Today, our poetry Editor, Ira Maine Esq gives us wonderful commentary to accompany the poem.

‘William Butler Yeats’ a poem by Alec Derwent Hope.

To have found at last that noble, candid speech
In which all things worth saying may be said,
Which, whether the mind asks, or the heart bids, to each
Affords its daily bread:

To have been afraid neither of lust nor hate’
To have shown the dance and when the dancer ceased,
The bloody head of prophecy on a plate
Borne in at Herod’s feast.

To have loved the bitter, lucid mind of Swift,
Bred passion against the times, made wisdom strong;
To have sweetened with your pride’s instinctive gift
The brutal mouth of song;

To have shared with Blake uncompromising scorn
For art grown smug and clever, shown your age
The virgin leading home the unicorn
And loosed his sacred rage-

But more than all, when from my arms she went
That blessed my body all night, naked and near,
And all was done, and order and content
Closed the Platonic Year,

Was it not chance alone that made us look
Into the glass of the Great Memory
And know the eternal moments, in your book,
That we had grown to be?

AND now for Ira Maine’s commentary.

The Australian poet Alec Derwent Hope (1907- 2000) spent all his life in the twentieth century, was eleven years old at the end of the Great War, danced the Charleston in the Twenties, survived the Depression, the Hitler War, Joe McCarthy, Carnaby Street and even Elvis. He was around for Kennedy’s murder, and Thatcher and Reagan’s gradual, gluttonous triumphs. He was also there to witness a reprise of Shakespeare’s Macbeth as the Bush’s closed on the centres of power. And then he was dead.

The Irish poet,William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) on the other hand was a 19^th century man, in his forties before the Australian poet was born. Yeats had spent his middle-class Protestant life as a young man on horses or in carriages or being shunted around the countryside in trains. In the late 19^th century he was unmarried and spent his time being influenced by the Impressionists, ravished by Art Nouveau and louche in the company of Beardsley, Bosey and Oscar Wilde. He was old enough too, undoubtedly, to perhaps even view with disdain and regard  as a commonplace the Dickensian world of workhouses, appalling poverty and endless exploitation.

It is perhaps then, more than surprising that a  chord was struck within him when a few Irish poets, writers and artists, wholly unfit for their task, in 1916 Dublin, decided to declared war on England. To any sensible mind, this enterprise was an unmitigated disaster. Within a week, and by overwhelming force, the British Army captured every one of these creative lunatics, stood them up against the wall and shot them.

Yeats is galvanized, one might almost say revolutionized, not just by these deaths but by this sudden, extraordinary transformation of ordinary people into something extraordinary. These people are not dead because they took on some fashionable, easily assumed and easily discarded belief; they are dead because they had deliberately chosen to die. They knew that a handful of armed men in a few buildings around Dublin hadn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell against the British Army. They were also aware of the punishment for treason. The whole purpose of their tiny ‘revolution’ was the ancient, atavistic belief in the idea of a blood sacrifice; that only by giving their lives in this way might their aims be achieved.

I wonder sometimes whether the following lines ( from Yeat’s poem, ‘Easter 1916’) refer to  Yeat’s view of this sacrifice, and it’s transformative effect on the world, or perhaps a secret and deeply private transformation within Yeats himself. Perhaps it was both.

‘…all’s changed, changed utterly; a terrible beauty is born…’

Before the 1914-18 War, Yeats wrote “Leda and the Swan’ a hugely romantic poem dealing with the myth concerning Zeus and his ravishing of Leda, who, as a result, will give birth to Helen of Troy. After the Easter Rebellion in Dublin, after the sacrifice, Yeats wrote ‘Easter 1916’ and later on ‘Sailing to Byzantium’. These are poems of extraordinary power and grandeur and are unquestionably the product of a mind ‘…changed utterly…’ in direction, focus and maturity by both the idea and the reality of the blood sacrifice.

Alec Derwent Hope wrote a poem entitled ‘William Butler Yeats’.

The poem is a homage, one poet to another.

The poem opens with;

‘To have found at last, that candid, noble speech
In which all things worth saying may be said…’

This is Hope complimenting Yeats on his way with words, on having finally arrived at a capacity for  ‘…noble, candid speech…’

But it is not just that. It is Hope’s observation that Yeat’s way of using words, of expressing himself, is something that all poets should strive for, and may only be arrived at, ‘found at last…’ through experience and application.

