroy the career and personal life of Della Bosca. She has done a pretty fair job. She can, however, expect a fair amount of retribution from ALP foot soldiers who rarely treat an attack on the powerbase of their party particularly well.

Neil vindictively went to News Limited to pass on information of the affair and was quoted extensively, playing the victim before writing a painful 600 word screed justifying her malicious political slaying. She “knows what happens to women who get caught in sex scandals” yet she decided that her burning desire to exact revenge on Della Bosca for “using” her was far more important than protecting herself from public scrutiny by simply letting it go. She “was saddened by the consequences for John and his family” yet she was the one who wrought this whole maelstrom and in a very public manner. She claims to accept responsibility yet palms the entire blame off on Della Bosca every second sentence. She makes snide remarks about politicians lacking moral fibre yet she pursued and slept with a married man and then humiliated him in public when he wouldn’t leave his wife.

Della Bosca immediately resigned as Health Minister. His leadership ambitions are now nothing but road-kill at the end of his political road. His life in politics is essentially in a vegetative state with absolutely no hope of even a partial recovery. He is a political leper. Infidelity is rarely smiled upon but in politics it ranks up there with treason and corruption as the most scandalous of crimes. To do so with a woman less than half your age just cranks the social stigma levels up exponentially. His wife will now not only leave him, presumably, for his unfaithfulness but also out of political necessity. That is how things work, particularly in the Labor Party. You are cut loose once you become a political liability no matter how entrenched in the organisation and the politics you may well be. The ring on the finger won’t mean much when it comes to public perception and political standing.

And once again the act of fucking has swallowed another victim. In politics, fucking is only acceptable if it is with your partner and usually only if you are married. Infidelity is a killer unless you are exceptionally good looking or extremely charming and even the latter is unlikely to save you unless your name is Bill Clinton. Unfortunately for John Della Bosca, he has neither looks nor charm. Hence, the death bells ring just as they did for Elliott Spitzer, John Brownlee, John Edwards and many others. Only the Kennedy’s can get away with it and they pay for it with the multi-generational curse that hovers menacingly above their title.

I certainly won’t pass judgement on Della Bosca. People are free to live and die by their own moral and ethical code. Most, including this author, find infidelity totally unpalatable but it is a matter for Della Bosca and his wife. His lack of political nous, however, is the most astonishing aspect of this story. Well, after his ability to bed a reasonably attractive woman half his age. The fact Della Bosca could be sleeping with this woman while plotting his own putsch of the premiership suggests Della Bosca was either a political ignoramus or paralysed by notions of his own invincibility. In essence, Della Bosca was either stupid or delusional and neither are particularly handy attributes in politics.

Della Bosca didn’t have the extreme sexual proclivities of Troughman and he didn’t commit any heinous crime against humanity for his own sexual gratification like Myra Hindley but his life has changed markedly because he didn’t practice safe sex. That is true, at least in a political sense.

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