MDFF 18 November 2017

“Gotcha” dispatched Armistice Day 2017.

आशीर्वाद मेरे दोस्तों

The acronym used by Australian Authorities to designate detected boats carrying asylum seekers bound for Australian territory, SIEV, is quite appropriate in that many of these boats do. Leak like a sieve that is.

SIEV stands for ‘suspected illegal entry vessel’ Declaring asylum seekers as ‘illegal’ is open to debate and a matter of opinion if not of political opportunism.

Everything can be made illegal by simply enacting legislation to make it so. Ethnic minorities often bear the brunt of such attacks on their freedom. The descendants of the First Australians know this all too well. They are not given the means nor opportunity to defend themselves.

Forty three years ago some young lawyers came to Yuendumu who had joined the recently formed Central Australian Aboriginal Legal Aid Service (CAALAS).

At the time an election was being held. The policeman’s wife sat on the saddle of her motor bike handing out how to vote cards. A certain part of her anatomy protruded invitingly. This was too much for a very drunk Japanangka, an affable gentle giant of a man, who couldn’t resist the temptation of grabbing her in an inappropriate manner. I’m not saying this was connected in any way, but Japanangka found himself sobering up in a Yuendumu police cell with two broken ribs to keep him company.

The young lawyers were jubilant, here was an opportunity to score a significant win over the constabulary, a veritable “gotcha” moment.

This is also when they struck one of many differences between kardiya and yapa world views, attitudes, values, priorities etc. They were (sorry for the ‘newspeak’) on a steep learning curve. Japanangka wasn’t having any of it: “ I did the wrong thing and I deserved what I got” end of story. Their “gotcha” moment proved to be ephemeral.

Some of these young lawyers went on to forge brilliant legal careers, their baptism of fire at the cross-cultural legal frontier stood them in good stead.

When Jakamarra and I went to Melbourne at the invitation of Concerned Australian, one of these lawyers “ducked in” (at Jakamarra’s request) on one of our planning sessions. In a blend of pride and nostalgia the High Court Judge re-told that when they arrived in the Northern Territory they scored some very satisfying wins over the NT Police. NT Police had got so used to having everything in court their way that they’d become slack and complacent. A new paradigm came to apply: defendants started pleading not guilty, questions were being asked, evidence and procedures were being tested and suddenly cases were being thrown out or defendants found not guilty. Magistrates admonished and criticized members of the constabulary, who became very antagonistic towards CAALAS lawyers.

When I told the Melbourne High Court Judge that these days CAALAS lawyers were so overworked and over-run that in desperation their best advice to their clients was to plead guilty, and that these days magistrates tended to err on the side of police prosecutors, the judge was horrified. All that good hard work back then, down the tube!

…¿ Que te ha pasado justicia? (Justice, what has happened to you?) al policia que era amigo, ahora lo tengo como rival … (and the police who was my friend, now is my opponent)

In a typical situation, a defendant is summonsed to appear in court on a certain day, and ends up sitting on the tiny front lawn of the $7.6Million Yuendumu Police Complex together with the other 50 or more defendants and their families and supporters. During the two day session a couple of CAALAS lawyers have an average of twenty minutes per defendant to receive instructions and advise their client and present their case in court, and that is if they skip lunch. Invariably if a defendant chooses to plead not guilty (possibly because he/she is not guilty) the case is adjourned. A month later the defendant spends from an hour to two days waiting to be called, only to have the case once again adjourned, unless in the mean time the defendant has changed the plea to guilty. When the defendant is due to appear for a third time, he (these are mostly young men) may have been delayed by a flat tyre, or the car he is travelling in is pulled off the road for being un-roadworthy and/or unregistered, this then results in additional charges being laid against the defendant or his friend who offered to drive him to Yuendumu to attend court. An alternative scenario is that the defendant considers taking part in ceremonies has a higher priority than turning up in court. Then comes the Police’s “gotcha” moment- the defendant has a warrant out for “failing to appear” is arrested and placed in remand. He gets to rue not having taken his lawyer’s advice to plead guilty in the first place.

Sad to say our friend the Melbourne judge, will again be horrified when I tell him the latest on CAALAS.

The Attorney General suffered a “gotcha” moment when he was addressed as Senator Brandarse (see previous Dispatch).

