Dear reader,

The famous ‘Wattle Portrait’.

With so much at stake with Energy policy, or the failure thereof, and the vexed question of who’s submarines to buy, which prison to send Julian Assange, and why John Barilaro, wouldn’t be a perfect fit as NSW Trade Commissioner on the heels of Joe Hockey’s superb performance we are no closer in our quest. But we do now have, for the first time in years, two sworn and reliable allies who have come to protect us? Or perhaps more tellingly, see in our plight an opportunity for renewal, rapprochement or just release from the bounds of captivity.

Cheered as they are by the union of Julian and Benny-Boy, and impressed with how closely between them they have the defense and intelligence of Australia foremost in these imperiled times when  ‘the Drums of War’ throb and boom so menacingly, they still worry about how they’ll get out of Maralinga. And how will Benny- Boy and Julian, both marked men  travel with them and not be un-masked?  For even as we rested inside the dusty, musty interior of the Maralinga Air Terminal we knew that time, precious time was ticking by.

A legendary Australian performer makes indigenous culture accessible.

‘I dunno’, Ces replied, taking another drag from one of Terry’s camels; ‘this could just be another false start. I mean’, he pointed to the Centurion Tank.’ If that’s our only way outta here we’ve gotta long journey ahead of us.. last time I drove one as a reservist at Pucka, it took about one mile to the gallon.  And from here it’s about five hundred miles to Alice, and even when we get there, what guarantee have we got that we wont be arrested’. He pointed to Julian, who’d now pulled out of his leather jacket a whiskey flask, and was passing it to Benny, who just drained the contents in one gulp. ‘You see,  they’re mates. They’re both in for big stakes, and the likes of us are no more than a nuisance, I reckon, once they’ve used us to get out of here, we’ll be dumped or’…. he paused; ‘Worse’.

We looked at the infamous duo, now both puffing on Ecuadorian cigars, and Benny had produced a small pocket-sized photo album of snaps taken at the Fat Lady’s Arms, and once again we heard the guffaws as the dry desert  air was rent with their laughter.

Old Australia half crown postage stamp showing standard first nations person.

Same bloke who proclaimed; ‘Melbourne as a site for a Casino”

‘I dunno’, Quent said, ‘we could hide out here for a while, it aint that bad really, and over there’; he pointed to a Coke machine, and a chocolate dispenser. ‘Those machines may not be empty, and with the tank we might go Roo shooting and sort of live off the land or a bit’. The idea sounded tempting, indeed, the Air terminal, though long abandoned was not that bad. There was a portrait of the Queen, another version of the famous wattle portrait, and apart from a bar in one corner, the chairs and Formica table, gave it an air of an old café, including the drapes, somewhat faded of Aboriginals with woomera and spear. ‘That’s funny’, Terry pointed to a mural in the corner, where the declarations would be made for pommy personnel,’ that’s quaint’. There was above the console a mural with a bearded aboriginal elder and a spear, he was the same one as appeared on the one shilling stamp and the 1 dollar coin, and above the Woomera, a rocket,  and above the entablature, and the night sky, the caption, “ The Stone- Age welcomes the Space age’!

‘Nice touch that, Terry remarked,’ I know the bloke who painted that, went onto become a significant artist, you’ve probably never heard of him’. Quent who knew a bit about art challenged him. ‘C’mon Terry I reckon, I could give it a guess, was he famous’?

‘I mean internationally famous just in Australia’?.

First nations people represented as visually enhanced 3D holograms in exciting ‘Building Better Prisons’ initiative. Forthcoming NT Trade Fair NATO Summit.

‘Yep you’ve got it, his entire oeuvre can be summarised in just one word’,’ Bert’? Quent opined.  ‘Alby’? proffered Ces. “Nup none of them. This one was really. He didn’t need a pseudonym, he went by the name of Rolf’.

We left it at that and looked outside, Julian and Benny were inspecting the tank, and then they pointed to the concrete portal that covered the stairwell we’d emerged from some 500 yards distant. They seemed animated, and we weren’t sure what they were agitated about. But we could sense the urgency, something was bothering them, and as a consequence we were bothered.

‘The old bloke meme is a standard in both currency and appreciation of the ‘noble savage’ tradition of place-making’. ( NT Tourism,’ Building Better Prisons’ Brochure, forthcoming NATO summit)

Could it be Dutto and Sophie? Have they reached a rapprochement? Were they about to emerge, was our destiny once again to be dashed? Julian jumped onto the tank, it roared back into life, whilst Benny Boy, leapt up onto the side, and removed the tarpaulin from the twin Vickers that had lain idle for decades. With practiced hands he inspected the mechanism, and reached down into the storage bin at the rear of the turret and pulled out two belts of .303 ammunition, and as the smoke billowed from the exhausts, and the turret swung around to the stairwell, we assumed the worst. Sophie and Dutto were on their way, and as famously said there’s no anger more terrifying than the anger of an ex Queensland copper, and for Sophie? Anger is just another way of being Sophie.

Will this be the next last hurrah? Will they linger in Maralinga?

Rolf was instrumental in forging strong cultural ties between Australia and a diminished little country to the west of Europe. Seen here painting OWW, (Older White Woman) meme.  as part of NT Govt ‘Building Better Prisons’. Trade Fair NATO summit.

Find out in the next Centurion inspired episode; ‘Has the economy tanked when Sophie sits on the Fair Work Commission?”, or, “Tank tracks across the desert or a just dessert”

Dear reader, 

Once again, our heroes are in the thick of it. 

Julian arrives to rapturous applause as the headlining act at 2022s Glastonbury festival. He’ll be convering the Stone’s classic ‘Exile on Main Street’.

Do you think a lone Centurion tank could stop them? A tank that’s been sitting out on the dry dusty tarmac at Maralinga for over sixty years. A tank, though equipped with Lucas Electrics is still functioning? Just proof once again that military hardware manufactured to the highest exacting standards by Engineers from the United Kingdom are a reliable mainstay in times of WAR. Are those the drums of war you hear? Is it time with AUKUS to return to the glory days of Maralinga, Singapore and the shores of Gallipoli? We can only hope because fruitless blood and sacrifice are scrawled by every sage on histories  page to celebrate the failure of a grounded localised foreign policy above the obdurate requirements of standing in lock -step to whatever empire is running the joint. 

