Making our borders UNSAFE! Suspect Illegal vessel must be destroyed to keep us SAFE!

Just when we though it was safe to tuck ourselves in at night and sleep knowing our borders were SAFE and INVIOLATE we awoke to find FOREIGN persons stuck in OUR MANGROVES! Heads will roll!. But for the moment, some amongst us saw it as an omen. That perhaps we could offer something to the world and the world would recognise the light of compassion burning dimly down south. 

(If you have problems with illuminated southern lights downstairs see a medical specialist and seek attention. And the tension mounts as our seraph from the near north pens this ode for the ones who almost got through.) 

He writes; 

DRAW NEAR AND PAY ATTENTION.

In slavish imitation  of the Americans, we established (at vast expense) our own Border Protection System. Like all things Australian, the idea was seized on initially, particularly by all sorts of our right wing lunatics, as the answer to their prayers. These outrageous, bare-faced  enthusiasts used our Navy to drag all incoming boats back home again. This was all done in secret because as far as I can glean, not one  of our ‘award winning’ journalists risked their necks to show us the inhuman horror our government was inflicting on refugees and asylum seekers.

Suspect illegal aliens being rounded up and sent to prison. TO KEEP US SAFE!

Time passed…problem solved….and the Fascists amongst us rejoiced. We had stopped the boats. Meanwhile, and largely due to European and American political machination,  and their support of dictatorial monsters, millions of refugees, driven off their own land, took off for Europe.

This exodus proved, almost beyond doubt, that the European Convention on Human Rights is not worth a cracker. These refugees, our spineless governments attempted to convince us, had become, had been judged to be, against all reason, and incomprehensibly, the enemy.

Back home, sometime later, the Fascists now are trying to broaden their appeal by, more or less, establishing themselves as ‘the way forward…’ (whatever tnat means…)

Suspect Illegal alien villainously gaining the confidence of a local prior to committing unspeakable acts. Don’t be fooled. Even a beer in your hand wont render you SAFE!

Farcically, gloriously, after all the time and money spent on ‘protecting our borders’, on extra  boats and extra personnel, more patrols  both day and night, and the absolute assurance that our refugee crisis was absolutely under the control of our ‘Border Force”. A splendid boatful of refugees from God knows where, utterly eludes our patrol vessels, traverses hundreds of kilometres of open ocean undetected, and lands, following an unfortunate encounter with a bit of Barrier Reef, without loss of life, in Australian Northern waters..

Hurray for them! A thousand times hurray! Fuck the government! Fuck the Border Force!

This is a gloriously splendid example of the absolute indomitability of the human spirit,

This boatload of Odysseans, this splendid crew, should be given the keys to the kingdom, pensions for life and be made national treasures.

Compared to these oceanic traversers, our politicians who so disregard human rights, who behave so contemptibly in terms of oompassion and international law, are seen to be what they really are: cowardly and cheap, narrow, joyless and tawdry, and wholly unfit to even dare to represent us.

God bless all adventurers possessed with an abundance of the human spirit!

HUZZAH, HUZZAH! HUZZAH,

Ira Main

Studio Photograph of Professor Blake, (LHS), working on the case of the Autralian Universities “visas for degrees” scandal prior to his sacking from Melbourne University.

For all you bibliophiles, at last some new meat on the Bone. This is the inaugural installment from our book reviewer Professor Joe ‘Sexton’ Blake. In this installment he gives us an insight into the other side of everything. Or if you’re the latest P.M, an affirmation as to why he was “Chosen buy God” to lead us. (That is not a typo). And you can read his review, ‘God Given’, for the special price of $27.99, (Hillsong publications.)

Sadly we were going to throw in the knife set, but they’ve all been used on despatching the last  current. PM.

Professor Blake is a genial fellow who though not ordained by God, seeks truth and integrity. This led to his sacking from our esteemed universities, and delivered him unto us. “We shall be grateful”, (Mathew, V111. Ch V) ( Hillsong Press)

Joe writes….

Growing up Aboriginal in Australia, Edited by Anita Heiss, Black Inc Books, $29.99

Reviewed by Professor Joe Blake

To their great misfortune, most Australian residents have never met an Aboriginal person. That means they’re missing out on the wittiness, humour and resilience of a remarkable group of people, almost every one of whom suffers racism every day of their lives.

