Mencken makes sense. Three of the best.

Dear reader, Sir Tony Emo is credited with sending us today’s piece. He referred to the American critic, author, satirist etc, H.L Mencken who had some pretty salient things to say about the democratic process. Indeed, he gets the, ‘Mental Monday’ door prize. Since the Trump apotheosis we’ve been working hard to think who could have nailed this transformaton in contemporary society. Names of illustrious thinkers, H.G. Wells, (‘Shape of Things to Come’), Huxley, (Brave New World) and Bradbury, (Farenheit 451) have come to mind.  But none better than this inidvidual from Baltimore. There’s a sharpness and acuity that speaks of the O. Henry and Sinclair Lewis school of self tutored analytical thought. The substance of which one our esteemed patrons, the late W.C Fields would have doubtlessly approved.mencken-2

Mencken obviously had a sharp wit and nailed the hypocrisies we associate with society. Good on him. And here’s three, that put together all you need to know about politics, religion, and the fear we all share for the great unknown in the early twenty first century. Perhaps we need to initiate a Mencken Institute.  Think tanks, ( the Lowy, the I.P.A, among some) recieve tax breaks these days. It would put us on a level with James Packer, a Scientologist, and other cranks of the lunatic fringe. Not just the hapless “basketfull of deporables’ but the ranks from Family First, One Nation, the Greens, the Liberal and National coalition, and the Labor Party.  We live in hope.mencken-1

Incidentally, we are offering another competition. We feel miffed that the famous Barry Mckenzie-ism, “hatful of arseholes” was not made use of in the Clinton Campaign. This is the problem with contemporary politics, it’s full of wowsers. This competition asks; What other basket-full should Hillary have referred to?

The ‘what If’s’ are palpable. If Hillary had gone for ‘Arseholes rather than ‘contemptibles’, we believe she would have got over the line, Or in horse racing terms, an arse length in front.mencken-3

Such is the stuff of history.

Poetry Sunday 13 November 2016

Today we continue with more poems from Ali Cobby Eckermann’s award winning novel Ruby Moonlight, following on from Harmony published back in April, and two poems published in June.

The massacre has taken place ‘a young woman sits like a rock’

Shadow

this survivor is a libra
of the Shadow tribe

who have lived here
since time began

in their passing
will anyone notice?

Birds

senses chattered by loss
she staggers to follow bird song    trust nature

chirping red-brown finches lead to water
ringneck parrots place berries in her path    trust nature

honeyeaters flit the route to sweet grevillea
owls nest in her eyes    trust nature

crimson wattlebirds turn shades of green
blue wrens turn camouflage-brown    trust nature

pied butcher birds lay trinkets in her path
grey fantails flutter a soft revival    trust nature

apostle birds flicker on the edge of her eyes
emus on the horizon stand like arrows    trust nature

       the woman turns
follows the emus

Ali Cobby Eckermann
Ruby Moonlight
Magdala 2012

 

MDFF 12 November 2016

Today’s dispatch is  Role Clarity. Originally dispatched on 27 July  2015

Hola,

If you’re not aware of my obsession regarding languages, you quite clearly haven’t been paying attention.

A few Dispatches ago I mentioned that a friend had regaled me with some prime examples of “Cop-speak”, inter alia:

…A Policeman in court uttered “ Members rushed into the bedroom and shot the deceased who was alive at the time”…

Another friend often regales me with examples of “Facilitator-speak”:

…You’re invited to this one day event for internal and external organisational and leadership development consultants. If you are interested in role and role clarity in all aspects of life, working systemically and mastering the unspoken language of leadership this experientially designed day with horses could be just what you’ve been looking for…

I can see clearly now…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrHxhQPOO2c

As one gets older there is an increasing incidence of “what if” and “if only” moments.

If only I had had the opportunity to take part in such an experientially designed day with horses, I wouldn’t have muddled during more than half a century without role clarity.