On 30th October, Senator Brandis delivered a “gotcha” letter to CAALAS of punch to the solar plexus proportions:

“ … The Australian Government is committed to ensuring access to justice for Indigenous Australians and improving the lives of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people…” wrote the good Senator. Tell that to the countless incarcerated Indigenous Australians caught up in the justice system treadmill. Tell that to the hapless, highly committed, overworked, under-resourced, and underpaid legal workers and lawyers at CAALAS.

The good Senator added that: “… I acknowledge CAALAS’ long history in providing legal assistance services to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Central Australia…”

The Torres Strait Islander people of Central Australia!!!!??? ¿Que?

And then the solar plexus punch, the “gotcha”…..

“…. I have decided to offer the North Australian Aboriginal Justice Agency Ltd. (NAAJA) grant funding under the Indigenous Legal Assistance Program …. NAAJA will be the funded provider in the southern region of the Northern Territory….”

Up yours Brandarse and your cohorts.

Again I feel compelled to quote from ‘Martin Fierro’  (a 19th Century Argentine classic):

La ley es tela de araña
en mi inorancia lo explico
no la tema el hombre rico
nunca la tema el que mande
pues la rompe el bicho grande
y solo enrieda  a los chicos

The law is like a spider’s web,
In all humility I explain:
the rich man fears it not
neither he that is in command.
The large beetles break free
and only the small insects are ensnared

केवल प्यार नफरत को हरा सकता है


PS- The dearth of musical links in this Dispatch is a result of the rather grim subject matter, so if you’ve persevered in reading this I offer some beautiful Indian music… to lift up your spirits

A Friday reflection

same sex marriage all sorted.

The good thing about the same sex debate is that it’s kept us all busy. It’s kept our minds off all the distasteful things that we’d rather not know about, and in between it’s united and disunited us over everthing else. Well almost everything else.

“Civilisation” This is what Queensland is famous for.

Just last week we found out (we’d been told before) that over 400,000 acres of Queensland forest had been cleared in just a year. This is fantastic progress. We also found out that at the current rate of bleaching, the Great Barrier Reef will be completely stone cold dead within ten years. And that’s the optimistic scenario. As a bonus, we know that W.A reefs are also buggerred, and the Murray Darling, once worthy of the “Mighty” moniker, is so buggered it’s seriously in contention for a part pension and 457 visa, provided it can satisfy the stringent Centrelink criteria. There’s still quite a few people rotting on Manus Island, 400 odd at last count, and there’s signs that they’ll be there for a lot longer, which must be a source of great inspiration to them. Good then that few of them will celebrate Christmas there as they’re not all that into Christmas in the first place. And that’s because they’re Un-Australian

Indigenous incarcertion is still sky high and shows increased returns to the private prisons. Wages have gone beyond flat-lining and are now going backwards. Prices are up across the board, and the kiddies who were buggered, broken and bastardised by clergy will have a long time to wait, along with the diasabled who signed up for the NDIS. The speeds of the NBN aren’t all that flash either, at a billion trillion dollars the network might as well have been morse, and possibly a little faster. But the Chairman tells us that “She’ll be Jake”. No-one is quite sure who Jake is, but there’s a message that it may be an anagram for Kevin Rudd, or some other bloke, (a Malcolm was mentioned) who’s responsible for the NBN.

But though the environment is absolutely stuffed no one is worried about it. Cos it’s a sort of existential threat, and that can mean only one thing. It don’t vote. If existential threats voted we’d be buggered, but they just haven’t got the grasp of reality TV, Kim Kardashian’s bum, or anything to do with the Royal family.

But is it gay?

Corey, proof that being conservative hurts.

They’ve found a new planet, Earth-like only twelve light years away, but the problem is, we can’t go that fast, and if we did, we’d probably look like protoplasm when we get there. Which gets onto the most important part of contemporary news. That they’re about to map the human body, cell by cell. Which is all very well, but they haven’t yet mapped the human body soul by soul, and until they do, Corey Bernardii’s proposition on the floor of Parliament that abortions should be banned is hanging there out in the ether. Bit like a particle of information on the broadband. It’s very expensive, and we’re all cheapened in the process. And in the long run, just like the environment, nobody cares.

