When I was a kid, I used to watch the Looney Tunes cartoons and have a good old laugh. I didn't especially like Pepe Le Pew because the gropey stinking rodent deliberately ignored the cat's refusal of his advances. I know the cat didn't talk, but her body language was positively clamorous (not amorous, but clamorous), and she didn't want the skunk groping her! She should have kicked him in the stones. But I did watch Wile E Coyote in his pursuit of the Road Runner, and I would marvel at his wonderful paintings of train tunnels. He tried all manner of tricks, but usually resorted to some faulty Acme brand explosive, in his futile quest. Time after time, a mistimed detonation would leave him looking like a crisped and blackened puffball, but I had the common sense to 'not try this at home', and so did my contemporaries. Being blown up and pounded by falling anvils did not stop Wile E in his grim and dogged shadowing of that bird, and his determination was Captain Ahab-like in terms of sheer monomania and obsession. That analogy does seem a bit over-the-top, but bear with me because when I was mentally mind-mapping this blog posting, Captain Ahab and his single-minded, dangerous pursuit of Moby Dick presented as something of a theme in my mind's vagaries.
As I said, we knew to not fiddle around with precarious booby traps (hint: anvils are not good to have hovering near the fulcrum). But to my horror, yet also resigned acceptance, this evening I saw an extract from a statement issued by Reckitt Benckiser, the company that manufactures Dettol, wherein they pointed out that their disinfectants should NOT be ingested, injected, or internally administered via any other means as a weapon against COVID-19. Most reasonable people would hear this advice and groan, 'Well, dur-UURRRRRR!'. Problem is, we have this orange gronk in the White House making statements with comments like this: 'I see disinfectant...injection...inside or almost a cleaning...you see because it gets in the lungs and does a tremendous number on the lungs...", and then we get dunderheads injecting themselves with disinfectant! It's all well and good to take the view that people injecting themselves is just Darwinism at its finest, but these clowns could also inject their children. And I must say, I don't really want people to needlessly die. Getting back to my Moby Dick motif, from what I can recall, Ahab's first mate Starbuck argued with the Captain about his relentless and ridiculous pursuit of a 'dumb brute' (and Trump is something of a dumb brute, now that I think about it), and I think Starbuck wanted to invoke the regulation that allows for a mutiny if the ship's captain has become mentally incapacitated and is unable to run the ship.
Running with this metaphor, Trump is more than mentally incapacitated. His cheese has completely slid off the cracker. He has blown his wheels. Not only are the kangaroos hopping around in the top paddock, they are riding dodgem cars over landmines. So why in the blue blazes can't those with the authority invoke the Twenty-Fifth Amendment and have this dangerously ultracrepidarian blob of swamp froth removed from office on the grounds that he is incapacitated? It's bad enough that he brags about grabbing women 'by the pussy', and that he his main defence against criticism is to bleat 'fake news' and 'look at my ratings', but this sort of twaddle is beyond the pale. How many people have to perish because he's champing at the bit to end social distancing, and is dishing out potentially fatal 'remedies'?
Oh well, that aside, I haven't had too bad a day. Got some work done on an assessment I need to complete. Oh, and I got blocked on Twitter by Peter Dutton! That made my day; it gave me a much needed belly laugh. I haven't had a good belly laugh for so long. Gee, Spud, what did I say?
Friday, 24 April 2020
Friday, 17 April 2020
Challenges Lead to Live Launch
I thought 2016 was the most horrific and craptacular year in living memory, what with all those awesome musicians dying, and then along comes 2020, who says, 'Here, hold my beer.' It's not a permanent situation we're in, but whilst we are in this situation, it's hard to not feel fractious, or irritable, or depressed. It's all we hear about in the news, but in case you didn't hear, Cassie Blaine was released from her prison cell in Bogota today. Remember Cocaine Cassie? You know what? I'm not bothered in the least she's been released, and I'm sure her release is following due judicial process over there in Colombia. I'm just waiting for the stupid news articles, all of which will be in Murdoch rags, whipping up confected outrage like one of those machines that spins sugar into fairy floss. She is to be interviewed on 60 Minutes, and I will save you viewing time because in the ad, when asked why she did it, she replied, 'Money.' Well, duh, honey. There will also be stalking articles about her expecting the taxpayers to fund her lifestyle when she tries to claim unemployment benefits, like what happened with Shapelle Corby. Press, can we just leave the people alone to rebuild their lives, please?