Portrait of Julian, Titled; ‘Exile’ rejected by Archibald prize judges as being; ‘too mainstream, white-bread, entitled and middle aged’.

But beyond the pan strategic, and the myopic with ‘Benny Boy’ at our heroes sides they know they are guarded by Australia’s most noble and decorated soldier. Strange as it seems after all they’ve been through, things just get stranger. Because, as you may recall from our last episode, emerging from the smoke, the cacophony, the roar of explosive devices and the great cloud of dust and smoke that gave our heroes cover as they made a run for it under Benny’s barking orders, they find themselves in the relative safety of the old Maralinga air terminal. And to their shock, and utter amazement they overhear a conversation. And incredibly it turns out to be a familiar voice. But can it be who they think it is? It’s just too improbable, but then ever since this sagea began the probability co -efficient has been thrown on its head. 

So let’s throw another improbability, like ‘Clean Coal’ or a ‘working federal ICAC’ on the barby, and enthral to the high stakes behind the scenes. Whilst we know that we are no closer in finding who the nefarious villain was who so cruelly defiled our Tea -lady Miss Culthorpe whilst she was on secondment as an intern in our nations parliament. 

Read on… 

Vlad, and Vlod, Could they STILL be friends?

Incredibly, the two of them were just slapping each other on the back, and laughing,  They clearly had been great mates for years, Benny Boy offered Julian a smoke, and Julian gave Benny Boy an Ecuadorian Cigar.  To see these two most improbably different individuals carrying on gave us hope. Hope that perhaps the same could be done on the international stage. Was that foolish to dream and yearn for a better geo-politik?  Vlodomir and Vladimir could be friends? The same could be achieved between Xi and Joe, and even in a pinch, the same could happen between Scomo and Macron though that seemed pushing it just a little too far.. 

‘How the fuck are ya’?, Benny Guffawed.  ‘Well pretty good since the time we shared that laptop at the Fat Ladies, and whaddabout the night out in Seattle when we were both seconded to the CIA, undercover to investigate Alexanders trip to Washington? And the tapes’!!

Emanuelle and Scotty, in friendship we trust.

They both convulsed with laughter. ‘How were we to know he was seriously into bondage as well as cross dressing, and then’, Julian who was in tears of laughter, his pasty face flecked with dust and steams of tears, inchoate, convulsive tears; ‘and then George Brandis walked in’ .. They collapsed again….’Well if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck’! Once again Julian and Benny Boy collapsed in fits of laughter, It seemed incongruous, one moment we were expected to get slotted, and now watching two comics going through their routines, ‘AAAgggh. Hha ha hhah’! They convulsed with laughter, clearly our bravest soldier and Asutralia’s most infamous leaker had some snidger times together, and more than that it was obvious to blind Freddy that though poles apart they were great mates. 

For us we were just perplexed and happy. Happy that we had Benny on our side, undoubtedly a man of courage and conviction, and also we had the smartest and arguably naughtiest man on our side too,. With Julian’s smarts in intelligence and publicity, we were sure to find out who defiled our tea-lady, and perhaps in a pinch even put an end to the evil plot by Sophie and Dutto to sell Australia off to overseas interests, not that there was much left to sell. 

Julian inspects the ‘underground megaphone’ sound system before going on stage.

It was Ces who broke the ice, ‘Ok Benny aren’t you gonna introduce him to us’?, Benny wiped the tears of joy from his eyes and said, ‘Well you know him but we are great mates, turned out both of us were working behind the scenes in Afghanistan, and after several sessions at the Fat Lady’s Arms we knew that whatever happened, we would resist’

‘Resist what’? Quent asked, ‘To resist the temptation to be dull, boring and  normal’, Benny replied with a grim look of determination. 

‘Oh…But I thought, I thought’, he pointed to Julian, still puffing on one of the Camels Terry had bought along, Ces was about to mention to Julian that perhaps he’d better look after his health, but decided against it….. ‘aren’t you meant to be in jail’?

‘Yeah, meant to have been in chokey for years’! Julian answered phlegmatically as if to say, in a sneering tone, ‘And what’s it to you? 

Studio portrait of Julian utilising ‘the Cloud’ for pre- publicity.

Ces was undeterred; ‘but I saw photos of you in chokey’,

‘Yeah mate that’s just a hologram. Even the Queen uses em now, and I’m actually working for AUKUS. The whole extradition thing is a sham, as they know I’m too valuable since Snowden took the Gold pass to Moscow, to have hanging around, and besides’, he playfully punched Benny in the Ribs ‘ with mates like these who could resist’? 

Who could resist?

Juiian praises the ‘Health and fitness regime at H.M Prison Belmarsh.

 Our world had turned upside down, with Julian and Benny working alongside, in cahoots, black was white and truth was stranger than fiction.  But is fiction all there is? Find out in the next compelling episode,  ‘Assanged and you’re out’, or ‘Is extradition just another way of saying I still call Australia Home’? 

Once again another scintillating piece for our scribe from the near north west frontier, in which the people obligingly prevail to turn the prison turnstiles. And from down here it’s looking good for prisons generally as we are reliably informed that the Department of Justice in the Police State has now grown to bigger than manufacturing will ever be. Perhaps it may nudge gas and clean coal as our biggest industry? Yes folks the wages bill alone for Department of Justice peck-sniffs has grown to several billions, and that’s just to keep mates engaged, at between 175 to 400 k on warming arses, filling in forms, going on junkets and making sure that there’s no trouble-makers like that tiresome bloke Assange leaking. No leaks from Victoria, cos in Victoria they indulge in the ‘correct use’ of corruption to ensure that you are safe.   There’s a rumour that Assange might be freed, but pursuant to a memorandum of understanding and commercial in confidence clauses for private prisons we are unable to print the negotiations at this stage. But if you go to the Port Phillip Prison,  Main Corrections facility, Admin centre, Sir Henry Bolte Wing, turn left at the Laurie Connell Leadership and Institute of Excellence Resource Wing, take the lift at the Fifth Floor, turn as instructed to a portrait of Her Majesty the Queen Cell, sign on the visitors register, pass the facility reception annexe, and then descend the flight of steps adjacent the Obeid Family Resource Centre, block 12, room five, you can see it printed on the back of a white board. (Bring your invisible ink ultra violet reading glasses and morse set for transcription).

