Australian Value #1

Oct 27, 2020 | Australian Values, Border Security, Citizenship, Cultural Values, Democracy, Freedom of Speech, Humour, Immigration, Legal, Media Values, OzPol Values, PedoPriests, Religious Values, Values

Australian Value #1

Values Australia’s Aussie Values T-Shirt on display and immortalised in Museums Victoria

Ellen Sludge Breaks the Cardinal Law

Many moons ago, Sir Roger wrote the First Law of Australian Values. 

Australian Value #1:

 

Politicians do NOT own Australian Values

 

The fact that John Hunt, the Coward, and “Slim” Beazley had engaged in a battle to hijack Australian Values was the reason that Sir Roger had himself taken up arms against this anti-social piracy and became a global celebrity. 

The least qualified human beings to be aware of, to understand, or to protect Australian Values are, of course, bloody politicians. Politicians have continually attempted to kidnap our values and debauch them into the authoritarian beliefs of the alt-right, the international catholic paedophilia ring and the born-again theocratists. 

Values are not created by fiat, by law, by act, charter, legislation or decree.

Real values are organic, historic, and always evolving. Values are created by the mass of free, individual humans. (Unless they’re members of the Hillsaralive Church of the Sound of Music, in which case they’re just the brainwashed living dead.)  

This said, Sir Roger was delighted to see a delightful piece of work by the Grauniad’s Frant which asked all the right questions and provided some excellent answers:

So the latest dickhead in charge of controlling Australian Citizens and what they are required to believe is Ellen Smudge, Acting Mincer for Denizens, Immitation, Migraine Surfaces and Multicuntural Affairs, including responsibility for O’Pears.   

What are Ellen’s qualifications for nurturing Australian Values? Well, mostly fudging: 

“In June 2017  Smudge, and Liberal Party colleagues Greer Kunt and Michelle Sucker, faced the possibility of being prosecuted for contempt of court after they made public statements criticising the sentencing decisions of two senior judges while the government was awaiting their ruling on a related appeal. They avoided prosecution by, eventually, making an unconditional apology to the Victorious Court of Appeal. Conviction could have resulted in their expulsion from the parliament under Constitution s 44(ii) and, as a result, the government losing its one-seat majority in the House of Representatives. 

 And of course more recently there was this: 

“In March 2020, the Administrative Appeals Tribunal ordered that an Afghan asylum seeker who had previously been a part of the Afghan National Army be granted a temporary protection visa. Smudge, who was Acting Immitation Minister at the time, instantly appealed the judgement of the AAT to federal court, which failed. However during the 6-day appeal process, the asylum seeker had been kept in the detention centre. Six months later, the Federal Court found that Grudge, “engaged in conduct which can only be described as criminal,” and that Drudge had deprived the asylum seeker of his liberty, which has prompted calls for his resignation. 

As you will be unsurprised to learn, Ms Nudge (full name Nudge-Nudge-Wink-Wink-Saynomore)  is an old hand at dog whistling and, as Joe Biden said of the Trump, “This guy has a dog whistle about as big as a foghorn.” She doesn’t really like anyone who is not a white christian who speaks English. The Western Suburbs love it.  

Miss Judge wants it to be very clear that her government deeply believes in and supports Australians’ Freedom of Speech.  This is presumably why there is no actual statement in the Australian Constitution permitting or mandating Freedom of Speech, and why no government has ever proposed any referendum to establish this right, and why freedom of speech is a thinly technical presumption devised by a few narrow majorities of High Court Judges, and only with respect to political speech. You might say that all speech is in a sense political and you would be right but you might not wish to be the one to fork out the cash to run a case in the matter in the High Court. All citizens are equal under the law and have equal rights of access to justice as long as they have the funds to afford a decent lawyer.  

The Australian government’s tolerance and its attitude to free speech are demonstrated by its amendments to Wikipedia, and its action to kindly inform Values Australia in March 2007 that if it didn’t pull the site down it would send it to gaol on the basis of a variety of laws. This was in addition to its actually closing down a parody site of the Prime Minister. So aspirational immigrants need to understand that by “free speech” the government means you can say anything you like, anything at all, that agrees with the government and does not hurt its feelings.