Alas, as my parents used to say: “Als hadden komt, is hebben te laat” (meaning: It is too late, when you use the verb conjugation ‘Had ’)

In amongst my parent’s photo albums there is a photo of a little boy sitting astride a horse in front of a gaucho. That little boy was I. Our home looked out on the edges of“el campo”, since well and truly swallowed up by urban expansion. Not far out, arrieros (drovers) plied their business bringing beef to the abattoirs.

Las penas y las vaquitas se van por la misma senda… las penas son de nosotros las vaquitas son ajenas… (sorrows and cattle follow the same trail, the sorrows are ours, the cattle belong to another) El arriero va:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPbw34Ju_o4

Our milk, bread and ice were delivered by horse and cart (with the horses firmly in front of the carts). Los arrieros, la lechera, and el panadero’s days with horses had not been experientially designed. None the less all had role clarity.

When Wendy was a little girl she use to ride her pony to school. Her days with her pony had not been experientially designed, but all the same, role clarity she did possess.

How different might the circumstances of Remote Aboriginal Australia be, had the perpetrators of the Intervention experienced an experientially designed day with horses?

Had they systemically mastered the unspoken language of leadership? Oh, if only!

Less than half a century ago most people in Yuendumu had role clarity. Stockmen still plied their trade on horseback. Every morning four unlicensed drivers would set off in all cardinal directions with four unregistered tractor & trailers with gangs of uninsured volunteer youth to gather loads of mulga firewood that were distributed around the camps. None were wearing bright yellow luminescent safety jackets. More recently the feral horse population around Yuendumu had exploded. More than one thousand horses were shot from helicopters. Apart from some token consultations, I believe Warlpiri people had no role in the cull. Old people often go without firewood. The most common contemporary role for Warlpiri people is as clients.

A few months ago a Dispatch featured Patrick Davies’ Rocky old Road:

And all they can take has been stolen…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFAdylvx34c

Often we have thought that all they can take has been stolen (stolen languages, stolen children, stolen liberty, stolen land, stolen futures) only to become aware of yet another theft:  Stolen roles!

All the tricks that are tried are not new
They’re just wrapped in gift wrapping paper
And handed as favours to you

So is our soon to be opened $7.6M Police Complex such a Gift Horse? Am I being ungrateful by looking in its mouth?

And no you can’t take all that you’re given
Oft times it means selling your soul

I think it is a Trojan Horse!

Chau,

Frank

PS-An experientially designed day with horses…. Mexican style….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UV49Y9EEHr8

  

Goodonya Donald

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Tony and Eric. Two Great Leaders. Principled!

At last some good news in these troubled times. The PM. (of ‘thought bubbles, Ideas booms and Innovation revolutions) Malcolm Turnbull was on the blower to President elect Donald Trump and had a “very constructive talk”.

trump-2

Aussie battler stands for Principle

We can only guess the two leaders talked about all the very special things that bind the two mighty democracies. There’s free trade deals and helping out our mates in the U.S on all the little wars we’ve been having since 1945. The P.M made it perfectly clear that Australia stands in lock step with the U.S. After the success of recent ventures in Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Vietnam, and Korea, it’s a red letter day for the military and time, (as the P.M suggested) ‘to demonstrate strength in the South China Sea’. And the PM is not alone.

Since Trump’s victory, conservative ranks right across the land have jumped on board the Trumpo-caust and proclaimed their undying love for life beyond the ‘political elites’. George Christiansen, says “It’s time”. And then he quipped, ‘politicians need to listen to ordinary people’. Eric Abetz, proclaimed that; ‘No one is interested in socially progressive policy’. He hasn’t met any in his electorate, and knows what the ordinary person thinks, (we can’t doubt him). And sensing the winds of change our very own Pauline Hanson was on hand to congratulate Mr Trump and offer him the best wishes for the journey ahead. Emboldened, by the scale of the victory, the luminary Corey Bernardii, proclaimed the ‘Conservative Revolution’ has arrived.

