The Centre Cannot Hold >> Blessays

“Thank you” – an open letter to assorted ALP members

Dear politician,

When I think of the hard work and long nights that the Gillard government has put into the incredibly difficult task of devising a system of handling the arrival of refugees on Australian territory that is even more corrupt, dehumanising and inhumane than the notable sadists of the Howard government could devise, it just makes me wish that you’d used all that time and energy doing something better for our country. Like killing yourselves.

Anyway, congratulations on winning the race to the bottom, and I look forward to your party’s future slide into irrelevance.

If you’re at all curious as to what I’m currently insulting politicians about, it’s the Malaysian Solution. For more information, I recommend you check out the post Malaysian deal a test for us, not for the government at The Conscience Vote.

A Guide to Recognizing the Truth in Diverse Media

Confused by the blizzard of data all around us? Having trouble telling what’s true and what’s not? Check this ready reference guide to recognizing the truth, depending on what you’re viewing/reading at the time:

In a sitcom with a voice-over narrator: stated by the narrator at the end of the episode. (Warning: if the narrator’s name is JD, the truth in question may be stated in unusually peculiar metaphors. If the narrator’s name is Earl, the truth will sound dumbed-down, but usually be deeper.)

In a horror movie: the good advice or common sense ignored by the protagonist/s. Sometimes this truth is implicit, e.g. ‘never perform scientific experiments in which you are the test subject’

In a work by Neil Gaiman: stated portentiously, pretentiously, or both, but usually also with wit and charm.

In a work by Robert Anton Wilson: disguised as a paradox, a koan or a joke. (Warning: not all jokes in Wilson’s works are truths.)

In a work by Grant Morrison or Warren Ellis: disguised as the rantings of a drug-crazed or otherwise unreliable narrator

In a work by Aaron Sorkin: disguised as naivest idealism, bitterest cynicism, or both at once.

In pornographic video: directly proportional to the trueness of breasts, on a scale ranging from very low to infinitisimal.

On cable news networks: directly proportional to the degree of disagreement with Fox News.

In a work by John Stewart: the level of truth in any statement is directly proportional the level of either incredulity or humility with which Stewart states it.

In a work by Stephen Colbert: replaced by Truthiness

In a DC Comic: stated by either Superman or Batman. Where they disagree, the truth lies with whichever one gets the last word.

In a Marvel Comic: stated by Captain America, but only if the role of Cap is currently being played by Steve Rogers. Otherwise, stated by either Spider-Man, Wolverine or Luke Cage, especially if it is the latter two in agreement.

In Greek Myth: stated by Cassandra, but never believed.

In Norse Myth: stated by Heimdall, Odin or Loki. n.b. the latter are also notorious liars, so although they may be telling the truth, you probably won’t be sure about it until later, or in extreme cases, after Ragnarok.

In any incarnation of Star Trek: preceded by the words “Captain’s Log”, although occasionally it will be someone else’s log.

In Twin Peaks: stated by the log. Yes, really.

A Tale of Two Joyces

Alan Joyce, CEO of Qantas, and James Joyce, author of Finnegan’s Wake and Ulysses, share precisely one thing in common other than their surnames. Their differences, on the other hand, are myriad:

James Joyce spoke several languages fluently and was a renowned author whose understanding of Engish was on a par with that of Shakespeare; Alan Joyce’s understanding of English is that of a toddler. To him, words mean what he wants them to mean and other people are stupid for not understanding this.
James Joyce grew up in poverty and oppression, and his political sympathies were firmly on the side of the proletariat; Alan Joyce has never missed a meal in his life.
James Joyce worked long hours at difficult jobs to support himself and his family while writing classics of literature; Alan Joyce recently gave himself a raise for managing to do less than usual for a Qantas CEO.
James Joyce was a staunch patriot of his native land; Alan Joyce is a citizen of the dollar – but only until another currency makes a better offer.
James Joyce’s works all stress the importance of history and memory; Alan Joyce’s work relies largely on people not remembering what he did the day before.