Mateship of course is the value most often and most fiercely promoted as the essence of being Australian . . . because no other country has such a value. Australia is so mateship-oriented that we even celebrate it as a black grease called VEGEMATE.

You might think that Mateship is just a kind of friendship and other countries have friendship so what’s so special. But no. Mateship is something far more deep and complex.

Here’s what Sir Roger says about Mateship:

1) Mateship is the one and the only Central Pillar of Australian values;

2) Only men are permitted to have mates;

3) Women are banned from having mates because women have actual meaningful interpersonal relationships with actual friends. which is against the Rules of Mateship.

4) Mateship is not the same as Shipmate, which suggests a different kind of relationship.

5) Mates do not touch each other.

5a) unless they are pissed, when a mate might use the term “Matey” and profess an unseemly level of affection. This transgression is only tolerated because the mates are so pissed they won’t remember it in the morning. This is the evolutionary function of the hangover. 

So what is mateship?

Mateship is pretending to be friends with someone who doesn’t want your job.

A mate is someone who won’t sleep with your mistress without asking you first.

A great mate is a rugby league footballer who invites you to a gang bang with the other members of his team.

 

Ruby Murdocraci will be your TRUE Mate if you are a biddable politician and you stroke him just the way he likes it, at least for as long as you are useful.

A mate is what men have who are incapable of attracting actual friends (see “Politician”), or of forming any kind of vaguely intimate relationships, particularly in their own families (ibid).

As Sir Roger says, the only strange thing about mateship is that the people who have promoted this value most loudly over the last several decades—and now, as we see, Minister Bludge—have never had a real mate in their lives because they are such dorks and bogans. (Minister Sludge is a certified Bogan, being from rural Victorious.) The people who call them mates only do it because they have useful stuff they can give them, like TV stations, or Australia (they gave that away to their “mate” Ruby Murdocraci). 

TAKE THE VALUES AUSTRALIA MATESHIP TEST

Values Australia has prepared a special alternative Mateship Test which we guarantee no Australian politician or fat-arsed bureaucrat would pass, particularly the Minister for DIC and his silly pen-pushers.

Take it yourself. Use it for trivia nights. 

There is more about Australian Values here.

 

The Real Anarchist

Sep 10, 2020 | Arts, Australian Values, Corruption, Cultural Values, Democracy, Economic Values, Legal, Lifestyle & Life, Media Values, Racism, USPol, Values

The Real Anarchist

“I’m a Leninist” *

 

Trump has branded democrats and protestors as terrorists and also as anarchists. And because he likes the wacko Q narrative  – or likes to use it to manipulate his stupid base –  he sees the dark agents of doom in every corner.

But anarchists? The perfect patsy, a “useful, biddable idiot”, a deeply ignorant, psychopathic, personality-disordered, narcissistic buffoon he was scraped up, groomed and dragged into his “presidency” by a self-described . . . wait for it . . . anarchist.

That real anarchist is the unutterably awful, extreme-right, woman-hating, anti-democratic, supposedly communist-loving, power-mad, fake-news propagandist, pus-brained Steve Bannon.

What is this if not hot-lead anarchism:

“I want to bring everything crashing down, and destroy all of today’s establishment.”

And he’s willing to destroy not only the establishment but the people.

“Darkness is good. Dick Cheney. Darth Vader. Satan. That’s power.”

Good grief! Cheney? Cheney taught Satan everything he knows, and is so deep in the Establishment you’d have to pry him out of the magma chamber where he and his heart machine ‘live’.

As you know, Bannon was arrested and charged on 20 August with mail fraud allegedly involving the misuse of multi-million-dollar funds — donated to build the notorious “Wall” — for personal expenses. So much for destroying the Establishment.

Why should we care?

Because the US is important to global stability. Yes it could do with some political cleansing.

