This piece has been taken direct from the provided link. It seems a reasonable way to go forward if we still feel that the Pig’s Arms has a future.

So far the P/A has had a fairly reasonable run but the moderation has been almost non- existent. Most blogs insist on real names and do not accept language that is insulting or use expletives s.a fuck, cunt etc. It just shows lack of literacy and courtesy.

https://theconversation.com/au/community_standards

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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 77,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 3 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Gay Brisbane man faces deportation to Pakistan and possible jail as relationship not recognised

AM By Nance Haxton
http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-01-03/gay-man-faces-deportation-to-pakistan-as-relationship-not-recog/5183462

A gay man who has been living in Brisbane for four years will be deported next week after his application for a partnership visa was refused.

This will put him at risk of being jailed in the country of his birth for being openly homosexual.

Ali Choudhry grew up in the United States and has few contacts in Pakistan.

He cannot read or write the local language.

He has been in a relationship with Brisbane brain surgeon Dr Matthew Hynd for the past four years.

Mr Choudhry and Dr Hynd were one of the first gay couples in Queensland to register their civil union on March 12, 2012.

It was a significant day that they celebrated with family and friends.

We’re so used to seeing the Pacific rendered in colour, with beautiful, happy shiny people with hibiscus flowers tucked behind their ear.

Ben Bohane

Nearly two years later, Mr Choudhry’s application for a visa recognising his relationship with Dr Hynd has been refused.

He says he cannot understand why theirs is not considered a legitimate long-term partnership.

“We applied for a partnership visa to try and keep me here, and keep us together,” he said.

“For us, for whatever reason, it took about two years, and then even after all that time, it came back as a no.”

Immigration Minister rejects appeal

Mr Choudhry faces harassment and possible life imprisonment in Pakistan for being gay.

Dr Hynd says they do not know what to do.

“The worst case is, Ali will be deported next week on his birthday,” he said.

“You know, what do we do now? To go back to a country where, you know, there is life imprisonment for being gay.

“And, I mean, he grew up in America, he’s never lived in Pakistan.

“By country of birth, yes, but this is a country where he doesn’t read the language – he can speak it – but how are you supposed to then get a job?”

Survived floods to set up business

Mr Choudhry lost all his possessions in the Brisbane floods.

He has since set up a photography business in Brisbane, but is preparing for deportation on January 8.

“Marriage equality and things like that are things that really do need to happen and happen soon, sooner than later,” Mr Choudhry said.

“The response that I got on my initial day in there were, the fellow who was there that I should just get married.

“I mean, if I could, if I had that option I would do that.”

Two weeks ago, he was notified that he must leave Australia after his visa review application to Immigration Minister Scott Morrison was also rejected.

Mr Choudhry has now lodged an appeal to the Migration Review Tribunal, but may not find out if that application is accepted before his deportation.

Mr Morrison was not available for interview.

His spokesman said in a statement that same-sex couples are assessed no differently from heterosexual couples regarding immigration matters.

The spokesman said while they cannot comment on individual cases for privacy reasons, all applicants must meet relevant criteria to be granted a visa and that these extend beyond whether there is a genuine and ongoing relationship.

Dr Hynd says the ramifications of the visa rejection for both of them both are dire.

“We have no idea what else we can do other than invite maybe the Immigration Minister into our bed and say, hey, this is two guys sleeping in the same bed.

“If you do not believe that, you know, we’re in a relationship, then I just don’t know.”

A house in Rio de Janeiro

In between getting older and being old, have I left living in Brazil a bit late? I have always felt that there must be places that offer more excitement than Australia. “Oh Gerard, have you not learnt enough yet. Excitement is what you make yourself?” This is what reasonable people have always told me. “You are out of your mind”, from the same reasonable people. Another favourite saying thrown as a morsel to keep me sated or even sedated. ” You will never find anything better than Australia”, “it is the best country.” Is this last bit an attempt to quell their own uncertainty?

Perhaps it is nothing more than my own wish to escape from getting old, pretending that moving about will stop ageing, I have a tendency to dream that a nirvana exists always somewhere else except at the present place. Another bout of useless dreaming of foreign countries. It could also be, that reasonable people are possessed with a lot of sangfroid but bereft of coping with anything much more exciting than a change of direction of stirring the tea and milk anti clockwise. Their major concession to adventure. I am surrounded by a sea of tea stirrers all in tandem. Round and round they stir.

