Granny Killers keep us SAFE!

Tasering grannies is just the beginning.

Serious criminals come in all shapes and sizes.

After the police special response team killed Kumanji Walker and made ‘Camp Rolfe’, (formerly Yuendumu) SAFE, it is pleasing and a source of great reassurance to know that they are now actively targeting grannies. Criminally inclined Grannies who allegedly have held knitting needles and kitchen knives in a dangerous and aggressive manner. The tasering of another dangerous law-breaker in a nursing home ensures that for other 95-year-olds, there is a clear message. Mess with law enforcement and you will be DEAD!

And why? Because you DESERVE TO DIE!

WE applaud the bold, brave and public ordained officer who tasered the 95-year-old. She was allegedly, a threat to PUBLIC SAFETY! And we say this (sub-judice prior to the coroner’s findings) because she was seen to be operating an unregistered stroller.  And it was said by eyewitnesses that her  knitting needles and kitchen knife posed an existential threat to the peace and well-being of the entire aged care sector. 

Our representative from Aged Care services, (former manager St Basils) told us;

 ‘Yep, Nah, right, but too right, it’s knitting needles one day and nukes the next. 

Some are killed for ‘being on a train whilst black’.

This is how Vladimir got away with Ukraine. If he hadn’t stolen the bag of smarties as a kiddie he wouldn’t have got the taste for it. Now he’s on the rampage there’s no stopping. And let’s face it, we killed off four score at St Basils for their own good during lockdown to keep em safe. But you can’t be sure with every aged care facility. In any of our institutions, be it public or private there lurks a potential psychopath or child molester.  Rolf Harris fan or worse. You’ve gotta act quick and nip it in the bud. Grannies, are fucken dangerous, and when they go bat-shit crazy it’s like as disease. Lawlessness will surely spread. And unleashed it will tear at the very fabric of society.  That’s why we need the Liberals to manager and direct the fury of neo-Nazis’.  Its bad enough with African Crime gangs, and ne’r do wells from outback communities, but this is the evil from within. Right on our doorstep. It’s worse than the taint of Nazism on the streets. It’s Insidious, and invidious. It’s the insidious creep that must be curbed, corrected and culled. FOR OUR OWN SAFETY’!

We at pcbycp heartily agree and like Zac Rolfe whoever it is who did electrocute the old duck gets a medal or at the very least a VC, for Valour, and the principle of maintaining the rule of law. Once again, all credit to another un-sung Australian Hero!

But back to the reality of three heroes stuck in a cave with Australia’s greatest soldier ever ‘Benny-boy Roberts Smith’ and their two unconscious fragments of emotional baggage, ‘Brenny Boy Nelson’, head of the AWM, Australia’s leading cultural institution and Julian, (‘he’s not the messiah, he’s just a very naughty boy’) Assange. In the cave, far (so it seems) from the nefarious scoundrels who want to snuff their lives to preserve their privileges and the scourge of the mightiest crime gang of them all, the firm, Windsor Inc. 

We return to our saga; 

Some are punished for jay walking.

‘I dunno, this cave could go on for ever’. 

Terry surmised the situation as we plodded along in the dark. Behind us the massive form of Benny Boy still carrying Julian and between us on a stretcher of sorts the crumpled form of Brenny Boy. ‘Why don’t we just dump em in this cave and then they come to they can sort it out’?

 Wouldn’t that be a death sentence’?

‘Not necessarily’, Ces surmised.  ‘It might be just the thing they need to realise that they are just stooges, and perhaps will come the realisation that they don’t need to use the dark arts of espionage corruption, subterfuge and dissembling in order to feel good about themselves’. 

‘I dunno’, Quent replied, I reckon they’re too far gone. Like Angus or Stuart Robert, once they get a taste of it.  Like the farm dog that gets the taste of sheep, they have to be put down.  It’s the only way! 

Some are ‘water-tortured and hosed for their own good’

But if we leave em here in this darkness, we’re no better than them. It makes us just as bad’.

 ‘I dunno’? Came the booming voice of Benny Boy. ‘None of us are heroes, but London to a brick they’d knock us off given half the chance, and as a consequence of my hero-dom, they’d compromise my integrity as a soldier. Makes no difference, to me, you’re damned if you do, and damned if you’? But in that instance, as the trio backed up by Australia’s most decorated soldier trudged on, they stopped, and listened, Form deep below, a dull resonant thumping. 

‘What’s that’? Terry replied, the light of his Camel diffusing the sepulchral gloom. ‘Did you hear that’? 

Some must be dealt with severely and thrown to the ground!

We listened again, the sweat pouring in rivulets across our eyes we registered that sound coming from deep within the cave. ‘Whatever it is’, pointed Benny with his bayonet, ‘it’s coming from this bloody passageway. And however you look at THAT is either a good thing or’? He paused for added effect, ‘a very bad thing indeed. But, as you know, like the stage two tax breaks for the uber wealthy and the trickle-down effect to ensure that generations of Australian kiddies will be homeless. We have no choice’! 

We all reflected.  Benny was so right.  To equate our peril with the soaring inequity of the Australian body politic. Simultaneously and involuntarily we all sighed in agreement. Being Australia, a land of desiccation and without the wit, erudition and imagination or empathy for our other Australians there was nothing we could do about it. We just had to accept whatever fate awaited us, and trudge onwards. 

Which we did. 

Metre by metre.

Step by step. 

The public must know!

Incrementally inch by inch. 

The police have zero tolerance for…..

With as much methodical impetus as the national desire to kill the Australian eco system, the Great Barrier Reef and the Koala, we trudged on. And the booming sound enveloped us as we got closer and closer. Enveloped us with a sombre premonition, of something untoward, something unkind, something beyond belief. And Like stage two tax cuts the die had been cast and we just had to press on. 

Will pressing on, be de- pressing? 

Or will it lead to a permanent pressing of one form or another?  

Members of the PUBLIC!

Find out in our next enthralling episode, ‘Kill the reef and keep Australia simple’, or ‘If the granny has intent, you have orders to KILL’!

Another musical dispatch from the front

If it aint broke why fix it?

Hot on the heels of the docco on John Farnham in which the legendary singer is lauded for being the very icon of Australian popular music because he never wrote anything, never played anything , but just sang is another thriling endorsement of the Australian Way. Just turn up, and the bounty will follow. We have another endorsement of Federal Government policy from our man of the North West Frontier,

Frank thinks there’s a problem with Stolen Gereations V2. He reckons that it outperforms Stolen Generations V1 on almost any yardstick and as a consequence should be deemed not fit for purpose.

Politefully and respectfully we tend to disagree.

The boon of the trickle down effect. All these indicies provide ongoing employment and growth in the Industrial Incarceration complex.

What Frank  doesnt acknowledge is just how good for shareholders and the bureaucracy alone the Stolen Gen V.2 1 is. Great for the ‘Industrial Incarceration Complex’.

University tests prove that ‘Stolen’ either version 1.0 or 2.0 keeps the economy going. A win -win for the incarceration industry, police, justice system and bureaucrats. And the manufacturing of Royal Commissions and White Papers. Unsung heroes of the Industrial incarceration complex. A real and unrecognised driver, beyond real estate and mining of Australia’s growing economy.

 

Frank Writes;

 

Ngurrju mayi?

What’s the problem? Like homelessness Kevin Rudd solved the problem over a decade ago.

The simple question “Do you think ………………(here insert any group of people) should be given a say in matters affecting them?” is being twisted into the muddy waters of obfuscation.

Reminds me of when the Paris Vietnam Peace Conference descended into lengthy arguments as to what shape the table should have.

The red herring as a political weapon.

Dutto. Working for ‘Real Australians’ and the vast mass of ‘quiet under- achievers’. To say; ‘Computer Says NO’!

The Dutton/Price anti YES vote campaign has succeeded in making me make up my mind.  I’m voting YES regardless of the actual wording.

