Occasionally you get a journalist, who is “out there’. And i mean this in the nicest possible way. Sam de Brito was one of those. He antagonised so many people with his confronting, forthright ‘in your face style’, that it’s sad to see such an outspoken (but not incoherent) individual dead. Sadder still at the young age of 46.

The incomprehensible thing is that Sam existed at all, and was given a voice by  the mainstream media. But then, that was the charm of de Brito, he’d make his voice heard no matter what. He died at home last week. He was in an interesting phase of this life, a self confessed, narcissist, and inventor of what louis Nowra described as “Dick Lit”, de Brito found a softness against all the hard words, ( if the obituaries are correct) in a love for his daughter. A hard angry man finding an inner peace. His last piece; “Why parents should share a bed with their children”, expressed a basic truth about relationships and family that no one else would feel comfortable with.

I think that’s what marks de Brito out. When the world is awash with those trying to ask us “how we feel’, and bookshops are still nauseatingly full of self help books designed to articulate the “reason why” to the unconstructed, dull and needy, de Brito just came out with his own version of reality. There was no ‘how do you feel?’, just the confrontational; ‘ This is how it is, and if you can’t accept that reality go and take a good hard look at yourself’. His direction was singular and acute. de Brito had a specialist skill in peeling back the layers. As a self confessed ‘outsider’ being bullied at school for being the ‘token wog” his anger gave special direction to the good natured Eddie Maguire type racism. Which in turn made those accused a little uncomfortable and just a little bit angry themselves.

Perhaps to some, the thinking person’s Andrew Bolt. (Apologies to Sam).

His take on the Adam Goodes “King Kong” episode, as pure and simple racism prepared us for the ‘boo-fest’ when Goodes, Australian of the year, complained about the mob behaviour that followed. de Brito the provocateur, went to the unpleasant truths about ourselves. His provocative view of feminism as distinct from sexism, enraged many, and he was always there to up the ante on the cherished prejudices we all grow up with. His most strident attacks being directed against the ingrained racism of aboriginal jokes, and the baggage of presumptions and prejudice that go with it. A strange and rare beast, confronting, angry, (often) and pleading for all of us to take a different perspective. Often, an uncomfortable perspective searingly blunt with the hope that by confrontation we  may perhaps see a bit of ourselves. As outsiders rather than the insiders we’d rather be.

de Brito was not into self censorship. His was a flame that burnt brightly. His loss will be felt by many. And we hope that his spirit lives on.

A treat.
A poem you can eat.

Nero Wolfe and his cook Fritz have prepared sumptuous recipes in the style of those of the famous British TV motorcycling cooks –Two Fat Ladies (and it is worth the two minutes to watch the linked video  ).  Nero Wolfe: “I beg you not to entrust these dishes to your cook unless he is an artist.  Cook them yourself, and only for an occasion that is worthy of them.”

Baked Scallops
The introduction is from Archie Goodwin, assistant to detective Nero Wolfe.
“When I returned to the office after letting her out, Wolfe had straightened up in his chair to lean forward and, with his head cocked, was sniffing the air.  For a second I thought he was pretending our ex-client had polluted the atmosphere with her perfume, but then I realised that he was merely trying to catch an odour from the kitchen, where Fritz was baking scallops in shells – or, probably, since I could catch the odour without sniffing, he was deciding whether Fritz had used only shallots in the sauce or had added an onion.”

1 cup dry white wine
1 cup water
1 bay leaf
6 black pepper corns
1 pound cleaned bay scallops
5 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon minced shallots
3 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 sprig parsley
1 pinch nutmeg
2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs
1/4 cup freshly grated Gruyère cheese

Preheat the oven to 350f. In a large saucepan, bring the wine and the water to the boil.  Add the bay leaf, peppercorns, and the washed scallops and return to the boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer for 3 or 4 minutes.  Drain the scallops and set aside.  In a small, heavy-bottomed pan melt 3 tablespoons of the butter and cook the minced shallots until translucent but not browned.  Add the flour and stir constantly until it starts to turn golden.  Gradually stir in 1 1/2 cups of the hot broth in which the scallops were cooked.  Continue to cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce thickens.  Add 1/2 teaspoon of the salt, the sprig of parsley, and the nutmeg, and cook for a few more minutes.  Strain the sauce into a bowl and add the scallops, the chopped parsley, lemon juice, and the remaining salt.  Stir well. Butter 4 or 6 baking shells and divide the scallop mixture evenly among them.  Combine the breadcrumbs and cheese; sprinkle the mixture over the filled shells and dot with the remaining butter.  Bake 20 to 25 minutes, or until the tops are golden. (serves 4 to 6 as a first or luncheon course)

Thanks to Rex Stout.

My mouth is watering. What wonderful poetry this is.  

This Dispatch was originally distributed 21 December 2012.

Feliz natal meus amigos,

Soon after we married we stayed at the Norseman (W.A.) caravan park. It was during the nickel-boom and the Vietnam War was raging.

The main topic of conversation amongst older caravan dwellers wasn’t the nickel-boom nor the Vietnam War, but the numerous medical interventions they had experienced.

Operating theatre took precedence over War theatre.

Back then that perennial adage: “There but for the grace of God go I” didn’t occur to us. We thought we had eternal youth. We considered the caravan dwellers to be a bunch of boring old farts.

From Martín Fierro (a 19^th.Century classic Argentine poem):

El tiempo: ……
No tuvo nunca principio
ni jamas acabará,
porque el tiempo es una rueda,
y rueda es eternidá.

Time:
Never had a beginning
Nor will it ever end,
because time is a wheel
and wheel is eternity.

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and ’round and ’round
In the circle game
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FcgPLCtYwM  Joni Mitchell 1966

Trust in me, baby, give me time, gimme time, um gimme time.
I heard somebody say, oh, “The older the grape,
Sweeter the wine, sweeter the wine.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXwQU1vNOqA Janis Joplin

Eternal time has come full circle. I have just undergone a ‘procedure’ at St. Andrews Hospital in Adelaide. Turns out I didn’t have eternal youth. I am now one of those boring old farts.

I shall refrain from elaborating on my Hospital ‘adventure’, instead I will tell you a few things about Oil Exploration.

Before drilling an expensive exploration well, they do an ultra-sound of the area of interest. This is known as a seismic survey. Signals are fed into the ground. The earth’s innards have an effect on the signals, and the reflections and refractions are recorded and converted into images. Rock layers and structures are revealed in which bladder shaped accumulations of hydrocarbons may occur. If these accumulations are overlain by non-permeable rocks (known as ‘cap rocks’), the upward and outward flow of these hydrocarbons is prevented. This could be called ‘retention’. Pressure builds up, and when such accumulations are drilled into, a drill stem test is performed. A catheter like drill pipe string is inserted into the well . By rotating the drill pipe, an inflatable packer is blown into a balloon shape which isolates the heavy column of drilling mud from the bladder shaped accumulation, which is then allowed to flow. Flow rates , volume, pressure, temperature etc. are continuously monitored until a steady regular controlled flow is achieved. If warranted the well is converted into a production well. If a worthwhile flow is not achieved, the well is plugged and abandoned. These ‘dry’ wells are known as ‘dusters’. Possibly the genesis of the phrase “he bit the dust”.

Production wells will as they age have reduced flows. For example perforations may get blocked by swelling clays, and the well may require a ‘procedure’ known as a ‘work-over’ to re-stimulate free flow.

If you are now going to call me a boring old fart, please don’t do it overtly, and least of all on Facebook. Obrigado!

Whilst in Adelaide I had the luxury of having access to a daily newspaper. Amongst other things there were the ten pages devoted to the Duchess of Cambridge’s morning sickness and its implications. The raging civil war in Syria scored a few paragraphs in the same paper.
Just as people google their own names or spend hours on that narcissistic virtual field: livro de rosto

So I scoured the pages for anything pertaining to the Northern Territory. Apart from the tragic murder of the daughter of a well known Alice Springs identity, I couldn’t find a thing. Northern Territory terra nullius.

But then I stumbled across it- an article in the Australian (Dec. 6^th. 2012) leading off with:

“ An ambitious scheme giving welfare recipients matched savings if they can save $500 has failed spectacularly in its first two years, with only 20 people receiving money….”

The ‘Matched Savings Payment Scheme’(‘MSPS’) is part of a $53 million investment in savings programs.

Jenny Macklin (my favourite) responded to criticism of these schemes (on the basis that they are failing to achieve their purpose) with: “I know how important learning these skills is to helping ensure families are bringing up children healthy and strong”

A statement of great social and political import:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-GFqhCq2HA Janis Joplin (again por que não)

Jenny Macklin is the undisputed Australian champion exponent of the non-sequitur.

I find it hard to fathom, indeed I’m flummoxed as to why the Warlpiri haven’t seized on the MSPS en masse. Take the lady who owes the Fines Recovery Unit over $2,000 for having had her children unrestrained in an unregistered ( unregistrable ) vehicle. All she need do is save $500 of non-Income Managed money whilst showing a pattern of saving over a minimum 13 week period and attend a money management course and the Government will match it with $500 of Income Managed money. Hey presto, she will have enough to pay almost half her fine!

She will then have been taught how to manage her non-existent money and be sure to bring up her children healthy and strong as she does her bit to Close the Gap and she and her children move forward into Stronger Futures!

The future’s so bright I gotta wear shades…..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpR4qt8joxc

Help!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3t8MeE8Ik4Y

So here is Jenny Macklin and her department offering this truly scintillating scheme the ‘Matched Savings Payment Scheme’. A veritable helping hand.

The four tops ‘Reach out I’ll be there’ 1967 (the year we stayed at the Norseman caravan park)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EaflX0MWRo

I really don’t get it.  No one at Yuendumu has reached out and claimed the $500 prize.

What’s the matter with these Warlpiri people?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJLEXgkddPQ

Ah shaddapa you face!

Vejo vocês no próximo ano

Francisco

Howard’s End. “A Mosque in Bendigo? Or is it; ‘Australia all Over”

Dear reader, the bones of this were assembled several weeks ago, before the change in P.M. Tellingly , the tone has changed. ‘Team Australia’ has been given the boot. We now seek engagement and conciliation as a way of engaging the public in a national conversation we must have. But for provincial Australia, the blurring between church and state, and the attractiveness of the iconic Aussie, hero battler and the bush’s sense of identity is imperilled by that fear of outsiders. I think it is John Howard’s enduring legacy. The reinforcement of insularity and the success of turning Iraq, (with the help of George and Tony) into a festering sore. I have lived in Bendigo for some twenty years. This insight may prove illuminating.

 So long as the people of the country are the real Australians, other people are less real. This might be only to say less distinctively Australian, or it might mean out of touch with reality and real people, and not knowing which side their bread is buttered on. Then again it might be an effete, parasitic bludgers; sybarites, late risers, people with no conception of what it is to be at the mercy of the elements, the needs of animals and soils, unreliable markets. E.J Brady, a friend of Henry Lawson and would-be Jack London of the bush, thought bank clerks and their like- the ‘idlers’ and ‘dandies’, ‘pygmies’ and ‘vegetables’ in the cities-were akin to a third sex. Bush people led lives of strength and usefulness”; city life was all ‘weakness and futility’. Bush people people did not need to think this to know this at some level. Don Watson. ‘The Bush’.

Bendigo’s proud place in our glorious wars. The South African Memorial stands proud!!

The first thing you encounter when arriving in Bendigo by road or train is the mighty Bendigo cathedral. At night from the steps of the gallery you can see the historical pattern of worship. Beautiful local churches, their spires, incandescent and illuminated, marking out the night sky as light pillars of perfect symmetry. The smaller Presbyterian, the Methodist and the Anglican, all beautifully expressing the quiet religious foundation of a grown country town. Hillaire Belloc waxed lyrically in “Path to Rome” the pilgrims progress to the cathedral lights at night. Spirituality beckoned. The same could be said for Bendigo, cept now, not in penitence, but to “outsiders” bussed and trained up to demonstrate a Christian rebuttal to Islam. Well not so Christian, the palpable foot soldiers of Islamiphobia. The Christian brand, post Royal Commission is losing traction. We’ve done a bit more growing up since we’ve lifted the lid on that “old style religion”.

The mighty Bendigo Cathedral. An acceptable place for worship.

Two councillors objected to a mosque. One Councillor who objected to the planning for Bendigo’s first mosque, last week, during the ‘riot, picnic, fete’, draped herself in the Australian Flag. She chose the site of the war memorial in Pall Mall. Bendigo’s celebrated main street. And she did this deliberately and consciously with all the photographic impact of Cronulla. In photographic terms it’s shorthand for “Crisis”.

To ask the reason why is to draw a half light of the Bendigo of the early Twentieth Century. Steeped in Sacrifice to ‘God, King and Country’. Bendigo has bypassed the growing pangs of the other provincials.

 A celebrated Victorian gold city, celebrated nowadays for its spectacular glory, its re- acquainted urbanism, it’s boisterous leaders and its ebullient sense of confidence. The Cathedral, is a personification in bluestone of spiritual heritage and contemporary optimism. But somewhere buried in the DNA set within the whimsical caricatures of St Gill, the rambunctious heady days of Gold are the fragments of the old Bendigo. The Bendigo of mining, and the quiet smoothing of the pillow for the aboriginal inhabitants. And the encouragement post Immigration Restriction Act 1901 for the vast bulk of Chinese immigrants to leave. To, in the words of the 1901 legislators, to ‘Keep Australia Pure’.

Saving us from ‘Islamification’. ‘National Action’ or whatever they call themselves. Queen Victoria would be proud that ‘her flag’ is being so proudly held.

 And who’s Australia? Did we pay the original owners for the gold we took? Did we erect those churches to sanctify our new found wealth? Did those politicians then, who founded white Australia, gain respectability and sanctity by a having their names inscribed on granite. Foundations are built on solid ground. In doing so, other less immovable spirits are erased. And do we now look to those churches as beacons of spiritual truth for the here and now? Or are they like old Bendigo, ossified and under-utilised. Perhaps that’s why politicians now use the political process as the pulpit, to compensate for the loss of relevance MOST of us find in that ‘ol kind a religion’. That’s perhaps why the front bench is so ideological, God’s soldiers filling the gap where once the mainstream used to be. And this notion of Australianism and un-Australian. My fathers generation fought fascism to make Australia welcoming. Now it seems it’s only the German’s who’ve learnt fascisms lesson. Being unwelcoming seems to be un-Australian. Deeply and insidiously un-Australian. The original Australians would find my reflections amusing.

Dear reader another scintillating snapshot of life in The United States of America. This instalment brought to you by G.T.Beauregard.

Clearly their own version of the Brownlow at the Crown Palladium

Saints coach Sean Payton has a charity. Eponymous, naturally: “Sean Payton’s Play It Forward Foundation”. Seein’ as the Aints are back in town Sunday night it seemed a good chance for SPPIFF to hold a fundraiser October 2. And so it came to pass: a Black and Gold Gala –pronouced “gayler”- was presented by Chevron at the Mercedes Benz Superdome. The décor was comme ça:
Not quite sure what this was about. Perhaps midgets eating icecream? That’s always amusing:

Bit like scene from ‘Logans Run’. Doubtless AFL Executives will be impressed

An aerial view of the “atmosphere”:

Entertainment was provided by local music royalty Irma Thomas, Darius Rucker and Better Than Ezra somebody or other.
The Times-Picayune fell over itself taking pictures on the red carpet, including a big smiler featuring Sean Payton presented by Chevron himself, along with several grinning attendees, including Skyler and Darlene Montgomery and their beautiful daughter named – wait for it – Skylene!
The Montgomerys hail from Mineral Springs, West Virginia. As the Parkersburg News and Sentinel reported in March 2008, Skylene was Miss West Virginia USA – not to be confused with Miss West Virginia Bangladesh – that year, and was guest of honor at a big bash at the Comfort Suites Mineral Springs shortly before her departure to compete in the Miss USA pageant at Planet Hollywood Resort and Casino, Las Vegas. Friends and family stopped by the Comfort Suites with gifts – chocolate and glazed donuts, no doubt. But Skylene, who holds a degree in exercise physiology, was having none of it. She had been eating “clean” – whole grains, chicken breast and greens – running the treadmill and doing weights in preparation for her big day. Photographs of Skylene “were placed throughout” the Comfort Suites and she signed copies for her fans.
Unlike Amanda Duffy née Burns – Miss West Virginia Teen USA 1997, Miss West Virginia USA 1999, Mrs West Virginia America 2004 and, back from the dead, in 2013, a two time champion wife, no less – Skylene has apparently overcome the disappointment of failing to persuade Mr Trump to crown her Miss USA 2008. She obviously continues to eat clean. Here she is – she’s the one next to Sean presented by Chevron, second from right:

Everybody loves Skylene!!!

Skyler is the sleek & happy one far left, Darlene next to him. The others blew in by mistake.
SPPIFF “focuses on helping families and children in need of services in the area of health, education and welfare”. These all sound like good things, the sort of things that can also be addressed by a functional system of taxation.
The evening’s particular beneficiaries were K9S for Warriors, Feed The Children and the Gleason Initiative Foundation. The first gives dogs to vets: veterans that is. It is simply not possible to go wrong in this country by invoking the debt real or imagined due to the former members of its armed services. There are many of them. Some were invited to the gala and were pictured standing proudly with their Labrador retrievers.
The Gleason Initiative Foundation is dedicated to the investigation and treatment of Lou Gehrig’s disease. Coincidentally, it takes its name from Steve Gleason, a former Saints player who suffers from it. Donations may be made to the foundation – tax deductible – or to Steve’s own family trust – non-deductible.
The ambitions of Feed The Children are somewhat greater than those of the others. It envisions a world in which “No child goes to bed hungry”, distributing food, medicine and educational supplies around the globe. Its website explains that “the biggest reason kids are hungry, both in the US and around the world, is poverty.” Now there’s something to think about. It also tells us the reasons American kiddies don’t always get the education they need:
“Many kids are also pressed into work at an early age to help their family earn a living. Others fall behind in school because their poor nutrition makes concentrating and learning difficult. And for some, education is hindered by issues with transportation, a lack of resources [I’m far from certain that this happens in the USA], or an absence of parental involvement [are we perhaps referring to “minorities” here?].
It’s a lot to wrap your head around. [It sure is! Mine is starting to hurt!] Child hunger isn’t something we can fix in a day or with one solution. We have to work every angle: food, water, education, and livelihoods.
We also know we, and these communities, can’t solve this alone. With the help of compassionate donors, skilled experts, and generous partners, we can break kids out of these cycles together.”
Thus, Feed The Children is a little like UNICEF, but blessedly free of the taint of socialism.
Media reports don’t disclose what the many guests had to eat, but the charity auction – conducted personally by Sean presented by Chevron – went off with a bang. Attendees generously vied for such things as a fishing trip to Costa Rica, a post-Grammy-award party and a custom made “Datmobile” in which to travel to Saints’ games with other members of the Who Dat nation. But it’s really about giving, not getting. The warm inner glow that comes from demonstrating that you can write a bigger check than that asshole from the north shore on the next table, “Yeah, hi! Howzitgoin? … Greaat, yeah, we’ll hafta ketchup … Loser.”
Meanwhile, the Aints are 0 from 3. There are calls for Sean’s head as coach. It’s all very well having a charity named “play it forward”, but the Aints are going backward, and staring down the barrel of 0 from 4 against the Cowboys in their hometown tomorrow night.

