The Crossroad Inn

I decided to split this into two blogs. because well it just should be. They are separate but together as such.

The explanation of this poem is in part 2 of Suicide Moth

Suicide moth
with the brains of a doth
you are banging away at the screen
It is night time outside
and it's a full lunar tide
Whether you'll live remains to be seen

the rain's pouring down
on your face like a clown
makes you look like an eerie dark green
I peer at your face
right out there in space
and wonder why nature is harsh and so mean

you're banging away
with wings beating in fray
to the light you seem to be keen
why don't you give up
There is glass is in the cup
the knowledge of which surely you glean

but seemingly not
you don't seem to stop
that banging away at the screen
I bid you goodnight
and close blinds out of sight
of that light from which your life is so lean

you would think you would learn
light also can burn
and charcoal can tarnish the sheen

 

 

08:42 AM - Suicide Moth Part 2
Category: Writing and Poetry

 

It rained today for the first day since we moved to the farm. Tonight I was sitting on my bed looking out the window when a Bogong moth similar to the one  above that I snapped on the front door a minute ago, decided to keep me fascinated by the way he kept trying to get through the glass window into the bedroom to the light.

It was so funny, Kahleah was sitting on the bed with me and I said to her "look at the fairy on the window".

She walked up with a puzzled expression on her face (up to now she hasn't actually "seen" the fairies we play with) and she peered at the window close up. She took a step back, looked at me, looked back at the moth and did a double take, peering closer again.

She then turned to me with a look of consternation on her face and said "its a yucky looking one isn't it mummy".

I laughed and laughed. I then explained it was a big moth. The wing span from tip to tip was about ten centimetres and the body length was about 6 cm long.

She asked me if I could open the window to get a better look as he was hanging on the insect screen. When I opened the window she again peered at it up close, examining it with fascination.

Glen leaned forward and said, look you can scratch it on it's tummy and he gave it's tummy a bit of a rub through the screen. She then reached up and touched it through the screen and gently patted it's tummy with a look of complete awe on her face.

When I closed the window we sat there and watched the moth for ages, just continually beat itself against the window in it's futile effort to get to the light.

One again nature and my little girl inspired me to write this poem. Hope you enjoy.

The Bogong Moth
The moths are huge and apparently edible. You notice I say apparently. I don't see them on my menu in the near or distant future. I live in south East Queensland which is their breeding ground.

Bogongs Migrations

 

Postscript.
As I am posting this Glen spoke up from behind me at the dining table where he was watching me post the blog. We were having a coffee before bed and he said "Here you are the cats got one now"

Sure enough I turned around and the cat had presented one to Glen at his feet. I grabbed the camera as Glen grabbed the cat and it flew into the kitchen. The cat got away from Glen and sat there eyeing the moth. Glen took the cat to the sleepout while I rescued the moth and put him outside.

 

When Glen walked back in he said "All that effort and there's a bird outside that is probably thanking us for dinner about now.

Well at least he didn't end up the cat's dinner.. tonight anyway....

 

 

But what amazes me the most. Is that this is him now in the pic below. Up again trying to get in my kitchen window.

 

Don't mind my minstrels on my windowsill. Its my band that keeps me company as I cook.

 

Icarus

To my Mum and Dad who recently started reading under the user Blogs Dad.
Mum, you won't like this one but Dad may enjoy it lol.. after all I did get this wicked sense of humour from traveling with him so much as a kid.

To my readers.. yeah Im wicked at times....... but meh...it's me.

I wrote this one the other day for Jersey Girl and Munch. Yes Munch you handsome devil, you inspired this little ditty.

So this is in tribute to Jersey Girl's blackberry contest.

Thanks to which most of myspace has a new slang term to add to their vocab.

Thanks to the judges, the contestants and thanks mostly to those friends and readers that voted my entry. It was a fun time to be had by all.

Munches was the best by far and hence why his little ditty inspired this little dirty ditty.



She is hot she is ready
and she is willing to go
then she tells you something
that you didn't want to know

you lean back then to listen
with your fingers deep inside
between that luxury softeness
your hand just gently glides

She stops what she is doing
and looks up into your eye
she starts to speak the dreaded words
that are going to make you cry

your body is working overdrive
dicks as hard and stiff as rock
hurry and finish telling this
all I want to do is have a FOK

She smiles that sweet coy smile now
and wraps her hands around your gun
it twitches up towards her
as the juices start to run

hunny you know I want you
and your tongue between my thighs
I want you doing dirty deeds
but I canna tell a lie

tis the time for me of blackberries
the juicy gift from all the gods
that come raining down from heaven
and make for berry messy clods

So unless you want your face red
or to look like freddies revenge
I wouldn't dine down there tonight
in that slick gooey blackberry menge

you take your hand from within her
dang you had four fingers in
you place your hand upon her back
and let out a little grin

as you rub her shoulders lovingly
and massage up her curvy back
you lay her gently on the bed
your dicks now on the slack

you cup her face into your hands
and gaze deep into her eyes
there will always be another day
but for now I have to fly

it takes a minute to reclothe
and leave her snoring on the bed
she is smiling that secret smile again
as dreams of teasing are in her head

you close the door to the apartment
and get into the tower's lift
you wonder what her husband will think
as he arrives to your fingerprinted gift

01:38 PM - I Made Him Join The Priesthood
Category: Writing and Poetry

 

In my second year of high school I had a maths teacher, who was the endless source of amusement for me. I was a terror back then with a strong sense of social justice which made for some rebellious acts against the "system" even then.

