When no one could live in Lorne, we couldn’t give a toss,

The place is full of plutocrats, another paradise lost
When we couldn’t live in Byron, we were a little histrionic
There’s a problem with just being, just a little bit Byronic
But away from the sunny beaches, the interior’s bloody hot
Who’d wanna burn in summer, stuck to your little plot
But beachcombers, tree-changers, they’re all the bloody same
Now they’re kicking me dunny door down, bound for Castlemaine

(Traditional vagrant song C. 2017)

Dear reader it’s been long obvious that any delightful leafy or beauty spot is ruined by over-development. If it be desirable, it’ll be converted into something very undesirable. And if you loathe resorts, the “resort-ification” is almost complete. A paddock in Port Lincoln is paradise in contrast to this creeping homogenisation and pasteurisation of the soul. It’s called “progress’. We laughed when Lorne became too expensive for baristas. The irony was excruciating. And besides the death of Lorne, in our considered opinion can be dated either to the rebuilding of the Cumberland Hotel in the 80’s or the privatisation of the foreshore with the Erskine Resort. Either way it was a beach resort gone Chapel Street Sth Yarra, very shiny. And the aura of the 70’s cock rock, surfies, chicks and chiko roll eating blokes a thing of the past. Apparently people still go there, but they’re the same who enjoy Portsea, and the falls in Winter, They flock that way. They find comfort in numbers, sameness and being resolutely the same. It’s ‘Nice’. Though, not quite as “nice” as the one in France.

Lorne. So expensive. Can’t even get a lawn mower man to live there

Same thing happened in Daylesford. Now it’s too expensive. It suited us further north. Kept em at bay. We spurned the over indulgence of massaging, herbal remedies and absorption in self. We loathe that sort of thing further north. We like cold showers, porridge, and being beaten by Swedish masseurs before a long walk, with singing, and the odds bit of lederhosen, keeps us pure in sprit and deed.

Daylesford. The water is more expensive than gold!!

Now there’s that creeping susserus of change in Castlemaine. Lived there on and off for twenty years and the prices are going through the roof. And they reckon the same thing is happening, the forces of Air bnb is creating a vacuum. Sure to be kicked out of my rental home soon. Suffering from a newly diagnosed neurosis, “Transientis-forebodus”. The fear of being up-rooted’. As people get nuffink from the banks they’re long to short term rentals and the old, the addicted, the weak, the impecunious are being squeezed. And why not?

It’s time the poor moved to to Whycheproof, and Inglewood. Housing is cheaper in St Arnaud. Some suggest that Broken Hill is a good option. But like a fusion between Lorne and Byron, plenty of sand, and a bit of a tree change. That’s why the over-cashed retirees, (who happen to be the baby boomers) are heading north. It’s ‘Nice’, and as a consequence it’ll be soon DEAD.

Homeless dog with male companion.

And that’s the market at work. For poor people, Stuff em. Orbost is cheap. Shepparton and Seymour looking good. And on the rail. No jobs for barristas. Just plenty of work for barristers, solicitors and the aptly named “Justice System”.

Disappointment by Samih Mohsen, translated by Henry King

At the door to her room
In the motel looking over the sea
I stood
Thinking of how she laughed in the corridor
When she came back that afternoon, damp with sweat.

I remember the look she gave me
Hands that made her hair flash
So lissom
A violet I held
And a song I will sing.

She prised me open with two crooked fingers
She looked at me
At the door to her room the heart stammers
She bolted the door
I bolted shut my heart with a rusty padlock.

from A Bird is not a Stone, An anthology of contemporary Palestinian poetry.  Freight Books, Glasgow 2014

Today’s dispatch is  ‘Interpretation’.  Originally dispatched on 3 June  2016

Ngurrju-nya?

