Turnbull and Dutton. “Protecting Australian Sovereignty”

Australia is once again proudly a world leader. At the United Nations immigration summit in New York, Mr Turnbull, (not the greatest P.M yet) was enthusiastic about selling the credentials of Australias immigration policies. Suggesting that we had developed a template that worked on the vexed issue of ‘unstoppable waves of mass migration’ he held up the example of Australia. ‘Our detention policies and turn-back policies are an absolute world beater. O.K, we didn’t do so well in the Olympics, but this is where we come numero Uno!’ The immigration Minister Mr Dutton explained; ‘Why would Australia’s immigration system be racist, when at least one in four Australians were born overseas”. Mr Turnbull, suggested other countries may want to follow our example, and protect sovereignty. ‘This mass flow must be controlled’, he said, ‘and if there aint a border, what’s the point in trying’.

Dutton inspects a Syrian refugee camp. Official from Immigation Department indicates, direction to which refugees should return to. 

Other nation states, particularly European were keen to listen to the ‘Australian solution’ and enthusiastically applauded the PM’s novel idea of augmenting physical barriers.

Platinum Class inmates enjoy a candlelit dinner on Nauru.

‘Extend the Mediterranean Sea, so as to make the gap between ‘them’ and ‘us’ more profound. Look what we’ve done in Australia, we could give you the biological barriers, sharks, killer whales and stinging jelly fish, that would reinforce border security. Look at the U’K, they’ve done it. Shut the country off from the entire world. And things aint too hot for Merkel in Germany right now. At the rate were going, with the impending melt down of the planets eco-system, life, civilisation and everything it’s a bloody good thing that the ice cap melt will just make it that little bit harder for refugees to go anywhere. They’ll finally work it out themselves and just stay put. Or if they’re really keen we can offer then three square meals a day in one of our reception centres on Nauru. In the detention centre’s they’ve never had it so good. It acts as a deterrent. and it’s good for business.

We’ve got to send a clear message to the people smugglers, that we only accept wealthy immigrants. They’ve gotta arrive via business or platinum class. And in doing so protect our standard of living’. Asked by a journalist about the recent catastrophic events in Syria as a push to mass exodus as a consequence of the allied bombing of Syrian rebels, the PM, countered; ‘It’s all part of a big plan. By bombing everyone, we set up a level playing field. Whether they’re Isis, Assad’s thugs or rebels, we’ll treat them just the same and ensure that freedom, when it comes, is left to the last man, woman or child standing. And that’s the endgame in Syria. To ensure that the noble spirit of Anzac lives on as an eternal principal of Freedom. To demonstrate that Australia is prepared to do the heavy lifting and punch above our weight.

Mr Turnbull then congratulated Mr Dutton on their principle stand, and was heard off microphone; ‘And besides what difference does it make, the world’s fucked anyway’.

Acting PM reflects on Australia’s greatest ‘EVER’ P.M

Dear reader, just in case you missed it, we sat down after dinner last night and watched Australia’s, second longest (‘greatest’) serving Prime Minister (EVER) sit down and tell us about his love for the longest serving, arguably greatest Prime Minister ‘EVER’ for an hour. It was reverential and I couldn’t help but shed a tear, as we wandered back to that safer age of Commies, World War and Ben Chifley’s cigars. And…… this is the best part, there’s another hour of the second best Prime Minister EVER, reminiscing about the Greatest Prime Minister ‘EVER’, next Sunday.

For Sunday is the day of worship.

John and Rupert, Saving the world from democracy.

And for the first time if you’ve ever wondered, John W Howard, (Second Greatest P.M EVER) almost cried when he described the responsibility attendant upon weighing in on the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. He likened it to the responsibility RG Menzies, (Greatest Prime Minster ‘EVER’) would have felt when he described his ‘melancholic duty to fight for Empire’ as a consequence of the invasion of Poland.

Arguably. ‘Second and Third BEST’ P.M’s, glory in Ming’s shadow.

For the history enthusiast, the gravitas was palpable. Of course Ming, must have felt just like John. There was Germany, mighty, unstoppable and evil, crushing the defence-less new democracy in Eastern Europe. And here was us. Poised as a democracy to destroy the evil dictatorship of Sadaam Hussein, and what was left of Afghanistan, after the Russians and (prior to that) the Empire had smashed it to bits. And (this is the bit I’ll look forward to hearing next week) John might tell us how we justified our latest war. I can understand that things got pretty serious when Ming realised that we were gonna be on our own when Japan did a bit of territorial expansion, and it was a quick thing that the Yanks saved us from oblivion. But what John failed to mention, (and i’m sure this’ll come in next weeks installment), is how we (the glorious Allies) all got together and reconstructed Germany. I’m sure he’ll describe the Marshall Plan, and I’m pretty sure he George and Tony, had one for Iraq. That was the funny part. Five years after we’d crushed the might of Nazi-dom and the evil of fascism, we’d chipped in and the German economy was going gang-busters. Whilst, and this is the irony, whilst we were still on rationing, petrol coupons and postwar austerity.

