The New Australian

Proudly nearly Australian since 2010. "I'm not grumpy, the rest of the world is just unrealistically upbeat"

The New Australian - Proudly nearly Australian since 2010. "I'm not grumpy, the rest of the world is just unrealistically upbeat"

The most important issue in Australia

Is gay marriage, apparently.

The problem with writing or discussing same sex marriage is that, by doing so, it automatically elevates its importance relative to any other current affairs issue to a position completely out of context to reality.

This organ’s position on same sex marriage can mainly be summarised as, “yawn“.

If pushed, maybe we’d have a conversation about whether there was any legal restriction on same sex couples living together, getting joint mortgages, being parents, adopting kids, provisioning for each other in their wills, having a public ceremony to make vows to each other, etc. and, if not, what exactly does a government sanctioned certificate of their relationship provide accretive to this?

All a bit dull and irrelevant really, when one considers, say, the infant mortality rate in the Northern Territory or the shocking inability of Australians under the age of 40 to competently place apostrophes on plural possesive’s (sic).

However, there’s still some fun to be had at the expense of the self-righteous left.

The Sydney Morning Property Advertiser, for example.


Despite a referendum in Ireland“.

Ponder that for a moment….

Now replace that tagline with, “Tony Abbott is opposed to stoning to death for apostasy, despite a popular resurgence of the practice in Syria“.

Or, “Tony Abbott is opposed to Lewis Hamilton being BBC Sports Personality of the year, despite a telephone vote in the UK“.

One suspects the monkeys with the typewriters at the SMH need a quick lesson in how national legislation works.

A couple of folks who probably do know how Australian legislation is made have jumped on the bandwagon added their gravitas and respected opinions to the debate, however.


If only Australia could have the benefit of someone with Kevin Rudd’s considered and wise opinion on these matters in the office of Prime Minister then perhaps Billy and Johnny could get married and live happily ever after…. oh, hang on….

Fortunately though, Bill Shorten will ride to the rescue when he gets the top job, despite the fact that he was a government minister for 6 years and didn’t make any headway on the issue.

Next time will be different though, eh Bill?


Perhaps Bill should channel the only Prime Minister to be fired by Her Majesty and fight the next election campaign with the slogan, “It’s (now) time”.

Is this blog’s author actually Alan Jones?

Considering the number of times that the views expressed on this organ have been compared to those of Alan Jones, this author recently realised how little he knew about himself Alan Jones.

So some research was undertaken this week and a whole world of new information on the life and times of the radio talk show host was revealed.

Prior to setting out on this journey of understanding, there were only three things I could tell you about myself Alan Jones;

1. He was a gobby member of the Sydney commentariate.
2. He used to coach the Wallabies.
3. He speaks with what is probably as close to a posh accent as you’ll ever hear an Australian speak with. With the possible exception of Mike “fuck the kikes” Carlton during his LBC days in London.

It turns out that he’s in the strangest of all clubs; Australian aristocracy.

Perhaps the kindest thing one can say about Alan is that he’s a complex character who has never held an opinion too strongly and rarely without personal gain.

The new facts I’ve learned about myself Alan include;

1. Born to a miner/farmer in Queen’sland.
2. Was a teacher until the allegations started to catch up with him.
3. Became reasonably successful at monitoring the use of showers in changing rooms and also coaching sports teams.
4. Was involved in an unfortunate misunderstanding with the Met Police anit-cottaging squad in Mayfair.
5. Has difficulty distinguishing personal opinion from advertising depending on the size of the cheque.
6. Is highly-influentual to the political class; new Prime Ministers (we have a lot here) and Treasurers rush to his court to seek papal blessing.

Putting aside the obvious differences in our sexual proclivities, some of our commentators on this organ point to the libertarian, laissez-faire free market leanings expressed here as being somehow analogous to La Jones’ radio rantings.

Of course, being Australian, these commentators have confused corporatism with capitalism. This is best illustrated by examining Jones’ views on Uber, the car share application.

He would have the governement regulate and strongly-enforce restrictions on the service to protect the advertisers on his radio show public.

Whereas this organ would remove the existing regulations and let the market solve the problem.

The only conclusion to be drawn is that the author of this organ is not Alan Jones.

