The Ants at the Olympics by Richard Digance

At last year’s Jungle Olympics,
The Ants were completely outclassed.
In fact, from an entry of sixty-two teams, The
Ants came their usual last.

They didn’t win one single medal. Not
that that’s a surprise.
The reason was not lack of trying, But
more their unfortunate size.

While the cheetahs won most of the sprinting
And the hippos won putting the shot,
The Ants tried sprinting but couldn’t, And tried
to put but could not.

It was sad for the Ants ’cause they’re sloggers. They
turn out for every event.
With their shorts and their bright orange tee-shirts,
Their athletes are proud they are sent.

They came last at the high jump and hurdles,
Which they say they’d have won, but they fell.
They came last in the four hundred meters And
last in the swimming as well.

They came last in the long-distance running,
Though they say they might have come first. And
they might if the other sixty-one teams Hadn’t put
in a finishing burst.

But each year they turn up regardless.
They’re popular in the parade.
The other teams whistle and cheer them,
Aware of the journey they’ve made.

For the Jungle Olympics in August,
They have to set off New Year’s Day. They
didn’t arrive the year before last. They set off
but went the wrong way.

So long as they try there’s a reason. After
all, it’s only a sport.
They’ll be back next year to bring up the rear, And
that’s an encouraging thought.

¿Hola que tal, compañeros?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gtj3ayme1Io

To set the scene I’d like you to listen to Kimberley musician Patrick Davies’ ‘Bought & Sold’.
Here are the lyrics:
Chorus:

No I don’t have enough time, in my day,
to be messed around, or led astray,
a drunk out on the street, I would rather be,
at least I wouldn’t have all the pain and misery. 

Seems like more and more people, bought and sold,
the bucket of dreams, that’s just full of holes,
and there’s so many people walkin’ ’round without their soul,
and as for a conscience, all you find is a great big hole,
And they buy up all of your wishes on all of the stars,
the sun and the moon, Jupiter and Mars,
they buy everything, that their greedy eyes can see.
There’ll be a knock on the door, and they’ll be trying to buy you and me!

Chorus

Yes the other night, on the river sand,
I was in a conversation, with an ‘ole black man,
and here is a question, that he put to me,
My boy, how come all my land’s been stole’, withouta askin’ me?

Chorus

In 1971 we did that once in a lifetime trip. We drove from Calgary across Canada and the Northern U.S.A. down to New Orleans and all the way down to Panama City, whence we caught MV Tahitien that took us to Sydney via several French Pacific colonies. It was her last trip (she was subsequently sold and refitted as a cruise ship under another name).

We travelled third class. When the ship anchored off the Marquesas Islands, a large number of ‘natives’ came on board. That was when we became aware of a fourth class (restricted to non-Europeans). The fourth class passengers were headed to Papeete where the South Pacific Games were to be held. That the fourth class consisted of the third class deck and lacked bedding didn’t bother the Marquesans. They sang and danced continuously until Tahiti was reached. According to Wikipedia MV Tahitien travelled at 17 knots/hr thus the 1400Km distance would have been covered in 45 hours. We in la troisieme classe didn’t sleep either, it is all a bit of a blur made blurrier by the plentiful table wine. We shared our table with several of those rare individuals, French teetotallers. All the more for us! The first and second class passengers missed out on the blur, there being no access to the silver tails and vice versa.

On the way to Panama we visited a museum in Managua. A rather modest and underfunded establishment in the Somoza family’s Nicaragua. Dictators tend to prefer to squirrel their fortunes away into Swiss Bank accounts or Cayman Islands based investments, rather than spend it on Museums.

As we walked in, the sole occupant was an old lady (probably no older than what I am now, but at the time she seemed very old) leaning on a walking stick. She was in charge of the Museum that she told us her father had established. She bemoaned the fact that the Government wasn’t forthcoming with the funding needed, inter alia, to prevent national archaeological treasures from being smuggled out of the country to be sold to foreigners. We were deep in conversation with the old dignified and knowledgeable lady, when we were interrupted by a raucous noise similar to that made by a screeching descending flock of kirli-kirlilpa (pink galahs). The old lady immediately recognised the visitors, their photo had been on the front page of the newspaper. They weren’t galahs, they were members of the Florida State Horticultural Society on a field trip. They were staying at the Managua Hilton. They were very chuffed by having been recognised. They were loudly exploring the museum when one of the horticultural gentlemen loudly posed the question to another horticulturalist “WONDER IF YOU CAN BUY ANY OF THIS STUFF?” (they buy everything, that their greedy eyes can see.) 

A year ago the Northern Territory Government sold the insurance assets of the Territory Insurance Office for $236M to the German based Allianz Group.

A month ago the same NT Government announced the granting of a 99-year lease on the Port of Darwin to a Chinese company. The deal is “worth” $506M.

