Going to be a blistering hot day. I think Summer is finally here. At least for the next few days.
Ive bragged about the climate here. Bragged about the benign temps. As I complained about the floods and storms and winds.
Had a tree go down the other day…
A nice Acacia. Gong to be a bunch of good sticks in there. I’ll cut it all up and put it in storage for a few years. Dry it up then turn it into something cool, and useful.
Put a couple of neat, dense, iron hard old lumps of timber on my table yesterday… Ive got 2x sticks to make for my old friend, colleague and drinking buddy, The Hanging Judge of Gizo. I asked him if I make a standard “t” handle stick like a gentleman would use, or a shillelagh style stick like a thug would use. His answer was “yes please”. So he gets two.
These are hard, ancient, and shall be reasonably difficult to work. And the end result will be stunning.
What we see here is the remnant of an ancient tree. The floods eroded it out of its tomb. Now I get to whittle and wok and sand and shape.
These old, excavated hunks of hard wood are cool because they have been reduced to their bare core. All sap wood and soft wood that would rot and deteriorate is long gone. All that remains is hard, dense, condensed timber.
I see a couple amazing sticks here-in.
If you look closely you’ll see how the softer heart of the tree is long gone. This means I will need to cut thinner strips of wood and laminate them back into the shape I want. First though I will clean things up, start turning the whole thing into a composite by pouring a bunch of epoxy into and on the piece. I’ll zip tie all the loose bits tight, wrap and tape, mix and pour. Fill the voids with epoxy. Then cut it up and glue it all back together. Laminated sticks are insanely strong. The Judge is going to love both his sticks.
I have been saying lately “wood not war”.
I ordered a brand, the kind you heat and burn into. For my future sticks. It’ll state “whittled by mike”. Suggested recently by DB. Shoulda done this ages ago. I apologise to the folks Ive previously made unsigned sticks for.
Mendoza has a new friend… meet Seker.
All boys need a dog of their own. All dogs need a boy that is their own.
Like a post-apocalyptic sunrise, The Day After is slow and tired and a bit wobbly. Unsure, uneasy, even afraid.
The front room is trashed. The once beautiful tree now appears to have been mugged by a gang of San Fran street people. Wrappings, debris, and some presents, presents not for immediate play and destruction, litter the room.
The house smells of cinnamon and ham.
Its 840am. It is hot outside. 82f/ 28c. The sun is bright. The skies are blue. The wind is brisk and warm. It’s going to heat up soon. Going to push the mercury up. I think I’ll stay in with the aircon. Might even stay in my pyjamas all day.
As a grand-daddy (in my house I am a “Papa”) I very much enjoy the wild, frantic fun that unwrapping 1,289 gifts in less than 10minutes brings. Its is a race, a battle, a war… And, I do know what I am speaking of here… little girls cause more trouble grief tears noise and confusion that little boys. Boys just break stuff. Girls scream and holler and cry as they break stuff.
The 2yrold was wide-eyed and hyper. the 2x 7yrolds bouncing off the walls and ceilings. The 2x 9yrolds making noises and confusion commensurate with their size. It was like the cartoon of the Tasmanian devil. A moving tornado of destruction spinning around the room. I sat in a chair, smiling, watching.
I made the “usual” Cmas breakfast of cinnamon rolls. I started midday – the day before – in order to allow my flour to rise and be fluffy and rich. I knead and rise 3 full times. I like to allow the dough to be the best it can be. I had cut and put the rolls in their pans in the eve. At 4am I popped them in the oven. Everyone wakes to that glorious smell of fresh baked goodness…
The house we live in is good for old granddaddies, Papas like me. The downstairs is big, the walls are concrete, the TV fixed to the wall, the floor carpeted, and I can chase the little ones down stairs, close the door and keep the noise from encroaching into my upstairs living area. I also growl and bark when they get too close. Doesn’t do much good though.
We had a family meeting to discuss what and where. Our’s is a family with a Family Business.
I started the biz in 1987.
After the better part of 40years we’re still going good, have expanded in a couple fields, have a bunch of things going on – all the time – thus an annual meeting is good, needed, required. Im pleased and proud my 2nd generation is doing so, so good.
As a kid growing up in a big family I learned early on that Cmas was not about presents. And thats OK but… BUT… presents are good.
The day before Christmas and all through the house, everyone was sniffling, and coughing, sick with the flu…
So it’s 834am and Im preparing for all n everything and everyone at once… when they get here.
The flu-bug has grabbed everyone. Varying degrees and varying levels of flu-eyness. Someone said “maybe its Covid”… my response was “isn’t Covid the flu?”.
It’s funny that a single word “covid” can supposedly mean sooo much. From lock downs and threats of a lonely death and countries and states closed, cities darkened, people living locked-in, afraid, fearful, longing to see family and friend that were similarly locked down… To… yea, covid is just the flu.
I always called covid the Kung-Flu. I got in trouble a couple times for spreading false info. But, now, after a couple years, we learn that I was right. Though they “THEY” will never fess-up, it did come out of the Wuhan lab where the studies therein were funded by the US… and get this… because the research on “gain of function” was too dangerous to carry out in the US.
Thanks a bunch Obama, Fauci and Co.
Looking forward, into a bright, new, glittering future… well, in the US…
We get 6million+ new emigrants in 2023, a State called CA that legalises criminal behaviour and taxes law abiding citizens into leaving, and a NY City Mayor that blames the border crisis on the TX Governor.
Here in Aus… we get a jet setting PM that spends .001% of GDP on travel, two – count them- TWO State Premiers resign because they have doing “such a great job”, and the globe’s primary store of land locked energy being traded away so we can “go green”… noting energy prices have doubled in recent years. And I just bought a new, bigger genset for then next power-outage…
In the Solos… Our dear, great, all seeing leader (he is turning Chinese) has postponed the last election so he could host the Pacific Mini Olympics, has (with the help of friends) made use of millions of dollars for personal enrichment, while (I hear) many, many of the service providers to the Games will not get paid what they are owed. Word is the budget is shot. No moa saleni. Sore hola, boko!
So, with all the good news out of the way allow me to discuss the darker, sadder side of things…
The indigenous people of the “Middle East”, The Palestinians, have been attacked and killed in the thousands, by their loathsome and terrible neighbours, The Zionists.
The poor Palestinians have been quietly leading their lives as nomads and shepherds and loving family members since the dawn of time. Never causing a problem, always humble and respectful. Their dearly departed prophet and 20th century leader, Yasser Arafat (much loved and adored by all), established the path of enlightened resistance and peaceful struggle. In his footsteps they walk…
His efforts have been trampled upon by the vile Zionists… Zionists who rape, plunder, murder, enslave and worse…
Oh, what’s that… OK, you sure… Hmmm… Ive got it wrong? Other way around…
How can that be? I heard it all on CNN!
Closer to home… Premier Xi supposedly told Saintly Uncle Joe that he was indeed going to “unify” China. What that means is he grabs Taiwan by force. Just what we need! Another expansionist war.
We have kinda forgotten about Ukraine. Not much in the bluez anymore. The atrocities of the Zionist Colonials and Trump on trial is better cover than Russia v Ukraine.