Thats the bit that I’m looking forward to seeing. Even more-so than those glorious moments when John described the Queen anointing Australia in 1954. I love the Queen. I love being part of the Commonwealth, ( Empire). But I’m so looking forward to John describing the visionary plan he shared with Tony, George and himself to rescue the Iraqi’s and Afghani’s, from servitude, and how we, (the gallant allies) respected the culture and people we rescued.

The Sherriff and his deputy. Saving Iraq, Afghanistan and ” Canadia” from oppression.

I’m also looking forward to how John describes the Intervention. Another instance of how he rescued the wretched, dispossessed, wasteland of aboriginal Australia. John, like Ming was a big leader, and though we got an inkling from Rupert, Gerard, Malcolm and Alexander, just how great a man he was as second longest serving P.M, he acknowledged almost tearily that nothing comes close to Ming. And that is why Australia is the progressive, liberal, tolerant country we are now. Ming’s legacy.

As Barry Humphries so nobly put it, “ I still consider Bob Menzies the leader”. And he’s quite right. It’s reassuring to know that after all these years, nothing’s changed.

(republished from 1 December 2013)

I Tell You True
By Ali Cobby Eckermann

I can’t stop drinking, I tell you true
Since I watched my daughter perish
She burned to death inside a car
I lost what I most cherish
I saw the angels hold her
As I screamed with useless hope
I can’t stop drinking.  I tell you true
It’s the only way I cope

I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
Since I found my sister dead
She hung herself to stop the rapes
I found her in the shed
The rapist bastard still lives here
Unpunished in this town
I can’t stop drinking, I tell you true
Since I cut her down.

I can’t stop drinking, I tell you true
Since my mother passed away
They found her battered down the the creek
I miss her more each day
My family blamed me for her death
Their words have made me wild
I can’t stop drinking, I tell you true
‘Cos I was just a child

So if you see someone like me
Who’s drunk and loud and cursing
Don’t judge too hard, you never know
What sorrows we are nursing.

from “Little Bit Long Time’ 2009
This poem won First Prize at the inaugural ATSI Survival Competition 2006.

Today’s dispatch is Intelligent Parasitism.  Originally dispatched on 7 May 2015

Ní féidir teacht ar Gaelacha na hAlban ar Google Translate mar sin tá a shocrú don Ghaeilge. Beannachtaí chun tú go léir,

In March 2012, a Musical Dispatch titled Metaphors and Euphemisms was launched into Cyberspace. Yet another modest contribution to the accumulation of meta-data.

In the Dispatch, the Scottish Clearances where alluded to as an earlier example of Closing the Gap.

“The 19^th.Century Scottish Clearances were driven mainly by greed and xenophobia. When it became far more “economically viable” to run sheep in the Highlands than have “non-viable” communities of Scots minding their own business and not playing the game, refusing to become English, these populations were disempowered, stigmatized and their social (tartan) fabrics torn apart.

Back then there were no bulldozers. The homes were torched.

From Wikipedia: “…the widespread evictions resulting from the Clearances severely affected the viability of the Highland population and culture. To this day, the population in the Scottish Highlands is sparse and the culture is diluted…… Although the 1901 census did return 230,806 Gaelic speakers in Scotland, today this number has fallen to below 60,000….”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK9uyioAPZU The landlords carried out “Improvements” to their estates. The improvers said the eradication of the Gaelic way of life, with its antiquated Clan loyalties and low rates of return, was necessary to bring the Highlands into the modern era- I guess they were Closing the Gap.”

If all this sounds familiar In the light of the latest push to close remote communities in Western Australia, it does because it is. As the French say c’est la même.

The Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland are some of the last remaining bastions where Gaelic is spoken.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxVlmUn3K8g

They are also where in February 1941 the ironically named SS Politician ran aground with a load that included 28,000 cases of whisky. The locals invoked the Law of the Sea and proceeded to salvage the cargo. Local Customs officer Charles McColl had at least one thing in common with modern day Australian assimilationist officials, he lacked a sense of humour. McColl succeeded in having locals pursued and prosecuted. None of the whisky had paid a penny of duty, and he railed against this loss to the public purse, not unlike modern day Australians that rail against tax payers money being ‘wasted’ on Aborigines. Never mind that very little of the obscene amounts being spent actually trickle down to said Aborigines, and never mind that Australia is about to embark on spending $40billion on half a dozen submarines, not even likely to be built by Australians. But I digress.