In 1994 IAD Press published ‘Aboriginal Languages in Education’

Nangala Baarda contributed a ten page article to this compendium titled: ‘The impact of the bilingual program at Yuendumu, 1974 to 1993’

Nangala didn’t shy away from mentioning some of the problems faced by the school in delivering education to Warlpiri children, but overall presented a very positive scenario, because it was. Under the sub-title ‘Benefits of the bilingual program’ there is this: “…The status of the Warlpiri language has improved greatly in the community, in the eyes of both white people and Warlpiri people. It is not ignored or put down by anyone. Lots of meetings are conducted in Warlpiri these days, with the decisions being related to the white people afterwards. And the language has gained in respect, so have the people. The bilingual program, together with the much less racist treatment of Aboriginal people, seems to be producing young people who are more sure of their identity and more satisfied with it…”

Back then meetings were well attended. A long period of not being listened to and gradually increasing control by what are effectively foreigners (non-Warlpiri people) has resulted in ‘meeting fatigue’ and mostly poor attendance at meetings. In recent times I’ve witnessed authority figures (politicians, bureaucrats, welfare officers, police etc.) speak to Warlpiri people in a patronising authoritative way. I’ve even seen groups of Warlpiri people being admonished and lambasted by such as the Minister for Indigenous Affairs, who should know better. Needless to say all of this ethnocentric lack of respect is delivered in English.

I recall Jampijimpa Robertson (who sadly is no longer with us) and Jakamarra Nelson acting as interpreters at meetings. It was then that the difference between translation and interpretation was driven home to me. I had learned enough Warlpiri to realize that the English words spoken by say a political candidate, didn’t match the Warlpiri words being rendered by Jakamarra or Jampijimpa. When every now and then I would grasp a snippet of Warlpiri meaning I’d find that it was identical to the English meaning.

By way of illustration of what I’m talking about, the Spanish expression ‘tomarle el pelo’ (taking one’s hair) is identical in meaning to the English ‘pulling one’s leg’.

I could only marvel at Jampijimpa and Jakamarra’s linguistic agility.

I had always admired those people who do simultaneous interpretation at the U.N. In 2011 I attended the IX International Rangeland Congress in Rosario (Argentina). Why I would bother to go, is another story. The papers were presented in English or Spanish so I got to put on a pair of headphones and listen to those Babel-fish people. Like the film sub-titles on television, the interpretation ranged from excellent pure genius to rather piss poor. It has made me wonder how many manmade disasters (colloquially known as fuck-ups) are the result of misinterpretations.

In the last Dispatch I was guilty of ambiguity. When I said that I would make an exception and judge Kieran Finnane’s Book ‘TROUBLE: on trial in Central Australia’ by its cover and then juxtaposed the ‘glass midden’ with …the ethnocentric assimilationist interventionists see only broken glass…. I left out that I thought the description of scattered broken glass as a ‘glass midden’ was very clever and evocative. As a result of this omission some would have misinterpreted and understood that I disapproved of the book. Quite the opposite, I think it is a must read for anyone interested in the complexity of Central Australian societies and the manmade disaster that is the NT justice system.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMuzFQTpjDE …..Trouble in mind- Lightnin’Hopkins.

So when a Dispatch written in English (a language in which I consider myself reasonably competent) for a predominantly English speaking audience is open to misinterpretation, it doesn’t take much imagination to realize what Warlpiri people are up against when they apply an entirely different weltanschauung (world view) to expressing themselves in English.

When the Intervention rolled into Yuendumu in 2007 on the coattails of a politically opportunist stigmatising propaganda barrage (our very own ‘Children Overboard’ and ‘Weapons of Mass Destruction’ scenario) a public meeting was called. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLbHihaXvyo  The entirely English language meeting consisted mainly of the community being lectured on a new tougher paradigm which would deal with everything which they alleged was wrong with our community. It was all a bit much for Jungarrayi Sims- he got up and forcefully told the occupation forces : “You should go after the perpetrators, the perpetrators are who you should go after”. We all knew exactly what Jungarrayi meant and agreed with him.

He’d left out…. Why don’t you all piss off, leave us alone and instead go after the alleged paedophile rings somewhere else, because you won’t find any here…. 

The authorities interpreted Jungarrayi’s call to “go after the perpetrators” as an endorsement of their policies.

…..Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXIBB0QjkQU …The boxer- Simon and Garfunkel

Ngaka-nanyarra nyanyi
Jungarrayi Baarda

The sun gonna  shine…..
Chippie Hill, Louis Armstrong – Trouble in Mind (1926)… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C42fstnucac

Aretha FRANKLIN – “Trouble In Mind [Live]” (1965)….. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEWCLL5eR2s

” Bert” the Magic Pudding. Amazing similarity to both George Christensen and Tony Abbott.