These two disparate scions of the Joyce lineage do have one thing in common, though: neither of them would piss on the other if he was on fire.

(Although in fairness to Alan Joyce, it should be pointed out that he would in fact happily piss on anyone, whether they were on fire or not, but only in the event that he had already negotiated generous renumeration for doing so.)

An open letter to Google

Hi there!

You probably don’t need me to tell you that you’re the world’s pre-eminent site for search. However, having just spent a fruitless hour on your site looking for a way to send you a message, I can tell you that you are almost certainly unaware of how ironic that is.
Continue reading An open letter to Google

Australian Anthems #8 – “Whatareya” by This Is Serious Mum

Possibly the most fundamental conflict in Australian society – more than any question of morality or ethics – is one particular social divide. It’s the one that lies between the two groups characterised by TISM as the yobboes and the wankers. Between the university-educated and the trade-school-educated; between the book reading and the Herald-Sun reading; between chardonay and beer drinkers.
Continue reading Australian Anthems #8 – “Whatareya” by This Is Serious Mum

Australian Anthems #9 – “Don’t Tear It Down” by Spy V Spy

Urbanisation is a fact of life in this country, particularly when you look at how many of us live in our cities compared to the vast expanses of rural land and wilderness that make up our nation. Cities, as I’ve already noted, force us into contact with each other, and where there’s contact, there’s friction. And cities also have their own traditions and feelings associated with them. As Cold Chisel put it in “Flame Trees”: ‘we share some history, this town and I, and I can’t stop that long-forgotten feeling…‘
Continue reading Australian Anthems #9 – “Don’t Tear It Down” by Spy V Spy

Australian Anthems #1 – “Solid Rock” by Goanna

There’s a lot of songs about the coming of the Europeans to these shores, and most of them take the point of view that it has been an unmitigated disaster for the prior inhabitants. So what makes this one special?

It was one of the first songs to take that stance; it took it at least as strongly as any other song ever has and more than most (I’ve no easy way of checking, but I’d be surprised to learn that any Australian song used the word ‘genocide’ before it); it was a good-sized hit among the white population; and, last but by no means least, it completely rocks. “Solid Rock” is also the first and pretty much only hit from Goanna, a very talented band – they deserved much better from the public than they got.

It’s a cry of rage, of anger against injustice. Just listening to it conveys a sense of all that has been lost, a traditional way of life that had lasted for thousands of years, gone forever in a little over a century – and all the reasons why it happened (which basically amounts to: white people didn’t see black people as real people). As a true reflection of our nation’s history – as opposed to the increasingly bullshit words of our actual national anthem – it’s hard to beat.

Australian Anthems #10 – “Bow River” by Cold Chisel

In an earlier installment of this series, I mentioned Cold Chisel’s “One Long Day”, which I find myself terribly sorry there wasn’t a place in this list. But I promised myself only one Chisel song, and as brilliant as that one is, it loses out to “Bow River”. They both have a similar subject matter, but one is a mellow bluesy piece and the other one is rock’n'roll – no contest, really.
Continue reading Australian Anthems #10 – “Bow River” by Cold Chisel

Australian Anthems #2 – “A Tale They Won’t Believe” by Weddings, Parties, Anything

The convict era is not one of the brighter parts of our past, but for some reason, it’s one of the ones we’ve most chosen to romanticise, even though we have a pretty good idea of the truth behind it.

Weddings, Parties, Anything’s classic song retells the story of one of the most infamous Australian convicts, Alexander Pearce (although curiously, the song never names him) from his own point of view. And in doing so, it shows us a microcosm of everything about the convict era.

Pearce and his companions break free of their imprisonment in Macquarie Harbour, a lonely outpost on the western coast of Tasmania, and make a perilous journey across an uncharted and untamed wilderness to Hobart. The wilderness we’re discussing here is south-west Tasmania, still a wilderness even today. The men travel on, running out of alternatives for food until finally cannibalism is the only solution.

