views of australia – sillysocksonfriday

Maybe the end of the road…?

It was a joyous event! The communication, administration and facilities were excellent.

Last night, herself and myself pledged our troths to Australia. Happily and gratefully! We sang the anthem with gusto – it is a cut above the average God save dirges and visions of eagles and flags.

There were 166 new citizens originating from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe.

We both wore Swazi ligcebesha to signify our roots.

Good friends and the daughter of other friends also completed the political genuflection with us.

In order to reassure us in this hitherto foreign land, we were welcomed no less than five times. The MC doing so twice. Of course he was a pollie, as was the acting Mayor, acting on behalf of the Minister of Home Affairs, who also welcomed us.

Auntie Someone, an elder on one of the the three Aboriginal councils corresponding to the clans in the Quandamooka area, kindly explained th origin of the welcome practice. It originated with border control warriors thousands of years ago, welcoming strangers at their clans’ boundaries. I suppose quite a lot like our BorderControl Force.

It was a mild indoctrination session, underlining the importance of immigration which is probably the second hottest political potato in the world today. (The most important being energy).

We got over that and pledged our troths to this grand country quite happily, singing the anthem with joy! Afterwards we each received a little tree to plant in our new country, which is a grand gesture

Certainly, it was the best such ceremeony that I have undergone. I say this with a slight hint of cynicism, as I have some experience in this field.

As a child of the colonial empires born in the 1950’s, I have been wafted by the winds of change and obliged to acknowledge a number of polities.

I was born in Swaziland, a British Protectorate in Southern Africa, now the Kingdom of Eswatini.

My parents were Southern African born British citizens, both in states that no longer exist: Dad in the Cape Colony and a year later Mum in the Union of South Africa – both states now in the Republic of South Africa.

Notwithstanding my registration as a British citizen, I was also a Swazi citizen by birth and travelled on a Swaziland passport. Some years after the granting of independence, King Sobhuza discarded the Westminster constitution inherited from the British and commenced rule as a King in Council.

In an overtly political attempt to eradicate a political upstart, the King ruled that only second generation born Swazis were entitled to citizenship. Consequently, my attempt to renew my Swazi passport was rejected – I was only first generation born.

The Brits chased me away, despite my parentage and registration as a citizen as a child: The right to British citzenship was extinguished by the Swaziland instrument of Independence – a nasty sidestep clearly aimed at limiting claimants to British ‘protection’. The perfidy of Albion!

So in 1980 I was stateless, stuck in war torn Zimbabwe Rhodesia. When I asked, they gave me a passport without any need to apply for citizenship. It was either that or a UN Displaced Person’s Passport – soon to become quite common.

Luckily, my grandmother found my Irish grandfather’s baptism certificate and I applied for Irish citizenship and a passport, which I still have.

No ceremony, just fill in a form, send photos and certificates and a fee.

I am still an Irish citzen. “Go raibh maith agaibh”

Having left Zimbabwe, (which was Rhodesia, then Zimbabwe-Rhodesia), I lived in the Republic of South Africa for 14 years as a temporary, then permanent resident. I was not suffciently in favour of that government to choose to become a citizen, despite the right to do so through my parents.

In 1986 things were burning in South Africa so we got the forms to emigrate to Australia. 40 years ago!

This was postponed by the arrival of one then two more babies…

We tried again in 1996 finding that we had insufficient immigration points to enter Australia but enough for New Zealand. We intended to move to Australia from there.

We arrived in New Zealand in 1998 and became citizens in 2001. That was a good ceremony in a church hall, some te reo Maori waiata, serious and solemn – no tree to plant.

But Australia didn’t support university student loans and we had 4 children …. so we stayed in Aotearoa.

By 2013 most of our children were in Australia or elsewhere overseas, so we made the jump, happily. New Zealand was good to us, but just a bit too far out of town…

Now all our children are here, we have 7 grandchildren and a solid happy home.

I am also still a New Zealand citizen

My last 2 children should soon become Australian citizens and then I will rest.

The right of residence has become the most important thing in the world – to have that in a solid and safe economy and society is a gift that must be nurtured and protected.

From Brit to Swazi to Irish and Kiwi and Ozzie.

No more – Australia is the end of my road.

To avoid any confusion I must add that my roots remain African and the Springboks are still my number One team.