 
To describe Mr. Gaunt to you is a tad difficult. My only description of him gets rather confused because every time I think of Mr. Gaunt, Mr. Bean pops into my head and I crack up laughing. To this day I can not differentiate between the two. I am telling you now, Rowan Atkinson modeled Mr. Bean from My Mr. Gaunt.

 

 

I had always been put in the top class but I hated it. My friends were in the lower graded classes and the other kids in my class were stuck up snobs. So I made it my mission to be put in the lower classes with my friends. Hence not long after the start of my mission I was moved down into Mr. Gaunts lower math class with all the cool people and all my friends.

 
There was only one problem with that.

Mr. Gaunt was stuck teaching the lower classes because he was well, Mr. Beanlike dumb.

 

 

He wore long socks, long shorts with a short sleeved shirt and tie and I really think his face was more Mr. Beanlike than Mr. Bean. He was a confirmed bachelor who lived in a tiny flat and the thought of him with a woman was the source of many laughter outburst by my friends and myself in class. Mind you he didn't rate as high on the idiot scale as  Mr. Freame, the Latin master but Mr. Freame and my detention stories are still to come.

 

Mr. Gaunt had no control over the class. He would turn to us and ask us if we thought we should have a math's test the next week. Well hey, back then everything had been sorted into lots of life already. He was asking every potential deviant over the years to come in our home if we WANTED a math test? Somehow we managed to persuade him every week that we were not quite ready.

 

Mr. Gaunt had many peculiarities other than having his shorts hitched up to his ribcage and a way of walking that at best could be described as Emu Like. He had a weird habit of waiting until we were all seated quietly in the class before making his entrance and he would EMU into the room and up to his desk, pulling his chair out and turning it to face the class. Then he would stand behind it and swing a leg over it, placing his foot on the seating part and begin rocking it back and forward leaning on his knee as he talked. He would proceed to waffle on for forty minutes about nothing. Or preach sermons on the greatness of math. Coming from a class where we actually did math, this was all new to me but got boring real quick. It seemed to drone on worse than the minister on Sundays, day after day, week after week.

 

One day it got too much for the imp in me. I waited until everyone was in class and watched Mr. Gaunt EMU his way up the corridor and then I made my entrance. I EMUED, myself along the corridor past the tiny glass windows and into the classroom and the rest of the class burst out laughing at me as soon as they saw me. They were used to my imitations and I had my Mr. Gaunt act down pat by this stage. Before I even got to my desk he called to me so I got to my seat and pulled it out as I threw my bag down and swung my leg over the back of it in an exact imitation of his own daily morning ritualistic actions.

 

"Yes Mr. Gaunt, present and accounted for Sir." I said with a cheeky grin on my face as the rest of the class sat in silent anticipation of what was to come.

 

"You are late young lady" He said pointing his finger at me and puffing his chest out.

 

I pointed my finger right back. "So I am sir" I took at deep breath and stood there grinning with my own puny chest puffed out too.

 

He started rocking his chair back and forth as he did when he got nervous.

"If everyone was late we wouldn't have a class" He said, his hand still pointing at me.

 My hand still pointed at him and my own chair started rocking in time with his. "It's not like I missed anything important sir".

 At that point he dropped his arm across his knee and kept rocking, just staring at me. I had shocked him. He was speechless. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

 

 

I stood there silent too, my own hand now dropped into position to match his and I watched him as I rocked in time to him.

 "That is beside the point." he exploded. "You are supposed to be here present in the class to get an education"

 One of the other kids spoke up at that point. He was one of the sporty kids that I didn't have much to do with.

 
"Well Mr. Gaunt, it is the point really. You never teach us anything. You just stand there preaching all lesson".

A voice from the back of the class piped up with "and swings on his chair all day doing it". That set everyone off. The whole class started laughing out loud, letting go of all the tension build up from the confrontation.

 

Mr. Gaunt started shaking as his face turned bright purple. I was still rocking in time with his motions and he turned to me, pointed and said

"YOU!!! outside in the corridor now, everyone else silence" He stepped off his char and went and stood uncomfortably behind his desk.

 
I pointed back again and stepped off my chair in time with him. "Yes sir, at your command". The hum started around me as I stepped into the aisle and EMUED my way to the front of the class. It got louder as all the class took it up and I stepped out into the corridor where the door was ajar and I could see in.

 

The moment I stepped out the hum stopped. It was our thing, our little call of unity when one of us got into trouble to let them know it was ok and everyone was behind them.

 

I stood against the wall for a minute cursing myself for not grabbing my bag with my cigarettes in it. As I debated walking back in and grabbing my bag I pulled out a lump from my pocket. It was my little round grey plastecine ball (like play dough) . I always had it in my pocket to keep my self busy while Mr. Gaunt droned on day after day. I stated modeling shapes and then sticking them on the door where the rest of the kids could see them but Mr. Gaunt couldn't. Each new creation bought a fit of stifled giggles as they tried to keep straight faces and pretend they were absorbed in his speech.

 

By now he was lecturing again on how if we all learned our math we could become rocket scientists and accountants. I, being me, of course began to model the obvious shape. A penis and balls. I carefully arranged them into a shape that looked a bit like a face and then revealed to the class what I had created on the door.