The next three verses, or stanzas if you will, deal with the passing of centuries. Yeats has used the myths and legends of those centuries as a basis for his work. In the first of these three Alec Hope mentions ‘…the dance and when the dancer ceased…’

This is the famous question posed by Yeats in one of his poems; ‘…how can we tell the dancer from the dance?…’

If we watch a flamenco dancer for instance, as she whirls and claps, stampimg the floor, the woman and the dance are one. They are indistinguishable. You cannot say where the dance stops and the woman begins.

And of course, in Hope’s poem the dancer is also Salome, who asked for the head of John the Baptist, ‘…the bloody head of prophecy…’ at ‘…Herod’s feast…’

Then AD Hope says something wonderful, a few gloriously creative words which splendidly expresses how he feels about Yeats and demonstrates that Hope himself is up there with the best of them.

‘…to have loved the bitter, lucid mind of Swift….to have sweetened with your instinctive gift, the brutal mouth of song…’

Oh God, wouldn’t you give your left tit to have written that……?

Hope is talking here of Jonathon Swift, author of Gullivers Travels and Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin.

A few lines further on and we are in William Blake country, the country of ‘…dark satanic mills…’ and Blake’s horror of the exploitation of men, women and kids in the cause of the Industrial Revolution.

Blake and Swift, Alec Hope tells us, are two amongst many who had a major influence on the development of Yeats as a poet. And Yeats in his turn has had an equally profound influence on Hope himself, as we can plainly see.

And then that mysterious line; ‘…shown your age the virgin leading home the unicorn…’

Hope does not mean that Yeats is showing his age here. What is being suggested is that Yeats, by establishing the Irish National Theatre, with initially a heavy emphasis on Irish mythology, he was showing the Irish literary public (to have ‘…shown your age…’) the absolute necessity of re-establishing a distinctive Irish culture which had been forbidden by the ruling English establishment.

‘…The virgin leading the unicorn…’ is Hope’s splendid way of suggesting that Irish mythology demanded to be  brought back to its traditional place and long concealed, distinctive Irish custom and habit be re-established.

I am uncertain about the last two stanzas of Hope’s poem.

In Yeat’s poem,  ‘The song of the wandering Aengus’  Aengus has caught a fish, a trout, which turns magically into…

‘…it had become a glimmering girl, with apple blossoms in her hair,
who called me by my name and ran, and vanished in the brightening air…’

Aengus spends forever, perhaps eternity wandering the world in search of this magical creature. Hope, in my view, in the last eight lines of his poem, has himself become Aengus and at last has been reunited with his ‘…glimmering girl…’ who has ‘…blessed his body all night…’ but it is many thousands of years later, at the close of the Platonic Year, about 25,000 years later.

And here in the last verse. Aengus and the glimmering girl are looking back in time, from thousands of years in the future, looking back and saying that the immortal Yeats has not only made them immortal, but every poem ‘…in your book…’ will live forever.

Alec Derwent Hope, this a splendid poem, an unselfish celebration of a great man, a man you patently hold in very high esteem. I shall pay a great deal more attention to your work in the future.

END

Today’s dispatch is Transfer of Ownership.  Originally dispatched on 13 December 2014

Amici, buona giornata,

I’ve often claimed not to be the author of the Musical Dispatches. They write themselves. So soon on the heels of the last Dispatch, let this be the Christmas edition. I simply could not ignore this little gem from Hansard:

Senator Nova Peris 26^th November 2014 Senate Inquiry into the sale of TIO:

“Here in Canberra we have witnessed government MPs accuse their own Prime Minister of verbal gymnastics over his claims that he has kept his promise that there would be no cuts to the ABC or SBS. It would seem that Northern Territory Chief Minister Adam Giles likes the way his mate Mr Abbott denies the truth. How is this for a quote: ‘We are not selling TIO. We are just transferring ownership.‘ That is actually what the chief minister said in response to suggestions he should not sell it. As Michael Gunner, a Territory Labor MP said yesterday, ‘Adam Giles isn’t going to the Christmas sales this year; he’s going to the Christmas transfers of ownership.’

We are quite accustomed to Transfers of Ownership here in Yuendumu.