Winter fruit

The late summer stonefruit are now declining in quality and increasing in price. There have been no mangoes for a long time..

I bought some naartjies and oranges today – they are likely to be my fruit staples for some months. I think farmers are going to battle with diminished and expensive fuel…

Damn! I didn’t want to go along that ugly road!

From 6 a.m. until 5 p.m. there is a shrieking hullabaloo of rainbow lorikeets in the big Golden Penda tree next door. They get drunk on the nectar from the bright yellow flowers then spend the day shrieking at each about how good life is!

5 p.m. must be Nature’s closing time as the noise ceases like it has been switched off! Until then it is a rowdy, unrestrained party. You may be unlucky enought to be pee’d upon as they fly shreiking from tree to tree.

They fly straight at you and only veer away at the last moment!

I love them! So quintessentialy Australian.

They are not alone: they have a midday siesta and that is the time that the noisy friar demonstrates his unusual squawking, creaking call which is so unmusical it makes one grin! Every now and then the resident noisy miner flock think they see a snake and they set up an enormous racket!

In early mornings there is also the maniacal cackle of the kookaburras and the crow choir practice, conducted succesively in all four corners of their patch.

When herself worked night shift she used to rush out and clash cymbals at the crows, who still generally avoid Bahr Palace.

Do other countries have birds that are actually called ‘noisy’? I know there are howler monkeys elsewhere…

Life goes on … just ignore the news and keep your head down and all the stuff over there will disappear….

Awake!

The Bondi Beach massacre gave rise to a number of raw thoughts.

Can indiscriminate massacre in a peaceful community be justified by the claim of retaliation for people killed in retaliatory attacks on soldiers within a community?
Will the hero, who may well be a Moslem, be safe in Australia?
How long before vigilantism rears its ugly head?
Surely this will see a swing to the right, with more following Barnaby Joyce’s direction?
Will the right to keep and bear arms become of political moment?
I thought Netanyahu’s accusation against the Australian government was spot-on!

“Your government did nothing to stop the spread of antisemitism in Australia. You did nothing to curb the cancer cells that were growing inside your country. You took no action. You let the disease spread and the result is the horrific attacks on Jews we saw today.”

On a slightly different theme, I was irritated to see the soberly dressed morning show talking heads at the murder scene. Somehow, vultures came to mind. Virtue signalling and looking for gobbets of human pathos are not really what journalists should do.

Not a word yet from Coalition or right wing pollies: too afraid to grasp the nettle.

This is their opportunity to show up the woke, weak Albaanese government for the weak and ineffective leaders they are!

I can almost hear their twittering: “you go first, no it should be you,…. but what shall we say…..”

AAaaarghhh!!

We need someone to speak clearly and simply:

no more refugees or immigrants from Palestine and Sudan, no more potential supporters of radical Islam
get tough on youth crime
stop the mad stampede into renewables
stop buying votes with rebates

Men are qualified for civil liberty, in exact proportion to their disposition to put moral chains upon their own appetites. . . . Society cannot exist unless a controlling power upon will and appetite be placed somewhere, and the less of it there is within, the more there must be without. It is ordained in the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds cannot be free. Their passions forge their fetters.

The debilitating effect of false sympathy, created by a misguided education

Edmund Burke “A Letter to a Member of the National Assembly”

Paying us with our own credit card

We choose government representatives. They decide how much money to collect from us. They also determine how to spend it for our benefit.

We expect them to be honest, disciplined, anticipatory and prudent.

We expect them to spend only what they can collect.

Without fear, favour or prejudice.

Just before an election the current Australian government is paying more money to every household.

It will have to borrow money to do so.

Is it trying to persuade us it is a good government by paying us money that we will have to pay back?

Well, Jim Horner, that is our pie and our plum – you are not a good boy!

If the people re-elect this government, they deserve what they will have to pay for.

In the future, more will have to be spent on government debt than on services to the people.

This has go to stop!

Winter is gone

The path I walked this morning was strewn with small branches bearing sprays of gum flowers, strewn by honey drunk lorikeets. The flowers still had a rich honey scent.

The birds shriek even louder now and the crows chuckle and cawl, marking their territories. A noisy friar flew over with a twig in its beak for a nest in our jacaranda. I was swooped by a butcher bird in the usual place.

