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 truth about beer

As disingenuous mendacity goes, this is right up there with, “Saddam can deploy weapons of mass destruction within 45 minutes“, “the cheque is in the post” and “of course I won’t come in your mouth“.

This isn’t some CAMRA-esque campaign for organic ales, but a marketing exercise for Nathan Lion Nathan.

Why should anyone be pleasantly surprised that their beer doesn’t have preservatives in it? For hundreds of years, the basic recipe has been; water, malted grain, hops and yeast. The hops perform a bittering role but also preserve the finished product to a certain extent. If you bottle it into dark and sterile glass you shouldn’t need any other preservatives.

By the way, that’s another tip for you; never drink a beer in a clear bottle; light kills beer almost as quickly as heat and infection. That’s probably one of the main reasons those beers are marketed as tasting better with a slice of lime stuck in the top, just like those sophisticated Mexicn drinkers have it….

Most beers are preservative free. It’s not preservatives that make the beer awful hangover-inducing piss, it’s the fusel oils.

What are fusel oils? They are types of alcohol produced when the mash stage of brewing is undertaken at higher than normal temperatures. The usual mash temperature of 67 degrees centigrade extracts the optimum sugar type from the grain. Above this, more sugar is produced (therefore allowing a stronger beer to be fermented) but with the result that fusel oils are also produced.

Brewers call fusel oil, “fighting alcohol“. There’s a load of it in Bundaberg Rum, for example.

Why would you brew at this higher temperature then?

Cost, obviously; brewing at a higher temperature allows the same volume of alcohol to be produced but in a concentrated form. Lion Nathan’s main commercial beers will be brewed to be a few percentage points higher in alcohol by volume and are then diluted down to the requisite 5% mark. Yes, they water down their beer.

The duty thresholds for beer are 0-3% ABV, 3% to 10% ABV and then anything above 10% (although a 10% ABV beer is unlikely to taste of much else other than rocket fuel). Based on those thresholds, it’s interesting that the vast majority of beers for sale are precisely 5% ABV. Presumably that’s driven by consumer choice and buying behaviour but it tends to suggest people don’t value slightly lower strength beer with richer and more subtle flavours. Who knows?

Anyway,your favourite beers were always preservative free. They’re still shite though.


The New Australian’s politcal litmus test

Are you an Australian voter? First of all, why on earth do you bother? I don’t, because I know it won’t make the slightest difference to how much of my earnings are stolen from me or how they are spent “on my behalf“.

Secondly, how does the decision process work when you choose how to draw a cock vote?

If you don’t really have a defined methodology to choose your representative, let this organ offer one to you. Before we explain this foolproof test though, let’s ask a theoretical question;

What two things do all these countries have in common?

Bahrain, Bangladesh, Bolivia (Plurinational State of), Burkina Faso, China, Cuba, Djibouti, Egypt, Indonesia, Jordan, Kyrgyzstan, Nicaragua, Nigeria, Pakistan, Philippines, Qatar, Russian Federation, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, South Africa.

The obvious first common factor is they are all places to live if the rule of law, rights of the individual and protection of personal property are concepts you don’t particularly value to any great extent or require on a day to day basis. Life is pretty cheap in most of those places and there are few on that list which could suggest, without blushes, that they operate a fair and objective legal system.

The second point of commonality is that they all voted in favour of the UN Human Rights Council’s 2009 motion on “Combating defamation of religions“, which was passed 20 to 17 with 8 abstentions.

A reminder, for those who don’t keep track of the UN HRC motions, that this one had this classic clause (number 7);

Expresses deep concern in this respect that Islam is frequently and wrongly associated with human rights violations and terrorism and, in this regard, regrets the laws or administrative measures specifically designed to control and monitor Muslim minorities, thereby stigmatizing them and legitimizing the discrimination they experience.

Which, as Orwellian double-speak goes, is a classic. “War is Peace”, an’ all that.

The noun, Islamophobia is mentioned a few times too. I struggle with seeing Islamophobia as a bad thing, frankly; phobia is from the Greek for fear. In this case the fear is of followers of Islam reading verses demanding that they kill unbelievers and then going on to, erm, kill unbelievers. As phobias go, it seems quite rational therefore.

Versions of this motion have been passed in the UN HRC several times since with the usual suspects above giving it their support.

Still, what a bunch of loony states do to justify the suppression of free speech in their jurisdictions is entirely their business. What interests me is what our domestic politicians’ position would be on this. Given that Australia doesn’t currently have a seat on the UN HRC, we can’t be certain but that’s the crux of this litmus test; ask yourself whether any of these folk would sign up to that motion or not;

GetShorty TurnbullshitDiNobody

Don Johnson in Sydney

What can’t be seen on this photo is that he had a Boer War-era beard, a pocket square that didn’t match his tie and was wearing mirrored Ray Ban Aviators.

