Belgo Geordie: October 2018

Saturday, 27 October 2018

It takes real brass ter be cruel...ScoMo being brave by keeping' bairns and folk on Nauru and Manus - Rally 27 October 2018 Sydney

If there is owt tha makes Belgo Geordie blood boil, it be unnecessary cruelty ter bairns. It starts like this. Bairns are dependent on oos (adults) ter keep em safe, help 'em grow, become a citizen, knowing what a decent society looks like and how it behaves. Then keep oos when we are old by paying taxes and having been taught it's the right thing to do, protecting the vulnerable, the aged, the disabled - those needing care. The likes of me on the dribble. Boot, this mob whose bums are occupying seats in Parliament and Senate, on the whole are at best unkind, at worse, downright evil! Yes there are exceptions, them speaking out boot the main three Liberals, Nationals and Labor should be ashamed at where they stand on this issue. AND IT IS NOT A DEBATE! Bairns, wherever they coom from deserve protection, care, education and whatever sustenance required to become good folk. When 6000 Docs, thems with stethoscopes around their necks, signed a petition demanding the Government remove children from Nauru immediately, when the mix of folk hit the streets on a hot Saturday in October, when the voting folk of Wentworth - remember that bye election ScoMo? Obviously not as yer learned nowt - see Australia's abdication of responsibility ter children on Nauru - already coming here for medical treatment - they don't see it as turning back boats, they don't see it as being firm with people smugglers, they don't see it as backdoor entry inta the Looky country - they see it as part of THE GREAT BIG AUSTRALIAN SHAME! That we canna rub oop enough decency ter remove all bairns out of detention and we can't move from a fixed position of those who tried ter coom here because they thought they might establish a life in the big red that might, just might give them a better life free from war, disease and poverty. That for that they moost be punished fer eternity. Let that be an example! ScoMo train' ter make it sound like it were him who had swallowed the shit sandwiches on behalf of oos! Nae, we canna begin ter oonderstand wha' Mr Morrison and his tribe of clowns have gone threw; the pain they have experienced keeping our sovereign borders safe from...well lets be blunt...people of colour and without the brass ter buy their way in. As our indigenous folk remind oos, this is still the land of White Australia and this is still the driver on how we go aboot our business in OZCorp. Conservative, stale thinking...if it were bread, the mould would be uranium thick and joost as toxic.

The nanas' in fer the fight ScoMo...be warned!

Now fer oos paying attention we know folk going ter Manus and Nauru are bound by draconian confidentiality ter not talk aboot what they see. Some brave folk do and some docs have been shipped oot fer raising concerns tha medical and mental health treatment is not joost deficient boot punitive. On the above mentioned petition docs said " Medical experts, including doctors who have worked on Nauru, have spoken about their concerns. They report widespread, significant deterioration in physical and mental health. We call on you (the flat-earthers tha pass for Government) to show your commitment to the strong health care systems we have in Australia, which we are the guardians of, by accepting the recommendations of the many medical experts and bringing these children and families to Australia so their health needs can be met adequately, and with appropriate clinical oversight." Cant be clearer than that! These are docs who use reason and science. They don't make stoof oop. The Prime Muppet's response? "I will not put at risk any element of Australia's border protection policy." So speaks Mr Morrison, self declared muscular christian. Them's empty wurds, better used by snake oil salesman sellin charms fer piety. That it is supporting what is cruel and unjoost. Never mind, we will continue ter plough full speed ahead on the ship of sovereignty, inta icebergs and sink what little of our moral fibre thats left. Nauru has coom oop with, lets imprison them that attempts ter kill themselves. How does that deal with bairns tha attempts ter self harm? Arrest them? Pile on more misery than what they live with now. Suicide attempts on Nauru and Manus are increasing in frequency, psychological trauma acute and many folk have given oop tha will ter live, as there is no future fer resettlement. So be it says Capn Scomo - no change of course gentlemen (well there are booger all hennies left in the Liberal and National coalition ranks) - full steam ahead inta disaster. Even with wee Jacinda across in yon Shaky Isles consistently offering ter take folk so detention camps can be closed down. No says Morrison and Co - we are Victorian (Queen not state) moralists ter the core, brutal and strong in our resolve - if they all die hideous, neglected, unseen deaths - so be it - they can't be Kiwis. We might have stolen Phar Lap boot there'll be nae horse trading from goodman beadle Morrison! 'They' chose to try and penetrate our shores at the mercy of people smugglers. We saved them from dying at sea so's they can rot in Island paradises. Nowt ter do with oos. Blame Papua and Nauru, blame the people smugglers, blame folk fer getting on boats in hope of a better life and most importantly blame the bairns fer choosing the wrong parents...and blame folk who turned oop in thousands to these rallies for giving refugees false hope! Aye, the great unwashed shood joost accept its secret squirrel, yer have nae right ter know Government knows wats best. Bairns Mr Morrison. Bairns.

