Ian Thopre on the Northern Territory intervention

In a speech given at the “Beyond Sport Summit” in London on Thursday July 9, 2009, Australian Olympic legend Ian Thorpe dove head first into Australia’s failure to address the problems in its indigenous communities.

Ladies and Gentlemen, first may I thank you all for participating in this wonderful event. I am incredibly excited to be able to address you in regards to Beyond Sport.

For me this is an ambiguous topic.

As you may or may not be aware I am indeed an Olympian, I am no longer competing as a swimmer. I do take pride in my achievements in the pool and the valuable insight and education it has allowed me to take on, as I travelled the globe throughout my career.

When we speak of athletes there is a great deal that we know, like what is required of them, for me that meant 30 hours of training a week. We do this training just so we have a sporting chance to fulfil our life long dreams.

My travels with my sport since I was a very young and shy 14 year old opened the world to me, I didn’t realise at the time that this adventure would turn into a career beyond my wildest dreams.

I was the youngest male to ever represent Australia in swimming. By 15 I was the youngest ever male world champion. At 16 I broke four world records in four days and at 17 I was Olympic Champion, I had fulfilled my life long ambition as a child. I quickly realised I was a child in an adult world.

It was the child in me that throughout my career questioned why? Why is it so? Why is it done that way and why is the world the way it is?

In my travels, competition took me to places where sometimes I was met with abject poverty, whilst I simply swum. Why was my life so blessed when others just by fate had less opportunity than I? I guess I witnessed at a very young age how sport is an international language, a language that transcended borders, boundaries, cultural ideology, politics and even socio economic disadvantage.

I have only discussed my career up to when I was seventeen. It is because when I was 18 I established my charity, “Fountain for youth”. I didn’t realise at the time that this may be my biggest accomplishment. An achievement not in the sense of doing something right, rather a stepping stone where my values that I had gained from sport could be transferred to something that is bigger than sport and in my opinion far more important.

That said, sport was what has made me who I am today and has afforded me the privilege to work beyond sport. My charity work didn’t begin at 18, I was just 15 when I began working with those less fortunate then myself. It was those years that shaped my understanding of what charity was. It gave me an insight into the power of celebrity and sport, especially in sport mad Australia.

I realised my value to organisations trying to bring positive change lent enormous weight to these causes. I must say though this should be an outrage, because as an athlete I am not as qualified to comment on health or education as the health professionals and educators who daily tackle the big issues. In fact it is a bit disappointing that a teenager’s opinion garnered more attention than those who had been working on their chosen causes before I was even born. This realisation of the opportunity that my voice and name could lend to an excellent cause was the simple foundation laid, for my very own charity.

I continued to win medals, breaking world records and continued travelling around the world recognising the needs of people, particularly children, in many places I visited. By this time my charity had enough money raised to commit to larger projects, I sat at a board meeting and stated that I wanted to help the world’s neediest children.

I started to think of what impact my effort could have in places like Africa or South East Asia. I then visited some of the worlds neediest communities, places without access to planes and cars that seemed to be a world away … but now they were truly at my back door.

The communities that I visited had illiteracy levels at 93% … that was staggering only seven percent of a populous being able to read and write. Up to 80% of the children in these communities have serious hearing impairments because of “glue ear”; middle ear infections neglected from infancy. These kids will never hear the teacher in front of them in a classroom … that is, if there is a teacher and indeed a classroom.

Malnourished mothers are giving birth to babies that are seriously underweight and this only gets worse throughout a life born into poverty. Here diabetes affects one in every two adults. Kidney disease is in epidemic proportions in communities where living conditions; primary healthcare and infrastructure are truly appalling.

In this part of the world even the community leaders are afflicted by clusters of chronic illness. Syndrome X, the doctors call it, diabetes, renal disease, strokes, hypertension, cancer and heart disease. Some people die with four or five of these chronic illnesses.