Yuendumu Police Station cost $7.6M

Wadeye Police Station will cost $24M

Arlparra (Utopia) Police Station $7M

The NT’s new Super Prison- is estimated will cost $2B over the next 30 years.

This all is great news for the NT’s Indigenous population, these Police Complexes aim at (and I quote):

“Working in partnership with the community to ensure a safe and resilient Northern Territory”

As for the NT’s new Super Prison- Aborigines stand a far greater chance of being able to enjoy its hospitality, than us kardiya.

No I don’t have enough time, in my day,
to be messed around, or led astray,
a drunk out on the street, I would rather be,
at least I wouldn’t have all the pain and misery.

As for selling, you can’t get past the myth that Robert Johnson’s ability to play guitar was due to him having sold his soul to the Devil (at the Crossroads)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yd60nI4sa9A

and there’s so many people walkin’ ’round without their soul,
and as for a conscience, all you find is a great big hole,

And a final flourish from Patrick Davies.
‘Rocky old road’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFAdylvx34c

…no you can’t take all you are given,
oft times it means selling your soul… 

Hasta la proxima vez,

Franklin

‘From Little things, big things grow’, (Paul Kelly, songwriter) Any chance of a new historical perspective on the Essendon doping scandal?

Dear reader, it would be crass to suggest that a recent flood of private donations to the very prestigious and august Melbourne University, (to be soon listed on the Stock Exchange) has anything to do with self interest. Nor would it be fair to suggest that such generous donations are motivated by anytime other than  altruism and public virtue. But clearly the new thoroughly modern Melbourne is thoroughly corporate. And it would be snide, and uncharitable to suggest that with such corporate generosity, the sadly depleted history and english departments, ( now a shadow of their former selves) would NOT be doing fascinating groundbreaking research into contemporary and vexed issues related to aboriginal australians, politics, and left-leaning interpretations of contemporary Australian society. Because that would be uncharitable. As benefactor, (and corporate leader) Paul Little’s spouse described, ‘we need to know more about why Hitler invaded Stalingrad, and what happened with the 300 at Thermopylae’. And I’d like to know that also. But what I don’t want, (and the public are clearly not interested), are an analysis of the events of our recent history; the shift to the far right in  Australian politics, human rights, land deals for mates, anzackery, and the seepage of public funds and assets into the pockets of the private sector. Share with us some fragments from the alumni, they are edited to make ‘polite’ reading over breakfast.

Belief System 1# MONEY!

‘Re universities, there’s little turning of the tide and ironically it is via the corporate sector.
See the Chair in Literature ($5) announced a little while ago, funded by John Wylie (merchant banker) and named after his wife.

And believe it or not, not to be outdone, Paul Little (Chair of Essendon/Toll Holdings) in today’s Financial Review, announced a Chair in History ($10M) to be named the Hansen Chair after his wife ($ left over after the plastic surgery – check out the pics!)

So…… Glyn (Grin) Davis is laughing all the way to the bank with all these cashed up bods wanting to leave a legacy and make themselves feel good (not sure how many of them get out on the soup van!) But nonetheless it is very pleasing to see.
And as we all well know, Dame Elisabeth led the way. But despite her generosity,and the devotion of her son to public institutions and vigorous public debate, the quality of the education from the arts faculty, sadly depleted since the 80’s, seems questionable.

And as it emerged from the newspapers, ‘it aint all bad’; (the Age and Fin Review)

Frederico da Montefeltro. (Op cit.) Renaissance era thug seeking respectability. No bearing on contemporary Australian History.

Award winning novelist, Richard Flanagan, has been appointed as the Boisbouvier Founding Chair in Australian Literature at the University of Melbourne.
The Chair, which is the first of its kind in Victoria, aims to celebrate and promote Australia’s rich literary traditions and abilities. It was made possible by a $5 million gift to the University of Melbourne by merchant banker and president of the State Library Board, Mr John Wylie AM and his wife, Mrs Myriam Boisbouvier-Wylie.
“We’re looking forward to seeing Mr Flanagan play a key role in promoting knowledge of Australian literature and activities that link two of our greatest cultural institutions in Melbourne – the State Library and the University,” Mr Wylie said.
Mrs Boisbouvier-Wylie added: “Richard is a writer of extraordinary talent. He made me discover and appreciate many facets of the Australian experience and psyche through his beautiful and evocative writing.

A passion for ancient Greek wars, the Renaissance era and art has led to the biggest individual donation for history studies for an Australian university.

BRW Rich Lister Paul Little and his wife Jane Hansen have donated $10 million to the University of Melbourne to boost teaching standards for history studies in the arts faculty.

Hitler and Stalingrad. History repeating itself. Captions; ‘Serco officers sitting thorough the wreckage of the Nauru detention centre, or the last days of the Australian manufacturing industry. (regrettably this will not be on the “new” history syllabus).