I know, that Christmas always brings out in me a kind of melancholy. Contrary to what most people seem to want, my melancholy runs its course and doesn’t stop just because of a looming deadline. Perhaps unreal expectations are running rampant in others and I know and feel that too keenly. Does a certain date of 25th of December make necessary for a total mayhem of life? Is the 26th or 29th of Dec not very much like any other date? If the 25th is such a nice date, why is every day not like the 25th? Yes, I know it is Christmas and very special, but we still continue breathing, laughing, or not, like every other day. The sun comes up and goes down, just the same as any other day. It also often rains.

Today, it is still more than ten days till Christmas. Even so, in the shopping avenues there is a certain tension building up already. You can see an increase in tempo. Is time starting to run faster? Is the minute now getting shorter?

Brows are furrowed and people are nervously lugging huge trolleys laden with mountains of food. Today I saw a lady wearing a floral dress who would normally, (I assume somewhat brazenly) calmly go through the dairy division (small goods) of the super market to buy a small diet yoghurt. Today though, she threw all caution to the wind, loading 12 six packs of apricot smooth yoghurt with attached spoons in her groaning trolley.

Later on, while I was studying the different bags of garden potting mix outside, this same lady was ripping into one of the six packs apricot yoghurts with the spoon now unattached. After I bought and rolled my two bags of potting mix on my trolley to the footrest car and taking the trolley back, this same lady was on her third yoghurt. Is the Christmas spirit causing a hot fever resulting in an uncontrollable urge to slurp fruit laden yoghurt?

I remember last year finding a half eaten leg of ham in a bin just outside the Woolworth super market. It was in the full sun and would have gone off. In any case, flies were busy buzzing. It had teeth marks on it. Did some soul’s hunger get the better of him or her? Later on I speculated on who could possibly have partly eaten a leg of ham and then discard it in a bin. Did some people hold an impromptu ham eating party around the corner on the grass verge to celebrate the Christmas. Did they eat it late at night?

It is not unusual to see people buying food at the supermarket only to see them outside the door and start eating. They wrestle with the plastic wrapping. Their hands are shaking. This eating seems urgent and the need to satisfy hunger is immediate. Not a second to lose. One can assume that food had run out at home and that finally only hunger drove them to the shop…

It is therefore not surprising I started dreaming of how life would be in Brazil. An escape from the tedium. I can hardly believe that those sort of strange Woolworth eating cultural habits would exist there as well. I know that hunger thrives in Brazil. The slums of Rio have hordes of hungry kids going around for food. But they also laugh and play soccer. From my experience in Argentina, people do have different life habits. Hunger here seems lonely and suffered in isolation. In Brazil, I hope and speculate, hunger if it is still rampant there, is shared and communal. A shared hunger is preferred to an isolated one. Shared anything is better.

I found a house outside Rio de Janeiro with twenty five hectares and two waterfalls. Here it is.

http://www.viviun.com/AD-194312/

No Christmas can be celebrated without considering all animals. The entire Noah’s Ark will be lit up, festooned with pretty baubles and thousands of flickering multi coloured lights, all provided by a solar panel fastened to the main mast. When reindeer have finished their endless flights over rooftops, they too will be asked to join the party.

The table has been set for twelve thousand two hundred forty four guests including four lions, nine elephants and many birds including a pair of wedge tail eagles, a robin and twenty two sparrows. Milo is at the head of the table ( he insisted on it) well away from the possum family who are safely seated and protected in between the jaguars and hyenas. A solitary skunk will be allowed to crawl around underneath the table after promising he won’t look up any stockinged thighs of belted Galloways.

As a special gesture of goodwill and sweetness AC/DC are providing the music with a few solitary violin pieces by Vivaldi during the eating of the Pavlova in memory of Анна Павловна (Матвеевна)The principal ballerina of the Russian Ballet. It was a special request by Milo, who as some of you might now, has been practising his very graceful leaping up into trees. (to try and kill possums, but we won’t talk about that, will we?).

Even so, we know the animal world is very much involved in feelings (more than many people animals) and even though the pavlova is sweet on popular request they insist on seeing, as is their wont every year, yet again a performance of her ” The dying Swan”. This lovely piece was projected on a large screen.

The whole table became quiet and many looked down on their plate of Pavlova struggling with the eating of something so sweet and at the same time seeing the real Anna Pavlova so graceful, yet so tragic. They reflected on how, they too would, at some stage follow life and succumb, like the swan, to a dying. It was so and no one would ever be denied this final dance. Was it something that could even be looked forward to? Ah, the mystery of life.