When I sit on the stoep in the morning, the shrill birds’ calls are almost annoying, but their joy overrides the irritation.

The wattle mimosa is almost over, now the bauhinias are flowering, to be followed by jacaranda and eventually flamboyant Poinciana.

On our walk I have seen two dead snakes, so they are on the prowl too.

Winter is gone.

This poem always reminds me of the circle of life, mostly grim but the idea of a crows’ nest embellished with ‘gowden’ hair is almost amusing. It is not by Robbie Burns; its origin is unknown.

Twa Corbies

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t’other say,
‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day?’

‘In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.

‘His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady’s ta’en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.

‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een.
Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair,
We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare.

‘Mony a ane for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken whare he is gane:
O’er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.’

Early morning Australia

Up by 5a.m. – humid already, but not unbearable.

Lulu and I set off on her walk; she checks each house on the left today, sniffing for new smells … or scraps.

No-one else about apart from the birds. Butcher birds whistle to each other, wood ducks qwuackle softly from up in a dead gum tree; the local kookaburra guardian of the park watches with its hard smile and calculating eye.

Cockatoos shriek at the morning flock of corellas which cackle back derisively; the Pacific Koel repeats its whistle warning of rain to come. Noisy miners live up to their name shrieking their anxieties to all and sundry.

Another wood duck has lost her mate and is quacking mournfully: where are you, I am worried, come back.. They pair for life so separation anxiety is severe.

Four young bush turkey males scavenge the path near the creek, keeping a weather eye for the local boss turkey with his bright yellow necklace – he can’t stand other male turkeys.

The swamp hens (pukekos in New Zealand) have re-built heir nest on the rock in the middle of the creek for the fourteenth time. Their chicks are now grown and forage for themselves. Pacific black ducks flash past to skim land on the creek in the clear water surrounded by lily pads.

A turtle stretches its neck on a tree in the river watched by three water dragons posing in the sun at different spots on the bank.

The Willy Wagtail twitters questions at us as we pass by over the bridge; the wood duck with fishing line on its leg scampers away again – Redlands Wildlife will again try to catch her soon.

The tawny frogmouths huddle in the tree over the road, almost invisible.

The morning crow choir chorus in Bahrs’ corner gum tree disturbs sleepers for miles around.

The blue faced honeyeaters search the last jacaranda flowers for nectar and the white ibis shiftily sidles out our drive.

Home again – a good start to the day.

Friday thoughts-Winter, 2023

“….. a bullet at dawn is better than being dismebered by a shell…” a line from a Sebastian Faulks novel “Snow Country“.

A soldier’s realism making desertion and the entailed disparagements of cowardice a better choice than savage maiming or horrible death. Life choices can be brutal.

The context was involvement in the Brusilov Offensive of World War 1 which probably turned the war in the Allied favour and incidentally, had one of highest casualties rates of that terrible war.

It was fought in North West Ukraine, about 107 years ago. That poor country.

Today I harvested two granadillas from my vines, which have a promising crop. I will trade them for some of our neighbours navel oranges which glow on their tree and are the sweetest, best oranges ever!

Lulu was attacked by a white ball of fur and had her tail pulled – fortunately Rosie saved her and calmed the neighbours who were aghast by their pet’s aggression. She is a wonder, that woman!

We have seen a Koala in the vicinity – he is a local lad, difficult to spot, but has been around for years.

The Higgins/#metoo/Parliamentary sex scandal is gaining traction…. evidence is emerging of secret support and lies in Parliament. Will a few more Ministers crash and burn in this sordid saga?

It seems the Voice may be getting a wee bit hoarse. There was a suggestion that focus thereon was a way to distract the populace from the pain of a shrinking economy, housing shortages, rising inflation and high minimum wage increases.

Looks like the Reserve Bank Governor is going to be sacrificed for raising interest rates to combat the inflationary increase in wages by the government and its agencies. Jim Chalmers seems to be quite a nasty chap!

The Australians are well on the way to walloping the Indians at the Oval – I am horrified that Ashwin was omitted, so maybe it is deserved. He is a wonder!

Thank God for cricket, rugby has been getting a bit boring…

Using my Voice

David Pocock was a great rugby player and I admire his impetus and integrity as a Senator. He recently called on Rugby Australia and all sporting bodies to support the call for a Voice in Australia.