 

They erupted into a fit of laughter again. All of them were in hysterics, not so much by the "penis and balls" concept, but at the positioning because they could see what was going to happen next…. And it did……. Classically…..

 

By this time I was innocently standing on the other side of the corridor minding my own business. When the class erupted into giggles, Mr. Gaunt EMUED his way over to the door and threw it open yelling as he did so, "What is going on out here".

 

The class lost it at this point and absolutely squealed with laughter because what Mr. Gaunt didn't realize was, that as he opened the door my new molded shape was dangling right in front of his mouth.

 

Suddenly he looked down and saw it in horror. He froze and then screamed himself and went running off down the corridor which made everyone crack up even more. Just then the bell rang for end of class. Everyone was still laughing as they made their way out. We didn't see Mr. Gaunt around the school for a week or so after that and things were never the same but that was a good thing.

 

We got a new maths teacher who actually taught Math. A few weeks later, Mr. Gaunt left teaching and joined the priesthood. No I am not joking he seriously did join the priethood and that made perfect sense to me because he didn't cut it as a teacher…. And as for me.. I am always in trouble… just the depth varies

05:14 PM - Belladonna Baddass Visits The Farm
Category: MySpace

Do you know the feeling when you finish a blog and are just about to post it... then the electricity goes out and you lose it all...

no recovery because you were just to stupid to save... well it's a horrid feeling.

Do I rewrite the blog or scrap it completely and write a new one on a completely new subject?

In this case i rewrote the blog...

So here it is

Well it was an exciting time at the farm indeed. in a space of one week we witnessed the arrival of four new goats, Belladonna and her adorable rugrats and Murphy.

i was reading the paper last week when i saw an advertisement of goats for sale. So I went out and added to my herd. I already had Midnight my adorable smelly billy goat and his wives Snowy, Curly and Dot.. The ladies are all angora cross goats and are all pregnant and ready to drop their kids any day now. snowy is Queen goat and leads the others into trouble all the time.

don't ever say Goats are dumb.. they know the blue bucket is their feed bucket and they ignore me when i bring the red water buckets down. They only had to see me get the feed from the feedshed once before I found them in the shed an hour later happily munching away on a weeks supply of grain...and they love getting into my orchard. They have worked it out really well and igured if they get under the fence into the neighbours paddock in one spot, then wander up a bit, they can get back under the fence and now be in the orchard... all my little fruits are bitten off up to about 7 foot up the trees. I love watcing them getting the ants out of the ant mounds. We have huge ant mounds about a metre tall and the goats climb up them and dance down them again, really tearing the mound up as they dance down.. this exposes the yummy juicy ants for the goats to dine on. One goat dances and they all dine out.

Feedtime is fun.. the minute they see the blue buckets, i have a herd of horny goats running full boar at me in frantic starvation.... geez *rolls eyes and peers at dirty minded readers* I meant the horns that grow from the heads :)

I try and get the feed out while I dance around trying to avoid getting stabbed by a horn on the way through.


So that was my herd, when i rang the lady up who owned the goats in the paper, I odered three little girl Boer Goat does. They are too young to mate yet so midnight has to behave himself for a few more months. The new girls are called *Dora* (black and white) because she is an explorer, *Toffee* (toffee and white) her name needs no explanation and *snickers* who is a brown, tan and white goat who looks like she has been dipped in a vat of chocolate.. hence why she is a snickers bar.

The lady offered me a little boy whether goat. He has had his bits snipped off and no one wanted him. she wanted him to go to a farm where he wouldn't end up as dinner. perfect for us. brodie has himself a little pink goat. He called it Glen of course.. what else would brodie call something... after all his rooster is called Brodie glen.. what can i say.. the boy loves his name .. I don't know what Glen snr thinks of having a deballed pink goat as his namesake...Glen is a pink colour because he is  a sanaan cross goat which gives him the pink tinge


The new goats are skittish, the people who owned them didn't interact much with the goats at all... unlike here at the farm where everything is "pets".


When the girls have their kids i will start milking them... goats milk is excellent for asthma which my kids get so slowly I will replace their cows milk with goats milk.. I think i will even attempt to make cheese and yoghurt out of the milk products too...

Then there was the farms first real visitors...mum and dad don't count because they are family lol

I drove down to Brisbane to pick belladonna up from her daughters place and actually made it in one piece. I couldn't remember the last time I had been out driving by myself without at least one of my children attached to the back seat so i really enjoyed the drive. The only thing that was missing was my mp3 player blaring out Nickelback for me to sing along too.

The first thing that struck me about Belladonna when I met her was how her pictures don't do her justice. She is so pretty. The second thing that struck me was she was just about as tiny as me. The third thing that struck me was our shared sense of wicked insane humour. Then I struck her, with the boot lid of the car, being my normal clumsy self and trying to stuff belladonna in with the luggage. Dang ..beating my guests up before we even get to the farm.

When we arrived at the farm my tribe piled out of the house and excitedly lined up to greet the visitors and from that minute on it was madness. 7 rambunctous noisy children and one adorable loving Zach.