On the coat-tails of the Intervention, ownership of “community residences” was transferred to Territory Housing (a Darwin based NT Government Agency). These houses were “given” to Yuendumu by a string of politicians. You know the sort of thing “I got you three houses, vote for me”. The money to build them came from such as ATSIC, ABTA etc. These houses were held on behalf of the community by the Yuendumu Community Government Council. They were deemed by consensus to be communally owned. I’m not denying that occasional arguments re occupancy rights erupted, but such were resolved locally without outside interference (or should I say intervention?). Rent (admittedly modest)was paid on these houses to the Yuendumu Council, which employed such as a plumber who with his Warlpiri offsider(s) would do repairs at a fraction of the cost of bringing in Alice Springs based contractors. Prompt repairs were never the norm in Yuendumu, but relying on outside contractors (as is now the case) has not sped up matters in the least. Rents have increased several fold.

Transfer of Ownership occurred when the Yuendumu Council Inc. was appropriated by the Central Desert Shire (since renamed the Democratic People’s Republic of….. no just kidding… they  changed their name to Central Desert Regional Council-CDRC). The head office of CDRC is in Alice Springs, which is not within the area covered by the CDRC. When I last checked the CDRC employed from 70-100 people at head office. I’m not sure, but it doesn’t include one Warlpiri person. In Yuendumu itself slow but  steady progress is being made to regain local “ownership” and participation in municipal functions. This process is much slower than the instant transfer of ownership that took place some years ago.

But hey! What are we complaining about? Transfer of ownership is nothing new. Transfer of ownership has been the norm throughout history and continues to be so.

Of particular relevance to the descendants of the original inhabitants of what is now Australia is the transfer of ownership that took place in 1788.

In 1788 the Union Jack was planted at Sydney Cove.
….and he’s taken just all that I had…
…. The first cut is the deepest…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dK9eLe8EQps

When the Iron Curtain collapsed, a massive transfer of ownership took place from the Soviet Union to the Russian Mafia.

In Australia a massive transfer of ownership took place: Huge deposits of iron ore and coal owned by the Common-wealth (get it?) are now owned by the not so common few.

(a moot point, the huge deposits of iron and coal were included in the 1788 transfer of ownership unbeknown to the then protagonists)

I won’t spoil your Christmas dinner with more examples of transfer of ownership.

If you’ve been good I wish that Santa transfers lots of ownership to you.

…this toy is for you, now you have ownership,
You can share it but only if you want to,
You have the right to say, if someone can come and play with it…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXsJWTKKOfs ****

Arrivederci al prossimo anno.
Avere un felice Natale

Franco

**** Warlpiri children are continually told to share…. Unprompted, Warlpiri children will offer you a bite of what they’re eating…. Greed in Warlpiri society exists but is frowned upon. Greedy people are not part of Team Warlpiri!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwcKwGS7OSQ

Adam Giles. N.T Chief Minister. Strong Leadership. Forthright. Strong on Justice and stronger ‘Stronger Futures’

‘The Black Hole of Calcutta’, inspiring the N.T Government.

Dear reader, we wholeheartedly agree with the N.T Chief Minister… (Big Chiefy), that a hole needs to be dug in the N.T, to put all the “Bad criminals in”. We feel it is incumbent upon ourselves to offer a few suggestions on what may work, and hope it progresses real justice in the NT.

Combine Criminal Justice synergies with Mining. A Great Big Hole. Not concrete lined, but very hard to get out of.

Clearly Prisons don’t work, and a big hole could be just the trick. We may offer the N.T advice on how to keep those pesky U.N conventions off his back whilst we’re at it.

A quite nice big aquamarine hole in Johannesberg.

We have many wise heads in Australia who have a proven track record in these affairs. May our current federal ministers learn from the wise men of justice, Phillip Ruddock, and George Brandis. Doubtless incarceration of all those crims (of whom 90% may be the traditional owners) will make us safe.

Why should we paraphrase? Let me Giles speak for himself:

“It is not the portfolio I really aspire to but, if I was the prisons minister, I would build a big concrete hole and put all the bad criminals in there. ‘Right, you are in the hole, you are not coming out. Start learning about it’,

N.T Corrective Services officer cautions youth on self harm. Futuristic 3D simulation.

