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A U S T R A L I A

¤  Ethnocide in the Outback

An animated history of Australia, from European discovery to modern days; funny, slapstick humour, with a little satire thrown in ↓

◊  Australian Aboriginal Genocide  ↓ [info from Australian government sources]

◊ Aboriginal History ↓ From the Dreamtime to the arrival of the British…till now.

[Spirit Alive by Didgeridoo (yidaki) – Player Kristian Benton.]

Р  Dreamtime  ↓

Φ   Aboriginal Transrock  ↓  NGORUNDERI

Features excerpts from the film production of the Australian Aborigines-first Australians. and tribal initiation. The title track is linked to the mythical figure of a god or ancestor of the tribes of Australia cosmology: NGURUDERI.

≡  The Rainbow Serpent  ↓

The Rainbow Serpent participates in the creation of the world in so many of the Aboriginal Myths of Dreamtime. This version is an amalgamation, but based largely on the work of Dick Roughsey  [Music by Richard Walley]

◊  Aboriginal Dreamtime Story  ↓

♦ «The Spirit of ULURU» ↓ Didgeridoo

¤  An outline of Nick Thomson‘s dinkam presentation of his vast continent  ↓

wmatilda

«Waltzing Matilda» is Australia’s most widely known bush ballad. This country folk song by Rolph Harris is felt by many Australians as «the unofficial national anthem of their country».

The title is Australian slang for travelling by foot with one’s goods (waltzing, derived from the German auf der Walz) in a «Matilda» (a swagman’s bundle) slung over one’s back. The song narrates the story of an itinerant worker, or «swagman», making a drink of tea at a bush camp and capturing a sheep to eat. When the sheep’s owner arrives with three police officers to arrest the worker for the theft, the worker commits suicide by drowning himself in the nearby watering hole, after which his ghost haunts the site.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled:
«Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?»

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled:
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.»

Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong.
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee.
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag:
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.»

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me»,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag:
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.»

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me»,
«Ride up with that jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.»

So up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong…
«You’ll never take me alive!» said he
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong:
«Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?»

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
«You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me. . .»
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong:
«Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?»

Waltzing-Matilda

– swagman a man who travelled the country looking for work. The swagman’s «swag«, which he carried on his back, was a blanket or cloth that wrapped up his belongings.

– billabong an oxbow lake (a cut-off river bend) found alongside a meandering river.

– coolibah tree a kind of eucalyptus tree which grows near billabongs.

– jumbuck a sheep.

– billy a can for boiling water in, usually 2–3 pints.

– tucker bag a bag for carrying food («tucker»)

– troopers policemen.

– squatter Australian squatters started as early farmers who raised livestock on land which they did not legally have the right to use; in many cases they later gained legal use of the land even though they did not have full possession, and became wealthy thanks to these large land holdings. The squatter’s claim to the land may be as uncertain as the swagman’s claim to the jumbuck.

¤ Glossaries of Australian slang … ⇒[01]⇐ / ⇒[02]⇐

¤   Aussie English ↓  ⇒[vid 01] ⇔ [vid 02] ⇔ [vid 03]⇐

• ‘Tattoo Of Santa’  ↑  [Kevin Bloody Wilson]

He was a rebel and an outlaw and an outcast
But i never saw him do nobody harm

The rumour was he’d spent some time in prison
He told me he’d been workin’ on a farm
But he always had us kids around for Christmas
And he’d always find a present for us all

And he’d always give us rides on the back of his harley
Weren’t for him, there’d be no Christmas time at all

He had a harley all in pieces in his kitchen
and bits of other bikes out in his yard
an eagle and a skull and cross bone tattooed on his arms
and a big tattoo of santa on his heart

He was regarded pretty much as a loner
and we all wondered if he’d family of his own
but i don’t remember seeing any photos
at christmas when he’d open up his home

he had this funny little pot plant in the corner
that he’d dress up just like a christmas tree
and the laughter from us kids
at the silly things he did
like them tiny bits of tinsel in his beard

He had a harley all in pieces in his kitchen
and bits of other bikes out in his yard
an eagle and a skull and cross bone tattooed on his arms
and a big tattoo of santa on his heart

Looking back I often wonder where he’d be now
or even if he’s still around at all
and if he still takes in kids
but wherever he is,
it’s coz of him I still believe in Santa Claus

And today i took my own kid to meet santa
and after all these years he hasn’t changed at all
except his hair’s a little whiter
and he’s put on a bit more middle
Oh, but the laughter of them kids just said it all

Bet there’s a harley all in pieces in his kitchen
and bits of other bikes out in his yard
an eagle and a skull and cross bone tattooed on his arms
and a big tattoo of santa on his heart

bet there’s a harley all in pieces in his kitchen
and bits of other bikes out in his yard
an eagle and a skull and cross bone tattooed on his arms
and a big tattoo of santa on his heart

Bet there’s a big tattoo of santa on his heart

 •  ‘Pub with no beer’ – Slim Dusty [1927-2003]

It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night where the wild dingos call
But there’s nothin’ so lonesome, so dull or so drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer

Now the publican’s anxious tor the quota to come
There’s a faraway look on the face of the bum
A The maid’s gone all cranky and the cook’s acting queer
What a terrible place is a pub with no beer

The stockman rides up with his dry, dusty throat
He breasts up to the bar, pulls a wad from his coat
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
When the barman says suddenly: «The pub’s got no beer!»