Right then, I’m off for a late night walk around Manli ™ which may or may not involve a furtive visit to the North Steyne public toilet.

The Origin bollocks begins

There’s a State of Oregon tipping competition, donchya know. You can select players from either of the two states in Australia where the global sport of Australian Rules Rugby is played.

Can anyone see the irony of the advertising tagline;


Reading this might help.


Ah, that’s clear then.

We’ll publish a bunch of rules with a load of caveats and wriggle room opportunities to allow you to petition us to play for whoever you damn well want.

Yep, borders mean nothing all right.

You gotta fight for the right to be nannied

We love checklists here at The New Australian Towers.

Here’s my weekday morning checklist, for example;

1. Wake up with a bastard behind the eyes.
2. Switch on espresso machine.
3. Have a double shot.
4. Shower.
5. Have a double shot.
6. Dress in clothes which are exponentially more formal than those anyone else you are likely to meet today will be wearing.
7. Have a double shot.
8. Switch off espresso ma….. ok, one last double shot.
9. Go to the office.
10. Fire enough people to justify today’s day rate.

If you live in New South Wales and you are considering hosting a small social gathering, there is another checklist you could follow.

Here’s a checklist to see if you need to complete the checklist;

1. Live in NSW?
2. Throwing a party?
3. Are you the sort of person who would definitely not notify the police in advance?

If you answered “Yes” to all three of those questions you absolutely should complete this checklist and form.

Can anyone else spot the slight flaw in the logic?





Who can be fagged enough to submit a FOI request in a month’s time to ask how many forms the cops received and, of those parties, how many needed their later attendance?

Never crash

Despite what the UN surveys might tell you, my personal experience of Australia is that there is a deep vein of corruption running through to its core.

We can all watch, with jaundice, the long-running show trials of former public officials fighting charges of selling mining rights to family members at knockdown prices or using hospital cleaners’ union subscriptions to buy rubs and tugs from hookers. But those are only the cases which make it to the surface, and look how few of those actually result in jail time.

At a corporate level it also exists. After a reasonably long career, the first approach to me to supply insider corporate espionage was when I arrived in Australia.

But even more pernicious and subtle are the every day decisions being made on the basis of petty personal gain rather than what is the correct thing to do by the shareholders.

A great example of this is a debate I am witnessing as I wander through the corridors of one large Australian organisation.

The corporate air travel contract is up for renewal. The spend is substantial, tens of millions a year, a mix of domestic and international flights to Europe, Asia and the Americas.

One airline’s flights are significantly more expensive on a like for like basis (route coverage, class of travel, seat pitch, etc.). There is no other feature to distinguish between the two airlines whatsoever.

Well, maybe one….

The two most senior members of the client’s negotiating team have a large collection of frequent flier miles invested in the incumbent’s programme.

For the last three weeks they have been calling meetings, examining spreadsheets, trying to convince themselves that the recent reclassification of the class codes used for fare types was irrelevant and generally doing everything they can to get the incumbent airline across the line.

They haven’t even had a second meeting with the other airline once the initial price list was provided.

Of course, the correct thing to do is wrap all the historical data of last year’s flights into a spreadsheet, add in a forecast for next year’s flights and ask the two airlines to give their best quote.

What’s the betting that won’t happen though?

Let’s be conservative and assume the savings opportunity is, say, quarter of a million dollars. At a corporate profit margin of 10%, that requires the revenue generating side of the business to make two and half million dollars of sales….. to pay for the flights component of a couple of dodgy blokes’ family holidays this year.

That’s what we’re talking about really, isn’t it? About five grands’ worth of flights after being converted from air miles. You’d be apoplectic if you were a shareholder and got wind of this situation.

The trouble is, of course, there’s a bastard in the mix…

Someone who needs to send a bunch of people on quite a few flights this year, keeps a tight level of control on his costs and has a recent benchmark on how much these journeys should cost.

That bastard would be me.

I’m gold status on one of those airlines and have pretty much exactly enough airmiles on the other to take the family away over Christmas this year. So I’m completely ambivalent on this decision and, mores the point, I enjoy being a nasty cunt.

The funniest thing? I’m not on their radar as a threat….. oops.

If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.

The tide is turning

Just an anecdotal but interesting nonetheless.