Same Sex Marriage fatigue.

This bloke got SSMF during the Irish referendum.

We at pcbycp are deeply shocked at the way the same sex non-binding non-compulsory referendum has gone. Either way you look at it, the whole thing smells, tastes and feels like a disaster. There’s no two ways about it. We make no bones, and must draw the line in the sand, and say unequivocally, without contradiction, that this whole same sex marriage fiasco has gone on way way too long.

Visible signs of SSMF

For instance just the other day I was waiting to catch the tram and I could see it on the faces in the street, SSMF, ( that’s Same Sex Marriage Fatigue). If you look closely, street lights, electricity poles and even major building structures show signs of SSMF. They’re all drooping. Where once they stood tall and upright, they’ve all got this langorous sense of lassitude. It’s all a bit Dali- esque, and I’m sure next time I look at Flinders Street Station’s famous clocks, they will all have that droopy look. The tram driver, was sullen and ashen faced, he was monosyllabic and gruntish when I greeted him with a courteous ‘G’day’. Same with the ticket inspector, as they filed onto the tram checking all the exists were blocked for would- be fare evaders. I saluted them and clicked my heels and all they could do was offer a curt repy, “show us your ticket please”!. Another clear instance of SSMF.

The police officer who pulled me over for riding my bicycle without a helmet, showed visible signs of SSMF, and according to the latest statistics, the incidence of work related stress in the police Force has gone through the roof. Another sign of SSMF.

Ex Qld premier now Official bank suck-hole with SSMF, and BDS (‘Bankers Droop Syndrome”)

Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the bloke at the petrol station wouldn’t even look at me as I paid for my petrol. The checkout chick at Coles, ignored my “have a nice day” and the final straw, was when the lollipop man at the school crossing just grunted, when I greeted him in all his hyper-orange finery, “have a nice day”.

The school kids are sullen, the dogs and cats in our neighbourhood wont bark or meow, and the postman when ever he does come by wont even leave the junk mail in the box. He just tosses it out into the garden, almost as if he didn’t care and I wasn’t there.

Her Majesty. Turned alcoholic through SSMF

This must cease, deleiver us from the SSMF that’s ripping the life blood out of our community, and save us for the entropy of ever having to make a decision that’s non binding. And for Christ’s sake, save us from Tony Jones and his non- debates on Lateline. We’ve had enough and don’t want to be distracted from the real issues facing this country.

What real issues you say? Record de- forestation of Queensland, knocking off the Great Barrier Reef, the rise of the kleptocracy, andf the non governance of Turnbull, Shorten, and and all their cronies. And the fact that we are neo feudal, at the high water mark of the neo liberal experiment.

None of the above. Bring back Guy Fawkes.

It was fun. And made sense of politics.

Seriously afflicted SSMF sufferer. Is there a cure? We plead.

Commmunity, the irony free zone.

Photoshop, it’s everything and yet absolutely nothing.

Dear reader, I was flicking thought the Guardian, and reading an article about squats in inner London. The artcle paid particular reference to the Aylesbury Estate. I remember it well, I took a wrong turn whilst pushing a pram in Elephant and Castle with my young son in it, and found myself in an alternate reality. I’d stepped beyond the tourist bubble.

The article demonstrated what Melboune would be like before too long. That is to become a place of extraordinary contrasts. Between the uber wealthy and the indecribably poor. I gleaned from the images that all these poor bastards, shown in squats, in parks, hanging about in car parks, any piece, any fragment of open space they could find and utilise as “free-space” were happy. They were hanging about, broke, penniless, and bereft, but they had one thing, a sense of community. Under threat from developers, government and opportunitsts. They make these spaces live and breathe, as marginalised “others”, the proverbial cockroaches, and  survive in “improved” urban environments, as an affront to “respectable gentrified society’.

Respectable gentrified society whether it be in Melbourne, London or Mumbai have a way of turning life dead. Ossification is what happens when you establish a monoculture. Searching for a reason I found one. It’s all of us. It’s the same with Trump. It’s what made Hillary unpalatable. Whilst we allow it to happen it rolls on. But there is one element which really irks, Photoshop.