Yes, shall we note that that despicable undemocratic, would be tyrant DJTrump is getting his just-desserts… after being terrible and red for too long, he shall go down. The system shall mobilise all its resources so he, the evil red guy, cannot ever again threaten our US democracy.
Even at the risk of bringing the US democracy down, even by forgetting the rules and ethics of it all, the status quo of evil red guy must die is worth what ever to costs.
Oh, again, CNN is wrong? No, cant be… What, the US legal system, as driven by saintly Uncle Joe, is being used like a secret police force? Targeting individuals and groups for being too smart, too wise, too democratic… hmmm, damn! I hate being wrong!
So I’ll ignore the facts and merrily move on.
Red guy bad, Saintly Uncle Joe and Fauci good.
So where are we, really?
Normally I can be found, this time of year on a mower…
A few months back a rather distant neighbour rang, asked if Id seen “a red cow”.
And I had. A smallish “Drought Master”. A good looking beast.
Was hanging around, following the herd of another neighbour. But was skittish to the point of being wild.
My first response to a stray cow on my property is always, and all ways, to secure it. Get it in a fenced area. Keep it secure. Figure out what is what after.
This one was too skittish to get close to. I tried herding it. Bribing it with nice green hay. It ran off, as swift as a deer.
Time passes.
I name the cow “Ruby”. Ruby has run off the property. Is well fed. Well watered. Looks great.
Ruby joins the herd of deer. The deer (two herds of deer) call this valley home.
My distant neighbour isn’t fussed about his missing cow…
I dont bother myself with the wild deer, so the wild cow, that identifies as a deer, receives the same respect.
I’m going to sing the praises of the weather where I live, here in Aus, on what is known as “The Sunshine Coast”. North of Brisbane, subtropical, and probably as good of a climate as I have ever experienced. Between the droughts and the floods and the hail and the fires… between it all, the blistering hot days to the mild n chilly morns, we have the best climate I know…
Ruminating as the World Spins…
I am perplexed by much. Confused by what I hear. Frightened by what I see. I need help to figger things out. Is it all as fucked up as I perceive? I sure as shit hope not!
In the world of politics, I fear that rhetoric is replacing policy. Or maybe, maybe, rhetoric HAS replaced policy. I dont see debates on policy anymore. Both sides say the same thing, from a different perspective. I see very little honest debate, and way too much BS name calling. Mud slinging.
World wide I see words and ideas and back-room deals getting weaker, stupider, less meaningful. From infrastructure to education to public safety to national security to… you get the idea. I do feel that rhetoric is replacing policy. Solid, long term, well thought out policy and planning may well be gone. But words, hallow, meaningless words fill the air…
Memes, bumper stickers, slogans… become policy… and it kinda frightens me…
A mindless mob frightens me…
“Defund The Police” is not policy. Lowering requirements in The Military or in Schools, is not policy. Opening the borders, flooding the US with homeless folks is not policy. Paying for the care and upkeep of said homeless folks is not policy. It is all rhetoric. Political ideas. Political rhetoric.
Has the entire population, world wide, been dumbed-down so severely that we have lost our knowledge of right and wrong. Our sense of history. Why we are, where we are, and who brought us to where we are? Or is history being rewritten? Instead of a “melting pot” we get division by skin colour, ethnicity, claimed gender, and more… Drugs are illegal, so we build injection rooms, hand out free needles. Damn!
I say DAMN!
Words n promises replace well planned outcomes.
History is filled with war, strife, starvation, confusion, pain, agony; and recovery from all, again and again. It was never “a good life”. An easy life.
“Life Ain’t Fair”, is what I have been taught.
I come from a long line of emigrants. A long line of peasants. A long line of down-trodden. They did not leave “where they were from” and move to “somewhere else” because they had a choice. It was because of war, strive, starvation, pestilence…. “Home” was not liveable any more, so they had to move, for what ever reason. My ancestors that emigrated to the US were refugees too. Not colonials.
Consider the Irish… they colonised the world as refugees.
And in the places all these folks, over all the ages, emigrated to, they found people already there. Everywhere always had someone who claimed the place as their own. All folks “came from somewhere”, looking for “something better”, displacing those who had come before them.
And became the indigenous peoples of that place.
So, the new folks arrive and there is conflict. There is always and all ways conflict.
He with the best weapons wins. Writes the history.
One of my sorta favourite “dumb-shit” ideas is this: “The Noble Savage”. So the myth goes…
Before the perfectly harmonious lifestyles of the numerous “indigenous” peoples of the world were disrupted and polluted by “white-men”, “colonials” – before the noble savage was converted, perverted by “white-men”, “colonials”… everything was great. Idyllic. Peaceful.
What a CROCK-O-SHIT! Aboriginal societies were and are harsh, ruthless, violent and hungry. If you were not part of the tribe you got killed and probably eaten. I do speak from a little bit of history or experience… my wife’s people are an old language group from a very isolated part of an isolated island group. Her maternal grandfather, Kapakesa, was a feared warrior, a taker of heads, an eater of flesh. He had many wives. My mother in law, Flory, was his daughter.
I spent a-bunch-a years sitting with the old men, smoking greasy black tobacco and drinking sweet, sweet tea. Listening through the haze and smoke and darkness. They’d recited their oral histories. The oral tradition was alive, still, then.
We’d sit around a kerosene lamp, roll long, thick, greasy smokes, and listen to Boaz, or one of the other elders, recite his oral history. Boaz, my father in law, would tell his tales, spin his magic, almost every night. I listened night after night, for a number of years. Always enthralled by his precision and faithfulness to “The Story”. And amazed by the viciousness and brutality of his history. It was all very very violent and brutal.
Boaz was born around 1900. “First Contact” between aboriginal peoples on the north coast of Choiseul and the “Men From Ships” – bose vaka , in local language – was 1910. Boaz was born into a Stone Age culture with over 20,000 years of history. His oral tradition covered 13 generations. Before the oral tradition, we find myth and legends.
When we buried Boaz, we buried his oral tradition with him. His tales of wars and rape and murder and betrayal. His knowledge of the past, his deep, deep knowledge of his history. His sons and daughters do not possess the oral tradition.
Their links to, handles on the past are lost. They have some of the history, but their knowledge is incomplete, faulty, flawed. Its nothing new…
I like the story of Fiji being “Colonised”… The Paramount Chief of the time, the Tui Viti, was getting his arse kicked by all sides… The Tongans and the iKiribati bikers-on-boats were raping and pillaging the north and west coast lines. Internal tribal wars raged. it was hard to be Tui Viti, it was costly… Times were changing, weapons were changing, travel was changing, people were coming from afar. They had guns. Fijians normally used clubs. Club v Gun was not cool. Guns cost money…
So the Tui Viti, RatuSeru Epenisa Cakobau, petitioned the UK to colonise Fiji, to protect Fijians from outsiders, and insiders too. Basically he wanted his position of advantage to be protected. In 1852 this request was declined. Nope, no colonising at that time. The UK refused to be evil, nasty, colonisers. Go figure.
Then in 1871, a deal was stuck. Fiji voluntarily became a Colony of Great Britain. And the Tui Viti kept his job. (and his head)
Synopsis: The Colonisation of Fiji was and inside-job.
Dont teach that is school, do they?
Still ruminating as the World Spins…
I remain perplexed by much. Confused by what I hear. Frightened by what I see. I still need help to figger things out. It do look fucked up!