There’s hope, from Frank, this questioning of Sovereign Risk. We looked at our portrait of the Queen painted in her Wattle Dress and it still stands proudly over the telly and just to the right of the flying ducks. No chance of Sovereign risk at pcbycp…

Frank writes……

G’day,

My friend Quentin Cockburn devoted his last entry in the Passive Complicity by Cockburn and Poole blog to Sovereign Risk  http://www.pcbycp.com/

Quentin’s style could be described as over the top, farcical fantasy, but don’t be fooled. If you scratch the surface, you will be rewarded with some perspicacious nuggets.

Not only has Quentin submerged some pearls of wisdom in the shallows of a non-sequitur sea but he is modest to boot and hides behind the anonymity and safety of a pseudonym.

Quentin Cockburn arrives at Yuendumu C. 2013

Quentin has visited Yuendumu and his perception and grasp of the assimilationist agenda that we are subjected to is awe inspiring.

The word ‘sovereign’ is used in a multitude of ways. My favourite is that sovereignty that Australia’s First People never ceded.

Quentin and Ces’s arrival at Yuendumu in 2013. They discuss accommodation options at the Police Complex

Then there is that tourist mecca, Sovereign Hill in Ballarat. My appetite for irony was satisfied some years ago when a gold exploration company was prevented from drilling in the Ballarat gold field. The company wanted to drill under a heritage site. The heritage site being century old gold mining workings.

As part of the worldwide energy crisis precipitated by the Ukraine war, in Australia, which with Qatar is the world’s equal largest exporter of LNG, much focus has fallen on the huge profits generated by multinational companies. Only 4% of gas production in Australia is locally owned.

Quentin’s arrival at Yuendumu is now a literary classic in Ukraine, but scarcely known in his native land.

Through price transference (overseas companies charging excessive interest to their Australian subsidiaries), these large multinationals don’t pay any tax to Australia.
One of the main arguments presented to desist from hitting the industry with super profit taxes is its negative effect on sovereign risk.

Heaven forbid that we discourage these multinationals from investing in Australia and further tightening their grip on our resources. We definitely should not increase the risk for these companies that Australia may claim a share of their loot back!

 Meanwhile at the Organisation of American States summit in Los Angeles, Cuba was not invited.

They don’t know what they’re missing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wAoBVr-_pI

See ya’s

The humble Police Complex at Yuendumu at the time of Quentin’s arrival, before it was enhanced some 20 million later with ‘state of the art killing facilities, courtesy of highly trained officers inducted from our recent success in Afghanistan’, (NT Department of Justice recruitment brochure).

Frank

This episode of pcbycp is proudly sponsored by ‘Clive of India’ curry powder. Now available in handy ‘Sovereign Risk’ sachets and ‘Tyranny’ Tablet form.

Dear reader, 

Whatever we can say about Australia’s energy market, we can rest assured that we, as a trading partner  to great GLOBAL ENTITIES, we have preserved ourselves from the perils of  ‘Sovereign Risk’. 

What is sovereign risk you may ask? 

A great read for executives of Exxon and Shell. Foreword by Alexander Downer, (Lord Downer of East Timor).

It’s nothing to do with Prince Andrew, or the vexed question of Megan and Harry. Though we must admit these two pillars of our constitutional monarchy stand proud of just what can be done to preserve meaning in politics.  Sovereign risk is the deep fear that we all share for not being nice to multi–nationals, who exploit our resources for obscene profit. Multi- nationals like Shell and Exxon who treat Australia in much the same way the East India Company treated Indians and India, as a cash- cow that kept giving. And whatever could be gained through theft, corruption and bloody mindedness was immaterial to the benefit of the host country. 

To dare question them for obscene levels of greed not seen since Cortez would put our  state at risk as a safe haven for investment. Indeed to even plead with them to pay just a pinch of tax and not gouge us as citizens who own the assets is a bridge too far… Just as to hope that our trio ably assisted by the master of the dark arts ‘Benny-Boy’ Roberts Smith, may escape from the web set by their twin nemesis Sophie and Dutto. Could anything be worse? ‘Worse and Worser’, as Alice used to say. 

Let’s hope that we don’t get a sensible energy market resolution soon, cos at the end of the day the shareholders deserve better in risky times, cos remember they’ve taken the risk. There is risk in owning a monopoly you know.  And as they say in the classics, ‘who dares wins’, well at least that’s what Benny Boy says. 

Clive warning the ungrateful Indians about ‘Sovereign Risk’.

We return to our saga….

Before they could say anything, Benny Boy had the matter in hand. With actions more deft than those employed rolling wops of cliffs he fished mechanically into his rucksack. His mighty hands emerged with a brace of smoke grenades.. We could tell cos they were labelled ‘Smoke Grenades’, and without whispering motioned to us to bolt for the terminal when he gave the signal. A smoke screen for cover was our only chance. And we weren’t going to hesitate, it was all we had. 

Indian Advert for Clive’s arrival at the Mughal Palace for the first limited overs match. Clive’s, ‘The Grifters’ won 345 to 12

The tank was now only fifty yards away, (we are grateful for the British Government. And their initiative as part of the Anglo Australian trade deal to bring back imperial measurements, an initiative based doubtless on sound economic principles). And we could see the bogies turning, screeching on under oiled bearings, and the tracks, clattering through the guides. It was now or never, and from Benny, ‘Now when I say RUN you RUN for the terminal.. Fer Fucksakes RUN FOR IT!!!!