Charles McColl’s campaign culminated with the hull of SS Politician being dynamited much to the disbelief of the locals. They were perplexed and flummoxed and not a little pissed off. As Angus John Campbell, was quoted, “Dynamiting whisky. You wouldn’t think there’d be men in the world so crazy as that!” Well sadly such crazy men continue to exist and flourish. We continue to be perplexed and flummoxed and not a little pissed off by them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TehFZ38kt6o

Opposition to the bulldozing of the remote Kimberley community of Oombulgurri prompted West Australian Aboriginal Affairs Minister Peter Collier to say that demolition was necessary to reduce further vandalism and theft… I wonder what Angus John Campbell and the residents of Barra island would have made of that?

A plebiscite was recently held in Scotland in which the question was posed ‘Should Scotland be an independent country?’ the Highlands returned a 47% yes vote, and 53% No.

As a non resident non Scottish person I fully accept that it isn’t for the likes of me to decide the future of Scotland, I none the less feel I’m allowed an opinion and was greatly disappointed but not surprised by the result of the referendum. When the Banking sector threatened to pull out of an independent Scotland, I thought it would have the same effect as Charles de Gaulle had in Quebec in 1967. “Piss off and mind your own business” (Emmerder et l’esprit de votre propre entreprise– according to Google translate). It wasn’t to be. Our illustrious Prime Minister is also allowed to have an opinion, and he has many: ‘‘I think that the people who would like to see the break-up of the United Kingdom are not the friends of justice, the friends of freedom, and the countries that would cheer at the prospect…are not the countries whose company one would like to keep.’’ is part of what he said in England. The colloquial Australian expression summing up such utterances is ‘sucking up’.

In August 2009 James Anaya, the former UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, criticized the NT Intervention which he declared “further stigmatizes already stigmatized communities”. Our former  illustrious Opposition indigenous affairs spokesman (Tony Abbott) told ABC Television at the time that “I think this is the kind of nonsense we are used to from these armchair critics,”

Why does this make me think of the Goose and the Gander? (must be my warped mind- you wouldn’t think a single dose of LSD half a century ago would have such long lasting effects).

Britain is about to have an election, and a delicious irony is that the Scottish National Party is likely to hold the balance of power. I vaguely remember hearing the phrase ‘intelligent parasitism’ which came to mind in relation to the current situation in the United Kingdom. Holding the balance of power in a Great Britain, is likely to be of greater advantage to the Scottish population than being an independent not so Great Scotland.

So I looked up Intelligent Parasitism. Anthropologist A.P. Elkin used it to describe a stage in Australian Indigenous adjustment to the overwhelming forces of Colonialism.

In 1996, R. McGregor wrote ‘Intelligent Parasitism- A.P.Elkin and the Rhetoric of Assimilation’. I hope to get the time to read it. I wonder if R. McGregor’s ancestors were subjected to the clearances, they probably were.

In January 2012 a Musical Dispatch titled ‘The Business Intelligence front Door’ was launched into cyberspace. It referred to Don Watson’s book ‘Bendable Learnings’.

“Centrelink is quoted five times in ‘Bendable Learnings’ including:

The Centrelink contact point for statistics, previously known as the Knowledge Desk is now known as the Business Intelligence Front Door.” and from a Centrelink brochure on multi-cultural services: “If you cannot read, this brochure tells you where to get lessons. (¿Que?) Are we dealing with a talking brochure?

More importantly the Musical Dispatch quoted Mahatma Ghandi:

Mahatma Ghandi was charged with “bringing or attempting to excite disaffection towards His Majesty’s Government” (Yakara! Heaven Forbid!)

He was invited to make a statement to the court on 23^rd March 1922 at Ahmedabad, India, and subsequently sentenced to six years imprisonment under Section 124A of the Indian Penal Code.