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Corey. Principle personified!

We can only agree this is a wonderful time to be a conservative. We at pcbycp can already sense the positive knock on effect. The vexed issue of climate change Is cured. There aint no climate change issue. Solved! The environment is in tip-top shape. No one could doubt it. Malcolm Roberts has all the facts to prove it. The Great Barrier Reef is open for business, and the ‘have-nots’ will get a lot more of the same. The (C.R.S.S) ‘Conservative Revolution School Syllabus’ will be the foundation of a nation building educational project. Evolutionary theory will be banned. English literature quarantined, and Science, melded with Religion and Witch-burning as a fundamental in years eleven and twelve. History will be just re-titled ‘ANZAC and Glory’ in which students form year prep to twelve will learn of the glorious, noble unquestionable annals of ANZAC.

All Aboriginal Australians will be jailed.

20150326: Michelle Landry MP and George Christensen MP pose for a portrait in front of Parliament House, Canberra. Photo by Auspic.

Tony Abbott will assume the title of ‘Area Leader’, (Centralia). “Centralia” is a new sub state encompassing most of the hinterland and allows free access to national parks and aboriginal reserves for the exploitation of the nations mineral assets. A nation building initiative to establish a purpose built jail in each remote community, and the promise of quick promotion for those prepared to work on such harsh environments. Any islands offshore will be hybridized to serve as both nuclear waste and immigration detention centres, and the residue vacancies as a consequence of mass deportations will be filled by Mexicans. Such is the breadth of the imminent, U’S Australia, ‘illegal aliens transfer partnership‘.

In the words of Peter Dutton, ‘a symbol of conservative unity and a message to any foreigner harboring terrorist tendencies that we will not stand for leftist principles of compassion, fairness and opportunity’.We at pcbycp can only agree, for above all, the conservative revolution is guided by Principle.

And that’s leadership. Goodonya Donald.

REAL Leadership and “Peace in our Time”.

This is NOT Donald Trump

The REAL President

Dear reader, this extract was prepared as long ago as yesterday, and as a consequence is OUT OF DATE. But we’d like to congratulate Donald on his victory. He is a Real Estate Agent. This is great news for all Australians. A Trump presidency will be all about “Jobs and Growth”. And great news for the Property Council. So in a spirit of optimism, we pledge our fullsome support for a Trump presidency, and leave you with this deeply considered thought bubble.

proxima-4

A Great Man.

At last some stability, The U.S election will be over (more or less) as we read this over cornflakes, and muesli. It’ll be a comfort to know that one candidate or the other may have won. And the most reassuring thing is that all the issues raised during the election will be put to bed. We know that the Democrat candidate Hillary “preserve the status quo at any cost” Clinton would be a fine President. The Republican Candidate would also be quite good also.

Hillary has been seen with truly poor people during the course of the campaign and occasionally has paused to consider the trenchant issues of poverty, unemployment and the yawning gap between the have’s and the have nots. She really cares about the gap in equity, and as a consequence has made some pretty shrewd investments which will ensure that her business and economic foundation is rock solid. Whatever happens after this election, Hillary will stand for something. A big Pile of cash. And the wonder of synthetic collateral derivates. A wonder for democracy. A wonder for globalism and the certainty that if you’re rich, you’re safe from the evil of wealth distribution. And that is good for business. It offers certainty. And most importantly, offers global stability and the knowledge that somewhere in Africa or the Middle East a dirty little war can continue to employ all that’s good and progressive from the Military Industrial complex. Hail President Clinton Mark 2.

ming-4

Great leadership. If you don’t believe us, go ask any Iraqi.