If you don’t know any indigenous people, you can gain an insight into their world by reading this marvellous book. It’s got short articles by about 50 Aborigines from all walks of life; many of the stories are confronting. When I read part of the book on a bus trip, tears were streaming down my cheeks in response to the trauma imposed by the mainstream. Some of this is unconscious, such as “Would all Aboriginal students please report to the quadrangle” over the school loudspeaker system. (Imagine the average sensitive teenager’s response to being singled out like this.) In other cases, it’s malicious, like that big city journalist who loves making the underdog squirm just so he can take home a fat pay cheque.

Some of the contributors to this book are from the Stolen Generation, and took many years to finally catch up with family and country. Others grew up not even suspecting their heritage, with one black parent always desperately trying to cover up their true identity; sometimes a lucky coincidence led them to a miraculous discovery. The majority always knew who they were, loving the times they spent with extended family, learning about the ways of the old people. It’s not all positive, however; there are stories of the extreme unhappiness in some families, unhappiness caused by the horrible indignities this group has been subjected to ever since Captain Cook made his first landfall.

A very strong theme in this wonderful book is depth of skin colour. Some siblings are whiter than others; they’re more acceptable to the white world, but can sometimes feel guilty that they’re not properly black. The bitter truth is this: no matter how white you are there’s always someone who can find out that you’ve got a “touch of the tar brush”, as one contributor puts it, and totally destroy your day, week, or even your whole life.

Professor Blake suggests there could be a link to Adam Goodes villification and an undercurrent of deep-seated Australian Racism.

One of the many impressive things about this book is the uniformly high quality of the writing. You might expect it to be uneven, but all of these people are brilliant communicators. Perhaps it’s a survival skill they’ve learnt from their tormentors. 

Some of the contributors are well-known. Footballer Adam Goodes, one of the best AFL players ever, ended his stellar career in dismay after being continually booed by opposition crowds, with the approval of officials. Opera singer Deborah Cheetham tried to sing a slightly more meaningful Australian Anthem at the AFL grand-final but was knocked back because she wanted to substitute “peace and harmony” for “young and free.” Others are prominent in their chosen fields, while many are just ordinary people, living ordinary lives; it’s just that they’ve got an extraordinary shared background.

Make sure you read this book. It won’t give you the lived experience of its authors, but at least you’ll have a slight inkling of what they’ve been through.

Ming and Winston. Out to fight Facism, ideology, and those that would threaten the Empire.

He looms bigger than the other Bob. Though Ming has long departed, his forgotten people a barely seen shadow reflecting a time when the wealthiest amongst us may have earnt two, perhaps three times more than the average worker. His message was not be too ambitous, not work too hard, be comfortable and suburban. And keep ideology out of politics. In doing so he thrived. Whilst to his left, Labor, filled with post war, post depression post IWW, ideology tore itself to bits. There was just too much ideology in the Labor party. The right faction, the left, the old unionists, and the new unionists. But the biggest lobby was not the Labor Party, but those who thought of Labor in terms of somethinng ancillary to Australian interests. Interests much further afield.  Where you may ask.? 

In Rome. Their boss wore a big gown a funny hat and was all the way with the certainty of fascism until the wind changed. His deputy, chosen by god. B.A Santamaria. 

The other Bob. determined to defend the “other Empire”.

The other Bob had a view on things. Socialism was dangerous. The commies and their lefty ideology were destroying societies. And education, once a vehicle for emancipation, was giving people ideas. Ideas that if unchecked would question, the role of god and the church as the social glue that kept us fearful, servile and brow beaten. 

From the ashes of Labors self destruction he saw his epiphany as an angel rising under the mantle of the DLP, the Democratic Labor Party. Like its East German counterpart, the Democratic Republic. It’s credo was anything other than democratic. It was ideology. Ideology of the social right. More in touch with Honneker thah Hegel, more alligned to Murdoch, (that’s Keith) rather than Marx. 

And as he rose, on his ideological wings of certainty the Labor Party crumbled. Until relieved from its dependance on peculiar christian fundamentalism to be secular, and win the 72 election in a landslide. 

As kids we had to wade through this in order to get to the Highlight, “World Championship Wrestling” and “Epic Theatre”. Not realising that the other Bob had turned politics into Epic Theatre.

Something else  happened. The Labor Party, innovative, transformative, progressive, was no longer a safe haven for crusty conservatives. The Liberal party beckoned. A shining beacon. Since Mings departure, ossifying under the miasma of Macmahon. 