Senator Price’s latest is to demand that child protection should revert to Federal control. To the ABC Insiders program she spoke at length about foster parents having their charges returned to kin.

Let me remind you of what I wrote in My Yuendumu Story on this subject (p306 first edition or p300 second edition):

“Thus functions the New Stolen Generation. Indigenous children in Australia continue to be removed from their families at a greater rate than ever.

A Warlpiri mother had got into strife in Alice Springs. Her baby was taken and “placed.”  A few years later the rehabilitated mother who had in the meantime returned to Yuendumu had, after a lengthy court battle, regained custody of her child.

The child returned only to bawl his eyes out.  He did not recognise his mother, he was not used to seeing so many black faces, he did not understand the language.  The mother was also greatly distressed.  And that is saying nothing about the Kardiya family who had in the meantime cared for and loved the baby boy.”

And every decade or so, another Royal Commission. KC’s have investment portfolios that must also be maintained.

And this is the bit Senator Price left out:

“There are no winners.  The child should not have been removed from his extended Warlpiri family in the first place.  So much for the multimillion dollar ‘Child Protection’ industry.”

The removal of children was and is predicated on a belief that our (Kardiya) society is superior and has more to offer these children than has Indigenous society.  It is ultimately an assimilationist endeavour based on ethnocentric assumptions and exacerbated by politically motivated exaggerations, distortions and lies.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MWeDuS5ask

Ngaka nangku nyanyi

In the end, it all boils down to a lack of gratitude for all we’ve done for THEM!

Frank

And… some more tips to joining Team Strayla

Truly an unsung hero of our modern times and sadly unrewarded. Stuart Robert who has helped his mates beyond the standard definition of ‘Mateship’.

 

Playing for team Strayla. 

A lot has been said over several centuries about ‘Australia’s un- sung heroes’. 

Like Scomo Stewie has blurred the lines between self interest and corruption to give his mates a red-hot go. And yet nosy journos cry ‘Due process’ just cos they’re not Stewies mates. Unsung heroes must deal with the ‘tall poppy syndrome’. A sad reflection on modern values.

 You know what me mean, those iconic sinewy figures who toiled under the relentless sun, beyond the black stump out in the dry hinterland to make Australia rich. Those un-sung heroes who built the railways, the telegraph, the roads, the fences, the pubs and the prisons to contain the unyielding, the wild, the unconquerable. So that civilisation could spread its calming hand upon the wild interior. To tame wild rivers with irrigation, to replace ancient pastures with crops, and anoint the heathen savages with Christianity and the certainty of prisons and life- long dependence upon welfare. 

These are the great achievements of a modern Australia. The un-sung heroes, who perform their tasks unanointed and noble because they know that they are doing good. Doing good for a wider and more nobler cause than just power and influence, and money and fame, and an Order of Australia. By doing noble deeds knowing that their destiny is to leave this country enriched just a little more by noblesse oblige, self-sacrifice and decency. A decency cast by our national commitment to do better and raise the standards for all Australians that may be graced withy the boons of Sports Bet 24/7 and ready access via welfare payments to second rate housing and the stigma of being poor. Knowing that the vast majority of wealth is being siphoned off overseas, or as an indulgence for those who earn over 3250 k, whom don’t pay tax anyway. Knowing that the ‘trickle-down’ effect will give them the eternal gratification of knowing they are being pissed upon. 

Typical crude characterisation of a true unsung Hero. And an ambitious Queenslander to boot.

There is no nobler cause, 

As our heroes, pilloried, imperilled and pursued, know that whatever happen they are upholding the spirit of old Australia. That knockabout camaraderie that’s to understand that in the end survival is all that matters, and there’s no point in wondering about imponderables, because to do so would conjure the spirit of imagination, which as we all know is discouraged in Strayla. 

So saved by the bell once again, they are thrown another chance. 

Will they be lucky again? 

Will they; like Crown executives get off the hook one more time, with a slap on the wrist and an edict to’ try and be good’? 

Only time can tell. The hourglass is cracked, the glass if frosty and the sand, whatever used to be sand is now a pile of dust, the odd cockroach and a used condom. Such is life, but despair is defeat and that is a word not used by the unsung heroes, 

Titians famous depiction of ‘Benny Boy Roberts Smith’ carrying Brenny-Boy Nelson into the safety of the cave ‘like a sack of wet mice’. Painting dismissed by Archibald Jury as ‘overtly sentimental and without National ethos’

So unsung, we return to our saga.. 

After the dust had settled, the crumpled form of Julian, Australia’s misunderstood naughty boy, and the leader of Anzackery itself, Brendan Nelson also unconscious, made our trio contemplative. Our three heroes standing under the pallid light of their Camels. And Benny-boys shining equipage of mortars, mines, machine gun pistol, ammunition and bayonet. As in their past mis- adventures they sought solace once again, sharing in the knowledge that clutching victory however small from the jaws of defeat was a salvation of sorts.

Raphael’s depiction; ‘Julian receives Australian Embassy staff at Bellmarsh’ also deemed unnacceptable by Archibald Panel. ‘Too pictorial and no relevance to contemporary norms’.

What now? Terry opined, the glow of his Camel transfusing it all in an eery glow not unlike a Tintoretto altarpiece, or perhaps a work of the late romantic Lorraine, diffused in sepia tones and the haloes of four Camels being puffed with exhausted vigour by all assembled. ‘I dunno, spose the only thing we can do is follow this cave and see where it goes’. Terry pointed to the former entrance. ‘That right of way seems permanently blocked, but’, Ces interjected, ‘What about these two, can we carry this baggage’? 

They all looked at the two figures, Julian had a serene expression of calm, after the torment of Bellmarsh and his recent liaison with Pamela Anderson. Whilst Brenny-boy, architect of the massive new AWM ‘Sons and daughters of glorious Anzac wing’ just looked harmless. ‘That was his trick’! Ces interjected. “He’s got this far by representing nothing and yet it got him a top job! They all nodded in agreement.  ‘That’s the good thing about Stralya’, opined Quent.  ‘You can get to the top of the tree just by sitting on yer arse. That’s an anointment to us! ,From where? said Benny boy. ‘From God’. There ensued a period of reflective silence. 

Tintorettos fine, ‘Julian looks to Australia from Bellmarsh’, deemed innaproprtiate in reflecting contemporary Australian values of tax cuts to the wealthy and the boons of negative gearing and real estate in growing the economy.

‘All right then, we’re a bunch of lucky Bastards but if we stand here all day we’ll just be entombed, we’d better’, we saw the glint of Benny’s bayonet directing us forward. ‘We might as well push off, cos’, he laughed, ‘we can’t survive in Camels alone’. 

We all sighed in agreement as we stubbed the dregs of the Camels one by one. We looked about picked up what we had, and formed a stretcher of sorts for Brenny boy. Whilst Benny boy as insouciantly as ever just picked up the limpid form of Julian and threw him over his shoulder.  ‘Onward’ Benny Boy commanded, and we trudged onwards into the dark, 

Will their trudgery become drudgery? Will it deliver them from evil or worse?

Find out in the next tautological episode, ‘a step in the dark’, or ‘three mis-steps and you’re un- steppable’. 

Another musical dispatch from the front, ( playing for Team Australia)

Hello our loyal readership.

No one is above ‘Team Strayla’.

Todays post from Frank is over a month old.

Yes indeed, we’ve got a backlog as our editorial team has been out in the field getting first hand information from reliable sources about the Submaine Contract, The AUK- WARD treaty, and the vexed issue of Brexit, Megcit, and The State of Victorias deficit.

But these are mere tissues compared to the real issues faced by ordinary Australians. Not housing affordibililty, the equity gap or the well founded decision by the Morrison Govenrment to tax the poor to the brink of extinction and give tax cuts to those whom paying tax is an option. But the issue of who will lead the first AFL team outta Tasmania, and why the building of a stadium is a very good idea indeed. 