This is part of what he said:

“The greater misfortune is that the Englishmen and their Indian Associates in the administration of the country do not know that they are engaged in the crime I have attempted to describe. I am satisfied that many Englishmen and Indian officials honestly believe that they are administering one of the best systems devised in the world, and that India is making steady , though slow, progress. They do not know, that a subtle but effective system of terrorism, together with an organized display of force on the one hand, and the deprivation of all powers of retaliation or self-defence on the other, has emasculated the people and induced in them the habit of simulation. This awful habit has added to the ignorance and self deception of the administrators.” (my emphasis)

Further along in his speech Mahatma Ghandi said: “In my humble opinion, Non-co-operation with evil is as much a duty as is Co-operation with good”    

Na toghcháin sa Bhreatain ar siúl, mar sin seol mé níos fearr as seo i gcás fuair mé mícheart é!
Gach an chuid is fearr mo chairde, go dtí an chéad uair eile
Frank

Somewhere over the rainbow…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1bFr2SWP1I

Kevin Andrews, visionary blancmange policy debate.

Dear reader, once again, due praise must be given to the visionary Kevin Andrews, who together with messers, Bernardii, Christsensen, Abetz, and Roberts is ensuring that Australia plays a straight bat in the frothcoming blancmange plebiscite

Leading the policy Debate. One Nation leader, (Gauleiter for Queensland) Pauline Hanson. M.P

Today we bring you a fragment from Sir Atney, who gives much colour to the Shovel article with  an acute personal observation. It is hoped that the blancmange plebiscite deals once and for all with the pesky issue of gays, cooking shows and anything remotely rainbow- coloured, and incidentally whilst we’re at it, people of colour. Good to see One nation leading the policy debate and doubtless an inspiration for the PM of ‘thought bubbles’, who had an idea………. once.

and now from the shovel.

Women, Black People To Be Barred From Plebiscite,  In Order To Preserve ‘Traditional’ Definition Of Voting By The Shovel on September 13, 2016

British Troops encourage voters in the Easter Blancmange plebiscite. Dublin. 1916.

AEC Officers encourage aboriginal participation in the 1934 Conniston blancmange plebiscite.

Only white men over the age of 21 will be eligible to vote in the upcoming same-sex marriage plebiscite, in keeping with the traditional definition of voting. Liberal MP Kevin Andrews told the media that it was a common sense approach to February’s poll, as “that’s the traditional way voting has occurred going back generations”. Some critics however argue that allowing all white adult men to vote is a step too far. They believe New South Wales’s original voting eligibility definition of “men over 21 years of age with £100 free–hold, £10 annual value householders, 3 year lease of £10 annual value, or depasturing licence,” is more appropriate. “Let’s not meddle with a system that has clearly worked well for years,” one critic said. Mr Andrews responded to those critics, arguing passionately that all men, regardless of the value of their free-hold, should be able to participate in a democratic society.

Sir Atney Emo comments: ‘Certainly a very fair and practical proposition  – as far as it goes.  But I can look back to an even more successful approach to enfranchisement. In my teens in Northern Ireland the electoral system was marked by well-targeted gerrymandering.  Thus the city of Derry (second-largest city in the Ulster statelet) was 70% Catholic-Nationalist, however the Catholic wards were very large and few, while the Protestant wards were small and many. But each ward had one elected representative, so the city hall elections always returned a 65-75% Protestant-Unionist majority! On top of that was the quaint and entirely reasonable arrangement whereby each voter received an additional vote for every company directorship held (again, greatly favouring the Protestant-Conservative vote).   Thus, my then father-in-law, a very wealthy business man with diverse interests, approached the ballot box armed with TWELVE votes!

African Americans hard at it. Vote counting after the Gettysburg Blancmange plebiscite.

And from Cecil, who’s on hand by Lagerphone from the US of A;

Apt response Sir Atney I’ll pass it on to the traditionalists from the GOP here in North Carolina, doubtless, will pass it on Federally.  Of course it was the southern democrats who initiated the Jim Crow era of black disenfranchisement 20 to 30 years after the civil war which the Republicans won and gave the vote to African American (Men).  There were a number of black parliamentarians in southern states between 1870 – 1890, and virtually none between 1900 and 1990.   Gerry Mander has not been seen in the US at all, except to note that electoral boundaries seem to change as State Governments change.  That is only the will of the people.

Part of the acting P.M’s art collection.

Dear reader it is with considerable excitement we report to you breathlessly the latest trends from Canberra. And we’re very happy to say, that there’s real leadership coming from the acting PM Mr John Howard.

Acting P.M in national costume.

The week before last he reminded us what a disaster it would be to have a treaty with Aboriginal Australia. He was quite correct. It would be a disaster, and quite emphatically break the sacred bond of trust we all share to look after these wretched accursed peoples for their own good. Proving his point Mr Howard pointed to his favourite depiction of Aboriginal Australia, (the jacaranda student wall map of 1953) and said, “ see here, they’re happy folk wandering around the desert, free to walkabout and gather things in areas not yet restricted by atomic testing. This was their lot before they were given the vote. I’m proud to say this wall map guided me in my ambition to become Prime Minister’.