We entertained some friends at Chez New Australian last Saturday night (oysters, lamb shanks slow cooked in red wine jus, hasselback potatoes, tarte almond) and, towards the end of the evening, the conversation turned to matters political. Yes, we’d drunk that much wine.

One of the guests wouldn’t normally get a ticket to my meals but comes as an item with one of our friends. She’s a rampant communist who works in medical research.

After a few conversations along the lines that we often have in the comments of this organ with DaveInThePeople’sRepublicOfBalmain, where I answered the “but who will build the roads?” type responses to my suggestion that Australia might be suffering from just a smidgen too much government, we moved on to climate bollocks.

At this point Charlie started giving me the coded look we’ve agreed for, “if you upset another one of our friends with your views you are sleeping in the spare room“.

Too late, the wine had kicked in and I was all set to start spouting the usual inconvenient truths like the fact that the last year when measurable warming occurred Princess Diana was still alive and Hong Kong was a British territory.

But wait, what’s this? The Communist medical researcher offered the following opening gambit; “whenever I hear that statistic about 97% of scientists agreeing about climate change I know there’s a fraud being perpetrated; scientists can never agree on anything”.

She then went on to agree that the climate lobby are being disingenuous when they claim that the Barrier Reef is threatened by global warming, given that agricultural run-off, shipping and Crown of Thorns starfish pose far greater threats.

I shuffled off to bed mightily confused. If any of my social contacts should have parroted the usual climate bollocks line, I would have expected it would have been her. What could this mean if she, of all people, was prepared to admit that it might all be a bit exaggerated and potential good work for cleaning up the environment is being drowned out by the claims of looming temperature-related catastrophe?

If it isn’t too long a bow to draw, I wonder if it means that, behind closed doors those who truly work in science (as opposed to those in pseudo sciences like economics, alternative medicine and climate change) recognise the flaky basis of the current military-industrial complex climate change industry is built upon?

Again, it’s purely anecdotal, but the individual concerned is otherwise as collectivist and statist as they come in Australia (and that’s very collectivist and statist). The only difference is that she actually has a deep scientific background. She knows good scientific discipline when she sees it.

As we’ve pointed out here many times, the “fact” that 97% of scientists believe that climate change is real and is man made is actually a complete fib. But what would be a fascinating survey, I propose, is an anonymous survey of scientists asking whether they believe that the scientific discipline of observation, hypothesis, testing, refinement is robust in the field of climate change?

Any predictions on the percentage who would agree?



Freedom of speech

The unions representing the luvvies are fewmin’ this month, apparently.

It would seem that, in this 800th anniversary year of Magna Carta, Australian’s right to free speech is under constant threat.

People all over the county are having their dissenting voices shouted down and are living in an autocratic state of subservience where contrary opinions are dangerous things to express.

Well, certainly that’s the case at the wendyball and BBC documentary channel SBS, if this report is anything to go by.

It’s a witchhunt, I tells ye.

It’s amusing to witness grown adults confusing the freedom to say whatever you want with not accepting the concomitant responsibility and consequences.

A good example from the comments of this organ came from our correspondent from the wrong side of the ANZAC Bridge;

Did he deserve to lose his job? If we accept what happened to him as just isn’t that effectively curtailing his freedom of speech? Threaten most people with total loss of income you’re effectively gagging them, aren’t you? In this context does freedom of speech become the domain of the privileged or the retired?

DaveinthePeople’sRepublicofBalmain was discussing the plonker who, presumably deep in his cups, tweeted a bunch of anti-ANZAC sentiment on Twitter on the holiest of holies in Australia; make up your own version of history day ANZAC Day.

Another SBS luvvie lost her job after sharing a report critical of her employer on Creepbook.

Let’s just take a step back for a moment. Are these two freedom fighters currently languishing in the basement of the Federal Police building chained to a red hot radiator and having electric shocks administered to their genitals?

Nope; they’re queuing up a Centrelink behind Mike Carlton.

There’s a reason why you and I don’t wander through the office dishing out Malcolm Tuckerisms to every idiot who annoys the crap out of us (people who read this who have worked with me might be amused by my claim of innocence), and it isn’t because we don’t have freedom of speech.

It’s because we have a contract of employment with some reasonably clear guidelines on what is acceptable behaviour and what will see you spending more time with your family.