Has anyone else heard of Scotty from Marketing and PC Plod Pete's idea of having a tracking app on mobile phones to trace the movements of Corona patients? I want this virus contained as much as the next person, but when there's talk bandied about that the app could be made mandatory, I don't like the sound of this much at all. Worry about the fuck-up with the Ruby Princess, okay? And Duds Dutton, worry about your eyebrows; I think someone's stolen them. Either that, or they got so sick of your vicious draconian blathering that they crawled off your face and ran away.
We have to be resourceful and think outside the square in these trying times. One of my fellow Muswellbrook authors was due to launch her latest novel at a local coffee shop tonight. Well, that changed, so tonight I watched my first ever live stream book launch wherein she launched her book on Facebook, telling us the inspiration and salient points, as her husband channelled his inner Russell Mulcahy and worked the camera. Anyway, I'm proud of how my friend rose to the challenge, and if you like speculative fiction, the book is called Amethyst Pledge, and her name's Leonie Rogers. Book's available through Hague.
Speaking of publishers, I'm in the market for a new one. Any takers? In the meantime, I'm going to get the books on Kindle as downloads. 'Abernethy' can be purchased thus at the moment.
It was good to watch the live steam, and interact on the Facebook feed. It was a distraction from the mire of viral malaise, and a reminder that things will be better and whilst we have the arts, we are very lucky indeed.
Has anyone else heard of Scotty from Marketing and PC Plod Pete's idea of having a tracking app on mobile phones to trace the movements of Corona patients? I want this virus contained as much as the next person, but when there's talk bandied about that the app could be made mandatory, I don't like the sound of this much at all. Worry about the fuck-up with the Ruby Princess, okay? And Duds Dutton, worry about your eyebrows; I think someone's stolen them. Either that, or they got so sick of your vicious draconian blathering that they crawled off your face and ran away.
We have to be resourceful and think outside the square in these trying times. One of my fellow Muswellbrook authors was due to launch her latest novel at a local coffee shop tonight. Well, that changed, so tonight I watched my first ever live stream book launch wherein she launched her book on Facebook, telling us the inspiration and salient points, as her husband channelled his inner Russell Mulcahy and worked the camera. Anyway, I'm proud of how my friend rose to the challenge, and if you like speculative fiction, the book is called Amethyst Pledge, and her name's Leonie Rogers. Book's available through Hague.
Speaking of publishers, I'm in the market for a new one. Any takers? In the meantime, I'm going to get the books on Kindle as downloads. 'Abernethy' can be purchased thus at the moment.
It was good to watch the live steam, and interact on the Facebook feed. It was a distraction from the mire of viral malaise, and a reminder that things will be better and whilst we have the arts, we are very lucky indeed.
Wednesday, 8 April 2020
Appeals and Downers
We had a welcome -sort of - break from the constant influx of news about Covid-19 a couple of days ago. It was the news that the High Court of Appeal upheld Cardinal Pell's appeal in a unanimous 7-0 decision. For those of you who don't know, the High Court Bench comprises seven justices. I know it's taken me a few days to get on here and write about it, but I've been working like a slave, and exhausted, and to be honest: irritable. The Bench's decision doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the bleating misinformed spurious dreck from every armchair lawyer in Australia.
I didn't do any writing about this on Tuesday because I was just so fed up. I worked and studied, and we decided to have KFC for a treat. Whether those gruesome, greasy globules of chicken can be truly called a treat is debatable, but when one is tired et cetera, et cetera, and again: et cetera. We have to do drive through. Everybody else in town wanted KFC. It took me ages to arrive at the window, and when I received my order, it was revealed 'my' share of the food hadn't been included. It seems that whilst it was put on the 'system', it wasn't charged, ergo not paid. I suggested I pay for it at the window where I was parked, only to be advised the front registers are locked down, and I would have to go back around to the drive-through window. I snapped that I would do nothing of the sort, just give me the food that was paid for, and fuggedaboudit. So I drove home, the smoke streaming from my ears threatening my vision, and was fortunate enough that my husband and son were willing to share their greasy treats with me.