“I understand there are rules which guide the prisons in Australia and the United Nations, and how we use basic human rights in the treatment of prisoners … what I do not understand is how we are soft, flaccid, and incapable of punishing prisoners in our corrections system …

Superb example of a non concrete lined interstellar black hole. Fantstically this one exudes a shimmering white light. 100% Carbon neutral.

“I might break every United Nations convention on the rights of the prisoner but, ‘Get in the hole.’ “

Dear reader, with the impending Royal Commission into a ‘minor act of institutional bastardry in the greater scheme of things’, we have asked our very own poet laureate to register the deep concern held by the Turnbull Government to set things right. Indeed in the words of the Prime Minister, to; ‘initiate a thorough investigation” and bring those who are responsible to account. Indeed this piece, ‘fresh’ as it was written in great haste this evening by none other than Rigid Coupling suggests that reform is but a tissue, whilst we still ‘shoulders to the wheel’, carry on the great work of ‘Civilising”.

Australia’s greatness is it’s humility and deep progressive understanding of what the first Australian’s must feel when they thank us for all the good we’ve done them. The work, sadly, is ongoing. Such is the white man’s burden. To paraphrase the worthy sentiment of the Chief Minister, (‘Big Chiefy to his mates), ‘there aint a hole big enough to put all the crims’. And we know that 90% of the N.T crims are first Australians. Our very own, “new- caught sullen peoples, Half devil and half child”. And we credit Rigid with the pun, ‘new -caught’, cos as we all know Court is just a formality, throw away the key, cos there aint no hole big enough. Enjoy!

‘The White man’s Burden’ (by Rigid Coupling)

Take up the White Man’s burden, Send forth the best ye breed                                          Go bind your sons to exile, to serve your captives’ need;                                                    To wait in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild—                                                     Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man’s burden, In patience to abide,                                                       To veil the threat of terror And check the show of pride;                                                       By open speech and simple, An hundred times made plain                                                To seek another’s profit, And work another’s gain.

Take up the White Man’s burden, The savage wars of peace—                                          Fill full the mouth of Famine And bid the sickness cease;                                                   And when your goal is nearest The end for others sought,                                             Watch sloth and heathen Folly Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man’s burden, No tawdry rule of kings,                                                But toil of serf and sweeper, The tale of common things.                                                    The ports ye shall not enter, The roads ye shall not tread,                                                   Go make them with your living, And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man’s burden And reap his old reward:                                               The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard—                                                 The cry of hosts ye humour (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:—                                             “Why brought he us from bondage, Our loved Egyptian night?”

Take up the White Man’s burden, Ye dare not stoop to less—                                             Nor call too loud on Freedom To cloak your weariness;                                                      By all ye cry or whisper, By all ye leave or do,                                                                    The silent, sullen peoples Shall weigh your gods and you.

Take up the White Man’s burden, Have done with childish days                                       The lightly proferred laurel, The easy, ungrudged praise.                                                Comes now, to search your manhood, through all the thankless years                             Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom, The judgment of your peers!

And when you’ve finished the Royal Commission. Our advice is; ‘Travel First Class and wash your hands of it’!

(Editors note). Beautiful line that; ‘The judgement of your peers” because a few of my legal mates are having trouble with the school fees, and the upkeep of the yacht, the art portfolio and the fourth investment property. What they sorely need is another Royal Commission to really sort, (with egregiously restricted terms of reference) things out. And they’re still a bit sore about these super reforms that are on the table also. Though I suppose that isn’t quite so important as civilising and bringing the natives to brook with the rule of law.

A Likely Royal Comissioner. Justice Teflon Coates, Q.C. Will look into the issue root and branch and in doing so achieve justice. (and pay off a swimming pool, an overseas trip and a new Maserati for his wife).

Dear reader, after the recent four corners segment on bastardisation in juvenile justice in the N.T, we thought we’d jump the gun and begin our search for a leader. Someone from the very highest level to lead the enquiry. There will be a Royal Commission, and you know that leadership is required to sort this thing out. As in the Aboriginal Deaths in Custody Royal Commission, real leadership determined what needed to be done, and nothing changed. That preserves the order of things and the status quo. This time round we can expect the same, reliability of outcome is another index of leadership. To augment the search we have commissioned our excellent character artist Fortesque Metall esq, to capture the sort of individual, male or female who would most aptly fit the bill. An individual preferably from the legal profession and preferably with a need for a well paid sinecure, that may prolong a reasonable income for some several years.