Santa’s little helpers.

So when Tony crossed the floor, think Bob. When Feravanti Wells got up and left Malcolm citing “gay marriage” as the “reason why’?  Think of Bob. When Kevin, Tony, the other Tony and most of Queensland chanted “clean coal” think of Bob. And when the dust settled and Scott Morrison became out new PM, thank Bob. Bob had a telly show “Point of View”. It came on before ‘Epic Theatre”.  Epic Theatre was about gladiators and Imperial Rome. As kids we couldn’t see the connection. We loathed Bob’s Show.  But its aim was Epic. “Keep us fearful, browbeaten and inadequate”. 

Bob Santamaria is the hero of 2018. His conservative core catholic values gave us the great schism of 1955. And now playing out seventy years later the great split of 2018 in which his little helper, “Santas little helper’ Tony Abbott, has done to the Liberal party what Bob and his mates did to the Labor party. Kept em unelectable. And in doing so made heroes of ordinary, some say very ordinary men and women. 

The “little helper” has done to the Liberal party what Bob did to Labor. Made it unelectable for years and years and years.

Good onya Bob. Good onya Tone. You’ve see the light, 

In giving us darkness. 

Creed, by Steve Turner

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don’t hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before during
and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
We believe that sodomy’s OK
We believe that taboos are taboo.

We believe that everything’s getting better
despite evidence to the contrary.
The evidence must be investigated.
You can prove anything with evidence.

We believe there’s something in horoscopes,
UFO’s and bent spoons;
Jesus was a good man just like Buddha
Mohammed and ourselves.
He was a good moral teacher although we think
his good morals were bad.

We believe that all religions are basically the same,
at least the one that we read was.
They all believe in love and goodness.
They only differ on matters of
creation sin heaven hell God and salvation.

We believe that after death comes The Nothing
because when you ask the dead what happens
they say Nothing.
If death is not the end, if the dead have lied,
then it’s compulsory heaven for all
excepting perhaps Hitler, Stalin and Genghis Khan.

We believe in Masters and Johnson.
What’s selected is average.
What’s average is normal.
What’s normal is good.

We believe in total disarmament.
We believe there are direct links between
warfare and bloodshed.
Americans should beat their guns into tractors
and the Russians would be sure to follow.

We believe that man is essentially good.
It’s only his behaviour that lets him down.
This is the fault of society.
Society is the fault of conditions.
Conditions are the fault of society.

We believe that each man must find the truth
that is right for him.
Reality will adapt accordingly.
The universe will readjust. History will alter.
We believe that there is no absolute truth
excepting the truth that there is no absolute truth.

We believe in the rejection of creeds.

by Steve Turner

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

The Queen is dead, long live her music,

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of these Dispatches that Aretha Franklin is my all time favourite musician.

I don’t believe in Heaven, Aretha did, so as far as I’m concerned that is where she is.

Her most famous and iconic song is Otis Redding’s ‘Respect’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FOUqQt3Kg0 (Aretha’s original 1967 version)

I will confine the social/political segue (which are a common feature of these Dispatches) in this Dispatch, to a quote from Kim Beasley Sr. (The Whitlam Government’s Minister of Education): “To deny people an education in their own language, where that is possible, is to treat them as a conquered people and to deny them RESPECT.”

Barely a year older than myself, I’m not exaggerating when I assert that Aretha’s music has been and continues to be a significant component of the soundtrack of my existence.

I’ve always maintained that if I sank so low as to put a bit of music on an answering machine, I’d put ‘(I can’t get no) Satisfaction’ on it- goes without saying, not the Rolling Stones’ version.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eto2urJTKno

And then as a bonus, through the magic of IT, I discovered years later that Aretha played a “mean” beautiful piano…

Long ago I read about the Studio in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. In the deep segregated south of the U.S., there were these “good ole southern boys” playing music with this black lady, and what music! Music is humanity’s social glue.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yfzpv1j4YN0

Bridge over Troubled Waters…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DBl5gAs6WI

Dr.Feelgood…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S44sovsp7RE

Today I sing the blues…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgnPK94olGg

What a friend we have in Jesus…..

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNFgKot8oh0&list=RDtNFgKot8oh0&start_radio=1

I never loved a man, the way that I love you….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waS0rKeuzg8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpo0RG4zGNo

I was pleased to see on the TV News that Aretha’s family, friends and neighbours are celebrating her life rather than mourning her death. That is how it ought to be- like a New Orleans Funeral second line…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-CC1o6XkGQ

Franklin

P.M reflects on infallibility of NEG.