I was too furious to think straight, and now that I have calmed down somewhat, will do a bit of writing. There are so many suggestions as to what we can do whilst we are in isolation, and I think some people out there could maybe enrol in a law unit via open university. When the subject of the High Court's role comes up, listen really hard, everybody. The amount of dumbarsery that has been put forward is beyond a joke. Let me address some of it for you:
1. 'Money talks.' Maybe it does. But not in judicial appeals. Yes, not everybody has the means to fund an appeal. However, a poor person can still apply for legal aid funding. That funding is contingent upon a learned counsel's opinion as to whether the appeal has merit, and if so, then a poor person can argue a case to the High Court of Australia, too.
2. 'All seven judges must be Catholics'. I would be embarrassed to have put forward such a lame assertion, but some people clearly have no shame (nor common sense). No, what the seven judges are is this: very senior lawyers who make decisions in the highest court in our land. Our land is subject to rule of law, and this is a pretty good idea. The High Court must rule on the laws, and there are laws that must be adhered to in the running of trials, too. The Court found there was room for reasonable doubt. A person cannot be convicted unless guilt has been proven beyond reasonable doubt.. I have a multitude of friends in the legal profession (and was a member of the profession myself for twenty-plus years) who were of a mind that in the legal sense, the evidence against Pell was 'flawed'. This does not mean they believe Pell is of good character, or that they do not believe the person who gave evidence against him. It just means legal minds saw room for reasonable doubt.
I hope this makes sense.
Anyway, so all the news is back about Covid-19. So, let's just keep working together to get this stupid curve flattened, thus allowing our lives to return to normal. We have to look after each other. Did you hear that, Alexander Downer? Let me provide the text from his tweet:
We either save avoidable deaths & destroy society OR accept avoidable deaths & save society. The moral dilemma of our time.
No, I'm not making that up. I've copied and pasted. Alex, if you're reading this as you recline on your chaise lounge, a snifter of cognac in your hand, knowing you are safe in your tightly fortressed abode Snobby-Fuck Manor, I must ask: Are you fried? What is WRONG with you (other than a bad case of Gentrified-Twat-Privilege)? How's this for a proposal: we prevent avoidable deaths, and society will just organically rebuild because our consciences are clear in the knowledge we did what we could? Mate, your the reason the peasants revolt, so watch yourself.
I didn't do any writing about this on Tuesday because I was just so fed up. I worked and studied, and we decided to have KFC for a treat. Whether those gruesome, greasy globules of chicken can be truly called a treat is debatable, but when one is tired et cetera, et cetera, and again: et cetera. We have to do drive through. Everybody else in town wanted KFC. It took me ages to arrive at the window, and when I received my order, it was revealed 'my' share of the food hadn't been included. It seems that whilst it was put on the 'system', it wasn't charged, ergo not paid. I suggested I pay for it at the window where I was parked, only to be advised the front registers are locked down, and I would have to go back around to the drive-through window. I snapped that I would do nothing of the sort, just give me the food that was paid for, and fuggedaboudit. So I drove home, the smoke streaming from my ears threatening my vision, and was fortunate enough that my husband and son were willing to share their greasy treats with me.
I was too furious to think straight, and now that I have calmed down somewhat, will do a bit of writing. There are so many suggestions as to what we can do whilst we are in isolation, and I think some people out there could maybe enrol in a law unit via open university. When the subject of the High Court's role comes up, listen really hard, everybody. The amount of dumbarsery that has been put forward is beyond a joke. Let me address some of it for you:
1. 'Money talks.' Maybe it does. But not in judicial appeals. Yes, not everybody has the means to fund an appeal. However, a poor person can still apply for legal aid funding. That funding is contingent upon a learned counsel's opinion as to whether the appeal has merit, and if so, then a poor person can argue a case to the High Court of Australia, too.