November 24th, a Friday here in Aus. If I was in the US0fA it’d be Thanksgiving Thursday.
Here, in the land of Aus it’s a drizzlly, overcast, chilly morning.
I am ruminating, again, on the “Green” world we supposedly live in, are moving toward. Of course, nothing new, but my take on it all is that “green is not green”. It is a marketing ploy that has been doing pretty good at convincing the world that slight of a green hand = wealth distribution.
Or such is my semi-literate take on it all… I’m not saying I definitely know the Global Warming gig is a scam. I am saying that I remain unconvinced, on many levels, that we have this all sorted, under control, and the $$ being invested is wisely spent.
I am on this topic due to a visit from an old friend. My dear Kiwi friend spent time as a volunteer on Vella la Vella. We met on the MV Iu Mi Nao in 1984. I checked but cannot find a decent pict of the old, clapped out ferry, that was old and clapped out when it arrived in the Solomons in the 1970s. I am certain all my faithful readers that experienced the Iu Mi Nao hold fond memories of the “30 hour cruise” that was the weekly Honiara to Gizo run.
When we met, my Kiwi friend and I were both young, green, learning, full of useless education, and totally “liberal”. We shared views and points of view… we both married “island babes”, loved boats and the ocean and being on and in the briny-blue. We have been friends since we met.
One of the rare people that visited while living at Gracie’s village on the very remote, north side of Choiseul, we did a multi-day crossing between North Choiseul and Liapari… in a “fibro-canoe”, loaded to the gills, powered by a 9.9hp OBM. We crossed a lot of water in a small, under powered vessel. We were both lucky, stupid, ignorant, and on that trip very lucky… did I say lucky?
So after a few decades he stops by for a visit. And the fun (fun?) began… My dear old friend decided I needed to be converted into the green-new-world. The Green New World of electric vehicles, solar power, no fossil fuels, zero carbon emissions, higher cost of living. I am told to “think of your grandchildren, what sort of world are you going to leave them?” I needed to read periodicals such as The Economist, The Guardian, The NY Times. Like a proselytiser, preaching the gospel of green, I needed my demons released, converted, defeated.
After dinner, day 1, as I voiced my unconvinced position, I was offered “IRREFUTABLE FACTS” that Global Warming was killing the planet”. CO2 was the devil. Climate Change was a big problem, was real, man-made, immediate, and reversible IF…
The next day when I asked for the irrefutable facts I was told to “look them up yourself”.
Ok, brakes on, old friendships intact, respect given and taken but… when someone first says they “have the facts”, then tell me to “look them up myself”, I stop taking it all seriously. I listened politely (over 3days), always read (try to read) what ever is suggested, and have fun simply playing the devils advocate. We’re not going to solve anything or agree on much so why get yer knickers in a twist? Have fun. Might even learn something new…
Allow me to articulate the discussion(s) without emotion – er, well, with as little emotion as possible.
I start with the premise as purported/ preached by the advocates and acolytes of the green-dream…
1) The Globe is warming.
2) Global warming is man-made, that is to say the harm, the damage, the warming is anthropogenic.
3) The anthropogenic actions causing the Global warming are emissions of CO2 into the atmosphere.
4) The CO2 emitted is due to the burning of carbon based fuels such as coal, gasoline, diesel, natural gas, wood, peat, or other “fossil fuels”.
5) IF we cease the burning of said fuels, we can reverse the trends of death and destruction and doom.
6) IF we do not reverse the trends of burning said fuels, we shall all perish. Very soon.
Ok, so the future is bleak. Mankind has been shitting in its own nest too long, and IF we dont change our ways the end is coming, predictable, close at hand.
The task at hand is to forsake the fuels that have taken mankind from darkness, the fuels that were the foundation of the industrial revolution, the urbanisation of the world, the creation of mass travel… Cease all carbon based fuel burning and we shall survive, thrive, exist… Its called “Net ZERO”.
As near as I can tell, that’s the main “WORD” of the Green gospel.
Where do I stand in relation to it all?
As a centrist I claim I look at all sides of all debates. And my several years of “study”on this topic leaves me unconvinced that the Pro-Green arguments hold much water. Mainly because the ire predictions have mostly been full of BS. For me, the problem has not been adequately identified, is there even a real problem? As well, no cost effective and viable solution has been tabled. No replacement to Fossil Fuels has been established. Decades of discussion on hydrogen power cells, massive batteries, magic wands… nothing to convince me… YET… it is always “yet”… and IF… IF…
So I read, research, think, listen, watch…
My research methods are simple: First and foremost I disregard, dispose of any info I consider to be blatantly sensationalistic… things like: “We all Die in 7years IF we don’t change now”…. Recently we saw: “Donald Trump poses the biggest danger to the world in 2024”
from 2014: Apocalypse Now: The World Will Definitely End In 7 YearsThe World Is Going To End Within 7 Years, Says Newspaper That Often Predicts ApocalypseRyan Barrell— The Huffington Post UK 26/11/2014 11:51am GMT
There are more headlines like these. Left and Right. Sensational, impossible to refute or prove. Rhetorical headlines that do not inform, do not education. Intended to frighten the population, to scare and herd the bovines and sheep.
And because I grabbed one from 2014, I’ll check and see what the cost of the Green-Deal so far has been…
Damn, I cant get a reliable number. My searches send me to propagandistic sites and reports that explain how good we are doing, using nice graphs and charts, showing progress, aiming for those elusive “net zero” results. I find nothing that can give me a sense of how much has been spent. A quantum, a value, a number. Either it’s not available or, perhaps has been conveniently misplaced?
How much has the NET ZERO target cost thus far? What will the total cost be?
It is undoubtedly in the Billions. Maybe even in the trillions?
Because these numbers, the numeric information supporting the Green-Dream is so elusive, I remain unconvinced.
I happen to have some old files at hand, let me see what is costing…
In March 2019 power here cost: *general use cost = .255/kWh *supply charge = .99/pday * solar metering charge = .07/pday * feed-in credit = .106/kWh
In November 2023 power here cost *general use cost = .320430/kWh *supply charge = .1.339910/pday * solar metering charge = .085260/pday * feed-in credit = ..0500/kWh
Here is what I see over 4+years:
2019
2023
change +/-
value of change
general use
0.255
0.32043
30%
0.06543
supply charge
0.99
1.33991
35%
0.34991
metering charge
0.07
0.08526
20%
0.01526
feed in credit
0.106
0.05
50%
0.056
What I glean from this is that costs are going up. The consumer is paying more for the Green future. Base rate is up. Feed-in credit down. Dreaming Green thus far appears to be a negative for the consumer.
I need to point out, confess that for bean-counting reasons I have used domestic PV systems for many years. Decades even. I know when a PV system is a cost saver, and when it is not. The reason I have invested in PV here in Aus is because it is heavily subsidised.
So, being unconvinced that a) we have defined the problem, or b) we have established a solution, I cannot think that spending mega-bucks does much but cost everyone more, on every thing.
Has the $$ spent on this green-dream changed anything? CO2 emissions, as near as I can tell, will never be ZERO. Not with coal use skyrocketing in China and India … these two countries represent over 60% of all global coal use. Australia represents only 1.5% of global consumption. Does Aus pushing for net ZERO do anything at all, globally? The rhetoric does not make sense to me. I remain unconvinced…
Sunday morn here. A blood-sports morning. Skies are overcast. Forecast is a number of days of rain.
