Libnat Product Endorsement #18 TA BP
13 Tuesday Aug 2013
Posted in Uncategorized
13 Tuesday Aug 2013
Posted in Uncategorized
13 Tuesday Aug 2013
Posted in Uncategorized
Note: Video is a bit dodgy at the start sometimes, but bear with it – it started working for me and the dialogue is gold. There’s a running commentary on what he’s doing while hes doing it, what the audience reaction was – and what it could have been – the different segments of the audience… and merciless pisstakes on Americans, anti-muslim nutters, the stupidity of modern life, Top Gear, Margaret Thatcher …….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj2LcKdRU0o
Over at iView, you can see the whole two hours of this show with no video hassles – it’s unbelievably clever and twists and turns, returning to expand earlier jokes.
09 Friday Aug 2013
Posted in Algernon, Entertainment Upstairs
Playlist by Algernon
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lGaIwh58t0
The Doors – LA Woman
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fi1sBwV1-tU
Dark side of the Moon – Pink Floyd
09 Friday Aug 2013
Posted in Emmjay, Politics in the Pig's Arms
In the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, I was fond of reading the weekly newspaper The Nation Review. There were many top shelf contributors including luminaries of the times like Germaine Greer, Phillip Adams, John Hepworth, Morris Lurie, Bob Ellis and the redoubtable cartoonists of the day, Michael Leunig and Patrick Cook. Richard Walsh wrote a paperback coffee table book about the Nation Review and charted its course through to its demise in 1983 (thanks Wikipedia). Walsh’s book was called “Ferretabilia” – maybe a copy or two left at Leura Books – because Nation Review as Wiki says “styled itself as ‘Lean and Nosey – like a ferret’
I always enjoyed Mungo MacCallum’s pieces and I was reminded of this in today’s book purchase at random – from Berkelouw’s in Newtown – called “Punch and Judy” – referring (too kindly in my view) to the state of the recent and current political canvas.
In this book, Mungo shows us that he’s lost none of his sharp, perceptive and dry wit since those Nation Review days. He borrows the definition of “Punch and Judy” from Eric Partridge’s Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English (“a deception, an unbelievable story”) and dedicates the book to his old friend Graham Freudenberg (Gough Whitlam’s speech writer), referring to the old days when politics was “important, passionate and fun”.
And it occurred to me that he’s summed up nicely the current political malaise in just a handful of words -it certainly isn’t like the old days – politics nowadays have become trivial, deeply disrespectful, cynical and dire.
Richard Walsh said that the Nation Review folded because the readership had moved on and that many people amongst the paper’s left-leaning readership had become – by 1983 – disenchanted with politics – not least because of an abiding sense of unassuaged outrage at the Dismissal, but also because of the ridiculous caravan of buffoons the Labor party had foisted on the Australian citizenry, the decent bloke but unelectable leadership of Bill Hayden (who was as charismatic as his batting counterpart in cricket – Bill Lawry, otherwise referred to as ‘ a corpse with pads’) and the apparent contentment voters seemed to feel under Malcolm Fraser’s prime minister-ship. Until Bob Hawke broke the national political slumber party and set the Labor record by winning four elections on the trot.
That may have been true, but I recall the 1980s as a decade of working my bum off, making a quid, buying a house and raising a pair of baby Emmlets. I let my membership of the Labor party lapse because other, more personal things intervened. I left – as they say – “for family reasons”.
Meanwhile in another universe, John Hewson, like Tony Abbott more recently, managed to lose the unlosable election – to the much disliked, but enormously talented and consummate politician, Paul Keating (whose Dad, incidentally played bowls with my Dad on the odd occasion).
Tony Abbott, similarly lost the unlosable election to the much disliked Julia Gillard – who proved to be not so much ‘consummate’ as she was ‘consumed’. Although nobody can take away from her triumph – the NDIS – or the poisoned chalice of being Australia’s first female prime minister.
Mungo MacCallum’s book is about the 2010 election, but so much of his picture remains as fresh as the day he painted it. The political landscape seems to have changed so little, notwithstanding the last election result being the first minority government since World War II.
Both parties struggle to be more popular under their respective leaders, abandoning the fundamental principles that should be their raison d’etre. How can voters of conservative or progressive persuasions deal with the unashamed bastardry of the asylum seeker issue, the poll-driven gutlessness or straight out incompetence of the mining super tax, the on and off and on carbon tax (which surely has to be one of the daftest responses to the seemingly deniable climate change disaster) ?
