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In these days of increasing Thought Police intervention in our lives, I had a rather interesting revelation: It dawned on me that so many of us already talk in code. 

No, I am not talking about the codes adopted during the war with the famous ( or infamous ) Enigma code that caused Alan Turing and his team of codebreakers so much consternation in WW II; no, I am talking about the code that families speak. 

Let me give you some examples. 

When I was a little girl, my parents bought some sleeping bags for my two older brothers. They were rather el cheapo, kapok filled grey sleeping bags and were so thin that my older brother complained " Gee! They are so thin, you could spit through them " 

Henceforth, in our family, a sleeping bag was known as a spit through.  If someone ever kidnapped a family member and we had to establish if that person was an alien, the first question we would ask would be " What is a spit through? " 

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It was back in the early days of 2019 that Australia was shocked to learn that one its greatest sports men, Israel Folau, was fired for quoting the Bible. Alan Jones, then host of his own show on Sydney radio said 


“The Australia that our Anzacs fought for seems to be disappearing before our very eyes,” Jones said. “It prompts you to wonder what kind of society we’re living in.

“Nothing wrong with Israel, [Folau ] it’s the society and those who prosecute [and persecute ] him who are sick.

“But the cancer won’t kill us, it’s the cancer that will be removed, not Israel. The Australian people won’t accept this.

“This is not the Australia our veterans fought for and we’re going to have to take our country back by argument and by the democratic and peaceful process — not by hate and revenge or vilification and intimidation.”

Well, how wrong Jones was. For it appears that Australia did accept it and our country is a much changed place. 

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Most, if not all of us have a freezer of one size or another.  But, do you know exactly what's in there? Is your freezer stacked with neat packages clearly stating contents and date?
Or, is it like mine where shrivelled and  discoloured meats lay in unmarked icy heaps proving that freezer paper does have a use-by-date?
All those costly packs of meat and fish were  bought on "special". 
They were too big a bargain to pass up. However, out of sight, out of mind is an old saying specially invented for the home freezer. 

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Magic happens everywhere and goodness, wonder and delight can be found alive and well throughout the world. 

All we need do is look to our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, for the joy in the simplicity of delight to be found in such timeless heroes.

Fairies are part of my Manx heritage so it is not be be treated lightly that you have my assurance that the Tooth Fairies are still flying around the world doing a great job. 

They tell me that the Easter Bunny is also ready for a bumper Easter Egg day. But they asked me to remind the children to brush their teeth and not get carried away with too many goodies from the Bunny basket.


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As Easter has come upon us one more year, I have been pondering what to write. What to feature for a day ( Good Friday ) that was hardly good and rather more than a simple end to a bad week. 

In this time of confusion, unrest and violence - where good seems to being constantly overshadowed by evil - I wondered how the story would sound if it was seen through the allegory of a modern musical band. I mean no disrespect and I hope that my story is read with that in mind. 

It was hardly a good Friday. In fact, it was a rather unpleasant day if we are to be honest. 

Sometimes, bad weeks just get worse, don't they?  As far as Jesus was concerned, he had been let down by one of his best mates and, when interviewed by police, another close friend said " I don't know nuffink. " 

The Band, known as Jesus and the Disciples, were a big hit 2000 years ago. They played gigs at local venues, spreading messages of love, hope, and unity through their music. Jesus, the charismatic lead singer, had a voice that could soothe even the most troubled souls, and his lyrics touched the hearts of all who listened.

It was a terrible end to what had been a bad week for the band. 

So how did the band get to this place? 

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Less than three hours ago, I was sitting in the Israeli Embassy in Washington, DC, watching 47 minutes of footage from the Hamas massacre on October 7, together with a small group of specially invited evangelical leaders. The images, as expected, were jarring, disturbing, horrific.

Little children in their pajamas, butchered in their own beds, covered in blood. The corpses of young women, shot in their crotches. Victims with their hands tied behind their backs, now charred with fire.

Others burned beyond recognition.

Bloody image after bloody image for 47 minutes.

CCTV footage of a woman cowering on the floor, trying to hide from Hamas bullets. Then bodycam images from those same terrorists as they carry out her lifeless body.