I am becoming a bit concerned about the world in general, and people near and dear specifically. Like so many topics (BLM, open borders, nuclear power) folks grab a bumper-sticker slogan and chant as one mindless crowd… “river to the sea”… “no nukes”… “black lives matter”… “defund the police”…
I guess it is easy to be mindless in a crowd. Be a bovine following the herd. Can you say “mooooo”?
Even really smart folks I admire greatly, are falling into the pack mentality. Nothing new, I know, but golly-gee, when we all gonna learn that we’re having our strings pulled?
I am and shall fight to remain a centrist. I’m in the middle, often ill-informed, striving to make sense of what I see happening. I solve my informational inadequacies by reading. (yep, call me ol fashioned) We have soo much info available that it is shameful, if not criminal to be ill-informed. Do the research, do the reading, form your own thoughts, ideas and position. Be articulate, know your subject, have facts, then construct your informed foundation. Dont set all in stone. Be limber, nimble and flexible. Positions can change. Never stop building your informational foundation. Never stop learning…
I do not like “listening” to folks telling me what and where. I dont get my information through Utube or talking-heads. It is far too easy to simply listen and parrot what we hear. I prefer to work, to read, to feel as though I learned something. The old line was “read until it hurts”.
I’ll do the research and publish my simple findings, because a) I need to figure out my own thoughts and position, and b) believe that sharing my work may (may not) be of assistance to others.
I like the idea that some folks immediately decide that instead of me just being “wrong”, I am a bad person. A racist, a colonial, a selfish old white-man. Nothing new here. We all know, learned in 1st grade, that those who cant think and speak intelligently shall think and speak unintelligently. Nothing new at all.
In one of our recent incarnations of insanity, we see the Middle East on fire. And, predictably, we see the teams being selected, the lines being drawn, the slogans and bumper stickers resurrected. Violence begets violence. My team is right, is honourable, so my violence is justified. Your team is wrong, is dishonourable, so my violence is doubly justified.
Of course it is easy to label The Zionists as bad and their actions as atrocities.
Of course it is easy to label the Palestinians as bad and their actions as atrocities.
Are not all acts of war atrocities?
So, Russia and the Ukraine have been committing atrocities for many months, and we kinda just watch.
The Sharia world commits atrocities daily, multiple atrocities daily, and we kinda just watch.
A child going hungry in Florida is as much an atrocity of a child going hungry in Somalia, no?
I am both amused and appalled when we end up where we defend the Palestinian peoples as “indigenous”, or “native”, and thus claiming more virtue, or more sympathy. The Zionists are “colonials”, usurpers, thus claiming less virtue, less sympathy.
Then we get the “what about the dead babies”… “you cant be soooo heartless to ignore the dead babies”…
Which dead babies? The dead babies of the old testament/ passover? The dead babies of the Roman Empire? The dead babies of the Crusades? The dead babies of the Ottoman Empire? The dead babies from the Holocaust. The dead babies from the October 7th massacre of jews by Hamas soldiers? The dead babies buried under the ruble of Gaza?
I have spent my life traveling, moving, building, emigrating, shifting into and through multiple cultures, languages, life styles and laws. And as near as I can tell, no single place or culture is “right”, has moral advantage, is the best, better. We are all peoples with prejudices, fears, desires, needs, wants… we all share and possess ethnocentricity and foibles. No one is right. No one religion, no one system of governance, no one legal system, no one language… we are all, as near as my centrist position allows me to see, we are all flawed.
Sure, it’s OK to join a team. To feel affinity because of colour of skin or language or religion. But being mindful is better than being mindless… As we have seen… chanting stupid shit like “rive to the sea” is, in my mind, the same as saying “your mother wears army boots”…
Funny side-thought… “your Mother Wears Army Boots” is saying “you mother is a whore”… she got the boots by bonking soldiers, and in a time and place where foot wear was at a premium, a good pair of boots was probably well worth a bonk.
“River To The Sea” is the same as saying “Death To All Jews”.
I know there are folks out there that will argue with me per this but, sorry, you are wrong if you think its just a fun slogan, or as one braindead-bitch said “its a camp fire song”. You are wrong. Every time “river to the sea” is chanted we are advocating death to ALL Jews.
Like “lynch the niggers”, or “only good injun is a dead injun”… Put that in your pipe n smoke it, next time your out cheating “river to the sea”…
It saddens me when folks I respect dont have their brains turned on, when they join the herd, follow the crowd… say “moooooo”…
It saddens me greatly…
In ending: I posted this before but will explain it a bit more carefully…
In the 1st century, the region known as Palestine had 1.25million residents, the majority of which were Jews. by 15th century (1500 years later) the population was 1.56million residents, 1.45mil being Muslim and 5000 only being Jews. Where did the million+ Jews go? Where did the million+ Muslims come from?
Oh my name it ain’t nothin’ My age it means less The country I come from Is called the Midwest I was taught and brought up there The laws to abide And that land that I live in Has God on its side
Oh, the history books tell it They tell it so well The cavalries charged The Indians fell The cavalries charged The Indians died Oh, the country was young With God on its side
The Spanish-American War had its day And the Civil War, too Was soon laid away And the names of the heroes I was made to memorize With guns in their hands And God on their side
The First World War, boys It came and it went The reason for fighting I never did get But I learned to accept it Accept it with pride For you don’t count the dead When God’s on your side
The Second World War Came to an end We forgave the Germans And then we were friends Though they murdered six million In the ovens they fried The Germans now, too Have God on their side
I’ve learned to hate the Russians All through my whole life If another war comes It’s them we must fight To hate them and fear them To run and to hide And accept it all bravely With God on my side
But now we got weapons Of chemical dust If fire them, we’re forced to Then fire, them we must One push of the button And a shot the world wide And you never ask questions When God’s on your side
Through many a dark hour I’ve been thinkin’ about this That Jesus Christ was Betrayed by a kiss But I can’t think for you You’ll have to decide Whether Judas Iscariot Had God on his side.
So now as I’m leavin’ I’m weary as Hell The confusion I’m feelin’ Ain’t no tongue can tell The words fill my head And fall to the floor That if God’s on our side He’ll stop the next war
Had a few-day visit from very old friends/ family, Brenda and Nick Makin…
We first met in the heady/ fun days of Gizo in the mid 1980s. So, a few decades later we find ourselves together again, sharing, playing, enjoying each other…
As an “international” kinda guy, old friends that are STILL traveling, adventurous, on the road, flying high… are very good to have.
The Squire Hisself…
Ms Bren…
It was great, good, fantastic… and after a long weekend resting up, I am still exhausted.
Nick got to see the Glass House Mountains from our private viewing spot…
Saturday morn here. I was up at 4am. Had to drop my Pet-Teen off at the airport. Here in QLD, this time of year, it’s easy to get up early. It’s light outside by 5am.
Got a lot to do but am sitting wrapped up. A chilled southerly wind blows. it is dry and crisp. No moisture in the air.
I am thinking about the word-use I am hearing, have been hearing for a long time. And I am thinking that definitions are important.