On the other side, we know that Donald Trump, the bombastic, rude mouthed caricature of business tycoonism will accept either defeat or victory with good grace. We know that the Republicans will accept the will of the people, and direct their funds to ensure that Donald Trump preserves all that’s good about America. As in Australia, the issue of Climate change, healthcare, education and tax reform is solved, and we can expect a brand new era of cooperation and conciliation between the haves and the have nots. Mr Trump, though divisive, and responsible for opening deep wounds in the socio political dialogue, will work hard to ensure that his Presidency represents ” all Americans”.  We also know that Donald, self made and fiercely independent, stands for all the virtues of good governance, and has made significant personal sacrifices to make his run for President.

triggs-5

Our very own George Brandis. Determined to uphold the nobility and respect we share for the rule of law. Real leadership at work.

So it’s all good news. We can expect a composed and unified America. We can dream together a new era in which nobility of spirit and generosity of deed will influence the maelstrom of global politics. And we can expect, after the debacle of the Bush presidency, the vision of the Obama Presidency and the legacy of all the reforms that have been blocked, stifled and killed off that this new era represents one of hope, optimism and enlightenment.

For business the news is good. There are still pockets of working america that haven’t been made redundant, and still more opportunities globally to ensure that the poorer countries do their share of heavy lifting. We are not alone. Australia expects the same from its near neighbour, New Guinea and East Timor. America, envy of the free world must do the same. As a consequence the Chinese and Russian Governments, admirers of liberty and freedom, will do their very best to ensure that this century proclaims an eternal message. Of Hope and Freedom.

To ensure; ‘Peace in our time”

Book Collections

Lord Ackney of Rozelle drew the attention of the editorial board to an interesting AEON Essay Are book collectors real readers, or just cultural snobs? by Frank Furedi.

Tarquin O’Flaherty responded thus

M’Lord, 
It was, indeed an interesting piece and a thousand thanks for making me aware of it.
cat-1

Tarquins father. An inspirational figure.

I was encouraged to join the child’s section of my Dad’s library as a kid. It seemed to be a natural progression from my old written comics to the breathless challenge of reading ‘a whole book!’

And what marvellous books there were!
Biggles and Bunter, Alan Quartermaine and his many adventures, Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, and the incomparable HG Wells. In all of these books there was a barely subliminal message: Decent chaps always did the decent thing..Behaving honourably would always see you through. Simply keep a straight bat. Terribly naive stuff, I know, but still, it is extraordinary how much of it stays with you, which brings me to a point I feel wasn”t touched upon in your Aeon Essay.
cat-2

Stirring Tales of derring do

The Church, regularly, banned books and burned them. When I was growing up, Hitler”s yes men burned millions of books, All over Europe there were Blackshirts and Brownshirts and all sorts of coloured shirts lined up and ready, at the drop of a hat, to burn every tome, novel and illuminated  manuscript they could get their hands on. Even rhe modern Irish Fine Gael party was formed out of the banned Irish Blueshirt movement of the 1930s. This was, to me, in the 1950’s, a terrifying awakening, the realisation, of which I was only half aware at the time, that there were  millions of people in the world only too happy to take up atrocity as a vocation. Millions of people who, at any moment might begin the process of destroying every book in the world.

I began to collect books. I dreamed of bundling them up in greaseproof paper and burying them at marked, secret locations, to be exhumed when the maniacs had gone. Before I had even begun to draw up my maps a book by Ray Bradbury ((Fahrenheit 451) showed me a different approach. Mr Bradbury suggests that if just one person memorizes just one entire book, and we multiply that by millions, then very quickly every book in the world would be committed to somebody”’s memory.

cat-5

Prescient, H.G Wells ‘Things to Come’, and Conan Doyle’s ” Study in Scarlet” …”warn of dangers of Communism and rampant homosexuality in the 21st Cent’. (C. Bernardii 2016.)