Pausing briefly he turned to the camera, and said: and now I’ve been asked to return as nations elder statesman, sage, overlord, peacemaker, I must remind you that freedom is a gift. And on that we should think very clearly about giving it away. For example the vexed issue of political donations, why should we want to give that one up? It’s stood us in good stead. And I’m surprised that the other acting PM Mr Malcolm Turnbull would want to eschew such providence that comes brimming full from dear friends and benefactors, in newly minted dollars, Yuan, and other negotiable funds transfer liquidity options. This is the lifeblood of our democracy, and without it, the people would have an equal say in the scheme of things, that might even give the aborigines a voice, and that would rock the very foundation of the society we prosper in’.

Republic referenda. Establishing the template for the marriage plebiscite.

Mr Howard, qualified his position, as acting P.M. ‘I’ve got to make the tough decisions. I need to be tough on immigration and asylum seekers, and i’ll be tough on anyone who doesn’t respect the glorious, noble, self sacrificing eternal hero-dom of our sons and daughters of Anzac who are renowned the world over for giving the light of civilization to accursed peoples of Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, etc. Just as I was tough on One Nation and all the policies we’ve stolen from them.

I’ll also let you know I have some very strong views on same sex marriage. As I see it there’s no such thing nor ever there will be , and I’m greatly pleased that the plebiscite model will prove as effective as my republican referenda model in ensuring that nothing ever changes. And the Australian, economy, envy of the world over is on an excellent footing. Housing prices are going though the roof and only the preferred generation of elder australians are graced with the knowledge that all subsequent generations will live in abject poverty as a perpetual serfdom to us the uber baby boomers.

Australia 2016. Ming Rules. O.K!

As acting PM I’m exceedingly proud to narrate the true story of Ming, a man who began the experiment of education, health care, and opportunity, so that we could close it all down. And my objective complete to prove that once and for all the great experiment of the big society has made us all just that bit diminished, and small. Like myself’.

Cecil, (centre) learning skills whilst out in the field.

Another fascinating fragment from Cecil, who is doubtlessly hard at it, developing the material for his return which will enlighten us. Though, there is a distinct note of contrition here, we know that Cecil is at the coal face so to speak, preparing copy that will amuse, enlighten and perhaps frighten those who care to read of his exploits in the New World.

And now from Cecil:

Billy Snedden demonstrating leadership. Always an inspiration to Cecil, ( extreme RHS) as centre half back of the Merino-Dunt Mopokes.

Since ancient times the lot of the Managing Editor at Passive Complicity by Cockburn and Poole has not been an easy one.   Managing Editor, Quentin Cockburn, told me so himself.   Total responsibility for ensuring suitable and tasteful daily entertainment for both our readers.  And then he has contributors (staff) to deal with.  They make commitments to deliver copy yet invariably fail.

Cecil talks to U.S authorities about border protection.

Cecil Poole, to take a random example, committed five weeks ago, no, six weeks ago, to providing at least one piece per week.  This, Cecil assured Quentin, should be easy, a doozy, a cinch, as Cecil would be in the US, the source of all good stories, of guns, of rednecks, of bleeding heart liberals, of Natural Disaster, of Un-Natural disaster, of extraordinary charity, of Zombie Politicians, of SAME SEX MARRIAGE.  “No probs”, were Cecil’s parting words.

Each morning the PCbyCp editorial staff would open our Foreign Utilities Correspondents Kache, (spelt with a K, cos it’s an American spelling) in eager anticipation of a literary gem from our colleague in the US.  As the end of the first week neared the anticipation heightened, assuming Cecil was polishing the piece before submitting it.   Well, thought , Cecil had only been gone a week and we knew that he had friends and family to catch up with, important research to undertake, background checks to make and take.  Thirsty Moms to entertain.   Maybe Cecil didn’t count the first week.  Still he is a reliable fellow, Quentin allowed, he will come through in the second week.   Yet each morning brought little but disappointment.  Cecil’s silence was total.   With a sense of duty combined with a sense of resignation Quentin has put his shoulder to the wheel and ensured that pcbycp developed increasingly dull copy.   A litany of complaint, unleavened by that spirit of free enterprise  and optimism that could only be brought from the U.S.

 With each passing day, with yet another 24 hours without copy from Cecil, Quentin’s blood pressure rose.  Did Quentin question Cecil’s commitment to the cause?  Was Cecil just being passive?  Was Quentin complicit in Cecil’s passivity? “Bloody hell, all I asked was 500 words, not really that difficult.”

Total commitment.

