​Chaos and Insanity at the Parramatta Early Voting Booths

I've been at the Parramatta voting booths for about an hour, and I'm ready to leave. Nothing interesting is happening.

But suddenly everything goes a bit crazy.

It starts with an Australian Electoral Commission supervisors coming out. She tells off some of the volunteers outside, then turns to me. The conversation goes like this.

"Are you a volunteer?"

"No, I'm a journalist," I say.

"Well, you can't take photos here."

"I'm pretty sure I can," I say. "This is literally a public area."

She turns and walks off, pretending she didn't hear. One of the elderly volunteers turns to me and smiles sympathetically. "They're a bunch of fucking Nazis," he says.

To hell with it, I think. I'm going to stick around. Not because I think anything interesting is going to happen, but just out of plain defiance. I stand there taking photos of volunteers and voters outside the polling station, which like many around the country is open for early votes.

Then a Liberal volunteer walks over to chat to me. I tell her I write for VICE and am openly taking notes on my notepad. There's no confusion, I may report what she says

She wants to chat about is the US election and asks who I'm "mentally voting" for. This seems like neutral territory. "I'm mentally voting for Trump," she says. My grin freezes, and refuses to leave my face. "My grandparents fought for Western values," she says, "not Sharia Law."

Right. It's going to be one of these.

"Have you read the Quran?" she continues. "No," I say. "I have not read the Quran."

"It's incredibly violent, racist, sexist. It's filled with horrible things. Do you know what it says about the Jews?"

"Yes," I say. "I'm Jewish."

"Oh," she says, clearly taken aback.

"You know, the Bible has some pretty nasty things in it as well," I say. :Yes, but we discard the bad things," she shoots back.

"So what about the moderate Muslims who do the same with the Quran?" I counter. "Well," she says, "we like those. We like the moderates. But their children become radicalised."

"What is it you think radicalises them?" I ask. She stops for a minute, and I watch her face. I wonder if she might circle back around to the idea that a society demonising an entire people based on their religion and heritage could be a significant contributor to radicalisation.

But I don't get an answer.

At this point, a man in his 30s carrying several plastic bags sets up shop directly opposite the line of volunteers. He is very loud, very ocker, but somehow articulate. He uses precise language to vocalise ideas that seem completely disconnected to this physical universe. "If only we used hydroponic technology on the moon instead of your back shed!" he hollers at no one in particular.

The AEC workers who told me off are now watching this man from behind the glass. They look afraid and don't come out. Apparently oblivious to the scene unfolding around us, the Liberal volunteer continues talking to me.

"This is going to sound controversial," she says, "but people from the Middle East have lower IQs than Caucasians. And Caucasians are below Asians, and Asians are below the Jews."

I can't tell if she's trying to flatter me at this point. Regardless of what you may think of her, it's worth mentioning this volunteer was very nice to me, to the other volunteers, and to everyone of every race who came up to ask questions about the Liberal Party.

"Have you noticed that most film directors in the US are Jews?" she asks.

Two metres away, the ranting guy is trying to engage with anyone who will listen, including a man in a suit who I eventually identify as NSW state Liberal MP Geoff Lee. It seems like he's regretting his decision to help out today.

At this point, a kid of about 20 years old walks past, his fist raised high. "Free the children from detention!" He's not making eye contact with anyone, not pausing for his protest. It's a noisy if half-hearted protest. "Fuck the current government!" he shouts at nobody in particular.

The ranting man looks up. "Is that the new PM?"

Two seconds later, the kid has found himself in trouble. Up the road, a police officer stands in front of him, writing on a notepad. I run past the row of volunteers to check it out.

"What about freedom of speech?" the kid is asking. "You have freedom of speech and ideas," the kid is told. "You just can't use profanity."

There's a third man standing with the cop and the kid, but I can't tell what he's doing there. From what I can gather, he's a middle-aged conservative guy who has taken an interest in this conflict. The cop writes the kid a caution, and the kid turns to the third guy. "But free the children, right?"

"Well, that's your opinion," the man says.

I return to the volunteers. I look back at the lefty kid, the conservative man, and the cop, and the three of them now appear to be sharing a laugh together.

Across from me, the ranting man is still preaching to the volunteers, MP Lee, the electorate. "Vote for me!" he shouts. "Cigarettes would be $8 right away. It's a no-brainer!"

Nothing makes sense, but it's all very urgent and loud. In that moment I know for sure that I've found the beating heart of democracy in 2016.

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