Of course, in recent times, the cry of “RACIST”, has been loud and constant. Here in Aus you shall be called “racist” if you voted “NO” in the recent referendum. In the USofA, the moniker of “racist” is used to silence, frighten, end any discussion on almost any topic… You support The Donald, and you’ll be called racist. You disagree with open boarders, you’ll be called racist.
The word I am hearing this morning, THE WORD that was on the radio as I drove, and as I read an listen to “de-newz” is “Genocide.
The genocide taking place in Israel/ Palestine…
So, as I was driving this morn, ruminating on it all, I think about the use of the word and the effects of the word being used…
First: Genocide noun: genocide; plural noun: genocides the deliberate killing of a large number of people from a particular nation or ethnic group with the aim of destroying that nation or group. “a campaign of genocide”
OK, in this context, the word “genocide means Israel has been carrying out a plan of deliberate killing of a large number of Palestinian Arabs.
So, by 1947 there were 630,000 Jews, 143,000 Christians, and 1,181,000 Muslims in Israel/ Palestine.
Modern era demographics of Israel, Israelis, and Palestinian territories show us that: As of 2014, Israeli and Palestinian statistics for the overall numbers of Jews and Arabs in the area west of the Jordan, inclusive of Israel and the Palestinian territories, are similar and suggest a rough parity in the two populations. Palestinian statistics estimate 6.1 million Palestinians for that area, while Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics estimates 6.2 million Jews living in sovereign Israel. Gaza is estimated by the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) to have 1.7 million, and the West Bank 2.8 million Palestinians, while Israel proper has 1.7 million Arab citizens. According to Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics, as of May 2006, of Israel’s 7 million people, 77% were Jews, 18.5% Arabs, and 4.3% “others”. Among Jews, 68% were Sabras (Israeli-born), mostly second- or third-generation Israelis, and the rest are olim – 22% from Europe and the Americas, and 10% from Asia and Africa, including the Arab countries.
According to these Israeli and Palestinian estimates, the population in Israel and the Palestinian territories stands at from 6.1 to 6.2 million Palestinians and 6.1 million Jews.
OK, so by 1947 there were 630,000 Jews, 143,000 Christians, and 1,181,000 Muslims in Israel/ Palestine.
By 2014 there were 6,100,000 Jews, and 6,100,000 Muslims in Israel/ Palestine.
Of course, numbers are numbers are numbers. But I do not, DO NOT, see genocide taking place.
The Ottoman Empire, historically and colloquially known as the Turkish Empire, was an empire that controlled much of Southeast Europe, West Asia, and North Africa between the 14th and early 20th centuries. The empire also controlled an eastern region of Central Europe from the 16th to the late 17th century.
I like this map because it shows us the dissolution of the Ottomans through the 1800s. As the empire dissolved, lands that had been ruled by the Ottomans for centuries were claimed, divided, held, bartered and sold to the victors of various wars. Confusion and strife accompanied the changes. The peoples in those lands, say Greece, had no say, no democratic vote as per who or what would rules their lives after the Ottomans.
I use Greece because I have some knowledge here… My mother’s people are Greek. My maternal grandmother, Vera, came from Samos. Her people were refugees from the progroms against Greek speaking people in what is now Turkey. Their’s is a sad story of loss, death, survival. I am glad Vera did survive. I have named a granddaughter Vera.
My maternal Grandfather fought in the Greco-Turkish wars…
The Greek campaign was launched primarily because the western Allies, particularly British Prime Minister David Lloyd George, had promised Greece territorial gains at the expense of the Ottoman Empire, recently defeated in World War I. Greek claims stemmed from the fact that Anatolia had been part of Ancient Greece and the Byzantine Empire before the Turks conquered the area in the 12th-15th centuries. The armed conflict started when the Greek forces landed in Smyrna (now İzmir), on 15 May 1919. They advanced inland and took control of the western and northwestern part of Anatolia, including the cities of Manisa, Balıkesir, Aydın, Kütahya, Bursa, and Eskişehir. Their advance was checked by Turkish forces at the Battle of the Sakarya in 1921. The Greek front collapsed with the Turkish counter-attack in August 1922, and the war effectively ended with the recapture of Smyrna by Turkish forces and the great fire of Smyrna.
So, this tells me is that, after WW1, the Greeks were encouraged to wage war against the dead/ dying empire that had subjugate them for centuries. As were other peoples in other places. The Masters of War had unleashed hounds to ravage and harass what was left of the Ottomans.
Basically, the dead empire was being divided up by the victors. Often with force. Like hounds fighting over scraps the Masters of War did not want.
The “winners” of the war got first pick of the flesh still hanging off the bones of the Ottoman Empire. Some places are/ were more desirable than others.
The Suez Canal was/ is terribly important. It was claimed very early on in the proceedings as an asset belonging to the Masters… I note the subsequent fighting/ waring that has taken place in dispute of the Suez Canal.
I note that Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Syria, and Palestine were big bones on the Ottoman carcass.
All but Palestine appear to be coveted, wanted, desired. Jerusalem was important but Palestine, rich in history, had few resources. No oil, no water, occupied by nomadic, Arabic speaking tribes. Much less coveted than, say Bagdad or Damascus.
The masters of war had made many promises to many people… keeping the promises proved impossible.
During World War I the great powers made a number of decisions concerning the future of Palestine without much regard to the wishes of the indigenous inhabitants. Palestinian Arabs, however, believed that Great Britain had promised them independence in the Ḥusayn-McMahon correspondence, an exchange of letters from July 1915 to March 1916 between Sir Henry McMahon, British high commissioner in Egypt, and Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī, then emir of Mecca, in which the British made certain commitments to the Arabs in return for their support against the Ottomans during the war. Yet by May 1916 Great Britain, France, and Russia had reached an agreement (the Sykes-Picot Agreement) according to which, inter alia, the bulk of Palestine was to be internationalized. Further complicating the situation, in November 1917 Arthur Balfour, the British secretary of state for foreign affairs, addressed a letter to Lord Lionel Walter Rothschild (the Balfour Declaration) expressing sympathy for the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people on the understanding that “nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine.” This declaration did not come about through an act of generosity or stirrings of conscience over the bitter fate of the Jewish people. It was meant, in part, to prompt American Jews to exercise their influence in moving the United States to support British postwar policies as well as to encourage Russian Jews to keep their nation fighting.
Today is Tuesday, 17th of October. On the 14th a referendum was held here in Aus. A referendum to “enshrine” an Aboriginal Voice in Parliament.
What is a referendum?
In Australia, referendums are public votes held on important issues where the electorate may approve or reject a certain proposal. The term is commonly used in reference to a constitutional referendum which is legally required to make a change to the Constitution of Australia. (Wikipedia)
A single question: “A Proposed Law: to alter the Constitution to recognise the First Peoples of Australia by establishing an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice.Do you approve this proposed alteration?”
I shall not carry on about how or why the vote ended up as it did. I shall, though, discuss my thoughts and emotions…
Since the beginning of the “Voice” initiative, the facts per who, what, how, where, when, how much have been sparse to nonexistent.
Though, initially, seen as a fine and noble idea; constitutional recognition of the aboriginal peoples, no one was able to explain the details. The lack of detail is what made the idea questionable.