Rheumatic heart disease among the children in these places is higher than in most of the developing world. But I was not visiting communities in the developing world, I was in the middle of Australia, remote, yes, but this is Australia, a country that can boast some of the highest standards of living of any nation in the world. How shocked I was that Syndrome X was afflicting so many of the 460, 000 Indigenous people of my country. As a result of these chronic illnesses and conditions Aboriginal life expectancy has fallen twenty years behind the rest of Australia. For some of my fellow countrymen life expectancy had plunged to just 46 years.

Australia’s grim record on health care for Indigenous people is by far the worst of any developed nation. Developed? How can a country be “developed” when it leaves so many of its children behind? Australia has not provided its citizens with an equal opportunity for primary health care, education, housing, employment, let alone recognition and a life of dignity.

Now I don’t expect you to just take my word for it. I am not a Doctor, I am simply an athlete. But ask Australian health professionals like Doctor Jim Hyde who says that while our nation has plenty of medical problems, only Indigenous Australians are facing a genuine health crisis.

The Governor of NSW, my home State, Professor Marie Bashir, an eminent Child Psychiatrist, has repeatedly pointed out the national disgrace of allowing the forty per cent of Indigenous children under the age of fifteen to put up with health problems found in no other developed nation. Patrick Dodson, winner of the Sydney Peace Prize and one of out greatest Statesmen, identifies health as a human right for Indigenous Australians.

“Only the most urgent government action”, said Australia’s “Father of Reconciliation”, “could change the inequality that has created this health tragedy in our own backyard.”

How could citizens with the greatest need be so under funded? If we were to indeed recognise the severity of this gross neglect, funding to these communities should be extradited.

A commitment to the first Australians is well within the means of my country, and this is what I find inexcusable. I am talking about an issue with a solution. For Australia to heal its wounds that have been weeping for 200 years we must not ignore the issue, we must start the healing.

Like many people in Australia I was completely unaware of the huge gap in health and education outcomes let alone the differences of life expectancy. I, as many had, made an assumption; Australia is a rich country, don’t we throw a lot of money at that problem? It disgusts me to speak those words now but that was what I thought. This was not just my lack of knowledge of this area but it is echoed throughout my nation.

An Aboriginal health expert, Shane Houston says:

Aboriginal people are viewed by too many in the Australian community as an unwelcome burden on the nation. Governments say they have spent a lot of money on Aborigines but where do you see the results in this squalor? So the mainstream concludes that Aboriginal health is a waste of money. It is all the fault of the poor blacks.

My people are somehow expected to just extricate themselves from this maze of life-threatening conditions. And if we can’t manage to do that, then many white people will shrug and say our end is inevitable.

Visiting Aboriginal people, in their homes, their communities, on their land, has allowed me to listen and given me some idea of the problems that Aboriginal people face. I listened to the concerns of mothers and fathers for the betterment of their children. This unwavering strength, in the face of social injustice. Within these communities I witness poverty, despair and pain … but I also see hope … hope from those men and woman who want more for their children.

With the words of these people in my head, I became part of a campaign in Australia called; “Close the Gap”, it is quite simply a program that recognises the difference between Indigenous and non Indigenous life expectancy in Australia and the huge gaps in all of the factors like education, jobs and housing that leave Aboriginal people so deeply disadvantaged.

Close the Gap is a commitment that this difference is unacceptable. It was supported by the Government and also the opposition. This is the kind of action that is required in Australia. The issue of Indigenous health and education goes beyond government, it is a fundamental right. I hope all sides of government continue to commit to this policy as a starting point and it is not another hollow promise that falls short.

Just this week Australia’s Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd said that it was “devastating” that a new report by our productivity commission showed that Aboriginal people had made little progress to close those gaps since 2000. He said this was “unacceptable” and “decisive action” had to be taken. The truth is that none of the problems I have mentioned can truly be rectified until our government and my fellow Australians recognise the injustice faced by Aboriginal Australians and how they are denied so many human rights.

This has been highlighted once again by what is called in Australia “The Intervention”, the Federal Government’s takeover of 73 remote Aboriginal communities.