Bella's kids are sweethearts.. Zach is so special.. I don't think anyone could meet Zach and go away from the experience without a little burst of happiness in their hearts... Zach is everything magic and worthwhile about this world. Kody is a sweet little man.. many a time he had me grinning at his "grown up" outlook and mannerisms and serious way of looking at life. Then there was my future son in law, Cailean.... As soon as Shayla feasted her eyes on him, she decided she was marrying him...... what can i say, she likes older men.. so Bella and I spent our first night organizing the future dowry.. we settled it down to five goats, three turkeys, two ducks, six laying hens and a rooster.


I took Bella to the local pub while she was here and introduced her to the locals... her comment to me when we got back in the car... "I came all this way for you to introduce me to a dude that wears his ponytail on the front of his head". This cracked us up as one of my mates Guy is a real aussie character. He is very buddha-esque with a huge belly and a wild mane of curly black hair... which just happened to be tied up in a ponytail at the top front of his head....I told her it wasn't so bad.. at least he didn't come out and greet us wearing his usual purple sarong skirt....trust me..it's scary...


I think we both would have liked to spend longer at the pub but I was driving and we were a tad worried about leaving Glen at home with extended tribe.


We spent the whole time laughing and talking.. I have never gotten along so well with someone .. it was amazing, she finished my sentences and vice versa and was usually thinking the same wicked things I was thinking.. when i was creating the honeymoon blog pictures she was with me all the way and actually "got" where I was going with it...we have similar personalities and thoughts on various subjects...we had a ball of a time and my sides are still sore from laughing constantly.


It rained while they were here and we don't have a vehicle that can take everyone so we spent most of the time here at the farm.. a tad boring for the kids but great for us...The kids still enjoyed themselves wandering around the farm and visiting the animals in all the slosh.

Belladonna witnessed Murphy coming to visit when Glen didn't get paid last week because the government says he still owns a house that he never owned..*rolls eyes* and then again when i went and ordered my usual order of southern friend chicken drumsticks and got wings instead....


The visit was over all too quickly.. I'd love to have Bella move back to Queensland so we could visit more often... when i got back from dropping her off down in Brisbane the house seemed so empty.. even with all my kids still here.. The best thing about Bella is how real she is.. what you see is what you get. no fakeness or falseness and that is why I think we got along so well.. we are both straight up front people.. we just have insane senses of humour.....

So my first ever Myspace meeting went fantastically well..... I miss them all so much and can't wait to do it all again... I think I will introduce her to Mitch next time she comes up .. when he is rolling drunk and running aorund in his leopard skin undies..... haha Bella .. you thought Guy was bizzare

Yesterday morning I woke up and it was pouring rain outside. This distressed me greatly.




I now have three and a half turkeys in amongst my menagerie. Terrance and his two lovely wives, Thelma and Louise and little baby turkey Theresa.

In my "pen" I have two shelters from the rain for the animals but the problem was my turkeys wouldn't fit under it. I need to have them protected from the elements.

Now Glen is better, much better (blog coming) but he is still not in shape to be hauling roof sheeting around and banging nails in so I decided to create a special project and to build the Turkey shelter myself with some help from my junior apprentices.


Only one problem there, I have never really "built" anything in my life and the only time I have really banged nails in is to put picture hooks up on my walls to hang paintings on. Hmm big project indeed.

I wandered up to the "bits" shed to see what materials were lying around that I could use on my mission and found some nice planks and support poles along with enough roof sheeting for the roof and side.

So with everyone looking on rather curiously (especially the goats) I started gathering my bits and pieces and dragging them down to stack outside the workshop.



I then spent half an hour arranging the bits where I wanted them and finally I was ready to begin. Glen passed me the hammer and nails out with a funny look on his face as he peered at my assembled pieces. He decided to watch as I started to join my bits together. So with an audience of one Earlydog, Five Children, One husband and four goats, I set about my task.

I asked Glen to hold a couple of bits while i nailed it together and he still had this rather weird look on his face. I shrugged and kept working. Finally I had two bits of frame completed.

Glen still had the weird look on his face as he walked back inside to finish what he had been doing and I then enlisted the children to help me carry my newly assembled frame down to the chicken coop. We all marched down the yard with our "Bits" to the surprise of my curious critters who didn't know what the heck was going on.

The kids held my two bits up which they sooned realized were the sides of my new frame, as I hammered in the cross supports. Halfway through doing this my son turned to me and said.. ahhhh now i see what your doing mum, it looks great and you had to build it in here because we wouldn't have got it through the door otherwise. Yes Sometimes my son has my logic... sometimes.....

To my credit I only hammered one of my fingers once during the whole exercise and it wasn't long before I stood back and surveyed my work. At this point the children bought me down the roof sheeting from the "bits" shed which i sooned banged up in place on the top and back of the shelter as a wind break.

Then we moved the shelter over to utilize the temporary wind breaks I had already put in the pen for the animals.


We all stood back and admired the new shelter. Terrance was first to investigate his new shelter. He stood under it looking quite pleased. I had made the cross beams so that the chickens would be able to roost on them at night with plenty of room for the turkey family to sleep out of the elements.


Of course as I was building the pen it stopped raining and the skies cleared. Probably won't get anymore rain for a month but when we do.. my turkeys will be ready for it.

I called out to Glen to come down and see the finished product. I watched as he walked down the yard and looked at my new shelter. Suddenly a big smile broke out on his face. "That looks great" he said.