Ms Hansen, a former investment banker who is currently undertaking an arts degree at the university, said when asked about the donation and why she was so passionate about the importance of studying history: “Who wouldn’t want to know what made the 300 stand their ground at Thermopylae​ or why Caesar crossed the Rubicon, or Hitler pushed on towards Stalingrad or what caused Gorbachev to tear down the Wall?

“It is my intention this will change the conversation about history. I want to encourage awareness of the significance of an education in history and nurture a passion and appreciation for its relevance in the wider community,” she said.

Dear reader, there’s a bold new initiative afoot in the desert centre. A first for contemporary education. It’s not Naplan. It’s not Gonski. And it’s not VCE approved. But what it is presents a brave new era for contemporary values, and a new start for the dissolute, the disaffected and the delinquent. Read on.

Yoonda College. “bring us your over- indulged, your bereft, your dysfunctional”

‘ Bring us your over-indulged, bereft and dysfunctional”

From the remote community at Yuendumu, comes a counter to ‘outmoded traditional values’. For those who choose to live in those outmoded fringes of the coastal cities and its vices of tribal law, alcohol, pornography and domestic violence, Yoonda college offers a opportunity, a life-line, a life changing scholarship to a very select group of over-indulged  private school children.   To lift them from the mire, and install a sense of pride within themselves and as leaders for their community. ‘These kids have everything and it’s destroying them, yet the don’t get the irony in that they have nothing. It’s a condition prevalent in this era of snap chat, reality television and 24-7shopping’ (Principal)

Here are some fragments of testimonials taken from the syllabus.

The School’s enshrining principle is matter of fact and to the point.  ‘Yoonda will fast track your social and intellectually disssafected brats from the alienation that comes with having too much money. Being filthy rich and a slave to the market should not be a life sentence. Being smug, insular and complacent should not be the norm. Yoonda will rescue a few so that they, (the rest) may be freed. Freed from fear, insecurity and the curse of REAL ESTATE!

Yoonda’s “Centre for Learning and Leadership”

Experience; “wait long time” , 40,000 years experience. ‘Our syllabus has been going a long time, some 35,500 years longer than Eton, and you’re not required to wear a boater, fag, beat servants or assume the Prime Ministership on preference through a narrow peer-group alone’.

Naplan; Non Aboriginal persons learn about Nihilism. (NAPLAN) ‘A neo Naplan orientated program, designed to foster the individual within. To learn the strength of co-operation, communication and community through non metric nuanced activities that are truly meaningful’. Conversation, engagement, laughter and reciprocity.

Yoonda’s Physical Training and Personal Development Centre”

Socialisation; the establishment of non economic oriented relationships. “Some of the most tragic cases that come to us are individuals, (poor sods) who think that all transactions, physical, emotional and spiritual are just transactions. We had an awful time in readjustment, but in the end, the results speak for themselves. (Deputy Principal)

Drug and Alcohol awareness; Coping without alcohol, party drugs, crystal meth, coke. ‘Our drug dependence team has been hard a it developing a world first programme, designed to anchor the student without recourse to mind altering substances’.

Mental health; Coping by “sharing”. ‘Tragically some of the inductees have never ever experienced the joy of sharing, They are completely dysfunctional, we aim to bring back a sense of pride in being part of a community’.

2nd and 3rd home aversion therapy; Learn to cope without second or third home. ‘Some of our inductees cannot cope with the concept of not having a second or third home and servants. The process of making a cup of tea is alien to them. By addressing these deficiencies we give then inner strength and self reliance’.

Yoonda’s International best Standard Student Resource and Careers Centre”

Art; Art viewed as a non monetary object. ‘We indulge in art for arts sake. Once a piece is produced and admired it is left out in the rain and destroyed so that the spirit of the painting is forever fresh. In doing so we counter the fetish for property and over-ornamentation, so common amongst their ilk. And foster Imagination’.

Spiritual: Coping without the tribalism of Anglian, Catholic, Judaic, Muslim, and other deterministic, patriarchal religions. ‘There is often quite a bit of reluctance for the inducted to understand that the real spirit of country lies in the human and natural systems rather than an old retributional bearded bloke who’s totally hung up about sexuality and punishment.’

Giving; ‘We have an annual giving appeal designed to establish that giving is an end in itself. This is often the most tormenting part of the syllabus as the inductees expect to be rewarded for altruism and common decency with a grant, a title or an Order of Australia. Allowing them to see that such indulgences are “tokenistic’ represents the first small step into re-acquainting themselves with a basic humanity.

Outward bounds. Engage in the world beyond the classroom. ‘There is no classroom, country is the classroom. There are no boundaries, only those in the mind’.

And now for some testimonials from former students.