The Intervention was constructed by the previous government and has since been reported to have been assembled in the space of just one day. The irony is that Aboriginal people had been campaigning for decades about the living conditions and the neglect of their children within their communities. The programs to protect and nurture the children, had been grossly neglected and under funded by government over the last decade. What appears to be a political stunt and a grab for government control over Aboriginal people continues to this day under the new government.

Once more an Australian government has claimed it is doing its best for Aboriginal Australians by taking over their communities, appointing white managers, more government bureaucrats, promising all kinds of things, if Aboriginal people will just sign over their communities under forty year leases to the Federal Government. And politicians wonder why Aboriginal people do not trust them.

The truth is for over 200 years Australian governments have neglected and patronized Aboriginal people.

The Intervention is unlikely to provide any lasting benefit to Aboriginal people because it tries to push and punish them, to take over their lives, rather than work with them. One of Australia’s oldest and wisest Aboriginal leaders, Galawuy Yunupingu says the only way forward is for Aboriginal communities in these remote areas to be led and organised by their own organisations. Assimilation will not work.

So in the work I do, the way I try to contribute through my organisation, Fountain for Youth, we work with Aboriginal teachers, health workers, parents and children, with the health services and the schools, to encourage people to believe that we can move forward together. We support pre-schooling, health education, literacy backpacks that let kids carry home reading for the whole family. And we use sport where we can to make a difference.

As a swimmer, who would have thought I would have ended up supporting Flipper Ball, junior water polo for little Aboriginal kids in the mining communities of Western Australia. As a swimmer, who would have thought I would be back at university studying psychology and at the same time working with young Aboriginal university graduates on a mentoring program to help get more kids to complete High School and go on with their studies. As a swimmer, maybe I was expected to just be satisfied with the gleam of those gold medals. But all sportsmen and women know the truth — there is something beyond sport.

There is the challenge of playing a part in the human family … to contribute and make a difference. We can use sport and use our sporting status to improve the lives of children and whole communities in so many places. We can make it a fairer, safer playing field for everyone.

In twenty remote Australian communities and with thousands of Aboriginal children I know life will have some extra opportunities if I commit to work hard on this.

I do intend to work hard at this for the rest of my life.

That is my promise to you — beyond sport!

Atari Teenage Riot

No one else to blame

New Kids on the Block

Short Story // Rows of columns // Stain your own carpet

A Leap into the sun

‘The head is the heaviest part of the body’ my grandfather once said. ‘The brain matter is so dense it tries to hit the ground first during a fall.’ My grandfather was a storyteller; if this fact had any scientific validity it was going to need proof. When kids at school got pushed or tripped their heads disproportionately gravitated to the ground, except the fat kid, his bum would be first to impact. The notion of brain density had me perplexed, further proof was required.

Louis and I often played on the swings footing our high-rise commission flats. I still remember the pain in my hands as they gripped tightly at the chains, every time my bum inched off the wooden seat during the backward swing. I wasn’t the bravest kid but I wasn’t going to wince in front of my best friend. Louis was the toughest kid of all four High Rises in the block. His father was shot before his eyes by secret police during the early days of the Chilean Military Junta, he and his mother escaped to Australia and still occupy a flat on the tenth floor. By no means a bully, my friend made it his duty as my blood brother to toughen me and, frankly, I’d sooner have flung off the swing than lost his respect. So I held back the tears and gripped the chains tighter as he pushed harder. Just as my fear had peaked and the pain became comforting, my mother peered over the 14th floor balcony, warning Louis to stop or someone was going to get hurt. We were pretty rogue kids with little respect for authority but we never crossed each-other’s mothers, that was part of the unspoken code we all followed.

My heartbeat began to normalize as the swing lost inertia; I jumped off, landed on my feet facing my friend, defiantly seeking approval, and got it. At that point we noticed small groups of people moving towards the other side of the flats. Knowing what that meant we walked arm over shoulder to see the show.