2. 'All seven judges must be Catholics'. I would be embarrassed to have put forward such a lame assertion, but some people clearly have no shame (nor common sense). No, what the seven judges are is this: very senior lawyers who make decisions in the highest court in our land. Our land is subject to rule of law, and this is a pretty good idea. The High Court must rule on the laws, and there are laws that must be adhered to in the running of trials, too. The Court found there was room for reasonable doubt. A person cannot be convicted unless guilt has been proven beyond reasonable doubt.. I have a multitude of friends in the legal profession (and was a member of the profession myself for twenty-plus years) who were of a mind that in the legal sense, the evidence against Pell was 'flawed'. This does not mean they believe Pell is of good character, or that they do not believe the person who gave evidence against him. It just means legal minds saw room for reasonable doubt.
I hope this makes sense.
Anyway, so all the news is back about Covid-19. So, let's just keep working together to get this stupid curve flattened, thus allowing our lives to return to normal. We have to look after each other. Did you hear that, Alexander Downer? Let me provide the text from his tweet:
We either save avoidable deaths & destroy society OR accept avoidable deaths & save society. The moral dilemma of our time.
No, I'm not making that up. I've copied and pasted. Alex, if you're reading this as you recline on your chaise lounge, a snifter of cognac in your hand, knowing you are safe in your tightly fortressed abode Snobby-Fuck Manor, I must ask: Are you fried? What is WRONG with you (other than a bad case of Gentrified-Twat-Privilege)? How's this for a proposal: we prevent avoidable deaths, and society will just organically rebuild because our consciences are clear in the knowledge we did what we could? Mate, your the reason the peasants revolt, so watch yourself.
Sunday, 5 April 2020
The Wind of Gahd
To all those dedicated scientists working on a vaccine to staunch this frigging menace otherwise known as COVID-19, you might as well wash up the petri dishes, wipe down the benches with Spray'n'Wipe, and shove your coats in a bucket of Napison because you're wasting your time. Apparently what will get rid of this virus is 'The Wind of God'.
Yep, true dinks. Saw it in a film clip. Some evangelist type in - I think - Texas giving a speech with his acolytes around him parroting his words like some kind of charlatan Greek chorus. The minister's name is Kenneth Copeland, and he kind of looks like a frenzied cobra with black plastic Lego hair. He cries out the virus will be banished by 'the wind of God!', only because he's - I think - Texan, it comes out as, 'The wind of Gahd!' What ever the pronunciation, accent, and geographic dialect, it all just smacks of utter charlatanism, chicanery, give-me-all-your-money-to-help-me-do-the-Lord's-work-bullshit, and duplicitous scamming. Look, Ken, I highly doubt this germ is going to be obliterated by the flatulence of a metaphysical being, as you appear to be asserting. Why do people have to be so frigging greedy and take advantage of others, and why are people so fucking stupid that they'd give credence to what is obviously a snake oil salesman in a suit (with a fawning Greek chorus in the background)?
It's the type of thing that makes you think: Well, that's enough Internet for me today.
Toodles.
Yep, true dinks. Saw it in a film clip. Some evangelist type in - I think - Texas giving a speech with his acolytes around him parroting his words like some kind of charlatan Greek chorus. The minister's name is Kenneth Copeland, and he kind of looks like a frenzied cobra with black plastic Lego hair. He cries out the virus will be banished by 'the wind of God!', only because he's - I think - Texan, it comes out as, 'The wind of Gahd!' What ever the pronunciation, accent, and geographic dialect, it all just smacks of utter charlatanism, chicanery, give-me-all-your-money-to-help-me-do-the-Lord's-work-bullshit, and duplicitous scamming. Look, Ken, I highly doubt this germ is going to be obliterated by the flatulence of a metaphysical being, as you appear to be asserting. Why do people have to be so frigging greedy and take advantage of others, and why are people so fucking stupid that they'd give credence to what is obviously a snake oil salesman in a suit (with a fawning Greek chorus in the background)?
It's the type of thing that makes you think: Well, that's enough Internet for me today.
Toodles.
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