“I realise that there may be more to life than shopping” (Ashley Kelmscott-Crutchrot (yr 9)

‘The environment is like, rad, it’s amazing’, (Julian Whitworth- Whoppington yr 12)

‘It’s like, like I mean, It’s like I could live without my i phone, (Pugsley Pendlebury Purvis yr 9)

‘They taught me something profound. I’ll never forget! What is it’?, (Jasper Jarvid- Jupiter yr 11)

‘I even learnt to share, Like I let em use my iPhone for a selfie’, (of myself). (Elspeth Eloise Losengebotham yr 7)

‘It’s like now i’m off coke, there’s more meaning in my life, like Coke. It’s the real thing. really’, (Sebastian Stanley Stanhope Standpipe, yr 11)

‘Wow, and I learnt to do nothing all day, and it made me a better person’, (Kathryn Pryor -Palmer yr 10)

Enrolments are open for the 2016 year. And a limited scholarship available to your chronically over- indulged.

Dear reader, it is with deep contrition and in the interests of even handedness we offer you this rebuttal to the recent piece, “Scholarships on offer to Indigenous children’  by Cecil Poole. In hindsight the opinions of Cecil do not reflect the balanced view of the editorship, and run contrary to standards of taste and fair-mindedness. We print in full the transcript of a letter written with some justifiable indignation from the President of the board of one of our leading Independent private schools. In the interests of impartiality, the School’s name has been withheld. We apologise, as were were going to give you the first of our instalments from ‘Yoonda College’, a not for profit community school focused upon the re-integration of spoilt, rich, white kids back into community, but that’ll have to wait.

The letter; ‘To Cecil Poole, a rebuttal’!!

” Other schools are following our initiative by the simple expedient that it works”!!

‘Dear Sirs I am appalled at the inference made by Cecil Poole regarding our offer of scholarships to Indigenous Australians. Clearly, ‘HE’, (Cecil) has not consulted our scholarship and leadership initiative targeted at giving Indigenous Australians the gift of Pride and Position. If he read our initiative in chapter three, ‘Aborigines Naplan and Learning’ (ANAL) he would grasp the fundamentals.  He is completely ill- informed, and to suggest our actions as “tokenistic’ is both offensive and libellous in the extreme!!  Our entire school community is absolutely committed to the  engaged and active provision of unconditional help to those afflicted in remote communities. And we are not alone. Other schools are following our initiative by the simple expedient that it works!!!

I would like to outline several initiatives that are working succesfully at this very moment to improve and elevate the general mood with these communities and the good will that is generated by making some of their younger members, future leaders. Clearly Mr Poole, ( and his strident, shrill, leftist ideologues) does not understand the gift of leadership we bestow upon our charges. Let me illuminate him.

In our recent initiative, “Stepping Up”, we’ve gifted the entire (superseded) middle school winter uniform, blazers, ties and caps to the community of Wadeye for use in their newly constructed Community Centre. And the mothers and friends of old boys have been busy sewing new ‘W’ monograms over the breast pocket as a symbol of deep and lasting cultural exchange.

Priceless first edition ‘Approach to Latin’, with front paper signed by Tonkinson, Poggs and Crotchet, Captain, Vice Captain and Wicketkeeper. First Eleven victors over Xavier 1938. Gifted to Bidyedanga remote community.

Most recently, both the French and Latin departments in the Big and Middle School donated their entire library of “Approach to Latin“(1931), ‘Lays of Ancient Rome‘(1842), and “Ecouter et Parler“(1968) to the community of Bidyedanga and Bardi, (W.A) as a token of esteem. These works will form the background of our initiative to integrate native language with an understanding of global tongue.

And it is with great pride that i mention that the recently de-commissioned rowing eight, (the very same that has won numerous Head of the River and Henley regattas) the Sir Algernon Lickspittle, has been gifted to the Todd River Community for use in their very own Todd River Regatta.

The nobility and virtue of sacrifice. The Old boys eighth eight, bereft after the charitable donation of the “Sir Algernon Lickspittle” to the Todd River community, (N.T) for use in their native regatta. Since this photo was taken a new racing eight has been provided courtesy of the “National programme for excellence in the Arts”.

Mr Poole thinks the bequeathing of scholarships to these natives is a one way gesture, he is sadly deluded. By these initiatives we have proven that we are intent on achieving meaningful long-term partnerships with these communities moving forward. And by plucking these indigenous Australians from the inequities of poverty and tribalism, we establish an understanding throughout the entire community that will improve their lot. By having real leaders trained in our proven and long term public school system we will ensure that subsequent generations share our passion for doing things right, and understand what is ‘proper’ and ‘correct’ in the service of our community, in the entrenchment of real community values.

Self interested? I say emphatically; ‘No’! We do this noble work in a spirit of profound altruism. And we are directed steadfastly to ensure that our values of School and Service  enshrine the very best in tradition, respect and a love of authority. Sadly in spite of the professed, and much taunted 40,000 years, their tradition is sadly in decline. Our school motto rings true; (“ad lucit, ducit et vita est’); ‘To the light we lead, and live’. We must stand up, give them a hand, and show them the way’!