One imagines that he looked in a full-length mirror this morning and did the holster draw movement with his hands.

Sydney Morning Herald Sweepstake

Right then punters, the book is open on which of the Sydney Morning Herald churnalists will write the obligatory “this has got nothing to do with Islam” column tonight.

Bets close at midnight.

The prize on offer is beyond value*.

$1.10 – Peter “I wear red because I’m the man in red” Fitzsimons. “Australia; bring it in close, gather round, listen; we’re better than this, we’re all Australians, so let’s all drive down to Lakemba and share a beer with our Muslim mates. Get a proper cab back though because that Uber nonsense is killing Aussie jobs“.

$6.55 – Anne Summers. “We need more safe spaces and to be mindful of the non-binary nature of gender. Also, why does everyone giggle at my name in the UK?“.

$52.20 – Michael Pascoe. “Baron Rothschild correctly advised to ‘buy when there was blood in the streets’. Now is the time to invest in 2 bedroom apartments in Perth, Melbourne and Western Sydney.

$76.10 – John Birmingham. “We need to embrace diversity. I live in Queen’sland, so you don’t need to tell me about racism and discrimination AND I have to live with being nearly the 3rd funniest Australian called Birmingham. Sigh. At least I’m young enough to carry off wearing soft leather jackets without looking wanky.“.

$100 – Ben Cubby. “Ultimately, this tragedy is a direct consequence of the failure of the international community to address climate change“.


A definition of insanity is repeating an experiment and expecting a different result.

Albert Einstein (probably misattributed)

*”I’m sorry we can’t return any of your pictures but we give a small prize for those that we do show“.

Thank you, but no

I am now officially Australian.

A few weeks ago I attended the requisite ceremony, sang the anthem, had the lobotomy, forgot how to use apostrophe’s (see!) and received a certificate, myrtle pot plant and a plastic flag (made in China).

In the welcome pack was also a voter registration form, helpfully pre-populated with most of the personal data needed. All one needed to do to become a registered voter was to sign at the bottom.

Think about the irony of that for a moment; they’ve made registering to vote as simple as possible so that even the stupid can do it.

Isn’t that completely the opposite of how the process should be? Solving a quadratic equation, writing a thousand word analysis of Adam Smith’s On the Wealth of Nations or being able to tie a bowline in under ten seconds after being shown how to twice would surely be the bare minimum thresholds against which voting rights are handed out.


The “are you able to use a pen?” test isn’t exactly producing stunning outcomes in Australian politics, is it?


It’s almost a Groucho Marx-esque situation; anyone who actually wants to be legally-obliged to vote attend a polling station under threat of violence* in the desperate illusion that whichever box you tick makes the slightest difference to how the country, state, local authority is going to be managed, is probably the last person who should be given the vote.


No, on reflection, I’ve considered your kind offer at the ceremony and the subsequent reminder letter you sent me (again, with a pre-completed form) and I’ve decided not to bother. Given that a comprehensive search suggests that the fines for not registering are rarely, if ever, issued, I’m willing to live with the risk and will chuckle at every further reminder mail you deliver.


Best of luck with firing the next sitting democratically-elected Prime Minister in 18 months’ time, by the way.


*If you’re about to go to the comments section and complain that it’s only a fine, not a threat of violence, try not paying one. No, YOU fuck off.

This is how the Roman Empire ended

People are dying in the thousands in Syria, tensions are rising between nations in the South China Sea, democracy in the USA has been replaced with oscillating   Clinton/Bush dynasties and yet this is what we employ people to be concerned about;

No, seriously

She didn’t sing the national anthem because she wasn’t wearing the sponsor’s shoes?

Personally, I struggle to understand why the national anthem needs to be sung before a horse race anyway. Sure, there’s a few horses and riders from overseas but it’s not like it’s pitched as the Davis Cup of horse racing, is it?

Regardless, a national anthem carries a lot of meaning to many. Rightly or wrongly, people respect their national anthem and, one suspects, would be less than impressed by petty footwear-related disputes disrupting its solemn rendition.

The rest of the article further demonstrates to me why horse racing is in constant danger of disappearing up its own arse;

Good to hear it’s the important things in focus over in the marketing department, eh?

Anyway, we were all a bunch lazy bastards this year and snapped zero pikeys or prossies during the race that stops national productivity.