We ran, and ran, and just looking behind us saw the tank, Benny and everything else dissolved into a puff of smoke. We expected to see the tank fire off a round, but nothing happened. Gaining the terminal building and pausing just long enough to salute and stand to attention in front of a portrait of Her Majesty. A youthful looking monarch just as Dargie painted her in 53. We ducked for cover, and hoped that whatever happened to the tank and Benny it would be over with swiftly. To our surprise what happened next baffled us!

Clive of India, bit like his namesake in Australia, but with pommy affectations.

Clive having a go at the Maharaja of Eyesore for not throwing the kitchen sink in with the loot.

Dargie’s famous potrait of the queen in her ‘wattle dress’. The artist wanted either a ‘Mallee Root’ or a ‘She-Oak’ portrait but was knocked back by royal decree.

There was a barely a sound. At first we were unaware of anything other than the need for safety. Then, the  rumbling of the tank and the whoosh of the grenades filled our ears.  All was lost from view as the smoke thick and all encompassing just gathered in a great white haze. The tank, its engine still purring disguised any hint of activity. Then  above the din, we heard a dull percussive hammering.  And as we crouched in anticipation of an explosion, a fire fight or anything, we knew that fearless to the last, Benny Boy was up to something. The clanging got louder, then we  heard a sound like an angle grinder. then, another sound. Strange at first but familiar. Eerily familiar, until we realised that above the din a soundtrack was playing the chorus to Rolfs greatest hit; ‘Two little Boys’. Whoever had the recording was an ardent Rolf Fan. That made us respect whatever or whoever it was within the tank, and acknowledge their taste and maturity of artistic preferment. Then, above the banging, above the recording and above the din of the angle grinder, the meteor engine, the smoke grenade, we could hear, the sound of talking. At first we couldn’t discern what the talking was about. It was some kind of discussion . And what profoundly shocked us it sounded friendly with the odd jocular aside and some laughter. It sounded to all intents and purposes  a good natured conversation.  We realised whoever it was in that tank was a colleague, improbably of Benny-Boy. And as the smoke cleared we saw who it was…..his hair bleached more white than the discarded bristles of a bleached dunny brush. He waved within the smoke, and to our shock we realised who it was. None other than the architect of all our woes with espionage and counter espionage. The visage, sickly, and clearly unhealthy of Australia’s most famous evil doer, Julian Assange. I whispered to Ces, ‘he’s not a messiah is he’? Ces chuckled his reply, ‘yes indeed he’s neither, he’s just a naughty boy’!

Ben and Julian were embracing. It seemed uncanny and not quite right. But there they were, diametrically opposed on the political spectrum, but clearly great mates, and to our satisfaction waving for us to come over. 

Is this really Julian Assange? Isn’t he doing life in chokey back in the old country?  Isn’t he in a pommy place of penile purgatory for purposes  prejudicial to the pursuit of plausible prestidigitations? We can only conject, much as we must conject as to how Benny-Boy and Julian have anything in common. But conject we must, for as the day is long at Maralinga, the light of a thousand suns cannot uncover the truth behind who it was who defiled our tea-lady in the corridors of the Federal Parliament. And perhaps Julian improbably, may hold the key… or at the very least the key to the drinks cabinet in the Ecuadorian Embassy!

The East India Companys exploitation of the Indian people made it possible to build grand buildings, like the one the Duke of Buckingham gave to that emigre German Family from Saxe Coburg West Brunswick

Will morse be enough to uncover the purpose of the lone tank? Or will some other code be required to save our hapless heroes? Find out in our next indecipherable episode; ‘Is that morse you tap on your sweaty palms’? or…..’is that a morse key in your pocket or are you just pleased to sue me?

This edition of pcbycp proudly sponsored by Lucas Electrics.

Dear reader, incredibly, our heroes are still ALIVE!

Will Benny Boy be enough to save them?  Or is the stand-off with the Centurion their final curtain? Curtains or drapes, there’s still a chance, and with a chance, they may yet prevail. Read on for another curtain raising episode deep from within the irradiated wastes of Maralinga, where you don’t need a reading lamp to read at night. 

Implausibly though it may sound, our heroes are still alive.  Whether by fate, circumstance or sheer bloody mindedness they prevail, And whilst they prevail, there is still HOPE!

We sought sponsorship from HRH Prince Andrew, but he was busy installing a fernery atop Fergie’s head. (HRH points to Alex Downer in fishnets whilst preparing Fergie’s equipage, something he learnt in the Falklands)

But is this hope a forlorn hope? Or just another played-out routine that’s gonna end up being hopeless! Like Coalition Climate policy. That hopeless? Or perhaps just a sensible regulated energy market, that doesn’t gouge ordinary citizens? Perhaps somewhere in between?

They prevail, and whilst they still exult in their freedom, there is cause for cautious optimism. 

We return to the standoff between our heroes and their protector, Australia’s most decorated and renowned soldier, ‘Benny-Boy’ Roberts Smith. Will this be their last stand? 

‘Its moving’! Terry exclaimed, ‘And it’s coming towards us, what are we gonna do’? 

Our then Foreign Minister performing; ‘Daddy wouldn’t buy me a Bow-Wow’, at the annual Tory cross-dress ball.

‘I dunno, stand still and see if we can communicate with it, perhaps it’s here as a force of protection? There’s only one way to find out’! And quick as a flash Benny Boy knelt down, threw his back pack down and fished around inside the utility pockets before removing a small mirror. With deftness of touch trained in the field he orientated the mirror towards the sun and with the palm of his other hand, began to flap, (Not tap) out a signal by semaphore, by primitive hand – held heliograph, a message in morse. 

Alex gifting Jose Ramos Horta a signed copy of his rendition of; ‘Daddy wouldn’t buy me a Bow- Wow’, John Howard at rear checking to see if the little bloke has been bugged properly by ASIO.

Alex’s specially adapted espionage attache case. Two seemingly harmless ‘transmitter dolls’ named ‘Pistol’ and ‘Boo’.