I take exception to that – to me it’s like telling all sportspeople they must take a knee.

Consequently, I read the Uluru Statement from the Heart*. I regret that I was disappointed but not surprised.

I accept this document represents the views and beliefs of many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders and that these various indigenous peoples were the sovereign rulers of Australasia at the time of European colonisaion.

Sovereignty relates to power. So, prior to colonisation, the indigenous people had the power over the land. They certainly were not united as one people and battles were common ** and it is assumed sovereignty over land changed over time – that is the explicit nature of mankind.

Colonisation is an economic force and those who are technologically superior will prevail, by seduction or force or both. The colonised are suppressed until over time they are assimilated or rise up and overthrow the colonists. That is the history of mankind.

The Uluru statement infers that longevity of possession confers eternal sovereignty over the land and states that the indigenous people “must one day return thither and be united with …. ancestors”.

It is remarkable to note the religosity that surrounds this concept of custody and ownership of the land – it has permeated Australian social values and is pronounced at every major public spectacle. A remarkable public relations coup!

Attachment to the land and access to the graves of ancestors is not just an Aboriginal thing – but they have made it iconic.

It cannot be disputed that Aboriginals have proportionally higher representation amongst the incarcerated and that children are alienated from their families at unprecedented rates. There are protestations that “we are not innately criminal” which suggests that while there may be evidence they committed crimes or abuse, they should somehow be exonerated as the victims of rapacious colonists.

Whatever and wherever, there is a strong case for effective and cohesive actions to be taken to facilitate opportunities to escape the spiral of ignorance, indulgence, poverty and crime.

However, the guilt scars left by the treatment of the stolen generation are strongly etched in the Australian psyche and the Voice is possibly seen as a simple way to ease that guilt. Virtue signalling is very fashionable at the moment…

The statement talks of possession of the land i.e. ownership … does that not suggest that ultimately there must be compensation for historical dispossession at today’s values?

It seems that the Voice is saying: Show me the money…!

In the US, some local governments are contemplating compensating present day African Americans for the hardships of slavery. The Canadian government will pay A$3billion in compensation to hundreds of Indigenous communities for decades of abuse suffered by First Nations, Métis and Inuit children in residential schools. The Maori in New Zealand have wrung millions from the Crown in recent years, which is an enticing precedent.

In the African sub-continent of my birth, there is a great push by Nguni tribes for return or recompense for land they once possessed for a while, and they are not even of First Nations aristocracy, just recent tenants!

Let us be clear on what is being sought:“substantive constitutional change and structural reform….to empower our people…... a Makaratta Commission to supervise a process of agreement making between governments and First Nations”

This is needed to end “the torment of our powerlessness“

The indigenous people are seeking more power than that which they share with non-indigenous Australians.

This is a classic manifestation of Woke thinking: generate guilt and moral wrong by highlighting historical inequalities and injustices and impute the blame on the current electorate and demanding rectification by reconstructing society and its institutions.

This is a modern application of democracy based only on sentiment.

Looked at objectively, granting more power to Indigenous people will only differentiate them more and cost more, with no guarantee of upliftment.

Beneficial action to uplift segments of society does not require constitutional amendment it requires clarity of purpose, consultation and adherence to a course of action.

Before you vote in the referendum, think carefully about the implications and why you are doing it.

Is it just to show you are sorry or do you believe it is right to give more power (money) to a differentiated sector of the population, based on that difference?

And who will be next? L G B T Q I … ?

*Uluru Statement from the Heart referendumcouncil.org.au/sites/default/files/2017-05/Uluru_Statement_From_The_Heart_0.PDF

** https://international-review.icrc.org/articles/indigenous-australian-laws-of-war-914

A patsy or a grifter?

“Patsy” – American slang for somebody who has been set up to take the risk and the blame.

“Grifter” – con artist,scammer

There are a number of ways to attack a government other than in open Parliament and through the ballot box.

What better than a sex scandal ?

‘A sex scandal the party can be proud of. Another Barnaby but without the baby haha,’

Maybe somebody thought about that and made a plan.

So, around 4 a.m. one Saturday morning in March 2019, about a fortnight before a federal election is called, the female parliamentary aide who texted about a sex scandal, is found by security, lying naked on a couch in a minister’s office. Woohoo! Imagine the media potential – an Australian Watergate!!