Finally, keen observers will have noticed the increasing durations between posts on this organ. As mentioned earlier, this is due to a combination of an increase in paid work and a side project of a book currently under authorship.

If you wish to keep up to date with further blog posts as they happen, I suggest subscribing to the email alerts (top right of this page) rather than keep returning to the web page only to be disappointed.

In addition, any subscribers to the email list will receive a sneak peek in the new year, once the sub-editing has been complete. The subject of the tome is relevant to my professional life but hopefully will be of interest to most people (otherwise the publisher is going to be highly disappointed).

Pikey and Prostitute Day

Gosh, this came round quickly.

Today is the other special dress up day for adults (the first being ANZAC Day – sports shirts and face paint at remembrance services) in the Australian calendar where where women dress like hookers and men dig out the nylon court appearance suit and plastic slip on shoes.

We’ll be running a rolling blog post here if you want to email in the best pictures of the Festival of Pikeyness or “The Race that Stops a Nation“.

Send your photos to thenewaustralian at or, if you’re a tweeting twat, @thnewaustralian.

I’m sorry we can’t return any of your pictures but we give a small prize for those that we do show


Useful idiots

As always, this organ finds itself questioning the narrative being pushed in the regulated press, especially when the facts don’t seem to support the message.


Climate change, for example; I own nautical charts of La Maddelena in Sardinia which clearly show that the surveyed depths have not changed since the area was first surveyed in the 19th century by one H. Nelson. Better still, I’ve dropped anchor there and seen for myself that the depth sounder correlates to within 0.1m of the chart. If the sea level is rapidly rising due to melting polar caps, the melt water hasn’t reached the northern Mediterranean yet.


We digress.


Useful Idiots is a term first coined by the Russians. Eventually it became the standard withering put down of the sort of person who’s recently been elected (I cast my vote!) as the leader of the UK’s Labour Party.


Sadly, it very neatly describes much of the regulated media in Australia. Not just the usual suspects over on the civil service media ABC. This chap, for example, is employed over on Murdoch TV as a political commentator. He’s even got a PhD in political commentary. Think about that as qualification for a moment and consider which Golgafrinchan Ark that job will be evacuated on.





The latest victim of Australian banana republic’s habit of regicide gave a speech in London this week where he suggested that encouraging refugees and migrants (and yes, there’s a big difference between the two) is somewhat irresponsible and dangerous journeys need to be discouraged. This advice is obviously somewhat overdue for Angela Merkin but Brits can still benefit from it.


If only there were some empirical evidence to suggest whether this policy results in fewer deaths? Oh, hang on.


In the meantime, let’s have a think about why refugees from war zones don’t claim asylum in the first, second, third or even fourth country they cross into after leaving the immediate danger zone;



Happy St. Crispin’s Day

For Jansen.



….and gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves acursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whilst any speaks, that fought with us upon St. Crispin’s day!

(With apologies to email subscribers; fat thumbs today).

Peak Fairfax

(checks calendar before blogging, confirms yesterday wasn’t March 31st)

This must surely be the moment where the ever-declining “Fairfax” brand takes its first step towards becoming an adjective;


fairfax (adj.) “fur-fucks“; of the quality of being able to maintain an opinion whilst remaining completely undisturbed by significant evidence to the contrary. 

Example; “he spent three Fairfax hours talking to her at the party in the hope that, despite her crew cut, Doc Martens, lumberjack shirt and KD Lang tattoo, she might come home and have sex with him“.

If this is a parody, it’s fucking genius.

The article brilliantly navigates around the obvious problem that the IPCC’s own dataset shows no global warming since 1998, then warms us up (try the veal) to the idea that martial law will be a good response to all that climate-induced rioting around Australia and her neighbours, warns about Australian military airfields threatened by rising sea levels (How many are at sea level? Who knows? That would require the journalist to check facts) yet omits to mention how quickly these sea rises are happening (clue; exactly the same rate as the last 200 years) and warns about the ice melting in the Arctic but forgets to mention the significantly-increased cover at the Antarctic.

Want sources to the counter claims I’ve just made above? Go and do your own damn research, I’m bored of arguing with people who apparently understand The Scientific Method apart from the bit which stresses the importance of observation of results.

Alternatively, click the “Climatism” category to the right of this page.

Peak Fairfax.

Not *that* smart, really is it?

There’s at least a couple of regular readers of this organ who can clarify this for me….


I was wandering around the Sydney banking area last week and chuckled at the description above this ATM;




Of course, it reminded me of the fact that Queen’sland has been known to refer to itself as “the smart state” (does that mean Tasmanian number plates must have the opposite claim?), but it did make me wonder what was so special about an ATM which could deliver money or be used to deposits cheques and cash? They’ve been around for decades, surely?