Dear reader, though it is not commonly known, morse us still used to this day by Australia’s foremost intelligence agencies, the Signals Directorate, and management of Crown Resorts Barangaroo, to transmit high level intelligence information vital to Australia’s interests. Because of this we at pcbycp have decoded top secret transmissions from the same sources that bugged the East Timor Embassy during the Timor Sea oil negotiations. We are happy to say that then, as now we see Alexander Downer still at work for the Federal Government in giving us the edge on how tin-pot nations to our north whom we regularly exploit, screw and bully may be swayed by an evil and militaristic China. As it is well known that our forward defence policy in curbing an angry, militaristic domineering evil is dependent upon patronising and dismissing their petty concerns in the interests of the coal, oil and defence lobby.  We asked, (via morse) what plans our former Foreign Minister had with the ‘Five-Eyes’ arrangement but he was employed elsewhere as stand in for HRH Prince Andrew for the Order of the Garter Investiture in London. Once again proof of his far- reaching vision and self-sacrifice. We can only hope that his unstinting work is amply rewarded to further postings of real value in the future.  We return to our saga……

A job for Alex post politics?

‘I dunno, it’s still moving, and I don’t like the look of this’. Under Benny’s guidance they stood stock still and watched transfixed as the lumbering ponderous hulk of the Centurion rumbled quietly towards them. They could see the rich black smoke issuing from the exhaust as the Meteor, possibly over worn by years of service burnt off a crude mixture of oil, petrol and soot. Clearly, it needed an overhaul but was still after all these years  still serviceable. Ces scratched his chin, and exclaimed, ‘Jeez this disproves the unreliability of Lucas Electrics, after all these years still functioning, I don’t get it’?

 ‘Its simple’! exclaimed Terry, ‘there aint any rain. No water can get into it’. 

As a GG, to carry in the tradition of John Kerr?

‘You’re right that’s the spirit of Lucas Electrics, they weren’t designed for hot dry and arid environments, yet they were guaranteed to fail in wet ones. Is this a paradox at work? Perhaps if Lucas had only sold products to arid environments they may still be in common use-age’?

‘Yes Terry piped in;  and perhaps then, the Empire may have prevailed’? 

At the mention of Empire Benny- Boy paused in setting up his signalling equipment and reverentially kissed the service ribbon, the scarlet ribbon that signalled the highest attainment for valour, courage and decency,  ‘Yep I liked the sequel, ‘The Empire Strikes Back, to whit his peers politely being of a mature disposition, chose to politely ignore. 

To strut once again, a COLOSSUS on the WORLD STAGE!

‘Yes I see what you’re coming at’! Quent opined; ‘Perhaps as the fall of the Roman Empire was attributed to lead pipes and the Empire being a ‘Denarii short of the Sestertius’, if Lucas had only distributed to hot and arid climes, the North West Frontier would still be in our hands?And those parts of the Suez lost in 56, and those bits of the darkest bits of Africa’? Their collective minds boggled as the ‘What-if’s’ just grew, like the Coalition’s urge to go FULL-ON Nuclear since they lost the Federal Election.

Indeed, there was a hypothetical construct that needed teasing out, but sadly there was precious little time. Was Lucas the downfall of the Empire? Or was it something much more insidious, we hadn’t the time to ruminate nor hypothecate.

‘I dunno Ces whispered, it’s still headed right for us, unless we do something. 

But could they do something? 

Or to harness and nurture the souls of those in torment who have been dispossessed and flung into the wasteland of oblivion? What destiny awaits? And do we care?

Was something, all they had? 

Find out in our next enigmatic episode, ‘Did Lucas prompt the fall of Empire in its hour of need?, or ‘was ever in the field of human conflict so little dis-owned by so many?

This episode is sponsored by Camel Cigarettes!

We return to our saga

Dear reader as you may recall……. we left our heroes exalting in  the fresh taste of freedom. Freedom, that for all intents and purposes, though irradiated at Maralinga, is nonetheless freedom of sorts and better, way better than being mere prawns to the evil machinations of Dutto and Sophie. 

Terry poses as a ‘Camel-man’ in the olden days!

But, as Benny-Boy, arguably Australia’s bravest soldier ever, debates the meaning of a life without blowing up things and rolling wops off cliffs, he’s gladdened by the prospect of another chance to have a crack. And be of use. Not to his countrymen and the glory of ANZAC, but to help his mates Terry, Ces and Quent who he’s grown fond of.

Camel has a proud reputation of KILLING since 1915

And so we find them at the threshold, Benny-Boy once their jailer, is now their protector. Just as Sophie the most powerful woman in politics is on the board of the Fair Work Commission to help lowly paid workers not loose their wages through the insidious creep of inflation. Because Sophie, may have EMPATHY! Indeed although it is mere conjecture it must be said that even psychopathic killers can be fond of their pets, their favourite hunting knife, their AK47 and evince deep compassion for those things that have special relevance to them. So, it is not improbable that Sophie, the woman of case-hardened steel may possess hidden from public view her entire life, a tincture of ‘Compassion”! And this carefully guarded secret may be unleashed and at any time to astound and confound the public at large and prove now that Dutto reigns supreme a softer voice within conservative ranks.  Because,  there is still a shed of compassion at large within the ranks of those who choose conservatism and bludgeoning punishment, and ROBODEBT as a first principle above empathy and understanding. 

We live in hope, but what of our heroes, ? 

Camel sponsored the ‘Camel Corps’, a glorious annal from the pages of ‘ANZAC’!

We return to the irradiated sands of Maralinga and prepare for a stand off with a lone Centurion Tank. 

‘Bugger me, it really is a Centurion” Benny stroked the stubble on his chin and fingered the pistol grip of his AK 47, the one that had served him so faithfully at Tarren Kwot. ‘I dunno, the turret may turn and the barrel may move , but it’s arguable as to whether there’s anything down the spout, I mean 105 mm ammo is hard to come by these days.’ 

Camels liked to wash down there Camel’s with a flagon of beer. Seen here at Beersheba.

‘But can we risk it’? Quent enquired nervously. ‘I mean it’s been sitting out here for over sixty years and whoever is in it surely must have better things to do than just sit around waiting for us’? ’Yeah, but, nah but, with the “Drums of War” beckoning, we have no idea who it may be, since Andrew Robb took that job with Land-bridge and took the 750k a year salary for selling the Darwin port things aint been the same, We’ve been on high alert’. 

