" We need to preserve wild spaces. Outside in the environment, but also within ourselves. The opposite of control isn’t chaos, it is reality" 

I read this quote recently and it got me pondering. 

What a profoundly wonderful piece of truth.

When our lives are controlled, we are meaningless. We drift from task to task, seemingly blind in achieving our objective which, ultimately, is to stay ahead of the Boss Hogs, Weasels, and Snakes. 

But when we are allowed to thrive, the world is beyond limit. 

Someone else said that

 " these Oligarchs who control our lives through that thing called government are ADDICTS. They are addicted to MORE Money, Power & Control…"

ADDICTS do not care how much damage they do. Everything is about how they will get their next fix. They have delusional versions of ‘reality’ that back up their justifications for such damage if they aren’t completely oblivious....

Once you understand that these people will never STOP THEMSELVES… then you understand the reality we are facing… they can’t be ‘reasoned’ with… they have no ‘reasoning’ that does not involve pushing forward with their agenda.

We need a rehab for these people and I think they need years of residential, contained treatment.

Yet we are being told, on a daily basis, that we must not visit our wild places because they " belong " to native people. 

Coming to a town near you… 😳

Volume UP! pic.twitter.com/7cxiKGNAhv

— Clown Down Under 🤡 (@clowndownunder) August 5, 2023

I NEED my wild place. Just as much as an aboriginal does. 

This country does not belong to anyone.

No one has the right to claim ownership of a land that was created by a hand that existed long before the creation of mankind. In fact, we are guardians. All of us. 

I need somewhere to retreat to that is outside the CONTROL of the Boss Hog. Somewhere to travel, in my mind and somewhere to smell the flowers, see the sun set and the sun to rise. I need that solitude and sanctuary of my mind.

Because there is sweet bugger all else left these days when we need to go to a quiet place.

Yes, I understand that I can get in my car and head off into the Outback. I can lie under a star-filled sky and be amazed at the sheer bounty that is out there; that endless infinity that we call the Universe. 

I can pitch a tent beside a creek and roll out my swag and sip from a bottle of green ginger wine as I warm myself in the cold winter's night air.

 I think about this when I hear people telling me that I am an invader.

But I cannot begin to comprehend how people today can survive the relentless bombardment of propaganda, noise, and inane idiocy that spews forth from television news and left wing social media. And the proposed theft of my right to go to my wild place. 

I cannot. What have we done? Seriously? What have we done? 

I can smile as I read from my dog-eared copy of the writings of Banjo Patterson ( who should have been posthumously knighted by the way ) and I can recount the shave of the Man from Ironbark as he escaped the razor that sought to slit his throat.

 Reading by our dear Malcolm

Only these days we are slitting our own throats and the man from Ironbark is no more.

A lost soul in a nation that has lost its way. 

When I was a little girl, my grandfather had a home in the middle of the city. It must have had a very big wild place because, down the back, there was a place called " The Wild Place ".

It was so convenient really. 

We could play there and imagine all sorts of things. But we were still close enough to home that Mum could call and we would hear her and be back at the table for lunch.

It had a stone wall around it and, within the wild place there were many monsters, wild animals and creatures as yet undiscovered. 

Once we scaled that stone wall, we were in another dimension. And it was all within a " cooeee " of our Mum. It was not just our wild pace. It was paradise.

We don't need a war to shout Cooee to each other and Mum and Dad still say Cooee....what a shame we cannot do it as a nation

Today, our wild places are so far away. 

We cannot scale a stone wall and enter a wild place. 

We must travel distances in cars. We must make sure we have a valid permit. 

We must make declarations. Sign forms. Tick boxes.

The Wild Place is no longer an easy place to visit.  

So many of us choose to visit in our imaginations and our minds and our uneasy sleep.

If " The Voice " gets up, I fear that our wild places will be places we can only visit in our memories or, if we pay enough money. 

Or is it about control? And Money.