G’day

I’ve always suspected those Getup folks must be doing something right when (akin to the ABC) they’re often under attack by the authorities.

It’s called “hitting a nerve” a phrase which in my experience clearly derives from non anaesthetic dental procedures.

I’m lukewarm  about on line petitions and appeals. Those TV advertisements that urge you to donate to save some unfortunate third world child, whose only original sin is to have been born where he/she has been, such as in a war torn country sitting on oil or mineral deposits. Charity always makes me thing of George Orwell’s diatribe against the Salvation Army (In ‘Down and out in London and Paris’) who expected him to pray and sing hymns in exchange for a sandwich. Ironically, I was told that my paternal grandfather, a lifelong self proclaimed atheist, had a Salvation Army band play at his funeral. I was also told that Jean Paul Sartre another lifelong atheist, on his death bed, asked for a priest to read him the last rites. Were they having a bob each way?

Away With Rum, The Song of the Salvation Army Music…..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88bU_iSGa7E

As for petitions and donations, I wonder to what extent these are an easy way to salve one’s conscience. Every now and then a petition is launched about something I feel strongly enough about, that I cave in, and for all it’s worth, sign up, whilst not having any illusions that by the click of a mouse I have made a significant contribution to the betterment of humanity.

One such is the Get up – Scullion and Abbott resign (from their Indigenous affairs roles) petition:

“Both the Indigenous Affairs Minister and the Special Envoy on Indigenous Affairs have completely disregarded the voices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities and need to resign.”

http://getup.to/Qe9oOiBlKcnGZUBYP

Many revolutions and coups fail because there is no Plan B. You get rid of the tyrant, the ignoramus, the mean spirited, the incompetent, the evil, and what do you do next?

This one is easy, I could think of countless people, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, better qualified and motivated to take over the roles from this pair of hypocrites.

A friend sent me this link  https://www.theatlantic.com/amp/article/528711/   It is an article in The Atlantic titled ‘Power Causes Brain Damage’

As someone who derives much solace and pleasure from irony and satire, I immediately assumed that we were dealing with such. Turns out it is a serious and instructive article which explains much about our leaders, not least about Abbott and Scullion.

From two separate researchers:

“….acted as if they had suffered a traumatic brain injury—becoming more impulsive, less risk-aware, and, crucially, less adept at seeing things from other people’s point of view….”

..If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego… Elvis, ‘Walk a mile in my shoes’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-NgDbK9N6g

“….under a transcranial-magnetic-stimulation machine, he found that power, in fact, impairs a specific neural process, “mirroring,” that may be a cornerstone of empathy…… “

I have always thought that one of the reasons remote Aboriginal Australia finds itself under sustained ethnocentric assimilationist attack is because the powerful can’t bear to look into the mirror that First Australians hold up to them.

Now I know why, the powerful have suffered brain damage. One could almost empathise with the poor bastards, it isn’t their fault they are so mean spirited….wiyarrpa! (A Warlpiri expression of empathy- a bit like the French ‘pauvre petit’ or Spanish ‘Pobrecito’)

Wiyappa (sic) Wanti Jalu – LAJAMANU TEENAGE BAND
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kpc1tlZlGg

The Warlpiri kinship system is non hierarchical. Everyone has rights and obligations. Those belonging to a particular sub-section have obligations to another sub-section, and have rights over yet another sub-section. There is no need for a Warlpiri person to have the system explained, for example on a circular diagram, they’ve simply grown up with it. Within family groups there are people with authority and respect (usually older men and women) but the overall system exerts checks and balances over individual authority and privilege.

When the local council was introduced with its secret universal ballot, we had middle aged men elected as Council President. Almost without exception these men never stood for re-election (“it’s someone else’s turn”) albeit some re-emerged as Council President after a period of self imposed ‘abstinence’. The system seems so designed as to minimize brain damage.

It is no coincidence that the Intervention introduced a push to encourage “young leaders” (by, for instance, holding workshops in leadership for young people). The Aboriginal Industry also increasingly insists on making Aborigines attend courses in ‘governance’ and obtain certificates in ‘Community Development.’ The authorities encourage ‘role models’. One only need look into the Federally supported “Generation One” initiative, to perceive what is happening. “Generation One” delegated all previous generations of Aborigines with their age old system to “Generation Zero”. Assimilation by stealth.

