Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Paid to Pray

In Newcastle on Monday (still travelling for work), I was reading their local rag - the Newcastle Herald - and was surprised to discover that our politicians start every Parliamentary session with "The Lord's Prayer" ("Heaven forbid pulping the prayer" - this story has also appeared in other rags, too).

It's not like they're wasting enough of our money, they also need to take time every day, time that we're paying for, to mouth platitudes to their Imaginary Friend as well?

"Oh Christian God, apart from all that bad stuff you're responsible for, you're so great!! PLEASE, PLEASE make my life better, it kind of sucks. Amen" (I've paraphrased it somewhat - there's a better analysis of the prayer, and Malcolm Turnbull's justification for keeping it, here).

Anyhoo, Bob Brown wants to replace it with a moment of quiet reflection. Seems perfectly reasonable, particularly in our multi-denominational country, with a supposedly secular Government.

I'll pray to the Flying Spaghetti Monster, see if he can't sort this out.

Or maybe the Boognish.

Friday, October 24, 2008

I know you are, but what am I?

I feel I must take issue with my man, Josh K.

In the last episode of Boxcutters, he stated that, these days, Saturday Night Live is not funny.

I beg to differ.

And my argument shall take the form of a series of video clips, collected from a series of tubes.

Check it (Yank ads and all, from the official site, no less).

For the next one, watch this clip from The OC first (unless you've seen the end of the second season already) - you can skip and watch from around 1:30 if you're short of time, you busy bee.

Then this bit o' gold, parodying the above:

I rest my case (assuming you could you view them - if you couldn't see the last one, try googling "Dear Sister" and SNL...)

And I didn't even have to resort to the Feylin stuff...

PS I know SNL isn't always the funniest thing on TV, but Andy Samberg, Fred Armisen, Maya Rudolph and Kenan Thompson, to name a few, are the mutha 'uckin' bomb, yo.

PPS If you think this post is just an excuse to post my favourite SNL moments, well that's just, like, your opinion, man.

PPPS You make a good point - I might need to look at less transparent ways of writing about stuff I like, rather than just ranting about stuff I don't. Maybe it's time I invented the anti-rant?

Thursday, October 16, 2008

And justice for the rich, white sportsmen

So, it looks like Wayne Carey is allowed to assault police officers with impunity.
Sorry, I should mention he did get punished – it cost him a $500 donation…
I'm assuming that if he was poor black man who assaulted two of Miami's finest, he also would have got away with no conviction? Or would he have received the 15 year maximum jail term that was on the table?
Hmmm...
(I use both types of argument in this piece: sarcastic AND rhetorical...)

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The Fat shall inherit my seat

So, still travelling for work, and I’m actually currently ranting from sunny Brisbane, where the Australia v Qatar game is underway as I write. I went on a pub crawl by myself – purely to test out Brisbane’s various English and Irish themed pubs and their beers, not to invite accusations of alcoholism – and got to hang out with a hundred drunk Australians all wearing, saying and drinking the same things at the Pig & Whistle on the Brisbane River. Brings a sarcastic tear of nationalistic pride to my eye…

Anyhoo, flew back to Melbourne from Sydney two nights ago, and managed to get on to an earlier flight and still get an exit-row seat, about which I was very chuffed (clumsy, but I think that’s grammatically correct. Should I have said "chuffed, was I"? Or that it chuffed me? That my chuff levels were increased? WHAT THE HELL IS “CHUFF”?!?!)

But then, as I approached my seat, my chuff levels noticeably decreased. Sitting in the chair next to mine, and overflowing a little into it, was one of those obese people one hears so much about.
I’d got the leg room I’d been so concerned about, but had clearly needed to sacrifice some arm and other-body-parts room in the process.