The Magic Pudding, is a ripper yarn. It hails from the olden days. It has colourful characters and involves a quest of sorts. Tony Abbott was right to use the Magic Pudding as an analogy. Firstly because it gave animation to an idea that’s almost dead, COAL. Very hard to ignite the same imagery with Bernie Briquette. Much easier to use the jocular imagery of the pudding that just keeps giving. And, this is where the reference works most aptly, the pudding, the fount, the source, the symbol of mythic eternality and sustenance, is a bloody minded, recalcitrant little bugger. Who ends his soliloquy; “I hope you get a belly-ache yer pudding eating lot’.

But Tony is off the mark to use the pudding to describe the Finkel Report. It’s just not fair. For a start, the Finkel Report is just a report, Bland, timid and unimaginative. This is where policy begins these days. The Pudding’s tale was Homeric. And the pudding characters, the penguin, the wombat, the koala, and the goanna, are all endangered. Most people have never seen a penguin. Bit like a free thinking, intelligent imaginative individual in the Coalition. So rare, they’re practically extinct. But as a children’s story, the imagery of infinite possibilities unfettered by the constraints of suburbanism and all it entails are exhilirating.

Tony Abbott, Did to renewables what Mark David Chapman did to John Lennon.

At the core of the Pudding, is the reality, the pudding thieves. Good stories work if they’re believable. Bit like the Finkel Report. And adopt a simple plot. Goodies versus Baddies. If you adopt any sort of carbon reduction scheme, its gonna harm coal. That’s the core of the plot. George Christensen, (the pudding thief) doesn’t want to pay for anything cos it’ll Hurt Coal. Coal is endangered. The Queensland governments (other pudding thieves) are quite correct in using taxpayers money to finance coal. It’s good for humanity. What is there not to love COAL? It’s warm… ‘Coal-ey’, and very tactile. Solar energy is not tactile and wind is for the fairies. Wave power just wont do, and battery storage wont work. Batteries always run flat. And they need to be replaced. Coal-fired power stations last for years and years, and if they’re publicly funded for ever, they can go on producing good reliable power for ever. But COAL aint a Magic Pudding.

.
That’s why We need more ‘Lord Bucket-heads’.

Lord Bucket head. Proving there’s life yet in English politics. All but dead in Australia

He’s much more a cultural icon than the Magic Pudding. He’s contemporary for a start and has a lineage going back all the way to the glory days of Margaret Thatcher. He’s not divisible like “Bert”, and stalwarts like Barnacle Bill and Uncle Wattle-berry. Those characters from Pudding were icons of stoicism, integrity and rounded personalities. That just doesn’t cut it with the digital age. The scenarios are too complex. That’s why Lord Bucket-Head, enigmatic, mysterious, a virtual Darth Vader of the funny side is perfect. He’s the perfect vehicle to encapsulate the absolute emptiness of contemporary politics. Which makes us think, Tony Abbott, his policies on coal, his stymieing of the renewables industry for the past decade surely is the ‘Lord Bucket-head’ of Australian politics. And the best thing is with his three word slogans, he doesn’t even need to wear the bucket.

There’s economy in that.

Peter Dutton, Wants to ensure that foreigners who wish to come here speak grouse English.

We at pcbycp would like to offer some advice to the current debate on the Citizenship Bill. We don’t think it goes far enough.

Cultural icon supports good educashion and sport.

For a start we don’t like the proposed five years probation period. We agree that one year is way way too short to discover people’s wicked tendencies. We’ve noticed at pcbycp that some people have un-Australian thoughts after decades. And in one case a family we know, (we have alerted authorities) has been involved in anti social tendencies for almost a century. Pacifists, pinko’s and trouble makers. And the worst thing is, they don’t even follow sport. If you asked them what the first eleven was? they’d look bleary eyed, and say words to the effect of; ‘all the others penultimate to the last disciple’. They’re that disconnected to what makes Australia Great.