None of these initiatives come with a health warning- “Power can cause Brain Damage”

0:41 / 3:25

Bob Marley – Get Up, Stand Up – Live At The Rainbow London Theatre (6-2-1977)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKuUKHmTHPk

Stand up for your rights and obligations.

And now a bonus non-sequitur song (have no idea what the words say, but music ‘speaks’ for itself):

Brenda Fassie… Hara Lebitla…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fECbY5Acnxo

Toodleloo

Frank

PS- Whenever I have my heartstrings tugged at by those charity fund raising advertisements, sadly I’m all too conscious of the industry that money raising has become and wonder what portion of donations reaches the intended recipients. A notable exception was Medicins Sans Frontiers who after the so called Christmas Tsunami raised more money than they could effectively use in their work and offered donors a rebate (or if they so chose, to allow MSF to use the money elsewhere)

I once again caved in and signed MSF’s Nauru Petition.

MSF were told to leave Nauru by brain damaged powerful people.
https://www.change.org/p/i-support-msf-s-call-to-immediately-evacuate-asylum-seekers-refugees-from-nauru

Not a dog-whistle

An isolated, disaffected mad man killed a gentleman who came to his aid. The tragedy is that both are dead. A good man died. He was stabbed by a mad man. A mad man is also dead. He was shot by those who’s duty it is to protect us. And in a city that prides itself on civic virtue as the “worlds most liveable city”, we pause and think of what values we place in our society.  Fridays crime was disgraceful, because it went to the very core of our sense of self. It violated a sacred principle of trust and compassion. And the lingering question; “How could this be’? Is distorted by the cheapness of scapegoating, isolating and revenge.  This is after all, “Our Melbourne”. Where ex Lord Mayors are unable to own their drink filled philandering tendencies and the homeless become heroes rather than shadows for a moment, before they’re pushed back into the place where they belong.

And that’s where the mental people belong. Not in asylums, they’ve been sold off to developers. Not in hospitals, they’re full to overflowing. But to the community. To fester and allow the dark forces of any opportunistic ideology to take hold and consume them

Another incident of daily madness.  This madman, unlike the other isolated dissafected madman who drove his car through Burke street killing and maiming spoke in his madness of “Allah’. This makes him a terrorist. The man who killed and maimed with his car was acting under instructions from “God”.

These isolated, dissafected mad men were similar perhaps to the men who rape, kill and mutilate women. Except we’re told that their crimes are usually pre-meditated.  And derive for a history of sexual violence and deep seated personality disorders. One thing we do know, if you combine the word terrorism with murder, you have politicians. Like flies to the carcass, they cannot help themselves. And in the heat, the message, the distillation into cause and responsibility for all of us, is lost to oblivion.There are always those who seek to divide. To score points, and cheapen us all.

Great to see the Home Affairs Minister Peter Dutton, leader of the State opposition and the PM jump on board. In a word Tragedy becomes ” SHOW-TIME”!

Who would have thought that Rupert’s finest would help our PM and our Home Affairs Minister determine that Islamic Terrorism is Australia’s greatest threat? One person killed by a mentally disturbed black man born overseas represents a far greater threat to our way of life than the 69 women and 19 children killed in domestic violence incidents this year.  The logic here is clear.  Killing women and children is part of Australia’s way of life.  So the ongoing killing of them is actually supportive of this cultural practice.  Just as our jingoistic war-mongering leads to far greater deaths of civilians (usually women and children) than of soldiers.  Estimates put the ratio at something like ten civilian deaths for each soldier killed.  Thus we remember the soldier and forget the civilian.  Oh, could it be that systemic violence begets violence?  Never.  And there is no connection with Australia’s aim to become one of the top ten Armament Exporters. 

Those polliticians who led us all the way to the maw of Gallipoli and the Western front knew one thing.  The desire for revenge is good politics.

Remembrance Day, an opportunity for old mates to catch up and talk about maintaining values of decency and civilisation.

Things got off to a bad start. I missed the bus that had been arranged to pick us up outside pcbycp headquarters.  Our mission was to distribute and sell poppies to shoppers at the local shopping centre. There’s nothing about Chaddy that would make you ashamed to gather, though the security guards didn’t look to keen about it. I supose in hindsight, Cecil who lost his false teeth at Nui Dat, and Clarrie who had his leg amputated after an encounter with the ride on mower at Tarin Kowt looked a little dishevilled. But not dangerous. And nothing like AFRICAN CRIME GANGS if you know what I mean. 

