Phar Lap was probably the greatest racehorse in Australian history. A horse that led Australia through difficult times during the Depression. As Australia grinds to its annual halt for the Melbourne Cup, it is only fitting to remember what he gave to those people around the Nation all those many years ago.
This horse, this amazing animal, united Australia in dark days and united Australians through hope and a bet that strength of character would triumph.
After all, Phar Lap loved to win
Read more: Phar Lap - A Champion for and Of the Underdogs
" The white Western Culture is vastly superior to the other rabble cultures of the world. No wonder those human debris peoples hate the white people so much. "
I read this some time ago and realized that it is more than about time that the White Caucasian peoples of the world stopped their cringing at every brickbat that is thrown at them by the coloured races from Africa and the Middle East.
I have never had a tattoo. Nor am I likely to. I hate pain and am rather partial to my skin colour without feeling the need to change its colour or use it as a canvas for artistic expression.
It seems somehow foreign to me. I am rather appreciative of myself and what I look like and, though I may not be as I wish I appeared to others, I am what I am as Popeye used to say. Because I am an Individual and you can't touch me.
Why are people so eager to get branded these days? Tattoos? Vaccinations? Barcodes? Digital Identities? Why?
Read more: Branded... People are Strange. A Story about Tattoos, Vax and Individualism
Florence Nightingale is well remembered as the founder of a nursing order. She was also revered as a saintly vision by so many suffering and wounded soldiers during the bloody Crimean War of 1845.
From her ministering to the sick by the feeble light of a hurricane lamp, Miss Nightingale became immortalised as, “The lady with the lamp.”
Soyer, on the other hand, was a Frenchman, an author, a flamboyant egocentric, also a culinary genius. So how did these two unlikely souls come together? Perhaps it is not as strange as it first appears.
Read more: The Story of Two People Who Had Simple Solutions to Complex Problems
When I was a lad in Western Australia, the 5th of November used to be an eagerly awaited event.
That was Guy Fawkes Night, commemorating the apprehension in 1605 of conspirators who plotted to blow up the British Parliament and were hanged and quartered.
Just the sort of thing a young Flysa could get excited about.
The Catholic conspirators lead by Fawkes, placed thirty-six barrels of gunpowder in an undercroft beneath the House of Lords in order to assassinate the Protestant King James 1 during the opening of Parliament, and place his young daughter Elizabeth on the throne as a puppet Queen.
When I was a kid, we used to play a game called “ stacks on the mill “. It essentially meant that a kid would lie down and the rest of us would jump on and form a pyramid and chant “ stacks on the mill, more on still “ until the pile of kids collapsed and the poor kid at the bottom of the stack would drag himself or herself out from under the pile of bodies and breathe again.
It was a great game to play – unless you were the poor kid at the bottom of the stack. And I think that we, these days, the normal people, are the poor kid at the bottom of the stack. Let me explain.
When I was a kid, I came across some evangelical material with a tag line that has stuck with me ever since. “If being a Christian became a crime in your country, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”
Over the years, as my church attendance waxed and waned, the phrase kept coming back to me, perhaps to give me a little prod, for which I’m now thankful. But overall, it didn’t bother me all that much. But in the last few years, a generalised, perverted form of the phrase has slowly but surely crystallised in my mind.
“If being [insert attribute] became a crime in your country, would any evidence be enough to save you?
Read more: Will You Be Convicted of Spreading Misinformation?
As net zero strangles Australian industry, Australia is becoming green, powerless and defenceless.
History holds lessons which we ignore at our peril.
Japan was opened to trade with the US in the 1850's. They were daunted by the naval power of Britain and the US but were determined to catch up.
In the 1930's Japan attacked China, Mussolini attacked Ethiopia and Hitler planned how to avenge WW1 in Europe. Britain's PM Chamberlain negotiated with Hitler and proclaimed he had achieved "Peace in our Time".
But Churchill warned:
"Britain must arm. America must arm. We will surely do it in the end but how much greater the cost for each day's delay."
Beersheba is a name that should resonate with every Australian with the same ease and reverence as Gallipoli.
Sadly it does not.
Because the charge on the desert city of Beersheba on 31st October, 1917 is the most outstanding piece of military daring and execution ever undertaken in the military history of the World.
There is a lack of consciousness these days in the hearts of ordinary people.
A lack of Patriotism and Soul.
A lack of Pride.
Given that we still celebrate ANZAC Day, Bullecourt and other Western Front disasters. We seem to forget so much.
Our National tribute of " Lest We Forget " seems to have somehow turned into " We Have Forgotten. "
I was a very happy camper to see my daughter, who recently returned from an unfortunate trip overseas. Having been hospitalised and in a pretty bad way from bad food, bad water or bad who knows what, I finally got to wrap my arms around her and say " Thank God you are OK. "
Her life, and those of her fellow travellers, had been in jeopardy. Some were ill and some were gravely ill. Hospitalised in a foreign country where language barriers made it even more challenging. Our anxiety " back home " was extreme. We felt so helpless. Because we were, well, helpless.
It's a funny thing being a parent. No matter how old you are or how old your children are, they are our babies and we love them as if we still held in them in our arms and rejoiced in the miracle of their birth.
So, after a brush with death from an horrific bout of God knows what that saw her so very ill in that foreign place along with her fellow humanitarian travellers, I finally saw her today. Still magnificently gorgeous, thank goodness.
My " baby " was home.
Read more: We Need to Keep the Lights on and Find Refuge in a Storm
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