Let’s be clear; men didn’t fight two world wars against dictators for the right for you to have a bitch about your right to remain employed after whining about your employer’s editorial programming decisions on Facebook.

If they fought those wars for any rights it would more likely be the right for someone not employed by SBS to whine about their programming.
We diminish the rights we have reclaimed over those 800 years by conflating them with petty complaints and whines about the normal process of being held responsible for our actions. You have the freedom to say what you want, yes. But if you work for me, I have the freedom to not pay you for your opinion. If I am forced to employ you, that would be fascism.

Top of your game

We’ve had a bit of fun over previous discussions here pointing out that, by learning where someone lives and what it is they do for a living, one can gauge whether they are at the top of their field or not.

Of course, there are many other factors at play to determine where someone chooses to live; family, lifestyle, health, a partner’s career, etc.

But that’s not the point of this conversation. This post is going to examine real life examples of people in the public eye, their base location and whether their talent is waxing or waning.

First of all, lets look at some recent immigrants to Australia;

Exhibit A – The New Australian, yours truly.
Well, I’m ploughing my chosen furrow very well, thanks. I’ve got multiple clients and making a good living from the work I do. It’s not as challenging as the gigs I undertook in London though, in fact, it’s all a bit too easy to look good here.
Conclusion – Not top of my game

Exhibit B – Ben Elton
Obviously, Ben Elton is a cunt (I love that this organ often is the first hit in Google for the words, “Ben”, “Elton” and “Cunt”) but he has had a stellar career. In recent times this career has taken a few knocks. Actually, to be more accurate, he died like a dog on live TV.
Conclusion – Not top of his game.

Exhibit C – Leo Sayer
“Going for a Leo” is famously Cockney Rhyming Slang for an “all dayer” in the pub. His biggest hits were in the 1970s, which probably goes some way to explain how he’s ended up in Glebe, a place which attracts people who pine back to the golden era of Communism.
Conclusion – Not at the top of his game.

Exhibit D – Marcia Hines
This may come as a surprise to Australians, but Marcia isn’t some Motown legend who has graciously moved here to help Australians learn the concept of black people who don’t live in abject poverty, handouts and petrol abuse. She’s been here since her teenage years. In fact, the whole American accent must be about as genuine as Dick Van Dyke’s cockney. If she was any good she’d be the dead wife of Bobby Brown, one assumes.
Conclusion – Not at the top of her game.

Now let’s look at those who’ve moved the other way;

Exhibit E – Nicole Kidman
She’s had a cracking career since leaving these shores. Admittedly, there have been some low points, being married to a diminutive Scientologist, for example. Both her life and career are back on the highs now and she can command high fees and take the pick of the roles.
Conclusion – At the top of her game.

Exhibit F – Kate Blanchet
Like all celebrities, she’s a bit of a confused lefty thumbsucker, expecting us to reduce our carbon footprint while she scoots back and forth across the Pacific in seat 1A, but her career has gone exceptionally well since waving goodbye to Australia.
Conclusion – At the top of her game.

Exhibit G – Rolf Harris
Edwina Currie famously stated that, “there’s no such thing as bad publicity” just prior to being fired. Aussie Rolf has had more publicity in the twilight years of his career than all the previous decades combined. The opportunity for spin off projects such as his prison diaries, art works produced during incarceration, in-depth interviews with Hello! magazine about his gay-rape hell, etc. mean that Rolf’s last few years could be highly lucrative.
Conclusion – At the top of his game, despite being on the bottom bunk and biting his pillow most nights.

I think the case is closed. If you find yourself living in Brisbogan, a seaside town where you can’t go in the sea Cairns, Shagyerdadalaide, Melbourne, Sydney or 1988 Perth, you are, by definition, not at the top of your game.

(Waves to every Australian journalist, CEO and rugby player)

The lunatics have taken over the asylum

Sometimes our mainstream media give themselves away, they completely signal their malevolent intentions which had previously been opaque to us.

In the space of just a few days, theirABC have done just that twice.

Please don’t dismiss what follows as just some right wing ranty conspiracy theory either. Think instead, how these two examples would have been presented if they were opinions expressed by an extreme right wing commentator or, less likely, a libertarian (when was the last time a libertarian was given airtime)?