But he consoled himself. He knew Cecil was hard at it! On the job, with more committment than  Billy Sneddden. Knew he was doing in depth research into the American Psyche? Spending too much time at the workbench or his work station?   Quentin knew well of Cecil’s fragile mind set, of his lack, not just of self belief, of self confidence, but also of his lack of moral fibre, of courage.  In effect Cecil could be thought of as adrift, lost amongst all the vices on offer in the new World.

Yet for Quentin to call this out carried with it grave risks, specifically that Cecil would take offense, would sulk, would perhaps even get cross. Yet finally Cecil has reappeared.  His email arrived this morning.  Multiple excuses, all sound – coughing fit, allergy, tiredness, too much sex, not enough sex, too busy, too drunk, too complex, too simple, pneumonia.  Just give me another week he asked. Quentin, (the man who would never use one word where 13 polysyllabic obscure ones  will fit) replied with just three simple words:   An utter delight.

And why you may ask. Because on the vexed issue of same sex marriage, a treaty with the first Australians, tax reform, superannuation kickbacks for the ultra wealthy, education, health, the environment, innovation , the neo-con delusion and everything ; Nothing has changed. Malcolm has drawn a perfect circle, or “nought’ as we used to say.

Malcolm determined that nothing will change whilst Cecil is away.

And that’s comforting, for big business, and the Property Council. Cecil must recharge his batteries fully, and then upon return enlighten us on what makes the U.S of A, the shining light we wish to emulate. But we wont have to wait for long, because our prediction at PCbyCP is that Donald will be the new President. Why is this so? Sam told me, the (other) editor of the People’s Daily.

Sam Dusty-Yardy. No such thing as a free lunch. Or number#14 as we say in Mandarin at the People’s Daily

 The upper house is stymied. It’s official Sam Dastyari has been Editor in Chief of the People’s Daily for years, and Malcolm, (‘Malcolm who’? you might say) has innovated and ideas boomed us into the marriage plebiscite. In a nutshell the DLP still run the conservatives. Chinese cash is everywhere, (and from both sides of politics very good indeed). The Property Council say things have never looked better for investment properties, high end market and the rate of return in Ponzi-opolis is expected to fly off the scale. Ponzi- opolis is the first of the Property Council’s-People’s Daily partnership transit cities (the first of the interconnected fast rail cities) to be built a trillion miles from anywhere.

Sam in happier days

Australia in the twenty first century is looking very progressive. It has been predicted that by 2025, all the 2014 budget emergency measures will be passed. The former P.M John Howard, (second longest serving PM ever, noble elder statesman, figure head, disciple of Thatcherism and peace-lover who instigated both the invasion of his own country, (the intervention) and the whole-scale meltdown, mass slaughter and polarising with his mates Tony and George in Iraq to give is the next 100 years war) decried ‘the disaster of an aboriginal treaty’ last week.

This week he proclaimed that women should steer clear of Canberra as their primary function is to have babies, care and leave out the slippers and cigar for when hubby gets home. And quite right too, the kiddies do need caring as they’ll be staying at home with mumsie and dadda for years and years, as property is no longer affordable, and from current Property Council projections investment properties have overtaken the good ol mums and dads buyers to keep ordinary folk out. Another victory for fee enterprise.

Sopwith Pup outperforms the F35. Better looking pilot also.

Sadly though there are still some states holding out. Not all schools, public departments , libraries and hospitals have been privatised yet, and there’s still way too much fat in the budget, for complacency. There’s national parks to be mined, seascapes to be drilled, and there’s an awful lot of potential in continuing the glorious conquest of civilizing the Middle East. Good news is the F35, can’t shoot straight. It’s so high tech, even the aaa batteries can only be bought singly (a shock to former Dick Smith purchasing officers) and even when it is airborne, can be outmaneuvered by a Sopwith Pup, out-climbed by a Guy Fawkes rocket, and out gunned by a Brewster Buffalo. And at sixteen billion trillion apiece, we’re still believing it good value for money, and the Pentagon is on the money on this one.

Parliament. Moribund? Or just empty.

Because we’re gonna have a war. Just what we need. A boon for the economy, a double triple whammy to the Property Council and jobs jobs jobs for Australians, building the sort of over-blown useless stuff, the military love to play with. The lights are going out all over Canberra and we may not see them re- lit in our time. Well, the truth of the matter is, ‘who cares’?