Bravo G.T. Please keep us informed, and we’re all thrilled you’re devoted so truly to giving us an inkling of the  Shape of things to Come”

The Macpherson Melba, Australias first Dirigible.

In the heady days of the late 20’s nothing seemed beyond the capacity of Australian engineering and technological knowhow. Spurred on by the recent success of Ross and Keith Smith in Southern Cross, and the success of Charles Lindbergh, the great philanthropist Macpherson Macrobertson then a board member of Qantas submitted a proposal for an Australian dirigible adapted from the the famous R101 and Hindenburg, being planned by both Great Britain and Germany respectively..

The specifications called for a lighter than air dirigible, hydrogen filled, with a capacity to carry at least twenty two passengers and some twelve crew in short hops from Melboune, Sydney, Brisbane, Darwin, and thereon to Singapore via Jakarta, Bombay and Calcutta. The design also called for the latest in radio communication, with the capacity to establish constant communication between London and Melbourne as a core criteria.

Faced with the innumerable logistics and challenges of construction, fit-out and gas provision, the established firm of Pustule, Bubo and Wheeze, Abbatoirists and chemical subsidiary of ICI were commissioned to provide gas bags derived from Cow stomach lining. The gas, being derived from the Spotswood pumping station to be piped to a purpose built hangar then under construction at RAAF Point Cook.

Faced with considerable public interest the designers, (Ronaldson Tippett and Co) were encouraged to conduct family field days in which the public for a fee were enthusiastically encouraged to explore the potential of gas powered flight. Before the tour the public were encouraged to savour the newly developed Chiko, cabbage derived rolls. The hangar was modified to contain residual gasses.

By 1930, the first prototype, the ‘Melba’ was ready, and the famous soprano was on hand to launch the mighty craft. Singing, ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles” she suffered a severe stroke upon this occassion tripping over the launching guy which almost resulted in a cataclysmic explosion that was averted by the quick thinking of an attendant who broke the prima donnas fall by throwing himself under the great Soprano. He was posthumously decorated with a Royal Humane Society Medal for Gallantry under pressure.

Dame Nellie. Before launching of her namesake.

With the onset of the Great Depression the taste for overseas travel declined. The project appeared doomed until by accident it was discovered during crossing of the Simpson Desert in an electrical storm the large promenade deck acting as a conductor could be utilised for harnessing radio waves. Both as a reflector and receiver. And was sturdy enough to hold at least eleven individuals for a sustained period of time. With this startling information, and the clarity of reception of a broadcast test from Headingly it was then decided to dispense with synthetic cricket, then in vogue, and use the central promenade during thunder storms for actual ‘live’ test cricket.

This revolutionised cricket and radio. Live transmissions could be beamed with perfect clarity to Lords and the MCG and with a special arial gondola suspended below the craft, signals were beamed to anywhere in the Commonwealth. Surprisingly, the power of the transmission was so strong it interrupted transmissions by none other than Alistair Cooke, in his weekly ‘letter from America’ with numerous score updates and detailed descriptions of play. This infuriated American broadcasters and threatened a diplomatic incident not seen since 1812 and threatened to stimulate the imagination of the Americans, not renowned for their cricket enthusiasm or imagination.

All seemed perfectly poised for the first test of the 1930 season, with the Australian test eleven on the field, with attendant umpires, whilst the rest of the English team were held forward for ballast with commentary, umpiring and scoring delivered from the specially constructed forward control deck.