Justice Betty Crocker Q.C. Will determine significant change in juvenile Justice. Will also write autobiography, secure speaking circuit and talk at global Forum on Youth Justice Issues. (and will also purchase a quite nice villa in Dijon)

As for the terms of reference, were working on them right now for tomorrows installment. We know one thing, and not being overtly cynical either, but we know that a flunkey somewhere will be blamed for the fracas, and the culture that sustains it. The culture that wont recognise the original crime which debases first Australians when their land, language, culture was stolen will remain unresolved. Strictly speaking the technical legal term is“ White Wash”. And to be quite frank, it’s a business model that has bought reward for many over several centuries. As the old expression goes; ‘If it aint broke why fix it’?

Stay enthralled.

Only in America.

Dear reader, at last some progress on the marriage plebiscite front. The new Turnbull government is locked in. And just to demonstrate how progressive, accountable and active our new government is, they’re getting down to the serious work of doing something about this vexed issue. That’s what we’ve come to expect from a Turnbull government. Action!

Fifi and Trixi-belle are to be married.

Since Malcolm became leader, that’s the singularity that separates him from other federal governments, ACTION!! The P.M has promised us ‘perhaps before the end of the year’ and equivocated just slightly with ‘next year would be more likely’. Demonstrating real leadership and a departure from the conservative ranks within his party. His determination to give the people of Australia, (60 % polled would like change) the plebiscite demonstrates LEADERSHIP. Of course we know the plebiscite is not binding, because there’s an unproven though clearly stated opinion from the Bernardii corner, that dog marriage seems likely. Dog marriage is not an option for those already in the dog house and it’s highly unlikely that dogs will be registered to vote. Importantly we as the electorate can look forward to a year, at the very least of considered open debate on same sex marriage. We only need to look at climate change to see how far we’ve progressed on the greatest existential threat of our time.

The man who mistook his CEO for a King Charles Spaniel.

Though 95% of scientists not on the bankroll of major fossil fuel companies attest to the reality of climate change, the other five percent, will be given full voice via the twin turbo charging of ministers Canavan and Frydenberg. We may expect more challenging and insightful comment as the climate science escalates the threat, and are gladdened to the very core that the departing science minister Mr Greg Hunt, (voted in Dubai as the worlds best minister) proclaimed ‘his job is done’. And he’s quite right, the ecosystem that sustains this planet is tilting into oblivion, and he’s ensured that nothing has been done to harm serious vested interests from fossil fuels and mining. Job well done. Perhaps like Joe Hockey (killer of manufacturing), he’ll get a diplomatic posting, somewhere nice, endorsed doubtlessly by Rupert.

Where it all went wrong. The Arnolfini wedding. Trixi-belle lower centre.

But back to the basics we can expect a very fair and reasoned debate on gay marriage in the lead up to the plebiscite, and then, after the rather expensive and worthwhile public discussion on gay-dom which may even make the existential threat of terrorism off the front page, we’ll get a determination. A determination to do nothing, or block any legislation in the upper house. This is democracy at work, and demonstrates the leadership you get from the Turnbull government on the big issues. And their big because Malcolm likes it that way. All the other sideshow issues, equity, public assets, tax reform, negative gearing, superannuation tax breaks to the uber wealthy, funding cuts to science education and healthcare are just not important enough. Listen to the Property Council, if you want stability, don’t rock the boat. Steady as she goes. Reform is dangerous, and as George Christiansen rightly says, the emphasis should be in defence, fear, and punishment for those who would dare question this orthodoxy.

Who by his definition must be either Gay or Muslim.

Just as well then that Dogs cant vote.

Famous Cabybara swimming family, The Burra’s” in training for Rio

Dear reader, do you know who or what the latest Olympic mascot is? I bet you don’t. You’re probably thinking, ‘Hmm, it could be something that’s indigenous to South America, can only be found in Rio, a Cabybara? A Piranha? or a Llama perhaps’?

Alternative Rio mascot?