In the Guardian article, there’s a vast slab of Southbank, (the one in London) that is being transformed into luxury apartments, another gentrified “ gated “ community. Another urban transformation, a “loss of grain”, as the planners would say. Another “metrocentric enclave”. But its more than that, there’s something much more sinister, and its all revealed in the image.

It’s Farenheit 451 bought to you by Photoshop. It’s not real. This is the beauty of computer generated images. It distills the complexity of the real world into simple logo-ised icons, and they’re incredibly revealing.

Take a look at the picture. It’s full of terribly successful enterprising females, (No Harvey Weinstein’s here). They clutch designer handbags. They agressively wear suglasses that cost a weeks wages. And they’re all incredibly fucking busy. Even when they’re walking. And they have water bottles. If you’re really important you clutch a water bottle. The same you imperiously slurp out of at business management meetings, and framework scoping meetings. And you’re always in between gym gear, pilates gear and some formal casual hybrid. And the only indicator of what stage of dress or formality you’re at is the label. Which proclaims; “Jeez, this tracksut cost me five hundred pounds, and some poor bastard in Bangladesh got pais five pence for it”.

It’s a gated community. It’s a bubble.

This is the Brave New World. We are all depleted. It’s an irony free zone in which each of us is worthless, and yet terribly conscious of our place in the greater scheme of things. Irony, humour, insight, memory and humanity are not measured in metrics or on photo shop.


Humanity risks being deleted.



Poetry Sunday 12 November 2017

Let America Be America Again (1937)

Langston Hughes1902 – 1967

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? 
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free?  Not me?
Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!

MDFF 11 November 2017

first posted 26 March 2013

All stand!

Last Thursday was an important day on the Yuendumu calendar.

A plane load of bureaucrats arrived to launch a ‘Closing the Gap’-Federal Government initiative: the $1.5 billion Remote Jobs and Communities Program with its inevitable acronym ‘RJCP’.  Free lunch and a barbeque were provided under the ‘Telstra Dome’ like roofed basketball Court.  Invitation posters had been put up (see attachment) inviting the Yuendumu citizenry to an ‘Information and Consultation session’

Do you recall that famous 1970 “Suppose They Gave A War and Nobody Came” poster?

Three locals attended the ‘I&CS’ (must confess- couldn’t resist and made this acronym up myself), all because it fell within their job sphere to do so.

Meanwhile at another Yuendumu Court, 35 criminal cases were being heard.

Whilst these important events were taking place two police vehicles in tandem were prowling the streets of Yuendumu.  They were hunting. They were revenue hunting that is. I did not ask the police how their hunting was going but know they caught at least one person who went to pick up someone at our airstrip and got done $420 for not wearing a seat belt and another $70 for not having his driver’s license on him (that he subsequently found in his pocket- too late!). Total $490, only $10 short of a fine a contractor received for placing a portable toilet on a sacred site near the top-end community of Numbulwar, after gaining an Intervention contract in 2007.

That evening many of us drove to Yuelamu (Mt. Allan) 35 Km east of here on the ‘back-road’. The language spoken at Yuelamu is Anmatyerre; most Yuelamu residents also speak Warlpiri which is as different to their language as Polish is to French. A screening of ‘Coniston’ was held at the Yuelamu Basketball Court which had been opened the previous day.

The murder of Fred Brooks in 1928 took place at Yurrkuru 55Km north east of Yuendumu. This triggered the so called Coniston Massacre in which during a series of punitive raids probably more than a hundred Aborigines were indiscriminately killed. A subsequent inquiry found the killing of ‘blacks’ to be ‘justified’. Over the years much has been written and filmed on the Coniston Massacre, but what makes this movie refreshingly different is that the story is told from a Yapa (Aboriginal) perspective.

The virtual absence of rancour and animosity could be a lesson to peace makers everywhere.

There is an old ‘joke’, I think originally from the Pacific: “We had the land and the missionaries had the Bible, then they came and now they have the land and we have the Bible”

In the film it was gently stated “Our land is no longer ours, it now belongs to the Pastoralists and the Miners. We never got justice” without anger or blame.

¿Que te ha pasado Justicia? (Justice what has happened to you?)

No justice and no Respect….