As well, there was a fair bit of mud-slinging. By both sides. By activist-minded supporters who said to vote against was to prove you were racist. To vote against was to prove you were stupid… to vote in favour was to prove you were racist. To vote in favour was to prove you were stupid.
Golly, it’s 2nd week October, and I am way behind.
Way behind on numerous fronts…
I am thinking that this is a by-product of being very busy and getting heaps, and heaps done, competed, accomplished. And, also, being bone tired, leg-weary each day, And sleeping like a log .
It is all good.
Today, this morn, is a wrap in the blanket and watch blood-sport Sunday. I am cooking a big pot of beans and a couple nice racks of ribs. Son, Don, has been visiting; pet-teen, Mendoza is around (somewhere), Big G will stop by later.
The coffee is good, the house is open, the air is crisp, the sky is overcast with a scent of rain, a promise of some moisture.
And, as I sit, ruminate, watch, study the goings-on around me, I scratch my head. I find that, as I age, I spend more and more time just simply scratching my head in wonderment…
We have “The Voice to Parliament” vote, here in the land of Aus. This is a move to change the constitution and “enshrine” an “indigenous” voice in Parliament. What it will be, how it will work, who it will include is confused. No answers have been given, just vague, feel-good ideas of how a VOICE will end early child mortality, increase longevity, and solve all the social problems of the class of folks here down-under, that suffer the most – but have the most spent on them.
I won’t chase the numbers but, a quick look and we find:
On a per person basis, government welfare expenditure was $13,968 per Indigenous Australian, compared with $6,019 per non-Indigenous Australian in 2012–13—this equates to expenditure of $2.32 per Indigenous person for every $1.00 spent per non-Indigenous person.15 Aug 2023
So, this referendum is aiming to solve all the problems, SOCIAL, FINANCIAL, PERSONAL, MEDICAL, EDUCATIONAL… all the problems…
Yea, right… I see shams like this as nothing more than wealth distribution programmes designed to buy votes.
In the US I watch as the might, the weight, the strength and resources of the central government are used to silence, stall, stop, censor a political foe… The Donald is simply too loud, too wealthy, too autonomous for the powers that be, I am not speaking of blue v red. It is the weight and power of both main political structures that is being levied against The Donald. He threatens all and everyone.
And I must say, I agree when DT says he is fighting this battle for the people, to ensure the powers of the central government are not gratuitously used against the common-man.
I am incessantly confused and amazed when smart folks I know think it’s fine for DT to be roasted by the corrupt powers that control. They think DT deserves it, should rot forever in a dark, dank cell. That the wrongs and transgressions of the likes of the Biden-Crime-Family, or the Uber-corrupt-Clinton gang, or the sins of the Obama-masqueraders are minimal in regards to DT’s failings.
And, as those who applaud the use of the system against a private citizen, I caution that such actions, once sanctioned, may well become the norm.
I dig the idea that the US Congress kicked K.McCarthy out of the speaker’s seat, then took a break form business.
The Speaker is the 3rd highest position in the US system. When there is no Speaker, Congress must do no business until a new Speaker is elected. So everything stops.
Sure, makes sense to me.
Let’s see what I have been doing…
Making a stick for my old buddy DB…. was out cleaning up rusty, tangled barbed wire and found this:
So I took it home…
and cut it up… the wood is dense. It throws sparks when I cut it…
And, after a couple years and many miles, I have my bike-shed sorted, setup electrified and happening… it is good.
Have a 47Ariel on the lift. Mendoza is going to learn-how-to on this project…
September 2023 has shown itself to be quite a month. A month on steroids even… have gotten soooo muchhh done in the past couple weeks.
And its all good, except, that is, the bone tired weariness that comes from long days, lots of miles, a lot getting completed… well, maybe not completed, 100%… completion is an on going, never ending sorta gig…
I am very glad I have extensive experience surviving off of tank-water. Of course, the Solomons taught well how to live with limited water, how to ration and get things done on limited water, how to wash, launder, clean, scrub, hydrate and maintain life under limited water. Its not that easy. Flushing toilets, showers, doing dishes and laundry all change as one runs short of water.
For over the last 18-20 months water has not been a problem, unless its been too much water… below are picts from 18-20 months ago… as the little stream became a rushing river. As we saw over 3meters of rain in less than 6months…
The cleanup in aisle 3 has taken a long, long time. No where near even started cleaning up all the tangled and twisted and rusted barbwire and steel posts that are strewn about, in the back. I may have about 10% of the mess cleaned up. And that is all out front, around the house and outbuildings, along the 1/2km long drive. The back 100acres are still neglected, waiting, pending.
Its been a big job. It remains a big job.
As I gain in wisdom, knowledge and AGE, I begin to have insights into the entire gig of “getting old”… 1) stay fit and healthy. The more physicality I can put into my projects the more I can accomplish, complete, get done. Noting my strength and stamina is not what it once was. 2) Avoid injuries at all costs! Be smart, work smart, lift and tote smart. Knee braces, ankle supports, a tight belt are all important for keeping upright, mobil, and uninjured. 3) Use what ever tech possible to get a job done. Meaning that lifting. moving, shifting, relocating anything, ANYTHING, is easier and healthier with mechanical assistance. I use a big tractor and a small tractor (each with a bucket) to move most things. I use the 8ton excavator to dig, shift, lift. My back may be sore but its not injured, inflamed.
So, an old fart in a little valley with a couple big machines…. I’m like a kid in a sandbox…
Sunday here down-under. Very pleasant morning. Betsy and G.G. and Nova spent the night. we’ll head outside to raise hell on wheelz and bbq soon.
Spent the past week shape shifting an old, hard, dense piece of wood… started with this:
An old fence rail dug out of the mud n muck after the recent floods. An ancient piece of wood, trimmed and shaped ages, decades ago by unknown hands.
We rather quickly end up with something recognisable as a walking stick…
Finished product… Im pretty happy with the outcome.
This past week we were doing some more digging and came across a couple pieces of old wood. These are roots from an ancient tree, long gone and sunk and decayed. These will be cool to shape and change and see what is inside…
And finally, a word from our sponsor…
So, my old buddy, RW, your stick will be in the mail soon.
Good news and bad news… Good news always first… You’re still alive. Bad news… You just turned 66.
Unless you’re from a culture that counts ” 1 ” at birth. Then I’d be 67.
Gee, only 33/34 more years until I get to be 100.
I’m unusually sad today because I know, for the first time in my life, my mom wont say “Happy Birthday”.
I shan’t be receiving a birthday card from my Mom.
One of Mom’s big “things” was sending birthday cards. Ive always cherished and saved my cards. I always told my kids and grandkids that Granny’s cards were precious. Keep them, hide them away. Enjoy them often.
Mom was prolific in her birthday greetings by card. Each and every member of of our very extensive family got a birthday greeting, an acknowledgment, personalised in her own hand.
So I could never feel “special”, everyoen got one, I was one of many, (story of my life) but for that instant, when the card is received, the world had a big smile.
Some of her cards arrived months late. But they were always a big “make your day” sorta thing.
As she got older it became a game to try to decipher what she wrote. It was always a team effort. We’d manage eventually, read it all after a bit of effort.
And the beat goes on. Hapi Bday to me. Many more to come.
I am a bike-guy. I really dig motorcycles. I started young, young, young… influenced by my elder siblings and their cohorts. Bikes and riding are a huge part of my life.