After repeated incidents, it is only Pearce who survives to make his way to Hobart, where he tells his tale to the authorities after being arrested. They assume he is lying, and send him back to Macquarie Harbour – where a species of proof eventually comes to light, as Pearce has developed a taste for cannibalism now…

The starkness of the wilderness, the isolation of Australia, the ever-present risk of starvation – and the thought that “death or liberty” are the only choices, and either of them better than imprisonment – are all very characteristic of the convict experience. No less so is the refusal of the authorities to listen to the truth if it will not conform to their prejudices – a quality which is regrettably still quite visible in our politics even today. And the simple-minded dream of freedom, of a better life anywhere but here…

…this too remains a profound, if rarely acknowledged, part of the Australian psyche.

Australian Anthems #3 – “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” by Eric Bogle

Not actually written by a naturalised Australian rather than a native born one, Eric Bogle’s “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” grapples with the conflicting nobility and futility of war, with the ANZAC landings at Gallipolli and their annual commemoration as its particular focus. The incredible power of its simplicity and sentiments can be seen in how widely it has been covered – and the fact that not a few of those who cover it have no idea who wrote it, believing it to be a traditional folk song.

Scottish-born Bogle moved to Australia when he was 25, and fell in love with the country – although his song-writing reflects the conflicting impulses that love arouses in him: pride in our acheivements and frustration with our national failings. His fierce idealism is tempered by an active sense of humour and a love of silliness, all three of which are features of many of his songs (albeit the first rarely found with the latter two). More than forty years after leaving Scotland, Bogle still has a strong accent, and like most Celts, a profound distrust for Saxons and Normans.

Questioning the point of war is a common theme in Bogle’s work, with “No Man’s Land” a similar questioning of World War One in general, and “My Youngest Son Came Home Today” doing the same for the Troubles in Northern Island. He also has a great sympathy for the plight of the Australian farmer, as seen in “Now I’m Easy” and “Tenterfield Saddler” (the latter of which is about the grandfather and father of Peter Allan, and the quiet tragedies of their lives). Bogle has also taken potshots at Australian racism in “I Hate Wogs” (it’s not what you think from the title). For a man not born here, he gets Australia in a way that many who were do not.

“And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” is one man’s tale of naively volunteering for the Great War, getting both his legs blown off, and wondering why in Hell we celebrate as the birth of our nation a defeat created by our supposed superiors in the Mother Country. It was written long before the Howard years – in 1971, leading some to see it as a Vietnam allegory – and the glorification of the legend of ANZAC, but listening to it, it’s hard not to hear the song as a reaction to little Johnny’s aping of the 1915 British High Command.

Australian Anthems #4 – “I Was Only 19 (A Walk In The Light Green)” by Redgum

The Vietnam War didn’t get nearly as much play in Australian media as it did in American, but those occasions when it did come up tended to pack a punch.
Continue reading Australian Anthems #4 – “I Was Only 19 (A Walk In The Light Green)” by Redgum

Australian Anthems #5 – “Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy)” by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs

To most of Australia, this song is one the few really well-known flower child anthems. It represents free love and hippie shit and all that. The other side of the Sixties from songs about Vietnam.
Continue reading Australian Anthems #5 – “Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy)” by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs

The Centre Cannot Hold

“Thank you” – an open letter to assorted ALP members

A Guide to Recognizing the Truth in Diverse Media

A Tale of Two Joyces

An open letter to Google

Australian Anthems #8 – “Whatareya” by This Is Serious Mum

Australian Anthems #9 – “Don’t Tear It Down” by Spy V Spy

Australian Anthems #1 – “Solid Rock” by Goanna

Australian Anthems #10 – “Bow River” by Cold Chisel

Australian Anthems #2 – “A Tale They Won’t Believe” by Weddings, Parties, Anything

Australian Anthems #3 – “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” by Eric Bogle

Australian Anthems #4 – “I Was Only 19 (A Walk In The Light Green)” by Redgum

Australian Anthems #5 – “Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy)” by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs

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