What then, is Mr Poole’s problem?

Our proud new unfinished Tapestry, to adorn the Allan and Frida Jones Centre for Innovation, Learning and Leadership ” Long time Dreaming” or; ‘Middle management leads to a stronger future”

I enclose a most recent image of the tapestry commissioned by mothers’ and the school chapel friends’ in commemoration of our sister school relationship with the community of Wurrrumiyamnga, (Tiwi Islands), which will be unveiled in the foyer of the recently opened Allan and Frida Jones Centre for Innovation, Learning and Leadership, Domain Road Campus. The image, “long-time dreaming” by a deceased local native has been faithfully rendered by the staff in our art department, and re-designed by our army of volunteer mothers, wives and old boys with a grant from the Federal Government, (National Programme for the Excellence in the Arts) and assistance from the Victorian Tapestry Workshop.

The Westland Watusi

Westland Watusi’s mk 1 and 2. The Big W Tour! Captured by official photographer in publicity flight between Woolongong, Woy Woy and Wagga Wagga.

Capitalising upon the dance craze that seized Australia in the mid thirties and profoundly influenced by the Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers productions of ‘Top Hat, Gay Divorcee and Swing Time’, The Westland Aeronautical company decided to produce a versatile short hop airliner that would revolutionise the industry.

The “Incredible Arthur Askey” preparing for high altitude encounter with “Destiny”, (Savoy Ballroom)

The first Watusi was unveiled at the Empire air show in 1936 as a direct response to the threat posed by competitors in this emerging market. On a specially constructed dais, the band led Vic Sylvester and the incredible Arthur Askey performed a rendition of ‘Fly me down to Rio’. The Watusi emerged on stage in a flurry of pyrotechnics and chorus girls on loan from the Savoy ballroom. The rivals, The Standard Motor Company, Fairey, and Bristol had similar displays but were less popular. Their prototypes, the Fairey Foxtrot, the Triumph Tango and the Supermarine Swing-Time, (the first ever with variable swept wing capability) were the very latest thing in small airliners boasting a small catwalk, mirror ball and cigarette girl in one package. Only the Foxtrot offered a fully integrated Wurlitzer with amplification and stereo cigarette girls trained in the art of exotic dance, Tango and Spanish non-stop dancing.

Dance Master extraordinaire, the incredible Walter Hipgroove. Costume kindly lent on this occasion by the Minister for Science and Innovation the Rt. Hon. Christopher Morris Pyne.M.P. (From his personal collection).

During trials it was revealed the Watusi in spite of appearances lacked performance. Initial tests indicated a failure to reach a satisfactory altitude in cruising. This was attributed to the Twin Gypsy Major Engines lacking sufficient power and demonstrating a tendency to wander when made to work hard. Furthermore, the dance floor of imported teak was considered too heavy for sustained flight. Disappointed with the performance the technical engineer, Walter HipGroove, replaced the timber floor with linoleum and upgraded the engines by installing solex carburetors and augmenting the fuel system with higher octane fuel.

The results were astounding.. The Watusi outperformed its rivals In level flight, could climb both faster and with greater stability, and outclassed them in providing a stable dance floor with the addition of non stick surfaces. Tragically the Foxtrot and Swing time crashed, their engines being out of tune and no capacity for lift when their respective fuselages fractured due to a request during trials for a jitterbug number. Only the Watusi survived. A proven performer in the Latin, waltz, and outstanding success in the improvisation category. As a consequence orders rushed in and the first Watusi’s were delivered to TAA for use on the short hop Melbourne-Geelong route, then favoured by backbench minsters in State and Federal government.

 The prospects for the Watusi were exceptional. It carved a niche that had no rivals, and consolidated the all important Canberra route. Then tragically disaster struck.

 Without warning Watusi no 45 left Essendon Airport for the Sydney run. Armed with a suitcase of 45’s , mostly waltz and tango numbers it disappeared en route. The next week the same thing occurred to a Watusi bound for Adelaide. There were no survivors. The rest of the fleet were grounded whilst an exhaustive investigation was initiated. No cause could be found. Then, rehearsing a Busby Berkeley number the entire troupe of the Tivoli Showgirls was conscripted to perform a number on air ‘so to speak’ in the upcoming Roy Rene feature ‘Strike me blue’!! Carrying parachutes the chorus girls performed their routine with precision and panache, the Wurlitzer played and the musical number, ‘Excuse me Madame I’m working” reaching its climax when disaster struck!!! The plane exploded.

Former Tivoli Showgirl ” Chrissy Pyno-Colada”, demonstrating popular Busby Berkeley number, ‘ Daddy wouldn’t buy me a bow wow” choreography by Stanley Donen. Photograph taken at subsequent enquiry into Watusi VX 123 Tango Foxtrot Air Disaster.