We don’t like em clever or questioning in ‘Team Strayla’

All of this can wait as we sort through the back log of Franks dispatches and get to the bottom. Get to the bottom of what really matters. Like freeing Julian Assange, issues of a moral and ethical pre eminence, that no one in Australia really seems to care about. 

 

Apathy triumphant? No, just the new moral plateau of Australia’s body politic at large. 

 

Whaddayou reckon Stan? Sorry hadn’t heard you’d resigned 

Plus ca change. 

 

There’s punishment for those who don’t play the rules of ‘Team Strayla’.

Now from Frank. He writes; 

 

Vrienden,

Never let it be said I don’t try to keep my promises (spot the caveat).

Here it is then, a Dispatch on Whistleblowers.

One of my favourite fantasy characters is the little boy who exclaimed “The Emperor has no clothes”. A true whistleblower if ever there was one.

Not so admirable was the little boy who cried wolf.  Wolves and dogs are closely related.  It could be said that that little boy was a dog whistler.

The rules set out by an umpire for ‘Team Strayla’

When Jesus upturned the tables of the money changers at the temple, he was in fact blowing the whistle on the prevailing greed and corruption.  In the end he was crucified.  If he came back, as many believe he will, he’d have his hands full in the modern world.

Martin Luther blew the whistle on the selling of indulgences.  For that he was hounded as a heretic for the rest of his life.

Fit and well and locked up ‘for his own good’ in H.M Prison Bellmarsh. He’ll learn to play for ‘Team Strayla’. Even if it KILLS HIM!

In Australia we have a not so proud tradition of hounding whistle blowers.  Googling I found countless cases and became painfully aware that the Whistleblower protection laws are ineffective.

The most famous Australian whistleblower is Julian Assange.  Assange has three of the Five Eyes Alliance arraigned against him.  The best our latest Prime Minister could come up with is that “Assange had suffered enough.”  Piss weak je pense.

And the Umpire holds the whistle at ‘Team Strayla’.

Then there was Bernard Collaery and Witness K. who should have got medals instead of being hounded by the authorities and the judicial system.

Yuendumu has had its share of whistleblowers exposing acts of greed, corruption and abuses of power.  Mostly but not exclusively perpetrated by Kardiya.

The latest Yuendumu case I’m aware of relates to a friend who was hounded out of the Education Department and has found it impossible to regain employment in his field.

The treatment of whistleblowers is nothing to sing about.

The tried and trusted dog-whistle of ‘Team Strayla’.

A nice bit of non-sequitur music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb3Lle1hATA

Vakaropafadzwa vanoridza muridzo

Which’ll learn em respect for all the good we’ve done for em. ‘ONYA Team Strayla’!

Frank

More misses than hits. It’s a simple as ABC.

 

Is there a Nazi in the house?

Some partnerships are made in heaven.

We’ve got problems in the Victorian Liberal party. We know that this readers in the leafier suburbs are seriously worried. Where once one could have a crack from Haverbrack, the nexus has shifted east to Narre Warren or worse. And, as we all know Narre Warren is Aboriginal for ‘no worries’! 

And we all know that when people say no worries its time to worry very seriously indeed. 

Some partnerships are dynamic, but often fraught.

Poised upon the precipice, perilously, implausibly and portentously, they await as Julian, the sickliest human alive summons his strength to take that one leap from the crown of the Sophie god deity to the sanctuary of a cave. A cave that leads to, (like our defence policy) who knows where?

And it begs the question, beyond bell marsh, has Julian done enough? Has he made a contribution to the fight against totalitarianism. By just being bunged up in the Ecuadorian Embassy, and now Bellmarsh, has he made enough of an impact to make world leaders think. If you’re an optimist, he surely has, but sadly in Albo’s Euphoria, we think that the issue of Julian, “ he’s not the messiah, he’s just a naughty boy’, may have fallen off the royal mantle. Something for the fabulously underpaid cleaning staff to gather after the coronation. And so amid royal splendour, not seen  since 1953, we return to our Saga.. 

‘Jump Julian, fer chrissakes it’s your only Hope’! Ces begged the sickly fellow.

Some partnerships are over and done with after the briefest of encounters.

Julian looked wanly at the leap. It was scarcely two metres and a bit lower than the crown on top of the Sophie Deity. But with his sickly frame withered by the brutality of solitary he just looked at us and stretched out a sickly pale nicotine finger. ‘I ca I ca… You’ve got to Julian, after all you’ve been through this is your chance! You can redeem yourself, and by facing off against the Windsor’s you’ll be acclaimed worldwide as a crime beater, a sage and a person most likely to be assassinated and in doing so achieve immortality. For the sake of all of us’! 

Some are sustained purely by a ‘Them and Us atttude’.

But it was in vain, Julian just smiled nonchalantly and stooping down upon the jagged rock, picked up the fag that had slipped through his flaccid fingers and just took a drag. ‘Well, that’s it. He’s buggered. We turned away, not wishing to see him impaled by the native spears which rained down upon us with a new intensity. But no sooner than we turned we heard an almighty thwack and the crumpled form of Julian landed just metres in front of us. ‘What the!  You didn’t think I’d leave me little mate alone’!Ben leaped the crevasse, and picked the lifeless form up like a toy doll. ‘He may yet come in handy, c’mon you lot , lets get started, and make it snappy’! We watched as Benny Boy, Australia’s bravest soldier, unravelled a tube of Torpex upon the mouth of the cave. ‘No turning back from hereon’. And ushering us forward, said, ‘when I light this lot I want you be as far down the cave as youse can possibly get’. 

Yes, and picking up Julian, we ran. It was dark, it was dank, it was slippery, but nothing as slippery as the machinations that had corrupted our lives, pursued us with a vengeance and determined to destroy us, because we alone, knew the truth. 

We stumbled and felt our way along the dark passage and hoped that just this once there may be light at the end of the tunnel. Just as Vladimir hopes for a breakthrough on the western Front so that he may clutch glory, and so as Americans kill each other in shopping streets, in car parks, playgrounds and schools to prove to themselves and the world that they are truly free. 

other are always just about ‘US’.

We found an alcove. Panting, dripping with sweat and exhausted, we waited whilst Terry lit up another round of Camels.  Barely had we inhaled the first puff, when a boom convulsed the tunnel with such gigantic force, the match went out and the blast unsettled us so much we had no recourse but to drop the crumpled Julian. As the dust settled, Quent, asked, ‘are we all still here’? A match illuminated the gloom, and Terry as nonchalantly as ever offered a fresh brace of Camels. Terry was a good man to have in a spot. And what surprised us most was the silence. 

 Where once the air was filled with the venomous fury of savages intent un our blood, led by the real Sophie deity now transformed to a goddess amongst the heathens, it was eerily quiet. It was peaceful, and if ever silence stood for anything it sounded good. 

Benny strolled up to us. 

‘That’ll learn em’. 

Some are borne by mutual interest.

We stood back against the dank wall. And all of us without saying anything to a man offered our thanks. Benny lapping it up, pulled out from his breast pocket the tattered bloodstained ribbon of his VC and reverentially kissed it. ‘I did it for not you just youse, but for my country’. It was solemn moment, almost on par with the coronation, but less dressy. With a flash of his watch, Benny directed us to move on, we dragged Julian behind us, whilst Benny with one mighty arm held ‘Brenny Boy’ Nelson over his shoulder like a sack of wet mice. Two powerful people rendered harmless by the momentous force of global events, in a cave, in the highlands of New Guinea, and unreported on Sky or Fox news. So the noble must go unanointed. 

Shuffling along, wet, drab, exhausted and undernourished the cave went downwards AND with it, our morale. How far will it Go?  Is there a Bottom? ‘What goes up’ as they say in the classics, but with so much after them, we cannot tell, nor dare to wish, but hope, that somehow, they may prevail. 

Or some just by self interest. The mutual is often non-binding.

Find out in our next episode, ‘three epistles that whistle’, or; ‘tempered and tarnished the sceptre (if held correctly) glows in the dark’. 