Just as I was starting to despair for the fate of Warlpiridom under the sustained assimilationist multipronged attack, along comes this film showcasing Yapa strength and humour. Any society that  can experience deep sorrow yet so heartily laugh at the oppressors and themselves, has a future. I’m not talking the Federal Government’s euphemistic Stronger Futures either.

This dispatch is taken from the posting of 20 June 2012

From the Publishers
K Rudd KRIn the wake of Kevin Rudd’s non challenge there was a very strong call on NITV Thursday night for the replacement of the Protector of Aborigines, Jenny Macklin, with some-one who might just listen and understand.

The picture on right was taken in May 2012.  The graffiti reads “Kevin Rudd Kuna Rurrpa” and was put on while he was Prime Minister.  We don’t imagine the Walpri term “Kuna Rurrpa” is a compliment.  



More good news on the funds management front.

Taking care of business. As banking rep Anna gets an office and a computer all to herself. Her soul was sold years ago.

People of Australia take heart. There’s no need to hold a banks Royal Commisson. We can rest assured that Anna Bligh represents the banks cos she’s an individual of the sort of conviction only a politician can be bought for. We feel it is of the utmost importance, to let you know just how things are with foreign investment. There’s a lot of it about, and some people are a bit hot under the collar, (not just Cardinal Pell and his tax free religious cohorts), but even people from the Peoples Republic of China as to where the funds ultimately come from. And you’ve gotta admit, after killing off manufacturing, selling off public assets, and waiting for the services industry to boom it’s not all that promising. Good thing we’ve got ‘Malcolm the Magnificent’ to turn it all around with an ‘Ideas Boom’. And ideas, are burgeoning, though no one in parliament is a ‘Real Australian’, (is that the same as un-australian?) we have a handle on what’s going on, and we learn.

There’s some blue chip investments coming out of Nigeria, and please reader take heed, and listen. It comes for  our Nigerian representative, Dr Evans Egobia. The good  Doctor writes in his own medico legal way, and we know he’s a real doctor, cos it’s full of typos…:

This couple made a killing out of creative capital

From Dr.Evans Egobia

Dear Friend

It is with trust and confidence that I write to make this urgent business proposal to you. I was assigned by two of my colleague to seek for a foreign partner who will assist us in providing a convenient foreign account in any designated bank abroad for the transfer of us$35,500,000.00 pending on our arrival in your country for utilization and disbursement with the owner of the account.

this amount results from a deliberate inflation of the value of a contract awarded by our ministry – the federal ministry of agriculture (fma)to an expatriate company.the contract has been executed and payment made to the original contractor,remaining the over-invoiced amount of us$35.5 million,which we want to transfer the funds out the country in ourfavour for disbursement among ourselves.the transfer of this money can only be possible with the help of a foreigner who will be presented as the beneficiary of the fund.

as government officials, we are not allowed to operate foreign accounts,and this is the reason why we decided to contact you. we have agreed that if you/your company can act as the beneficiary of this fund (us$35,500,000.00 million)25% of the total sum will be for you for providing the account while 5% will be set aside for the expenses incurred during the cost of transfer of the fund into your account while 70% will be reserved for us.

This man had real potential to divine money from water

we hereby solict for your assistance in providing a convenient account number in a designated bank abroad where this fund would be transferred.we intend coming over there on the completion of this transfer to secureour own share of the money.

please note that we have been careful and have made all arrangements towards the success and smooth transfer of the fund to your acccount beforeyou. for security reasons and confidenciality of this transaction, we demand that you should not expose this proposal and the entire transaction to anybody.

we are putting so much trust in you with the hope that you would not betray us. or sit on this money when it is finally transferred into your account.berest assured that this transaction is 100% risk free. if this proposal is acceptable to you,indicate your interest by sending a email to us including your bank name & address,account number,telephone and fax

note:our former president olusegun aremu obasanjo collaborated with the former chairman of the economic financial crime commission , mallam nuhun ribadu to stop the junior ranks officers from transferring funds out of the country. he sent different publication to many countries in the world as propaganda to discourage all government officials from transferring funds into an overseas account to avoid and save guides the countries economy.

These two have a handle on how economies work.

apparently, so that other government officials will not benefits from these( oil windfalls venture) where he has been a culprit alone with his aides.more details about this transaction will be given to you as soon as we receive your positive respond.

note that the particular nature of your company’s business is irrelevant to this transaction. if this transaction interests you, your urgent response will be appreciated.


yours faithfully,


Dr.Evans Egobia

Fiduciary Funds management assistance is at hand.

‘Nice People” who prefer “Paradise Paper”

Dear reader, in these vexed times, it’s nice to know there are people out there in cyberspace who are willing to help you. Indeed with the release of the ‘Paradise Papers’ we now know that “Nice” people know how to invest their earnings securely. And with the right advice can avoid the silly, degrading obligation of having to pay tax. And thus alleviate themselves from  the odious responsibility of thinking themselves as part of a community.

This delightful old lady always chooses “Paradise”

We are exceedingly glad that “right minded” people can then make the ethical choice of which charity they can set up and what tax incentives and government grants they can secure as they spend their discretionary funds. And it’s encouraging to know as the Spring Racing Carnival is in full flurry, there’s a lot to be made by taking an informed punt. Particularly when  you know that you’re the only horse in the field. And that ‘Spinner’ will most assuredly come in, so to speak.

Therefore it is with some enthusiasm we publish this letter from a sincere and thoughtful individual who hails from Nigeria. Intent upon improving the world thorugh that rare human spirit of alturism. We implore the general public, “if only there could be more like this’, what a wonderrful world it would be. The full transcript is as follows: (We apologise for any grammatical errors. The truth is they write like that in Nigeria)

From: “Mrs.Marina Williams”<>
Date: 31 October 2017 at 2:05:59 pm AEDT
Subject: Re: The truth about your funds.
Reply-To: <>

Some families won’t accept anything other than ” Paradise”. And it’s a free country!!

Hello Dear,

A nice Nigerian man will help you with your investments.

I am Mrs.Marina Williams, I am one of those people that took part in receiving Inheritance funds and Lottery funds from European banks even from many lottery organization ,Atm card and Compensation funds etc few month’s ago and they refused to pay me which i though i had been scammed due to the no avail, responds from the Agent i have been working with, I had paid different fees while in the United States trying to get my funds from those banks, ATM CARD And Compensation and lottery organization but all to no avail. Which is why i Mrs.Marina Williams decided to travel to West Africa Nigeria for the claiming of my funds with all my compensation documents, and I was directed by the IMF Director to contact the reconciliatory Barrister Frank Daniel, who is also an attorney, A USA citizen and a member of the UNITED NATIONS & IMF COMPENSATION AWARD COMMITTEE currently working with IMF in the WEST AFRICA NIGERIA and I contacted him and he explained everything to me. He said who ever is contacting us through emails
Presently I have received my compensation payment of $20 million dollars. Barrister Frank Daniel showed me the full information of those that are yet to receive their Inheritance, Lottery payment and I saw your email address as one of the beneficiaries who is to receive the payment worth of $5 million dollars which is why I decided to send you a mail for you to stop dealing with those people claiming to be in charge of your funds, they are not with your fund, they are only making money out of you.


I will personally advise you to contact Barrister Frank Daniel he will assist you as he is a very religious man with the fear of God.
i know it will hard for you to believe me but the has to be said and i am a living testimony, i will really advice you to contact him because he will really assist you in this transaction for your funds to be transferred to your account.


With safe investments you can run the country and win a horse race all at the same time.

Compensation Award Office.


Name: Barrister Frank Daniel


The Horse Race that stops a Nation.

New Zealand P.M says “capitalism is broken”. Ruled ineligible for the Melbourne Cup.

Dear reader, we were going to devote this week to some really hard hitting trenchant pieces. (that’s stuff you write in a trench at Gallipoli) These pieces were to put the lid on the perplexing issues that face us in this era of crises. In one fell swoop we were going to lift the lid on inequality, racism and the disparity between the have’s and have nots. We were about to deliver a series of breathtakingly analytical pieces on why the body politic aint working. Why capitalism is broken. And why there’s a kiddy somewhere who hasn’t got an I-pad.


Without reality television we know that out society is doomed. Without the ongoing stimulus of Adani, to make us wealthier we are doomed. Without housing estates stretching as far as the eye can see as testament to our wealth as a nation, we know we’re doomed.

