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As my reporting to the Big Guy Upstairs draws closer,I thought I would set down more of my old memories.

When I started school at the Norseman Convent in Western Australia in the late nineteen-forties, there were no such things there as pull-the-chain sewerage. There was a wooden lavatory (dunny) situated on a lane at the back of each property, on which the collection truck (night cart) attendant (dunnyman) would change the full pans weekly through a hole in the back of the dunny. We sometimes pushed thorny leaves through the hole onto the bums of kids sitting on the dunny seats during playtime.

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On December 9, 2019, tragedy struck New Zealand as White Island, an active stratovolcano located in the Bay of Plenty, erupted. 

The eruption led to the loss of lives, severe injuries, and left an indelible mark on the nation's history. 

White Island, also known as Whakaari in Maori, is an active volcano situated about 48 kilometres off the eastern coast of New Zealand's North Island. It is a popular tourist destination, attracting visitors with its otherworldly landscapes and unique geological features. 

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Back in December 2019, White Island erupted. My heart reached out to those who were caught up in that very frightening and dangerous situation.  

A place that used to be known for tourists taking selfies and the harvesting of sulfur suddenly gained worldwide attention as a scene of horror and terrible suffering. 

Tomorrow. we will have an article about that terrible day.  But for now, I would like to share my memories of the time my parents, Redhead and my late Dad, went fishing. Off White Island. 

It might be a family failing that we always try and see the good in bad situations but that is the way we are. For me, just because a place is now remembered as the home of tragedy, I cannot help but remember when it was a place where my Dad could have ruined a perfectly good fishing trip. 

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The old saying of " don't let the truth get in the way of a good story " is now pretty much the mantra of the Main Stream Media.

We are living in a time where so many have become the foolish young oysters eagerly walking with those that seek to consume us.  The old oyster knew the trap was being set but could not do a damned thing to stop the massacre ahead.

It is clear to me, when reading the poem again after so many years, that the Walrus and the Carpenter were speaking rubbish, yet the young oysters hear without listening to the actual words and ignore the warning signs that everything the Walrus and Carpenter were saying was a sinister trick . As Simon and Garfunkel sang years ago “ They hear what they want to hear and disregard the rest. “

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Her rags to riches story is tied inextricably to politics. She loved to be close to power; the more she had of it herself, the more she felt entitled to another dose of it. She craved attention and adoration so much that she once admitted, “My biggest fear in life is to be forgotten.”

She demagogued her way to a cult following among those who depended on the favors she dispensed and stepped on anyone who stood in her way. A law which obstructed her ambitions was, in her view, a law to be bent or broken. Any fair assessment of her must note that she delivered numerous vapid harangues and gave away lots of other people’s money, but she never invented, created or built anything.

No, I’m not talking about Hillary Clinton. The woman I have in mind, however, was sort of the Hillary Clinton of Argentina. Her name was Eva Perón, known affectionately by admirers as “Evita.” She is not yet forgotten, a sad fact that requires a refresher on just who she was and what she stood for.

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Our family has a long history of a practice known as  " pissing in your pocket. "  Before you get all in a tizz, it is not what it seems. It ultimately means to deliver praise in a rather over-the-top manner. 

First things first, no, we Aussies aren't advocating for peculiar methods of personal irrigation. Instead, this idiom is all about telling someone how bloody marvellous they are and praising them for a job well done.

If someone says that you are pissing their pocket, it means that you are exaggerating, but it is well received. 

Our family actually and actively piss in each other's pockets as a form of compliment and praise. In fact, up until recent years, pissing in each other's pockets was widely practiced by most Australian families. It is to compliment and praise on steroids. 

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Warning: Reading this could ruin your life!

I first noticed the bastardisation of English diction on Mark Scott’s ABC Radio National a few years ago. Never imagining anything could be more annoying than Aunty’s extreme Left bias—a condition they deny, but worse there is, much worse. Akin, perhaps, to the Black Plague which spread by the hour, consigning the innocent to squalid gutters, and so to should follow all practitioners of the infuriating fad called vocal fry. And to think that taxpayers’ have funded this dreadful croaking noise that occurs on the last word of a sentence and most ABC presenters have deliberately absorbed this hideous affectation.

Most believe this nonsense started in the US by glamorous airheads like the Kardashians and other idolisers of foolish fashion. Anything to be different these days, no matter how damned ridiculous it may be. Glottal fry has been mutating in the porridge-brained trendoids for a few years now. Most people don’t notice it right away and if they do it is passed off as an unfortunate speech impediment worthy of sympathy, as would be a foot growing from your ear. But such nonsense should not be passed off with indifference; it’s a bloody annoying abomination of the voice. It makes me, a normally passive sort of bloke eager to commit evil upon the cretin in practice.

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The world's rich and famous, plus an army of publicists, hangers-on and mendicants, are attending the COP28 meeting in Dubai, the ostentatious 7-star play-ground capital of United Arab Emirates where even the police drive luxury sports cars.

We peasant classes sitting at home note that climate royalty, including King Charles from UK, John Kerry from USA and Blackouts Bowen from Australia, are all flying there burning vast amounts of carbon fuels. Fittingly, these hypocrites chose to meet in the richest and most wasteful artificial city in the world wallowing in wealth derived from oil, gas and air-travel tourists.

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I recently watched the Netflix Mini series " The Railway Men. " What a great tribute to the Railway employee who saved thousands of lives during the Bhopal Gas Tragedy. 

The incident, one of the most devastating industrial disasters in history, occurred on the night of December 2-3, 1984, in the city of Bhopal, India. The incident not only left an indelible mark on the affected community but also raised critical questions about industrial safety, corporate responsibility, and the environmental impact of chemical disasters.

The catastrophe unfolded at the Union Carbide India Limited (UCIL) pesticide plant when a lethal gas, methyl isocyanate (MIC), leaked into the atmosphere. The gas quickly spread across the densely populated city, affecting thousands of residents while they slept. The immediate and severe health effects included respiratory problems, blindness, and various other life-threatening complications.

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They Marched in Silence and Their Voices Weren't Heard.

It was a cold October morning in England's north. Their goal? To walk to London, over 300 miles ( about 500km ) from their dying home in Jarrow. It was not a journey for the faint of heart or the meek of mind. It was a march for their right to work. Their right to feed their families.  Thousands volunteered, but only 200 were chosen.  Their job? To represent the people to the government that apparently represented them. 

The British government had decided to close the shipyard and steelworks. 

It was the act of defiant men in great need.  

How many men today would march for the RIGHT to work? Or are they too busy gluing themselves to the road for climate change? 

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The nations of the world pursue an unprecedented energy transition. Efforts are underway to force a shift from coal, oil, and natural gas to renewable energy sources by 2050. But key elements of the proposed transition suffer from major safety issues. These are batteries for electric vehicles and electricity storage, and hydrogen fuels for industry.

Most energy sources involve safety risks. Gasoline cars can explode or burn, especially after collisions. Natural gas pipelines and processing facilities have been known to explode or combust. Nuclear power plants have suffered famous disasters such as Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima, when cooling systems have failed. But green energy is bringing a new dimension of safety problems to society. 

Spontaneous combustion can really ruin your day.

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