‘Boney’ pioneered Camels in Egypt as the ‘Ship of the desert’ as he’d lost all his real ships in Aboukir Bay.

‘High alert’? Quipped Terry, ‘I’ve been on high alert since the fifties and I can tell ya, nothing ever happened’. Terry lit up another Camel and passed the packet round. Although there was a stationary tank, muzzle pointing to us, Terry still had time for another fag. It was something quintessentially laconic and Australian about that. Just as our forebears had remembered to have another pipe-full of Havelock and swig of whiskey before clearing the land of native stragglers. 

‘Yeah’, Benny replied sternly,’ but things are different nowadays, the feds have put in very severe restrictions on foreign capital acquisitions’. 

A little know postscript, some Camels were patriarch white supremacist racists who aided the Confederacy in their lost cause so they could develop ‘Replacement Theory’.

‘Like what’? enquired Ces. 

‘Well for example, you have to prove on the documentation before you buy into Australia that you’re not laundering money, have no links to the CCP and don’t have a recent, (at least two weeks) association with the High rollers Lounge at either Crown Casino, Crown Resorts or Barangaroo. And, as a final stipulation that you have never had dealings with Mick Gatto, Sam Dastyari, or Andrew Robb in the past seven days! They’re pretty strict regulations, and it shows that Australia is prepared to stand for PRINCIPLE’!

‘But is principle enough’? Ces sounded exasperated by his own circumstance, ‘we’ve been the past year trying to find out who the evil penis wielding oppressor was who so cruelly defiled our tea- lady Ms Culthorpe as a parliamentary intern and we are still no closer. How much is principle worth, when at the end we’re stymied by powerful forces determined to keep the truth from the public?. It’s all, Ces, sighed with a measure of heart- felt exasperation,’ it’s all a bit Witness K or Julian Assange’. ‘Assange what’? enquired Terry? ‘Oh Assange, the bloke who got done for telling the truth’.

‘ Oh’ Terry replied, ‘that can get you into a whole lotta trouble, and the worst of it is, once the truth is out there’s no telling what damage it might do’. 

John Curtin saved Australia through the deft use of Camel’s and whiskey.

Just then the tank, immobile, daunting, and mysterious began to move. 

Has the tank got one up the spout, or is it just on manoeuvres? Who is inside the tank and why is it there in the first place? Find out in our next tracked vehicle episode, ‘A phalanx short of a Centurion’, or ‘Quo vadis ici Vladimir?

Ms Culthorpe, (our tea-lady) before she was seconded to our federal parliament as an intern was an expert on morse.

We return to our saga

Dear reader as you may recall……. we left our heroes exalting in  the fresh taste of freedom. Freedom, that for all intents and purposes, though irradiated at Maralinga, is nonetheless freedom of sorts and better, way better than being mere prawns to the evil machinations of Dutto and Sophie. 

Terry was also no slouch in morse, see here converting ‘Drums of War’ into Morse!

But, as ‘Benny-Boy’, arguably Australia’s bravest soldier ever, debates the meaning of a life without blowing up things and rolling wops off cliffs, he’s gladdened by the prospect of another chance to have a crack. And be of use. Not to his countrymen and the glory of ANZAC, but to help his mates Terry, Ces and Quent who he’s grown fond of.

And so we find them at the threshold, Benny-Boy once their jailer, is now their protector. Just as Sophie the most powerful woman in politics is on the board of the Fair Work Commission to help lowly paid workers not loose their wages through the insidious creep of inflation. Because Sophie, hidden from public view her entire life, may have a tincture of ‘Compassion”! And this carefully guarded secret may be unleashed and at any time to astound and confound the public at large and prove now that Dutto reigns supreme, there is still a shred of compassion at large within the ranks of those who choose conservatism and bludgeoning punishment, and ROBODEBT as a first principle above empathy and understanding. 

NBN upgrade, three Morse Keys in One!

We live in hope, but what of our heroes, ? 

We return to the irradiated sands of Maralinga and prepare for a stand off with a lone Centurion Tank. 

‘Bugger me, it really is a centurion” Benny stroked the stubble on his chin and fingered the pistol grip of his AK 47, the one that had served him so faithfully at Tarren Kwot. ‘I dunno, the turret may turn and the barrel may move , but it’s arguable as to whether there’s anything down the spout, I mean 105 mm ammo is hard to come by these days.’ 

‘But can we risk it’? Quent enquired nervously. ‘I mean it’s been sitting out here for over sixty years and whoever is in it surely must have better things to do than just sit around waiting for us’?

Ces enjoys one of Terry’s Camels whilst tapping out ‘Drums of War’ for transfer to heliograph.

‘Yeah, but, nah but, with the “Drums of War” beckoning, we have no idea who it may be, since Andrew Robb took that job with Land-bridge and took the 750k a year salary for selling the Darwin port things aint been the same, We’ve been on high alert’. 

‘High alert’? Quipped Terry, ‘I’ve been on high alert since the fifties and I can tell ya, nothing ever happened’. 

‘Yeah’, Benny replied sternly,’ but things are different nowadays, the feds have put in very severe restrictions on foreign capital acquisitions’. 

‘Like what’? enquired Ces. 

Young Ces practising morse on the family farm beyond the black stump.

‘Well for example, you have to prove on the documentation before you buy into Australia that you’re not laundering money, have no links to the CCP and don’t have a recent, (at least two weeks) association with the High rollers Lounge at either Crown Casino, Crown Resorts or Barangaroo. And, as a final stipulation that you have never had dealings with Mick Gatto, Sam Dastyari, or Andrew Robb in the past seven days! They’re pretty strict regulations, and it shows that Australia is prepared to stand for PRINCIPLE’!

‘But is principle enough’? Ces sounded exasperated by his own circumstance, ‘we’ve been the past year trying to find out who the evil penis wielding oppressor was who so cruelly defiled our tea- lady Ms Culthorpe as a parliamentary intern and we are still no closer. How much is principle worth, when at the end we’re stymied by powerful forces determined to keep the truth from the public? It’s all, Ces, sighed with a measure of heart- felt exasperation,’ it’s all a bit Witness K or Julian Assange’. ‘Assange what’? enquired Terry? ‘Oh Assange, the bloke who got done for telling the truth’.