Exhibit A; by being a good parent you are disadvantaging the children who have shit parents.



Those of us with a slightly more mature and realistic view of the world might revise the statement to something more accurate, say, “shit parents disadvantage their children“.

T’was always thus, surely?

How does theirABC think we might solve this problem? That’s right, restrict the behaviour of the better parents.

In the words of Old Holborn;

Socialists want nobody to be rich, Libertarians want everybody to be rich. Choose wisely

Go back and read the article in full and see if you can keep your mouth closed and your chin from hitting the desk.

Exhibit B; Q and A gave airtime to “controversial thinker”, Peter Singer, this week.

I must admit to not having watched this as I have found the cost of replacement TV screens to be quite expensive (I throw things at them if Q and A is on). I did read the write up afterwards however.

Peter seems to be the Socialist version of a radio shock jock; he gets paid to say something outrageous to spark a reaction. The fact that people choose to take offence at shock jocks or their left wing equivalent is enough to keep them employed/funded depending on whether they have a job in broadcasting or live their life in academia.

Some of Singer’s arguments are really quite remarkable. I particularly enjoyed reading his Malthusian logic supporting abortion. We have a solution for Malthusians already, remember.

His suggestion that we extend human rights to animals is a cracker too.

I’ve met loads of people with really daft ideas which would require taking rights and freedoms away from free citizens and ultimately lead us down the road to serfdom. Fortunately, none of them have ever been in a position of power and haven’t been given a public platform to widely express these views.

One has to ask what the motivation is for a state broadcaster to give these two examples that wider publicity and exposure? Quite how relevant the 2nd one is to a discussion programme on current affairs is particularly puzzling.

Of course, the punchline to the joke is that you paid for this.

Keep voting everybody, it will make all the difference…. one day.

Whither Adelaide?

Business travel is shite. We’ve explained why before.

In a remarkable example of not learning one’s own lesson, I’m returning home this evening from a third visit to Shagyerdadailade in four weeks.

Some random impressions of Adelaide and particularly her *cough* CBD;

1. Is Adelaide Australia’s methamphetamine capital? It certainly feels like it; every third pedestrian has the unmistakable sunken cheeks and rotten teeth look. Who can blame them though, what else does one do for a hobby here?

2. The locals employed in our office are a bit crap. They make me pine after the slick professionals I’ve met in Brisbogan. Fortunately, this situation will be resolved soon as they won’t be employed by us for much longer.

3. These locals also insist on eating out for lunch and taking exactly one hour. Very admirable work/life balance but you’re not fucking French.

4. Days of the week work differently here, or they do at the restaurant we tried to eat at last week which advertised on their website as being open 7 days a week but didn’t include Mondays in that number.

5. The airport is the least busiest I’ve ever visited. Imagine if they’d filmed a scene of 28 Days Later in Stanstead Airport. When are they predicting the sudden rush will occur?

6. The King’s Head on King William Street serves good beer.

7. It *really* is full of churches. Which suggests there’s a lot of god botherers. In fact, at the table next to me at breakfast this morning sat four middle-aged men discussing their bible study class. Rock and roll.

8. Once you’ve dumped your vegetarian colleagues, Gaucho’s on Gouger Street serves great steak and Malbec (h/t Bardon).


Good steak, wine and beer aside, Shagyerdadalaide is a bit provincial, dull and bollocks. The UK equivalent would probably be Norwich.

Anyway, it looks like I might be down here again next Monday and Tuesday so if you’re a local and want to take issue with these opinions, I’ll let you know where I’ll be drinking.

Which proper noun is missing?

What word is missing

Oh, that’s right; they don’t want to fall foul of this law.

By the way, that law is just another example of the consequence of Australia’s surfeit of legislative parliaments per capita; why not just use the existing copyright/trademark legislation?

Very awkwardly-worded Twitter profile too.

All that’s missing is a red nose

There’s a saying I helpfully repeat to people in the office who dress in a manner that does them a professional disservice; dress for the job you want, not the one you’ve got.

One can only assume, then, that Malcolm Turnbull is learning to juggle and ride a unicycle;


Always a good idea to have your mooring serviced

Those of you who have crewed HMS Dulcibella with me or wish to crew her in the future can be assured that she survived last week’s storms with nothing worse than a flat battery due to a very full bilge (I counted 8 buckets of rain water as I manually emptied her).