Cell phone video footage of young, female Israeli soldiers, huddling together on the floor as they try to find refuge from the murderers who caught them unaware early in the morning. Are they safe here? Should they try to run somewhere else and hide? The next footage shows their bullet ridden corpses as their murderers celebrate.

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Has the dust settled? 

Far from it. It is everywhere. We are choking on it. The storm cloud comes in many forms: inflation, learning losses, ill-health, high crime, non-functioning government services, broken supply chains, shoddy work, displaced workers, substance abuse, mass loneliness, discredited authority, a growing real estate crisis, censored technology, and overweening state power. 

For that matter, consider that Easter, the day to celebrate the Son of God’s triumph of life over death, itself was canceled for public worship just four years ago. That actually happened. Not even at the height of World War II was there a consideration of such a thing, or even canceling baseball. When the idea was suggested in a famous movie script, Spencer Tracy asked “Why would you abolish the thing you are trying to preserve?” (Woman of the Year 1942). 

Good question. What precisely was the point of the hell we went through? Who did it and why? Why did it last so long? Why has there been no official accounting?

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This Easter, we are praying for a miracle and a rebirth or resurrection where good triumphs over evil and hope is restored and justice and commonsense prevail.

At least that is how I feel. 

Over the centuries, we have learned so much about the strength of the human spirit. That incredible ability to triumph over adversity, whether it be physical, emotional or mental agony... or all three at once.

As Easter approaches, so too is the concept of war uppermost in our minds... it seems to loom ever more ominously on the horizon...... that conflict that drives us to delve deep and draw upon reserves that we often did not know we had. 

People speak so frequently about Easter being about death and rebirth. About struggles that can wear us down yet somehow, the miracle of the human spirit can come out the other end and rejoice that all is not lost.

Let us hope that 2024 yields this outcome. But what is it that drives us onward? 

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This is the dramatic story of how an eccentric environmental speculation grew into a powerful global scare industry; it is the story of the corruption of science, the defrauding of taxpayers, the destruction of reliable energy, the bullying of anyone who dares question the narrative and a hidden agenda for shortages, rationing, environmental destruction and global control.

The film exposes the climate alarm as an invented scare without any basis in science. It emphatically counters the claim that current temperatures and levels of atmospheric CO2 are unusually and worryingly high. In fact, we are currently near the end of a warm interlude in an ice age and there is no evidence that changing levels of CO2 (it has changed many times) has ever 'driven' climate change in the past.

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Comedy is hard because wokeism has moved almost beyond satire. This has required me to take seriously Melbourne’s Enterprise Professor Bruce Pascoe, the ABC’s favourite Aborigine. For example, he’s been advocating that we meat-eaters cut planet-wrecking CO2 emissions by gathering roadkill for the table.

My 500th essay went up on Quadrant Online last week, all searchable on my public archive. Years ago I had in mind retiring at the 500th, but doing these things is a nice hobby for an 83-year-old in his lean and slippered pantaloon, so I’ve re-set the target to 1000.

My first QO essay was on January 30, 2012, titled, “Sinking, sinking not: Tuvalu”. Climate lies are so entrenched that in my 501st essay 12 years later, I’m still pointing out that Tuvalu’s area is expanding.[1] Even Russ Skelton’s RMIT/ABC Fact Check has joined me to combat the ‘drowning islanders’ meme. My piece included some mirthy material from the 2009 Copenhagen climate conference:

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You've probably heard the tale about a chef who killed himself over a dish gone wrong. It really did happen.
Only those intrepid souls who have failed before pot and stove know the agony of culinary defeat. The disappointment of a dish gone wrong. The sagging of spirits when a first mouthful reveals a flavour quite shocking.  To the dedicated cook, it's more embarrassing than standing on the dole queue; a greater stigma  than impotency. What do you do when you've wrecked the meal and your reputation is on the line?
A total breakdown with pathetic sobbing usually works for me. But, that sort of behaviour is for wimps; real cooks adhere to the precepts of perfection over all and thus choose the only honourable exit - suicide.

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