In an exciting encounter all proceeded smoothly until on the Fifth test, whilst returning to Australia via Aden and Bombay the Melba encountered another electrical storm over the Simpson Desert. The English players refusing to capitulate due to light insisted on playing on to tie the series. The Australians reluctantly agreed, and during the final over the Melba struck by intense lightning, blew up, incinerating both teams support staff and crew.

The test was declared a draw, and the concept of intercontinental Dirigible test cricket was shelved. Though stimulating, the loss of balls whenever a fours or six were played and the unlikely prospect of retrieval during a lofted drive or damage to the gas bags when playing a yorker was tiresome. Though it was worth noting the reception, was excellent from both sides of the globe.

Macpherson Macrobertson went on to greater things after the Melba debacle.

Nothing is left of the Melba, a recovery expedition finding the burnt aluminium ribs in the Simpson Desert wryly remarked; ‘No visible sign remains of the Melba or the crew. All that reamain are the ashes’.

Macpherson Melba Specifications

General Characteristics

Crew: 12.
Passengers Up to 30
Range: 1500 miles
Powerplant: 4 x bristol Pegasus air cooled radial engines 635 hp (474 KW) each

Performance

Maximum speed: 143 mph, 239 kmh.
Range: 1,700 nm (1,960 mi, 3150 km)
Service ceiling; 19,000 ft (7,470m)
Rate of climb; 330 ft/min

Operator: Macpherson Macrobertson
The All Crimson, Empire Dirigible Co. Pty Ltd.

(First appeared in this blog on 18 August 2013)

The Cry of the Dreamer John Boyle O’Reilly (1844-1890)

I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.

I am sick of the showy seeming
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by.
From the sleepless thoughts’ endeavor,
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a thinker dies in a day.

I can feel no pride, but pity
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.
Oh, the little hands too skillful,
And the child-mind choked with weeds!
The daughter’s heart grown willful,
And the father’s heart that bleeds!

No, no! from the street’s rude bustle,
From the trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the woods’ low rustle
And the meadows’ kindly page.
Let me dream as of old by the river,
And be loved for the dream alway;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.

Notes
river: the Boyne, on whose south bank stands Dowth Castle, Drogheda, where O’Reilly was born.

meadow: Boyne Meadow, between the Boyne and Dowth Castle. page: paging, calling.

This Dispatch was originally distributed 9 November 2012. 

Dia duit arís mo chairde,

Paddy and Murphy bought a small truck. They drove out to the countryside and bought a load of cabbages from the farmers. They paid € 2.00 for each cabbage.

They drove back to Dublin and started knocking on those magnificent doors

http://youtu.be/QZN4qLSwS5U People are Strange…. The Doors…

They very quickly sold the cabbages. Their asking price? € 2.00 for each cabbage.

Back they raced to the country side and acquired another load of cabbages. They paid €2.00 for each cabbage.

Back in Dublin they again did a brisk business and sold the whole load. They sold this lot at € 2.00 for each cabbage.

“Patrick there is something not right, we’re not getting anywhere”

Patrick thought for a bit. “Maybe we should get a bigger truck”

Before writing their business plan (so as to get a loan to buy the bigger truck), Patrick and Murphy went to a Rory Gallagher concert:

http://youtu.be/GazzTFxXGeE

A Dispatchee kindly alerted me to the following:

Northern Territory: Addressing The “Crime Problem” Of The Northern Territory Intervention – Alternate Paths To Regulating Minor Driving Offences In Remote Indigenous Communities
Thalia Anthony, and Harry Blagg, 2012
Report to the Criminology Research Council Grant: CRC 38/09-10

For the sake of brevity I’ll cherry pick the 90-page (excellent) report (the emphasis are mine):

“…This study of the incidence of Indigenous driving offending was conducted by the authors in the Northern Territory from 2006 to 2010 on two central Australian communities. It demonstrates how new patterns of law enforcement, set in train by the 2007 ‘intervention’, inevitably led to a dramatic increase in the criminalization of Indigenous people for driving related offending….

Our research suggests that the criminalization of driving related offending represented an attempt to construct a new form of coercive, neo-assimilationist governmentality in the NT through which the state seeks to discipline, normalize and incorporate elements of the Indigenous domain into the mainstream. In Simon’s (2001, 2002) phase the state is effectively ‘governing through crime’: amplifying and dramatizing a particular crime problem (child sexual abuse) to legitimate an aggressive annexation of Aboriginal space….
….the processes and outcomes have been solidly fixated on eradicating key cultural differences between mainstream Australia and its Indigenous Other. Over the lifetime of the study we witnessed few indications that the state was effectively uncovering, let alone prosecuting, cases of child sexual abuse and/or family violence, but we did see significant changes taking place in the physical layout of the community and a significant increases in the numbers of Indigenous people being prosecuted for failing to adhere to new rules. The issue of driving and roads became a site of contestation and conflict between mainstream government and Indigenous communities…..”