The animal world reflected deeply on one of life’s deep questions. One of the elephants had tears in his eyes; he told the giraffe next to him, the Couscous was repeating on him, and he needed to stretch his trunk. Needless to point out that the Christmas dinner was totally vegetarian. One can imagine if a roast pork had been served up or worse, a leg of lamb. The horror, the horror. Even a single prawn would have caused a solidarity of revulsion amongst all the animals.

Milo, in the meantime, felt that the table ought to be brought back to a more cheerful festive mood and decided to pull some crackers with good old silly corny jokes.

Why did Santa’s helper see the doctor?
Because he had a low “elf” esteem!
What happened to the man who stole an Advent Calendar?
He got 25 days!
What kind of motorbike does Santa ride?
A Holly Davidson!
What do you call Santa’s little helpers?
Subordinate clauses!

Happy Christmas to all the animals (and people too, if they stay good) from Milo and his best adult friends.

Tags: Anna Pavlova, Christmas, Анна Павловна (Матвеевна), Russian Ballet, Santa, The dying Swan
Posted in Gerard Oosterman

Posted in Gerard Oosterman

The magnificent Raan Curry for Christmas beckons
December 9, 2013

If the Turkey for Christmas is getting a bit hackneyed and the ham has soured, consider the Raan dish. I won’t bother with giving you the exact details in grams ounces or kilos. Try and create your own Raan by just imagining tasting the combination of the different herbs, spices and ingredients.

You know that if you put in a kilo of salt the dish is likely to be very salty. Cooking is very much anticipating how things will taste by mixing and imagining the taste of the mixed ingredients before cooking. The religious following of recipes with the book propped up against the kitchen whisk is never going to be a surprise. Not as a failed dish nor of a basking in the glory of an unimaginable masterpiece, hailed by Rick Stein, Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver and all your guests for years to come. Take the risk!

So, here we go. The bulk of this dish is mutton or at least a large leg of sheep. You need a well aged leg not a lamb leg although that is permissible as well. This dish is Northern India and as you travel up further north, the Indian cuisine starts to be less chilli hot and becomes more infused with the sweetness of yoghurt and dried fruit, raisins, currants etc. of the Northern regions.

The secret of this dish is that the leg of mutton is allowed to cure or ‘cook’ for about three days in the fridge by the acidity of the marinade. The marinade has to be enough to cover the meat. Voila, you need plenty of good quality yoghurt, the juice of about 4 lemons about 200 grams of raisons and currants, a tablespoon of turmeric, a couple of teaspoons of cinnamon, about 4 red-hot chillies, some cloves and about two teaspoons of cardamom, salt and sugar.

Mix the marinade in a mixer and let stand for about one hour, mix again. In the meantime pierce the leg and insert cloves of garlic. Good juicy garlic and not the cheap Chinese tasteless carton stuff. Poor the marinade over the lamb in a dish large enough to hold the leg.

Put in the fridge and leave for about two to three days occasionally turning the meat.
Then… as the excitement mounts…pre-heat oven to 200c and cook the lamb for about 30 minutes. Turn heat to 160c and cook 45 minutes for every kilo of the meat. It is cooked when the meat falls off the bone. When it does. Turn off the oven. Boil basmati rice.

I was amazed some years ago when we had Japanese students living in our house they were using an electric rice cooker. When I told them I thought the Japanese had invented boiling rice, they smiled politely but they never tried my system. She said, oh no… too risky! Can you believe it?
Here is how to boil rice; Just cover the rice with one finger digit of water on top of the rice and bring quickly to boil without the lid on. When water is disappearing and holes appear in the rice, put on the lid and turn the gas off. Wait for about twenty minutes and the rice should be dry crumbly and cooked. Perfect

Now, this is the important bit… Break the lamb into bite size chunks, put on the plate with the rice and pour some of the marinade over the lot. Some chutney or cucumber with yoghurt as a side dish compliments the dinner. Have it with chilled water with lime slices floating on top. Don’t muck around with wine. It spoils it. Have it afterwards.
Enjoy and let me know the results.

Tags: Curry, India, Jamie Oliver, Japan, Nigella Lawson, Raan, Rick Stein
Posted in Gerard Oosterman |

The running of the XMas Shoppers.
December 6, 2013

There really needs to be an historical investigation on so many different varieties on the theme of Santa. How come there are a dizzying number of personages claiming to be the original Santa. There is the Bishop from Spain with a servant called black Pieter or Pete by its more colloquial name. He travels to Holland on a White Horse. This Bishop wears a mitre with a white beard and despite this neat attire he climbs down sooty chimneys to either bring gifts to good children or a good thrashing to naughty ones.