WE at pcbycp are deeply worried about the black cloud. WE are so worried and deeply troubled by the reassuring Murdoch press. The Australian headline, “Coal is better than  good for humanity’ has us troubled. WE suspect there may be a hidden agenda. 

And so we sought the advice of our top scientist, he’d left for the UK. We then trawled the halls of academic excellence, Melbourne University.  We commissioned the School of Earth Sciences to set up a laboratory to try and find out what powered the creeping blackness. WE spent quite a bit of money. Several million, then more and then before we knew what we’d committeed over half a billion dollars to the cause. For a week we waited and in spite of repeated requests the senior academic in charge assured us that the antedote was forthcoming,. Still no answer, though we were impresed that something was happening. The staff had increased to five hundred, their letterheads were stunningily corporate, and  the Executive Officers overseeing the research had taken themselves on a junket to Bermuda.  We waited, knowing that staying in first class hotels would probably help imeasurably with the research.  And after some prompting, knowing that they had to follow up research in Honolulu and the New Hebridies, they returned. 

Melbourne University. Australia’s first destination for RIVERS OF GOLD!

They told us by telex that their finding was positive and we were to await a special announcement on the next Monday. 

Breathlessly we waited and then we were summoned to the highest tier of Melbourne University. The Vice Chancellors office. And the Vice Chancellor, beaming, told us, ‘we have the answer’. He looked pretty relieved. We were ecstatic. An answer to the black death sweeping down upon us. 

Then, the senior bureaucrat, the Chief Executive Officer of the Black Cloud Research Foundation suggested we sit down. Then florushing a manilla folder he announced; “ This is the answer”. And pulled from the folder a card. He passed it to us. On it the word printed in Bold text, “BELIEVE”. 

So this is the answer, ‘Believe”? we enquired. 

“YES”! He pounded the table. ‘This is the answer to the black death. Then, turning to the Vice Chancellor;  ‘and we‘re offering a twenty five percent discount for overseas long term PHD students and indexing the normal overseas student rate at an un-believable eighty five thou per annum’. 

” If you’re gonna stand for something. Stand for NOTHING”. P.M delivers stitrring address on the floor of Parliament.

But… we stared fidgeting, We’re a bit flumoxed, How will these new visa rates and discounts for overseas students help us in the fight against the creeping darkness? He paused, looked at us as though we were stupid. He laughed. His colleague simpered in agreement, “Don’t you understand, this new dispensation wil give confidence to overseas investors and mums and dads investors in China’. And how will that help? ‘It will help because it gives us all confidence that the system is working’.

Working for what? We enquired? 

‘Working to ensure that our status in unquestioned, and that we’re seen to be reliable and beyond doubt’. 

‘Believe’! he said

‘It’s that simple’. 

In what? we said

‘In belief. And that’s unquestionable’.

‘But what of the spirit of the  enlightenment  and the question why’?, We said in desperation

‘To ask Why? Erodes the principles of Believe. 

And besides,  it makes people worried that we don’t know all the answers’. 

And that would damage our reputation. 

And that would COST US BIG!

P.M Seeks sage advice from Lord Dutton of the Far North.

Dear reader, as you may remember, the insidious creeping “ black death” of the coal dust cloud has now swept further south engulfing the Gold Coast. And though a spirited attempt was made  by ‘Clean Coal deniers” in Byron Bay and Mullumbimby it ’s creep continues inexorably. The last person to get out of Byron Bay was emotional, but described the chaos. 

Sir Percival Pecksnith, (aide to the Governor General) Holds aloft NEG as guarantee against the ” Insidious creeping black miasma”

“Faith alone may save us”, PM chants. “NEG” in a futile bid to save CIVILISATION!