We thought we’d devote some really serious thinking to these issues. And, above all, as this vast panoply of goverance, is rent, ripped and torn asunder upon the merciless, mendacity of the market, we were going to take one step further, beyond the realm of human understanding, and say something really profound. It’s an epoch we’re in. And we don’t flinch from making an epoch making statement. For that is our purpose at pcbycp. Not to flinch. Not one little bit.

“Inequality” scratched.

But a horse race has stopped the nation.

In a nation-sized horse race, it proves our worth as a civilised people.

The following is a trasnscript from the race-call.

Only now, in the afterglow of this truly significant event can we now describe the race in detail.

‘Inequity’ was scratched a day before the big event. ‘Compassion’ and ‘Tolerance’ were both late scratchings, and that only left after the sudden withdrawal of ‘Intelligence’, ‘Foresight’, ‘Historical Fact’ and ‘Environment’ only eight horses left in the field.

And it was a close race, almost too tight to call.

After a bunched start, ‘Bigotry’, was level pegging with ‘Xenephobia’, the two vied for the lead into the first 1000 metres. “Naked Greed’, closely followed by ‘Real Estate’ and ‘Un- Australian’, were making a real challenge. “Xenephobia” came in a late rally at the 1200 metre mark and looked set to take the lead. Stretching out on the final turn “Aboriginal Australia”, went lame and had to be put down, whilst ‘Incarceration’ and ‘Kleptocracy’ came for nowhere to mount a real challenge. It was neck and neck, the crowd on the edge of their seats, unable to contain their excitement as ‘Naked Greed’, ‘Klepotcracy’ and ‘Xenephobia’ made a last sprint for home. And then just as it seemed ‘Xenephobia’ would race forward a little over three lengths in front, “Anzackery’ made a late challenge, and was about to stride first across the winning post when from out of nowhere, ‘Minerals and Energy’ made a dash and came across the line to win the 156th Melbourne Cup.

“Maggotted”, another late scratching.

As a postscript, ‘Renewables’, Public Imagination” and “Gay Marriage’, failed to catch the frontrunners and retired from the track.


We are thrilled to report that after the stewards made their report it was decalred a dead heat. “Minerals and Energy” equal first with ‘Anzackery’ and ‘Xenephobia’, the winners of the Melbourne Cup. It’s a race that stopped the nation, and ensures that in spite of what’s said , this is a nation of heavy lifters. Each winner carried up to fifteen lumps of real coal in their saddle bags. Proof of the power of Minerals and Energy in leading Australia.


And Minerals and Energy as a short priced favourite, it was a happy day for the punters.

Poetry Sunday 05 November 2017

Waiting for the Barbarians


(This poem was read by The Hon. Barry Jones at Jean McLean and her husband Eric’s recent 60th wedding anniversary.)
What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
      The barbarians are due here today.
Why isn’t anything going on in the senate?
Why are the senators sitting there without legislating?
      Because the barbarians are coming today.
      What’s the point of senators making laws now?
      Once the barbarians are here, they’ll do the legislating.
Why did our emperor get up so early,
and why is he sitting enthroned at the city’s main gate,
in state, wearing the crown?
      Because the barbarians are coming today
      and the emperor’s waiting to receive their leader.
      He’s even got a scroll to give him,
      loaded with titles, with imposing names.
Why have our two consuls and praetors come out today
wearing their embroidered, their scarlet togas?
Why have they put on bracelets with so many amethysts,
rings sparkling with magnificent emeralds?
Why are they carrying elegant canes
beautifully worked in silver and gold?
      Because the barbarians are coming today
      and things like that dazzle the barbarians.
Why don’t our distinguished orators turn up as usual
to make their speeches, say what they have to say?
      Because the barbarians are coming today
      and they’re bored by rhetoric and public speaking.
Why this sudden bewilderment, this confusion?
(How serious people’s faces have become.)
Why are the streets and squares emptying so rapidly,
everyone going home lost in thought?
      Because night has fallen and the barbarians haven’t come.
      And some of our men just in from the border say
      there are no barbarians any longer.
Now what’s going to happen to us without barbarians?
Those people were a kind of solution.
C. P. Cavafy, “Waiting for the Barbarians” from C.P. Cavafy: Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Translation Copyright © 1975, 1992 by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard.