Brimbank Labor's oldest platform
News that former City of Brimbank mayor Charlie Apap has been convicted for indecent assault puts the spotlight once again on some of the more unsavoury history of the ALP in Melbourne's western suburbs, as a number of press reports show.
Labor Party identity Apap, 70 is known locally as a rent collector. He was found guilty in the Sunshine magistrate's court of putting his hand down the back of a 20 year old mother's jeans and underwear while collecting her rent.
Adding insult to injury, as the Leader reports "The landlord made a subsequent application for lost rent money due to the tenant giving insufficient notice before vacating the premises".
Apap is no stranger to the court, having previously been involved in a dispute over unpaid printing bills for Labor candidates at a Brimbank council election. At the last election five councillors did not declare any contributions to their electoral campaigns.
One of the councillors, Ken Capar, subsequently got into hot water at a New Zealand conference while on a council-funded junket for the Keilor Cemetery Trust. According to reports Capar remained drunk for the full three days of the conference, and was unfortunate enough on his return to wake up and see the headline "I was drunk" plastered on the front pages.
According to the local Star newspaper two women reported alleged sexual advances by Cr Capar. The story continues
"Cr Capar admitted being intoxicated on Thursday 10 October during the last day of the conference but in a letter to the Keilor Cemetery Trust he objected to allegations which included making inappropriate sexual advances to female and male delegates."
To cap it off hotel security staff later found him in possession of certain items that had been reported missing by other delegates.
Sexual harassment and theft by a councillor would not normally be rewarded. Capar resigned from the Cemetery Trust in disgrace but remains a sitting Brimbank councillor, no doubt grateful for the complexities of trans-Tasman litigation.
Chairwoman of the Trust at the time was Brimbank's Deputy Mayor Kathryn Eriksson, forced to endure the full three days of Capar's ratepayer-funded extravagance. With talk of police charges however she defended her colleague and in doing so submitted herself to public humiliation, saying
"It's a disgrace that we (the trust and council) can't communicate between ourselves. To have people turn around and say that we're going on junkets just because of one person behaved inappropriately, I find it really sad."
Indeed it is. Even more sadly Deputy Mayor Eriksson is also known as the wife of former Labor Minister Andrew Theophanous who became the first sitting member of parliament to be gaoled for bribery, conspiracy to defraud the Commonwealth and corruption.
Evidence submitted at his trial alleged that in rorting the immigration system he wasn't just seeking money, but also sexual gratification. An NCA tape recording has him saying "Maybe next week or towards the end of the week we might have a meeting, you know, see if I like her."
Channel 9's Sunday program quotes Theophanous from the secret recordings soliciting sexual favours. "…and she is prepared to have some times with me but keep her mouth shut completely then we will do it for $100 for a year." [A discount from the standard illegal fee he was asking for from clients].
Theophanous is still seen at Brimbank Council meetings, where he occasionally bumps into his close factional ally Hakki Suleyman. Suleyman is father of Brimbank councillor Natalie Suleyman; he runs the local migrant resource centre and in his spare time works as electoral officer for Planning Minister Justin Madden.
Suleyman was the subject of a formal complaint to the council in 2005, describing his behaviour toward a woman at a council meeting as "angry, rude, confrontational and abusive" to the point where she had to ask the CEO for protection and to be escorted to her car.
A number of metropolitan papers report an alleged assault by Suleyman on a woman handing out leaflets in the street. According to the Age
"He was pulling me and I was shaking back and forth at the force. I just saw his face and I thought, 'He's going to hit me'. I then started to panic and I screamed at the top of my voice, 'You leave me alone.' And he backed off."
The Herald Sun report of the incident mentions welts and cuts left by Suleyman on the victim's arm while "A day later, his son Mehmet Suleyman, who worked for former police minister Andre Haermeyer, allegedly attacked a young man with a screwdriver -- an incident police are now investigating." The report also mentions a fist fight between the younger Suleyman and Brimbank councillor Sam Tabban, but that's another story. Stay tuned for that one.
The press reports taken together paint the ALP in the west as a party of misfits and sexual predators using intimidation in the exercise of their power: the power of the rent collector over the young tenant, the power of the drunken councillor, the power to grant or deny a visa, and the power of sheer physical force.
Suleyman daughter Natalie shares with Charlie Apap the dubious distinction of being a former mayor of Brimbank council. Along with her current duties as councillor, she works as electoral officer for the now-discredited former Police Minister and MP Andre Haermeyer. For a time she worked alongside convicted criminal Craig Otte in the same office.
Haermeyer came to prominence again more recently when the Herald Sun reported police sources alleging he tried to influence the outcome of a rape investigation by using his influence over "top cop" Noel Ashby.
Ashby for his part said it was appropriate to keep Mr Haermeyer "informed" because Mr Haermeyer had a professional relationship with the woman. Perhaps you can work that one out.
The story makes allegations about the role of the Victorian ombudsman in the case and concludes by stating the obvious - there is no crime and corruption commission in Victoria capable of investigating the misdeeds of our elected representatives.
And don't they know it.
Oh for those times of yesterday when things were simpler you could smoke cigarettes confident that if you had a few bronchial problems or other side effects - it wasn't the cigarettes. In those days you could buy nicotine insecticide, a much more potent type of the genus with two or three times the potency of nicotine tabacum apparently popular amongst the lower classes in Russia of all places who appreciated the threefold increased potency. To hell with a more detailed explanation. Can you imagine if you really wanted to smoke cigarettes every time you made your request the sales woman at Coles in Albury or Safeway in Wodonga would issue a mantra :
The most prominent phytochemical found in N. tabacum is nicotine. Nicotine binds stereospecifically to acetylcholine receptors at the autonomic ganglia, adrenal medulla, neuromuscular junctions and the brain. As a consequence of the stimulation of nicotinic receptors, possibly located on presynaptic sites, short-term exposure to nicotine results in the activation of several central nervous system neurohumoral pathways, leading to the release of acetylcholine, norepinephrine, dopamine, serotonin, vasopressin, growth hormone.
And that was even before the person behind the counter got onto all the various life threatening ailments that would befall you if you insisted in continuing your nicotine addiction. Of course not. They would say 'have a nice day' maybe 'nice to have met you'. These words would, someone whose mother had coughed her last the night before. That's why it was so much better in those days when tobacco companies could hire a specialist who couldn't find any adverse effects - we were reassured like in the Chesterfield ad. Besides in those days some doctors said that it helped those disposed to various nervous conditions. In those days we were so much more receptive to being reassured. Nowadays it's a hard task to reassure anyone because people simply don't believe you
We've all had a soft spot for Ronald Reagan
the 40th President of the United States of America.
Here he is preparing presents for his smoker friends.
He probably sent them to his smoker enemies. Thanks
for the emphysema Ron.
Nowadays scientific evidence is overwhelming
that smoking causes numerous medical conditions
of which many result in the ultimate human condition - death.
Nowadays graphic illustrations show you all sorts of diseased
body parts. You can still buy them in the shops however.
When you think about it you can't get a more ironical
insight into the human condition than that.
Borderline's heard this story from a good lady with her eyes on health issues. She told me this one which we have graphically illustrated as a warning - although we don't expect they'll put it on cigarette packets. She told me that she observed a wheelchair bound woman in the BigW car park with an oxygen cylinder strapped to her back enjoying a cigarette. Every time she wanted a puff she would pull the mask supplying the oxygen from her face have a puff and put the mask back in place. Oxygen, petrol fumes. Should've her wheelchair have had one of those fire hazard signs.
Back then you could make all types of claims about this or that. Of course that doesn't necessarily mean the demise of the snake oil salesperson it's just the message has got a bit more sophisticated. The only way to avoid obesity is not to eat as much. Discipline. Then there's the matter of all those cremes and supplements to enhance 'the beautiful you'. Unfortunately in this regard you either have it or you don't. There are some things that you can control with numerous treatments like hairy arms, then again some people like hairy arms on woman. Wasn't there a bit on television about men with a liking for women with hairy arms and legs.
They call it a fetish.
Once if you were a bit skinny you were told to eat up or you were starving to death which happened mainly in faraway places. German designer, Karl Lagerfeld, has shrugged off concerns about the fashion industry's obsession with ultra-thin models. Everyone wants to be this but you rarely see evidence of it on the streets because every second person seems overweight. In the good old days there were less overweight people because you were less inclined to sit around. Perhaps it's all fantasy.
Dyslexia costs less.
The Baby Boomer generation once toyed with what one may call alternative lifestyles, most of them grew out of it although there are a few
whose minds addled by drug addiction and reading Timothy Leary whose mantra turn on, tune in and drop out persisted. Even their offspring have turned full circle preferring more tactile experiences. Nowadays if you said 'peace man', to a member of Generation X, Y or Z (there are other sub genres but we we won't go down that way) they would probably think we were insane. Now with such a wide variety of various drugs the propensity to examine the innermost confines of the mind has been replaced by just having a good time. Drugs such as ecstasy and crack usually ensure you do have a good time until you 'come down' and want to knife someone due to a horrendous bout of paranoia. Borderline remembers some TV show where a New York policeman was reminiscing (read nostalgia) about the good old days. 'Then it was mainly heroin and they were like pussycats when you had to make an arrest. Now they're on crack or whatever and they're more likely to reach behind the couch, grab a high powered automatic weapon and take you out there and then'. Pure nostalgia. Then it comes to career choice and your finest all join the army because they want to make a difference. You tell them that there are any number of careers where you could make a difference. That's what they told them when they went to Vietnam. The images are really nostalgic. Good against evil. But it wasn't like that, nalpalm, agent orange, ideology. What a mix. What a waste.
Borderline can remember when there were hardly any restaurants
in Albury Wodonga. You didn't have any fast food outlets. You just went to the local cafe to order a hamburger. Some people get nostalgic about the good old hamburger. It's hard to understand why - what went into the meat patties one can only guess. Today we live in the age of the celebrity cook.
Celebrity cooks are an abomination who hog far too much airtime. Respectable know-alls. Nigella Lawson (above right) is one of England's most famous celebrity cooks and apparently England's most beautiful woman not to mention a bit of a philosopher, check this out for for a pearl of wisdom; ...in a funny way, each death is different and you mourn each death differently and each death brings back the death you mourned earlier and you get into a bit of a pile-up... What about the poor bastard on the above left. Just because he got a bit confused about a ham and mustard sandwich doesn't lower him in the sight of God. Have you had a non franchised hamburger 'with the lot' recently. Deliriously disgusting when the beetroot slips out onto your trousers and the egg yolk embeds itself into your shirt. Apparently when you get a Big Mac the quality control is the same the world over. Borderline got a hamburger in a place in Victoria and noticed that the beef pattie had an overwhelming taste of sausage mince and was told that it was due to the bushfires but didn't elaborate. As a sign of good faith he presented us with two potato cakes. Once upon a time potato cakes were made on the premises. Now they're made from inside some factory with mashed potato pumped into templates of uniform depth and circumference, instantly deep frozen, and dispatched around the country. It was a terrible time to lapse into a nostalgic interlude. Then when he said that it was a public holiday and a surcharge of $3 dollars applies things really got heated. When you go to a franchised operation they are on the whole serious when they say 'have a nice day and if you have a complaint it goes by a true and trusted procedure'. Not in this particular cafe.
Sometimes things never change. The used car salesman is a case in point. In those days you could fill the gearbox up with banana peels (very effective in eradicating unsettling noises in the gear box) winding the speedometer back, and puttying all the rust holes and say the car was as they say driven by a little old lady who only drove it to church. Those were the good old days. There was no consumer protection then. You just went back to the salesmen who would greet you like a long lost friend. When you explained the situation his demeanour would transform into a antagonistic, aggressive bastard. When you realised that you would get no satisfaction or your money back you would seek solace with your fists leaving the salesman sprawled dazed and bleeding over the FJ that had only done 200 miles. Nowadays it's usually a call centre from India who will make you an offer. Of course there's a certain type who likes to abuse them. Water over a ducks back. Which reminds us of an Albury gentleman whose favourite party trick was to ring up the time.... at the fourth stroke it will be 7.42 and seconds... we don't know when he realised the time even then was generated with an electonic/mechanical device. But it was a few years before he realised those assembled were laughing at him rather than the more traditional other way around.
There was a stage when we all believed in Santa. You always had those smart-arsed types who professed intellectual superiority and tried to convince you that Santa didn't exist. Then came the stage where you wanted to believe but the rationality of Santa living in the north pole with all his little elves and reindeer was just a bit too much. Then came the proposition that he must have been a bit of a deviant. Although Anchorage is not that far away where drink and prostitutes are freely available. Nowadays you can't escape it. Even nostalgic parents who put the old stocking on the mantelpiece and a bottle of stout for a thirsty Santa would find it hard to explain that the X Box and everything else was made in China. In fact what can you fit in a stocking these days - bloody nothing. Besides what can you put in a small almost pathetic Christman stocking. Hang on when you think about it quite a lot; an Ipod, BlackBerry Bold 9700, half a dozen Blu-Ray disks. a Rolex. Big things do come in small packages. It's only the peasants who want bulk.
Rubens (1577 - 1640) reflected the age of the 'fuller figure' look at the cherubs even these poor little blighters fail to fulfil the weight/height ratio.
One could suppose that if anyone was to be rendered thin then he might have been delving into social realism and portraying the malnourished, infirm or various other losers that have frequented every age since Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden after succumbing to the forbidden apple. You couldn't tempt people with an apple these days could you. If you tried it you would be considered a fool. Pity really and Anecdotal evidence from his time suggests Rubens wasn't much into social realism. He was too busy having a good time. Which reminds us of a Jimmy Swaggart
Once we all thought Australia were all good sports, because we are a sports loving country, and a great sports country. Just the thought of descending into the more mediocre list of average gold winners sends many Australians into deep nostalgia. Nowadays these most overpaid morons it seems are forever on your television screen confessing that they have profoundly sinned when they were found paralytic wondering the corridors of some hotel looking for something v - usually their key. The club issues a statement that 'this troubled' soul' is undergoing counseling and the club is deeply embarrassed. Only the most nostalgic and those in the later stages of their dotage can remember the notion of sportsmanship and that is usually where good sportsmanship and my problem will be on the wagon for the foreseeable future. Look at the third test Australia vs West Indies, Ricky Ponting said he was embarrassed by his team's behaviour.
That's if anyone is watching. Because now there is really only token respect for test cricket, now there's 20/20. That's the thing about things now everyone wants a result as quickly as possible. That's because as we hurtle towards the grave, young or old we want as many results as possible. Of course we hold grudges like when that dago stopped our accent into further glories in the last world cup by tailing a fall. A lot of people believe IFIA is controlled by the Mafia and a few other assorted European interests. What hope have we got.
Jimmy Swaggart rallied against evil. Borderline has followed his career with interest "I have sinned against you, my Lord, and I would ask that your precious blood would wash and cleanse every stain until it is in the seas of God's forgiveness," when he was found out for procuring the services of prostitutes. He was to use psychological parlance, a bit of a deviant was Jimmy especially when he got a couple of prostitutes to present a tableaux of erotic situations. Still he forgave himself and he's still going strong.
Christmas/New Year is a time for nostalgia but sometimes it gets a bit mixed up.
Jimmy Swaggart's latest Cd is still going strong. Borderline remembers his other tears when he once announced the most sinful of all songs.
'Hell can wait because I'm having a good time'. A lot of people think Jimmy's attempt at repentance has all been one big act. We've all gotta live.
When the rot set in. The advent of television in Australia, we, just like the rest of the world led to a complete change in the way we live. We eat in front of the television. Then with the internet we have become electronically connected to the rest of the world. Cynics would suggest that it's a perfect medium not so much to internationalise the world but to renew and encourage traditional aspects of tribalism. Look at the United Nations, the tribes meet in the General Assembly - they can issue all the declarations they want and it counts for zilch because it's the Security Council that really matters and they are no more interested in upholding the Universal Declaration of Human Rights agreed to on December 10, 1948 than Bin Laden sending a card to Christmas Barack. What they are mainly concerned is exercising their power of veto to protect their own national interest. Nowadays we can watch it all on the screen - but we don't do much about it because being a spectator these days doesn't allow you much time to do anything about it - except to hone in your opinion about everything which is usually a half baked assumption about just about anything. Like the bloke who is dying and he confesses to all assembled that he didn't know much about anything really. 'Who won the premiership in 1966?' 'Saint Kilda by a point - the bastards!' See dad you know a lot.' 'You're right son, but I would have preferred a question that had a bit more to do with it it - something about meaning . 'What you mean like who played centre in the 1910 grand final?' 'Jack McHale,' comes the feeble reply. 'Yeah that's it son, but your wife with the cue card at the end of the bed doesn't really enter into the spirit'. His surname was almost obliterated by her Carlton scarf!' In life and death some things never change.
Ah Geoffrey - the little crook. He set up his own website to counter malicious biographies about his 'past' as explained in Wikipedia. Geoffrey explains that he is an exceptionally good man and maintains 'that it is widely accepted that his conviction was wrongful'. Geoffrey made a fortune out of bulk billing - he was Australia's first mega medical entrepreneur. When he married 25-year-old fitness instructor fiancee, Brynne, in a $2 million extravaganza. It was attended by a fairly extensive celebrity pack that would hover between B and C if you were to give the gathering a definitive social standing. Don't you just love him. His coiffure and matching shirt and tie give some semblance of eternal youth. Money might buy happiness but when it comes to good taste in Geoffrey's case it's highly problematical. She'll have him on the treadmill - what with that botox a few surgical interventions. I hope he's read Oscar Wilde's Portrait of Dorian Gray, although she looks like she can handle herself.