“ We tried as hard as we could. Every tree along the Pacific Highway was festooned with rainbow coloured flags. We held gay marriage services up and down the coast. WE even adopted a Sudanese  mascot “Umbutu” and a first australian to appeal to the climate gods. But it was to no avail. At first we thought the cloud had been stopped. We rejoiced. For a whole week it just hung there neither going forth nor going back. An invisible line, our belief in science and rational thought as protector against ideology and idiocy seemed to work. But then, just as we began to believe we’d stopped it dead in its tracks it sought us out. It came for us, not down the coast, but around us and behind us. It have moved into the hinterland, drawing sustenance from the Armidale electorate. And fueled by Barnaby’s rise as a non relevant, very loud mouthpiece for Gina Rinehart, it gathered strength, and then, engulfed us. WE were literally done in the back. And I can tell you we had barely an hour to get out. The only people who stayed, were the Byron Bay writers festival attendees. They foolishly believed in the power of the written word, or wisdom and humanity. They died horribly. Our last image of them, Pompei-like the life sucked out of them, frozen, immobile atrophied to the corrupting influence of clean coal. 

Still the black cloud drifts further south. Latest reports describe the Newcastle ports and the Hunter Valley being subsumed and as always, in spite of intense efforts, even the sacrifice of young children to abate its wrath, the resistance has been useless. In a crisis meeting in Canberra, the PM was heard to mutter, “if it can’t be stopped it is gods will’. And the former PM Tony Abbott stating categorically this is what happens when you question the will of Lord Rupert of Murdoch. 

MP Craig Kelly. Deeply troubled about unfolding events.

PM leaves press conference, “I stand for NOTHING”! A broken man.

The sea, and every living thing in it, a coal derived sludge, accelerates the process of coalificaton and surfers off Bondi have noticed the first tell-tale signs. Little chinks of Briquettes and Coke floating in the water as flocculated particles. In spite of this, the NSW government has welcomed the first signs of Coal-ageddon, by sugesting that the Waratah be replaced as the state emblem, and  encouraging signs that school children will be rewarded with “Coal is good for humanity’ fridge magnets, paperweights, wall charts and metric rulers. But Sydney seems doomed, From the electorate of Craig Kelly the cloud is bearing down  and seems unstoppable. Fanned by Islamiphobia. It feeds on Fear, and seeks to make us realise that humanity is doomed unless we adopt coal, eat coal and as all carbon life forms are loathe to admit, burn together in carboniferous union. As the PM said, “There IS no other way”. 

There’s certainty in Coal, and the LNP want you to all now it’s a final solution. 

No question about it. 

The Coal-dust cloud emanates from the seat of Kennedy. ” It cameth to avenge the non- believers”, Corinthians Verse vi. Ch 12.

Dear reader, recent events beyond the Brisbane line indicate that fast changing phenomena are transforming the political landscape. Nothing we can do can stop the insidious creep of the dark cloud, that is gobbling up vast tracts of land. At first the weather forecasters believed it was a celestial phenomenon, a dust storm, or perhaps a rare atmospheric event. From Indonesia some projected. But chemical and trace analysis has proved one unalterable fact. A giant black cloud of creeping coal-dust is heading ominously further south. And there’s nothing we can do about it. 

The PM seeks expert advice on Climate change and National Energy Policy.

Children have been advised to stay indoors. The old and infirm have been advised to use towels, ventilators, and adhesive tape to block out the  cracks in doors and windows and ensure that the cloud can’t find its way into homes. Worse still, the sites south of Brisbane which until quite recently were free from the black stain have been subsumed, and communication seems non existent. It’s like ‘The Beach’, a senior meteorologist cried as he gave his report from the Gold Coast. ‘One moment a shiny citadel shimmering in the midday sum, symbol of all money can buy, the next a black miasma in which all signs of life have been blotted out. At this rate we don’t know where it will stop’. A Scientist from the CSIRO climate department, the one left who does odd jobs since the government cut the funding have this  to say, “never seen anything like it”. 

Thinking the cloud was charged by some other unseen force, rather than purely an environmental phenomenon, we asked the experts. 

Strong Leadership. Forcing the PM’s Hand in this moment of crisis.

Eminent psephologist Malcolm Mackerras was on hand to give his view. ‘The cloud seems to come from those elctorates in the deep north that believe the the earth is only six thousand years old, that woman was made in man’s image to be stoned, and questioning the orthodoxy of clean coal is a capital offence. WE can pinpoint the origin to the elctorate of  Kennedy, and other electorates in which the coal orthodoxy is an unquestioned way of life. Last communication was that if Turnbull doesn’t dump Paris, Canberra is doomed. Well I’ve gotta tell you, he’s dumped Paris, and the genie is out of the bottle. And it can’t be stopped.  WE need leadership  in a crisis like this. And nothing short of a miracle can save us from coal-ageddon’. 