For any other actually democratic country the supposed “leftist/socialist” party, the Democrats, would be considered hard right. The conservatives are beyond alt-right, being absent any sense, or understanding of ethics and bereft of any ‘moral compass’ and are more or less irreparably the party of robber barons and their weak thoroughly bribed and compromised political tools.

But the people of America are for the most part fine people, generous people, fun-loving people, wildly creative people, enthusiastic energetic people, incredibly clever people.

They don’t deserve this.

Nor do we.

 

If Trump gets another go the whole world will be left in turmoil.

 

*  Sir Roger, by contrast, is a Lennonist

Lynton Crosby Outed

May 26, 2016 | Australian Values, Border Security, Cultural Values, Democracy, Economic Values, Global Warming, Media Values, OzPol Values, Terrorism, Values

Lynton Crosby Outed

 

. . . as Dutton’s Mews Muse (probably)

 

Sir Roger has it on authority from multiple sources that the “Dead Cat on the Table” ploy, most recently fed to and trotted out by Peter Dutton, is the signature work of one Lynton Crosby. Goebbels was also a master propagandist.

What?

Sir Roger is in no way suggesting that Crosby is comparable to or correlated with the Nazi regime. On the contrary, just as Barnaby did with the boats and the beef, Sir Roger just mentioned two things side by side. How dare you suggest that Barnie was throwing a long-dead and rancid cat on the table, or that Lynton Crosby is just as putrid! How very dare you!

ICYMI, what is a “dead cat”?

According to The Spectator :

“ When,  Crosby says,  you are in a hole or faced with the tricky task of diverting attention away from some unwanted piece of news you should throw a dead cat onto the table. Hey presto! No-one is talking about the bad news; everyone is talking about the dead cat on the table.

Lynton Crosby – sorry, SIR Lynton Crosby (knighted for confusing the British electorate into voting for the wrong set of poncing fools last year) – it is said SIR Lynton Crosby has, as his favourite method of tricking the voting public into voting for the wrong team, the above-mentioned Dead Cat Ploy.

The function of this skullduggery is to cause everyone — including especially the media — to talk about the one thing the party has going for it. The media of course lap it up and blow it up and smear it over everything they own because there are now too few journalists, they are overworked and overwhelmed and they are desperate for an easy story  (“what are they saying on twitter?”). And so it becomes the Big Story of the Day, or the week, it reinforces the one issue that does well in the party’s focus groups and turns the media gaze away from issues where the other side polls better.

It is also used to divert attention (and conversation) away from damaging embarrassments.

And what would they not want people talking about?

Well, almost everything. The budget, last year’s budget, the one before that. Malcolm Mansion’s incompetent mismanagement of the NBN, health, education, pensions, unemployment, the economy, growth, unemployment. The “Innovative Society” needed to be hidden after the NBN raid because that just reinforces that if Malcolm is so incompetent that he can’t make the cheap and nasty version cost heaps less than the expensive shiny one then he’s got no chance of pulling off an innovation of any kind.

Then there’s:

  • superannuation
  • tax cuts (except for the rich)
  • tax increases
  • the climate
  • the environment
  • fracking
  • burning rivers
  • subsidies to polluters
  • orphan industries
  • new coal mines
  • the Great Barrier Reef and coral bleaching

. . . to name just a few.

The list of topics they’d rather we didn’t have a close look at includes just about everything – oh, except the Tony Abbott obsession with keeping the brown-skinned people away from our pristine White Australia.

Lynty-baby certainly has his work cut out.

Anyway, Sir Roger hopes that Sir Crosby will be as effective in this election as he was in the recent Canadian election, where his client collapsed in a landslide.

The problem is that the Dead Cat ploy is not a surprise anymore.

The media are onto it like a shark smelling blood at a dog show and are beginning to cover the campaigner and not the issues. More and more people are talking about the sliminess of the liberal party’s campaign strategy and campaign strategist and despising them for trying to play them for fools, or more importantly, trusting them even less than before if that is possible.

The propagandist is in the spotlight when he’s supposed to be invisible, and the ‘valiant hero of the East’, or at least the Eastern Suburbs, is the one who’s supposed to be bathed in the limelight.