To be perfectly honest, neither do we, and the sad fact is that we don’t care. Not that we mind the fictional character that symbolises all that’s wonderful and exciting and captivating about the Olympic movement. In ancient Greece it was held in honour of the gods. Now it’s just held to one, Standard and Poor’s. But we do know the mascot will be something that’s been tested by focus groups, and like Disney’s latest incarnation of the first latino themed heroine, it’ll be a sort of hybridized, corrected, nuanced “ nothing”. More of a flavour than a distinctive type.

Another (soon to be former) Olympic village.

If there’s flavour to be had in these Olympics, the news is devastating. Reports are now tricking in about the state of unreadiness of the Rio Olympic village. The toilets, when flushed simultaneously, create water walls, and the electrical wiring is all over the place. Truly Shocking! Consequently all the athletes have to stay in hotels, and there’s an army of cleaners making things right. Perhaps an army of plumbers and electricians would be more apt. Still the atmosphere and excitement is palpable, and buildings that actually weep and shock sound like a perfect encapsulation of the Olympic movement.

Vladimir, burning up the record book at Sochi

In Sochi, where the winter Olympics were held, the Russians, routinely doped their way to the top. The whistleblower has been granted some sort of immunity by the IOC and the Russian team have narrowly avoided disqualification. The IOC is committed to routing out corruption. They have a reputation to uphold. You can bet your bottom dollar that dollars have a lot to do with it. And of the consequences? If Russia was banned that would be the end of the competition. Other countries would have to fill the breach (so to speak) and dope their way to the top.

Back to basics.

It’s a medal race. The medal tally is the only thing that counts. Australia didn’t win gold at Sochi. If we’d won some, we might see more funding for figure, skating, and bob sledding, and be respected more as an international second tier, non world leader type country. Such significance is placed in medal tallies. It cements a nations position. But like a credit rating from Moody’s or Standard and Poor’s . That’s why poor countries do badly in the Olympics, they not only have poor credit rating, but a rotten medal count. How many did Liberia win? You know the answer, just the same as East Timor, Nothing!. That’s why we had to stitch up their gas and oil reserves. You can’t trust a medal-less nation to look after itself. Similarly, you can’t expect much from Rio. They may be terribly good at soccer, but in sport that require real skill, like Rugby, Cricket, and Yachting they just lack the depth. It’s not in their national character. Olympics are the litmus paper of national character. There’s no simple solution. The Olympics aint a level playing field.

But there is an answer. Bring back the true spirit of the ancient Olympics, make the tally fairer. Allow a global audience to marvel at events cleansed of corporate sponsorship. All athletes will compete nude. Replace medals with laurel wreaths, (any wreath will do) and dispense with luxury accommodation, by offering airy tents, simple food, and the bounty of amputation or ritual sacrifice for those who cheat. Then we’d have an event worth celebrating, and Rio would go down in history as the turning point of an idea that had been corrupted by big money, bad mascots and nationalistic hubris. Instead, we’d celebrate humanity. Get rid of corruption and the global tragedy of “former Olympic village-dom”. Is that too much to ask? And concentrate on stuff that’s really important. Incidentally, what is the mascot for Rio?

This from our Poetry Editor Ira Maine (Man of Taste).
The wonderfully lustful Roman poet Catullus, written a couple of thousand years ago: –

Dear Ipsitilla, my sweetheart.
My darling, precious, beautiful tart,
Invite me round to be your guest
At noon. Say yes, and i’ll request
Another favour: make quite sure
That no one latches the front door
And don’t slip out for a breath of air,
But stay inside, please, and prepare
A love-play with nine long acts in it,
No intervals either! Quick, this minute,
Now if you’re in the giving mood;
For lying here, full of good food,
I feel a second hunger poke
Up through my tunic and my cloak.

(1959 Bobbs-Merrill, ODI ET AMO, THE COMPLETE POETRY OF CATULLUS, Roy Arthur Swanson) –

Today’s dispatch is Blitzkrieg.  Originally dispatched on 05 December 2014

Guten Tag Freunden,

Dirtsong- Black arm band….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-kxPpuOfZI
German Blitz =lightning, Krieg = war. Blitzkrieg is what happened in 1940 when the Netherlands, Belgium and northern France where occupied in a matter of days.