‘A la rechercehe du temps perdu’, Statesmen gather to reflect upon Stormy Winters many years past.

To this day, Clarrie regrets his decision to “go over the top” and bother mowing the ridgeline, that separates the latrines from the laundry. But Clarrie ’s always been a stickler for tidyness, and the odd weed drove him to distracton. It’s the ANZAC spirit.  One way or another he felt that if he couldn’t have a go at the Taliban, he’d conquer the last ridge. 

On a smaller stage, little people gather.

After the mower capsized and took his leg off, we called it “Bloody Ridge”. Funny, it’s only a meter high, and about five metres at the base, so it’s more like a low, flat, mound more than a ridge. But we thought it was epithetic of the great sacrifice made at Vimy, Bloodseinde, Poizieres and Passchendaele. Still, when you’re in the field, a ride on mower, which  is just like any other back home in Australia, can be lethal. And you have to have both experience and expertise to ride them safely. That’s Clarrie’s deepest regret. He should’ve volunteered for the “Tactical ride-on mower training course” on offer at Puckapunyal. But he chose to attend “ the non innappropriate touching in close combat’ courses being conducted by the “Centre for Human Resource, Management Team Conflict Resolution Unit”, at Broadmeadows. In hindsight, he’s philospohical. He knows that there’s a low ridge-line in Afghanistan that’s “forever Australia”. And when we pushed him at the RSL the other night when he won the one-legged hopping race around the club carpark he said; ‘He’d do it all again for Australia’. 

Remembrance day is all about looking good, and expensively fashionable.

“That’s the spirit’!! We all said, and heartilly patted him on the back whilst we waited for his carer to pick him up in the disability scooter. 

Uninformed people might not understand the nobility of sacrifice.

You’d thiink then that the secuity guards, who mind you “ also serve”, wouldn’t mind a few old diggers seling poppies outside of Myer, David Jones, or as Clarrie was proud to say a “possie just shy of the lingerie shop”. Though he’s bung in one eye he always seeks the strategic advantage. Funny thing then, when the security guard came over and told us to leave. We said; “Hang on a minute mate, we’re selling poppies so that our mates can be remembered for their sacrifice and their forebears who nobly sacrificed themselves so that pollies can go on junkets under the eternal unquestioned God- head of Anzackery”!. But the guard, spoke on his walky talky thing, and before you know what, we were booted off the site. Ungreatful bastards! Turned out they were all Afghani’s. Must’ve come over on the 457 . One of them was a Somali. You’ve gotta wonder what our sacrifice was all about?

But as Cecil said; “that’s the irony of war”. And that’s why we remember the “war to end all wars”. 

The sacrifice, 

The futility.

The wasteage.

The aftermath.

The broken lives.

Those that were left behind. 

The blood and bone that contributes to make that part of France very good for agriculture.

All of this we were determined to remember.

The only problem is we forgot to get a permit. 

Just like war, bureaucracy triumphs over sacrifice every time.

And we forgot. 

On Remembrance day. 

Previous winners of the one legged hopping race, and the legless arm wrestlers at the local RSL.

Lest we forget.

Today’s poem comes from a little known volume “The Beautiful Poetry of Donald Trump” (Strictly unauthorised).  Created by Rob Sears.

You can do anything (1)

At the heart of our country is the emphatic belief that every person has unique and infinite value.(2)
(I just start kissing them) (1)
On average there are more than 300,000 instances of rape or other sexual assault that afflict our neighbours and loved ones every year (2)
(Its like a magnet) (1)
We all share the responsibility to reduce and ultimately end sexual violence. (2)
(I don’t even wait.) (1)
Recent research has demonstrated the effectiveness of changing social norms that accept or allow indifference to sexual violence. (2)
(You can do anything.) (1)
Our families, schools, and communities must encourage respect for women. (2)
(Grab them by the pussy) (1)
Together we can and must protect our loved ones, families, campuses, and communities from the devastating and pervasive effects of sexual assault.(2)
(You can do anything) (1)

(1) Access Hollywood tape, 2005

(2) Proclaiming National Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month, 31 March 2017