Not quite the case for some others in the area though.

This one sank at a jetty after being rammed by another which had slipped its mooring. The owner was uninsured so did a deal with these salvage guys which I suspect involved no money changing hands but the registration being transferred on condition they refloat and remove.


This one broke free from her mooring (the bouy is still tied to the bow). It looks as though the nylon link rope broke. I bet the owner now regrets being cheap about an item which costs about $100.


There for the grace of Posiedon go I.

Well, just good timing really as I had the mooring lifted, serviced and a new 28mm tail rope added only two weeks prior to the storm.


The tyranny of distance

If you’re a boxing fan in Australia, you can watch this weekend’s big event on Pay Per View for $59.95.

If you’re in the UK, however, that’ll be £19.95 or about $38.

Ponder that for a moment.

Same fight, same infrastructure to deliver it, same broadcast rights, maybe a slight difference in corporate overheads (but nothing that would be material to this event) yet Australian viewers have to pay a 35% premium over the Poms.

Obviously this is due the vast distance that the fight has to be broadcast and a high import duty imposed by the ATO for television programmes that compete unfairly with our true blue Aussie programmes. Also, the high wages demanded by the unions representing the “wharfies” mean that the cost of offloading the bits and bytes of the broadcast from the container ship have to be passed on to the consumer.

Yes, that must be it.

This is one of those situations where people with a somewhat poor grasp of markets point to a supposed failure of the free market and offer a government-imposed regulation solution to fix it.

When, in reality, this is pure supply and demand at work;

- The product is unique (this particular fight, televised, live).
- Similar products are perceived as significantly inferior to the discerning consumer (this fight at a later time or a different fight or a different sport).
- There is a monopoly of supply of this particular product and no cost-effective way of receiving the same product illegally (yes, there are streaming websites but the quality is poor and a high chance of disconnection during the fight).
- The local Australian market can sustain the higher price point, the UK market can’t.

Fox Sports are still cheeky cunts though.

(h/t) Tim Newman.

Crimes for which Australia still has the death penalty

This organ received no response from the Indonesian Minister of Justice following our helpful suggestion to assist with setting up the The New Australian Offshore Processing Solution ™.

So mote it be, as the Police might say.

In the meanwhile though, as a reminder to all the commentariat who have emoted in the media this week about the inhumanity, pointlessness and duplicity of the execution of the ringleaders of The Bali 9, here’s a list of some offences which still carry the death penalty in Australia;

- Jaywalking in front of buses.
- Late-night climbing of cranes after leaving the pub.
- Not having a working smoke alarm.
- Drinking petrol and then having a smoke.
- Twatting around on a high balcony while pissed.

You can probably think of many more offences punisbable by death in Australia because, as demonstrated by the fact that you are still around and reading this, you avoid commiting these crimes every day of your life.

Similarly, it’s unlikely that you’ll ever wake up one morning and think, “hmm, maybe I’ll fly to Indonesia, walk past all the signs at the airport which explain there is a death penalty for drug smuggling and then attempt to smuggle drugs.“.

There is a death penalty for gross stupidity. Often, one wishes it could be applied a little more efficiently.

Still it continues

A link to this utter bollocks arrived in the inbox last night.

When will it ever end? They even manage to get a reference in to Simpson the deserter and his donkey.


Pray tell us, recruitment parasites at Robert Half, how exactly is sitting at a computer in an air conditioned office doing spreadsheet wanking similar to being shot at in a trench?


How enlightening, typo included.

Next week; the four lessons you can take from Hiroshima and Nagasaki on how to influence key stakeholders in the office environment.

Was Alan Partridge unavailable?

This advert is currently being shown on national TV in Australia.

One can’t help thinking that when the CEO explains how SEW Eurodrive is all about “solutions”, there’s a big opportunity missed to throw in a “big fish, small fish, cardboard box” rave move.

If anyone wonders how Woolworths’ marketing department let their recent Anzac faux pas occur they need only look at this advert and realise everyone involved in the process to produce this were unable to simply state that it looks a bit crap.

Think about how many people might have mentioned to Robert Merola that he’s a great MD but he’s somewhat lacking the TV personality stakes. The board members, the internal marketing department, the advertising company, the production company, the folk at the TV advertising sales department….. his family.