Another musical dispatch from the front

The Mighty Steam Shovels at work. ‘This’ll whistle down the wind’!

Dear reader,

In this captivating piece, Frank tells us about Whistles. 

As a member of the local steam enthusiasts and Traction Engine rally Club we are delighted to share our enthusiasm. Who could not thrill to the sound of Puffing Billy at Belgrave or the ominously low roar of the whistle on the giant steam shovel at Lake Goldsmith. In this piece Frank makes mention of other types of whistles. We’d like to add to his insights on Dutto and Dog-Whistling, but we’re hearing impaired and couldn’t hear a dog whistle in the first place. Hence we don’t quite understand what Frank is on about. 

Jacinta to Dutto; ‘See Peter, even the White bits are black’!

What we do know is the entire north of this country is riven with crime and sexual perversion. Such things JUST DO NOT HAPPEN below the BRISBANE LINE. 

For more filth read below, but we’d like to warn those who are hearing impaired to adjust their hearing aids. And if they haven’t got one because they can’t afford it, to hope that the dole is indexed as an afterthought to the splendid idea of massive tax cuts to the super rich. 

 

Frank writes; 

 

Amigos,

As a child I could whistle a creditable imitation of my canary.  I have long lost that ability and that is not the type of whistling I’m turning my attention to.  Neither is that famous painting currently housed at the Musée d’Orsay, Whistler’s Mother.

Johnny Howard. The undisputed leader on Dog Whistling

Take ‘whistlestop’ campaigning.  I believe this started in the U.S.A.  Political candidates would hire a train and make speeches from the rear platform at ‘whistlestop’ stations.  One of Richard Nixon’s whistlestops has gone into legend.  Political prankster Richard Tuck donned a station guard’s uniform and whistled the train to get going in mid speech (oratio interruptus).

These days the term whistlestop is used whether a train is involved or not.  On the ABC news I saw Peter Dutton flanked by Senator Jacinta Price on his second Alice Springs whistlestop since the election that toppled his former master (Scott who?)  I didn’t think it possible but opposition leader Dutton has managed to take over the mantle of that dog whistling virtuoso John Howard.
Alas in the NT there is no Richard Tuck doppelganger and we have to suffer wall to wall reportage of Dutton (flanked by Jacinta)’s visit.

Dutto and Jacinta have a handle on whistling.

I’m not saying that the crime wave in Alice Springs isn’t a serious concerning matter, but I think it disingenuous to pretend that it is all down to the inaction of the present Labor Federal and NT Governments.  This situation has been building up over decades and was greatly exacerbated by the NT Emergency Response (the Intervention) which was rolled out under John Howard and perpetuated in an even more draconian form under Rudd and Gillard.  I consider that the introduction by the Intervention of 500 non-NT (to us effectively foreign) police is one of the root causes of the current social disruption.  The calling for the Australian Federal Police to come out to help out the NT Police reeks of political opportunism and in my opinion and that of many others is not an answer and can only make matters worse.  Too much stick and not enough carrot.

You may recall that the NT Emergency Response was supposedly responding to alleged endemic sexual abuse of Aboriginal Children.  We’ve all heard it before: The alleged Jewish child sacrifices in Middle Ages England, the alleged mistreatment of Sudeten Germans in Czechoslovakia, the alleged Gulf of Tonkin incident, the alleged weapons of mass destruction, the alleged Libyan uranium purchases from Niger, the alleged Children overboard.
In my childhood I well remember how we were warned that the Gitanos kidnapped children.  I suppose they could come to the NT and work for welfare.

Whistleblowing aint all bad. Your own bib and accommodation in one of HM’s fabulous prisons. All rent- free!

During Peter Dutton’s dog whistling performance, he once again snuck it in: “kids here tonight who are going to be sexually abused”
When Peter Dutton solicited questions, the second question was from a reporter who asked him what evidence he had for his statement.  Peter Dutton dismissed the question as a typical ABC question and implied the reporter wasn’t local and didn’t know what he was talking about.  When the reporter said he was a local, the ABC switched to the cyclone alert and I didn’t get to hear what Dutton said next.

Maybe just as well as I can only listen to so much dog whistling which to me is painfully loud.

Sorry folks, I’ve run out of space, I try to keep the Dispatches brief lest your eyes glaze over.  There is another form of whistling. It is called whistleblowing.  Unlike dog whistlers, whistleblowers are persecuted in Australia. I’ll deal with this whistle blowing sometime in the future.  When I’m done with whistling, I may deal with ‘fear and loathing’ If you can’t wait, I suggest you get hold of Hunter S. Thompson’s book Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ’72. Just change the date and the names, and there you have it.

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

Chau,

Frank

PS I don’t have the answers but I know where to start stop whistleblowing and

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

What the territory needs are MEN of CHARACTER like the TEXAS RANGERS!

Respect

When a statue of limitations must needs apply

 

The crowning glory! HRH King Charles keeps the seat warm for the next chinless wonder.

Julian, letting WIKILEAKS issue forth so that he may recieve eternal disdain from the Australian body politic.

As the serious count-down begins until we have officially crowned a new monarch, a new head of state, a new titular figure to out rank all titular twits who’ve assumed power thought theft, grift, assassination and brute force . This one comes to us via the divine right of birth. Noble born. As noble as a family of chinless-wonder Germanic princelings can ever get.  We count the days down.  Only six days till the crowning achievement. To stand anointed by a Christian God on the balcony of Buckingham Palace. 

And the susurrus around the palace, what will Migraine and her consort Harry do to disrupt the proceedings? Just their mere presence is enough to upset the whole shebang. Such is the power of the Twittersphere, digital media and stupidity on a scale unparalleled to turn farce into utter farce. Only Piers Morgan can achieve a more farcical level of farcicity,  (if there isn’t such a word , we don’t care)   just by opening his mouth. The royal slatherer, will be drooling and inchoate with kingly splendour, as collectively we bum-lick and forelock tug into the middle of the twenty first century. For that is the tradition ‘handed down to us’.

When once we used to celebrate the workers and the proletariat in May Day, now we celebrate the capacity to buy things ands enjoy slavish wage growth whilst the anointed ten percent gain obscene tax cuts. This is just one of the boons of being a bit-player in the glory of majesty, of pomp, and horrid and unremarkable.  Little people feeling every now and then superior. Such is the anointment of Windsor Inc. 

What will Prince Andrew wear at the COWONATION? A Tiara? A sword? A mace? A leak?

But what can we do? And how much do we know what really goes on? Only the inner circle and our three hapless anti-heroes Ces, Quent and Terry know that Windsor Inc is a vicious stop at nothing crime gang, hell bent on monetising the former colonies via graft corruption and their capacity to supply on demand the reliability of utter stupidity. With Gina and Angus up to their necks in gold for peerages and Sophie on the loose, in the New Guinea highlands they know that only by chance and a little luck they might escape. And thus live freely away from the machinations of the Royal Family and the cronies who are determined to snuff them out. 

We return to our saga. 

The little man who would be GRATE. Powering the mighty machinery of Anzackery Corp!

‘Hold on tight. But they’re slippery’! The sight of Ces swaying back on forth as he tried to get his hands firmly attached to the statues enormous nipples caused the more sensitive amongst our group to wince. Surprisingly Julian held on with utter determination and swinging his body to and fro heaved himself up with both hands onto the upper part of the enormous breasts. With a belaying pin stuck in the cleavage, he paid out the rope. And one by one, they gained the upper reaches. They could see the spears clattering at the feet of the statue some one hundred feet below them and realised that with just one more heave they’d be at the portal of the cave. And pausing just briefly, Benny Boy, the last to gain the ledge, hauled Brenny-boy Nelson as a crumpled sack of humanity upon his broad shoulders and pointed to the top. ‘Gain the crown, and it should be easy to leap into the portal. But’ , he cautioned; ‘Be careful. -‘Righto’! Quent enthused and with a grappling hook fashioned by vine and a crumpled spear he secured a hold on the Crown and beckoning the rest followed, leaving Benny boy Australia’s moist decorated soldier at the top of the breasts and the splayed body of Brenny Boy Nelson manager of the AWM lifeless as a wax  and papier mâché dummy. 