Dobre-outre tovaricci,

Many years ago Yuendumu used to have a Housing Association, this was at the height of the policy of Self Determination. YHA had three or four kardiya- a plumber, a bricklayer a carpenter and a tinker and a tailor and a candlestick maker. Each kardiya had two or three Warlpiri offsiders. None of these offsiders had certificates nor wore hi vis vests, but they could fix a tap or lay a brick and mix concrete. The Housing team made slow steady progress and had a lot of laughs whilst doing so. I believe that with the possible exception of the School, YHA was the first Yuendumu organization (that is what we called them- nowadays they have evolved into ‘agencies’ and even ‘service delivery agencies’ and ‘job providers’) to have Warlpiri workers entitled to long service leave.

One year during the annual school holidays, to overcome boredom, the activity of choice with some children was to vandalize the school. The Housing Association sprung into action. They secured all the classrooms and placed a person to guard the premises at night. When school resumed, YHA presented the Department of Education with a modest bill. D. of E. refused to pay on the grounds than no Purchase Order had been raised.

I won’t elaborate on what happened during the next school holidays. Suffice it to say I first read about what happened, years before, in a little book titled ‘El flautista de Hamelin’

So here then another flautista- Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson:

Thick as a Brick…. (and your wise men don’t know what it’s like to be…)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BV-ASc0qkrM

When the 2007 Northern Territory Emergency Response (‘The Intervention’) was foisted on an already debilitated stigmatized society (kick a man while he’s down), this included the proclamation of ‘Prescribed Areas’. The Yuendumu Land Trust area had such a prescribed area carved out of it. The Federal Government introduced a multi-billion dollar housing initiative, which required it to obtain long term leases over existing and proposed housing sites. In Yuendumu negotiations started with a $4M carrot ($2M for Traditional Owners, and $2M for ‘the Community’). The community was split, those wanting to take the money and those who considered land inalienable. When negotiations stalled, the bribe was replaced with a different tack. $18M had been set aside for demolishment or refurbishment of existing houses and a modest number of new houses. The expenditure was conditional on the community agreeing to long term leases “If we are not granted secure tenure we will not build any new houses nor will we carry out repairs and maintenance on existing houses” was the non-negotiable offer.

At this point Japangardi made a brilliant suggestion- “Why can’t the $18M be used to re-establish our own Housing Association?”

You all know what a lead balloon is.

My favourite episode of the ‘Yes Minister’ television series is the one dealing with the Hospital with no patients. The most efficient Hospital in all of Britain, soon to be awarded the Florence Nightingale Award as the most hygienic hospital in the Greater London area. Sir Humphrey’s apoplectic response to the suggestion of using the vacant hospital to accommodate refugees is priceless. Apoplectic wasn’t the response of the bureaucrat sent to Yuendumu to coerce us to accede to long term leases to Japangardi’s suggestion to re-establish a Yuendumu Housing Association. NT bureaucrats have honed stonewalling to an art form. Don’t ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.

Lynyrd Skynyrd – Don’t Ask Me No Questions – 4/27/1975 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EKbkArYyics

In Stephen Jay Gould’s book  ‘Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s Toes’ there is a chapter ‘Phyletic Size Decrease in Hershey Bars’ In it he concludes that in twenty years time there will be “…that ultimate wonder of wonders, the weightless bar, will be introduced in December 1998. It will cost forty-seven and a half cents” Using similar Darwinian Evolutionary thinking (Stephen Jay Gould considered himself primarily a Palaeontologist) I’ve come to a similar conclusion about remote Aboriginal communities . In twenty years time we may well witness that (not so wondrous) remote Aboriginal community without Aborigines. Dare I suggest it could be used to accommodate (climate change) refugees?

And now the latest from the “Close the Gap’ mob- from a news report:

“Special envoy on Indigenous affairs Tony Abbott has told the ABC he is open to the idea of allowing police officers into schools in remote communities as part of a push to improve attendance and engagement.” A truly intellectual giant is he the suppository of all wisdom. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oep_DPDy6xw

In the article TA claims he is being made very welcome as he tours remote schools pushing the withholding of welfare benefits from those whose children do not attend.

….you’ve got a lot of nerve to say you are my friend… (Bob Dylan’s Positively 4^th Street)

Johnny Rivers- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_1-SsnebFk

Why not go the full hog? Why not erect prisons on school yards?

…..The policeman said to me, son

They won’t build no schools anymore
All they’ll build will be prison, prison….

 Lucky Dube… Prisoner https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1bjgVGuSQo

Some years ago our granddaughter emerged from Yuendumu School proudly bearing a certificate “Best attendance”  From memory she reached 80% attendance beating all other students at the school.

Her mother had welfare entitlements withheld because her daughter failed to meet the minimum attendance requirements (90%?)

Maggie’s farm- Bob Dylan:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rl0C4Zkpv1M

…he hands you a nickel then he hands you a dime,
He asks you with a grin, if you’re having a good time…
Then he fines you every time you slam the door….

Doz-vitanya, 

Frank

Our pcbycp accredited fire plan auditors are on standby to assess your risk.

Dear reader, having a correct and accredited fire plan is a vexed issue. And though people may be busy clearing the back paddock of bracken and up north they’re clearing what’s left of the biosphere, there is never enough time to sit down and think about how adequate your fire plan should be. 

Local fire safety officers may be identified in your community by a red cap or white paper.

In wet and tropical areas, a fire plan may consist of a piece of muslin draped, and wetted over the larynx to ensure in the event of fire a moist voice box. This will augment communication, by allowing the wearer to shout and scream in a state of controlled hysteria. WE should caution that muslin is a light cotton material, and not an individual who questions, civilisation, anzackery and everything, (even a fire plan) as an affront to “Australian values”. 

A bush hat and Coalition Climate policy will protect the wearer from natural phenomena.

Because there are distinct regional differences, you’ll need to adapt to your local conditons. For example; In the “dead heart” of Australia, a fire plan, may just consist of isolating those fragments of vegetation that are not sand, rock or gravel. Or as is often the case in the Australian Capital, a vacuum. Fire will not work in a vacuum. Prepare an audit of things that most likely will burn. Objects should be identified with yellow marking dye or the approved CFA fire safety streamers, whch may be purchased at your local pharmacy. Nuns, parish priests, childcare workers, lobbyists, scout masters, ex gardening show hosts and Mormons will not need yellow marker or tape in this instance, as they’re certified non-flammable. 

What then for the average Victorian? Recent correspondence may assist. 

Anita from “Way out west” writes; “I live in the shadown of the Grampians, and  under the shadow of a different kind, the omnipresent fear that this summer  we’ll be engulfed in a pyroclastic holocaust of such magnitude, life and every living thing will be snuffed out and we’ll enter a new dark age. What should I do”?

Red wine and naked opportunism are proven fire retardants.

Well Anita, You needn’t worry. Lord Rupert of Murdoch decrees the next thousand years will be one of darkness.   All that shall prevail will be subdivisions, car yards and shopping to describe a civilisation that once thrived. But on a happier note there will be more opportunities for prison staff, paramilitary and Border Force operatives to ensure your continued Public Safety against fires and AFRICAN CRIME GANGS!

However, we appreciate your concern and have prepared these steps to ensure your fireplan is safe and efective. 

1  Purchase  the  Kevin Rudd Autobiograhy, Volume One. This will ensure that in the event of  fire, flood or interstellar impact your property will be safe. Ensure that it is placed on a lectern and facing the direction of the oncoming fire. 

2  Play on repeat “Tie me Kangaroo down sport”. This will sap the fire of energy

3  Erect  a cardboard, (on supply from your local IGA) cut-out of Cardinal Pell, “If there was a fire “,…. IT NEVER HAPPENNED!!

4  Pin coalition Carbon policy to your closest fence, The fire will receive “blowback”. 

5  Become an Adani shareholder, this entitles you to a percentage of the four hundred billion trillion gigalitres of water guaranteed to the mining giant for free. Piping to anywhere on your property, courtesy of the Australian taxpayer.

6  Establish a  “Protection Line” of Greens policy. This will equip you with a holier than thou subduction zoe that will convert the fires fury into dulled politically correct apathy.

7  An emoji, and an “alleged chortle/snigger” superimposed over  cut-out of Cordelia in King Lear. This will snuff the  reputation, heat and  integrity of he fire as a thing of substance.  Note: Be careful to avoid collateral damage. 

Sensible Fire Protection gear. Note headlamp to identify African crime Gangs, and IPA neck scarf, (made from real asbestos) to ward off lgbti incendiaries.

8  Adopt King Canute, (Coaliton policy on climate change) and command the fire “stay back” . If you say it enough you might believe, and the fire might be reassured also, that it might work. 

We have received dozens of other submissions, but advise that these suggestions have been proven. And would suggest in the event of fire you ring our pcbycp hotline  (03 13000 458973), and listen to some very tastefully selected music which will assuage the tendency to panic, and assure you don’t do aything rash like put your head out the window, sniff the air and employ the artifice of common sense.  Be afraid, insecure, and if you’ve still got a CFA, ensure your union membership is up to date and coutersigned D. Andrews. 

Non compliant CFA users will be FINED and IMPRISONED!

Anita from “way out west” consults her local Fire Safety and African Crime Gang deployment specialist.

For your own safety. 

Steve Ciobo. Representing the brains trust in the Coalition

What a good idea it is, and congratulations to Virgin, and particularly our forward  thinking Coalition government.  For backing the proposal that veterans be saluted upon getting on or off a plane. We need more militarism in our culture, and they deserve it. And a special thakyou for Steve Ciobo for suggesting that Qantas follow suit. You betcha!! If ever there was a war on, Brendan Nelson and Steve‘d be there over the top, in the first assault on the Maori’s, The Sudanese, the Boers, the Turks, the Germans, the Japanese, the Koreans, the Malaysians, the Indonesians, the Vietnamese, Iraqi’s, Afghani’s. To prove that we punch above our weight. Though no one gets a guernsey for saluting aboriginals. There never was a war with that lot, and besides they LOST!

Ex servicemen entitled to free flights, etc. etc..

Got a mate of mine, who was in the 14th field laundry. Once in 2014 he actually met an Afghani. He has never recovered. Though the event took place at Puckapunyal and the Afghani taxi driver was just dropping off an officer after a big night out in Seymour, you had to appreciate the shock my mate was in. For after all, we’ve been valiantly and courageusly gifting Afghani’s the annointment of civilisation for twenty years.  And we hear, not all of them are greatful. My mate is a sensitive type and is worried about his laundry getting into the wrong hands. They call that PTSD. There is a silver lining though. It makes him eligible for the next INVICTUS Games. 

A goose-step would be a nice way of honouring veterans at the airport.

I can see his point.  He’s deeply conflicted. And he reckons he knows people who actually served in Afghanistan, and may have shouldered a rifle. He says, they’re “Gods Soldiers”. That’s why he proudly displays an Aussie flag outside his Caravan. It’s unquestionable he reckons. If you carry a rifle for Australia you need recognition. Our Aussie men and women athletes get it when they row, poke, jump, power-walk for Australia. So why shouldn’t those who shoulder guns and put their lives on the line. But there has to be qualification. WE don’t want that treatment for ambos, fire fighters, surgeons of little kiddies who save their french poodles from drowning at Dreamworld. It should only go to those who wear camo gear, a slouch hat, and uphold traditional Aussie Values. 

And the same can be said for all the other in the military. The pen pushers the bum wipers, the attendants, the drivers the cooks, the bottle washers, the latrine diggers, for without them, the pointy end of Australian Foreign policy, would be BLUNTED!! 

So let’s salute them and for a bit of theatre, cos dressing up in uniform and wearring medals is pretty high theatre, can we do a lttle more than salute them?

Can we do a little march, as they walk off the plane?

Cecil reckons that the goose step is pretty fetching. It sort of stirs an emotional chord. 

 And swords raised  look pretty good. The flight attendants and baggage handlers could raise swords. 

Veteran of Truth Wars receives Order of the Bagpipe

And we also like the bagpipes. A lone bagpiper serenading the veteran off the plane would be priceless and the entire passenger filled aeroplane could watch in awe at the glorious sacrifice the veterans, some of whom  who may have even served overseas, have demonstrated. 

These ex-servicemen deserving of a salute and seat at the very front of the plane.

Though we’d have to be careful.   This would not be approriate for veterans disembarking from helicopters, cos veterans go funny with the sound of helicopters. What’s that quote we borrowed from the  Viet Cong? We love the sound of helicopters in the morning. 

And besides, by saluting we never ever have to think about why why we put them there in the first place. 

We at pcbycp are appalled at the latest cuts in the public galleries sector. 

Sacred. Another five hundred million to celebrate foreign policy disasters and the God-head of Anzackery!

And though we wring our hands in frustration there can be only one answer. Is it because the government is cynical about the arts? Does it point to an underlying cultural cringe? Does it point to the electoral gold of attaching your funding to the unquestionable shining sepulchure of Anzacdom and the eternal flame that burns brightly in homage to those who gave their lives so that politicians can indulge in appalling foreign policy?

Yes, we think to all of the above, But there has to be more, 

We know that politicians don’t get society. They get real estate.

So there has to be something about the types of buldings they admire, less than the institutions themselves… 

For example, have you ever thought  about the nations war memorial, ??

Apart from the flags, and bunting and all those pollies willing to have their faces embroidered by the star studded cloak of Anzacdom. 

Perhaps it’s something  in the building itself, it’s a spirit of Graeco-Roman, Moorish and Hollywood.  Sort of Romanesque late Byzantine with a bit of Busby Berkeley thrown in for good measure. And to our thinking that can only mean one thing. It’s real estate gold!

It’s not an industrial incinerator This is the National Gallery.

In Canberra that’s heritage, ! If you’ve got a house actually made before the 50’s it’s Ancient, Neolithic, Cultural and National. And that’s why all the other cultural institutions don’t rate  a mention. 

Look at em, They’re brutal, Take the ANG, Looks like an industrial incinerator. The Portrait Gallery, another block house to repel cultural non elites, the Museum, a Chrernobyl inspired dungeon, and the National Library, a block house.

Only one bulding projects the aura of futurism, fantasy and a sense of levity, that’s the National Science Museum dome, it looks like a flying saucer, but being in Canberra, It’ll NEVER fly! Like democracy, that’s just a illusion. 

From the makers of Forbidden Planet.

We have a an approach that will work for the other cultural institutions.  Make em look like military installations. Give em a dose of ANZACKERY! A lick of paint, some camoflague netting and “voila”, the ANG would rival the Zeppelinfield, and being Canberra there’s enough hot air to keep it flying… 

Suggested makeover for the National Museum.

The National Museum a couple of tanks on plinth, anti aircraft guns and searchlights, and the National Library, a phalanx of katyusha rocket launchers and heavy field artillery, to show that we’re serious about literature but have no time for intelligentisia, lgbti’s or  people of colour. And celebrate what we are, and our values as proudly mainstream, insular and posessed entirely of that one cultrual attainment we’re famous for.. The CRINGE!

We have enclosed some photographic suggestions for further reference, we hope someone out there will sensibly forward them to the powers that be. But being a coalition  goverment, power, its origin and source is a vexed issue. 

Recently Constructed AIS Aquatic Cente on Lake Burley Griffin

New Palace for Aussie Culture. Under Construction.

Saint Tone of Santamaria. Shining a light on dark people.

Do we laugh or do we weep? In one word, “Nauru is paradise”! We heartilly agree. In a word, “They’ve never had it so good”!  Tony Abbott, special envoy to aborigines, suggests police be an established part of indigenous education. 

And he’s quite right. And he has a slogan: “Coppers on Campus’!

waiting at school assembly

We need the coppers on campus. To ensue the little buggers do Monopoly. “What’s Monopoly’? you may say.  It’s get the two hundred, in this case it’s a two hundred fine, and your folks can’t pay, so it’s straight to Jail. In code the motive is simple.  Go to jail means you top yourself. That’s it. Tone’s not the only one in conservative poitics with a  “final solution”.  Could be petrol sniffing, a car accident or just a piece of rope. Two hundred will get you all you need. And the fine will ensure one way or another you’re cactus. 

Teach em Australian Values!!

Having the cops at school will create greater efficiencies.  The kids, “clients”,  little buggers can be capsicumed, incarcerated, measured, (metrics are very important), and shunted off to the slammer in record time. Why waste funds on an education? Still,  It’ll piss a lot of remote area teachers.  What with the ‘woop woop allowance’ (remote services), teaching in a third world type situation allowance, and a no one else is silly enought to bother learning abo languages allowance, the coppers will make a severe dint in pretending to provide education. That’s a huge cost benefit, and Tone, who’s boned up a bit on Abo’s and incarceration knows that when Augustus Robertson rounded em up and chucked em on an island they all died. That stopped the rivers of gold.  So we don’t want to go too far. Maybe having coppers on the beat in schools will stop em from topping themselves early.  So that we can at least pretend to be educating, whilst ticking the boxes and keeping another endangered species, (sinecured white bureaucrats ) in full employment. And besides Tone knows.  Like Malcolm, he’s a Rhodes scholar. 