Today, the 5th of Dec. Saint Nicholas is being celebrated in Holland. There is wild uninhibited dancing on the streets and herrings are being freely traded on the Amsterdam Bourse and Dam Square.

He, the Bishop of Spain as mentioned before, hails (logically) from Spain and he mucks around in Holland on the 5th of December when the good children are scared witless by black Pieter (Pete). However, the presents make up for the scary bits and the Dutch children’s tears soon dry up. In Spain no one has heard about him. A bit like that Dutch fable of someone holding a finger in the dyke; world famous legend except totally unknown in The Netherlands.

Of course in winter the Dutch during Santa’s ride over roofs don’t have fires going. Just imagine the ire from the Bishop singeing his mitre or blackening his beard while clambering down a red-hot chimney? Most Dutch families therefore sit in the dark corner of the room, shivering, while staring at the chimney. His future is in doubt while many are now claiming poor old black Pete to be a product of racism. There is no peace or understanding in traditions anymore. All is tinged with pc. When will it stop?

Then there is an Anglo/American Santa. He rides in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and is hailed from Finland or Disney Land. He humms and does ho, ho, ho. In Finland there are bits of Sibelius’ ‘Finlandia’ thrown in for good measure. In Lapland he is also known as Father Christmas not so much as Santa. He brings presents on Christmas Eve. He is a more generous version than the pure Anglo Santa by giving presents to both good and naughty children. The only thrashing in Lapland is of the stubborn reindeers. In England of course, especially during Charles Dickens days both children and reindeer got daily beatings, keeping it all in the hallowed tradition of ‘teach the bastards a good lesson’. 😉 It is all so complicated.

They escape blame now by pointing out that the nasty Santa comes from Swedish Lapland. It is confusing especially when over the last few years children are put on soft bosomed female Santa’s knees. So many bishops have done bad things no one trusts the male clergy of any domination in England. In Australia too, male Santa has been put on the backburner. He is skulking at home and suffers from deep depression. The male Santas now seek counselling but end up kicking the cat and are nasty to bank tellers.

The female Santas in the meantime do a roaring trade with the mums and no doubt get a sling back from the photographer immortalizing the littlies in black and white.

I don’t know the cultural intricacies of Santa/and or Bishops in America. They have a mixture of both and I have heard that turkeys are involved. They traditionally eat turkeys at Thanksgiving but also eat them a few weeks later again, with relish (or without relish) at Christmas. They, the turkeys must be terribly nervous there.

Thanksgiving is when many Americans dance around haystacks and hand bound sheafs of wheat, all spread in neat rows on the stubbled yellow land, not unlike a Vincent’s painting. In the evening they partake of a large oven roasted turkey with a dessert of pairs of pared pears and fresh cream.

Lately, the turkeys have been given presidential pardons so, they go gobble, gobble even lustier, till…come Christmas and Santa holding a sharp cleaver hidden up his sleeve, creeps behind many a hapless (and soon headless) turkey. Turkeys then prefer to lay low hidden in the crofts of old leaning sheds and at the back of very rusty Ford utilities resting underneath old willow trees.

You can tell Santa is getting close when “the running of the shoppers” start. The atmosphere within giant shopping Malls, the holy Mecca for shoppers, crackles with static combustion caused by the frantic fanatical movements of shoppers running manically en masse through shopping aisles. Huge hams are being fought over. Children get smacked ripping into overblown sized bags of Violet Crumble bars while sitting in the trolley on top of mum’s bacon rashes. Husbands look pale, frightened and wait in Japanese cars below in grim concrete parking bunkers. From Germany a report is coming in from someone being beaten senseless by a frozen turkey that was being swung around by an elderly gent, overcome by the relentless jingle bell, jingle bell chiming.

Garlic bread is suffering a late run and so are crumbed calamari, stuffed olives and jars of maple “flavoured’ syrup.
One young lady wearing a T-shirt which had ‘fu*k U’ written on it, went for some early snifters of Christmas spirit. She was found spreadeagled over at ‘smallgoods’ on top of a raw Kiev chicken that had been pre-marinated in Finland Vodka.

Many Santas now do courses in self esteem with the help of white boards and large textures while also throwing pillows at each other. Is it any wonder? Who can blame them/

Dear Santa, give us our daily rye bread with just a slice of smoked salmon. (A Dutch croquette would be nice too.)It all taste so good and nice.

Tags: America, Amsterdam, Black Pieter, Finland, Santas
Posted in Gerard Oosterman |