GFC Revisited

Remember the Global financial Crisis?

I do. At a conservative estimate it cost me over $80000 of my hard-earned.

No doubt, there are heaps of other Self-Funded “Retirees” in this country in the same boat. I put the word retirees in inverted commas, as I’m not in fact retired, but still work for a living.

I work not because I have to, but because I enjoy what I do, but there are plenty of people out there with packages less sustainable than mine who have had no choice but to return to work as a result of the GFC.

That are, no doubt, more than a little unhappy about this.

It is, however, no longer news. It’s no surprise, then, that these remarks published last month scarcely raised an eyebrow in our mainstream media – 

  "Blame for this mess lies everywhere – from federal regulators who cast a blind eye, Wall Street bankers who let greed run wild, and members of Congress who failed to provide oversight," Mr Coburn, the subcommittee's top Republican, said.

"It shows without a doubt the lack of ethics in some of our financial institutions who embraced known conflicts of interest to accomplish wealth for themselves, not caring about the outcome for their customers."

This from a top Republican.

So what happened to the Rightist meme of blaming previous administrations for making it too easy for the less well-off to take out housing loans in the USA? It’s been conveniently dropped, of course, because the heat is off, and was never sustainable. It provided a distraction for a while.

It was a classic example of blaming the victim used to defend the ideology of the worst kind of fundamentalist thought – far more dangerous than any fundamentalism driven by creed or ideology.  I’m talking about market fundamentalism, espoused by Libertarians such as Ron Paul and his ilk. God help us if he ever gets a crack at the White House.

In essence, the good senator (Tom Coburn) is simply summarising the bipartisan Levin-Coburn report which lays the blame squarely at the feet of the Masters of the Universe in Wall Street.

From the report in Business Spectator of 14^th April 2011 –

Case studies from the go-go years of the real estate bubble formed the bulk of the report, which said a runaway mortgage securitisation machine churned out abusive loans, toxic securities, and big fees for lenders and Wall Street. 

It cited internal emails by Wall Street executives that described mortgage-backed securities underlying many collateralised debt obligations, or CDOs, as "crap" and "pigs." 

"Crap?"- "Pigs?" - I’ll use some strong language of my own.

These two-bob mug lairs have stolen large chunks of my hard-earned, because they lack anything that faintly resembles ethics or morality of any kind, and harbour a serious misunderstanding of the word “theft”.

And to think that forty years ago, I was conscripted to fight in a civil war in Asia because in the long run it was supposed to be in my best interests to preserve the supposed advantages of free market capitalism.

Pull the other one – it has bells on.

The only hopeful aspect of this situation is that the senate report is being referred to the Justice Department. Read it - sobering stuff...

On past performances, I don’t hold out much hope that justice will be done. I wonder how difficult it would be to track down these individuals? A lot can be achieved through a bit of basic Googling – and a class action is not beyond the bounds of possibility.


The Agent Orange class action provides a blueprint.

Muckadilla

For those who visit this blog (and looking at my stats there are a few) - apologies for the lack of posts since May 8.

There are two reasons (excuses?) for this. One is that the blogger website has been down - the other is that I've been at Muckadilla.

This came about (my sojourn at Muckadilla - that is) because I foolishly left it too late to book accommodation in Roma. Until about twelve months ago, i could book a week ahead. Not any more. A month might cut it.

This is basically because the mining companies block book the motels in Roma for their crews. You can tell when you drive past by the conglomerations of work trucks parked outside on the road because they're too big to be parked inside.

This left me to find somewhere to stay close to Roma, where most of my work was last week. Wallumbilla is 40 kms East, but all pubs and Caravan Parks were also booked out there. Muckadilla (40kms to the West on the road to Mitchell) was all that was available, so that's where I ended up.

It was OK, given the building I stayed in went up in 1961, and had air-conditioning but no heating to speak of. There was a plug-in heater fan device, but given the cold snap (zero on my last morning) it was barely adequate. I soon woke up to the fact that the room could be kept warm enough if the bathroom door was closed, but the first trip to the bathroom in the morning resembled walking into a freezer. The bathroom had permanently open ventilation windows.

The publican and his offsider were the only staff, so they had to work their butts off. On my second day, the offsider got a migraine, so the publican ran the whole show single-handed until she recovered.

He told me over breakfast on the second day that they used to rely on employing backpackers, but they have been notorious by their absence since the publicity about the Queensland floods. Seems that a message has gone out in backpacker land which says that most of the state is still underwater.

The township owes its existence to an artesian bore that had medicinal qualities. It petered out eventually.

Locals from Roma used to head out to take the waters and the pub and other infrastructure followed. Not long after the bore ran out, the pub burnt down. There may well have been a connection between these two events. It was rebuilt bigger and better in the sixties.

I reckon the place would have made an ideal place for Osama Bin Laden to hide out.