And once in your life, maybe, if you are lucky, you get to have exactly what you want.
Meet the “B.B. 750″…
I designed and helped create this amazing machine. Master maniac and mechanic, Steve “Carpy” Carpenter, made this all possible.
I very much enjoy resurrecting bikes out of old rusty hunks. Turning what would be lost forever, into something coveted and cared for.
B.B. is no exception. It was a non-running, one owner, truly amazing “barn-find”. I am sooo glad I got to resurrect this Classic 1974 Honda CB750K.
As below, it had an old seat and a beat-up old exhaust.
But being a Cali-Bike, is still had a lot of life in it.
Climate and time does take a toll on any machine that has been parked up too long. But, if lucky, if found in time, a machine can be brought back to life. Repaired. Refurbished. All it takes is a lot of time and a fair amount of $$$.
This was the start of the B.B. project…
It was a solid machine but had been on hard times. It is now over the 50 years old. It was neglected, stored out of the way, almost forgotten… A perfect opportunity to turn the old girl into a thoroughbred, once more.
It was in 2010 I first walked into Steve “Carpy” Carpenter’s workshop in Orange County, CA.
My nephew went in to pick up a custom seat for his CB750 project. I immediately “GOT” what Carpy was doing. Liked what he was doing.
The collaboration that created The B.B. started then.
B.B. stands for “Black Beauty”. It turned into an amazing, one-of-a-kind machine. A true beauty dressed in black.
It has fantastic lines, great sound, and rides and handles like a modern machine.
Plenty to look at.
Innumerable man hours when into this. We started the project in 2012, finished it 2015. I kept it in California for years, riding it around the LA/ Pasadena area. By 2018 I decided to bring it to Australia.
Some interesting points about this bike… *1 owner. I have original paper work, plus, very cool indeed, the original licence plate. *So much of this build involved “hand-made” parts and pieces. Hundreds of hours, working ol-skool to get that vintage, custom, coool result. *Modern components are under the “skirt”. You don’t see them but the brakes, the suspension, the electrical system have all been modernised.
The headlight with the built in LED turn signals is a great addition. It also has a Halogen bulb to help you at night. Seeing into the dark when you are cranking on a ton is very important.
We painted the bucket, tanks, side covers, seat, fork, ears a high gloss black. Also painted the head light bucket, the rims, and parts of the wheel hubs.
One-off additions like custom made, screw on badge embelishers gives a soft but classy and vintage touch.
No expense spared on this build.
The frame was stripped, cleaned and coated with high gloss powder coating.
Note all the billet-work. I like the stainless steel allen-bolts. Gives a nice contrast to the black.
The motor was pulled apart and rebuilt. It remains stock with new guides and internal cam chain. Spare parts, if ever required, still readily available at any Honda dealership.
The engine in painted in a custom mix of high temp engine paint. Gives the bike a very stealthy, modern look.
B.B. is different from most custom machines that are all polished and chromed to the max.
Billeted “extras” make this machine shine. Above shows the “finned” cap for the oil dip stick. I think it sets the bike off.
Keeping with the classic era, brand new gauges added with a hand-made alloy mount. For fun we added a neutral light in the middle of the steering stem nut . Also fitted polished aluminium bar clamps to hold a custom set of clubman handlebars, with new cables, adjuster and master cylinder.
A lot of attention to detail went into the build. We fitted Tarozzi rear sets. We fitted a custom oil pressure gauge. Now you can see if you are getting good oil pressure all the time.
Finned covers and of course, a custom 4 into 1 Exhaust system. The rear brake was rebuilt using non asbestos EBC brake shoes. New springs with a polished outer hub looks great as an offset to the black rims.
Rebuilt front forks and painted lowers. New tires and front mudguard, gives that classic look of cafe-bikes back in the day.
Totally rebuilt and tuned the carburetors. These are fully detailed to match the motorcycle. We used Steel Dragons for the air-box.
All runs great and smooth, even after being in storage since 2019.
The kick starter was drilled and chromed. The rear sets prevent you from a full kick, but B.B. has an electric starter. A truly modern machine.
Hand lettering and pin stripping on the tank. B.B. is a play on the original C.B., which stands for “city bike”. Of course, B.B. stands for Black Beauty. And it is!
The tank is the original for this machine. It was hammered and bashed and bent and smoothed before adding the gloss black enamel paint. Custom, stainless steel aircraft style gas cap used because it looks so, so good.
Custom rear shocks that are raised 2 inches. Finned piggy backs help the bumps. Hand made seat assembly sits upon the frame and hides the battery etc. Snaps on the tuck n roll cover offers easy access to the battery.
Hand formed tank, new wire harness, new handlebar controls, new cables throughout make sure this bike is as-new, or better than as-new..
Drilled front brake rotor, rebuilt and polished front calliper, custom parts all over the bike makes B.B. a great head turner, and a great, reliable, daily ride.
B.B. turned out really well and runs true and strong.
I have not had B.B. on the road since 2019. Covid and life and lockdowns saw this great machine stuck in my shed, on charge, under a cover. I pulled it out recently. It started easily.
A bike like this needs a good home, needs to be used, needs to be shown off, admired, appreciated.
I have said before that August is my favourite month. So many good things about August… get a Blue Moon this month, the planet is in its preps to reverse it’s tilt, the night sky in August is always and all ways great… https://www.space.com/16149-night-sky.html
It is an overcast, drizzly morning. Had a good but short shower right on dawn. Things are drying up, for the first time in over 18months. After the once-inahundredyear floods of a year ago.
For the first time in 2years we’re running low on tank water.
I have a big tank down at the stock yards that is full, but is not connected to anything. A couple years ago I rigged a pump and over 200meters/ 600feet of poly pipe to move the water to the house tank. It was quite a chore noting the 200 meter run was covered by no less than half-a-dozen lengths of pipe coupled together. We spent most of that day turning the pump off and reconnecting blown fittings. It was a bear of a day.
This time I think I’ll use a 1000litre ICB to move the water as per need. One load at a a time.
Cant live without water, and I am very spoilt… I could buy a few thousand litersx10, but the water won’t be the nice, soft, clean rain water I am used to. Call me fussy, but the water in my tanks is very good, very clean, uncontaminated, and I’ll keep it that way as long as possible,
Funny thing about the valley I live in… even tho we’re in a bit of a dry-ish spell, there are places here on the property where I cant put my machines or they will get stuck. Ive been trying to clean up from the flood, remove the torn and strewn-about fence lines. Slash and mow the thick, tangled growths of grasses and weeds. The higher ground was dry enough for me to start this work this time last year. Through the past 12 months or so I have done what I think is a huge amount of work, but only gotten about 10acres out of 120 done, cleaned, tamed, under control…
10 acres of clearing per annum = I’ll be done in another 100years.
My topic of rumination this past week has been racism.
Racism is a simple concept. I believe all people of all walks of life have an idea, if not an experience, of what racism means to them.
I have no doubt in my entire being that at birth, a child has no concept of racism. Thus I deduce that racism is a learned trait. As opposed to an innate, or inherent trait, such as the need for comfort, warmth, security, love.
I firmly believe the development of the human, the “baby”, begins the instant the spark-of-life is ignited. At the moment of inception, the spark of life is ignited, and the being, the child, begins to emote. It responds to comforts, strife, stress, happiness, et al.