And respect for royalty, the queen, and snotty-nosed chinless bastards.

Speaking on the full Tone shit-filled bottle of Nauru. 

They’re fucked.  But to Tones thinking, and drawing upon  the spiritual enlightenment of Saint Bob of Santamaria, being fucked is where you’ll be closer  to heaven. 

You see all them little ki∂dies that were fiddled up by priests, were bought closer to heaven.  By topping themselves they go there quick smart and saved a lot of queuing for penance and absolution. This way those kiddies  can follow in the footsteps of their parents and just knock emselves off. As Icarus said to Orpheus,” if the sun don’t kill you,  there’s always the cliff to chuck yourself off” 

Yup paradise, 

Tone should know, they’re acheing to die.  Tone loves coal.  It’ll kill us all and every living thing so that we may fast track it to heaven. 

That’s paradise, 

Cos dead people are pure,  

Meanwhile on a stage somewhere, 

Geoffrey Rush, is about to enter, (camera pans) and the stage hands giggle…. 

“Anyone for tennis”, Geoffrey says in a Shakespearian voice, 

We pissed ourselves laughin, 

All in good fun. 

Dear collector, its been only 86 years since the release of Boris Karloff’s  magnificent epic “The Mummy’.  Since then face-lift surgery has made signinficant steps in halting the insidious creep of time. Fascinatingly, in two days time the only surviving original poster of the epic goes up for sale at Sotheby’s. And they’re expecting in excess of 1 million dollars. 

Hang on, wait a minute. “One million dollars’, I hear you say. That seems an awful lot of money for just a movie poster. And indeed it is. But in this world of corporate kelptocracy it’s just a drop in the bucket for a Transurban executive, an Exxon corporate or just your common or average bank executive. And what a a perfect adornment it should make. A poster that was manufactured at the time for a mere twenty cents, (two shillings in the old currency) selling for over a million. What elan you would demonstrate by putting it in your loo. And how excited your guests would be knowing that staring down upon them with those melancholic lugubrious eyes, would be the eternal spirit of Boris. Boris Karloff, the impenetrable, the soft spoken master of the ghoulish grimace. 

Standing for preselection in the seat of Wentworth.

Spare a thought then for the artist. Karoly Grosz, who was probably paid a few hundred bucks for doing the ouvre, (that’s an art term for work) and cept for this one would just be a footnotes footnote in history. But we think, and we stand corrected, that this image is a presentiment, in a time of political flux. There is something unneringly familiar about this poster. 

Is that not Geoffrey Rush in one of his febrile incantations? And who is the damsel? Is she swooning to the power of a mis-directed emoji? Or is it the spirit of Ming the Merciless, returning from the grave to pronouce the Liberal party as beyond dead. Imprisoned in the dubious lobotomysing philosophy of Bob of the Santamaria. 

The man on the right is actually REAL!

Whatever the portentous contrivance, one thing is certain. Plastic surgery had progressed in leaps and bounds, and Boris would be shamed by the likes of Sam Newman and  Paul Hogan who’ve proven that you can halt the indisious creep of time by looking like an alien. An episcene apparition from another world and be ageless. Because as something approximating a wax work dummy, all trace of humanity, experience, character, has been erased. To become the oblivion of everything that money can buy and the vacuity of it all. 

Hoges. The plastic surgeons craft, a wonder to behold.

Speaking of vacuity, another state election is on. Both sides singing the chorus of boosterism from the developers songbook.  To increase the population so that we may all buy more stuff and fill our lives with useless trinkets. And some amongst us will get richer. And perhaps one amongst us to purchase a movie poster, from a bygone era. To watch mesmerised, and mummy-like the craft of a painter who speaks to us from the vortex of time. Whose echo still resonates within the sarcophogus of our collective souls. Another election? 

And the mummy says in an impromptu entry at the Geoffrey Rush libel case; “Dance for me Baby”.