In inverse proportion to my reduction in chuff, I felt an increase in irrational anger. How dare this guy that I don’t know and who might be quite nice but who has obviously eaten one (hundred) too many hamburgers impinge on my personal comfort for an hour-and-a-half or so? And I don’t want to hear about hormones and gland problems meaning some people can’t help it if they’re Fat. That just means they need to go for a walk and eat less cheese than the rest of us. AND pay for two seats, or sit in Business Class, when they catch a plane. What’s that you say? It’s unfair that due to a health issue they need to expend more money than other persons not subjected to said health issue? Well, I’m short-sighted, and I need to pay for glasses and/or contact lenses (especially replacements when I have also paid for alcohol and a ticket to a TISM concert). Boo-hoo! I pay it, complain a little, and move on! Why are Fat people so special?!? Why do they get special politically-correct terms like “Biggest Loser” when we visually-impaired people have to play the cards we were dealt? Just because there’s more of them than us?!?!?

So I sat next to this Brontosaurus a little peeved.

And then he made it worse.

He asked for his specially-ordered salad when the food cart came around and, when told that due to his change in planes there was no salad, no salad today, he simply asked for an orange juice.

Oh right! Way to make me feel bad for my prejudicial and judgmental view of you!! Like, it’s my fault, and the fault of slim people and magazine editors everywhere, that Fat people get such a raw deal in our society, and you’re really trying to improve yourself.

The nerve.

To add insult to inability-to-use-the-arm-rest injury, he struck up a conversation with the air steward and seemed like a really nice guy.

So I’m the cock, now?

Got home all right, though. Drank about 10 HighTail Ales and ate some corn chips.

Slim King.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Follow the Follower

I’ve just discovered that someone is Following (note the capital "F" - very important) my blog – Hi Fenz!

This changes everything – before I was ranting into the void on the assumption that no-one was reading (despite the fact I was putting these rants out on the most public void, or series of voids, available). Not even me.

But now that I know at least one person is reading, I’d better write for an audience.

So, uh, like, what’s with all that stuff going on?!?

Hmmm, haven’t exactly improved, yet. Must work on that.

For now, Fenz has inspired me to make my Following of some blogs out there equally public. I realise I’ve got my Blog List o’ One, but I think it’s time I recognised:

Plus I'll look at adding more...

I'm gonna add some gadgets on the sidebar, too, so if you want to Follow This Blog, Get On It!!

CAPITAL LETTERS RULE OK!!!

PS This is not a blog, but in my searches of the internets, I found this guy’s Weenish/Piratey comment: “I spend a lot of time thinking about: Boognish or Flying Spaghetti Monster... where should my loyalties be.” Good question, "this guy", good question.

PPS Mr Sirmarco seems to have copied my idea for a blog before I even thought of it. Plus, not only did he do it years earlier, but it seems he's also done it better. Nice work, Sir Sirmarco.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Blast from the Past II - Now with more Past!!!

Here's some more rantings from my Tassie ancestor, Joseph Salmon, this time a few weeks later in 1838.

He talks of being attacked by various individuals, but I must admit he is guilty of one thing: Excessive Comma Usage.


True Colonist, 19 December 1838:

To the Editor of the True Colonist.