 

 

Oliver Sacks and “Soul Murder”

May 21, 2016 | Australian Values, Border Security, Capital Punishment, Citizenship, Cultural Values, Democracy, Education, Immigration, Legal, Lifestyle & Life, Media Values, OzPol Values, Racism, Religious Values, Values

Oliver Sacks and “Soul Murder”

 After:  Oliver Sacks  by Luigi Novi  9.13.09

. . . the arms that long for love

  Sir Roger was listening to the ABC Science Show today. It was Robyn Williams’ homage to Oliver Sacks (Awakenings, The Man Who Thought His Wife Was a Hat, Seeing Voices, Uncle Tungsten etc. etc. etc.) and was jolly-well enjoying it immensely. The sun was shining into the conservatory, the hounds had been exercised, the ice was clinking cheerfully in the Glenfiddich, all was right with the world … when suddenly his Lordship was shaken by these words:

 Listen to the complete ABC Science Show feature on Oliver Sacks

In the show, Sacks recalled his early (wartime) childhood experience after being evacuated to the country from London during the blitz.

He called it “soul murder”.

Sir Roger’s glass slid from his hand and he watched it slowly fall, like an overcranked silent film, to be dashed on the Italian tiles of the conservatory floor.

The idea of murdering a child’s soul – what would that mean? To thrust a knife into the heart of the spirit of playfulness and enthusiasm and joy, to cut off the hands that grasp so eagerly for learning, to amputate the arms that long for love, to sever the legs that long to walk tall, to blind the imagination and every dream, and to gut the body of hope.

To replace it all with what — an interminable desert of dust and ash and despair, and the nightmare of blank nothingness.

Repairing to the Library Sir Roger blew the dust off an article about “soul murder” by Leonard Shengold who said:

“ Soul murder is the term I have used for the apparently willful abuse and neglect of children by adults that are of sufficient intensity and frequency to be traumatic. By that I mean that the children’s subsequent emotional development has been profoundly and predominantly negatively affected.”

The mind of the master of Migently Estate flashed into flame, like ancient nitrocellulose film in a poorly maintained projector on a hot day, with the thought that the treatment of asylum seekers by successive Australian governments, and particularly their Prime Ministers and Ministers, their bureaucracies and bureaucrats, and their profit-driven corporate contractors, matches the description of “soul murder”.

Especially — though not only — when it is perpetrated against children for whom as a society we are collectively responsible. And more damningly, as a Culture — which we so pridefully contrast with others we call barbaric, backward, primitive, knuckle-dragging, inhumane – we are deeply shamed.

And so Sir Roger slumped into the rattan and pondered to whom, on Shengold’s definition, the term “soul murderer” might be applied. Who had publicly and wilfully perpetrated, advertised and perhaps boasted of abuse against children who are, after all, in the broad sense in Australia’s care (you know, to discourage people from getting on boats and to break the people smugglers’ “business model”)?

And, he mused, those would include Dutton, Morrison, Turnbull, Abbott, Rudd, Gillard, Howard, Keating, Evans, Bowen, Ruddock, Vanstone.

Who else?

All those who voted in parliament for them and their policies.

All those facilitators, such as bureaucrats and others, who were ‘just doing their jobs’. Heartlessly. 

And all those who are complicit because they voted to put those people in parliament.

And he shouted to the cat, “You can say ‘not in my name‘ as much and as loudly as you bloody well like, but actually it is in your name and you are not absolved unless you do something about it. It is in your name if you vote for either of the major parties party.”

“And that’s all right, puss,” he said quietly, “as long as you are clear and okay with yourself that that is who you are: someone who is okay with the murder of children’s souls.”

Sprezzatura – the New Cool

Dec 29, 2014 | Arts, Australian Values, Cultural Values, Lifestyle & Life, Media Values, OzPol Values, Values

Sprezzatura – the New Cool

Only Connect!

 

S ir Roger has been somewhat troubled of late that persons of his (ahem) “vintage” have become quite out of step with the young’uns these days.