Is it any wonder under the current major parties and their dropkick leaders that we are facing an impossible choice – a brown turd government or a black turd government ? Is it any wonder that the outcome is more likely to be determined by redneck idiots believing a massively lethal and self-interested, even evil media ? Is it any wonder than the youth vote – that could have the power to turn this election into something that might arouse some passion and idealistic fervour – could not give a tinker’s cuss ?
I have to admit that I felt – and still feel that John Howard was a disgrace to his high office – and that a man who, riding on the coat tails of such an unworthy dill as George W Bush, took Australia into not one, but two completely unjustifiable bloody and disastrous conflicts. And I was proud that Australians told Howard and his cronies how lowly we regarded them, when they tossed him out of his own electorate and the Libnats out of government.
We didn’t throw him out for this reason. We threw him out mainly because of his shitty, demonstrably unfair and un-Australian industrial relations policies – rightly hammered in a wonderfully effective campaign run by the unions – before the same unions’ leaders went on to show an undisguised propensity to spend their member’s union dues in brothels.
Instead of the Rodent, we went on blind trust with a dork who magically appeared out of the Queensland wilderness and turned into some kind of administrative mandarin-speaking autocratic brown nose.
But perhaps the most telling observation offered by Mungo MacCallum was the poisonous internal shitfighting of both the major parties. The NSW Labor corruption managed to eclipse the incompetence of the far right Labor in NSW and Queensland that, thanks to the media, well and truly (and perhaps rightly so) overshadowed the recriminations within the Liberals – Abbott turning on the NSW Liberal far right religious power-broker David Clark who Abbott saw as stacking the NSW party with dud candidates and thereby ensuring the loss of the unlosable election. If this is not a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black, I’ll be damned.
And let’s not forget the Abbot – Turnbull leadership debacle, which, had the one vote majority gone to Turnbull instead of Abbott, could have seen the biggest landslide in Australian political history instead of this tensely poised struggle between two idealistically barren drop kicks.
This time the choice for voters is different. Through both the main parties’ barren policies and their cynical power-hungry amoral machinations, they have set in stone the abject poverty of the two-party system. They have shown us that both the Labor and the Liberal parties have become corrupt and despicable beyond belief.
This time Australia really needs to throw out not only the Government – but also the Opposition. And unless we let the two main parties go, a double double dissolution is impossible to achieve.
I have said in a previous article (OK, I admit that it was clichéd) that Australians will get the government we deserve, regardless of the outcome. If our elections continue to be won by manipulating the media, by convincing rednecks and bogan half-wits with no moral compass to vote (even against their own personal interests) for policies (like boat arrivals) that are unimportant in the bigger scheme of things, and ignore issues that DO matter – like climate change, education, employment and the environment, the world will see another prime example of the ugly side of western democracy – government of the unworthy, for the unworthy, by the unworthy.
05 Monday Aug 2013
Posted in Algernon, Entertainment Upstairs
Playlist by Algernon
As many of us know JJ Cale died last weekend, I thought I might just present two albums from the 1970’s as a tribute.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9pS_cc_qJI
Naturally
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvyLJdTPNWM
Troubadour
05 Monday Aug 2013
Posted in Uncategorized
Friends of the Pig’s Arms might recognise a familiar furry face – Nelson the Cat.
Ricardo has hit the big time with his recount of Nelson’s adventures – you can catch the Kindle version over here, pick up a copy – maybe a friendly review, perhaps ? …….
Trials and Tribulations of Nelson the Cat
29 Monday Jul 2013
Posted in Emmjay, Politics in the Pig's Arms
Story by Emmjay
Mr D’arcy wore the concern of a man in denial on his face like a poodle suppressing a fart on the steps of Parliament. This was his moment. His unlosable election strung out in front of him like a python with an impossibly large pig stuck in its gullet. Despite his profound ignorance, his minders regularly had recourse to remind him that unless he continued to shut the fuck up, more people than they, would know the depth of his incapacity. So D’arcy had good cause to worry, because if he actually failed to swallow the pig, there was a cadre of mining magnates who would drive one so far up him his eyes would water.
D’arcy knew he had the stuff of a lesser man and that the electorate saw him as unworthy of a position of great office; not worthy of the front bench in the Leichhardt Wanderers change room, let alone the front bench of the government. An inquiring mind might have asked its owner why it was that such a statesman as he, was so loathed by the population that they would prefer to vote for a complete dickwad like Mr Bumble.
But it was precisely because D’arcy lacked an inquiring mind that he was oblivious to the fact that even the reddest necks in the borough were convinced that he was a not only a fraud, but undoubtedly a blue ribbon shithead. But to be fair, his party was a legendary band of criminals, dunces and pants-wetters who believed implicitly in their divine right to rule, and D’arcy believed in his diviner right to rule them and by extension, to rule the whole borough – and nothing but the borough, so help him God.