Donner und Blitzen = Holy fug or bloody hell, alternatively two of Santa Klaus’s reindeer.
Patrick Dodson, one of Aboriginal Australia’s better known deep thinkers made a speech at UNSW entitled: “Can Australia Afford Not to be Reconciled?” The speech included:
“The strategy for assimilation of our peoples is not a mistake made by low-level bureaucrats on behalf of successive governments who didn’t know better. It was and continues to be a deliberate act orchestrated at the highest levels in our society, and no amount of moral posturing can hide that reality. This Assimilation I talk of has not been evidenced by equality, but by further control, incarceration and subjugation to norms and values without our consent.”

When a living being has a crap, under certain circumstances a coprolite can result The name is derived from the Greek words κόπρος (kopros, meaning “dung”) and λίθος (lithos, meaning “stone”). A coprolite is a fossil turd. They can last thousands of years. You can buy them on E-Bay.

When a Blitz (Wirnpa in Warlpiri) strikes a sand dune (Warlpiri Ngalyarrpa) the result can be a fulgurite (Latin Fulgur= lightning bolt). A cylinder of molten silica that can last for thousands of years.

1.    
2. A Blitzkrieg is adeliberate act orchestrated at the highest levels. It takes years of preparation, days to execute, and the consequences can last for generations.
3. Where I was born (the Holland part of the Netherlands) the WWII occupation took days. Liberation took 5 days short of 5 years.

Three years earlier the Basque town of Guernica was bombed in what is now regarded as a dress rehearsal for the bombing of Rotterdam.

Picassos’ famous painting and Zadkine’s sculpture say it all.

4. Three years ago Oombulgurri community in the Kimberleys was closed down by the West Australian Government

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/nov/27/the-trauma-of-oombulgurris-demolition-will-be-repeated-across-western-australia

Last month the bulldozers rolled into Oombulgurri.

A dress rehearsal for the proposed closing down of 150 communities in Western Australia. A deliberate act orchestrated at the highest levels.

Black arm band ‘Our home our Land’  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd5USIuYOM0

6. Misinformation, distraction and deceit are used to great effect in Blitzkrieg.
7. Red Herring = something that distracts attention from the real issue. Thus, the debate regarding inclusion of Indigenous Australians in the Constitution was defined by a participant on an NITV panel show.

Government propaganda has distracted us with the NTER (Northern Territory Emergency Response), Closing the Gap, Stronger Futures, Generation One, the Wilson report on NT Education, the Forrest report on Aboriginal employment und so weiter ad nauseum.  All the time a Blitzkrieg was being planned, a deliberate act orchestrated at the highest levels. An Endlösung (final solution) aimed at the reversal of Aboriginal Land Rights. The recreation of Terra Nullius aimed ultimately at giving access to vast areas of Australia for exploitation (such as mineral extraction, oil & gas –including fracking, military exercises and nuclear waste dumps) without the need to obtain “informed consent” from the original inhabitants.

Speed and Surprise are used to great effect in Blitzkrieg (in fact they define it).

Whilst we’re all savouring the Schadenfreude derived from watching the Mad Monk squirming as a result of the puppet master’s Senate performance, Blitzen are taking place on a wide front.

In the NT under the guise of “Northern Development” and a need to speed up the “negotiating process” (with mining companies), the Giles Government (in cahoots with federal minister Nigel Scullion) are mounting a serious attack on the Land Councils and Aboriginal Land Rights (see attached article by Ian Viner). Divide and rule tactics are being used by exploiting Aboriginal discontent about aspects of the Land Councils’ modus operandi.

It is ironic that that weather vane of Aboriginal NT politics, Alison Anderson, is now a member of PUP and has become our best hope against the onslaught.

The Jolly Giant doesn’t fool me, he did (after some entertaining populist outburst and some chest beating about “amendments” and “concessions”) after all allow the abolition of the Carbon Tax and Mining Tax to pass through the senate. But as far as I’m aware Clive Palmer has no mining interests in the NT.

In Queensland, an Aboriginal group is taking the Newman Government to the UN over fracking in the Lake Eyre Basin. If the notice taken of the UN Special Rapporteur on the rights of indigenous peoples

(James Anaya)’s report after his Australian visit in 2010 is anything to go by, the Lake Eyre Basin Aborigines shouldn’t be holding their breath.