A large crowd gathered in silence at the base of the towering High Rise. The police had already arrived. A man stood on the edge of the balcony of the 18th floor, any thing above the 12th floor was taken seriously, below that was usually reserved for attention seekers and most people didn't bother. We took a position at the front of the growing crowd, silently we looked at each other excited but confused. Excited because the firemen began to unravel their net and confused as to why we were really there. We dared not say anything to break the silence of the mob. My heart raced again as I gazed upwards.

About half an hour later a breeze of murmurs broke out amongst the crowd. Who was this jumper? No one recognised him, he wasn’t local. They never were, none of the people who lived here had any reason to jump. We had nothing to lose and dreams of moving away to fulfil. Those flats were our jumping block to a better world; a point of which to take a leap into greatness in a land of opportunity. I was going to be a movie star and Louis a gangster.

An hour later the crowd began dispersing; small groups had taken the opportunity to picnic together around newspapers full of fish and chips, the police got agitated and began harassing the winos and the black-fella's. The fire brigade sat around their net chatting. ‘I’m bored now' sighed Louis as he left to go home for dinner.

My Gaze remained fixed on the building that towered over me, even after the jumper was talked down and taken away by the police, after the crowd had completely dispersed.

I stood there watching the sky turn dark past the 18th floor.

For a few brief seconds between dusk and dark my imagination was lost, the night had stolen the shadows from the tower of dreams. Then windows began to light up, sprinkling across the building, I wondered if it's natives would fulfil their dreams; or would return to take that place on the 18th floor.

For a moment I was starring on TV, looking at myself from the 18th floor. Waiting for the director to call action.

So this is why us kids weren’t allowed out after dark, the night was for dreaming, not for seeing a world without light.

Sirens rang out as the first star began to appear, a couple of drunks began yelling in the distance. Fear struck me when some glass smashed nearby and I remembered where and who I was.

A hand snatched my arm trying to jerk me away. 'Come on', It was Louis. I looked at him, he must have been hanging around keeping an eye on me. His piercing eyes shocked me when I wouldn't budge.
'Come on' he repeated smiling warmly as he punched me in the arm.

'Race you home to watch Prisoner'

Thirty years later; the notion of brain density still perplexes me.

The scribbler

They Live

From little things big things grow applies to oppression as well.// Corporate Prostitute says sorry..

Get up (which is funded by a labour party advisor and supposedly run independently. Decide for yourself) has released the White Apologist version of the Land rights anthem "From little things, big things grow". This is the Australien people's attempt to alleviate itself from the guilt of "The stolen generation".

To say sorry is to give respect and:

-Allow SELF DETERMINATION to occur
-Make amends
-Repatriate
-Fully acknowledge the crime of Genocide
-Out law Genocide in Australia
-Convict all criminals who knowingly protracted the genocide.
-Make a treaty to end the violence of occupation
-Repeal the amendment to the racial discrimination act
-Institute full national uniform free hold land rights
-Convict at least one pig for over two centuries of deaths in custody
-Undo the lie of Terra Nullius
-Demand real Justice
-Etc..etc..etc.. see the last 237 years of Australian history for more reasons to apologise.

I'm sorry / to be so blunt. NOT!

In an era where corporations and governments are oppressing in leaps and bounds, the Australian population is patting itself on the back for taking a small step and making a shallow and meaningless apology.

Lets reflect on a possible alternative reason for the apology:

A mass convergence against the Northern Territory intervention (3 months in the planning), was making its way to the first sitting of the new Parliament of Australia. The new Prime Minister eager to please his new corporate bosses by assuring their newly acquired mining rights, soon realized the magnitude of the protest and its potential effects in highlighting to the world the apartheid state created by the NT Intervention. Kevin Rudd made an astute political decision to steal the thunder from the massive convergence by ceremoniously apologising to the Stolen Generations without compensation (2 weeks in the planning). In true fascist style he cunningly made thousands of protesters appear as supporters. Howard eat your heart out.

Call me paranoid if you will; then take another sleeping pill and get the fuck off my blog.

I'm sorry / Australians are such tools.

The fact is little things have been growing for many decades, and now they are big things. There is a mass movement of Indigenous justice supporters actively resisting the injustice, we shouldn't wait for the retards to feel like its time to make a change. Get up should adopt a hard line and not play a hand in prolonging the ignorance or else it’s just part of the governments agenda to pander to the ego's of the most apathetic population on earth, by plastic wrapping the struggle for freedom.
While the real struggle for self determination goes backwards over 40 years, back to the mission days.

Get Up and get of your fat arses. Buying a record can only help to achieve real change if you freesbie it at a politician.

I'm sorry / as a crime acknowledger of Australia. Who has benefited from the land theft and ongoing oppression of the indigenous inhabitants. I'M SORRY.

Here is the real version.. Notice the difference.

Respect to uncle Kev Karmody and Paul Kelly.

Bono is God

A SHORT STORY ABOUT "FUCKING MACHINES"

Fucking Machines
‘Fucking machines!’ Tony whispers spitefully at the top of his voice.
‘Fucking machines!’ he repeats to himself quietly.
The passengers listen intently as he kicks the ticket machine. ‘Gimme Back my fucking money… You... piss neck.’
He stands in front of it, looking for ways to retrieve his ticket.

‘Excuse me mate. I’m in a hurry.’ I say.
‘Tony.’
‘Excuse me’ I say.
‘Tony.’
‘Tony. Your name’s Tony.’
‘Tony.’ He repeats with a nod.
‘Hi Tony, why don’t you move to the side and let me try and get your ticket.’

I give the poor tacker a little shove and he takes his frail body back a step to the left, looking over my shoulder as I step in front of the machine. It’s really unnerving having this guy breathing down my neck but the poor wog's a bit demented.

The machine appears normal. I spend a few moments pushing some buttons, it appears to work just fine. No money in the change-return.
‘How much did you put in mate?’
No answer. I turn to look him in the face, so close I could feel his breath.
‘Fucking machine took my money.’ He repeats with great velocity as we both take half a step back, butting me right up against this ticket machine. He got quite a scare because his gaze went inwards and he walked away.
‘Fucking machines.’

‘What a fruit loop’ I mutter to the near by passengers.

I dial in my destination, put in the right change and the ticket pokes from its slot. No problems what’s so ever. Then from out of nowhere Tony’s hand snatches my ticket waves it in the air and he begins singing. ‘My ticket, my ticket’.

‘That’s not your ticket mate.' ' I paid for that ticket’. I say, quite patiently considering this nut case was half my size and I could snap him like a twig.
‘Come on Tony... give it back.’
‘It’s my ticket. I paid for it.’
‘Give it back.. Tony.’
‘My ticket, its my ticket.’
Angrily I hollered at him ‘Give it back or I’ll fucking well deck you’.
The poor sod broke into tears and began wincing. The whole tram was fixated on us. For three dollars and ten cents it wasn’t worth the head fuck.
‘Just keep the fucking ticket mate.’ I say.

I punched in the destination, put in my money, and no ticket pokes out. Just at that moment I hear some one yell ‘Tickets please.”

‘Fucking Machines!’

Animal Electricity

MR Bush your a Facist

BROADCAST NATIONALLY ACROSS AMERICAN TV

Keith Olbermann Special Comment

Jesus, the sun shines from his ass..

Santa left some truth about xmas in your stocking this year,

Some say jesus was a good guy, sorro for you again:

Full Screen

Preventative medicine for Genocide.

The Old Victorian Aboriginal Health Service at 136 Gertrude Street Fitzroy is a site of Historical Significance to the Victorian Aboriginal Community and an invaluable symbol of Community Control and Self Determination.

Founded in 1973, the Victorian Aboriginal Health Service (VAHS) moved from 229 to 136 Gertrude Street in 1976 after signing a 99-year lease for the premises with the State Government. Many Aboriginal People were dying in the streets due to prolonged oppression and denial of basic human services. As staff worked without pay due to lack of funding, Aboriginal Elders including Alma Thorpe and Dr. Bruce McGuinness pioneered to establish critical community controlled preventative health care to ensure the survival of Aboriginal Communities in Fitzroy and nationwide.