SIR, – Permit me through the medium of your independent Journal to give the public a further specimen of Justice ****** at Oatlands ; About a fortnight ago, he dined and spent the evening with our respected Chaplain, where I understand the wine was of the choicest description, and on his return to his rural retreat, one of his female servants who is subject to fits, fell down on the road that leads to his worship’s residence, two persons who happened to be travelling on that road, found this poor woman laying on the highway, and rendered her all the assistance they could, however, when the poor woman recovered her senses, she screamed out, and Charles Harrison, his worship’s butler came to know what was amiss with her, at the same moment his worship of Oatlands came up and ordered his faithful butler, to take one of the men into custody, and had him sent to gaol, being a convict, the other was a native youth named McCoy. Mr Whitford gave his horsewhip to Harrison and ordered him to beat McCoy, which Harrison did, the poor lad was beat to a degree that he could not reach his home or where he was travelling to, and was obliged to lay in the bush all night, where he was found the next morning by some shepherds, the poor lad was obliged to be conveyed into Oatlands next day in a cart, and placed under the hands of Doctor Park, and having his head greatly bruised and both his eyes entirely shut up for several days. This poor simple lad was billeted upon constable Samuel Smith, who was very kind and attentive to him, during his convalescence, and Doctor Park attended him, who is to paid by Harrison for his trouble. These are fine tricks played by the preserver of the peace at Oatlands. On Friday last, the Quarter Sessions was held at Oatlands, where his worship the Police Magistrate presided as Deputy Chairman, who with Messrs Anstey and Harrison, formed the bench, several unfortunate persons were convicted and sentenced by his worship of Oatlands, among the rest was placed at the bar, a person whose name is Pinnegar, who had been clerk of the public works of Oatlands, under the superintendence of Captain Peddie, and was also confidential clerk, cash and book-keeper, to the celebrated George Dudfield, upon whom Mr Pinnegar happened to forge several cheques and orders for sums of money to a considerable amount, and for which offence Mr Dudfield had Pinnegar committed to take his trial at the Quarter Sessions, he was accordingly put to the bar for trial, Mr Whitefoord pronounced the man Pinnegar guilty!! and passed sentence of transportation for life upon him beyond the high seas but at the same time informed him, that in consideration of the useful information which he made during his incarceration, that the bench would recommend him favourably to the government, and prevent him from being sent to a Penal Settlement. All this was done although the prosecutor Dudfield was in Hobart Town, what a farce to try, convict and sentence a man without any prosecutor, but there were very cogent reasons for all this, Pinnegar had been very useful to Mr Dudfield, in drawing up warrants of attorney, bills of exchange, and many other precious documents which could not well be entrusted to professional gentlemen, and particularly in one instance a warrant of attorney said to be executed in favour of Dudfield, by one Samuel Hall, the lime contractor for the public works at Oatlands, upon which judgment has been entered up, execution issued, and the poor man’s property sold by the Sheriff, although Hall most solemnly declares he never executed any such instrument, Pinnegar is the subscribing witness to it, and the matter is now subject of enquiry before the Supreme Court, Pinnegar must be treated kindly, and Mr Dudfield has declared he will not hurt the hair of Pinnegar’s head, and as a proof of the P.M.’s kind feelings towards Pinnegar he has an indulgence that no other person in Oatlands has ever experienced, he is allowed the use of pen, ink and paper, and every other comfort which he is able to procure, a servant to wait on him, clean his shoes, and brush his clothes &c, &c. However, all the kindness and good words which Mr W gave Pinnegar as passing sentence on him for life had not the desired effect on him. He said you may do as you think proper gentlemen, but I am not yet tried nor will submit to the sentence, after all this loss of time, Mr Whitefoord then asked Pinnegar if he had not pleaded guilt to the charge in the indictment, he replied in the negative, the chairman then enquired of the other Magistrates if Pinnegar had not pleaded guilty, they replied they thought so, but he obstinately denied the plea, and was remanded. Can you Mr Editor inform me whether or not, it will be legal to put Mr Pinnegar again upon trial for the same offence, for my own part I think he stands acquitted, having been put upon his trial, and no prosecutor having appeared against him entitled him to be discharged, how can the record of guilty made by the deputy clerk of the peace be entered in the record book, the fact is that Pinnegar is in the way of Dudfield at present and if he can be sent off without Dudfield appearing against him it will be well, then Mr D is still the friend of Pinnegar, Dudfield is well aware of Pinnegar’s abilities and how much he is in his power, Pinnegar was clerk of the public works at Oatlands, Dudfield did all the carting at a fixed price per day, and those returns and accounts were all made out by Pinnegar, and no doubt were never diminished in their aggregate sum, it is well known that Pinnegar lived at Dudfield’s hotel, and dressed more stylishly than any other person about Oatlands, and kept a lady in lodgings, how could this be done. He declared before the bench that Dudfield owed him a large sum of money, and that he had not defrauded Dudfield, how could a man placed as he was, had money due to him from Dudfield, that is easily accounted for, they divided the spoil, but Dudfield being an old hand at that, always takes the best part and leaves his partner in guilt and crime to live upon promises and perhaps get hanged, not the first.