Those of us raised under the threat of Hitler, followed quickly by Stalin”s ‘Communism’, the Bomb, and the ‘Cold War’ had reasons to be afraid. Communism in the West was promoted as a dark and evil force, a Fascist force, a book-burning, Orwellian force, and capable, at any moment of completly overwhelming us.The West, stepping into the vacuum left by the Church, and adopting its tactics, led us to believe that the Devil, (the USSR ) was building weapons of such sophistication  that we”d all be wiped out tomorrow unless something was done! Only the West can save us, they cried. (By which they meant the USA, who were filling in for God) As a result of this we had the stupefyingly expensive  and utterly unecessary ‘Arms Race’. When the Wall fell, Soviet armaments were discovered to be Neolithic and the Yanks were discovered to be opportunistic, greed-driven liars.

cat-4

The perils of children’s literature.

I collect books out of fear of both the censer and the censor, and fear that one day there simply won”t be any books. I collect books because, until the inevitable next bout of book banning occurs, I can have absolute access to the quietly arrived at conclusions of some the brightest minds in the world.
Finally, I collect books to remind myself that, despite alI, we have lived in a remarkable time, a time of unprecedented freedom on all levels. It is just possible, viewed from the future, our time will be regarded as a Golden Age.
Tarquin O’Flaherty

1984 and Rupert

I’ve seen the future and I don’t like it.

There’s a scene in 1984, where Winston takes his girlfriend to the room above the antiques shop and deludes himself that in this space, Big Brother will not be watching. Big Brother is everywhere. And the worst of it is Big Brother is no fun. It’s eerily prescient.1984-1

Our very own Big Brother, the reality television behemoth was just the same, except, the threat of death, destruction, and total alienation was replaced by a commercialised banality, a sludge of product endorsement and nihilism amidst the garbage heap of ordinary peoples lives. It was not the mind numbing drudgery, the meanness of a subsistence, of black bread ersatz coffee and fear, that was the dystopia promised by Orwell. From the book itself  there were no pictures, not much laughter and no happy ending.  The book established itself as the template for lives lived in the here and now. North Korea, Zimbabwe, Russia, and here in ol Canberra town.

1984-4

Flatscreen

Except our 1984 is a materially nuanced dystopia. I sat just before midnight in Parliament Station, and noticed three big screens, really big screens . They’re flat screen, just like the ones prophesized in 1984. But in 1984, most of the time, the screens were used to watch the public, and occasionally Winston would watch the news. Of course he was involved in its production and pioneered the term ‘news-speak’.

1984-5

Davros. Not Davos. The editors apologise for this inadvertent mistake. Similarities between the evil inventor of the Dalek and world domination have no bearing to his likeness “Rupert, Lord of darkness, and everyfink”!

Well in the modern dystopia, the people who must endure public transport. As distinct from those that drive, hire taxis, or teleport themselves between board rooms and Davros, (what’s the spelling?) must sit with the public, and the public are diminished these days. They just don’t have the clout.

1984-3

Station Flatscreen

But it’s a special time at that time of night, its quiet. Eerily quiet and the beauty of it, whilst you wait to catch last train you’ve got time to reflect, and say to yourself, ‘I’m at peace, bed awaits me, and the train, a perfect conveyor to that special place of rest’. But it’s not to be. Spaced strategically on the other side of the tube, are three enormous flat screens. From the flat screen, loud enough so that I could hear everything, (I’m deaf) a constant barrage of Sky news, Commercials, Banks, expensive cars, and the surety that If you tune into fox news, (you have no choice) you could listen to Andrew, Peta, and others proclaim their Facts and Truth. Terrifying! Poor bastard Public.

Is this what happens to public transport when the infrastructure is privatised? I loathe dentists, not for the torture one anticipates, but the television. Similarly I hate and detest the medical profession, and eschew any waiting room that insults its clientele with a television. I adore Aldi. Not only do they not have televisions blaring, but there’s an absence of piped music. Aldi may be the most insidious form of global domination since Amway, but I’m all for it. But why the public transport users should be subjected to such mind bending, filth from Murdoch and his minions is beyond me. Or, more prosaically, ‘back to the future’, in a 1984 kinda way. Spare us the future. I want to get off.