The report is based on two Warlpiri communities, Yuendumu and Lajamanu.

Since the mid-2006 to 2010 the incidence of driving criminalisation increased 250% in the NT.

The prison population includes 25% driving offenders.

More than 80% of the prisoners are Indigenous.

“Mr. Attorney-General there is something not right, we’re not getting anywhere”

The Attorney-General thought for a bit. “Maybe we should build a bigger gaol”

…Walk with me, talk with me, tell me your story, and I’ll do my best to understand you….

http://youtu.be/DVBUao2SgW8

Go dtí go gcasfar le chéile sinn arís

Frank

De réir ceol éigin gnáth deas:

http://youtu.be/OFM_EXCrToE

Errol and Ronnie. On the Santa fe Trail.

Dear reader, recently Cecil had the good fortune to accompany a refined Lady on an anthropologically inclined tour of North America. Somewhere we are led to believe in the vicinity of Santa Fe. Our understanding of Santa Fe is limited, but what we can offer you is the insight gained by none other than our patron Errol Flynn when he starred in the stirring 1940 ‘Santa Fe Trail’ with the redoubtable Ronald Reagan. Apparently Ronald and Errol didn’t get on all that well. There was friction, unsurprisingly as they were bound for the B grade acting list and Ronald was determined to get there before Errol did. And of course fairly soon thereafter  Errol died, whilst Ronnie went on for the biggest gig in his acting career*.

Let’s hope Cecil wont die, because we’ll be killing ourselves to hear from him, and trust with fingers crossed and at twenty paces he’ll make a showdown, ride the bronco buck , and find a sunset to rid off into..   Perhaps you may gain an insight into the American upper echelons. (insert wealthy). Perhaps it will just confirm, your prejudice. Either way the ‘good ol’ is heading for a Trump Presidency. And I’m glad, because life without Tony is pretty dull.

Here now is news from Cecil, in his own hand.

‘Good god, I didn’t realise what I’d let myself in for.

This is a seriously luxury tour.  Accommodation is first rate (and expensive – so I’m pleased to experience it without having to pay).  The others on the tour are lovely, but tending towards neo-conservatism, the males particularly.  So Gina is good, Alan Bond bad – because he failed and was a crook anyway.  The head of Tata in India is a self made man who obviously achieved all he has through hard work, just like Gina.

The tour of Georgia O’Keeffe’s home, garden and studio was so rushed as to be almost offensive.  They’ve had the best summer rains in decades so the vegetation is lush, not desert like at all.  We’ve just had a magnificent champagne lunch in the countryside, some are now walking the galleries (i.e. expensive art for sale), I’m back to the museum quite the equal of the one in St Louis.  I said this to the attendant who told me their director had recently taken the position as director at St Louis!  Lots of information about the overlays – the direct Spanish descendants claim superiority over Mexicans, and both look down on the English who came so late.  Indians are treated in a similar way to the way we treat indigenous in Australia – show absolutely no respect for their heritage, stories or knowledge.  Nor for the fact that it was their land.

There are three American women on the tour, sisters ranging in age from beautiful to drop dead gorgeous – and not a straight tooth amongst them!!!  One worked in DC for the republican party –  I mentioned that the group had conservative tendencies.

She is in despair regarding the future of democracy, a despair I share, so we’ve had good talks.  I was reading how Bush snr congratulated Clinton when he came to office and wished him all the best and in fact helped him during his presidency.  The fear now is that the office of president is becoming debased, with the blame being on the intransigence of the Tea Party members of Republican congress.  Interestingly the Tea Party got its start as opposition and disgust at the bank bailouts after the GFC.  Strangely (or perhaps not), banks and Wall Street are now the major financial sponsors of the Tea Party!

I was chatting about this  with one of the Australians on the tour and happened to mention that the ongoing ‘birther‘ rubbish being another factor devaluing the presidency and he poo-hoo’d this saying Obama had brought it on himself, which of course brought me back to thinking of Adam Goodes and the reactionary suggestion that he has brought the booing of him on himself.  Of course he and Obama are both black and have ideas above their station.

Sorry to be so serious

Cheers’

Editor: What will happen to Cecil??. Will he make the conversion, will he be irradiated by perfect teeth, will he survive the perils of ol Santa Fe, catch up for more and less as Cecil and GT Beauregard report from ‘good ol’ New Orleans in our next thrilling installment.

