The PR Blog

On the Soane's steep western bank towers "Le Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere", its noble, time-stained parapets dart through the summer greenery like white fingers tenaciously anchoring the pious edifice to terra-firma.  From its lofty perch the confluence of the rivers Soane and Rhone can be seen to the south.

"Montee du Gourguillon" is the steep roadway leading up to the Fourvier. Its  name is derived from a deformation of  “gargoyle" because of the way torrents of water rush down the street during a deluge.  When Pope Clement V celebrated his coronation in Lyon in 1305, he fell from his mule while climbing this street and a precious stone broke from his crown and vanished in the crowd. It  has not been found to this day. I suppose either he or his religion was not embraced by everybody in the crowd.

On September 2, 1945, aboard the USS Missouri (BB-63) the Japanese Instrument of Surrender was formally signed, effectively ending World War II.

The surrender was signed by Japanese officials on one side, representing the Empire of Japan, and by Allied officials on the other side, representing the United States, United Kingdom, Australia, China, the Soviet Union and other allied Nations. 

The signing of the Instrument of Surrender marked the official end of hostilities in the Pacific theatre of World War II and the beginning of the post-war reconstruction period in Japan. This event is often referred to as the "Japanese surrender ceremony".

I have to wonder if love means the same thing to everyone. It is such a wonderful word. 

My old Sunday School teacher told me God was love. 

People these days say that love is about sex. It is not. In my opinion.  

Love is such a tricky word really. 

I used to regard the government as extremely inept/incompetent, fairly corrupt, and facing incentives that pushed institutions/officials to be generally corrupt and inept.

Now, I regard the government as fundamentally evil on par with other classical evil regimes throughout human history — something made clear by the government’s behavior during the pandemic.

It was August 31st 1997 and I was working as a guard in a maximum security male prison in Queensland Australia. 

One of the prisoners came up to me and said " Miss. You need to come with me and sit down. I have some bad news. " 

I had often spoken about my respect for Princess Diana and used her as a role model for men and women. I suggested to the prisoners that she was brave, frightened and prepared to confront life in a way many of us could never do. I used her as an example of someone who, despite wealth and luxury, had been dealt a hard hand in life but she had always stumped up to the plate and faced unfairness with dignity. 

I went with my fellow officer into the living area that about 8 prisoners shared. They were strangely subdued. Quiet. Almost anxious. 

" Miss, it just came across on the radio. Princess Diana is dead. " 

Someone sent me a link to a prize home raffle. Win a home at Marcus Beach on the beautiful Sunshine Coast. Queensland, Australia. One of the most magnificent places on earth. 

The house is lovely. Worth nearly $3 million. Who wouldn't want to buy it?  Own it? Win it? I mean, what is there not to like? 

Except, on the website, it says that the house is on aboriginal land. Yep. You got it. You may win the house but you don't own the land? As James Morrow says, " Come on, man! " 

If this Voice " referendum gets up, who knows who will own what. All I can say is that I will own two tenths of bugger all and the aboriginals will own 1 tenth of bugger all and the government and the WEF will own everything. because ownership of bugger all is well,,,, bugger all. 

In a nutshell, we will own nothing but we won't be happy.