The bairns of Socialist Alternative - Red Flag with fine lungs "Stand Oop an Fight Back!

The time ter act has coom. As many have noticed Scott Morrison gave a speech in the Parliament this week. Summat aboot sorry fer the abuse suffered by children when the greater society of Australia turned and looked away. I despair Morrison has even an iota of insight. If he's got eyeballs in working order they are fixed on winning at all costs. He's got an election ter save. How many more photo ops till election time? He moost be fitting in at least two a day. He's joost yer regular fair dinkum bloke going about the business of trashing decency in a true tried way of not what I do, but what I say. His wurds should choke a galah, and hold as mooch substance as a dry fart in the desert.

So like good folk on this march, the Australian medical staff who refuse to discharge kids and families from Nauru back inta detention, the teachers who are going ter walk outta of school to call fer them all ter be brought here, the docs who signed the petition, we are a growing united voice and let us hope we collectively send this mob a message that on this they don't represent oos. That the Government's policy on this is imprison people indefinitely has created a situation of hopelessness where children have been traumatised on our watch, in our name and behind closed doors so the people who vote can't be informed of truly what is occurring in our name and our shame. This moost end and the Government, if they have balls, should open the doors ter let the people who voted them in see what has been done on Nauru and Manus in our name. Its all-out transparency Scotty...tell folk the money you've spent on cruelty in the tax payers name. Tell oos what it looks like, show oos the flash clinics, hotel like accomodation and superb, great big support services tax payers are paying for. And take the muzzle of folk who go there, work there. If there is nowt ter hide, let folk who know speak. Support MSF to work there and give the people in incarceration/detention hope to heal. Give them back a future. Yer Nazarene yer worship would ha done that, but not you, yer happy clappy view of the world seems to be missing a heart, lacking compassion and coom the election mabe yer will have more time ter reflect how oot of step yer are in thinking yer have owt ter contribute to a decent society and a more congruent Australian future.

A'm not sure these wee lasses knew this were not party central

Media said hundreds ter a thousand, I counted 5063, 15 hounds and in the mix, loads of bairns in tutus

Teachers union beneath the Jacaranda

Oy Belgo! Wot did I say? "Bring 'em here!" I said when they attack refugees what do we do? We stand oop and fight back Miss!

This were one part, count heads, then times 50 segments = lotta folk out on a walkabout in Sydney Town more than hundreds

Aye, Mr Lee always there with the dawg and friendly polis and working on Tony...its a v

And see: https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2018/oct/27/how-australia-finally-started-to-care-about-asylum-seekers-and-refugees-on-nauru

Tha's right, bairns are not footballs

And as Mrs Belgo Geordie pointed the bairns will require all of our support to recover when they come to Australia, and at the price were paying oot now is right, $573,000 per person per year being kept in detention would be better spent on good medical, counselling and settlement services here. And provide good, meaningful jobs.

$573000 per person (refugee) per year, it takes a lot of money to be this cruel...spend it on resettlement

Friday, 5 October 2018

CROCITUS: THE NORTH BIRD

On doosty wings across the watter saphire

Flew yon corbie, hooded and low

A craick as cracked stone its song

An arra let loose, then nae more

Oop above rock and crag

Where yon raptors circle slow

A warm breath slow dance of death

The zephyr, its touch an itch nivvor t’ let go!

Aye, doon where watter an’ sand kiss

A boat is launched

Sick green with sap, a white sail

Caulked an’ good high heed

Aye an’ on board mariners they sing

The song of death is this the sailors’ song

“How way me lads, push and how way, on breaking wave

There be islands t’ take, and seas t’ conquer.

And folk t’ fight, bury and put t’ flight!

Where watter falls, t’ the end of the earth

There we go. T’ hell and heaven the one ride

The thrill, blood, sweat and t’ spill

T’ tok treasures and earn our keep.

T’ drink and take our pleasures oot on the wild sea

Let’ oos be Gone!”

