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What is it that makes us remember things from our past and, for some inexplicable reason, they stick with us?

Some things are from distant memories of childhoods lived and recalled with great fondness. Others talk about an incident from adulthood. In all cases, they feature an event that has stayed with us as a “ keeper “ in the file cabinet called our memory.

When people approach their end of useful life ( according to the young smart arses that think that they will live forever, or perish due to climate change before their 30th birthday ) it seems to be that our minds retreat to happier times that our brains chose to save, while deleting so many thousands of days.

Why is that?

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Today's article is about Deception. Lies. Experimentation. Life. Death. Family. Love. Hate and Betrayal.

It is about incompetence. Government. Loss. Restriction and Destruction. In short, it is about the very things we are all confronting in this new global reset that is hell bent of changing our world forever. 

It all started when I watched a documentary about 3 boys. All adopted. One, to a wealthy educated couple. Another to a middle class working couple. Another to a more blue collar family. All three were loved and given every advantage within their parent's power. 

It transpired that they were triplets, separated at birth and sent out to be tracked over their lives to see how they progressed. Would they grow up differently from their siblings?  Yes, the kicker was, that unbeknown to them, they had been part of an experiment. A vile, sinister and wicked experiment to see how nature v nuture works. 

I found it very disturbing. How could adoption agencies allow such a perverse experiment in our era of so called enlightenment? 

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I remember the days before computers changed our lives. When I was a lad, I first trained as a civil engineer in the late 1950s to early 1960s. There were no electronic calculators, and all calculations were performed either manually, by trigonometric tables, or by using a slide rule.

We used to analyse the stresses and bending moments in structural elements using advanced mathematics based upon first principles, knowledge of which has long faded from my aged brain. 

The Sydney Harbour Bridge is a classic two-pinned arch design which we studied. If you drive past both abutments, you will see the huge supporting pins which take the entire load of the bridge.

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As the war raged on the Eastern Front, the Soviet Union was in dire need of pilots to combat the relentless advance of the German forces. In response, Marina Raskova, herself a pioneering aviator, proposed the formation of female combat air regiments. Thus, in October 1941, the 588th Night Bomber Regiment was born, later to be known as the "Night Witches" by their German adversaries.

What set these women apart was not just their gender but their method of operation. Flying outdated Polikarpov Po-2 biplanes, these wooden-framed, canvas-covered relics were dubbed "crop dusters" by the Germans, hardly a match for the formidable Luftwaffe. However, it was precisely this underestimation that became their greatest advantage.

Operating under the cover of darkness, the Night Witches struck terror into the hearts of the enemy. Flying low and slow, their Po-2s emitted a distinctive whooshing sound, resembling a witch's broomstick, hence their ominous moniker. With no parachutes and minimal defensive armament, they navigated through the night skies, dropping their payloads of bombs on unsuspecting German encampments and supply lines.

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I am proud to pay tribute to a testimony to the power of coal. If a grand old lady of over 100 years can still stand with coal power in a country seemingly obsessed with renewables I have to say this: try running her on wind power or solar panels. Or looking for a big enough power point to plug her into each night. She works 14 hours a day in the summer months when the days are long and there is always a brisk breeze on Lake Wakatipu but she still thrives on Coal. 

Anyone who has ever visited the beautiful town of Queenstown in New Zealand, will know the sight of the steamship Earnslaw. 

The TSS Earnslaw is an integral part of Queenstown’s pioneering history and to this day a Queenstown icon. She was commissioned by New Zealand Railways to service the communities around Lake Wakatipu. Launched in the same year as the Titanic, the TSS Earnslaw’s maiden voyage was on 18 October 1912. 

And this grand old lady runs on something that is demonised today -  hard back-breaking work and coal. 

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Many years ago, my late Uncle was approached by a lady who had inherited some money. She wanted to open a coffee shop. She asked my Uncle if it would be a wise investment. 

After some consideration, he replied

" Have you ever run a coffee shop?"

" No " she replied. " But I really like coffee and I am a good baker. I think I could make a success of it."

My Uncle looked at her and said "Are you prepared to lose it? All your money? All on the account that you like coffee and baking? Are you prepared to lose it? " 

The woman shook her head and said " No. "

My Uncle replied " Then do not do it. " 

There is, as my brother says, a lesson to be learned here. 

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I read with dismay and horror that the statue of Sir John Monash was vandalised recently. 

General Sir John Monash is one of the truly great Australians. He was an Australian military and civilian leader as well as a great contributor to Australian life. His achievements are outstanding. In my opinion, Monash was not just our most outstanding military leader but our most outstanding citizen of all time.

The achievements of John Monash are so extensive and comprehensive that I cannot condense them into a single post. Yet I have. 

We will explore the life of this man, John Monash; from his early years that started with the Gold Rush; how he met Ned Kelly the infamous bushranger; how he turned from a boy to a young man and how he turned from the son of migrants to one of our finest Australians. It is truly a tale worth telling and a story that should be taught in every school across our great country that we call Australia.   

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Some time ago I watched  "The Man who shot Liberty Valance " - it should be compulsory viewing for everyone in America right now, if not the entire world. What a spectacular tale about the value of a vote and the value of free and fair elections.

I have watched it before, but never before has that message come through so loud and clear as it did in my recent rewatch. .

What was it about? A bad guy and his bully mates trying to terrorise a community into submission. A weak Marshall, afraid to confront the baddies; a newspaper man frightened of the bad guys torching his newspaper office and or killing him;  and townspeople too afraid to confront the menace that is ruining their lives.

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I dedicate this article to the women who fought, died and tragically were lost. From Australia, New Zealand, Canada and America... everywhere.

Alongside the brave men who did the same.

I dedicate it to the women who kept the wheels turning on the farms and in the mines and in the factories and in the family homes. And the women who went to war and fought alongside their men. 

There is great equality in life and in death. But nowhere as great as in the love we feel in our hearts. Oh how we must remember these brave women. 

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The concept of Mother’s Day as we know it in Australia began in the United States in the days of the Civil War by two ladies who were Peace advocates and suffragettes. They started a campaign to care for wounded soldiers from both sides by creating Mother’s Day Work Clubs to improve public health.

They made a Mother’s Day proclamation in 1870 and called on mothers of all nationalities to join together and promote the amicable settlement of international disputes. The movement did not succeed. The lady’s name was Anna Jarvis but she persisted with the idea of setting aside a special day to honour all mothers because a mother is "the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world".

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Carbon-capture-and-underground-storage “(CCUS)” tops the list of silly schemes “to reduce man-made global warming”. The idea is to capture exhaust gases from power stations or cement plants, separate the CO2 from the other gases, compress it, pump it to the chosen burial site and force it underground into permeable rock formations. Then hope it never escapes.

An Australian mining company who should know better is hoping to appease green critics by proposing to bury the gas of life, CO2, deep in the sedimentary rocks of Australia’s Great Artesian Basin.

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