Showing posts with label fast cars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fast cars. Show all posts
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
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.
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.
Here is the real version.. Notice the difference.
Respect to uncle Kev Karmody and Paul Kelly.
Monday, April 7, 2008
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!’
‘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!’
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Dirty Pigs, Dirty Laws, Dirty Job // Some Cyborgs Got to do it.
The Australian people do not have ultimate control over the 'Australian' Constitution. In mid-July 1995 the Lord Chancellor of the UK in answer to a Parliamentary question asked in the UK Parliament about the Australian Constitution, stated:Ha HA..."The British Constitution Act 1900 was for self government. It was never intended to be and is not suitable to be the basis for independence. The right to repeal this Act remains the sole prerogative of the United Kingdom. There is no means by which under United Kingdom or international law this power can be transferred to a foreign country or Member State of the United Nations. Indeed, the United Nations Charter precludes any such action”.
(This response was confirmed by letter from the UK Foreign and Commonwealth Office, dated 11th Dec 1997, under the hand of Mark Armstrong, Far Eastern and Pacific Dept)
Labels:
Bogans,
Cops and Clowns,
Fashion,
fast cars,
Justice,
lies,
machines,
MInd Control,
Stoned killers,
war,
White power
Monday, November 12, 2007
MMM...part 2
Immortal technique, props 2 ya.
Labels:
911,
anti racism,
APEC,
bush,
Cops and Clowns,
enslavement,
fast cars,
Genocide,
MInd Control,
music,
TV,
war,
White power
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Star Spangled Banner // Machines conduct target practice
America is a death trap.
Labels:
911,
fast cars,
Genocide,
machines,
MInd Control,
war,
White power
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