Young Quent, lacked morse proficiency so practised on ‘Drums of War’ instead.

‘ Oh’ Terry replied, ‘that can get you into a whole lotta trouble, and the worst of it is, once the truth is out there’s no telling what damage it might do’. 

Just then the tank, immobile, daunting, and mysterious began to move. 

‘Its moving’! Terry exclaimed, ‘And it’s coming towards us, what are we gonna do’? 

Mike Pezullo, uses hand-signals and whispering to invoke via semaphore ‘Drums of War’!

‘I dunno, stand still and see if we can communicate with it, perhaps it’s here as a force of protection? There’s only one way top find out’! And quick as a flash Benny Boy knelt down, threw his back pack down and fished around inside the utility pockets before removing a small mirror. With deftness of touch trained in the field he orientated the mirror towards the sun and with the palm of his other hand, began to flap, (Not tap) out a signal by semaphore, by primitive hand – held heliograph, a message in morse. 

NBN roll- out in WA will be made by real injuns. Using real ‘Drums of War’!

Will morse be enough to uncover the purpose of the lone tank? Or will some other code be required to save our hapless heroes? Find out in our next indecipherable episode; ‘Is that morse you tap on your sweaty palms’? or…..’Is that a morse key in your pocket or are you just pleased to sue me?

Is it a Balloon Juice led recovery? What is Balloon Juice?

Dear reader, implausibly, we return to our saga. A long running saga?

Yes indeed, but not quite as long as Amber versus Johnnie, or even as long as Prince Andrew, or for that matter most members of the Royal family who’ve been filling gossip pages for years. Do we need a Royal family? Of course we do, otherwise we’d have nothing to believe in, and in times of war nothing to  DIE FOR!!!

Chinless wonders did you say? 

Is That  a slur on a great German family who just happen to live at Buckingham Palace when it’s not Deer season, Grouse season, Fox season, Horse racing season, and Visiting Tin- Pot nations still beholden to the spurious notion of Commonwealth Season?

Commonwealth? You might also ask.

Yes that’s those nation states still quite happy to have their natural assets hived off by multi nationals for obscene profits and those same corporations who pay no tax. 

A rort? 

The Coalition Climate Policy aka the ‘Crazy Gang’!

Is this GAS you’re talking about?

Not really just another example of the singular benefits of privatisation and the trickle down effect. And besides the Queen is 96, and there a swag of Australian Aged-Care providers who’ve got an eye on the family jewels. They could turn even Her Majesty’s frailty into a profit. It’s a rent seeking economy, and we’ve all got so much to gain from gas led recovery. Because at the end of the day it’ll be gas that fires up the crematoria. 

That’ll turn those tangible assets into carbon credits. 

Coalition Climate and Energy Policy report.

Give credit where it’s due. But what of our heroes? There’s a long trudge to the Maralinga aerodrome terminal and whilst they walk, freed just for a few hours from Australia’s most powerfully well-connected influencers, Sophie and Dutto, they debate for the first time the benefits of a gas-led recovery. 

We return to our saga……….

‘I dunno’, Benny-Boy was waxing philosophical, ‘we’ve come all this way, and with my skill gained on active service in Afghanistan, and sometimes’, he paused; ‘I wonder what it’s all for’? 

This hesitation from Australia’s bravest and most decorated soldier, a hero to kiddies across Australia and a beacon for Boy Scouts, ‘School Cadets, ‘ Level crossing supervisors on what heights can be achieved by active service in civilising Savages came as a bit of a shock.

‘Whaddya mean Benny’? 

A Gas Led Recovery?

It was Ces who tried to mollify Benny-boys soul searching. A soldier who does soul-searching can be a dangerous thing as Ces had seen service in Vietnam, and decided way back then that it was best to just get on with the job. 

‘I dunno’! Benny sadly said, ‘It’s just that I’d been thinking’. 

‘Thinking’? quipped Quent; ‘aint that a bit of a liability for a soldier’?

‘Yeah, but nah, but yeah, I’ve been thinking about what the point of it all is. I mean apart from looking after your arses, now we’re up on top I wonder what my mission, what my purpose will be in ordinary life’? 

‘You call this ordinary’? quipped Terry.  Here we are pushed from arsehole to buggery and you’re wondering about ‘purpose ?

Nev had the POWER to lead a GAS-LED RECOVERY!

‘Yeah, Ces added, ‘I’m sure there’ll be another disaster round the corner, and look at it this way’ you’ve saved us time and again, you used to be our gaoler, and now you’re our saviour. How good is that’?

‘Yeah’, Benny replied distractedly, ‘I know all that, but I’m used to being in the field and this walking with you lot, excuse me for saying it, ordinary blokes, just reminds me of the transition I will have to make away from the excitement of blowing things up and rolling natives off cliffs. I mean excuse me for saying it, but there’s not as much excitement’. 

‘Don’t worry Benny, there’ll be plenty of excitement soon enough, but for the moment just relish the peace. Isn’t that what war is all about? To enjoy the peace’? 

‘Spose’, Benny replied mournfully, ‘it’s just that would you believe it? From war good can come!

‘What? 

What good ever came from war’? Ces expostulated

‘I dunno’ Benny replied, ‘Galipolli’?

Barnaby’s head is so full of GAS it could EXPLODE!!

‘Galipolli, it was a fucken disaster’!

‘Yeah but it taught us mateship’! 

‘Bollocks, it became a legend because from start to finish it was a fuck-up like the entire First World War, what did it ever achieve’? 

‘I dunno’, said Benny, ‘it gave a lot of blokes medals’.

‘What the,  whats the use of medals?

‘I dunno. ‘People like getting medals makes em feel useful’.

‘Tawdry trinkets, that’s all they are’.. 

‘What, are you saying my V.C is a tawdry trinket’? 

‘No I’m not saying that, you earnt yours fair and square for rolling wops off cliffs, but the other stuff like AO’s and that rubbish’! 