And he was convinced that he had that special relationship with the deity that would see him triumph by sheer dint of persistence. His was a God who took no prisoners, who brooked no backchat from soft-cock do-gooders, who set women in their place – swooning in crinolines with the kind of amnesia that women D’arcy had shagged or king hit or both (not necessarily in that order) could reasonably expect to experience.
If D’arcy had had a clue, he would have known that not a single person on his own back bench would pee on him if he caught fire – which, according to the bulletin posted in the men’s toilet and the long train of various “hear, hears”, was quite a popular aspiration.
In truth he was massively unpopular. But that wasn’t why he wore his worried look. D’arcy hadn’t punched a grogan in almost three weeks. He had forgotten the number immediately after 1. And strain as well he might, he could not, in effect, give a shit, any more than he could articulate a policy.
The pressure was on. He had to table a policy and liberate a brown trout (not necessarily in that order either). He was stuck. D’arcy decided to consult his numbers man. “I’m having trouble getting past one, Mr Ham”, he said.
Ham, a rotund barrel of a man had given up wearing the traditional pinstripe of a true numbers man because the stripes staunchly refused to run in parallel, giving him the look of a three dimensional model of a landless planet. He was a man well endowed in latitude, but longitude, like pinstripes, was not his strong suit.
“I’d give prune juice a run” said Mr Ham, with the knowing wink of a man rich in the experience of being up that particular creek. D’arcy took him at his word and dispatched Miss Mirrorball to fetch for him a gallon of the finest prune juice, sparing no horse and at great haste.
Miss Mirrorball returned the very next day, breathless, with a flagon of vintage prune juice. D’arcy, as was his usual state, was in no mood for pleasantries. He took the vessel, thanklessly from Miss M and allowing no time for savoring the fine vintage, he downed the gallon without drawing breath. Moments passed.
D’arcy’s colour reddened. His front bench looked on expectantly and the Shadow Minister for death stares broke cover first. “Anything developing, Darse ?” she inquired.
“Geeeeeezzzzzzuuuussss!” shouted D’arcy and sped off in the direction of the porcelain plateau. A few more moments passed.
D’arcy staggered out of the disabled convenience door, looking haggard and wan. He paused, steadying himself and adjusting his trakky dax. “It nearly killed” me he said. I felt this blinding pain and in a flash, there it was, staring up at me, steaming, defiant, a fully-formed policy in the shape of Mr Morrison.
Ham pushed his way into the cubicle and stared downer, he squirted some Pyne O’clean into the bowl and pressed the flush and returned to the front bench.
“Impressed, Ham ?” said D’arcy.
“No, the paperwork wasn’t right. I had to turn that one around and send it back, D’arcy.”
26 Friday Jul 2013
Posted in Algernon, Entertainment Upstairs
Playlist by Algernon
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7cbkxn4G8U
Treaty – Yothu Yindi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CG-CNqOhO2c
Djapana – Yothu Yindi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ-hbpWlXNQ
Tribal Voice – Yothu Yindi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7TWJMO4k3k
Timeless Land – Yothu Yindi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8-YMpYbRqY
Wiyathul – Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-i0FQBbO8E
Djarimirri – Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKC-Jd7KN64
Bapa – Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhgDqY7_RGs
Gopuru – Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LerRV-CGeFU
Before too long – Paul Kelly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_ndC07C2qw
From Little things big things grow – Paul Kelly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWhj4sVeVD0
Dumb things – Paul Kelly and the coloured girls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXBGr-U5PIs
Rally round the drum – Paul Kelly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejorQVy3m8E
Beds are Burning – Midnight Oil
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ofrqm6-LCqs
Blue Sky Mining – Midnight Oil
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m3oYeVYdvg
Truganini – Midnight Oil
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSybR_k_Ouo
The Dead Heart – Midnight Oil
23 Tuesday Jul 2013
Posted in Susan Merrell
By Susan Merrell
And he sold our reputation, On the proceeds he will dine, In a land of golden plenty… Where just the dregs are mine.(With apologies to) Idris Davies
The bilateral PNG solution to Australia’s refugee problem is wrong on so many levels but I am going to address just one:
…from the point of view of Papua New Guinea
It is already well recognised that the agreement is a cynical and expensive exercise at vote grabbing by the desperate leader of an ailing Labor Party whose wresting of power from Julia Gillard at the eleventh hour requires him to pull a rabbit out of a hat.
And does Rudd care about the consequences for anyone other than himself, first, – the Labor Party, second – and Australia, third? I doubt it.