And you can’t deport them either. Peter Dutton wants to set a cutoff point for migrants to make it easier to send em back, and he also wants to make the Minister’s decision final. So even if a poor benighted refugee gets through all the legal hurdles he can still get kicked out on the Minister’s whim. A good thing too.

In the olden days quite a few people came to this country who were ILLITERATE! Bad news for Call centres and Bum wipers in aged care facilities.

And then the Minister reckons, (quite sensibly we should add) that we need an English test. WE cant stand free loading, illegal boat people, or any would be supposed humanitarian migrant coming here without a decent grasp of the Queen’s English. All these terrorists, are poor spellers, and it’s reasonable to assume that other poor bastards aren’t all that flash on the finer points of English expression. It makes em anti social. And before you know they’re in a ghetto wanting to blow things up. How then fer chrissakes can they ever get a job as a call centre operator, or a bum wiper in one of our special care facilities? You’ve gotta have basic English for that. And forget about a skilled higher level job like working as the attendant at Macca’s or Kentucky Fried, You’ve gotta be qualified for that!

And though our forebears, whether they came from an Irish bog, a lowland slum, or one of the less salubrious parts of Eastcheap couldn’t read, write or even spell their own fucking name, we’ve got a perfect right to stop other ill educated bastards from coming here. Why? Cos we’ve gotta be even handed. We would’ve had a ‘look funny” test but it’d be discriminatory. This way we get to stream the migrants and ensure that only the most literate can find a job here. But we don’t want em too clever. Clever migrants end up being trouble-makers.

Tony Abbott. Ten pound pom made good in English Expression and Oratory.  Invented the three word slogan.

That’s how we keep Australian pure from the taint of TROUBLEMAKER. They may not look like Chesty Bond, but at least they’ll be able to talk, read and write proper English. And with a bit of luck they’ll know what Bradman’s batting average was, and the names of all members of the First Eleven.

Which is more than we can say for our goofy mate. He’s a sixth generation Australian, and he knows fuck all! WE can do better than six pound poms either. Just ask Tony Abbott.

We’d like to make a formal complaint to the Queens Birthday Committee

Robert Doyle. Justifiably proud, receives gong for “Unstinting service to Developers and big- End of town’.

We were not on the honours list. AGAIN!

This is not fair. You’d be interested to know that we have made significant donations to both the major parties. We even went as far as to attend the book launches of Bob Carr and Christopher Pyne just to demonstrate our bi-partisanship. They’re both great leaders. And we’ve stayed away as far as we possibly can from malcontents like Dick Smith. It’s his negative attitude of doing publicly spirited and altruistic things with no need for recognition that threatens to bring the whole system down.

Dick Smith. Inventor, entrepreneur, business-man and visionary. Refused Order of Australia. Troublemaker!

And finally, (this is the greatest insult), WE have consistently and tirelessly advocated a policy of “NO CHANGE”. To both the political and social politic. As a consequence we have allowed sinecurists, and bureaucrats across this nation to prosper. Politicians have thanked us anonymously, but profusely for keeping a lid on any attempts to change the iniquitous negative gearing investment property scheme. We’ve consistently stated: “what is good for the status quo is good for us”. We are also terribly worried about climate change, inequality and all the other indices of social depletion. And though we’ve huffed and puffed, and quite like endangered species, (cos they’re cute), we’ve advocated a steadfast policy of NO CHANGE. We don’t like change, And as a consequence of our stoicism and leadership we expected our nomination to go smoothly. It is with some bitterness that again, we were not listed. Not even mentioned. And Cecil, who has worked tirelessly to ensure that previous AO recipients are lauded for just doing their job, is incensed that he, never received the letter in the mail and no-one rang to check his bona fides.

Andrew Lloyd Webber, Got a gong from Her Majesty for writing the world’s worst opera EVER!!

In Cecil’s own words;

Lynton Crosby. Got a knighthood for consistently negative election campaigns and destroying what was left of British society.