In China theres over 1000 ways to say ‘EXPLODE’ and one of them is Barnaby!

‘Yeah, Im talking about war medals, 

‘Yes but Benny wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t have wars on the first place’? 

Benny’s stunned silence came as a silence. 

He hadn’t thought of a world without war and you could tell, that for the bravest soldier it made him quietly fearful. Though distinguished and brave his inner fear was palpable.  We’d discovered Benny’s  human side. It was deeply touching. 

Aussie Diggers investigate MASS TRANSIT in Vietnam

‘Well Benny don’t lose sight, cos look over there’. 

They were within a hundred yards, (we are thankful for the British Government in granting us the right to re-install imperial measurements) and sure enough behind the dilapidated terminal building stood a lone tank. It was an old Centurion tank left over for the fifties. You could hear the Morris flat four whirring away inside. If you didn’t know its the flat four as well as the twelve cylinder Meteor that operates the turret and the internals. And with barely a squawk, we noticed the turret turning, and the forlorn 105 mm gun point upwards, correct itself and then point straight towards us. 

‘Well Benny’, Terry said, ‘Your dreams have been answered I think we need your expertise’. 

And as though it never happened Benny’s worried face changed into a beaming grin, ‘Good-oh, we’re back in business’. 

What business? Will Benny lead our heroes to a Gas-Led Recovery?

Gorgon is Gas? Or us Gorgon another word for Tax haven?

Will it be funny business, or risky business?

Gorgons can turn you to STONE! A Stone-LED recovery? A Tax haven led recovery?

Find out in our next gas-led sequel:  ‘Is that gas you’re emitting fully franked’? Or ‘gaslighting works well in non regulated environments like our Federal Parliament ’

John Wyndham’s book was a bit like Lithium in that once ‘discovered’ as ‘useful’, it set off a chain reaction with unforeseen consequences.

Once again our indefatigable scribe for the distant North West Frontier, presents us with another fascinating insight into what makes Lithium tick.

From personal experience it’s what made my mother ‘tock’. For she was for a near lifetime dependent upon Lithium to stop her going looney. For being a manic depressive she was susceptible to stratospheric highs, and abysmal lows. Sounds a bit like Lithium these days will create another bi-polar disorder on the trans national front and a bit like John Wyndham’s; ‘Trouble with Lichen’, we’ll a be in a serious bit of trouble as everyone wants a piece of the action.  This piece is praiseworthy, cos not only does it tell us about Lithium, but it’s an introduction to Spodumene, Tantalite, and Pegmatite! These are not made up words they truly do exist, and if Frank hadn’t mentioned them wed all be just that little bit impoverished.  So in praise and post-script for a man called ‘Assange’ of which we’ve never heard of there’s food for thought. Read on…….

In Wyndham’s book, the properties of Lithium kept ‘ageing at bay’. Arguably very similar to Lithium keeping ‘Beijing at bay;.(it’s a poor joke we agree).

Amigos,

The world’s largest production of lithium is currently from pegmatite at the Greenbushes mine in Western Australia which is operated by a joint venture between Australian, Chinese and U.S. interests. The second largest producer of lithium is Chile from the salt flats of the Atacama region. The potential serious deleterious effect of the Chilean operations on the hydrology and local indigenous population is another story.

Mad scientists all over the world extol the virtues of Lithium!

In the 1970’s some Mt.Allan residents collected a kilogram of tantalite for Yuendumu Mining Company (YMC) from the surface at Twin Dams on Mt.Denison Station. From memory we sold it for an at the time not to be sneezed

‘Not only will it keep humanoid androids charged for longer, but it’ll stop em going crazy’!

at $130.

Photo of a huge beryl crystal at the Bumpus Pegmatite, Maine U.S.A.

The murder of dingo trapper Fred Brooks after whom the Soak was named, precipitated the Coniston Massacre in 1928, only a year after Harry Bumpus had opened his quarry on the other side of the world.

‘Just think, it sweeps’ it cleans, it does the dishes and it’s fully rechargeable’!

In the 1970’s during our stint in the Pilbara I visited an abandoned camp not far from Roebourne where beryl had been manually concentrated by Don McLeod’s Nomads Pty.Ltd.
To the best of my knowledge, beryl because of its use as a moderator in nuclear power plants had been declared a strategic mineral and the Nomads had taken advantage of this.

The Pilbara is an increasingly significant producer of lithium, which back then no-one gave a thought to. The only significant deposit of lithium being developed outside of Western Australia is Core Lithium’s Finniss project a mere 88km by road south of Darwin Port (leased to Chinese interests).

Early prototype Lithium charged autobots were unreliable and ugly.

In the last few years Bolivia experienced serious political upheavals which included killing of pro-Morales protesters by police. President Evo Morales was deposed to a significant extent resulting from allegations of electoral fraud spearheaded by the Organisation of American States (OAS). In 2018 the OAS’s General Secretariat’s budget was $US 85M. U.S.A.’s contribution to this budget was $US 50 M.

Europe’s largest potential lithium resources are on the…. wait for it… Ukrainian Shield.

Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action. (Ian Fleming)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzsILbNB-iQ

Chau,

Frank

Probably too late but you may be interested:

GALWAY ALLIANCE AGAINST WAR

A reminder that we are running a zoom event tomorrow at 2pm Irish time countering the NATO/US narrative on Ukraine, plus the accompanying blanket censorship and McCarthyism. The line-up includes Noam Chomsky, John Pilger, George Galloway, MEPs Clare Daly and Mick Wallace plus two Irish journalists Harry Browne and Eoin Ó Murchú.

Recent versions of hominid ‘auto-bots; are much improved, but still require empathy deficit re-programming.

 

Organised by the Galway Alliance Against War and Free Assange Ireland

Meeting title: “If wars can be started by lies, peace can be started by truth.” 

Topic: Peace can be started by by Truth
Time: Jun 4, 2022 14:00 DublinJoin Zoom Meeting
https://us06web.zoom.us/j/83983486949?pwd=RjdoOUxzb2x3d2pIOHNObEtRMWNuUT09