I nearly burst with happiness. I was so proud of myself. I had pictured something in my head and then built it out of scraps. The best thing was..it worked. It was sturdy and strong and unlikely to fall apart so easily.

Glen then went on and said "when I was up holding it for you, i had no clue as to what the heck you were doing but now I see and you did great. They won't get wet anymore".

I hugged him and said oh well..it's a big crooked.

He laughed at me and said, "its a chook pen, its not supposed to look perfect, just be practical and that one is practical. You did a fantastic job".

I stuck my puny chest out and beamed. I was so happy with myself and had a real sense of accomplishment and achievement. I did it myself. From my plans in my head to building it myself.. and the best thing..it worked and will work for what it was designed for, for a long time.

I am still all proud like.. everytime I wander down to the pen and see a bantam chicken on my new shelter roof, or a line up of hans perched on the cross beams... and the best reward i got was when i walked down to the pen after dark to check on the animals to find Thelma sitting under the new shelter with baby Theresa peeping out from underneath her wing where she was sleeping.

I did it myself.. my plans, my ideas and my own hands that bought it to fruition.... such a tiny thing.. to build a raggy old turkey shelter.. but a special event in my life indeed.....

I am going to tackle the pig pen next and build them a pen, as my pigs.... well they are pigs... and because they are such pigs they steal all the chicken's rations so they need a pen of their own.

Eventually i want to build separate pens for all my different animals.... Rome wasn't built in a day indeed.. but I'll get there......It's not much..it prolly looks really simple and ugly 

but I built it and it didn't cost a cent :)

So when have you stepped out of your comfort zone and done and acheived something totally different and new?

Did you feel pride in your success?

A Picture Tells A Thousand Words






















These bad men were caught and stopped from violently raping and beating their many wives. Children were being raped and impregnated and held against their will. The authorities did a great job in bringing these freaks down.







Yes that is the way it has been presented but after watching it all over the past week some questions are starting to raise in my head. Lots of them. mainly about the wrongs and rights of the whole shemozzle.


On the surface, in the eyes of men and women in America today, these women and children are supressed and abused and living an attrcious life.




In the 90's there was another Texan cult. The name David Koresch still to this day sends fear into the hearts of people around the world and the whispered word "cult" soon gets bandied around. In 1996 tanks, armed gunmen, helicopters and army all invaded the Waco compound and within 30 minutes there was over 100 dead. At first everyone bought the justification for the raid but soon things emerged that were not quite right. Mistakes were made. fatal ones.






Polygamy right or wrong. Firstly I am not a polygamist. I don't think I could be because I like to know my man's heart belongs to me and our children and that if crunch time came he would be standing behind me all of the way. But that is just me. Today as a species we have moved that far from all that is natural that  WE HAVE FORGOTTEN what is natural to us. We have forgotten instinct and what is right.


I am not saying that polygamy is the way to go for the human race but lets look at natural selection for a minute here. It is all around you in nature. The survival of the fittest, only the strongest genes carry through. The fight for alpha status in the tribe and the right to "have the women". In the kangaroo population and I know the same goes for lions in Africa, there are large amounts of juvenile rogue wanderers. The alpha male gets his pride of females and the juvenile males are cast out to fight amongst themselves for supremecy and they wander, to find an eventual mate.



Human's used to do this too but then something happened. Oh yes I can hear you saying it now. Humans became "civilized". Citizen, civilian, servitude, servant slave. Oh that right. yes we became controlled.






So when we look at nature we can see that polygamy is a natural occurance to ensure the survival of the fittest. Ok then, so who told us this was wrong, Oh thats right, the bible, the same book that tells us to treat women as chattels (Christianity is the ultimate patriarchial religion and sun/son fire male worshipper), it also tells us that homosexuals should be killed and I could go on with the crap that was written because of that control. So I should listen to this book that incites hatred should I or should I listen to the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees.. and a little thing called LOVE.




Who are we to judge how these people live their lives? Who are we to take their children. Who are we to tell them the way they are living is wrong.





Lets look at the dirty side of the coin. These people work hard, they "slave" away in garden to acheive self sufficiency for their families. Their children are alongside them. We slave away in concrete office block, working our lives for the man and ignoring our children, leaving them to school and day centres to raise.





They produce their own food. Pure and natural and not a drain on system. We produce GM toxin enriched foods that are slowly or fastly destroying our planet and food chain. We buy hormonal chicken and feed on madonalds and other assorted fast foods. They live in a quiet peaceful society, relative free of crime. We live in a greedy 7 deadly sins society of anything goes that is full of dangers to us and children.


They have great access to health care. Many have glasses and braces on teeth. They are warm and surrounded by love.





These people have seen the evils in society today and chosen to live apart form it. They see that mankind has sown the seeds for his own destruction and so they have prepared themselves to be an enclosed unit. If this so called dreded bird flu sweeps our countries. Who has more chance of survival. Will you have a better chance in the middle of a big city or town fighting for medical help, fighting for food and water, surrounded by greed. Or these people who have lovingly prepared themselves for such an eventuality. And don't get me wrong, this isn't a far fetched analogy. in 22 article I pulled up on the bird flu in 2006, every single one of them had the exact same line in it. Scientist have FEARS and WARN that the bird flu will mutate into a DEADLY PANDEMIC. wow all thsoe fears.. can you image the chaos when it starts.







These peple wear funny dresses. Have you seen a goth or an emo lately? I actually admired the pastel colors and the neat clean and tidy appearance of the families.








They share a husband. Well lets get down to this. I've spoken to polygamists and read and watched many things over the years in my efforts to understand. From a womans point of view. She shares chores, instead of herself doing everything, those household tasks are shared, in company, the child minding is shared. Then there is the company and the support. Women need to have their "girls", someone to talk to, share fears, comfort them and to support them in areas that men's brains are just not wired for. The support and friendship between polygamist wives is incredible. They are closer than sisters. They care only about the family. The whole family. That is their gig in life. Their family.

and lets face it girls... you know those nights that you have a headache? ..No such worry.. no pestering with the woodpecker in the back all night..

In any culture you have rogue elements. Especially ones that can infiltrate such an oganization and use or be used by others. Our own chaotic and deviant society full of crimes drugs and abusers infects the very air these people breathe. So even if they choose o live away from society, they have no choice but to face societies consequences. They will get freaks and oddballs trying to join for their own agenda.



It brings me to mind the witch trials and religious persecution of the early centuries. Burn them. Kill them, they are different.












When an organization becomes to big and independant for their boots and starts having people listen to them and achieve some independance from the system a campaign is started, to destory credibility and to give a 'reason" for the takeover and bringing down of independance. How easy would it be, to slip someone next to a known sex offender and have him whisper in his ear about this magic place where he could have 4 or 5 young women all at once. Zap, dude wouldn't even ask questions except for directions before he would be off like a shot. Done deed, let nature take its course and two years later a whispered phone call alleging abuse of a girl who has since not been found, is all the excuse you need.


Until 1830 or so the legal age of consent in England was 13. There are still many nations where the age of consent is that low. Do we run in with commando raids to those countries and take over with guns and take the children  oh wait we used missionaries for that.. cos the bible told us so....do we march in and tell them they are living wrong, they should live like us in concrete jungles, with artificial food, shitty health services, crimes, drugs, divorce, abuse and *sigh......... yeah......


50 years ago in Australia we had the stolen generation of Australians. A whole generation of aboriginal babies taken from their mothers and placed with white families because they had a bit of white in them. (well hey, I have a bit of black in me, does it make it right for aboriginals to take my children and return them to the tribe? tit for tat). It was done because society said it was wrong for those children to live with their families, it was wrong for white children to live with black families. It destroyed a generation.

Today the government says sorry it was wrong.. small peace of mind for the stolen ones


40 years ago babies were taken from single mothers and adopted out. The mothers were told it was wrong, that it was a sin, that it was a crime. Another generation destroyed. Those children didn't get an apology.. unlikely they ever will.. they just see the confusion of a society that accepts and condones and encourages in some areas what they were cast out for at birth.

You see as many readers know I was one of those children, taken from my mother who was 18. SHe was told it was a sin to have me and not be married. I was taken from her arms and adopted into a nice christian family and led to believe all my live as a child that my mother had sinned. I was that much of a shameful sin that i wasn't even afforded the luxury of a labour ward and maternity ward. No I was born behind a sheet to hide me from the surrounding dead bodies, in a morgue. The shame of my birth was that great that I was bought into life in the bowels of death. Can you imagine how I felt as a single mother of 19 holding my fuzzball of a baby daughter in my arms for the first time? The first ever touch and bond with anything of my blood? The thoughts of how someone could have their baby taken away.....




I grew up asking why. Why was I so bad and so sinful that no one wanted me. I grew up to find out I was stolen so in turn their was someone else out there asking why was I taken from them. My brother is a wonderful person. He has a great job, a beautiful fiancee, a baby on the way, a new home and a gentle nature.... he is loved and adored by his mother, they are very close, they talk everyday and the bond betwen them is incredible.... his mother, our mother should be proud of him and she is. Don't get me wrong. I adore my adoptive parents and worship the gorund they walk on, they have done so much for me.


I was judged before I was born and have been ever since. My life's choices have never been conventional..they never were, how could they be when conventionality was ripped from my grasp with my first breath of air. It has given me something I am happy with. A perspective of looking at things form all sides.... not just the one that is being fed to me.. I can feed myself and prefer a fork to a spoon.




I guess what I am saying is .. you have listened to the media blitz on these 400 or so children and yes the trial will be the best circus I've watched for many years. You have seen that nice lady saying how she had taken custody of all those children to foster them out and go to court. Those children were taken from their parents by the government because they were different. What was wrong with going in and working with these people. Oh we have heard that there is something going on here.. ra ra...

No we had to have the "phonecall" the "excuse" the "media circus" and justification. This sends a message to the people .. hmm is it a good one or is it fear? I hope you have looked at the photos I have put here and I hope you have looked at the other side of this coin and the implications of the loss of freedom. No I do not condone abuse. There is abuse everywhere. If one child is abused in a daycare centre are all the children taken from their mothers?











Mayetism = Lies are elaborate the truth is plain and simple.

In my second year of high school I had a maths teacher, who was the endless source of amusement for me. I was a terror back then with a strong sense of social justice which made for some rebellious acts against the "system" even then.

 
To describe Mr. Gaunt to you is a tad difficult. My only description of him gets rather confused because every time I think of Mr. Gaunt, Mr. Bean pops into my head and I crack up laughing. To this day I can not differentiate between the two. I am telling you now, Rowan Atkinson modeled Mr. Bean from My Mr. Gaunt.