News Corporation CEO Rupert Murdoch listens during a forum on The Economics and Politics of Immigration where Murdoch and New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg spoke to a business organization In Boston, Tuesday, Aug. 14, 2012. (AP Photo/Josh Reynolds)

Big Brother

Minister for Indignant Affairs

Saturday’s MDFF referred to Paul Daley’s scathing response to the unreconstructed Tony Abbott’s  job application in relation to the already filled position of Minister of Indigenous Affairs.  Among myriad factors making Abbott totally unsuitable for the job was Abbotts claim that basically nothing of interest or importance happened before 1788.  

Our Dispatcher has some thoughts on the matter:

Paul Daley’s article . . .  has 515 comments, so I decided to not bother adding a comment of my own as it would drown in the sea of comments  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOkBbGn0Mpk  (Neil Murray’s ‘Ocean of Regret’). I then proceeded to write a comment on pcbycp ( a smaller more discerning audience)  only to have it disappear at the stroke of the keyboard.

tony-1

Tony, the Minister for First Australians. Fact 1# No paternalism here.

It included the following from a 2013 Musical Dispatch:

 

To wrap up his Closing the Gap Statement reply, Tony Abbott said that should he become the next Australian PM, he would spend a whole week on an Aboriginal Community each year of his leadership. I have been unable to work out if this was a promise or a threat.

Almost three years ago he visited Alice Springs. This is what I wrote in a Dispatch back then:

tony-2

Fact 2#. No paternalism here.

“As reported by Dan Moss in the Centralian Advocate, Mr. Abbott paid a visitation upon an Alice Springs ‘town camp’ with an entourage of politicians and journalists (17 people in all). I have been told that this visit was unannounced and uninvited. They descended on and filmed an unfortunate amputee sitting in ‘third world conditions’ (I saw it on the ABC TV News). TA gave him a spiel and asked him: “I’m here to help- what can I do?”

The fellow said he’d like some firewood! He didn’t mention a ‘Closing of the Gap’ or a decent house, or a ‘real job’, none of that, just firewood!  Dan Moss wrote: “Did Abbott go fetch firewood? No. He and the stage hands moved on to the next poor bugger to run the same spiel”

tony-3

Fact 3#. No paternalism here.

…….When our 9 year old grand-daughter overheard us talking about this she chimed in “He’ll have to get his own firewood….. by hopping”….

 

I was flummoxed by the suggestion (surely they jest) of elevating Mr. Rabbit to the Ministry, and found Paul Daley’s article to neatly mirror my reaction, and balm to the soul.

 

tony-4

Fact 4# No paternalism here. Perhaps an ‘awkward’ interlude

I can’t say the same for some of the comments.

 

Frank

Poetry Sunday 6 November 2016

Today we reprint our offering of 24 November 2013, with comments by Ira Maine Esq, Poetry Editor.

A Description of the Morning
BY JONATHAN SWIFT

Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, show’d the ruddy morn’s approach.
Now Betty from her master’s bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her own.
The slip-shod ‘prentice from his master’s door
Had par’d the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirl’d her mop with dext’rous airs,
Prepar’d to scrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel-edge, where wheels had worn the place.
The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep;
Till drown’d in shriller notes of “chimney-sweep.”
Duns at his lordship’s gate began to meet;
And brickdust Moll had scream’d through half a street.
The turnkey now his flock returning sees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees.
The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands;
And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.

Our  Poetry Editor, Ira Maine, comments thus:
Jonathon Swift, Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, famous pisser-offer of Lords and Ladies, Kings and Queens to the point where preferment was regularly denied him.  One of the shining lights, the bright jewels of English Literature.  Swift was born in Dublin, went to school with Congreve, was the lifelong friend of John Gay and and Alexander Pope, and who famously proposed , considering how many children were found either abandoned or dead every day in 18th century streets, that they be gathered up and butchered for food.  This satire was an attempt by Swift to bring this disgraceful state of affairs to public attention.