In fact, it reminded me very much of the sentiment expressed by the legendary Dennis Pennis to Hugh “don’t report on my private life but please plug my movie” Grant;


The ultimate sacrifice

Must surely be a tattoo in Comic Sans font.

Brenton (yes, that’s a first name in Australia, apparently) Lawrence reveals the significance of his tattoo.

Is it significant because;

A. Before his career in rugby league he served in the armed forces? Or,

B. He comes from a family with a proud history of military service or there was an important relative who served in an important conflict? Or,

C. A close friend was killed or injured in the armed forces?

Nah. the “significance” of the tattoo is that he quite liked tattoos and nearly joined the air force as ground crew.

Well, if you put it like that then.

(reaches for phone, dials a secret number beginning with country code “44″) “Get me the Ministry of Defence, Whitehall. Victoria Cross to be delivered to Brookvale Oval in time for kick off, please. STAT”.

Scan 11

(apologies, I honestly thought there wouldn’t be another ANZAC bollocks post but the paper was on the doorstep when I got back from surfing the dawn service I attended)

Lest we forget to blame the Poms

Last post, honest.

We’ve had some fun over the last few weeks poking a stick at the inappropriate, over-exuberant and excessively opportunistic commercialisation of a day of remembrance.

All of the examples documented here are vulgar in their own special way but perhaps the most despicable form of hijacking of what most other mature countries would consider a day of quiet contemplation is when the sacrifice of the fallen is used for shameless political point-scoring.

There are sadly many rent-a-soundbite candidates in Australian public life who are more than willing to step across the line of credibility, shame and good taste to put forward their own personal agenda. Surprisingly, Senator Hanson-Young (of the Hanson-Youngs of Surrey) hasn’t done so yet, but the day is still young.

No, our old favourite, Peter Fitzsimons, has selflessly volunteered to make the ultimate sacrifice while on an all expenses paid free holiday to Turkey for the Sydney Morning Herald Property Advertiser.

Don’t follow this link and read the article unless you particularly want to annoy yourself today.

Let the headline do the talking;


What the article goes on to explain is, while digging through correspondence from the British Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, he found a line in a letter to his mistress that suggested that he’d share the plan for Gallipoli and seek “approval” to commence the campaign from his mistress.

Ergo, Fitzsimons concludes, the final decision to commit the troops, ships and resources to the invasion force was made by a 27 year old floosie, not the War Council. Furthermore, this illustrates quite how disposable the Australian and New Zealand troops were in the eyes of the arrogant and incompetent British (who sent exponentially more of their own to Gallipoli). Therefore, we are self-righteously lectured, Australia’s leadership can never cede control to the leadership of other nations.

Like they did in Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq, presumably?

A bow as long as this hasn’t been drawn since Agincourt.

There is little purpose served by bothering to point out the lunacy of Fitzsimons’ statements of “facts” and today really isn’t the day to do so.

And that’s the point.

Choosing the morning of the 100th anniversary of the invasion of Gallipoli to remind everyone that he believes Australia should be a fully-independent republic with her own flag and having a snipe at long-dead English to do so is the epitome of vulgar and uncouth at the end of a long month of vulgarity and uncouthness.

But who gives a fuck; we’ve all been drinking since 7am.

It’s what they would have wanted.

Operation ‘Invade The Dardanelles’ (in church hall if wet)

Remember Camp Freddy Gallipoli?

It’s a once in a lifetime chance to be at one, in spirit at least, with the brave, fallen heroes of 100 years ago and camp out under the stars with a fully-licensed bar and hot food.

Well, it’s bad news, I’m afraid. It’s been called off because there’s a chance of a shower this weekend.

Frontier Nation


Here’s the forecast.



Ooh, looks a bit rough eh? Temperatures could get as low as 12 degrees, or “summer” as we call it in England.

Australian ANZAC bollocks has officially jumped the shark.

(h/t AussiePride)

UPDATE: Obviously there’s no bloody health and safety issue with temperatures of 12 degrees and a predicted rainfall of just 1mm. They’ve had to claim HSE issues to be able to claim on the insurance after they decided that they didn’t want people’s boots to cut the wet turf up.

SEO Powered by Platinum SEO from Techblissonline