Not in terms of worldliness, because after all his generation have seen a lot more world (times Time), with all its available varieties of grief and joy, of wonder and horror, of peoples and places, than the young’uns — although they apparently believe they invented the world in 7 days (more or less) and are piqued that the old cheeses don’t give them credit for their creativity (as we also complained, to be honest).

“See that Pops? That’s a car! I invented that.

See that? That’s a smart phone!

See that? That’s the internet! I had the original idea and created them with my bare hands out of thin air.

No-one ever did anything before me.

No, don’t bother, you wouldn’t understand with your tired old alzheimery brain lol.

(I also invented music and dancing btw.)”

No, the trouble is in terms of personal relationships.

 

 

 

SIDEBAR:


Way back in 1528 Baldassare Castiglione published Il Libro del Cortegiano, The Book of the Courtier, and brought to the world the term Sprezzatura.

Sprezzatura is:

“rehearsed spontaneity, studied carelessness, and well-practiced naturalness”

intended to:

“avoid affectation in every way possible . . . and to practice in all things a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever is done or said appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it.”

It is the ability of the courtier to display:

“an easy facility in accomplishing difficult actions which hides the conscious effort that went into them”.

Sprezzatura has also been described

“as a form of defensive irony: the ability to disguise what one really desires, feels, thinks, and means or intends behind a mask of apparent reticence and nonchalance”.

 

 

So Sir Roger is cogitating on his apprehension that sprezzatura translates very roughly into what the young’uns call being “cool” (as if they invented that word as well), or “chill”.

What it looks like is that the kids — with whom, of course, one is quite embarrassingly down — find it very uncool, not at all sprezzatura, to express an emotion or to actually give the faintest appearance of having actually noticed anything at all.

Now, there are two important exceptions to this.

One is permitted to (or one does anyway) express the emotion of tanterum provoked by an unfairness or frustration that one perceives is directed at one’s spoilt-child-self, usually by authority figures (or parents – not necessarily the same thing), and to use a full range of expletives and explosive actions to describe these offenders-against-one’s-divinely-bestowed royality.

The other exception is that while it is uncool to notice almost everything external to oneself, it is almost compulsory to notice oneself constantly, and to take photographs of these earth-shattering moments and share them with an adoring public – a public which, ironically(?), is spending a lot of – studiously disguised – energy and effort not noticing anythingoranyone but itselfie. Sir Roger does note that some fringe dwellers do notice the food they are eating and take a cornucopian photographic record of their every repast to share with what they imagine is a drooling, breathlessly waiting, deeply impressed world that is starving for the latest news of their banquetations. However, this behaviour is deprecated and thought to be uncool by the Sprezzaturati.

Lol! All this light-hearted fun, eh? lmao, right?

Well, it does have its sad side.

Alphabetical Gens of every tribe appear to have no authentic, meaningful time for the human reality of actual other people. Perhaps they are not being cool at all but are merely, and actually, unaware of others. Or they are simply too busily absorbed in and fascinated by broadcasting the minutiae of what in their fantasy are their own extraordinarily interesting lives as social media celebrities, and having what they call “fun”.

This “fun” involves superficial and content-free banter, often electronically, with what they call their “friends” (lol), competitively drinking buckets of poisonous liquids before staggering out from their squat/ share-house/ apartment/ parents’ place on a recreational excursion where the agenda is to drink a mixture of as much intoxicating beverage, of whatever malt, as possible, perhaps augmented by a range of cutely acronymous drugs of uncertain pedigree and even more dodgy consequence. The goal, apparently, is to cause a swoon, to crumple at the knees, to fall on the floor, or even more hilariously in the gutter, to vomit, and magically to awake the next day and find oneself in bed with a bad headache, a bucketful of remorse and probably an ugly stranger, wondering what happened after the first drink at 3 o’clock in the afternoon the day before.

So there is no difference, even in detail, between this fun and the way fun was pursued when Sir Roger himself was a young’un.

In fact in most respects Sir Roger’s generation – the BoomBoxers – who also thought they invented everything and understood everything and were instant experts and were immortal, and were shallow, too — were no different from today’s young’uns.