The title of this piece?.  ‘A Modest Proposal’.

If it’s not on your shelves already, seek it out and settle down, a good glass of claret by your side, but remember; this is a slower paced, 18th century English, a prose intended to be relished  by people with enough time to savour it.  Do not expect to read this quickly.  This is  an 18th century jewel.  It will not reward haste. 

Now, to the matter in hand; How was the early morning in 18th century London or Dublin?

First, the rattle on cobbled streets of a ‘Hackney-Coach’ heralds the ‘..Ruddy Morn’s Approach…’

Then, as we’ve all experienced, the half asleep and headlong dash from one bed to another before some Nosey-Parker notices, (or, God help us, a spouse!)

Whilst this flurry proceeds another ‘…slipshod ‘prentice…’ has cleared the accumulated rubbish from ‘…his Master’s Dore…’ and then lazily goes about his tidying duties, sprinkling the floor (with water, sawdust, rushes, or herbs?)

Moll prepares to scrub her entry (I regularly have my entry scrubbed and always feel the benefit afterwards)

The ‘…Kennel Edge..’ is the drain at the side (or edge) of the road.

Kennel comes from the Old French or Middle English  canel  meaning  channel and is where we get our modern  ‘canal’ from.. TV channels in French are described as  “Canal A B or C’ etc.

Kennel on the other hand, as in dog kennel, has more in common with the Latin word ‘canis’  meaning dog, but I digress.

The morning is becoming brighter, the streets noisier

‘…The Smallcoal-Man…’ and the ‘Chimney-sweep, add their cries to the general din.  The Sweep’s cry was’…shriller..’ because only children could get into the narrow chimney spaces. 

 ‘Smallcoal’ is literally small bits of coal, like coarse gravel.

‘…Duns at his Lordship’s Gate began to meet.  This is ominous.  ‘Duns’ are debt collectors. All is not well at the Great House.

‘Brickdust Moll’*. The lady was ‘screaming…’ her wares.  Not sure on this one, perhaps selling brickdust as an abrasive cleaner?  PUBLISHER”S NOTE more of Brickdust Moll has come to light.  All that we have will be revealed this week – look for it.

And now for something absolutely unfamiliar.  Can this possibly be true?

‘…The Turn-key [jailer] now his Flock returning sees…’ who apparently have been let out  ‘…to steal for Fees…’

In Swift’s time, the incarcerated were required to pay for their food and lodgings.  Failure to meet these obligations could mean you might remain indefinitely locked up.  It seems almost incomprehensible to us that prisoners would be released like this and encouraged to steal to pay off their ‘Fees’.  The very idea that they would come back at all seems unimaginable.

‘…the watchful Bayliffs take their silent stand;..’

To all intents and purposes,this refers to cops, either in private or public employment, whose job it is to guard particular premises, or particular persons against thieves and robbers.  A type of security guard rather than a police officer.  There was no national police force then, not in the modern sense of the term..

And the morning has now advanced sufficiently for school children to be abroad, and dragging their feet on the way to class..

Here’s history in a nutshell, a detailed description of London waking up and going about it’s early morning business, in the first years of the 18th century.  Worth a guinea a box!

I hope my  rambling additions did not make the journey too tedious.

MDFF 5 November 2016

Wonderful that Tony Abbott thinks he is qualified to take the role as Minister of Indigenous Affairs.  We all applaud  . . .the audacity of his claim.  Paul Daley of the Guardian fires both barrels with direct hits here

Today’s dispatch is  A Greek Tragedy. Originally dispatched on 12 July  2015

Καλημέρα φίλοι μου,

When, in the early 1970’s, I was first asked to manage the locally owned Yuendumu Mining Company (YMC), I “inherited” the ‘Flatstone Quarry’.

A few kilometres south of Yuendumu there is a ridge that consists of thinly bedded (“flaggy”) sandstone and siltstone. The rocks belong to the Cambrian Yuendumu Sandstone Formation (half a billion years old).