There are more people to consider: like the refugees (who have many people advocating, quite rightly, for them including the UN).
Then there’s PNG.
Here we have a nation battling to achieve modernity: struggling with the concept of democracy where pulling together over 800 discrete tribes into a nation is proving a challenge. Here’s a nation that achieved independence only 37 short years ago – some have mooted it was premature. Poverty is rife, as is governmental and institutional corruption.
The tortured transition to modernity combined with abject poverty and lack of government services has produced profound social problems, not least of which is violence against women. Indeed PNG is a recognised producer of refugees – most of them women fleeing domestic violence.
Add to that law and order problems and a population that have embraced a form of punitive and retributive Christianity that sees homosexuality and adultery still on the statute books and a population generally intolerant of religious difference.
Under the circumstances, it is a society hardly likely to take kindly to the special privileges that will be afforded refugees through Australian money – a better life than they could ever hope for. Can you blame them?
The main problem is not logistical, it’s ideological.
If you are going to say to the abused spouse that if he wishes to pursue Cinderella, he will be forced to marry the ugly sister – how must that make the sister feel?
PNGeans are not comfortable with the role of ugly sister, and neither they should be.
The whole idea of using the threat of living in PNG to deter refugees is repugnant. PNG is a nation struggling to maintain national pride through all of their profound problems, not helped when even the ‘touchy, feely’ Green Senator Milne, insensitively stated that Rudd’s solution surpassed even Abbott’s in cruelty to refugees.
When international headlines have labelled PNG as ‘Hell’, a ‘shithole’ and other equally pejorative terms, how does PNG maintain a vestige of national pride?
The cartoonist, Larry Pickering postulated that:
The only cost to O’Neill is that his country will now be known as a worse hell-hole than the world’s worst hell-holes.
It’s a price far too high!
In a land of poverty and strife where just existing is often difficult, O’Neill has sold cheaply one of the few things that PNGeans have to embrace and hold dear – their pride.
Gary Juffa, a new breed of Member of Parliament who is fiercely patriotic and who sits on the middle benches (ie neither government nor opposition) wrote:
…Australia is sending them [refugees] to a nation that is a developing nation with many issues of its own to contend with…in the international landscape, PNG is painted as a horrible place, IT IS NOT! I am saddened that my home is being used to deter people, scaremongering as it were…I welcome those who need help but what if they do not want “OUR” help? No body wants a hostile guest…
Introducing: Papua New Guinea’s number 1 citizen and signatory to the agreement
Independence in PNG brought into prominence an echelon of society that is venal, corrupt – and ruthlessly so. This stratum is the highest in the land. It is well understood in PNG that the only way to riches is through becoming a Member of Parliament where one can put one’s snout in the lucrative corruption trough. It is why there were close to 3000 candidates contesting 111 seats in the last election.
At the very highest of this echelon is the man who, last week, sold the reputation of PNG for ‘cargo’ (a concept well entrenched in PNG tradition): to achieve that which venal governments should easily have achieved long ago had they not stolen government funds:
He is Peter O’Neill, the Prime Minister of Papua New Guinea.
In the early ‘noughties’ O’Neill was embroiled and implicated in a corruption scandal that saw millions of dollars disappear from the coffers of the National Provident Fund.
Although he was named in the Commission of Inquiry (along with others,) no one was ever convicted of any offence – which is par for the course in PNG. Corruption is a low-risk business. O’Neill’s case did not even reach the courts but was dismissed through lack of evidence – evidence that was clearly extant during the Inquiry.
With half the annual budget regularly going missing to corruption, who knows how much of Rudd’s blood money will even reach its PNG target. The Australian Prime Minister’s desperation is making O’Neill’s negotiations like shooting fish in a barrel.
The agreement promises that PNG will have more control over aid monies, for instance, something for which O’Neill has been agitating since his inception as Prime Minister. That notwithstanding, the very reason that Australia stopped contributing aid to the general national budget was to give the politicians and public servants less control and thus to stop funds disappearing into well lined pockets.
A national disgrace
No nation can thrive without national pride.
Without national pride to cement civil society, Papua New Guinea’s problems are just poised to worsen.
When Kevin Rudd positioned PNG as the proverbial repulsive ugly sister, for the Prime Minister of Papua New Guinea to have, smilingly, agreed is nothing short of treason.
O’Neill should be in the business of nation building not nation (and soul) destroying.
Seven million Papua New Guineans are struggling to maintain their national pride against great social and economic odds. Take away pride and you take away the last vestiges of hope. How dare this Prime Minister?
This Judas got his 30 pieces of silver.
23 Tuesday Jul 2013
Posted in Poets Corner
Tags