SORRY FOR BORING YOU

Due to my short attention span, and intolerance for weasels; I have two questions?
1) Did he apologise for the genocide, because as I understand - removing members of the group is genocide under the UN convention on the prevention of Genocide?
2) What did the stolen Generation get in real terms (Apart from one week off their dole obligations to find their families; with no support from the Gov, I might add.)
3) Whats with the red Tie?

2=3

Howdy Neighbour

Hey ZIONIST!,
next time use the door bell,

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

HAARP, not Lilith's

Whose enemies have had natural disasters lately?

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.