When Dudfield first came to Oatlands he frequently went out to stock huts, concealing himself and listening to what was said by inmates, then made his communications to None so Dusty, and had several fined and imprisoned, by which means he ingraciated himself with that cunning *** ; but old Greynard now keeps his den very close. Your exposition on the Table Mountain affair has put him from prowling abroad, still he is at the bottom of all that is done, by his friend Dudfield.

The Editor of the Courier feels indignant at me, and speaks in no measured terms of slander and abuse of a tradesperson in Oatlands, in a late number of your journal, in which he calls the writer by several set names, such as fool, strange scribe, and says my nearest relations have long since discountenanced me, but what has that to do with the public? – surely that is not a sufficient reason for Magistrates to countenance the wicked practices of Dudfield, and a host of horse and cattle stealers; but the Editor must say something in favor, if possible, of his relations and supporters; but the facts are stubborn things, and speak for themselves. You have put an extinguisher on the slaughtering of the Table Mountain cattle – no cheap beef now sent to Mr Dudfield’s for sale ; some time ago it was common on a Sunday morning to see a cart load of beef for sale at his door. What will the mild, polished, and polite Editor of the Courier say to this? Can he or his supporters deny it – or can he or them charge me with anything dishonest? No – I defy them. I am an enemy to small thieves and also to great ones. My family quarrels have nothing to do with the public – they are quite uninteresting to it. Will your readers believe that some time ago John Weeding’s dogs killed three sheep belonging to None so Dusty, for which Mr Weeding paid him £7, but demanded the dead carcasses, None so Dusty would not let him have them, but sold the meat at 6d per lb to his stonemasons, by which he had double price for his sheep – was this honest? Can the sapient Editor of the Courier bring any such dishonest dealings against

JOSEPH SALMON


For the record, I think "None so Dusty" is Thomas Anstey, a wealthy landowner and former Magistrate himself.

I don't have anything else from Joseph at this stage (although most of these characters appear in the Supreme Court case In re Dudfield later that year, regarding Dudfield's eventual insolvency, as well as in a Tassie game called "Skulduggery: Forging for Fools"), but I would like to point out that Joseph was tragically killed in 1846 on the road from Green Ponds to Oatlands - the wheel of the wagon he was travelling with crushed his head.

I know: Ouch.

Bit of a strange way to go, I reckon - how does one's head get under one's wagon wheel for the crushing to occur? Well, I have a copy of the inquest, and it seems there were no witnesses, so we'll probably never know. The inquest simply concluded it was an accident. Oh, and incidentally, the name of the coroner presiding over the inquest?

John Whitefoord.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Blast from the past

I'm still struggling to keep up with all of the things sticking in my clearly ample craw (a quick one: since the Chinese people seem so upset at their Government for allowing companies to kill their babies, why don't they rise up in revolt? Isn't that what Chinese communists do? Or at least, that's what someone I know who never wants to visit China reckons...), so I thought I'd post a rant by an ancestor of mine - from 1837. Good to see that writing to whoever will listen to complain about anything in particular runs in the blood.

Though, to be fair, it seems like this ancestor of mine did have some legitimate concerns...

Anyhoo, this was printed in the True Colonist newspaper in Hobart Town, Van Diemen's Land, on Friday, December 22 1837 (for the record, Joseph Salmon and his family were apparently the first free settlers to come out to Tasmania directly from England - check out his Dad's entry at the Australian Dictionary of Biography):