The natives had finally made it to the statue, clambering down the maw of the ancient crevasse and with their spears shaking and the indecipherable gibberish of savages they hallooed and hurrahed whilst their eyes, illuminated in the smouldering haze of the Rotodyne, staring revengefully at their fleeing prey. To make sure we watched Benny boy expertly unleash a few grenades and amid the terrific raw and flash, we watched him insouciantly pick up Brenny boy and follow us. It was heartening to have such a warrior, such an unstoppable force on our side. 

Slotted for a job in defence industries? Sadly, we are not joking.

Julian was the last to jump from the crown, and though sickly in face and body wracked by all those years in Bellmarsh, he seemed to be infused with a new vigour. With one short run-up he made the leap. Almost fell, and we grabbed him. The cave our only protection for the natives who by now were climbing the statue, their statue of Sophie their god head to avenge the insult of our iconoclastic retreat. 

‘This’ll fix em’, and from his rucksack Benny produced a brace of land mines, a long bundle of torpex, detonators, smoke bombs and a dozen bomblets gleaned from the war torn wastelands of Bakhmut. Without even looking at us, he commanded, ‘you lot go into the cave and I’ll sort this lot out’. We looked into the cave stygian darkness, whilst below us the natives, screaming and wahooing in their primitive zeal gained purchase around the totems mid riff. We stumbled forward. We had no choice, but the only one offered to us, it was simple just like Windsor inc, there was only one logic; ‘Kill or be crowned’. 

What will happen to our heroes, will the tunnel be their saviour?

Will the tunnel deliver them from evil, temptation and the omnipresent scourge of Sophie, Gina and the Windsors?

Find out in the next episode, 

A tiara in the dust’, or;

Rather be tasered than be hit by the Royal Mace’. 

Royal family demonstrating their Germanic lineage.

Another musical dispatch from the front

Pcbycp’s guide to the ‘VOICE’ . This is Lydia. Lydia likes to be seen as a CHAMPION for the “not so sure about the Voice Constituency’

Dear reader, another pearler from Frank,

 

In this- un Frank has quite a bit to say about Jack Waterford, and his analysis of the 1967 referendum.

In this piece Frank suggests that more often than not the ‘Fed’s’ get it wrong on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders. And that no matter how well meant, ‘the voice’ just might become another noose for First Nations Australians.

 In this regard we are inclined to agree.  After the recent inland rail report, a decade of ‘ Clean Coal initiatives’, the effort to stifle renewables, the housing crisis, the Murray Darling, the Lesser Great Barrier Reef, and just about every form of self-centred pork-barreling one minute policy we agree. The Feds have been pretty crappy on most initiatives. As the proctologist said to the amputee; ‘Not a lot of joy to be found’.

The Press like to Champion Lydia as the “Voice Rat-Bag” and Lydia obliges by granting them photo Ops.

Perhaps there is new hope. For in optimism we can be willfully blind to the short- termism and craven opportunism that marks the Australian body politic. Pork barrel on….

 

Frank Writes….

 

Greetings,

I have mentioned John Paulos’ book ‘Innumeracy’ before. The book’s main premise is that innumeracy is as serious a problem in society as illiteracy.
I forget the exact quote but the section on statistics starts with “Two out of three doctors prefer paracetamol to aspirin. They couldn’t convince Fred otherwise.”  The book also informs us that hair doesn’t grow in miles per hour, which I’m glad to know.

Dutto and Jacinta are CHAMPIONS of the NO vote. They’d like the Voice to go the way of the Tasmanian Tiger and a meaningful reconciliation with actual powers invested in First Nations Peoples.

In the gold exploration industry of which I was a part, they have something called the nugget effect.  If a drill hole strikes a rare nugget this can result in astronomically high assay results.  A prudent mining company will ignore these assays as being non-representative and exclude them from resource calculations.  An unscrupulous mining company may announce these high assay results to artificially boost its share price.  A bit like poker machines whereby the occasional win is accompanied by loud triumphant music.

Much the same applies to diamonds in kimberlite pipes. Ore sorting machines detect the occasional diamond by the high refractive index. The diamonds are expelled from the ore stream by a loud whistling blast of compressed air.

I’ve just looked at the My School website. Yuendumu school’s NAPLAN results are consistently below the national average. The mother tongue of over 90% of Yuendumu school pupils is Warlpiri.  All NAPLAN tests are conducted in English. If NAPLAN tests in Melbourne were conducted in Warlpiri, Melbourne schools would perform poorly.

Much of education policy is influenced by such as NAPLAN statistics, and just like a gold mining company which relies on non-representative nugget assays when deciding to proceed to mine is likely to come a cropper, so too education policies based on flawed interpretation of statistics are doomed to failure.

So back to the Voice- My friend Forrest Holder, after reading my friend Jack Waterford’s essay which I forwarded in a previous Dispatch, has this to say:

The DYNAMIC DUO! Dutto and Suzie are pretty happy with the status quo which is; Do Nothing go backwards, and continue the policies of generational poverty and kleptocracy for mates.

I reckon Jack is one of Australia’s best journalists.

I also reckon he let himself down a little with the article that Frank dispatched.  I address that herein, but nothing that I write below detracts from the very high regard I hold for Jack.

Jack got it right in stating that “we now live in a society where most citizens would not, and a few citizens dare not, express the racist and discriminatory feelings that were once … common.”

Spot on Jack, racism today is generally no longer overt, nonetheless and more troublesome for me is that racism remains endemic in Australia.

This is evident in our collective failure to revolt against Howard’s Intervention.  A failure repeated when we collectively failed to repudiate Labor’s cowardly refusal to end the NT Intervention.

Shame Australia, shame on us.

Jack correctly reminds us that 90% of eligible Australians in the 1967 referendum voted to change the Constitution in relation to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

Does that mean we are more racist today than we were in 1967?

The ‘Father of the Intervention”. John Howard can be justifiably proud for Invading Australia.

In truth I don’t think we are more racist today than we were in 1967, I reckon the greater majority of us believe, and very much want to believe, we are not racist.

The majority of us most sincerely want urgent change that will improve the lives and conditions for ATSI peoples in Australia.

The best way for all of us to effect that change is to ensure we know and understand the pros and cons of the Voice initiative, and we really need to know a salient and most important lesson from history.

And in this regard, I reckon Jack erred because he did not inform us of this lesson.

Kevin Rudd can be justifiably proud in furthering Howard’s intervention and making it just that little bit more repressive and nasty. He doesn’t get the credit he deserves for maintaining the obdurate tradition of PUNISHMENT for FIRST AUSTRALIANS!

Let me refresh your memories about one aspect of the 1967 referendum.

Prior to 1967 Section 51 (xxvi) of the Constitution, referred to as the race power, prevented the Commonwealth from passing legislation with respect to ATSI peoples.

The referendum changed this and granted the Commonwealth the power to make ‘special laws’ for ‘the people of any race for whom it is deemed necessary’.

The popular campaign for Constitutional reform in 1967 was driven by the complete failure of the States in the decades following Federation to improve the conditions for ATSI peoples.

In 1967 there was a widely held sincere belief that if granted the constitutional powers the Commonwealth Government would succeed where the States had failed.

Back then nearly 91 percent of us deeply wanted the Commonwealth to improve the lives of first nations peoples in this country.

Back then Australians acted in good faith and delivered those powers to the Commonwealth.

But in our innocent naivety we believed the Commonwealth Parliament would only ever use the new power for the benefit of ATSI peoples.  Consequently we delivered the powers to the Commonwealth with no constraints as to how its new found powers could be used.

Dutto and Jacinta are worried about crime and sexual deviancy in Alice Springs amongst First Nations community. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in mainstream Australia.