 The subsequent enquiry revealed the cause, ‘Dance Fatigue’.

Sadly the rest of the fleet were withdrawn from service when Boeing cornered the market with the ‘Stratoliner Speak-Easy’. Which combined the performance characteristics of the Watusi with dance fatigue proof strengthening designed to offer protection against high, low, and blue notes.

Westland Watusi Specifications

Crew: 2 (up to 12 passengers)

Range: 1500 miles

Powerplant: 2 x Gypsy Major four cylinder Inline engine

Performance

Maximum speed: 150 mph

Range: 1500 miles

Service ceiling; 14,500 ft

Rate of climb; 5000 ft per minute

Operators Australian National Airways

Here we welcome back that wonderful Murri Murri Poet  Lionel G Fogarty,

TRAVEL AN ARRIVE

Bird has dreams
When done dreams as humans
Mornings as voices were done
Are woken for dead.
Nights rest up for the futures
Fight voting for higher words
In the woods green being burn.
Now birds voice is songs
For all the wronged times.
So to be as good unto those
Paying for free music and
Poetry without wages was
The keys to the cars children’s.
Be the bird not caged
Be the being not been sized.
Sitting under sky were clouds
Is not seen blue hot heat?
Eyes sweating water, my feet
Hands wants to hit my face side to side
To ask will their be earth friends or
World of lost souls …
Birds have screams in silent
Of the human talking’s.
When all thoughts are not the dreamers
Taken by the mind the lone body free.
She goes from here not writers
He goes from here not painters
Bit there people go off singing
But there people go off dancing
She goes from here reading
He goes from here seeing
Pictures being a movement

Lionel G Fogarty 1 May Time 4.30 Thursday Merton Vic

(This dispatch first saw the light of day 28 January 2013, isn’t this a relief from all the crime we’ve been writing about?)

Gidday  mates,

Topical question: Did PM Julia Gillard do the right thing in ‘parachuting’ Nova Peris into a safe NT Senate seat
…. A puppet on a string?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RT37zNj44JU

For those that live outside Australia, Nova Peris is an Australian Aborigine, originally from Darwin. She is an exceptional athlete and the first Indigenous Australian to win Olympic Gold (at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics as a member of the women’s hockey team).

Julia Gillard imposed her “Captain’s pick” (her words) on the NT Branch of the ALP (Australian Labor Party), which as well as the incumbent Senator Trish Crossin had several Indigenous (non-athletes) members putting their hand up as potential NT ALP candidates for the next Federal election.

The PM’s move raised a lot of controversy, centred around the fact that no Aboriginal Australian had ever entered Parliament as a member of the ALP.

An article in New Matilda (an online ‘news forum’) drew varied responses… this was one of mine:

“Many years ago when I first started living (with my family) on an Aboriginal community, I would on occasions get introduced (usually in Alice Springs not far from the Todd River) to some other white-fellow with the expectation that I would be thrilled to meet them. The fact that I had nothing in common with said white-fellows and the possibility that my reception of these strangers would be less than enthusiastic did not occur to my Warlpiri friends (Jungarrayi, come and meet our friend…. ).
I detect something of the same paradigm operating here. When Leigh Sales (who would do well to study Andrew Denton’s interviewing style) on the ABC’s 7:30 Report interviewed Alison Anderson, she kept pressing her “wasn’t the appointment of an Aborigine a good thing?” To her credit Alison stuck to her guns and was not drawn into discussing Nova’s merits (or otherwise).
A big step towards co-existence and reconciliation or whatever you want to call it will be made, when the idea that any (token) Aborigine

…Token Angels… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2b3mjmzCEcI ….

will be better than none is abandoned and instead the many very talented Aborigines with varied backgrounds are respected and appreciated on their merits and given free rein to express themselves instead of being stereotyped, stigmatized, used, controlled and suppressed (as under the NT Intervention).
A respect for different languages and different world views instead of the ethnocentric assimilationist imperative currently operating in Australia might be a good starting point.
This could eventually evolve into a Parliament of varied and free thinking individuals, and no one giving a toss as to the Parliament’s ethnic make-up.”

“ ‘To be or not to be’ that is the question “, indeed the most famous question in the English language.

In Spanish there are two verbs ‘to be’: Sér and Estár, as in ¿Quien sós y donde estás?  (Who are you and where are you?) Soy Franklin y estoy en Yuendumu (I am Franklin and I am in Yuendumu).

Remote Australian Aborigines are denied the right to sér and increasingly the right to estár.

Enormous fiscal, legal and social pressures are being brought to bear that deny dignity respect and the right to be their distinct selves. Sus derechos de sér

Enormous fiscal, legal and social pressures are being brought to bear that push people away from the bush (where they lead happier and healthier lives) and draw them to urban centers. Sus derechos de estár.