The Prime Minister?, we asked. He guffawed, ‘Missing in action. Last thing we heard he was looking for a photo op with Merkel, then Vladimir, then Trump. He likes to be seen in those circles’. But the people are being subsumed we asked. ‘That’s o.k, he’s left Dutton in charge. They have Certainty’. Certainty of what? we asked ‘That the general mass of non Queeenslanders will soon adapt to their unque perspective on life’. 

And what’s that? 

‘To know that knowledge is an evil thing, that difference is a curse that saps White Australia of its vitality. And that if you’re not one of us, you’ll be sent to Nauru. And it seems to work. With absolute authority he has found a way to make Queensland adapt and thrive. The coal cloud is a repudiation, God’s vengenance on the non believers. 

There is only one law.

 Dutton’s law. 

As is written in the Bible. 

The insidious creep of the cloud of Coal Dust is overwhelming those electorates marked ” Green”. ‘For Green is the colour of Beelzebub, in his darkness’, ( Leviticus Ch3. V v1)

And it’s immutable…

(This is the second part of  Musical Dispatch from the Front of 11 August 2018.  Use Google Translate for text you cannot understand.)

In the Big Name No Blankets film, Rachel Perkins said “I saw George (Rrurrampu) and the Warumpi band play to thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands of people all around Australia, and I saw how George could reach out and touch people, open their hearts to make them celebrate and embrace Aboriginality, and just DANCE with us and sing our song…” We in Yuendumu got to see that too, we got to sing and dance.

In 1986 the blackfella/whitefella tour came to Yuendumu. 1986 was also the year in which what was to become the most successful Aboriginal Band ever (Yothu Yindi) was formed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BSAqjtSbkw

Peter Garrett’s unique dancing style both intrigued and amused us.  When musician Peter Garrett became a politician, he no longer danced. He couldn’t because his bed was burning.

Are you the one that’s ready with a helping hand,
Are you the one der begreift these family plans?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GULW1sOpzo

In 1992 a group of us drove all night to go to the inaugural Broome Stompen Ground Festival.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHYbwHTGOv4

Scrap Metal and Yothu Yindi were there. The Warumpi band had reformed to be there. ABC TV was there and Australia got to celebrate and embrace Aboriginality. And we were there and we got to sing and dance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3RAPV7p-nc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XH3E22JAQo

Micah and myself used to drive into Alice Springs to take part in the Monday night jam-session at the Riverside Hotel featuring the Booze Brothers. We’d run into other Aboriginal musicians such as Sammy Butcher and Frank Yamma that would travel large distances to be there. We’d fire up the mostly white audiences and get them to get up and dance. On one occasion I walked in and the bouncer made a gesture acknowledging my naked (I didn’t have a case) trumpet. When I looked back I saw Micah held up at the door. By coincidence my entry had resulted in “a full house”. My offer to swap places with Micah as he was “a far better musician” bounced. I insisted on talking to Herman (the Booze Brothers musician in charge) and we somehow managed to squeeze Micah into the full house. Micah didn’t play or dance that evening.

Some years later our son Joseph went to an Alice Springs music venue. His friend Grant was refused entry on the basis of the clothes he was wearing. They retreated to their car and swapped clothes. To no avail, Grant was again refused entry.  When Mark Twain said: “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society”, he left out skin colour!

I forget exactly when but in Yuendumu we were treated to a concert that featured both Slim Dusty and Yothu Yindi. A veritable musical smorgasbord.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUi2Ae0ksxE

Before you object to the last verse “ his skin was black but his heart was white” keep in mind Louis Armstrong’s Black and Blue “I’m white inside…”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSjH1h7-m5E

It is all a matter of context and sentiment.

A state funeral was held for Slim Dusty in 2003. He was 76.

A state funeral was held for Yothu Yindi’s lead singer, Mandawuy Yunupingu in 2013. He was 56.

In the film No Name No Blankets Rachel Perkins tells of when George Rrurrampu died in 2007 (he was 50) a phone call to the responsible minister suggesting a state funeral was responded with “We don’t hold State Funerals for musicians”

The ethnocentric assimilationist interventionists that are intent on Closing the Gap (instead of Bridging it), don’t dance. They don’t begreif much.

If they have their way, …there will be NO dancing.

नृत्य पर रखें
Frank
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-eqrc_jVVA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWYUsKCYPLg