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Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2015 4:48 pm
by Cate
Boss, a well thought out piece that I've read through a couple of times now.

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 2:03 am
by Boss
On a house
On a house
image.jpg (40.2 KiB) Viewed 1387 times

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 12:27 am
by Boss
An exception to the rule, a beautiful man. President Abraham Lincoln early on in 1860 and his last photo as president in February, 1865 - 150 years ago. May he be with God now. May men of his calibre, of his courage, come to the fore. May we know a world where not one slave exists - not one.
Lincoln in 1860 & 1865
Lincoln in 1860 & 1865

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2015 7:39 am
by Boss
In all of future history, never again will such inhumanity be known. Generations to come will find it so hard to believe that their ancestors, that their fellow human beings, could be so cold hearted, so murderous. This is a picture taken in Auschwitz - a place I will visit one day. It will never be forgotten, never. Neither will any institution set up by authority where innocent lives were harmed in any way - orphanages, asylums, prisons, concentration camps and so on. Vengeance is coming. Oh, how it is marching in.

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2015 1:42 am
by Boss
* flatbushsam answered 6 years ago
The average age of foot soldiers (infantry) since the Roman Army as it is today, has been around 17-19 years old.

* About 6,000 men were killed on daily basis during WWI. This amounted to over 9 million deaths throughout the war.

* WW2
The higher figure of 85 million includes deaths from war-related disease and famine. Civilians killed totaled from 38 to 55 million, including 19 to 25 million from war-related disease and famine. Total military dead: from 22 to 25 million, including deaths in captivity of about 5 million prisoners of war.

* Zbigniew Brzezinski, Out of Control: Global Turmoil on the Eve of the Twenty-first Century (1993)
"Lives deliberately extinguished by politically motivated carnage":
167,000,000 to 175,000,000
War Dead: 87,500,000
Military war dead:
Civilian war dead:
Not-war Dead: 80,000,000
Communist oppression:
Who is in charge, who is, "politically motivating?" 175,000,000 killed - how many signed their death warrants? Was it a 12 year old bugle boy on the Western Front, Anne Frank, an 82 year old grandmother in Nagasaki, an Aussie digger in Vietnam? Who invited them in to war, who supported a military industry, who relied on grandiose distorted self and world views, who declared war, who built our current system? A few hundred, perhaps a thousand men have steered our ship - and so much innocence has been killed. Forever killed. Because of a handful of men playing ego games as another one is killed in Iraq, eleven in France. It is our leaders' fault - who else?

And all because their Mommas ignored them, their Papas beat them.

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2015 4:04 am
by Boss
Making Amends

I was once cool
got straight A's
captained the footy team
got all the chicks.
But I made fun
of my brothers
of schoolmates -
I used women
didn't see their souls
didn't know mine
didn't know much.
I spend 20 years
in the darkness
a classic dropout -
but I learn.
If I hurt you
I want to tell you
I am sorry.

And to you Jackie
I apologise most -
for my absence then
for my insistence now,

and for our Beth.


Let's just watch all the filth rise to the surface, all the 'little' indiscretions. And it will come out - as sure as the stars do. The pollution will be sorted - piece by piece. If you're alive and you sinned against someone, you will pay. No one will be spared, no one. Every single sin. If you never did it before, I really think now is a good time to start - repent! And you may as well do it ad infinitum; until it is time.

Have a nice day,

{8 posts left}

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Mon Jan 12, 2015 12:38 pm
by Boss
No one knows
and it's getting
a little painful.
I thought at least
one person in Alice
might. But no,
nobody. Am I wrong,
do you think I am?
I call into Heaven,
nothing answers.
I wonder if it's
because I'm a Jew.
Maybe just naive.

- In the desert, Alice Springs, the 27th of October, 2007


Here I am in Perth
Content but lonely
I don't know what for
Maybe Buddy
Maybe Jackie
And I die a little
each day
We all do
to the tyranny of time
which ticks eternally

Mortality we can
bet on
Why? there is
no answer
nothing feasible
It is the joke
life plays on us all
No one will overcome it;
was, nor will
It is the sentence
we pay to enjoy
that flower or
that little dog

And I go on
wondering if we'll
ever see God

- On the Coast, Perth, the 23rd of November, 2007

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Mon Jan 12, 2015 1:12 pm
by mat james
With regard to your thinking; this is an interesting Indo-perspective/tangent, Boss. ... rsion.html


Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Tue Jan 13, 2015 12:59 am
by Boss
Matty, thanks for the link. I tried to retrieve it, all to no avail. I will try again in the future. Peace mate.


Casey wrote:
Boss, all you've got to know is this: right now the government of the United States is sitting on top of the Washington Monument, right on the very point, tilting right and left and ready to fall off and break up on the pavement. There are just a handful of men that can prevent it. And you're one of them.

We are here to help in any way we can.
Dear Casey,

Although my maternal grandfather lived most of his life in The United States - he is buried in Michigan - and although I respect your nation fiercely, I am not an American citizen. I am quite categorically Australian. Our Parliament House deserves to get its first Aboriginal prime minister and I have taken it upon myself to help facilitate a smooth transition. Thus, I am currently occupied; I am busy, mate. Oh, and after that I am inviting myself to convene a meeting between protagonists of The Czech Republic and Slovakia to discuss the possible reunification, the resurrection of a new Czechoslovakia - the place Mum told me she was born. And finally I will be involved in aiding the birth of an independent Alaska, fully seceded from Russia, Canada and your nation. And there is a whisper Hawaii is in the mix, too. The US government will have to wait awhile - I'm just too busy.

But if he is fair dinkum, I will meet with Uncle Sam. But it will be on my terms. And know this, we will surely discuss the billions of broken lost souls alive today on our planet. And your country will, like it has done before, be the leader amongst nations in rescuing the needy and shutting down the corrupt, the untrue and the murderous. Your country will instigate a Revolution that will sweep the world over. You will bring peace to every single soul, and you will bring prosperity and sanity to all - including the flora and fauna. And love will become Earth's reality and it will resound through every conceivable medium, through every conceivable heart. And every week on The Sabbath we will kneel in silent prayer and we will thank Him for this love. Casey, I tell you, your nation is truly blessed. And know this, all these things are coming to pass even as we speak.


Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Tue Jan 13, 2015 1:37 am
by mat james
Hi Adam,
This is the guts of the article.
It questions our ground rules.
I like to question our axioms and "truths".
It is often our axiomatic perspectives that drive us nuts.

Anyway, this is one (Indian) man's view of our problematic perspectives with regard to the "god" issue.
He is suggesting (to this reader) that we might benefit by reviewing our ground rules.
I find his idea very refreshing.

"For the Christian, Jesus is the saviour. For the Muslim, Muhammad is the last prophet. For the Buddhist, life is suffering. For the older Thervada Buddhist school, there was only one Buddha. In the latter Mahayana Buddhist school, there were many Buddhas. For the Hindu, there is rebirth. For the Shaivite, Shiva can break the cycle of rebirth. For the Vaishnavite, Vishnu is the cycle breaker. For the Jain, the world has no beginning or ending. For the secularist, religion is bad. For the capitalist, money is good. For the communist, the haves oppress the have-nots. For patriarchy, heterosexual men are superior. For the atheist, god is fiction. For the scientist, that which is measurable is real.

Notice how “myth” stretches from religious world to the non-religious world. For everyone tells stories, incredible stories, that some want to believe and some don’t. Storytelling is human. Story believing is human. Myth making is the indicator of humanity.

This poses a problem: how to distinguish the truth from falsehood? Reportage from propaganda. Ideology from reality. Ontology (knowledge independent of the mind) from epitemiology (knowledge created by the mind).

To understand this, we have to study the mythology of Abrahamic religions.

Why Abrahamic religions? Two reasons. First, Abrahamic religions have a profound political power, shaping Western/modern/global discourse, in more ways than we can imagine. Second, from Abrahamic religion we have our conventional understanding of “there can be only one truth!”

Abrahamic religions speak of “false gods” and “one true God”. This idea is rather unique to Abrahamic mythology. There is the jealous god who does not like false gods, the god who refuses to be contained within a form and is formless, though is represented in language and art using the masculine form. Those who aligned to this mythology rejected all other gods. To prove their faith, they actively toppled other gods.

...God who is “limitless” is very different from god who rejects the “false”. The one is accommodating of human limitations. The other cannot tolerate human weakness. The one has no sense of urgency for it sees fear of death as delusion. The other wants to save the world before falsehood claims the world. The one is at peace. The other is always at war. Guess which god dominates the modern world."

( ... rsion.html)


Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Tue Jan 13, 2015 2:08 am
by Boss
TO JACKIE (27/3/88)

When all else is falling around me
there you are
Rebuilding the fallen bricks
Cementing my broken heart
Bringing laughter and love
to me when I need it most
Fate has been kind Jackie dear
You'll always be in my heart from this troubled time
You're the bright ray of sunshine
that permeates the black cloud

What can I say ?
and I love you


For you, Bub (12-13/1/15)

I kissed you so much
On that old disco floor
Held you so close
I wanted you more

We went to the beach
Sorrento at night
We were lovers by then
We ain't had a fight

You moved in with me
I think it was April
My brothers and Mum
It all seemed so tranquil

Then up to the bush
You, me and a mate
We danced a bit more
Not doin' no hate

You worked in the city
The drive it was bad
My new teaching college
Puffing Billy so rad

But I got a bit high
The stress then you see
I got all religious
Saw things on tv

And you did see nothin'
That's what you said
I heard it myself
The colours that bled

Off to the clinic
You nursed me so fine
Before long we knew it
A Townsville-ish rhyme

I loved you right there
In the pool, on the bed
Laughed with your brother
What a soul he was then

Back into Melbourne
Two days of the bus
But you didn't mind
You saw it no fuss

You strong as a lion
Courage unfurled
A wonderful tomboy
A sweet little girl

Someone who cried
At the truest of things
Didn't want plastic
But wanted the rings

I am sorry my love
For not being there
It was the message
I was gone, didn't care

We lived at my Dad's
Midst Warrandyte trees
And then our own pad
Our own set of keys

We ate fish n chips
Got a fridge and a vac
I would write poems
And you had the cat

We stayed for two years
Both working it hard
Shared my Corolla
Me still on my guard

About at this time
I started to stray
Temptation of women
Too weak and afraid

I let you so down
Six times did I lie
I only say sorry
I will till I die

My ego was soft
I was used to the chase
Been broke ever since
So out of that race

About ninety one
We moved into Eltham
You hard at work
To bring home the bacon

I drove the bread vans
In the middle of night
You dreamed of marriage
Me of the Light

Then you got Bust
A remarkable dog
Our family growing
Me not in the cog

You bought a Laser
I flunked out a course
I was going to Israel
As good as divorce

Your kid brother died
I carried his coffin
But still then I'd go
My calling was knockin'

I went for five months
You wrote my release
I came back in May
All hell to break loose

You'd been all around
I smashed up the house
The clinic once more
Led me off like a mouse

And today I am free
Imprisoned so tight
I've needed you baby
Just a bit of your bite

Your laugh and your head
Your body at dawn
The way you made sense
Your jeans old and torn

So gutsy you are
So all indefinable
I remember you Bub
My love undeniable

When they look up to you
All the girls and the women
Promise me darling
A bit of your stinging

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Wed Jan 14, 2015 2:43 am
by Boss

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Wed Jan 14, 2015 4:02 am
by mat james
Well written, for this scribbler, me.

I see the Eureka Stockade in this bloke of yours, Boss.
Sometimes the new traditions surpass and refresh the old.


Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Wed Jan 14, 2015 4:08 am
by Boss
Thanks Mat James, thanks

End This Day
Late '90's

End this day
of rage and repent
give me a new tomorrow
remove my mind's shackles
and clear my soul
so dirty and weak
dispensable disposable
let me be Cain and Abel
for I have already killed
and carry my child's imagination
around my neck

End this day
of plastic broadcaster
splintered news
and commercial
I need something real
in this endless parade
of Western priorities
tainted leaders
and missiles
of killing for a patch of land
a flag
they should all fly at half mast

End this day
of stale religion
stagnant psychology
and computer games
of golden calves
green bank notes
and dow jones
of luxury cars
luxury hotels
and luxury mentalities

End this day
of broken family
shattered child
incoherent priest
with nothing to say
intellectuals hold office
shaping their analyses
from broken data

End this day
the man in the street
must swallow the facts
and we all go to sleep at night
under the guise
of analytical crap
twisted men in power
and lies

End this day

Re: Melbourne Story

Posted: Thu Jan 15, 2015 12:12 am
by Boss
Eulogy – November, 1999

You once told me in a poem to look up the difference between a sonata and a concerto. I must confess I still haven’t. But I do use my dictionary to find meaning out of many words. The dictionary is an Oxford but not the shorter version as you advised. It is the one you bought for my 30th birthday – when you were in hospital and you were told you had cancer. Inscribed in it – “To Adam Love always Dad 1998”

One of the words I looked up was ‘father’. The first meaning was given thus : “a man in relation to a child or children born from his fertilisation of an ovum”. That seemed a little hollow. I read on. The same sterile stuff. I wondered of a guiding figure, of a man who tried to care for his children, of a wounded soul who’d lost two children, of a laughing man with a can of beer, of terrific cartoons that enthralled his young sons, of teaching us how to drive manual cars, of trips to Luna Park, of strange sounding poems I only now understand, of whispering the Shema every night when we were kids, of bursting into tears one winter in 1988, of your hippie clothes clothing your hippie convictions, of sailors’ caps, of standing in the rain watching a son play football, of endless talks about God, the Greeks and philosophy, of your cup of tea with one sugar, of your old typewriter, of your Children’s Hospital work, of vision through Life’s hypocrisy and plastic words, of picking your kids up each Thursday night, of Cohen, Kafka, Spinoza and Kant, of saying a prayer at Michael’s funeral, of being there in 1993, of trips to Dromana, Philip Island, Sydney and Torquay, of red wine, roses and the moon, of your forlorn eyes the day you left, of our disagreements but that was OK, of those classical people Mozart, Elgar, Bach and Beethoven, of Dylan – Thomas and Bob, of your MG with the roof off in summer, of your love of sports, of your old blue and white leisure shoes, of performance poetry, of performance anything, of telling your children that Esther had passed away, of seeing with clarity the futility of wealth and war, of lending me your mower and not even worrying when I broke it for good, of open discussions, of smacking me only once because I didn’t want to go to Sunday school, of Mum and Di and of love.

Of love. Shall I search out the Oxford? You said, “Love is bigger than death” as you went down fighting. Whatever it is Dad; yours remains living and growing in me always. I close the dictionary.