How Captain Forster and his deputies now rule this colony will appear from the following correspondence sent to us for publication by Mr Joseph Salmon. For writing to us exposing a very small portion of the Oatlands system, Mr Andrews, Police Clerk, was dismissed from his office. He has, we understand, since, in his own justification, laid a full statement of the Oatlands proceedings through Captain Forster before Sir John. But, as usual, Mr Whitefoord’s explanation was quite satisfactory. But, wherein that satisfaction consisted, no one can tell – for according to the system Mr Andrew was not permitted to see Mr Whitefoord’s answer. Mr Salmon’s letter says a great deal. The horde of horse stealers to which he refers are the very interesting family which the well-informed Sydney Monitor quoting from a highly respectable and very enlightened authority here charged us with destroying. Our readers will recollect that we also put an end to the baronial sports of cattle hunting on and about the Table Mountain. We are not done with Oatlands yet, we shall enlighten both the Secretary of State and some members of Parliament on the Oatlands affair and we shall induce some of the Prison Discipline members to refer back to the special instructions which came out here with George Dudfield, and to enquire how they have been attended to ;
Mr Salmon writes as follows: –
May it please your Excellency,
I most respectfully beg leave to acquaint your Excellency, that on the 14th October last, I preferred charges against Mr Whitefoord, the Police Magistrate of the district of Oatlands, to Captain Forster, the Chief Police Magistrate, in which I alleged Mr Whitefoord had not acted towards me in an upright and
impartial manner. The following is a copy of my charge against Mr Whitefoord.
SIR, – I am under the necessity of appealing to you as Chief Police Magistrate, for reasons which will appear to you from the following statement. I reside at Oatlands, where I possess some landed property. One of my farms I let on the first of April last, on a lease for seven years after that day to one John Pollard, who was then living with George Dudfield ; Dudfield being security for the rent. Pollard placed on the farm a man named Warby, who was assigned to his service. In consequence of some representations made to you, Warby was removed and sent to Waterloo Point, his wife remaining on the farm with a person who goes by the name of Broker, but who is supposed to be a brother of Warby’s, who has fled from justice at Sydney. I have recently discovered that Pollard intended the farm for his assigned servant Warby.
Dudfield and Pollard having recently quarrelled, the latter resigned his lease to me, giving the authority to re-enter and take possession, which I attempted to do on the 5th inst, Pollard having first delivered to me the cart and bullocks which he had rented from me with the farm. He then proceeded with me
and John Newby to deliver me possession of the farm. Pollard having entered the dwelling was assaulted by Mrs Warby and another female who was with her in the house. These women threw him down, and were maltreating him, when I went in and rescued him from them. He then formally gave up possession to me. I remained in the house with Newby for a considerable time after Pollard left, when the man called Broker, and another man who has lately come from Sydney, with Mrs Warby came into the house, and soon after ordered me to quit the premises. On my refusing to go, they both assaulted me, tore my clothes, and dragged me out of the house. I immediately went to complain to Mr Whitefoord at his farm. He took my information on oath, and then issued summonses for Broker and Mrs Warby for next day at 11 o’clock, when I attended with my witnesses. We were for three hours in a very rough day kept waiting in the court yard, while George Dudfield, the friend of Mrs Warby, was closeted with the Police Magistrate, about 3 o’clock I was called in with my witnesses. Newby was alarmed by observing that the Magistrate took down his statement so as to give it a colour quite different from what he related. We found Dudfield sitting in the Magistrate’s parlour, where he remained during the whole case. The charge of assault, though clearly proved, was dismissed ; I then asked for compensation for the damage done to my coat, which a witness present, an old clothier, swore was equal to thirty shillings. Mr Whitefoord then asked the opinion of Dudfield who was not sworn, and on his opinion, awarded me 10s., adding that it was a “coat of iniquity,” as I had bought it from Mr Masters, the late jailer. It is proper to inform you that this man Broker, had been about a week before, bound in sureties to keep the peace. Mr Whitefoord advised me to destroy the lease I had granted to Pollard, as he, Pollard, had nothing to show, the duplicate being in Dudfield’s possession, who would destroy it if I would grant a new lease to Mrs Warby, and that Pollard was only a man of straw. I replied, if he is a man of straw how came you recommend him for assigned servants? I have known Pollard to have three assigned servants at one time, all on their own hands, with the knowledge of the Police Magistrate : he answered, he had your farm ; I answered, but, he had assigned servants before that, Mr Whitefoord said yes, but he was confidential superintendent for Mr Dudfield’s buildings. I came to town for the purpose of laying my information personally before you, as Chief Police Magistrate, because from the threats of Dudfield, and the overwhelming influence which he possesses over the Magistrates and Police Officers of Oatlands, I consider myself in a dangerous situation, and find that complaint to Mr Whitefoord against Dudfield, or any one in whom he takes interest is worse than useless. Finding that
indisposition prevented you from attending your office, I took the liberty of addressing this letter to you, but, as its limits will contain but a small portion of the complaint, I respectfully solicit that you will be pleased to fix a time for me to see you personally, to give my information on oath, if necessary, to obtain an inquiry into my complaint. –I have the honor to be, Sir, your obedient servant.
JOSEPH SALMON.
To Matthew Forster, Esq
C.P.M.

