Story by Emmjay
FM asked me the other day – when the air in Sydney was simply unbreathable, and water restrictions (albeit mild by national standards) had cut in and we were trying to save the garden with a few watering cans worth of the wet stuff – she asked whether I thought this might be the start of the end.
Now lest anyone think otherwise, FM is a pretty tough cookie. She grew up in Sydney’s western suburbs amongst a prototype generation that has now morphed into a tin plated underclass, with an industry specialty in random violence and petty crime. An excellent place from which to emigrate – as she did`.
I think FM’s question was prompted by the completely bonkers and human-hostile weather and the fact that there’s no rain in sight. And it’s everywhere. Look at the terrible fires in North and South America. People getting burnt out of their homes in the tens of thousands. And the rainforests of the Amazon and south east Asia more or less constantly on fire.
The ABC reported that the current fire season had dumped a gazillion tons of CO2 into the atmosphere equivalent to half of the usual national CO2 production.
Some of our patrons know that Emmlet 1 has a farm in NSW’s New England Tablelands. This is the first time the farm has run out of water in 130 years. FM and I are going up there for Christmas and I asked Emmlet 1 whether it would help if we brought up a few hundred litres of drinking water for the house. Just not wanting to be a burden on their family. She replied that it was a lovely thought but they buy in their water 10,000 litres at a time – by the tanker load.
More worrying is that the feed bill is currently $15,000 a week ! A BLOODY WEEK ! And she added that they will have to take the hard decision in the new year about selling off their breeding stock. I’m sure you can imagine what kind of catastrophe that must be for a farming family. When it eventually does rain. Assuming that rain will come some time – the prices of stock will go through the roof and farmers / graziers who sold at the bottom of the market will have to buy back at the top. Bloody cruel.
Emmlet 1 said that Australia will see a lot of small family farm holdings come onto the market as a result of not just the drought – but the breaking of the drought – and the only people with the cash to buy will be the big agribusiness companies.
I’m sure you can see what this means for our country and our rural people – consolidation of power in the hands of the few – the kind of outcome that has led to the plundering of the Murray Darling by monster cotton growing conglomerates. And this coupled with the gutless, nay just plain stupid politicians who are apologists for big business constitute a worsening crisis for the driest inhabited continent on Earth.
I really don’t know how to answer FM’s question. Is this the start of the end ? I have a sneaking suspicion that the numbers of happy clappers lining up behind Scomo to offer up prayers suggests that the possibility that humanity’s end game is warming up is an unspoken but widespread suspicion.
It’s a spooky feeling, is it not ? A bit like the passengers on the titanic – well aware that there were too few lifeboats rearranged the deck chairs and joined the band and chorus singing “Nearer my God to Thee”.
But, I suppose that this is taking far too short a view. It’s not an off a cliff catastrophic event like the meteorite strike that allegedly wiped out the dinosaurs. Maybe it’s more like the black death that wiped out a third of humanity at the time – a brutal, but admittedly effective way of pressing the reset button on an overpopulated planet.
I want to finish up on a more positive note than that, though. Is it not great news that so many Australians, in the face of the shittiest leadership in living memory – are doing the right thing by our country. Solar power and wind farms are actually putting downward pressure on coal prices. They are slowing demand ! Hurrah ! And there’s nothing that the coal loving Scummo can do about that. As solar and wind power becomes cheaper than coal and gas, we are arriving at the tipping point where digging up carbon makes no economic sense.
More good news is the increasing divestiture of investment in carbon by the massively cashed up super funds. And I read today on the ABC web site that the UN is pressuring the giant Siemens to stop buying coal from Adani. What a Christmas present for the world that would be.
As I rocket towards retirement, my fears for the future for my Emmlet and her 1.5 kids is a little bit allayed by the possibility of a slowing decline, by the actions of a new generation of activists – who have the power of the Internet at their fingertips and the support of a generation who cut their teeth on demonstrating in the 1960s. It’s not an overnight solution, but the drive and audacity of the young is a beacon for everyone.
FM and I want to wish all our dear friends at the Pig’s Arms greetings for the season and our sincere hopes for a fucking wet 2020.
Emmjay and FM.
For the Pet who has everything…
This year, Pig-Tel kicks off the Christmas spendfest with one of our all-time great pieces of completely useless shit..
The Pug-Tel automatic ball tosser – for the tosser who’s too lazy to bother throwing a ball for Rover / Rex / King / Rinty to fetch.
Yours for a modest $399 … batteries not included ….. solar powered model, complete with solar powered dog out soon. Free upgrades guaranteed.
Optional Petguard health insurance for the pooch who runs out before the batteries do…… just $39.99 per month*
*Covers 15% of your vet bills if you can come up with a sworn affidavit from a supreme court judge or QC.
Sadly, punters, this shit actually exists ! Kind off explains the last election result, doesn’t it….