* Footnote from an expert on the Santa fe Trail ( 1940)

John Brown and his gang of evil abolitionists terrorize Kansas in the 1850′s, but Errol Flynn and Ronald Reagan come to the rescue. The overall message is that reasonable people may disagree about slavery, but only fanatics are strongly opposed to it, and it’s a shame that Northern abolitionists caused a civil war over such a minor issue. In one surreal scene, one of the bad guys, acting all shifty and evil, tries to smuggle runaway slaves on the train. In another, slaves freed by Brown welcome their recapture by the army, because they miss their owners. Watched it all, mostly because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’m not sure what fascinates me more: The real history of John Brown, (who arguably was a terrorist), or the fact that a pro-slavery telling of his story stars major actors and a future president – and was one of the top movies of the year. IMDB reviewers say Santa Fe Trail is an inaccurate but honest look at the origins of the Civil War, which is fucking stupid.

In the city of Savannah, Georgia Cecil Poole came across a statue of General James Edward Oglethorpe that caught his interest.  The text is from the four sides of the plinth.

Statue of GEN J.E. Oglethorpe, Savannah GA. Note Live Oaks sans ‘strange fruit’

ERECTED BY THE STATE OF GEORGIA, THE CITY OF SAVANNAH AND THE PATRIOTIC SOCIETIES OF THE STATE TO THE MEMORY OF THE GREAT SOLDIER, EMINENT STATESMAN AND FAMOUR PHILANTHROPIST GENERAL JAMES EDWARD OGLETHORPE WHO THIS CITY ON THE 12TH DAY OF FEBRUARY A.D. 1733 FOUNDED AND ESTABLISHED THE COLONY OF GEORGIA.

George The Second, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, France and Ireland.  King.  Defender of the Faith, etc.  To all to whom these Presents shall come.  Greetings.

Whereas we are credibly informed, that many of our subject . . . would be glad to be settled in any of our provinces in America, where by cultivating the lands at present waste and desolate, they might not only gain a comfortable subsistence for themselves and families, but also strengthen our colonies and increase the trade navigation and wealth of these our realms.

And whereas our provinces in North America have been frequently ravaged by Indian enemies, more especially that of South Carolina, which in the late war, by the neighboring savages was laid waste with fire and sword, and great numbers of the English inhabitants miserably massacred: and our loving subjects who now inhabit there . . . will in case of any new war will be exposed to the like calamities inasmuch as their whole southern frontier continueth unsettled and lieth open.

And whereas we think it highly becoming our crown and royal dignity to protect all our loving subjects be they never so distant from us.

Know ye therefore that we have . . . of our special grace, certain knowledge and mere motion willed ordained constituted and appointed . . . our right trusty and well beloved John, Lord Viscount Percival of our Kingdom of Ireland, our trusty and well beloved Edward Digby, George Carpenter, James Oglethorpe, George Heathcote, Thomas Tower, Robert More, Robert Hucks, Roger Holland, William Sloper, Francis Eyles, John LaRoche, James Vernon, William Belitha, Esqrs., Stephen Hales, A.M., Arthur Bedford, A.M., Samuel Smith, A.M., Adam Anderson and Thomas Coram, Gentlemen; . . one body politic and corporate by the name of The Trustees for establishing the Colony of Georgia in America . . .

Know ye therefore that we greatly desiring the happy success of the said corporation do give and grant to the said corporation and their successors . . . seven undivided parts, the whole in eight equal parts to be divided, of all those lands, countries and territories situate, lying and being in that part of South Carolina in America, which lies from the most northern stream of a river there commonly called the Savannah, all along the sea coast to the southward unot the most southern stream of s certain other great water or river called the Alatamaha, and westward from the heads of the said rivers respectively in direct lines to the South Seas and all that space, circuit and precinct  of land lying within the said boundaries, with the islands in the sea lying opposite to the eastern coast of the said lands, within twenty leagues of the same, which are not already inhabited or settled by any authority derived from the Crown of Great Britain: . . . all which lands, countries, territories and premises hereby granted  . . . we do by these presents make, erect and create one independent and separate province by the name of Georgia, by which name we will the same henceforth to be called . . .

And our will and pleasure is that the common council of the said corporation . . .  shall from time to time for the full end and expiration of twenty one years, to commence from the date of these our letters patents, have full power and authority to nominate, make, constitute, commission, ordain, and appoint by such name or names, style or styles as to them shall seem meet and fitting, all and singular such governors, judges, magistrates, ministers, and officers civil and military, both by sea and land, within the said district as shall by them be thought fit and needful to be made or used for the said government of the said colony.

In Witness Whereof we have caused these our letters to be made patents.  Witness ourself at Westminster, the ninth day of June in the fifth year of our reign.