They are being denied the right to self-determination. A right they have, by virtue of the UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which Australia has endorsed but fails comprehensibly to comply with.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUU17FUj9Gc

Q: Why despite much expenditure on ‘early childhood development’ was the Government seeing no results?

This question prompted a coordinator (for the seven early childhood initiatives currently competing for Yuendumu’s children) to come out to Yuendumu to find an answer.

Q: Nangala asked the lady: “what sort of results were they hoping to see? We think our little children are doing just fine!”

A: All children in remote communities are down on two indices.

Q: Nangala asked: “And what might those indices be?”

The lady didn’t know.

To which Manuél from Barcelona would have responded: “¿Qué? (‘niyaku-wiyi!?’ in Warlpiri …. In English: ‘Whaaaat!!!???’ or ‘WTF?’)

All I have is too many questions
Is there something someone forgot to mention to me….

How do I know if I am right in why I feel like I do.
And separate the truth from the lies…..

….Sam Sparro…. Too many questions…..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqU0rzSm8Mo

From that inexhaustible source of inspiration, an Eduardo Galeano book….

On a wall in Quito (Ecuadór):
“ Cuando teniamos todas las respuestas, nos cambiaron las preguntas”
(When we had all the answers, they changed the questions)

In remote Aboriginal Australia, so often have they changed the questions, no one (including those that ask them) seems to know anymore what the questions are, nor what they were, nor what they should be.

Not that it matters much, no longer are we asked and they come armed with their own answers anyway.

No one listens, so people here have given up answering, or out of expediency tell them what they think they want to hear.

Most Warlpiri people now steer clear of bureaucrats and others, and hardly any attend the unending meetings.

Myself I don’t know what the question is either, but I think I know the answer: Respect!

Gimme gimme respect
Show me show me respect…..
Respect me, for who I am
And not what I am

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEcomflSWV4

For who I am and not what I am….Vale Lucky Dube….

See yas later,

Frank

Traditional Values return to Education. Former Education Minister, The Rt. Hon. Christopher Morris Pyne, demonstrating new ‘Naplan Approved'” Educator”. Comes neatly wrapped, or for your discretion in plain paper, and offers, both standard, cane, rubber, or latex tipped for added efficacy.

Dear reader, just to let you know we’re up to date on the latest in contemporary educational practice, we bring you this compelling insight from Cecil Poole. You may be shocked to find that Cecil considers the noble, high principled and charitable efforts by our government funded private schools in promoting education for young native Australians as a sham. Shocking that Cecil eschews the efforts of these schools, whose uniforms are also very nice, and quite expensive, for Indigenous Australians. We must inform you that there is moderate intemperate language.

‘The idea that Private Schools offering scholarships to indigenous children and then calling this a good thing makes my blood boil. It smacks of cultural supremacy – by US (so called whites and more on this nomenclature in a later post) giving (charity and more on this too) giving them them, the OTHER, the poor unfortunates, a leg up in our society. The assimilationist imperative here is palpable. Be like us, mix with us, be educated like us and maybe you will have a chance not to end up like your brothers and sisters. And don’t those schools play on this CHARITY, using it in their promotions, advertising, using tax deductible money for this shonky practice.

A leg up! And after 40,000 years Indigenous Australians never had such a noble uniform.

Have any of these schools or the people who blindly support them thought at all of how this looks to indigenous people? I who guess it looks just like another smack around the chops, similar to the government, missionaries and social workers who took and still take the children away from families in unconsciable number and then telling those from whom they have stolen the children that it is for the best, it is for their good – as if being with family counts for nothing, as if the culture in which they were born has no value.

Traditional Education. Poor outcomes moving forward. Note unacceptable dress code and non compliance with naplan.

We sanctimonious (so called) white arseholes, have we considered what we’d do if our child was offered a scholarship at an indigenous college? Go on consider it. Education in a culture of over 40,000 years, a culture in which people routinely were fluent in at least three languages, where they had good health, and minimal violence. Where they (in contrast to us) are respected and lauded overseas. Where they had learned to live in reasonable humility as a part of nature.
Send your child there for four years? A couple of thousand miles from home, and look, there will be families who will have them to stay during the holidays, and show them off to neighbours.

Why is it that Private Schools feel so good at offering scholarships to indigenous children? (These schools, bastions of privilege, forces for growing inequality, conspicuous representative of inequity, ravagers of the public purse, degraders of public education, and smug to boot.)

Dear reader in the interests of even-handedness, we shall bring you an upcoming except from the Yuendumu College prospectus, (‘Yoonda College’). Enrolments aren now being accepted for the 2015-2016 tuition year.