‘We’ve made damn sure that everyone’s seen me at the latest MTC opening nights. I support the Australian Opera, and i’ll let you now I have both friends in the MCC and the Australia Labor Party. I am purely bi-partisan, and just the other day I helped a little Somali fellow with a start up by giving him words of encouragement. I’ve worked steadfastly on my charitable trust, and sometimes I even spend some of my own money on getting to the fundraisers at the Opera, the Recital Centre, the NGV and the Cathy Freeman Foundation. I’m expecting to be nominated to the board of the ABC, and I’ll have you know I’ve made a donation from my very own superannuation fund to the State Library so that they could add a “Thinking and Leadership Wing’ to their Elizabeth Murdoch library. I am incensed and feel let down by the system, I mean we give to the system so that it can support us.

And besides even by my own thinking I’m incredibly successful”!

Cecil thinks that bribery and corruption is bringing the system down and suspects, ( uncharitably we think) that those who dish out the awards are a coterie of smug, holier than though, status-quo enforcing sinecurists).

Doris Flosset. Recipient of A.O, for fundraising at the Whycheproof Football and Netball Club auxiliary. Not even known by important people!. Not Fair!

Cecil opines; ‘I mean I don’t want to demean the system, but I’ve got serious clout, and sometimes I even do things for people who are completely unimportant to me. It’s just not fair that some old lady who runs a cake stall gets a gong, when I a heavy lifter, go unrewarded’.

WE can only agree, On this count something HAS to CHANGE!

The May-bot in action. Devoid of imagination and other ” human weaknesses” proclaims empty slogans to an auto cue.

There’s an earthquake across the western world. It started in the UK. First they had Brexit, and now Therese May has shot herself in the foot by calling an early election. An important election held just after the other one, and then the one before that. As she rarely turned up to anything approximating to a public debate it could hardly be said she shot herself in the mouth. The fact is that the young, the old, and even some of the middle of the road have had enough of being screwed. They don’t think that hideously expensive university fees and gouging old people is such a good idea. It could have something to do with the yawning abyss between the ‘haves and the have-nots’. Or it just could be in spite of everything Rupert’s, cheerleaders in the Sun and Daily Mirror proclaim; ‘you can’t fool all of the people all of the time’. And for the average person, they’ve had enough. The high tide of the neo con movement?. Perhaps? We’re waiting on Vladimir’s determination on this and he says he’ll get back to us as soon as he’s finished with Donald on how to restructure the FBI.

Australia’s very own May-Bot. More empty slogans.

A funny result from the UK election, the balance of power has gone to a party the (DUP) that is more nutty than One Nation. Excuse us, we’ll say that again, “More nutty than One Nation’. They don’t like renewables, and though the English channel is chock a block with wind turbines and the country has gone renewable crazy (without the confected outrage of a S.A power crisis), most intelligent people see it, (as all emergent) technologies are a sign of the future. And this time round, well worth following. And the Labour party seems to have rediscovered ideology. And there’s a thirst for those about to be bludgeoned again, for CHANGE! So the Poms, broken, belittled and ‘Brexited’ may find in all the gloom a reason for cautious optimism. And Jeremy Corbyn rusted-on old lefty, (RUPERT hates him so he must be good) actually stands for something other than banks, big business and rent seeking corporations. It’s truly refreshing. The other day he even talked about free tertiary education as being worthwhile, Who would have thought?

Not so in Australia.

May-bot 3. The Roberts-Bot. A refinement on the previously mentioned. Repeats one idea over and over. Shown here correctly demonstrating the relative proportion of science and imagination in national affairs.

Its almost ten years ago when Kevin Rudd, possibly the greatest Prime Minister Australia has ever had EVER, (cos he told us so) claimed that climate change was the single most important issue ever in the history of this country. And he was quite right, It’s really big, and a sort of paradigm shifter, (more impressive than smashed avocado). Then he got the boot, and Julia Gillard, the best ever Australian female PM lost her nerve, and we got Tony Abbott, our own version of Donald Trump. Since then, electricity bills have skyrocketed and everything to do with manufacturing has closed down. And even now, with utility bills going to stratospheric heights, the thirst for change is just not here. The Finkel Report offers a very soft transition to a non carbon based culture, and the politicians, and rent seekers are in meltdown. And the public, quieter than a grave, which tells you something about optimism in THIS country. In order to have optimism you have to THINK.