Story and Post by Emmjay
OK, well, I have to admit that I personally cannot stand rap music – I hesitate to call it music at all – especially that misogynist shit, but this hip hop clip inspired me to look and listen to rap from a senior perspective.
It strikes me that the kind of rap coming out of black ghettos in the so called United States is every kind of bad. But I thought, maybe if the topic was not so much violence against gangsta hoes but a topic closer to senior sensibilities, we could be onto some kin d of connection that might drag the fans of Ray Coniff Orchestra and Geoff Harvey’s Big Band (the late great Geoff Harvey … or was it Jeff ?) into the 21st century.
So, for your pleasure, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Cultivation-Rap.
C-Rap for Gardeners. (language warning).
I hate them fuckin aphids
Fuckin aphids, fuck eh,
Me an my crew gunna fuckin squash dem to a pulp
Fucken aphids, fucken aphids yo
An dem dirty fucken snails is de worstest fucken bugs
We’s gunna salt dair fucken arses
An squash dair fucken mugs.
We gunna shovel on some cow shit
Ta make de roses grow but mainly coz it pisses off
the fucken neighbours, yo ep. ep. ep. yo.
The Latest from Pig-Tel Franchises. Get in at the Ground Level
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Bring your truck, muscles, a huuuuge and not too bright – but trainable – mate called Wayne or Bilal and your skills and knowledge of the midnight dumping industry …. And $15,000 in cash to the Pig-Tel Corporation Offices (in the rear of Rosies’ Tattoo Emporium and House of Pain – opposite from the Pig’s Arms and we’ll guarantee you a business opportunity that will never look back (not if it knows what’s good for it).
And remember our motto “Look, mug, if you had of paid the fucken rent, you wouldn’t be being chucked out on your arse…. Don’t give me that shit about you’ll be good on pension day… we’re past that, arsehole”.
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Story by Emmett
Big ? Yes, Foodge. Big, You know a bit about women’s health, don’t you ? A bit, yes, Foodge. What’s troubling you ?
It’s about Granny. What is it about Granny, Foodge ? Well, she’s not herself. In fact she’s, um, er, quite a lot crankier than she usually is.
Really ? Yes, and she, um, er, is a bit, you know, demanding – in an um , er, you know, wink wink kind of way. Just saying.
Go on. Well, she went on some kind of HRT thing and I’m a bit worried that something’s not quite right.
So how did that come about, Foodge ?
Well, she went to see her women’s business doctor and he gave her a bunch of hormone pills. And as I was saying, Big, she’s not been herself – but she does seem to be turning into some bloke she met at … you remember when Merv had that mixed marital arts competition in the tent in the carpark… it was after that. And he said that he could get her the hormone pills a lot cheaper than from the Cook’s River Compounding Pharmacy.
” I see” said Big. “And is she working out ?” Yes, I think so, I don’t reckon she’s got this way by eating wedges and tidying up the Farrowing Crate Merlot leftovers.
“No, I guess not” said Big
Dear Patrons de la Salle de Porc,
Most of the time I am overwhelmed by the massive global turd fest and the powerful drive to right wing governments all over the fucking world.
FM and I have stopped watching the news on TV especially – which is what Germans would have done in the 1930s – if TV had been invented then. But I imagine with no knowledge of the topic that the presses were already polluted by the shit purveyed by our very own export fascist Merdeoch.
Fortunately some dude with a suspiciously kiwi accent has assembled a montage of Ken Loach and Stuart Lee putting to the sword the exceptionally difficult “fucked if you do, fucked if you don’t” issue of Brexit.
There is a brief reference from the narrator about some of Ken Loach’s work – that bears further exploration.
There, my friends, go at it !
Lots of fond regards
Post by Emmjay
Hi FoPAs. (Friends of Pig’s Arms)
When I was kid in primary school and later (as it so often turns out) in high school and university, I became an avid reader of John Steinbeck’s short stories.
My favourite, I think was Cannery Row set in Monterey and written around Steinbeck’s best friend, the marine biologist John Ricketts. The story is so beautifully written that I swear the pages are redolent of the fish passing through the cannery.
I was blissfully unaware that Steinbeck won the Nobel Prize for literature, joining another of my favourite writers – Hemingway
I visited Monterey many years ago in search of my hero, but it was a rushed trip and I was heading for home, down the fabled Ventura Highway from San Francisco to Los Angeles and then flying back to Sydney. As the documentary says, Steinbeck is now a celebrated son of Salinas County but it was not always so. The good burghers of Salinas had a history of burning his books for the crime of describing the famers as exploiting their workers – the Mexican fruit pickers and Oakies fleeing the dustbowl of the south eastern states.
It was not uncommon for Republicans to describe Steinbeck as a communist and while he no doubt had leftist sympathies, I doubt that he was a card carrying comrade.
But Steinbeck is big tourist business nowadays and all is apparently forgiven.
I hope you have the time and inclination to watch the documentary – and enjoy it as much as I did.
regard the aphid
quietly massing to kill
the spring flush