There’s a dog on the verandah, for his masters waits
But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover and he cringes in tear
It’s no place tor a dog round a pub with no beer

Then in comes the swagman all covered with flies
He throws down his roll, wipes the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told he say, «What’s this I hear?
I’ve trudged fifty flamin’ miles to a pub with no beer?»

Old Billy, the blacksmith, the first time in his life
Has gone home cold sober to his darling wife
He walks in the kitchen: she says: «You’re early, me dear»

Then he breakes down and tells her that the pub’s got no beer

It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night where the wild dingos call
But there’s nothin‘ so lonesome, so dull or so drear
Then to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer

•  ‘Kristmas on the Piss’   [Kevin Bloody Wilson]

yea drinkin heaps of piss, drinkin heaps of piss
spend all fucken kristmas day drinkin heaps of piss
aye reamin out the sheep, reamin out the sheep
spend all fucken kristmas day reaming out the sheep

i’m sweepin up the shed, sweepin up the shed
spent all fuckin christmas day sweepin up the shed
while were ringing out the sheep, ringing out the sheep
spent all fucken christmas day ringing out the sheep

yea kristmas on the piss, kristmas on the piss
spend all fucken kristmas day kristmas on the piss
yea kristmas on the piss, kristmas on the piss
spend all fucken kristmas day kristmas on the piss…

spend all fucken kristmas day kristmas on the piss

♦  Ned Kelly’s Last Stand at Glenrowan ↓  [June 1880]

In Australia a bandit or an outlaw was called a bushranger.
One of Australia’s most infamous bushrangers was a man named Ned Kelly

Ned Kelly was a wild young bushranger
Out of Victoria he rode with his brother Dan
He loved his people and he loved his freedom
And he loved to ride the wide open land

Ned Kelly was a victim of the changes
That came when his land was a sprout and seed
And the wrongs he did were multiplied in legend
With young Australia growing like a weed

Ned Kelly took the blame  – Ned Kelly won the fame
Ned Kelly brought the shame  – And then Ned Kelly hanged

Well he hid out in the bush and in the forest
And he loved to hear the wind blow in the trees
While the men behind the badge were coming for him
Ned said they’ll never bring me to my knees

But everything was changed and run in cycles
And Ned knew that his day was at an end
He made a suit of armour out of ploughshares
But Ned was brought down by the trooper’s men

Ned Kelly took the blame  – Ned Kelly won the fame
Ned Kelly brought the shame  – And then Ned Kelly hanged

•→ Top 10 Tourist Destinations
¤ → The Great Barrier Reef ← [National Geographic]

The largest living structure, the Great Barrier Reef spans more than 1,200 miles (2,000 kilometers) of islands and submerged reefs. A plethora of coral thrives here, along with a sweep of parrotfish, surgeonfish, barracuda, and sharks.

♦  Historian and archeologist Neil Oliver coasts down under ⇓

◊→ Adam Hills ↓ Aussie accents  [Melbourne, 2006]

I am aware that as Australians we do have the most annoying accent on the planet. I am sure you are aware of, for we all do. If you’re aware we all go up at the end of every sentence, cause we’re all too insecure to actually make a statement. So we have to make it sound like it’s a question. Cause we secretly need your approval. Even when it’s something serious.
«Suzzy got eaten by a shark.»
I’m afraid there going to be high court judgers in 30 years time handing out verdicts going «I found you guilty of murder.»
And you know what we do here in Australia? I didn’t realize ‘till we went overseas. We ask questions that don’t need answering.
«How nice was the weather today?»
I didn’t know we did that until I got to England. I was with a group of English people
«Oh, how heavy is that rain?»
They just looked at me..
«Really heavy?»
I think Jesus might’ve been an Australian. I think maybe Jesus was an Aussie and we’ve just been reading his scriptures with the wrong inflection. Maybe Jesus walked out in the Sermon of the Mount and just went «Ohh, how blessed are the meek?»

And of course the irony of it all is that we’re always so arbitrary about the languages we speak in Australia. We were almost colonised by the French. In fact we were almost colonized by the Dutch.
The Dutch arrived in the 1600s but they arrived in the part of Western Australia where desert basically meets ocean. The Dutch basically walked off their ships and walked around going «Well this is ridiculous…we cannot grow marihuana crops here.» They sailed off.
The French arrived 150 or so years later, but they arrived in Botany Bay, next to city harbour but kinda like swampy, marshland. The French looked around going «Well I agree with the Dutch, this place is shit. [mimics French]» They sailed off.
Captain Cook arrived in Botany Bay but in a rare display of British optimism. He looked around and went «Well it is a bit shit, but I think if we go around the corner it might be nicer.» Although to be fair, I have done my research, Captain Cook would not have sounded like that. Cause Captain Cook actually came from Yorkshire, which means the first words heard by English people upon sailing to Australia would’ve been «This place is focking shite!»