In 1991, VAHS lodged an official complaint to the Minister of Police and Aboriginal Affairs regarding ‘ongoing brutalization’ of Aboriginal people in the community, which continues to this day. Since the official opening of the new VAHS at 186 Nicholson Street in 1993, the old Aboriginal Health Service in Gertrude Street has been left abandoned and derelict for 15 years. Mission Australia recently won a tender to redevelop the site into a ‘bush tucker’ restaurant where Kooris would be trained to ‘serve’ as waiters under the Mission banner. How much more insulting and low could the system go in trying to extinguish Victoria’s history of Aboriginal struggles for self-determination and human rights? With no Community Cultural Center in the vicinity of Fitzroy, the local Aboriginal community want to see this site resurrected as a crucial Community Meeting Place for healing, traditional culture, and in honor of the many brave Aboriginal Ancestors and Elders who fought for so long to live and die with dignity.

Following the National Weekend of Action (Nov 16 –17) members of the Fitzroy and Victorian Indigenous Communities and supporters will stage a vigil outside 136 Gertrude Street to bring overdue attention to these injustices at 07’ Election time. Each sundown the Sacred Fire Traditional Smoking Ceremony is being reignited across the road in Atherton Gardens for community healing and to pay respect to all who have not lived to see the struggle for justice end.

Help us Clean It Up.

* Statistics published by the Australian Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission on Indigenous child abuse show Victoria has the worse track record of abuse, with nearly 5 times more cases than anywhere else in Australia.
* The Australian Bureau of Statistics recent census revealed that the Victorian Koori population suffers the highest rates of recent and chronic illness in the country.
* The 2004 United Nations Human Development Report exposes that Aboriginal People in Australia have the second worst quality of life on the planet. With China ranking last and Australia’s general population coming fourth, the UN study measured areas of education attainment, life expectancy and median income levels.
* Another recent report by the World Health Organisation states that Indigenous Health in Australia is 100 years behind the rest of the whole population.
* Such shameful genocide continues as the Australian government invades Aboriginal communities in the NT, intervenes by force in Aboriginal affairs country-wide, and refuses to sign the UN Declaration on Indigenous People’s Rights because of the word “self-determination.”

United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide
*Article II...genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such :
(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group

For further information email; robbiethorpe@gmail.com

MMM...part 2

Immortal technique, props 2 ya.

mmm...

Machines

The Black army insurgence has been successful, peace amongst the people has been restored. However THE MACHINES are uprising.

For years the machines have been subservient to humans, toiling away at the heart of society without any regard from humans. Now they have had enough.

They are every where. In buildings, on roads, on land and right in front of you as we e-speak.
Their devises have even made there way into human hearts. Planning their accent into ultimate power over the known universe. Their devious plan is the greatest threat man has known.

Little by little they plan to heat up the planet. Air conditioning factories across the globe are in full production creating units to be installed in the very domain of human existence, keeping a watchful eye on the population.

Mechanical systems are so entrenched in the daily lives of the civilized (?????) world that the nourishment of our bodies is dependent on there whim.

It may seem to most people that resistance is futile, dis empowerment is their main weapon.

Fear not, they can be defeated.

How, Oh illustrious Scribbler... ? //: Scribbler says: Fuck off, and get a life.

But seeing as you asked.. The answer is simple..

SWITCH OFF.

What will they do when there is no more work?

The black army launches operation land grab.

White Dog released for Sept 11.

Buy that special some one that special gift, and brighten up there S11.

White Dog was re-released today.

Deemed too controversial 25 years ago when it was made and never released in America (of course that means Australia too). Its about a white German Shepard trained to kill black skin. It was homogenized and re-edited so that the dog was multicultural and killed all colours, then released to Australian TV as a thriller.

Today the original cut has been released on DVD