 

 

I had always been put in the top class but I hated it. My friends were in the lower graded classes and the other kids in my class were stuck up snobs. So I made it my mission to be put in the lower classes with my friends. Hence not long after the start of my mission I was moved down into Mr. Gaunts lower math class with all the cool people and all my friends.

 
There was only one problem with that.

Mr. Gaunt was stuck teaching the lower classes because he was well, Mr. Beanlike dumb.

 

 

He wore long socks, long shorts with a short sleeved shirt and tie and I really think his face was more Mr. Beanlike than Mr. Bean. He was a confirmed bachelor who lived in a tiny flat and the thought of him with a woman was the source of many laughter outburst by my friends and myself in class. Mind you he didn't rate as high on the idiot scale as  Mr. Freame, the Latin master but Mr. Freame and my detention stories are still to come.

 

Mr. Gaunt had no control over the class. He would turn to us and ask us if we thought we should have a math's test the next week. Well hey, back then everything had been sorted into lots of life already. He was asking every potential deviant over the years to come in our home if we WANTED a math test? Somehow we managed to persuade him every week that we were not quite ready.

 

Mr. Gaunt had many peculiarities other than having his shorts hitched up to his ribcage and a way of walking that at best could be described as Emu Like. He had a weird habit of waiting until we were all seated quietly in the class before making his entrance and he would EMU into the room and up to his desk, pulling his chair out and turning it to face the class. Then he would stand behind it and swing a leg over it, placing his foot on the seating part and begin rocking it back and forward leaning on his knee as he talked. He would proceed to waffle on for forty minutes about nothing. Or preach sermons on the greatness of math. Coming from a class where we actually did math, this was all new to me but got boring real quick. It seemed to drone on worse than the minister on Sundays, day after day, week after week.

 

One day it got too much for the imp in me. I waited until everyone was in class and watched Mr. G EMU his way up the corridor and then I made my entrance. I EMUED, myself along the corridor past the tiny glass windows and into the classroom and the rest of the class burst out laughing at me as soon as they saw me. They were used to my imitations and I had my Mr. G act down pat by this stage. Before I even got to my desk he called to me so I got to my seat and pulled it out as I threw my bag down and swung my leg over the back of it in an exact imitation of his own daily morning ritualistic actions.

 

"Yes Mr. G, present and accounted for Sir." I said with a cheeky grin on my face as the rest of the class sat in silent anticipation of what was to come.

 

"You are late young lady" He said pointing his finger at me and puffing his chest out.

 

I pointed my finger right back. "So I am sir" I took at deep breath and stood there grinning with my own puny chest puffed out too.

 

He started rocking his chair back and forth as he did when he got nervous.

"If everyone was late we wouldn't have a class" He said, his hand still pointing at me.

 My hand still pointed at him and my own chair started rocking in time with his. "It's not like I missed anything important sir".

 At that point he dropped his arm across his knee and kept rocking, just staring at me. I had shocked him. He was speechless. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

 

 

I stood there silent too, my own hand now dropped into position to match his and I watched him as I rocked in time to him.

 "That is beside the point." he exploded. "You are supposed to be here present in the class to get an education"

 One of the other kids spoke up at that point. He was one of the sporty kids that I didn't have much to do with.

 
"Well Mr. G, it is the point really. You never teach us anything. You just stand there preaching all lesson".

A voice from the back of the class piped up with "and swings on his chair all day doing it". That set everyone off. The whole class started laughing out loud, letting go of all the tension build up from the confrontation.

 

Mr. G started shaking as his face turned bright purple. I was still rocking in time with his motions and he turned to me, pointed and said

"YOU!!! outside in the corridor now, everyone else silence" He stepped off his char and went and stood uncomfortably behind his desk.

 
I pointed back again and stepped off my chair in time with him. "Yes sir, at your command". The hum started around me as I stepped into the aisle and EMUED my way to the front of the class. It got louder as all the class took it up and I stepped out into the corridor where the door was ajar and I could see in.

 

The moment I stepped out the hum stopped. It was our thing, our little call of unity when one of us got into trouble to let them know it was ok and everyone was behind them.

 

I stood against the wall for a minute cursing myself for not grabbing my bag with my cigarettes in it. As I debated walking back in and grabbing my bag I pulled out a lump from my pocket. It was my little round grey plastecine ball (like play dough) . I always had it in my pocket to keep my self busy while Mr. Gaunt droned on day after day. I stated modeling shapes and then sticking them on the door where the rest of the kids could see them but Mr. Gaunt couldn't. Each new creation bought a fit of stifled giggles as they tried to keep straight faces and pretend they were absorbed in his speech.

 

By now he was lecturing again on how if we all learned our math we could become rocket scientists and accountants. I, being me, of course began to model the obvious shape. A penis and balls. I carefully arranged them into a shape that looked a bit like a face and then revealed to the class what I had created on the door.

 

They erupted into a fit of laughter again. All of them were in hysterics, not so much by the "penis and balls" concept, but at the positioning because they could see what was going to happen next…. And it did……. Classically…..

 

By this time I was innocently standing on the other side of the corridor minding my own business. When the class erupted into giggles, Mr. Gaunt EMUED his way over to the door and threw it open yelling as he did so, "What is going on out here".

