Wednesday, 16 November 2016

The strange thing about the Great Australian Plan to swap 1800 genuine Muslim refugees in Australian prison camps in New Guinea for 1800 Central American refugees who the USA won't at all ever accept, is that it is a dud of a plan. They must know that...so why announce it? Why not accept genuine refugees in need of refuge where they need refuge? What is so wrong with good manners? What is so wrong with people in Australia and the USA?

Fear is the Key...And it isn't even Real Fear, it's just Taught Fear. We know that. WE KNOW THAT. Yet we remain, by choice, as a people, as a 'civilisation' so piss-weak to our peers, so piss-weak to our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers and daughters and sons in real trouble.

I guess if all the Lucky Waving Chinese Cats get into the Flakka and the Chop Chop, whilst listening to AKB48 Heavy Rotation, we'll all end up driving to Melbourne looking like this:


Thinking of the drive to Melbourne in an industrial ute...the problem is always the bounce of the rear leaf springs but I think I can counter that with the 500 kilograms of chop-chop illegal Mareeba untaxed tobacco, and the 500 kilograms of Flakka....that should flatten the ride a bit...as long as the Lucky Chinese Waving Cats don't get into it.


I remain very fond of the Nissan Navara 4X4 Common Rail Turbo Diesel white BLOKE Ute By Which All Other white BLOKE Utes Are Judged. The picture, from somewhere around Daintree, is before I added the Amazing Cascade Array of Massive SETI LED Lights to it. It will do just fine. Roll on, Brave New World, Roll On! We don't need a GPS...we have 7 Lucky Waving Chinese cats, and Phil the Angel, and our own songs, to guide us.

Home from work, bunch of crazy people...and then there were the patients.The chinese waving lucky cats are waving at me here at the desk, clunk clunk clunk...the Removalists have advised the cost will be higher...how do they know that instantly after you've paid the deposit? Must be psychic. Anyway, the old 1945 Thai industrial brass standing fan is making crescendos and cascades of violent wind and intimidations of physical threat in the background. Mrs Fitz is snoozing. Good to be home. We are off to Townsville briefly in the a.m. to pick up daughter DJWAWA and bring her gear back here to add her stuff to the pile bound for Melbourne.
I'm guessing on our late December 3000km drive to Melbourne, we'll be passing through some Yiddish/Yokel/Syrian town on Christmas Eve...somewhere near Damascus or Dorrigo or the Dandenongs, ...looking for a modest manger for the night....the lucky chinese waving cats clunking in the box in the back of the ute...Phil the House Angel peering out from his T-Chest, as we drive singing and humming and swerving to miss donkeys and bad samaritans and kangaroos...sounds like a good real journey to me.