The following is a copy of the Chief Police Magistrate’s
reply to the above complaint.
November 14, 1837,
The Chief Police Magistrate, having submitted the complaint of Mr Joseph Salmon, preferred against the Police Magistrate, at Oatlands, together with that Officer’s observations thereon, the Lieutenant Governor considers Mr Whitefoord’s explanation, as regards his Magisterial conduct upon the occasion, referred upon the points brought forward, by Mr Joseph Salmon, as perfectly satisfactory.
Police Office, 17th Nov 1837
To Mr Joseph Salmon,
Oatlands

May it please your Excellence
I further beg leave most respectfully to state that when I preferred my complaint to Mr Whitefoord against the above named Broker, I told him that I had good reason to believe that Broker was a person who had fled from justice, and was brother to the convict Warby, the notorious cattle stealer, transported to this Colony from New South Wales, now a constable at Waterloo Point, Mrs Warby, has only returned from New South Wales in October last, and brought with her two persons who have been living with her upon my farm for some weeks. However, the man Broker, and the Sydney speculators, have been detected with three stolen horses, which they have taken from the district of Oatlands, two from Mr Commissary Roberts’s farm, at the Blue Hills, and one from Mr Stanfield’s ; those misguided men are now in gaol at Launceston, for horse stealing, and several charges of forgery as well.
My farm and paddocks were a receptacle for horse stealers and forgers, and yet Mr Whitfoord would not listen to my suggestions, if he had the Government would not now be at the weighty expense of prosecuting them, nor would my neighbours have lost their horses, some were killed by hard riding, but these men were benefactors and friends to the celebrated George Dudfield, who is well-known both here and in London. Dudfield has lived all his life by ****** and *******, and now carries on his old system by permission. Under all the foregoing circumstances I hope your Excellency will review my case, and cause Dudfield to get his living by some honest means *** Every thing I have stated about Dudfield is true, and is any person who will support such ******** a fit or proper person to fill the responsible situation of Police Magistrate of any district. Even the convict constables are ready in attendance at Mr Dudfield’s call. No longer ago than Monday last, Dudfield came to my farm, accompanied by one of them and two of his assigned servants, he was armed with a large stick or
bludgeon, with which he struck me on the head, at my own house, but complaint to the Police Magistrate was useless, nay worse than useless, I therefore appeal to your Excellency, and shall publish the whole of the above circumstances for the information of my fellow colonists. Indeed, I could say much more about Dudfield and his friend the Police Magistrate. The felon constables are some of them at this moment employed by Mr Whitefoord making hurdles for his shepherd – that is the way those indolent fellows keep in with their master.
Every thing I have stated in the foregoing is true, and much more, which I wish to publish when you think proper. I have sent by this post an exact copy of the above to Sir John, that the world may know how we are used here by Dudfield, and his friend the Police Magistrate. If you think proper to alter the wording of any part of this you are at liberty so to do, as writing is not my profession, but I shall if called upon prove the whole and much more – I dare the parties. Perhaps you could inform me whether or not it is consistent with the Police regulations for Police Magistrates to reside two or three miles from their public office, and to employ the constables paid for other duties to work for them on their farms, I mean their rented farms. When Mr Murdoch was Police Magistrate at Oatlands all was harmony and good will, not a single complaint was ever uttered against that honest upright man. Peace be with him. – I am, sir, you obedient and very humble servant,
JOSEPH SALMON
To the Editor of the True Colonist
Stand by for more exciting correspondence regarding the pitfalls of living in Oatlands in 1838...