The terrible fact is that the Commonwealth has without exception proven unworthy of our trust. The Commonwealth has used the race powers three times, and each time it was to the detriment of the rights and interests of our first nations peoples.

The last time it used these powers was when Howard relied upon them to pass the raft of legislation needed to implement the NT Intervention. Note the provisions of the Racial Discrimination Act had to be suspended for the passage of the Intervention bills.

I believe Jack should have reminded us that the hopes we had in 1967 were dashed completely.  He should have reminded us of the folly of trusting Parliament to act in good faith in its dealings with ATSI peoples.

I believe this because once again ATSI peoples and their supporters are investing much hope in trusting the Parliament to act in good faith with the Voice.

And once again the Yes campaigners propose no constraint that would prevent Parliament from acting to the detriment of ATSI peoples.  The proponents for the Voice model have forgotten the lessons of 1967.

People really need to know these facts before they make up their minds on the Voice initiative.

Mal Brough. Another ambitious Queenslander, who doesn’t get enough credit for starting the intervention with his reports of sexual perversion in remote communities. Dutto hopes the strategy may work again. Victimizing minority groups is electorally popular.

Without such a constraint the Voice initiative is a folly.

It is terrible that no one in the media reports on these facts.  Jack should have I reckon.

Forrest.

In the Canadian ‘oilpatch’ I learned an expression “A slap in the mooch with a cold mackerel”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLdK9zaLaG8
Is that all the referendum is going to deliver?

John Howard professed a deep affinity for First Australians. Under his and Kev’s leadership, incarceration went through the roof. A Win Win for the incarceration para-military complex.

Rudd’s Apology with its ‘mistakes of the past never to be repeated’ was in hindsight exquisite hypocrisy as a friend who was much involved in Aboriginal Affairs aptly described it.  Jack’s ‘war on terror’ by the “welfare” is ongoing. I know for a fact that the mistakes of the past are being repeated and also that despite all the NT Police’s undertakings at the coronial inquest to do things better, over the top raids by armed police continue to happen.  Like Forrest, I won’t be holding my breath and expect much improvement flowing from a YES vote.  The likes of Andrew Bolt and Barnaby Joyce are already using dishonest chicken little tactics campaigning for the NO vote. There is a new word describing what the extreme right wing media exploits, it is “angertainment.”
Anger was sadly lacking when the Intervention was imposed.

I’ll be voting YES. I don’t want to be out of touch and sympathy with the national mood as Jack Waterford put it. Neither am I prepared to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

I believe Australia has enough NO sayers for the NO vote to succeed.

Statistically the odds are stacked against the YES vote.  The system is rigged, just like poker machines are.

Let your patience be rewarded by some nice music from the Solomon Islands:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkTGKieSrP8

And the good thing…….. there’s always another ambitious Queenslander to take up the reins and take us on a new journey into OBLIVION!

Frank

The Pit and the Pendulous

Before he became Lord Murdoch of Rupert

 

In more plot twists than the telephoned hacking disclosures for the Royal house of Prince Harry prior to the coronation, the retreat from Moscow suffered by Fox News before the Dominion crisis, or just the facost of living anxiety.

Power allegedly is said to corrupt when it becomes ABSOLUTE!

Our dedicated consultants can give the very latest advice on Estate realisation, assisted suicide and brokerage under our very simple, no win no gains basis. Our consultants led by the very ably credentialed Michelle Gatto and his cohort can arrange closure with the simple smoothing of a pillow, laid and with pressure applied to ensure swift asphyxiation. Estate management fees and clearances guaranteed within ninety days. Give our group a go by ringing our toll free number, and ask for the ‘associated estate preparation package’, and we will send the necessary information kit. As we acknowledge the very real reality that no one under the age of fifty will ever be able to buy a house unless mummy and daddy kark it, we optimistically return to our saga.

And on a personal note, we at pcbycp are more than willing to assist in the speedy departure of mummy and daddy if you are suffering rent stress and alleviate these cost of living struggles. If, (dear reader) your parents are not well endowed, we suggest you just keep reading this next instalment in the hope that someone comes good on their promise of a wage increase, or does something really significant to reduce the cost of living and make housing affordable. Such as kindly ask big business and energy suppliers to go easy on the consumer.

Even allegedly ‘happy families’ have the odd difference of opinion from time to time.

In if that is your circumstance at this point in time, per se, we suggest you start looking for and identifying flying pigs. As most politicians have three, four or some as many as ten or fifteen investment properties negatively geared and safely secured, we suggest you may have Buckley’s or hope for a Fairy God Mother. Last time we saw the Fairy Godmother she was out at ‘Camp Rolfe’, formerly Yuendumu, distributing investment rent to buy packages, and pre- paid funerals to the hapless denizens. In debt we shall grow.

But of debt, what about the debt we owe the Royal Family? Which Royal Family?  There’s only one. Not the pretenders from Money- Cheeto, but the real deal, Charles and Camilla, and their flunkeys, Billy-Boy, (Prince William) and his Missus, Kalamity, Katherine Windsor.

Time is a ticking time bomb when that mob are after you and they’ll; make Michelle and his mates look like pansies,

 

We return to our saga.

 

Julian Assange before the power of Wikileaks bought him down!

Rupert had no choice but to throw wife No: 4 under the BUS!

‘Christ’! Julian exploded, ‘with the house of Windsor after us, we haven’t got a chance. Even if we get out of this mess, we’re rooted. Sophie and her cohort are ardent royalists, and this bloke’, he pointed with a withered nicotine-stained finger to the crumpled form of Brendan Nelson, ‘and this bloke as far as the royals are concerned is bum boy central, he’d do anything to save his skin and get a royal gong. His whole and entire life has been spent in the sacred role of suck-dom, and if we don’t knock him off now we’re more or less royally rooted. And as here Royal Highness Princess Fergie of muck would say we’re majestically Fucked’.

 

We all agreed Julian had a way with words.

‘So lets knock him off, Benny’!

Julian turned his puce coloured visage to our war hero, pleading for Benny to do what was natural for him.

‘I dunno’, Benny replied. Julian looked absolutely struck, we all froze. Benny just looked at the crumpled figure in his safari suit coat and shorts. He looked pathetic and we could see that for this once, Benny had empathy.

‘Nup’! Benny replied, ‘I just can’t do it, it doesn’t seem right!

‘Right’?

Jullian pleaded.

‘Of course it is’! ‘If you let this little twerp live it’ll be worse for us than being holed up in the Ecuadorian embassy, worse than solitary at Bellmarsh, worse than having to root Pamela Anderson just to get a packet of fags, I’m telling you Benny, if you don’t do it were all cactus!

‘Nup it aint right’!

A ominous sign, the wedding bouquet was fake. Fake flowers and Fake News.

‘But you’ve rolled wops off cliffs’! Julian enthused. ‘And you’ve gathered prosthetic limbs from the field of valour. What’s wrong about this’?

‘Nup!  I know he’s a fawning little pipsqueak, but the way I see it, there’s no honour in knocking him off.  And besides,  he may be worth more to us alive. As a bargaining chip.

Bargaining chip’? Julian expostulated, ‘who’s to bargain with?  Whether the little squirt lives or dies, were hounded by the Royals , the (he pointed upwards) the ‘chocolate royals’, Sophie and Angus and every other crooked bastard who seeks to monetise our suffering so they can get another leg up on the greasy pole’.

‘Greasy pole’?

Ces pointed to the corner of the recess, as the first of the spears began to puncture the already crumpled fuselage of the Rotodyne. ‘ Look at that’! They all turned, and sure enough in the recess they noticed a Totem of sorts.  This one larger and more squat than the one in the village. A totem devoted to the likeness of Sophie as a fertility goddess.

See there’!

They all looked upwards the head has a sort of crown.  ‘All we have to do is climb up and gain that portal’! He directed their gaze to a cave.  A much smaller one running into the side of the mountain.  ‘If we can get up into there, we  may have a chance of finding a way out. And none too soon’!