 

The class lost it at this point and absolutely squealed with laughter because what Mr. Gaunt didn't realize was, that as he opened the door my new molded shape was dangling right in front of his mouth.

 

Suddenly he looked down and saw it in horror. He froze and then screamed himself and went running off down the corridor which made everyone crack up even more. Just then the bell rang for end of class. Everyone was still laughing as they made their way out. We didn't see Mr. Gaunt around the school for a week or so after that and things were never the same but that was a good thing.

 

We got a new maths teacher who actually taught Math. A few weeks later, Mr. Gaunt left teaching and joined the priesthood. No I am not joking he seriously did join the priethood and that made perfect sense to me because he didn't cut it as a teacher…. And as for me.. I am always in trouble… just the depth varies

Australia has quietly proposed new email security that will allow bosses to spy on employees emails for "security reasons". I love how they slip something so sly in and make it look so completely innocent and a much needed have to have commodity. They actually convince people to accept this loss of privacy. Sounds so innocent, but what people don't see is the bigger picture. The greater chopping and slashing of peoples rights and privacy which is creating a race of sheep and people who believe and accept everything dished out to them. People are no longer taught to question or to be individual.

I like how they say privacy and consumer groups would be consulted. The Delphi Technique of achieving concensus is already in place in these groups everywhere. The desired outcome is already set in concrete. Soon they won't even bother to make it look good. We will just accept and follow and allow ourselves to be stripped and herded into the yards.

I love how the new "satan" AKA "the terrorist threat" is used in the article as justification of the freedom strip.

Employers To Read Workers Emails

Employers would be able to read their staff's emails under proposed new national security laws being considered by the Federal Government.
The new laws would give companies extra powers to monitor their computer networks to prevent cyber-attacks.
They would be allowed to check their staff's emails and internet communications without their consent.
Deputy Prime Minister Julia Gillard has told Channel Nine the proposed changes would step up national security of Australia's computer networks.
"We want to make sure that they are safe from terrorist attack," she said.

"Part of doing that is making sure we've got the right powers to ensure that we can tell if there's something unusual going on in the system.

"So it's a national security move, not a move about an unseemly interest in people's private emails."

A spokesman for the Attorney-General says cyber-threats are growing and that privacy experts and unions will be consulted about the proposed laws.

it is stories like this that scare me. Or more the repercussions of the story in question that scare me the most.

670 000 chinese people are without drinking water after severe drought in the Liaoning Province in North East China. The article goes on to say that 50 million Chinese face drinking water shortages each year.

That is where the scary bits come to mind. That is 50 million people. A huge amount, Over twice the population of Australia alone that face potential death each year. Do you think that these people are going to sit back and allow themselves to starve and die of thirst? All 50 million? Or are they going to get ideas? Might is right, Why should they sit back and die when they see that the grass is greener or in this case, the water is bluer on the other side of the fence.

China has self designed for it's future. A future that doesn't need nostradamus to prophecize. Maybe it was natural selection and the only way the pyramid could go, after it was built but the over population and one child boy preferred policy has created a monster. A monster that has no choice but to unleash. China grows in power every day. 

More and more western civilzation rely on China to make, create and supply many of it's basic needs. Most electrical appliances, computer parts, technology, toys and more are made in China. We funnell huge amounts of money, uncaringly into the Chinese coffers.

China buys it's basics off us like coal and other supplies and then get that money back one hundred fold through the products those basic elements produce.

The one child boy preferred regime has produced an army. An Army of horny virile fit soldiers full of national patriotism and the need for supremecy.  China gets richer but their people get poorer in base needs, that wealth has come at a price. The cost? The cost is the land, the environment, the pollution and the health of the citizens. China has not cared about the byproducts and reactions to it's massive industrial growth. If a nation cares so little about polluting it's own land and contaminating it's own people, how do they view other lands, how do they view other peoples? Is it with contempt?

China has no choice, they have sowed the seeds of their own destruction in that creation of wealth and growth. They have nowhere to go but out and over if they wish to survive. The land is polluted, it is raped of natural resources, the farmlands are either in drought or flood and the people are in the grip of health crisis with issues such as the Bird Flu and AIDs reaching epidemic proportions.

It is a matter of time, when the time is right, China will destroy the western economy and start taking over. All they need to do is to flood the market with US dollars and bamm!! worthless economy, America would not just go into recession, it would fall into a pit. The depression of the 30's will look like a bump in the road after this.

ABC Net.au - China 670 000 Have No Water. 

A drought in China's north-east Liaoning province has left nearly 700,000 people without drinking water after rainfall in the first three months of 2008 tumbled to one-fifth levels last year, the Xinhua agency said.

The area is a top grain producer, and maize and rice farming is due to begin next week, but from January to the end of March it had got less than 2 centimetres of rain.

Some 66 reservoirs have dried up, but the area has raised cash to build 1,700 new wells and expand and upgrade water conservation systems to try and ensure spring planting can go ahead, Xinhua said, citing local sources.

China's weather administration said in early April that drought parching other parts of northern China was the worst in several decades and would continue this month.

Drought and floods are perennial problems in China, which has per capita water resources that are well below the global average. Its meteorologists have said global climate change is exacerbating extreme weather, including droughts.

About 30 million Chinese in the countryside and more than 20 million in urban areas face drinking water shortages every year despite huge government investment to address the problem.