I shan’t go into it here, as I wrote about it all rather ponderously in the above link, but I still can hear the woosh of the womb. Feel the comfort and warmth of my life, before my life.
I have no recollection of having any idea about race or racism for most of my youthful years. I distinctly recall my mother being viciously angered by anything that smelt or dealt of racist concepts. She was very strict in these regards. I recall her once stating that she’d seen enough “racist bullshit” in her life. She told me once that she and her family had grown up being the “greasy Greeks”, the lowest rung on their social ladder, AND she would not allow her family to be part “of that”.
I was often confused and maybe even a little frightened when I heard someone say something that was a racial slur. The old Western Movie idea that “there is no good Indian except a dead Indian” always confused and bothered me. As I grew and traveled I heard it more and realised that it was not the norm to be raised in a family like mine. A family that was raised to not really see the difference of race.
Noting well that my mother and father represented what was then an interracial marriage. A marriage opposed by all their families.
I recall an evening when I was maybe 3-4… My father was bringing a colleague home for supper. My mother explained to me that this guy “looked different”, and that I was NOT suppose to say a thing about any difference I perceived.
The guy arrived, we were in the living room and I, as a little kid can do, climbed up on his lap and made friends with him. He was a big man (in my memory’s vision) with fantastic white hair. I looked and studied and examined as I climbed on and around him. I deduced that it was the long white hair growing out of his ears my mother was warning me about. I could not mention or say anything about the hair growing out of his ears.
Of course, the gentleman I reference was coloured. I can still find an image of him in my memory. He was very handsome.
As a Peace Corps Volunteer, in 1982 at Choisuel Bay PSS, I had a form1 student who was shit scared of me. It took me time to understand that I was the first white man she had ever seen. The reason she was frightened by me is simple… mothers in the islands often use “the white boogey man” to frighten children. Behave or I’ll give you to the “bosevaka” (white man). Stop screaming or the bosevaka will come take you… here comes the bosevaka… And then this poor 11 or 12 yearold girl was faced with an ugly white guy that was loud and big and hairy… her mother had been right!!!
So, with Racism on my mind, I went looking for a definition…
1) The International Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD), adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1965, and entering into force in 1969. Article 1 defines racial discrimi- nation as:
“… any distinction, exclusion, restriction or preference based on race, colour, descent, or national or ethnic origin which has the purpose or effect of nullifying or impairing the recognition, enjoyment or exercise, on an equal footing, of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the political, economic, social, cultural or any other field of public life.”
2) prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism by an individual, community, or institution against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalized.”
3) the belief that different races possess distinct characteristics, abilities, or qualities, especially so as to distinguish them as inferior or superior to one another.”theories of racism”
Tho very wordy, this alone is important… “… any distinction, exclusion, restriction or preference based on race, colour, descent, or national or ethnic origin which has the purpose or effect of nullifying or impairing the recognition, enjoyment or exercise, on an equal footing, of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the political, economic, social, cultural or any other field of public life.”
So… Reparations, as discussed in the US, is by definition racist. It indeed is a distinction, exclusion, restriction or preference based on race.
As well… The “VOICE” as discussed here in Australia is racist for the same reasons.
I find myself rather lost. Devoid of rudder or compass. These modern waters are very strange and confusing… I was a young, green, keen liberal that supported this simple idea: “I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” MLK 1963.
I was 6yearsold when MLK first articulated this thought. I heard these words repeated over the next years, until his assassination, it was an important theme in the “movement” for civil rights.
1963 to 2023… Im 66 years old, have a multiracial (a very multiracial) family. My 18year old grandson claims, Greek, German, English, Irish, Chinese, Choisuel, and Shortland Island blood lines.
1963 to 2023… Much has changed, progressed. In 1963 my wife and I could not legally walk together in public. In my youth, interracial marriage was illegal, noting well that interracial marriage was not legalized in all U.S. states until Loving v. Virginia in 1967!!!
1963 to 2023… And much has digressed, fragmented, been lost… Black Lives Matter… Apologise for your white privilege… The oppressed become the oppressors?
I am confused… The liberal mindset of my youthful vigorous liberalism was a positive. We are all the same. I am colour blind. I see you as a person not a person of colour.
Not any more… safe spaces that exclude “whites”. Preferences in education, employment, advancement based on quotas of race, gender, religion… All of which are negatives.
Ive spent my life fighting against the idea that because you look different you are treated different.
Ive always looked different… long hair, beards, earring, tattoos, a not white family.
Ive encountered a lot of racism in my life. As a kid. And as I aged…I was a white guy in a black man’s country. Tho Solomon Islands is not terribly racist, it does exist. (mostly between rival tribal groups.)
Here in the land of Aus we are facing what I think is an epochal moment… divide that nation by race, or not.
There is a lot within this link so I copy a small portion herein that which impressed me a lot.
More later
Peter Baldwin The Progressive Case Against the Voice
Is the proposal for a constitutionally entrenched Voice to parliament and the executive government “progressive”? If so, in what sense?
This will seem to most people a no-brainer. After all, nowadays, in one of the great acts of linguistic appropriation of our time, “progressive” has come to be seen as virtually synonymous with left-wing. And what could be more left-wing than the Voice, endorsed as it is by just about all the left- of-centre forces in Australian politics, including all factions in the Labor Party, right through to the most wild-eyed Trotskyist sect. After all, so goes the argument, it is just a modest step towards securing recognition, justice and recompense to the most oppressed part of the Australian population. Only a racist, or a member of the far Right could be against it, surely? We hear this claim repeatedly by people who call for a calm, civil “conversation”, sometimes as a precursor to launching into a vicious ad hominem attack on Voice opponents.
This near-unanimity is surprising, given that the Voice involves inserting a permanent, racially discriminatory provision in the Australian Constitution, that confers on one racially defined section of the community an additional means to influence legislation and decisions that affect every- body, not just Aboriginal people.
A long weekend coming to an end. Had the Hillbilly club up for camping and vroom n bbq n fires n fun…
The Campbells, the Wickhams, P&B, Lance, Sara, Franklin, DaveNAnnabelle, AdriamNJulieNRayden all had a very vrooomy afternoon yesterday. The stalwarts camped out. We old folks went to bed early. I actually got a good night’s sleep.
So a vroomy fun few days winding down… No one got hurt. We killed the ancient 250cc Quad. The vroom-beast is blowing smoke – will have to check that out. And 3yrold XMann decided he liked vrooming fast. He is still afraid of 2wheels, but likes it when Mendoza ride the quad up on 2wheels. Go figure…
After over 10years of use, some of these machines are getting tired. Noting well we do beat the shit outta things. Might have to turn the dead 250 into a kiddy toy of some kind??? Strip it down and make so a small kid and play on it without getting too hurt???
The sun is out. It was a wonderfully foggy morning. The intrepid campers are whooping up a big breakfast. The fire has been built-up. The kids are being kids. No one has started any machines up, yet.
Im sitting waiting for some good BloodSport.
I am tired from the past few days… the preparations and the execution of a fine, fulfilled vroomy weekend. So I shall sit wrapped in my blanket and watch the fights, drink tea, maybe dose a bit.
The Native Iowan 
thoughts and opinions