Looks like the Finkel’s proposal will have to go to the cross bench for approval. And who’s on the cross bench? Malcolm Roberts. He reckons Global warming through CO2 is a hoax. Fake news.
And from the Australian Labor Party? In order to have a social conscience you need to FEEL. And THINK all at the same time. And that’s never gonna happen. Bit like negative gearing. When you’re onto a good thing why change it. Finkel reckons this is the most important decision for the next century. In Australia, that’s code for “DOOMED”

And that’s a very basic principle of Australian politics since the 80’s. Life’s comfortable for those on top. Why change it?

Lord Rupert. Controller of the May-bots.

The post was first listed in November 2013

A Description of the Morning
BY JONATHAN SWIFT

Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, show’d the ruddy morn’s approach.
Now Betty from her master’s bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her own.
The slip-shod ‘prentice from his master’s door
Had par’d the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirl’d her mop with dext’rous airs,
Prepar’d to scrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel-edge, where wheels had worn the place.
The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep;
Till drown’d in shriller notes of “chimney-sweep.”
Duns at his lordship’s gate began to meet;
And brickdust Moll had scream’d through half a street.
The turnkey now his flock returning sees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees.
The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands;
And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.

Our  Poetry Editor, Ira Maine, comments thus:
Jonathon Swift, Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, famous pisser-offer of Lords and Ladies, Kings and Queens to the point where preferment was regularly denied him.  One of the shining lights, the bright jewels of English Literature.  Swift was born in Dublin, went to school with Congreve, was the lifelong friend of John Gay and and Alexander Pope, and who famously proposed , considering how many children were found either abandoned or dead every day in 18th century streets, that they be gathered up and butchered for food.  This satire was an attempt by Swift to bring this disgraceful state of affairs to public attention.

The title of this piece?.  ‘A Modest Proposal’.

If it’s not on your shelves already, seek it out and settle down, a good glass of claret by your side, but remember; this is a slower paced, 18th century English, a prose intended to be relished  by people with enough time to savour it.  Do not expect to read this quickly.  This is  an 18th century jewel.  It will not reward haste. 

Now, to the matter in hand; How was the early morning in 18th century London or Dublin?

First, the rattle on cobbled streets of a ‘Hackney-Coach’ heralds the ‘..Ruddy Morn’s Approach…’

Then, as we’ve all experienced, the half asleep and headlong dash from one bed to another before some Nosey-Parker notices, (or, God help us, a spouse!)

Whilst this flurry proceeds another ‘…slipshod ‘prentice…’ has cleared the accumulated rubbish from ‘…his Master’s Dore…’ and then lazily goes about his tidying duties, sprinkling the floor (with water, sawdust, rushes, or herbs?)

Moll prepares to scrub her entry (I regularly have my entry scrubbed and always feel the benefit afterwards)

The ‘…Kennel Edge..’ is the drain at the side (or edge) of the road.

Kennel comes from the Old French or Middle English  canel  meaning  channel and is where we get our modern  ‘canal’ from.. TV channels in French are described as  “Canal A B or C’ etc.

Kennel on the other hand, as in dog kennel, has more in common with the Latin word ‘canis’  meaning dog, but I digress.

The morning is becoming brighter, the streets noisier

‘…The Smallcoal-Man…’ and the ‘Chimney-sweep, add their cries to the general din.  The Sweep’s cry was’…shriller..’ because only children could get into the narrow chimney spaces. 

 ‘Smallcoal’ is literally small bits of coal, like coarse gravel.

‘…Duns at his Lordship’s Gate began to meet.  This is ominous.  ‘Duns’ are debt collectors. All is not well at the Great House.

‘Brickdust Moll’*. The lady was ‘screaming…’ her wares.  Not sure on this one, perhaps selling brickdust as an abrasive cleaner?  PUBLISHER”S NOTE more of Brickdust Moll has come to light.  All that we have will be revealed this week – look for it.

And now for something absolutely unfamiliar.  Can this possibly be true?