She says she is okay, turns over and goes back to sleep, eventually leaving at about 10 am that morning.

Cleaners are sent in to clean the office, but find nothing suggestive of inappropriate conduct. (Seems a somewhat routine response for a serious place like a Minister’s office?)

The following Tuesday, explanations are sought from the woman and the man with whom she had entered the buiding as to the propriety of their entry so late at night. The woman raises sexual impropriety and reports to Police at Parliament. She hadn’t reported this before.

The man is dismissed for inapproriate entry to (not at) Parliament and another unrelated matter. I wonder why she wasn’t fired too? Passing out drunk and naked in a Minister’s office?

Some 2 weeks later an election is called by the Prime Minister. Two days after that, the complainant withdraws her complaint to the Police.

In October 2020, the media and a union raise questions about workplace culture in Parliament. A review ensues as there are other shaggy stories about after hours Parliamentary hijinks. The plot thickens…

In January 2021, the woman resigns after a meeting with a prominent journalist. Hmmm!

Two days after an interview is recorded for publication, the woman re-ignites her complaint first made 22 months before with the Police.

Former MP’s, Ministers and a Prime Minister are all tarnished by allegations about their parts in the piece.

A minister is obliged to apologise for calling the complainant “a lying cow” – talk about power!

A book deal for $325000 is offered.

Notwithstanding Police advice that the case is weak and the complainant unreliable, the Director Of Public Presecution decides to proceed. Did he jump or was he pushed?

The trial commences in October 2022. The complainant is not a good witness with inconsistent and improbable evidence. She takes a mid-trial break for mental health reasons and repeatedly weeps in public … something she said she could do again on tv, if required.

The jury is undecided and a protracted deliberation ensues. Fortuitously or unfortunately, a juror is found to have considered material extraneous to the trial and a mistrial is declared.

The plot gets thicker… The complainant goes to work for a former Labor Prime Minister!

But wait there’s more – both parties are now suing for damages, the complainant apparently while still under treatment for a mental condition.

No one has yet openly raised the possibility that the complainant is lying.

Other than her word, which is not convincing, there is no corroboratory evidence indicating sex occured.

Maybe her fragile nerves are a consequence of lies and the temptation of feminist fame and big bucks?!

Maybe she is a patsy, being manipulated by others?

There is big money and acres of potential scandal. Maybe she is a grifter…?

My money is on the former. I reckon she’s been inflated by others who see benefit in prolonging the chaos that has ensued.

It is important that you think about this matter which has extremely wide repercussions:

It probably contributed to the LNP election loss and downfall of a Prime Minister
Parliamentary security was demonstrated as culpably lax; there is a strong suggestion that late night shenanigans are not unusual.
The DPP’s initial decision to prosecute was improper, at worst by political direction, which indicates gross interference and dereliction of duty
The attempts to amend the Evidence Act suggest further political involvement
The civil damages suits are likely sponsored by wealthier parties than the man and woman. Cui bono?
There has been clear evidence of manipulation by the media

From a wider perspective, it is clear that our judicial system needs serious review.

Victims of sexual violence need to be better protected but not at expense of the presumption of innocence.
The Jury system is no longer fit for purpose.
The right to silence should be suspended by warrant based on substantial implicatory evidence. In other words, if a magistrate is satisfied that sufficient evidence exists to require explanation, he shall issue a directive requiring the person implicated to answer questions, perhaps in a closed court session.
Lie detector tests should be required for all witnesses.

An Enjoyable Lenten Obligation

Those of you who know me or who follow my currently sporadic blog, are aware that I was raised a Catholic, steeped in the conventions and rituals of that ancient organisation.

So, when Lent comes around I attempt to focus on objectives requiring some discipline. Sadly my resolve to skip one meal a day and ride more kilometers on my bike only lasted a week.

However I am glad to say that I have approximately completed one objective, which was to paint at least one sketch a day. Approximately, because I missed some days and did some in batches – but I did at least 40 during Lent.

Regrettably, like my writings, most are mediocre; but here and there a glint of almost art may peek through.

I promised my sister in law I would post them all, so here they are. Please do exclaim on the variety of colours to be found in leaves. (There is no need to mention the unsophistication of the artist – he is cognisant thereof.)

Like any good showman, the best is saved for last!