But my dears (says Sir Roger), there is a new shallowness, an existential hollowness, a bottomless pit of empty dread in the New Cool, the Sprezzatura nova, and it is either actual indifference to the multi-dimensional reality of other minds; a terror of touching the wobbly-jobbly, smelly-messy emotional innards of others (or what we used to call “intimacy”) because either they fear catching something from it, or they have no idea how to deal with it; or a fear of being thought uncool rather than a desire to be cool – that is, a dread not so much to connect as to be seen to.

You can’t touch them. Your fingers slide off them like burnt bacon off a teflon frypan. And yet as humans our greatest need is to connect.

“  She might,” said E M Forster, “yet be able to help him to the building of the rainbow bridge that should connect the prose in us with the passion. Without it we are meaningless fragments, half monks, half beasts, unconnected arches that have never joined into a man. With it love is born, and alights on the highest curve, glowing against the grey, sober against the fire. Happy the man who sees from either aspect the glory of these outspread wings. The roads of his soul lie clear, and he and his friends shall find easy-going…

Only connect! Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer.”

 

 

And by the way, since Sir Roger has mentioned Forster:

“  This woman was a goddess to the end…This episode which was so tragic for him, remained supremely beautiful. To such a height was he lifted, that without regret he could now have told her that he was her worshipper too. But what was the use of telling her? For all the wonderful things had happened.

“Thank you,” was all that he permitted himself. “Thank you for everything.”

Sir Roger wishes to say to his particular goddess, “Thank you. Thank you for everything. And by the way, and I know there’s no use in telling you but, I am your worshipper too…“

 

  

Special Intel Ops

Nov 3, 2014 | Australian Values, Citizenship, Corruption, Cultural Values, Democracy, Freedom of Speech, Humour, Immigration, Legal, Media Values, OzPol Values, Racism, Religious Values, Terrorism, Values

Special Intel Ops

Night of the Big Dicks

Special Intel Ops, Sir Roger is required to inform his readers, may actually AT THIS VERY MOMENT be taking place, or may be in preparation, or may at the very least be in prospect.

(Clutches pearls)

It has come to Sir Roger’s attention, or may have come to Sir Roger’s attention, or may in the future come to Sir Roger’s attention, that spooky types with false beards stuck on, dark glasses pulled on, black hats pulled down and coat collars pulled up, are probably at this very moment — or perhaps not — engaged in Special Intelligence Operations, looking for, and even looking at, evidence, or what may or may not turn out to be evidence, of fundamentalist jihadist islamist/ christian/ buddhist/ hinduist/ atheist thoughts and feelings that, if turned into actions, may disturb the status quo and the little old lady next door, who has always voted Liberal and will again if she lives that long without a bomb blowing up her tiny flat, or if she doesn’t choke on her cornflakes or swallow her dentures and if she’s not too terrified to venture out of the only safe place she knows.

WE MUST PROTECT HER in her fantastic delusions so that she can once again vote for Tony’s Tamer Straya (waves colonial-era jingo flag [made in China]) so that the jesuit interloper and his fundamentalist christian fellow-travellers might win the most unlikely election victory in living memory – even if that is at the expense of the freedoms of the rest of us.

It is believed the Specious Intel Ops in question — if there is one, of course — may be on foot in an Australian suburb which has a high (or cunningly low) concentration of persons of a [ahem] “specific” cultural-religious-ethnic heritage.

The Special Intel Ops may — or perhaps may not — currently be in the final planning stages of a secret pre-dawn raid which will be unknown — or perhaps known — or perhaps leaked — to all besides selected members of the media.

Residents of the — allegedly — targeted street [unless it is a highway, or an uninhabited desert] will need to be patient for as long as the television news vans need to remain in the area to interview the tumescent penises of the Attorney General, the Minister for Death Stares and the Minister for Immigration-&-Everything-Else-He-Can-Lay-His-Hands-On (and his 90 media distorters).

You have been warned.

The Night of the Long Penises is coming!

Welcome to the new world of Special Intel Cocks.