The stone has its origins in a shallow lacustrine environment i.e. a shallow slowly sinking lake bed to which thin layers of sediment were added. Occasional fossil worm tracks and tubes and other features attest to this origin. Mica contained in the sediment washed into the lake and settled as flat lying flakes; because of this the rock easily splits into thin slabs resulting in beautiful paving stones. YMC used air powered rock-drills and dynamite to mine the flatstone. Dynamite sometimes is referred to as “fracture”. Back then Wikipedia didn’t exist otherwise the following might have been found:

“Higher velocity explosives are used for relatively hard rock in order to shatter and break the rock, while low velocity explosives are used in soft rocks to generate more gas pressure and a greater heaving effect. For instance, an early 20th-century blasting manual compared the effects of black powder to that of a wedge, and dynamite to that of a hammer.”

I didn’t need the internet to work out what had happened. Often I’d mentioned that “if only they’d used gunpowder”.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajoI8X8Ys94

Back then charcoal, sulphur and saltpeter (potassium nitrate) would have been readily available; these days subsequent to the various politically motivated fear campaigns, a visit from those police disguised as Ninjas is a likely consequence of harbouring  supplies of the three ingredients.

At the quarry, slabs of sandstone had been recovered from huge piles of debris. The deposit had been ruined and not much useable material remained. I later found out that a gaggle or murder (here I’m only guessing at what the collective noun for public servants might be) of public servants had served themselves (as servants are wont to) to almost all of the production. Delving into the previous half a decade of administrative data, I could not find a single dollar of flatstone revenue.

YMC proceeded to salvage what flatstone we could. Not long before, the Papunya Tula Art Movement had begun, and the “bush telegraph” had done its job. A Warlpiri man did a “dot painting” on one of the flatstone slabs, and quick as a flash around two dozen or so flatstone paintings had been produced by a group of men.

This we perceived as a wonderful opportunity to vertically integrate our quarry. To add value.

I duly filled a suitcase with paintings and like a vacuum cleaner salesman dragged the heavy suitcase around Sydney and Melbourne to various galleries.

The consensus from the commercial art world was that the paintings were very beautiful but that overseas tourists couldn’t take the paintings back in their handbags, blah, blah….

No one pulled out their cheque book. In desperation I’d leave a painted rock at each gallery visited- “sell it for whatever price you can get, take off what you consider a fair commission, send us a cheque in the mail and let us know how many more you think you could sell” (some younger readers may have difficulty conceiving of a time when we had no telephones nor electronic bank transfers). Not a single response.

Years later Warlukurlangu Artists (WA) received a phone call from someone in Darwin. They’d found a painted rock in a shed. Did WA know anything about it, and was it valuable?

When Cecilia rang me to ask did I know anything about this, I told her the story of the heavy suitcase. As for the value, I told her that stolen goods had no value.

Subsequently one of the painted slabs turned up on eBay. I was glad to find out that the South Australian Museum acquired it (at the bargain price of $600).

Recently a friend found another of the long lost paintings stored at the National Museum in Canberra. It was labelled “Aboriginal Ceremonial Object”. I guess my lugging of the heavy suitcase could be regarded as a ceremony of sorts.

Since those heady optimistic days we’ve had a sorry history of disempowerment and marginalization of Aboriginal owned enterprises. The “Closing the Gap” ideologues have been of no practical assistance whatsoever. The boom in Aboriginal Art is a notable exception to this sorry state of affairs.

All the same, that is no excuse for some serious financial mistakes I have made, which my geological training did not prevent me from making. YMC is only marginally surviving.

But there is hope! Somewhere out there, there are people in possession of valuable beautiful dot paintings on slabs of sandstone that they will at any moment decide to pay for.

(Bank details provided on request- Nigerians excepted)

As for the Greek economic crisis? Payment for the Elgin Marbles is also imminent.

Ζούμε με την ελπίδα

Frank

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-MucVWo-Pw