‘…The Turn-key [jailer] now his Flock returning sees…’ who apparently have been let out  ‘…to steal for Fees…’

In Swift’s time, the incarcerated were required to pay for their food and lodgings.  Failure to meet these obligations could mean you might remain indefinitely locked up.  It seems almost incomprehensible to us that prisoners would be released like this and encouraged to steal to pay off their ‘Fees’.  The very idea that they would come back at all seems unimaginable.

‘…the watchful Bayliffs take their silent stand;..’

To all intents and purposes,this refers to cops, either in private or public employment, whose job it is to guard particular premises, or particular persons against thieves and robbers.  A type of security guard rather than a police officer.  There was no national police force then, not in the modern sense of the term..

And the morning has now advanced sufficiently for school children to be abroad, and dragging their feet on the way to class..

Here’s history in a nutshell, a detailed description of London waking up and going about it’s early morning business, in the first years of the 18th century.  Worth a guinea a box!

I hope my  rambling additions did not make the journey too tedious.

Today’s dispatch is  ‘Glass’.  Originally dispatched on 30 May  2016

Lets raise our glasses to the survivors of ethnocide,

On several occasions I have quoted Martin Flanagan from an article he wrote on his Sports Weekend visit to Yuendumu in 1987:

To visit Yuendumu is to have the glass tower of your preconceptions shattered into countless brilliant fragments….

I never tire of rolling those words in my mouth.

A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye;
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G0MtBLtLrQ

-Teach Me, My God and King (Sandys) · Cardiff Festival Choir & Owain Arwel Hughes

As my mother used to say:

Ik ben niet protestant, ik ben niet katoliek,
Maar toch ga ik naar de kerk voor de mooie muziek!

(I’m not Protestant, I’m not Catholic, but still I go to church for the beautiful music- In Dutch it rhymes)

When the Nickel Boom took us to Leonora/Laverton, we came across big piles of mostly broken glass. Included were old Pickaxe beer bottles, these I was told were all different in that they had been made by a process that included hand rolling and branding.

Also occasionally you’d find purple tomato sauce bottles.

Another occasion took me to the Bancannia Trough north of Broken Hill where the Planet Oil Company was drilling a couple of structures delineated by seismic surveys and which had been interpreted as being possible ancient Devonian reefs. They turned out to be ancient volcanic structures. We had occasion to call into the Silverton Hotel, now famous for its appearance in countless movies including Mad Max. On the shelves was a collection of old bottles including rare purple ones. Upon remarking on these, the barmaid regaled us with an explanation of the purple colour…. Small quantities of manganese dioxide in the glass would combine over time with potassium and oxidize to purple potassium permanganate (condis crystals) under ultraviolet light. So there was I, a young geology University graduate, not devoid of some tickets on myself, getting a chemistry lesson from a barmaid in a remote pub. Goes to show, be wary of preconceptions, never judge a book by its cover…

Bo Diddley – You Can’t Judge A Book By The Cover
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lch0o4wwGyw

Some travellers pass through Yuendumu, who ask intelligent questions. These remote communities have been subjected to so much politically opportunistic propaganda, so much stereotyping and stigmatization, that I think it my duty to shatter their glass towers of preconceptions, and offer a few brilliant fragments.

Recently I had occasion to carry out this duty and simultaneously practice my mother tongue. The Dutch tourist, in a subsequent email exchange pointed out that he disagreed with a certain premise I’d made about Warlpiri life. We all have a right to be wrong.

Joss Stone-Right to be wrong-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcpEte4plbw

But…I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible that you may be mistaken  Oliver Cromwell 1650… Yes, I was mistaken.

(the ethnocentric assimilationist interventionists by contrast almost never admit they’re mistaken).

Al deze gesprekken hebben toch wel een verdieping en nuancering gegeven van het eerste wat sombere beeld dat je als buitenstaander snel krijgt van de Aboriginal gemeenschap, wrote my new Dutch friend (these conversations have deepened and nuanced the rather sombre first impression into Aboriginal society you get as an outsider)

Kieran Finnane’s book ‘TROUBLE: on trial in Central Australia’, has just been launched.
http://www.alicespringsnews.com.au/2016/05/23/writing-the-stories-of-trouble/

The front cover photograph by Mike Gillam is titled ‘Glass Midden”. Just like the glass middens we came across in Western Australia those decades ago. Perhaps I will make an exception and judge this book by its cover.

