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100 dagar til jól

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233 thoughts on “多言語金曜日

    • This great day had it’s own lesser but nether the less “crowning moment” here at the local hostelry..

      It went like this:

      A short announcement.

      As well aware as we are these days of those “Great Moments in History” where an event is celebrated on canvas…like, say ; George Washington crossing the Delaware…or Captain James Cook bearing up proudly on the bow of the Endeavour’s whaler boat as he broaches the sandy shore of Botany Bay…or even our own Col’ Light on Montefiore Hill, with his determined arm outstretched pointing with accusatory finger to the possible location of the future precinct of Adelaide….and how right he was!…. I’d like to draw your attention to those little moments in history…enacted in those little places way off the beaten track that, one must acknowledge, do deliver their own great moments within their own little worlds….less, perhaps, “momentous” than “of the moment”!

      Such an event happened on the evening of the 2nd of June 1953…..on The Coronation of Queen Elizabeth 2nd .. at the Sedan Hotel front bar, where was gathered a regular small group of loyal local blokes…many bearing the Germanic names of that peoples that had been enemies in two wars of recent memory….but wishing to scotch any rumours of disloyalty to The Crown, the publican of the hotel called for silence with the ringing of a spoon on the rim of a schooner glass and proposed a toast to “ Her Majesty…The Queen!”…..THAT is the orthodox version of events…..I have it on good authority, though I will not vouch for it’s exactness of detail, that another short announcement accompanied that toast that created a certain amount of “discussion” within that small community….it went like this..

      I doubt it goes without some knowledge in these small country towns, that certain individuals practice ..habits..that are ..shall we say..of a different complextion than the mainstream. Most accomplish these little peccadilloes in the secrecy and privacy of their own homes…of course there is a price to pay for all that secrecy…there is the paranoia that if discovered, the general consensus of “the mob” will excoriate and damn the individual in question to exile or worse….such “difference” is a heavy burden to carry..particularly if one is working every day, shoulder to shoulder with his fellows in the fields…it wears on a chap!

      Such a burden had for several years weighed heavily upon one such chap amongst that gathering that evening in the front bar of The Sedan Hotel…(we shall not name names!)…He had come to the decision a week or so before that he would share this burden with his fellows and take the consequences ..whatever…he would “own” his idiosyncrasy. He had chosen that particular evening and he had steeled himself for the occasion with rehearsed lines and solemn mood to deliver to best advantage that which he wished to say..and why not!..and why not!?…The fact that the publican had chosen, with his unfortunate royal toast to the newly coroneted queen, the very zenith of that moment, at the very inhale of breath, so to speak, was inconvenient but not a deterrence…he decided to press ahead.

      The silence was heeded, the glasses were charged, the toast was made..: “To the Queen!”..”Hear, Hear!”…the schooners were just touched to wetted lips when he made his own small announcement…He drew a big breath, gulped and guiltily blurted out..:

      “I like wearing women’s clothes…..I always have .”

      Several of the party had to be revived after choking and spluttering on the amber fluid just then being imbibed.

      I would not like to claim that he said it “gaily”…but rather, in a quiet, solemn voice…soft, but determined…You know, there are some hesitations in the general hubbub of public gatherings where silence can follow momentous announcements…I’m thinking of Julius Caesar about to cross the Rubicon and he says quietly..; “Jacta alia est” (the die is cast)..the legions, I suspect, fell silent…or Horatio Nelson at Trafalgar, with his famous telescope to the blind eye..: “I really do not see the signal”….there are others…there are others…such a silence followed this announcement in the front bar of The Sedan Hotel….a full ten seconds silence…an eyewitness noted the ticking of a clock (two rooms away) for a full ten tocks…that record, I hasten to add, still stands!…I suspect the shock of this fellow navvy, this rough-handed roustabout, whom they were more used to see in moleskins and blucher-boots, informing them of his preference for women’s petticoats and finery threw some small confusion into their male minds…..it wasn’t long, however, “till the boat rightened itself”, the wave of confusion subsided and he was confronted with wide-eyed “enthusiasm”…..needless to say, his first suspicions of the possibility of estrangement, alienation and blind anger were quite sufficiently full-filled!

  1. Prime Minister Christensen

    MP George Christensen has said that a threat to quit the Liberal National party over the backpacker tax is a “moot point” because he now predicts the government would ditch the controversial revenue measure.

    The comments, reported in the Courier Mail on Sunday, signal the next priority for the conservative MP will be to force a backdown on the backpacker tax, after he led a successful revolt on superannuation that resulted in major changes to government policy.


  2. Cringe!

    New York: For a man who loves trains, how else is there to get around New York other than catching the subway?

    That’s just what Malcolm Turnbull and wife Lucy did after visiting the 9/11 memorial and museum during their first stop in the Big Apple on Saturday.

    The pair chose to hop on at Fulton Street station with Mr Turnbull remarking on the underground marble walls of the platform.

    It was a short ride for the pair of just two stops – skipping Wall Street for Bowling Green station – before joining locals in climbing the stairs to a sunny Battery Park.

    “I’m a great fan of subways generally,” he later told reporters in the park.

    “I’ve travelled on the New York subway many times.”


    • With him – a camera crew, his photographer (for the still photos) mikes and sound gear and his security team.

      It must have taken days to organise. I hope New Yorkers didn’t mind the disruption. All so Fizza could waffle on about the joys of the subway.

      Fizza’s constant ‘Look at me! I’m using public transpor!t’ stunts just give me the heaves. It’s all so damn fake.

  3. Another triumph for the country with the best refugee policy in the world –

    Nauru refugee denied emergency evacuation after suspected heart attack
    Australia not classing Afghan man’s case as an emergency but doctors say he is suffering from acute coronary syndrome and ‘requires urgent medical evacuation’

    And another –
    Australia’s forgotten detention centre: the peculiar torture of Christmas Island’s asylum seekers locked up with hardened criminals

    • 4. Because, many many centuries ago, some people told other people fairy tales. Those other people believed in those fairy tales so much that they held those fairy tales to be true.

      The people who told the tales did so to hold those other people in thrall through fear.

      Those other people told still other people, including their children, that not believing would make their existence after death a misery for ever and ever.

      Those still other people …

  4. Why does George have so much say? Even if he does almost need two whole seats to accommodate his backside he’s still just a back-bencher.

    George has been raving on about the backpacker tax and is threatening to cross the floor (I hope the floor is reinforced) to vote against it.

    No wonder the good gentlemen on the land want to keep it. It’s quite a lovely little rort they have going.

    Backpackers ‘manipulated into staying in expensive substandard housing’ to have farm work signed off

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