Behind every great cause is a pip-squeak!

What began as a trickle became a storm of spears as they rained down from above.  ‘Come on!  There’s no time to loose, the alcove is protected. Grab Brenny-boy and go for it’!

 

‘Now!

And they clambered up to the feet of the Sophie totem. ‘The only way up is to form a human chain and see if you can get over that ledge there’! Ces pointed to the large protuberances, crudely fashioned by the natives as enormous breasts. ‘I know you’ll have to get a gold of her tits to gain purchase, and see if you can get a foothold on her navel, and hang on with the other hand to her nipples’.  Nervously they clutched the nipples. Pulled hard to test the weight and heaved themselves over the melon like over- sized   protuberances.

 

Sophie before she was elevated to God-head status.

Dear reader, we would like to apologise on behalf of the Melbourne Comedy Festival for this farcical scene. But we must faithfully record it as spoken in keeping the accuracy of events untarnished as they unfold, we continue. And as this scene is ridiculous and in the genre of an anecdote from Sir Les Patterson, we record it faithfully in homage to our greatest politician and mentor.

 

‘See if you can get her midriff, tie this rope to her belt, they saw a belt of sorts fashioned by vine, and Benny adroitly tied his grappling hook and tested the weight.  ‘It’ll take us, you go on up. I’ll carry Brenny-boy and meet you at the top. Get a good hold of the tits, in this climate they might get slippery, and fer Chrissakes hang on’!

 

Will our heroes get out of this pit of peril?

 

Will the statue which includes a likeness of Sophie’s tits be strong enough to take the weight?  Will her nipples withstand the pressure?

Find out in our next mammory-eth episode, ‘Sagging tits and destiny’ or

Facsimile of native statue erected to deify Sophie. Each increment on scale is equivalent to ten metres. By our calculus the statue is over 150 metres in height. A true marvel of the neolithic world.

‘Cripple nipple, and we’re stuck in the middle’.

Another musical dispatch from the front

Dear reader, 

 

If anyone out there has noticed, we’ve had a Dickens of a time getting the computer to work.

Its an all round case of computer iliteracy.  The space key is no longer working and it wont let us do apostrophes.  So apologies for the absence of apostrophes on apostrophe and won’t. Its a clear case of Bishop Hollinworth-ism.  

And its frustration personified. So bear with us, weve been delayed, but not daunted. The show must go on! And what a show it isn’t. Yes indeed more wisdom of the non Norman kind fromFrank. So without so much of a preamble this missive which was sent several weeks ago. the rest as they say; Is history.  Thats history wityout apostrophe. Just as Hollingworth is without plausible excuse. Read on…

 

Hallo kameraden,

Jack Waterford has written an essay which absolutely nails the matter of the Referendum regarding the Voice to Parliament.  I have no illusion I can match this erudite piece of prose, so without further ado, with Jack’s permission, I herewith rendered it in its entirety:

The shame of missing a national mood

Modern Australians still adore ugly duchesses and royal pomp!

Modern Anglo-Australians sometimes congratulate themselves about that moment in white Australia’s progress to semi-civilisation 56 years ago when Australian voters acknowledged Australia’s original inhabitants, and grudgingly allowed that they could be numbered among the Commonwealth’s inhabitants, and be the subject of Commonwealth legislation.  The referendum that permitted this was passed by nearly 91 per cent of voters, the greatest proportion of the population ever to approve a referendum proposal. And as if to emphasise that this was more deliberate than exuberant, voters convincingly defeated another matter up for ballot – breaking the nexus between numbers in the House of Representatives and the senate.

Perhaps it bespoke a new maturity in the general population. About the same time, the White Australia policy was dropped by the Holt government, even if it took some time for the decision to have any practical effect.  Abolishing the White Australia policy might not have succeeded at a referendum.  More cosmopolitan members of the broader monoculture may have recognised that the policy damaged our image in Asia and at the United Nations.  They may have recognised that the arguments used to justify it smacked of South Africa and Rhodesia, and the American South and shocked most of the people of Europe.  It was increasingly impossible to justify, or be personally comfortable with, legal discrimination against 80 per cent of the world based on the colour of their skin.

Yet a significant proportion of the population – mostly, but by no means only, Labor-voting members of the working class –believed that the Australian standard of living, our good working conditions, and the nation’s political, social and cultural stability were a result of determined efforts to exclude Asians, Africans, African-Americans and most South Americans from our population.  Gough Whitlam may have helped lead Labor from this wilderness; his instincts were bitterly opposed by Arthur Calwell, his predecessor, and leading frontbencher Fred Daly.

At the time of the 1967 referendum prime minister Anthony Albanese was four years old. His predecessor, Scott Morrison, was a year away from being born.  Both grew up in very different societies, as did most Australians, local or foreign-born.  Only about three in 10 Australians was alive at the time of the 1967 referendum, and only about half of these would have any recollection of it.

Take it from Pandora, this Voice thing might be dangerous if let out of the box! It might give rise to a national state of IMAGINATION!

Only older Australians seem to want to maintain hostilities against
Aboriginal Australians.

Anglo irish like the status quo.  (and dressing up)

In the general Australian population, opposition to the Voice proposal is likely to be concentrated among those who were alive in 1967. They may prove to be the only age-group which, by majority, votes no. The younger the voter, the more likely they are to vote yes and to see the Voice as a further step in the reconciliation of non-Aboriginal Australians with the people of the first nations. The more likely too that such voters will see the adoption of the referendum proposal as a national coming of age, not only an embrace and incorporation of indigenous history, culture and society into Australia’s own sense of itself, but as a mark of our national self-confidence in our dealings with the world. Indigenous disadvantage has long been a stick with which other nations have been able to beat us. Many in the younger half of the population are puzzled and somewhat outraged by the reluctance of older folk, particularly men, to “get over” 1950s attitudes to Aboriginal Australians. Likewise, most people born outside Australia – even older ones – are less likely to be hostile to Aboriginal aspirations than older Anglo-Irish men.

I can remember 1967, and some of the cautious optimism about Aboriginal affairs that the overwhelming yes vote brought.  It was a long time locally before much change occurred, but few doubted that the wider Australia had declared that things must.  The first significant changes occurred from about 1973, during the Whitlam government. But many of the advances seemed to be accompanied by retreats that were greeted with satisfaction in the populations where rural Aborigines lived. The composition of that population has changed over time, as have attitudes among the younger members of that population. But there are rich veins of antipathy able to be mined.

The legacy of right-minded Rural Australians is GRATE!

I can never forget that in the rural part of Australia where I grew up, a majority of the people voted no.

UNGRATEFUL! For all weve done for them!

That did not, of itself, reflect that natural conservatism Australians are supposed to exhibit whenever anyone wants to make changes to the constitution. It reflected an active hostility to Aborigines, to Aboriginal interests, and to any notion that the collective advancement of Aborigines could involve any perceived cost or disadvantage to the local white population. I would have said that this was a social hostility at this time more manifest among the “townies” rather than the farmers and pastoralists of the area. Many of the latter, in days before they had been whipped up into a frenzy with fear of land rights and native title, could afford to be somewhat more liberal about the fate of a casual labour force the demand for which was falling. But others might say sardonically that the reason farmers and graziers could afford such neutrality was because their grandfathers and great grandfathers had arranged the “clearing” of their holdings, and, later, the exile of any remnant populations to the fringes of local towns. Not really their problem anymore.

Even Mr Potato Head has a heart. In a potato-ey kinda way!

Australia’s Jim Crow era is not of the ancient past. Many of us remember it well.