I’m yet to read the book, but reading Kieran’s article in which she writes about writing the book, I definitely intend to:

My goal has not been to add some other level of judgment to the adjudication of cases but rather, by reporting on them with attention to detail and context, to offer a more nuanced account than is generally available… There it is again, that word: nuanced.

To visit Yuendumu is to have the glass tower of your preconceptions shattered into countless brilliant fragments….

Alas …the ethnocentric assimilationist interventionists see only broken glass….

They wouldn’t recognise ‘nuance’ if it stared them in the face.

…and I’ve got so little left to loose,
That it feels just like I’m walking on broken glass.
-Annie Lennox: Walking on Broken Glass
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkU2dx_wJGw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbUqcleXvug

Proost,
Frenk

Dr Chau Chak. Allegedly pouring trillions into the Australian political system. WE want to see the proof!

Dear reader we’d like to take this opportunity to impress upon our readers how seriously we take the culture of donations to our political parties. In light of the recent Four Corners programme it was alleged corruption of the Australian political system by huge donations posed a serious threat to Australian democracy. Four Corners alleged that there was a conflict of interest and something very rotten to the core in regards to vast sums of money being spent by very shady individuals connected to the Chinese political elite. They even went so far to assert that a well connected Chinese business-woman had managed to infiltrate ASIO at the highest level through a relationship with a former top security adviser. To get the ‘inside-gen’, (spy speak) on what our politicians and security organisations were thinking. Subsequently she was jailed in the U.S for bribing a United Nations official. Which seems a bit harsh, as all he wanted to do was say nice things for a small sum, (say $200,000) about the Chinese Government.

We’d like to remind our readers just how important, (whether these accusations are baseless or not) the Chinese Government’s relationship is to Australian political interests and business. Without their cash, the political system of this country would collapse. That would be a disaster.

Andrew Robb, signing the Free Trade deal with a former politician. Allegedly on 800 k per annum for doing bugger all. Show us the Proof!

The program alleged that Mr Robb, former Trade Minister and front bencher on the very day of leaving politics, (after negotiating the free trade deal with China) got a very cushy job, paying 800 k per annum. The programme suggested that this inducement may have clouded his objective political and economic judgement. What rot!

He works better at 800 K. And from what we’ve been told, he works bloody hard to bring home the bacon. To suggest that our politicians could be influenced, bribed, coerced, in their political judgement just for money is an insult. It strikes to the very core of our belief in the integrity of our political class as being above corruption.
Our politicians, (no one could deny this) are beyond reproach. They are made of the finest mettle. We used to make steel, but you’ll have to take our word for it. The finest Chinese Metal.

Clear sign of Chinese Comminist party at work undermining political systems in the west. A spelling error even the yanks could not contrive.

Just the other day we were in a discussion with Mr Obeid, (who is a very nice man), and we asked him if there was any stench of corruption? He emphatically, (laughing we might add) said “No”. Then we asked the very intelligent, astute, urbane, (his autobiography emphatically says so) ex premier and foreign Minister, Bob Carr, who also is on an enormous salary paid for by a business man who just likes to donate vast sums of money. He scoffed at our suggestion that money bought favour and influence. He did say, though; ‘the Chinese government is very happy to help our political parties as it establishes the great principle of democracy’. The further we went we found that amongst all the political class they were only too happy to take vast sums of money, some if it as gifts, just to help with the process of building a vibrant society.

Doc Evatt. Still coming to terms with depth of Russian Intervention in the Australian Political System.

We can only agree at pcbycp, that any change to the current political donation system would be a disaster. For a start, really poor people, (even those who don’t own houses) might have a say in how things are done. That could question the very serious priorities the Federal Government and its adjunct the Chinese Communist Party have in just running things. And if you don’t believe this, go find out for yourself. You’ll have to dial international, because latest information is that ASIO headquarters have moved to Beijing. In the interests of efficiencies and as a consequence of the Free Trade deal. If they can’t give you a sensible answer, ask Mr Robb. He might be able to do you a deal whilst he’s at it.

Be patient. Centrelink operates the same call centre. And it’s moved.

To Beijing.