In South Australia the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY) people’s land rights are under serious threat by the recent proposed changes to the APY Land Rights Act. The changes to the Land Rights Act are being rushed through parliament, without any consultation with Anangu. The comment piece attached tells all.

All of this under the approving gaze of Australia’s own Prime Minister for Indigenous Australians.

Australia is indeed “open for business”

Standin’ on Solid Rock Standin’ on Sacred Ground….

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

Words are easy, words are cheap
Much cheaper than our priceless land
But promises can disappear
Just like writing in the sand

Nhima djat’pangarri nhima walangwalang
Nhe djat’payatpa nhima gaya nhe
Matjini … Yakarray
Nhe djat’pa nhe walang gumurrt jararrk gutjuk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7cbkxn4G8U

Auf wieder sehen,

Franz
http://www.change.org/p/colin-barnett-stop-the-closure-of-the-homelands-state-and-federal-governments-must-fund-services-in-remote-aboriginal-communities?recruiter=12232583&utm_campaign=signature_receipt&utm_medium=email&utm_source=share_petition

http://www.change.org/p/geoff-brock-reject-the-proposed-changes-to-the-anangu-pitjantjatjara-yankunytjatjara-land-rights-act-1981?recruiter=12232583&utm_campaign=signature_receipt&utm_medium=email&utm_source=share_petition

Make America Grate Again!!

Dear reader it has come to our attention that speech writing MUST be a declining art. Recently Donald Trump’s superbly enhanced wife gave us a stirring performance at the republican party convention. Melania is capable, (insiders say) of speaking seven different languages. That is truly impressive!. In spite of this excellence in language diversity she, as so many pollies do, required a professional speech writer. This is an indispensable part of the political process these days. A speech writer is there to finesse the art and as Kevin Rudd so boldly demonstrated, render the spoken word into a sort of incomprehensible sludge. Julia clearly used a speechwriter when she said ‘working families’ and ‘moving forward’ at the first speech as P.M. In an instant the voters were lost. Similarly Tony Abbott used a speechwriter, (or maybe he didn’t) to give us the three word slogan. Likewise we turned off.

Donald is no slouch in the wordsmith department. As a consequence Donald has a lot to say, and is quite happy to talk without the benefit of speechwriters on world affairs, Mexicans, Islam and building walls. Donald is resolute. We like that in leaders.

Kev. Talking the legs off a chair.

But this speech by Melania seems incomprehensible. I understand that Americans are almost as likely as Albanians not to have the requirement of a passport. That’s because Americans (so we are told) have no requirement for overseas travel. Because they are blessed by god with everything the world has to offer. So you can understand the isolationism that Trump espouses, and perhaps get an inkling into why Melania, did not do her speech in French, Russian, Slovenian, Greek, Italian, or German. Melania is quite fluent in these languages. If she’d just plagiarise all of it in French, she’d be a legend. But why, as a picture perfect protegee of the plastic surgeons art, would she bother trying to read in bad English, a very dull speech. And why could any one be bothered plagiarising the platitudinous waffle that Michelle Obama trotted out.

Getty Who?

People living outside the US of A, quite like Obama, but the locals, we’re told hate him. Why bother plagiarising the other bloke’s missus. Surely, and this is the point, if Melania had done her own Gettysburg, and spoke about what she knows, perhaps nuancing it to talk about shopping in the most exclusive boutiques, a love of ostentation , and a desire to see the poor eliminated as a global scourge she would have bought the house down. Even if she’s got up and said ‘Vladimir, there is no other was the greatest inspiration to her hubby’. Instead, multi lingual, travelled, rich beyond measure she banged on about her old man’s integrity, vision and all that other crap.

We demand a better standard of poor speech writing. Bad poor speech writing is as bad as when Vizard thought he was a comedian, or John E, thought he was the sheriff of the Sth Pacific and took us to war in Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s an aberration and why?

Because it’s so lacking in imagination. It’s also just bloody lazy. We all learnt this years ago, why bother plagiarising, when tortuous gobbledygook will stand the test. A gold standard, that if said with enough conviction will carry the day.

And the ol maxim aint true; ‘You CAN fool some of the people some of the time, and you CAN fool most of the people all of the time’.

Particularly if you own the vehicle for telling and fooling.

That’s it in nutshell. God bless America.

And God bless Rupert!.