When the developed world told the 'certain members' of developing world that has sabotaged Copenhagen there was the belief that we're all in it together. The trouble is a lot of the population of developing countries aren't in it all. Come on guys. Don't they want a a couple of square meals a day, having running water - a nice house with a mortgage, a couple of television sets, a car, a nice Christmas dinner- an OS holiday every now and again. Don't they want what we (most of us anyhow) have all taken for granted. I remember when Borderline published a piece in an intellectual send up a inconsequential arts magazine. The editor used the piece as having no subtlety, to address the problems of poverty and starvation to attack the author of this particular as lacking in subtlety. Irony and wit should be at the forefront. That's because we westerners can afford to interpret poverty, disease and injustice and call it art. It's a big business, Do you think Tim Costello is on rations. He's paid approximately $360,00- a year - a grand a day. A lot of charities pay top dollar because it's a very competitive business - you have to get the message through - POVERTY. Poverty doesn't come cheap.
Bernie Maddoff defrauded $65 billion in the largest Ponzi scheme in history (the exact amount will probably be never known). On June 29, 2009, Judge Chin sentenced Madoff to 150 years in federal prison. The banking system in many countries became synonymous with corporate greed. Money was plentiful - bankers gave themselves huge bonuses - even though some of them were failing. Then the whole world economy slid into recession and the taxpayer was called upon to fund a huge rescue package. Banks were bailed out. Numerous stimulus packages were put in place to restore the consumer mentality. During the Great Depression companies vanished overnight - there was no rescue packages then. Now with all these rescued banks and consumerism propped up by huge deficits the circle will undoubtedly begin again. Already banks are returning to their bold days. You know the story - don't people realise that the promise of a return in excess of more modest returns promised by more reputable financial institutions carries enormous risks. Remember Black Monday (Black Tuesday in Australia because of the time differences), October 19, 1987 when the US stock market crashed 23 per cent. Australia's All Ordinaries fell 25 percent in a single day. That was soon forgotten. Even Albury was not immune from the plughole with $6 million invested in subprime investments with Grange Securities (later bought by Lehman Brothers) seemingly down the plughole. A lot of other councils suffered a similar fate. Everyone blamed it on the current economic crisis. How convenient. Mitigating circumstances has become the appropriate catchphrase for bad management. The good thing about it is what you have to do is get so big that so that if anything should go amiss the government of the day - left or right will bail you out! Corporate Socialism. With little sacrifice to the bonus system. Look at Mr Trujillo, who ran Telstra, millions in bonus while the share price went down the plughole yet the dividends remained remarkably consistent. What a dodge, and there was no artful dodger than Mr Trujillo because any student of the conspiratorial theory would realise that all those 'mums and dads and retirees were quite happy that while the share price plummeted they still got a good return. It doesn't work like that. Not in the long run.
The strange thing about all this is that with all this poverty, a lot of countries are prepared to see their fellow countrymen die by starvation and disease than cut back on weaponry. Countries don't need to send the bucket around when it comes to buying arms, you have Bono and Geldof coming up with this simplistic notion of more aid - where's the 2 trillion dollars already given in aid to Africa for example. Where does all the money go from oil in Nigeria for example. Peter Ustinov the actor, raconteur, writer once said that you never see countries sending the hat around to buy weapons. That's the first priority. Then You buy poverty.
All things will pass. The Four horsemen will have galloped into the distance, the last judgment will have been and gone. Some people think we should start about colonising outer space to maintain the survival of the human race complete with Santa and his reindeer. Another path another journey. As Robert Frost said:
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I gave it my best shot. The festive season is a time for remembering. These nostalgic interludes always start with the best of intentions, however after a while the in-laws take exception to a passing remark said in jest. A little skeleton in the closet that causes a great deal of myrth. The trouble is it's at your expense. A few drinks later the mother-in-law tells a few of 'their side of the family' a couple home truths - no disrespect intended. Soon the brandy budding is being flung everywhere. There is a lot of brawling done on Christmas day. Usually reconciliation takes place before the police arrive and they eventually leave after a truce has been arranged by a younger member of the family negotiating a truce because he's being studying conflict resolution in year 2.
Keith Miller, Cricketer, Footballer Airman, Raconteur, Womaniser. Cricket Commentator and one of the 'Invincibles' captained by Donald Bradman in 1948.' Who forget him all those years ago after 'tea'. Normann May. Alan McGilvray One night over a bombing mission over Germany he apparently broke formation to fly over Bonn and returning a bit later said he wanted to see the Birthplace of Beethoven. They think this Keith Miller did everything with a sense of style. When he was a cricket commentator who had panache. Can you forget Keith and Norman May, and McGilvray after the 'tea' interval. You can be sure most probably that a cup of tea never passed their lips and it was usually reflected in the eclectic nature of their commentary. Nowadays the commentators lack any aspect of this long gone spirit. It is also rather dim and witless (except of course when Kerry O'Keeffe takes to the microphone. When Keith Miller once was asked how does he handle the pressure of cricket out on the field he simply said 'Pressure is a Messerschmitt up your arse'.
Sometimes nostalgia can be used to get a better sense of perspective.
Nowadays in sport the umpire, referee or anyone elected of suitable character and expertise deemed fit to adjudicate on the game is no longer the sole arbiter on the more 'moral aspect' of the game that has been taken over by the spectators. Who have more insight than every conceivable electronic device to ensure the inaccuracy of the delusion. In this instance things haven't changed much over the years except the youngest of us likely to get a cuff on the ear for bad language and an inappropriate gesture because he'd made his Holy Communion that morning and may have told the officiating priest he had future views of joining the priesthood.
Actually this is not a typical Australian Sunday dinner because Borderline just couldn't find one maybe because they have been withdrawn from circulation in the interests of multiculturalism. It was much the same in England except they had a preference for Yorkshire Pudding, a disgusting culinary additive made by cooking a nondescript batter in fat. There was also HP sauce which they used on everything. Both were resisted on by the Australian palette. Oh the nostalgia - Curried Tuna. Fry onions add large tin of tuna. Add one tablespoon of Keen's. Thicken. When you look at it culinary nostalgia is really indicative of nostalgia in general. Think about it for a moment then move on.
There were times when we all thought the end of the world was nigh. Some actively encourage it and would like to if they could access nuclear weapons. Others just want all the sinners corralled and judged. Others just see the world being destroyed by greed and and an unwillingness to share our resources. Then again physicists have said in 4,000 million years the sun will explode frying us little earthlings into cosmic dust, from whenst we came. Just how it started - cosmic dust. Dust to Dust. Children of the universe. Just because we can hold dominion over our fellow animals does not include us having sanction over the universe. Far From it.
Undistinguished from that which billions of years ago we once came. Will we be able to colonise the universe in its far flung corners and hold up George Lucas, as considered as the soothsayer of them all and L. Ron Hubbard as compulsory reading or whatever is the most technological advanced equivalent in those times - Will Mills and Boon, employees still be left on planet earth with affiliations throughout the universe, transit stories bodices and spacesuits lost in a sea of hymother\tv unfulfilled lust?
I think we better start thinking about a few alternatives.
Nostalgia Like the Moon Wans - It Comes And Goes. Yet It All Goes According To A Plan. Should We Take It That Seriously? Why Not.
What Else have We Got?
Agent Orange, some people seem to think this was was some kind of innocuous Roundup - not quiet it was a powerful dioxin - with a bit of this and a bit of that. Countless millions of people died and suffered from all types of instruments of war in the Vietnamese/Cambodian/Laotian War.
You don't see that many former politicians around at the time getting nostalgic about the Vietnam war these days. Remembering and nostalgia in collision. Nostalgia is blessed - you can put in the case of justifiable wars but a bit of sentiment in it because sometimes remembering can be sheer hell. This poor chap (above) has no time for nostalgia - remembering even. He just has to get on with it. Just another infant victim of a war that claimed millions of lives Australia lost 500 soldiers and thousands more others wondered in the Vietnam war. Now we have Iraq and Afghanistan to contend with.
Jimmy Swaggart confessing on television. The thing about Jimmy was that he was always the front of the line when it came to casting the first stone.
He set out to ruin lots of people, and when he was found out asked for a higher authority to remove his sins. He just got caught by someone with a high protectory brick.
Just beware of false prophets.
Because there's always an audience.
edit 98/k/54 not for publication