They shout and going oot past the tide
They ride atop the waves, nivoor a look back

Putting t’ sea, generation afta generation

Son following their da, t’ fight

And die in wars not of their making

Fer slaughter and slaughtering

Across islands of folk like thems they left at home

An’ their blood runs hot and then chills t’ cold

Thickens tar black beneath the hotting sun

A pulse weakens and stops all fight gone

The men, the men those who dont coom hayme

And another hoose sits empty

Or burns, or falls or crumbles

Ma’s an’ widdas grieve

Women bloodied and reived in madness

Tear dresses and rub ashes, grind the bones of bairns

Make bam cakes from bitter flour of kelp

And still the tides role

Oot in watter deeper than light can see

The lover, seal currents and shoals of fish

Kiss white boned faces in fluorescent silt

And in watters deep and watters still as death

Cities, towns, villages, hooses, awl long doost

And to the wind tossed grit corbies them still fly

Craik! craik on the dying breath of a zephyr

And still the sailors moost row

Seaweed hair aglow, hand 'n hand

With the octopus, barnacle and gravestone of shell

Island to Lotus Island, old dreams of riches

Of men, of men wearied of being men

Into fate and eternal sunsets’, they row

Above and beyond drowned Gods exact their toll

And above them the raptors dance in ever slower diminishing circles

And so, it is and always so it has been

In amidst these Islands of beauty

So, it is, the sirens call, no need of rocks

To sink a ship and drown men by the score

And so, it is, men, women and children

On these waters set sail to make an Island shore

Where safety may gather and rest to begin the great walk

To Northern European shores, streets and camps

Or to lie on the side of roads, train tracks, by fences
Ter say nae more, nae more!

And what is this I see?

A boat roon aground

Its prow in the golden sand

And men joomping oot

It is folly, an aged old folly

Reminted anew

But row me boys, row

To yet another island beyond

An island and another island

The blood red seas

On a stoop awld men sit

An’ crack tales beneath the feeble sun

Slowly sup their ale, heroes

Boot not sooch like those who did not come back.

“How way lads, how way.”

An’ death responds

“Come me marras, t’ me and the darkness,

where no stars light ye path and the tears fall

Sooch t’ fill an ocean grander than dreams. T’ me! T’ me”

The song of the sailor, the siren’s call

And they do, we do, we sail on and on.

Crete September 2015

Where have all the anarchists gone...driven oot of Newtown: Return of the poster plasterers

Aye, it were a bit quiet of late. On me walks, the walls a bit empty of messages other than advertising. A year on from going under the knife and surgeon moost have cut oot the bits that ink me pen or me inspiration were gassed by anaesthetic. Or creeping mists of awld age. Its enough ter work and keep oop with being union shop steward. I feel a bit chumbawamba "I get knocked doon, an' I think long and hard aboot getting oop again, boot yer can't keep me doon...well maybe I'll have a wee rest aboot now. I need a watta drink, an iron tablet an a bit of sitting' doon." Boot I still go walking every Sunday with me marra Sam oop to Newtown and Saturday's with Mrs Belgo Geordie ter co-op and sit down ter full breakfast of rashers and trimmings.

An' ah miss the messages aboot mayhem on streets an' borax poked at owt right of Mr Marx, Engels and Trotsky and coompany. An' owt financial, raze it ta ground, liberate and redistribute, then have a tab an' an ale. Aye it were me thought, not many these days, tha' Newtown had spat oop the fur ball of anarchy, diversity and acceptable levels of weirdness, awaiting the triumphal march of turning politically pale blue with a tinge of rose and mint green. An end of the days where every available surface were slathered with political post-its from yon merry band (well not merry more snarly) of lads and lasses of anarchy. Newtown walls seems ter have been reduced ter a trickle amongst music posters, advertising, lost pets, make yer fortune pyramid selling, selling flat mates and flat mates wanted - all on A4 paper scraps.

On me travels I notice the anarchist driven poster factories tend ter plaster surfaces in Lakemba, Campsie and even Marrickville more so than Newtown. And last May Day the hoard in black with red triangles of flags were, well, not many if any. Some were surfacing in Socialist Alliance. A lad from that group I talked to said anarchist activism were more to stalk and take on the growing number of splintering white supremacist groups. Summat the rest of oos on communist an' socialist left aren't keeping oop with in the Trump/Abbot/Dutton/Morrison era. And not being a society like, the anarchists since the loss of Black Rose in Enmore, were in oor small neck of woods, smaller cells and collectives that ebbed, formed and did their own thing then vanished spider like in their black y-fronts an red capes and laser eyes inta the shadders.

So it were grand on recent ganders oop ter Newtown metropolis ter see the return of the black and red anarchomob posters plastering oop and doon the corridor of King Street. Roobbish bins, shop windas, door posts, stationary dogs and across advertising dross. So in a tip of me flat cap, I post a recent selection tha made me stop, or think, chuckle or snort thru the tangled hairs in me nostrils. Enjoy.

Belgo-Geordie moost declare a conflict of interest in tha' he thinks there is nowt so grand than a large group of citizens oot on streets making' themselves heard aboot the stoof that matters ter them and apologises that of late he has not been able to take part in sooch moments boot is working oot and eating' his radishes ter get back oop ter shape...