 Dear reader it has been some time since we received our last message from the U.S, and we were beginning to wonder if Cecil had done a bunk. But no sooner had we said the words ‘J.D Salinger’, than this most recent missive arrived. We were thrilled in the editorial staff office and devoted the rest of the day entertaining ourselves with Cecil-type scenario’s. We knew that whatever the occasion, and wherever fate found him, Cecil would be hard at it, and tellingly, as always, would offer us insights both brief and succinct in word usage. And so it is with some fanfare we share this latest text with you, and our eager sub editor Mr Dodsworth Uppington-Smythe, has included a translation and summary based upon the coded information.

And now from Cecil

‘Howdy, the USA is a troubling place.  Filled with wonderful people. I’m wondering how you are?  I’ve not heard from Ira either.  Not that I’m worried (sick).  It is difficult here not to drink and eat too much.  I went to a book launch today and the title of the book was Bacon (as in the pig product).  It talked of bacon jam and bacon cookies, and much more besides. As I’ve said previously I’ll try to write some more’.

There you have it! He’s clearly on the job and tackling some of the emergent issues that make this current election so captivating. According to Smythe the bacon reference can only point to a republican think tank, and ‘wonderful people’ an oblique reference to the enhanced examples of the plastic surgeons craft, perfect teeth, and Joe Hockey. We’re quite sure that Cecil has already dined with Joe, and congratulated him for his visionary work on the 2014 budget, and closing down the rest of manufacturing in Australia. And possibly some discussion on how to further reduce the breadth of renewables, and education, and healthcare, which make the U.S such a paragon of free enterprise and liberty.

‘Cecil has already dined with Joe, and congratulated him for his visionary work on the 2014 budget, and closing down the rest of manufacturing in Australia’.

We don’t know what they had for lunch but can rest assured it probably would have been a good Clare Valley red, Tasmanian oysters, Victorian beef and some Hunter region dessert wines. Either way it’s tough work and only a few would have the stamina, to do the hard yards as Cecil has so resolutely affirmed. There’s an absence of easy access to Yuan, in the U.S so tellingly the election cycle is one long struggle.

But Cecil will persevere because he knows as the Federal Reserve does, that yuan into yuan don’t necessarily make two. And as the stock market jolts and we’re running out of wriggle room with quantative easing, that dear reader, is the point of it all. 

A commentary on the poem will follow.

Dublin

by Louis MacNeice

Grey brick upon brick,
Declamatory bronze
On sombre pedestals –
O’Connell, Grattan, Moore –
And the brewery tugs and the swans
On the balustraded stream
And the bare bones of a fanlight
Over a hungry door
And the air soft on the cheek
And porter running from the taps
With a head of yellow cream
And Nelson on his pillar
Watching his world collapse.

This never was my town,
I was not born or bred
Nor schooled here and she will not
Have me alive or dead
But yet she holds my mind
With her seedy elegance,
With her gentle veils of rain
And all her ghosts that walk
And all that hide behind
Her Georgian facades –
The catcalls and the pain,
The glamour of her squalor,
The bravado of her talk.

The lights jig in the river
With a concertina movement
And the sun comes up in the morning
Like barley-sugar on the water
And the mist on the Wicklow hills
Is close, as close
As the peasantry were to the landlord,
As the Irish to the Anglo-Irish,
As the killer is close one moment
To the man he kills,
Or as the moment itself
Is close to the next moment.

She is not an Irish town
And she is not English,
Historic with guns and vermin
And the cold renown
Of a fragment of Church latin,
Of an oratorical phrase.
But oh the days are soft,
Soft enough to forget
The lesson better learnt,
The bullet on the wet
Streets, the crooked deal,
The steel behind the laugh,
The Four Courts burnt.

Fort of the Dane,
Garrison of the Saxon,
Augustan capital
Of a Gaelic nation,
Appropriating all
The alien brought,
You give me time for thought
And by a juggler’s trick
You poise the toppling hour –
O greyness run to flower,
Grey stone, grey water,
And brick upon grey brick.

Our Poetry Editor, Ira Maine Esq, writes:
It is probably because I am a Dubliner myself that I cannot resist this poem, this splendid evocation of the city where I was born and went to school. Down the middle runs the splendid River Liffey (Anna Livia Plurabelle) and across which I was required to travel, every day on my way to school. Up the steeply cobbled  St. Steven’s Lane, past the hospital on one side and the Arthur Guiness brewery on the other, with vast draught horses dragging drays of barelled porter up the endless slope.