This webpage suggests otherwise.

Innovation innit

Is this really a new development in the journey of Australian banking? Please put me straight in the comments section.

Go on then, Huge Ackman, you pay for it

The great thing about being paid loads of money to spend most of your daylight hours eating macro-organic superfoods prepared by one of your many chefs before hitting the gym with a celebrity personal trainer to work only on the definition of your abs, pecs and biceps is that it saves a lot of neurons which would otherwise have been wasted on navigating life with a proper job, organising the school run, grocery shopping and coping with the dreadful ennui of middle age.


The spare cranial capacity that this frees up can be used for all sorts of useful activities which project the human race forward to new possibilities. Millennia ago switching from the hunter/gatherer existence to an agrarian subsistence gave the homo sapiens the luxury of time to nurture and benefit from philosophers such as Aristotle, Socrates and Plato. Similarly, giving a truckload of cash to pretty people who pretend they are lupine superheroes in front of a camera for a couple of weeks a year allows incredible leaps forward to be made for the benefit of all mankind. 

Australian “slebs” are some of the greatest thinkers in this regard; Cate Blanchett, for example. Stop laughing at the back.

Witness; Huge Ackman calling for us to not close down stop paying for remote communities to live hundreds of kilometres from schools, hospitals, food production centres, jobs, child protection professionals, drug and alcohol addiction support and beardy hipsters measuring coffee by the gram/humidity/density quotient.

Of course, in these days of virtue signalling, one doesn’t need to do anything tangible at all to claim the terra nullus of the high moral ground, all one need do is have your photo taken with some writing on a piece of paper, it’s aS good as actually doing something tangible;


Obviously, those of us without as much spare cerebral capacity on our hands as Huge might wonder how sustainable it might be to provide financial support from the public purse to maintain, museum-like, a community of citizens living in third world conditions?

But, with Huge’s intervention, maybe we needn’t concern ourselves with such petty and and vulgar matters as to where the money is going to come from?

Huge Ackman is worth about $150m. It costs around $85k per person to provide council services to a remote location.

So, if he cared deeply about the issue he could contribute enough for 1,700 people to maintain their connection with the land. Obviously, it’s not fair to expect him to bankrupt himself so he’d have to work out how many he felt he could afford to pay for but, presumably, it’s a number between zero and a thousand.

So how much has he chucked into the “stop closing remote communities” related charidees to date?

Oh, that’s awkward.


Flying half mast - why?

We’ve not had one of these for a while.

It never ceases to amaze me how many suits in Sydney don’t fit lengthwise in the leg department.

What conclusions can we draw from this phenomenon?

Are there any additional explanations than these possibilities?

  1. These men all go to the same gym at lunchtime and get dressed in someone else’s suit by accident.
  2. These men have no partners to prevent them from leaving the house dressed like a twat in the morning.
  3. These men have partners who don’t give a shit that they leave the house dressed like a twat in the morning.
  4. Suits in Sydney are bought, sight unseen, over the internet.
  5. It’s a conscious fashion statement, like Boer War-era beards and penny farthings and I’ve simply not spotted that people are laughing at me for owning trousers which reach my shoes.


Responding to stimuli

Although this organ might be blogging less frequently (paying work has increased exponentially and there’s a book being written in what little spare time is left over), there’s still fun to be had over on Twitter.

Twitter is great for two reasons; firstly, it’s a far better source of accurate and immediate news than any of the traditional dead tree press.

Secondly, for the first time in modern history, we have the ability to tell the famous and the infamous exactly what we think of them. Some might call this “trolling”. Personally, I think that’s just a silly noun to describe disagreeing.


Show me on the doll where then nasty words on the internet hurt you.


I had a little fun last night reminding myself that economists (was there ever a more ridiculous profession; make a prediction, be proven wrong, claim special circumstances, get paid anyway) who are followers of the paedophile John Maynard Keynes have an unwritten rule that they must never discuss the 1920/21 depression and it’s proven method of quick recovery.




Twatter1 Twatter2

“Danny” (real name David, he’s making a pun about a Wendyballer with a similar name) Blanchflower was on the Bank of England Monetary Policy Committee and was responsible for the moral hazard that is Quantitative Easing.

It is remarkable that, to my knowledge, none of the big names of the Keynes’ deceit have ever written on the subject or given a straight answer in an interview to the question, why what worked in the 20s couldn’t work today?

If there’s a source showing that Krugman, Bernanke, et al have ever addressed the inconvenient truth, I’d be very grateful for a link in the comments section.

