The Heslop Government of NSW has spoken or maybe that pie-faced billionaire or pick another faceless consortium in yet another forgettable tax-haven, can anyone tell the difference anyway? The Rocks may have been saved once before, but today’s tradies now demolish to the blare of JJJ, ‘wealth creating’ their own investment properties brick by brick and have no inclination for green bans now. What a viciously keen culture of avarice dressed in a tattered lambskin of ‘development’  we have completely instilled in this town. And the ghost of Juanita Neilson glides over empty bars in Kings Cross and weeps at Barongaroo will soon have a new stop in her tour of loss. Sirius. I mean really? How could public housing tenants hold onto such views for so long? How could the same little people still be there after 200 years? How could anyone hope to see inner Sydney’s last strand of social history, of Beatie Bow and toil and drama remain alive? How could architecture, such aesthetic adventure, intellectually challenging and of brutal sophistication stand when the land is worth 1000 million bjillion tramillion dollars? I mean Sydney isn’t one for ‘interesting’. We are not Madrid. We are not Marseille. We are certainly not London. We are Vegas. We want shiny surfaces, endless noise, empty calories, commercial networks, prices on application, purchased and geographically entrenched social classes. And we are winning.