My Aunt Lil had a shop in Winetavern Street, under the lee of St. Patricks Cathedral where Dean Swift once held sway. At the top of the street was ‘The Liberties’, a place of refuge for Huguenots and the like, and Fishamble Street, retaining still the much older Viking word used to describe a market. Henry Grattan, mentioned in the first verse, was born in Fishamble Street in the 18^th century and grew up to champion the cause of legislative freedom in the Dublin Parliament. Prior to Grattan, Irish parliamentarians couldn’t urinate without permission from Westminster.To commemorate him there is now near the university a full sized bronze statue of the man with arm outstretched, palm up, persuasive to the end. Amusingly in Dublin, if a problem is insurmountable and yet some person is rash enough to ask when the problem may be resolved, the laconic reply is invariably; ‘…when Grattan shuts his fist…’

Daniel OConnell, Member of Parliament, mentioned in the same MacNeice breath and living at about the same time as Grattan, became a huge influence in the struggle for Catholic Emancipation in 19^th century Ireland. What must be understood here is that, prior to the OConnell/Grattan intervention, only Anglicans could stand for the Irish Parliament. Catholics and Presbyterians were banned.The influence of Grattan and O’Connell on 19^th century Irish political life, considering the political climate of the day, was profound. What must be considered too of course is that, in the wake of the French Revolution, governments all over Europe were much more inclined to ease repressive legislation in the hope of avoiding bloody revolution at home. Reformers naturally, took full advantage of this.

Then there was Thomas Moore,(1779-1852) the Irish singer and song writer, who wrote all those very respectable melodies which were so suited to genteel accompaniement on the pianoforte that drawing rooms all over the British Isles resounded with them. They are of course, much less well known now but ‘The Minstrel Boy”, ‘Believe Me if all those Endearing Young Charms…’ and ‘The Last Rose of Summer…’ might strike a bell with one or two amongst us. Moore was, in his day, as well known and as popular as todays rock stars.

The first verse of  MacNeice’s poem easily evokes the atmosphere of Depression era Dublin, where once glorious Georgian buildings, now blackened by centuries of smoke, serve merely to accentuate the city’s drabness. Everything is grey, the buildings, the sky, the river itself. Outside the city, all along the coast, the well heeled bask, the inner city abandoned to the halt, the weak and the lame, the great Georgian buildings rented out, room by room to the poor who are packed like coffined sardines to maximise profit.

This terrible poverty is brought home to us by the poet with the minimum of hyperbole and with stunning effect;

‘…the bare bones of a fanlight, over a hungry door…’

MacNeice is watching and listening, his mind, easily distracted, switching, changing channels from the ‘hungry door…’ to the ‘…porter [Guinness] running from the taps…’ And then switching again to Nelson’s Pillar, in the middle of OConnell St. ‘…watching his world collapse…’ Admiral Horatio Nelson, made irrelevant by history, above it all, watching the British Empire fall apart at his feet.

MacNeice freely admits this is not his town. He, though born in Ireland, has distanced himself deliberately from it, educated in England, abandoned his accent in favour of that of the BBC and has lived most of his life in England. He admits he has made choices that disbar him now from an Irish, or at least a ‘Dublin’ way of life. He feels divorced from her, disconnected,’…yet she holds my mind…’ and why?

Because of her ‘seedy elegance…’ her ‘ghosts…’ ‘…her bravado…’ ‘…the glamour…the squalor…’ and because too, and inevitably he as a writer is drawn to her as the home of other writers like Synge and Beckett, Joyce and Swift, Sheridan, OCasey, Goldsmith and Yeats and too many others to mention.

Then the poet looks up and sees ‘…the mist on the Wicklow hills..,’ and compares his own situation to that of the mist. How close is he to Ireland, he wonders? Is it like the relationship between the hills and the mist? Or perhaps the distance between peasant and landlord? Or the Irish to the Anglo-Irish? Can one exist without the other?  The murderer is no murderer without his victim…. A moment can only exist if there are other moments…

I think that here the poet is quietly allowing himself to be Irish, perhaps asking Dublin to allow him in, moving from the distant mist to something closer, from the fine distinction between Irish and Anglo-Irish, which, in the end, is no distinction at all. By living outside Ireland he has become someone else, been  influenced by other people, other events. He is, to all intents and purposes, English, but he is Irish too.

The last two verses are congratulatory. Dublin is what she is, despite her past. She has gathered in ‘…all the alien brought….’. The influence of Dane and Saxon, the Roman legions with their alien, crucified language, the Sassanachs with their guns and drums, the gangsters, the betrayals, the uncivil wars which might, at any stage, have destroyed her.

Observing himself and his reaction to the city,the poet is surprised to discover that the city, for him, has ‘…poise[d] the toppling hour…’ enough to ‘…give me time for thought…’

Dublin has, miraculously and almost without his noticing, stopped time and allowed the poet space to collect his thoughts about Dublin, digest them, and set them down on paper.