Honi Soit not so fondly recalls the Abbott era in an article on its website containing this reprint:
A Day in The Life of the SRC President
March 27, 1979
I arrive at the SRC to be immediately confronted by a garbage can on its side and papers scattered all along the SRC corridor. However, this does not seem as dirty as one might think, as the walls themselves have been covered in obscenities. A clean floor would seem almost incongruous.
I notice that the front office wall has been decorated with homosexual posters by one of the front office staff who stares sullenly and uncooperatively, especially when I take them down and ask him not to replace them with others of a partisan politico, socio, sexual bent. He complains to the Hon. Sec./Treasurer, the Honi editors and anyone else who will listen.
I walk down the corridor to my ‘office’. It is finally time, I decide, to remove the condom which has been pinned on my door. It rather clashes with the lesbian posters that have been plastered there. A notice I had placed on the door reads “Tony (confidentially) you are a fuckwit”. It has now been slashed for good measure.
My first phone call is to someone who has been trying to ring me for days. Messages are often strangely mislaid at “our” SRC.
Finding a copy of Honi, I check on a feature I had suggested containing photos of SRC graffiti, an article of mine condemning such vandalism, and one defending it as “art”. Photos and articles are almost indistinguishable on a blurred grey-spotted background, and the page is dominated by a daubed slogan. It seems the paint brush is at work even on the pages of Honi. Perhaps it is just as well – the pro-graffiti article is three times as long as mine. The Honi editors apologise profusely, but no, they will not reprint the feature.
Returning to my office I am troubled by the thought of the SRC’s utter irrelevance to the daily academic grind of most students. These thoughts are not dissipated while I remain for several hours, not receiving a single call, letter, or visit from any student, except occasional abuse from the “welfare” officers across the corridor.
I console myself with the thought that at least I haven’t had to remove candles, placed so as to jut obscenely from the front office wall, or try to stop payment on cheques disappearing from the front office.
WHY DO WE ALL CONTINUE TO TOLERATE PAYING FEES TO THIS ORGANISATION? I HOPE YOU WILL HELP RESOLVE THIS QUESTION BY VOTING IN THE FORTHCOMING REFERENDUM ON THE SUBJECT.