Dear reader, it is with great pleasure, and some relief we bring you two fragments from our North American, (deep south, non Paris end), correspondent G.T Beauregard. The first neat little observation is emphatic in what it tells us about the rule of law in new Orleans and it’s neighbours, whilst the second a snapshot of Tourismo’s struggle against the grinding press of “life”. Read and grow with him.

‘It’s been another fascinating week in NOLA.
Coincidentally (having looked at PCBYCP) I wuz robbed! And so have written about it.

William Wayne Justice. On the road.

There was a good man in Texas by name of William Wayne Justice – who was, as it happens, a judge of the Federal District Court for the Eastern District of Texas. For years and years he irritated all good men of the state by running a long case over conditions in its prisons. And finding that they routinely violated the prohibition on cruel and unusual punishment in various vile ways.
Such men (and now women) no longer seem to obtain judicial appointment in these parts.

Then there’s the unusual frequency and length of incarceration. One lucky bloke I was reading about this week stole $650 and attempted to steal $750 more. He had 5 priors for burglary. This time? Life. Another, picked up pissed and sleeping at the wheel of his truck in the middle of an intersection, admittedly his 3rd or 4th such offence: 24 years! No, not out of line with comparable sentences, said the Louisiana Court of Appeals.

It’s all very interesting’.

And then from the diary. (soon to be published by Folio in a leather tooled and deluxe edition rrp. 24.95, for the discerning reader).

7/11/15

Yes folks; “it never rains but it pours in New Orleans’. Tourismo and his articled clerk in search of the missing bicycle.

I am a victim of crime. The Beauregardian conveyance has been stolen from behind the offices where I labour to bring civilisation to the South. Gran Turismo no longer, Beauregard is perforce reduced to perambulation.

Splendid badge gifted to G.T. Real chocolate!!!

The 8^th District office of the New Orleans Police Department on Royal Street is an imposing late Victorian building, testament to a time when order commanded public respect and a corresponding budget. One enters an airy lobby across which a counter has been constructed at roughly chin height. To the left a vending machine provides souvenir T-shirts, the sale of which supports Orleans Parish’s finest. There are also souvenir “artwork” and three display cases of mug-shots, handcuffs, billy clubs badges, paybooks and other memorabilia connected with the career of the late NOPD Superintendent Henry Morris.

Supt. Morris was appointed in 1982 when his predecessor resigned in the wake of protests over the fatal shooting by NOPD officers of four young suspects who were apparently unable to assist police further with their enquiries.

The items preserved by the chief include a slim pamphlet, no larger than 5 inches by 4, on the detection of offences. Ah – happy days indeed, when the task of bringing criminals to justice or, perhaps more accurately, reducing the predations of the criminal class was so much simpler than it is today.

Outrageous acts of racial profiling committed by unreformed NOPD. Trial underway in N.T. African American undergoes paperless arrest for being black, short, and poor.

No longer. Interfering do-gooders of the lightly-chilled-white-wine-drinking class have so infested the city with their all-women-are-brothers attitudes and let’s-undo-the-imaginary-sins-of-our-fathers activity that the officers upon whom I would rely spend their days filling out forms to show compliance with a judgment to which the department consented a couple of years ago in the United States Court for the Federal District of East Louisiana. Hard as it is to believe, the Feds had brought suit against the City alleging that officers “routinely use unnecessary and unreasonable force”, that “detentions without reasonable suspicion are routine, and lead to unwarranted searches and arrests without probable cause” and that the force’s methods involved discrimination against certain races, sexual orientations and genders. A supine civil administration threw its finest to the Federal wolves.

The bogus concerns of the federales entirely ignore the interests of those like your correspondent. In an imperfect world of limited resources the law is surely most efficiently enforced protecting depradations upon those such as I who have the most at stake. By contrast, theft and violence amongst the lower orders does not involve any real loss: their trinkets can at best be regarded as on temporary loan until taken under cover of darkness and turned to use by their neighbours; the measure of dignity in their lives is already so limited that nothing done to them can appreciably reduce it.

Mme Beauregard assists in search for stolen Bicycle in upmarket Garden District. She holds Jumbo marker to assist pencil-less G.T.

I expect, at the least, the prompt use of sirens and physical persuasion of the relevant stratum from which the thief obviously comes. Heavy is my heart, then, when the lonely but obliging constable suggests that I make out my own report of the crime. Heavier still when, having sought the use of quill and ink, he apologetically informs me that limits in the law enforcement budget preclude him from sparing his own instrument, and is forced to rummage through desks elsewhere in the building to find one.

G.T’s new bike!!

The grisly details of this egregious violation of my rights is then duly recorded, I am further disappointed by the department’s inability to provide any form of immediate assistance in restoring my property and administering condign punishment to those responsible. Fully one half of the station’s staff have called in sick; only one squad car is operable. Am I to be comforted by his conciliatory but patently empty promise that the affair will be referred to the bureau of criminal investigation?

There was but one remedy. I bought another bicycle.