Meanwhile, most indigenous people in these areas lived on “missions” and settlements, many still in metre-high lean-tos constructed of flattened-out kerosine tins, cardboard boxes and bits of tin scavenged from the (usually nearby) tips. Most indigenous children were not allowed into the local government schools, although that situation was gradually changing and had been reversed by 1970. The children had not been excluded on openly racist grounds, but because the townsfolk had objected to their children attending school alongside children with obvious pus coming from ears and noses.  At least until the 1964 Freedom Rides (and in most cases for a year or two afterwards) Aboriginal children were excluded from local swimming pools. In many towns, police enforced a curfew from dusk to dawn on Aboriginal presence in town areas.  Australia had a Jim Crow system every bit as bad as in the American South.

Welfare recipients are DEAD-Sick of Charity!

I was born in a hospital where Aboriginal women gave birth to babies, or were treated when sick, on the hospital veranda, not in the wards.  The Aboriginal infant mortality in the area was about 250 per 1000 one in every four babies died before reaching the age of one.  That death rate was about the same as in Central Australia. But in the Centre, most indigenous people were living far more traditionally, and, at that stage, without much access to wages or material goods, let alone any sort of proximity to health and education services. The shaming feature of much of western NSW was that such services existed and were notionally open to Aboriginal use.  Some services  “the welfare”, for example waged a war of terror, aided by the police and the judicial system, against Indigenous families, as well as indigent whites. Children seized by welfare were rarely returned to their communities.

But living conditions, morbidity and mortality told the real story.  Just as shamingly, the frank racism and marked disadvantage did not seem to make many in the local population uneasy; they were quite happy as things were. Nor were the local politicians much engaged in promoting any programs of Aboriginal advancement; generally, most local agitation, if any, came from the odd clergyman, teacher or other busy-body ring-ins. Such people were, as far as possible, generally ostracised, especially by power centres in the community such as the RSL.  I am proud to say that my father, a grazier, was one of the local do-gooders. So was his father and some of his siblings.

Most suburban Australians are keenly aware of First Nations and their impact on a cultural ethos.

If ever, in those days, I expressed any reproach or feeling of shame to others from the area for the district’s no vote at the referendum, I was smugly reminded that most Australians had never seen an Aboriginal, and had voted from naïve idealism.  It could be said that the more likely it was that people lived in the vicinity of Aboriginal Australians, the more likely it was that they, from their experience, would vote no. Most people would disavow complete antipathy to Aborigines. They would grudgingly admit that some individuals, and some families, were respectable and admirable citizens.  That did not prevent racist generalisations, open discrimination in local shops and services, and a general belief that the disadvantage of Aborigines was their own fault, for failing to adopt the habits and the manners of white Australians.

Many in the community confidently expected that any initiatives would be a waste of money, and that ameliorative measures, anti-discrimination laws, legal aid—would change nothing. Police hotly resented any controls or discipline over the way they “managed” their local Aboriginal “problem.” Country folk deeply resented the disapproval of city-folk and do-gooders, and believed they had no idea of the nature of the “problem.”  Curiously, much of the alleged fecklessness, ignorance and “no-hoperdom” attributed to Aborigines had, only a century or so before been attributed to the local Irish. Some of these now trotted out the very discriminatory generalisations that had once been used to justify their being held back from full participation in the wider society.

I’d like to say that we are past all that now. .Certainly we now live in a society where most citizens would not, and a few citizens dare not, express the racist and discriminatory feelings that were once so common in those parts.

Across the nation living conditions have improved considerably, and, in most communities, Aborigines now live in the towns and the cities, if all too often in over-crowded housing.  There is a full panoply of anti-discrimination legislation, and, in many areas a strong sense of civic partnership that no longer routinely excludes the Aboriginal citizens making up a significant proportion of the towns.

But we are still a long way from a picture in which the local indigenous community are not instantly distinguishable by being the most obviously disadvantaged by health, housing and educational status, by income and job security, and by almost every imaginable form of social or economic capital accumulation. It is trite to say that much of that disadvantage is a consequence of the bad bits of European settlement, including old policies of dispersal, dispossession and conscious pauperisation. What has yet to be properly acknowledged is how much of the current disadvantage comes from the recent as much as the distant past. And how much of its continuance has been because of the active resistance of a proportion of the population who see themselves as disadvantaged whenever there is any effort to improve the lot of the first Australians.

The case for yes is an emotional one. But it’s positive and yearns for a brand new day. The case for no is resentful, and won’t drop the grudge.

Even on stamps and coins they, ( First Australians) have made significant steps toward RECOGNITION. None of which is TOKEN!

Pauline Hanson regularly expresses this resentment and resistance, sometimes cunningly with her claim that she dares to say what others are thinking. The National Party has had a long tradition of resisting change, but in more recent times has become more progressive as it has recognised that many of its human constituencies (that is other than the coal and gas industry) have progressive views on human rights, the environment and policies of inclusion rather than polarisation. So far, its decision to campaign against the Voice has not sought to pander to active hostility to Aborigines, other than through its traditional law and order focus.

Guided always by a benign and guiding hand invested by HIS MAJESTY the KING to ensure we all live up to the notion of CIVILISATION!

But as the referendum campaign gathers speed one can expect that it will be pitching a them-versus-us line in its electorates. Claiming that all Australians should be subject to the same laws with no groups given any special status is a way station on the road to arguing that Aborigines are already getting advantages other Australians do not get.  It used to be said in the American South that the secret of maintaining political power involved reminding poor whites that they were better off than blacks, and keeping their focus on the points of distinction so that they did not see who was benefiting from the disadvantage of both.

So that the GOOD and NOBLE may adorn themselves with shiny MEDALS!

By 1967, Aborigines could vote in every part of Australia. But they did not have to, and there were only a few areas where there was a discernible indigenous vote.  Now indigenous voters number about a third of the voters in many parts of rural NSW, and one might think that enough to guarantee a Yes vote. Yet in some rural NSW Aboriginal communities, some Aborigines will vote no. In those parts, I doubt that this is because of the cause fronted by Jacinta Nampijinpa Price, a personality of a type and with backers of a sort that many voters will recognise.  It’s more likely that it’s the cry of exclusion and despair being pitched by senator Lidia Thorpe of Victoria. Some will do that because they fear that voting yes may end up compromising an ultimate sovereignty argument. Others feel that they have not personally or collectively benefited much from 50 years of Aboriginalprograms, and believe the money, and the initiative behind the Voice has gone to Aboriginal fat cats and will only increase their relative advantage. Some others will vote yes, but without much enthusiasm, if only because they dislike people associated with the No campaign more than those arguing for yes.  At local levels in parts of rural NSW there is, so far, little momentum.  And the idea that having a constitutionally-mandated Voice will transform the local situation is a hope, not a certain solution for all difficulties. There will never be a short cut away from politicking, arguing, rationing, making choices and having winners and losers. But it might be a fairer contest if Aboriginal opinion were to carry more weight and influence, and receive more respect.

Although traditional wisdom has it that referendums always fail if there is significant opposition from even one substantial group, I think that the same-sex marriage plebiscite suggests new possibilities for constitutional referendum questions containing a considerable moral and emotional appeal. Particularly when it is pitched at the idea of closure of old hatreds, hostilities and resentments, promise of a more inclusive and cooperative future, and realisation that recognition promotes equality before the law. Far from raising one group unfairly above others, a Yes vote may help create a level playing field.  But I still dread the prospect that in some of the old battlegrounds there is still a mood for conflict rather than peace.  There are pockets of the land where there are people right out of touch and sympathy with the national mood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYLKGIf68So

Are you the one who’s gonna stand up and be counted?

But, sadly there are always some who still COMPLAIN!

Jack’s presentation is nicely self-contained.  I am loath to add to it, but can’t contain myself when responding to our own Mr. Potato Head with his demand for more detail.  Rather disingenuous me thinks.  Talk about the goose and the gander and the pot and the kettle.  How much detail were we given about Morrison’s underwater wet dream?  What Minister was he acting as when he cobbled AUKUS together? Can we please see the advice the then Attorney General was given?

As for Albanese’s counter attack, also disingenuous.  He should leave such gratuitous undignified criticism of the naysayers to people like me.

Tot we elkaar weer ontmoeten,

Frenk