  ◊   ♦   ◊   ♦    Steve Hughes  ↓  Half-a-head job

London… Excellent. How are you? My name’s Steve. I’m, er, I’m from Australia actually. Some of you have probably been to Australia, or some may have probably thought about going to Australia and then… how… how…long does it take to get there? 27 hours, by plane, 27 hours in a tube of farts, it’s a reality now that you really wanna, you know, take on board, and that’s what really happens. You’re sitting there for day and a half with 600 other people eating airline food, I’m telling you – someone’s farted, you understand? You get to Australia, you think you got jetlag; just telling you, it’s not jetlag, you understand? You’ve been […]

It’s a ridiculous distance for any place to be on earth, for god’s sake, the next stop is the Moon!

It’s all like that – growing up there – you stand in there all the time going, «What’s the rest of the world doing? What are they up to? Can we join in?!

«No.»

«Why not?»

«Cause it’s a 12-hour drive to the airport. Sit down.»

Ridic… and there’s no-one there. It’s a continent twice the size of Europe, there’s 22 million people there: that’s no-one, you understand? It’s no-one there. You wanna see a queue in Australia?

An idea, they think – they think it’s crowded – you know what I’m talking about . . . Mumbai, in India, 28 million people – one city. That’s crowded – That’s traffic. Try an put health and safety regulations on these people…

Selling raw chicken on a piece of cardboard in the sun – It’s a brilliant place! We’re always told in the West that we live in the free countries, but […?] knows that’s necessarily true all the time, because you know freedom is a multifaceted construct – hum -which expands beyond political ideology … Yes … And I’ve been to Mumbai, and you can do whatever you want. You can break the law – You can do whatever you want. You wanna sell some socks on the bridge? Sell some socks on the bridge!

«Where’s your sock, mate?»

«Here. What do you want? I get three socks, a battery and a […?] You want it?»

[…?] you want to hang out of the train? You hang out of the train! You get  […?]

You wanna get to the doctor? You don’t have to get to the doctor! Why? There’s an old boy in the street with medicine. Get the run around and wait in the queue and ring up, «Can I get an appointment? See a doctor and get a prescription?» No, you buy off this bloke, in the street, and my mate in North London, he gets me he buys medicine of an old Indian bloke in the street! «Why?»

I said, «I’ll tell you why, mate. Because he’s 300 years old, he’s got one tooth and he lives in a bin. He’s STILL ALIVE! That’s why…

All right. You’ve just witnessed the beginning of Apocalypse . . . Thank you sir.

I’m actually originally from Australia and, er, it’s good to be up in here about ten years and I’ve been here this summer. The summer is being fucking brilliant this year – here and out in London – Two weeks of fucking sun! And I’m not being patronising – it’s fucking excellent – and, er, it is – ‘cause actually you have a better summer than in Australia, ‘cause it’s actually bearable, you know, in fucking Australia it’s hot as fucking shit, you understand? Four months at a time, and the Europeans go, «How come the Aboriginals didn’t build anything?» Because it’s hot as fucking shit!  […?]

‘You wanna build a castle?’

‘Fuck that! I’m going to the beach . . .’

I live in Manchester, which I like a lot. Is there anyone from the North up here? …And it’s cool up there. I like it. «Sorry darling?»

Birmingham? Birmingham? It’s , er, Midlands, Midlands, we’re talking fucking North, mate, Manchester […?]

Canal Street – it’s a gay bar in Manchester – it’s a very very openly gay scene up in Manchester, very cool, but these fellows, quite strange things, this fellow in Manchester, he came up to me, because you know, if you wear an earring in your right ear, which I do, you say in England that man’s gay… «It’s fucking weird; he does? Oh, it’s weird mate, say, in Australia it’s when you get your cock in another man’s ass.»

He got a lot of catching up to do…

No, I admit I have some homophobic friends; no-one is supposed to be like that any more, because it’s the age of political correctness, which is actually intellectual colonialism and psychological fascism to the creation of thought-crime, but I’ve got some homophobic friends and they’re…they’re very funny and a… a lot of people go, tiptoe that, ‘Is he homophobic? Well, they shouldn’t be.’

‘Well, they are.’

‘They should stop it.’

‘Well they’re not.’

‘But they shouldn’t.’

‘Well, you go and tell them.’

I mean, they’re not mental cases, my mates; they don’t hit game, they’re not waiting in the woods with a crossbow, they’re not fucking insane. They just don’t want the kids and that’s the fucking deal. One of my mates, specially, is my agent, he still can’t be without his child, but I saw him about a month ago and he’s still freaking out.

‘I don’t like them, mate. I don’t like them.’

You don’t like who? There’s the porter man.

‘The gays mate. I don’t like them.’

‘Why not mate»

‘Cause I’ll tell you why not. ‘Cause they are not real men. They’re not tough.’

They are not tough …

‘They fuck men.’

It’s hard to be gay. While the straight one: ‘Ooh I’m on a woman. Soft … feminine.’

‘What do you want, dude?

‘I wanna fuck a bloke . . .’

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