For you, ze war is over, Tommy

Some of us in Chez TNA will be watching the remaining matches of the Rugby World Cup as an independent observer, sadly.

That’s bad, of course, but at least I can go through this week without that horrid sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that an entire country are experiencing right now.

Which country are we referring to?

The sports page of the New Zealand Herald gives a clue.


Is that five articles referring to the nightmare in Cardiff in 2007? Hehehe!

Go for the bonus point, Ruchie!

Do house prices ever fall?

No, never. NEVER. And absolutely not here“.

Sandra Toia-Wilson (of the Toia-Wilsons of Surrey)…..blah blah blah…… on the Northern Beaches for 15 years in the years when Australia hasn’t had a recession or high unemployment

Bad day in the office

This was predicted by this organ.

It doesn’t make it any easier to take though.

My best case scenario now is a France vs. New Zealand final, with the frogs winning. It’s THAT bad.

Sadly, I suspect it’s a Bledisloe Cup for the final though. That’s a horrid thought.

I’m visiting some failing strugglers over in the Perth offices this week. My mood is unlikely to improve.

In the words of Mr. T; I pity the fools.

Pretty please, with sugar on the top; clean the fucking car

Regular readers may have spotted that the frequency of posts to this organ has dropped in recent weeks. This is not due to a lack of targets to ridicule in Australia but a sudden increase in the volume of paying work.

One of the activities I’ve been busy with is being the corporate trouble-shooter for one of my clients. It would be overstating things to suggest that I’ve been flying in to international destinations, banging heads and flying out again. The reality is more along the lines of driving to some locations, listing a bunch of problems, finding out who/where the bottleneck is and using a mix of bribery and blackmail to unblock them.

Actually, mainly blackmail; as the KGB understood, blackmail is the far more effective form of persuasion.

At the risk of sounding immodest (Who? Me? Never), I’m a tad expensive to be used for this purpose, but I like to think of myself as the corporate equivalent of a high class hooker; we can sit on the bed holding hands and talking about your wife or do something else but the price is still the same.

One of the issues I unblocked this week was delivery of equipment to a new business we’d set up recently. The brains trust running it had made the mistake of thinking that a single manager signing off on purchase orders was a smart move to control costs. It is, until you want to increase the pace at which you’re operating, at which point he or she is sitting on 200 of the damn things a day and has no idea what they’re approving but they know that if they don’t they will stop the business.

People’s reaction to my help can be mixed. As an ice-breaker, I use the quote, “the 9 scariest words in the English language are, ‘I’m from head office and I’m here to help‘”.

One of the people who is part of the problem offered an unfortunately similar reaction to my assistance as Vincent Vega does in this clip….. with a suitably Winston Wolfe-esque retort from me.

Generation Cupcake Fairy Blossom

No, this isn’t an elaborate hoax

Ah, our old friends Fair Work Australia. The same people who heard a woman claim compensation for an injury sustained having drunken sex in her hotel room while away on a business trip and didn’t kick her out of the door with some curt Anglo Saxon advice.

This case concerns me greatly. Most of my working week is spent engaging in some level of workplace bullying, from the low level and subtle through to the elaborate and explicit.

An example of the former; I have a printout on my office wall showing the chronology of geological time (paleozoic, mesazoic, etc.) and, when a particular colleague with a poor track record of delivery comes to me with further excuses and promises, I point to it and ask him which of the durations I should use as a guide for my expectations.

To illustrate the more explicit bullying, I have been known to walk through entire departments loudly asking if anyone does anything other than looking at computer screens because, if not, perhaps they’d like to apply for visas to visit India as I’ve just had a great idea that they can help with?

But unfriending (not a real word, I know) someone on Creepbook is workplace bullying? Fuck me, I’m in trouble then. 

I hope nobody dobs a me in for giving a comb and a condom to the office twat in last year’s Secret Santa (i.e. “dickhead“).

And that’s just a sample of my original material. The stuff I plagiarise from Malcolm Tucker is way better.

Writing an email congratulating a colleague on taking four months to deliver an absolute crock of shit that was nowhere near what we’d previously agreed and two months late to boot, “Apple have produced two iPads in the same time, Geoff, and their CEO is dead“.

Or trying to unpick an utter clusterfuck of what should have been a straightforward project, “this is like the Shawshank redemption but with more crawling through shit and no fucking redemption“.

Probably the one they’ll get me on though is for whistling the Laurel and Hardy theme and asking a pair of colleagues if they’d had much trouble getting the piano up the stairs.

Workplace bullying? Don’t make me fucking laugh.

Fucking amateurs.

(h/t some Welsh cunt).

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