No body (not even the CIA) would  have thought of looking for him there. Pic (right) shows a map. Note the eerie resemblance between the actual compound in Abbottabad and this one.

Obama Vs Osama

These two names are distinguished only by the substitution of two letters "b" and "s ".

Given the amount of bullshit created by this event, it's somehow appropriate.

First of all, we have the "controversy" generated by the non-release of the photos of his corpse. The Right in the USA find it hard to accept that the Obama administration has actually succeeded in killing OBL, so they're trawling to develop a critical meme.

The non-release of the pics, and the varying stories about the detail of the raid is the best they can do - so they're obviously pretty desperate. Bolt's reaction is a good example of sour grapes.

There are plenty of people out there who believe that the moon landings never took place, despite the plethora of videos and photos available, so the release of some grainy shots won't keep them happy. On the other hand, why should the Yanks emulate the behaviour of the lunatic Islamic fringe by posting gruesome images, unless it be to inflame them further?

There has been a fair bit of misquoting of words from Martin Luther King about rejoicing in some one's death  (even some one as vile as OBL).

What King said from "A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther Kiing Jr" - is:   

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction … The chain reaction of evil-hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars — must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.

He’s absolutely correct, of course, and a gung-ho militaristic reaction (rather than a measured response) to asymmetric warfare is what sustains terrorism.

The current US administration has managed this situation well, in not releasing the photos – unnecessary now that Al Qaida has acknowledged his death – but they stuffed up somewhat in relation to the release of information about the raid. It reminds me eerily of “children overboard”, in that the great efforts of the military get twisted by the political spin machine.

Having said that, Obama had the guts to authorise the mission. Given the history of Carter’s debacle in Iran, that can’t have been easy. The Right’s assertion that he’s weak when it comes to military action now looks pretty lame.

The reaction of the Ratbag Right (here and in the USA) is funny. Obama's success where GWB failed has them in knots. Hence the bullshit referred to above.

Hilarious.....

The Vatican Mafia

I took to the streets on Tuesday - for the first time in over thirty years.

Those marching in the dark carrying candles with me were solidly middle-class, of all ages and both genders, and there wasn't a caftan or a set of dreadlocks to be seen. Twinsets and brollys were the go. We marched in total silence - no slogans.

We were marching to protest the removal of Bishop Bill Morris from the Toowoomba diocese. Technically, he wasn't removed, but asked to take early retirement.

Even my bride of thirty-four years was marching. She reminded me that the last time we took to the streets together was to protest the demolition of the Belle Vue Hotel by the Bjelke Petersen government in 1979. My wife became a Catholic when she married me. For the first time in my life, I feel embarrassed for being a Catholic. The church has betrayed her.

The activity was billed as a vigil, but everyone I spoke to regarded it as a protest march. There were about 500 people marching from the Bishop’s house to the Cathedral, and a further 500 at the Cathedral. On a wet and cold evening in Toowoomba, that’s a big turnout.

I’m a Catholic – but as an old mate from Longreach once said I’m not a fanatic.

But I take great exception to a few disgruntled “Catholics” who sneak about at the back of the church and make complaints to the Holy See. In the parishes these people are called the “Temple Police”.

They get their knickers in a knot if the wrong composition of altar candle wax is used, or if the priest allows a woman to deliver a homily. They get their jollies by dobbing the already overworked clergy in to the Pope for minor demeanours. They have a hotline to the Holy See, bypassing the local hierarchy.

I kid you not.

They are part of a number of organisations including CUF, most of which are the public face of a Mafia which has become very powerful since the advent of the current pope.

They operate in exactly the same way as the Mafia in that they observe strict secrecy and are embedded in parishes, but never really become part of parish life in any meaningful way. Nobody in the parishes knows who they are – they’re a kind of secret police.

They are collectively a bunch of very sad people.

The complaint against Bishop Bill Morris was that he issued a letter on 2006 canvassing the very real problem that the church has with a decline in the number of priests. This diocese extends west to the territory border and south to NSW. It’s one of the largest in the country. He suggested that the ordination of women and people already married should be considered. He didn’t advocate this – just put it out there as a discussion point. At least this is the reason put forward for his dismissal. Nobody has seen anything in print from the Vatican explaining what their objections to his activity.

Bill Morris was a great pastor. He didn’t wear a collar, and was only seen in his bishop’s regalia when it was absolutely necessary. He was more comfortable in shirtsleeves on the ground with his parishioners. This low-key approach may have been part of the church’s discomfort. He is the only bishop I have seen darken the door of a special school. He had a genuine concern for people with disabilities, as he did for all marginalised and powerless people.

The Ecclesiastical response to this phenomenon is symptomatic of an institutional malaise which is progressively destroying the Australian church.

The Catholic Church is vibrant and growing in countries where it supports progressive social justice causes. It is stagnant or in decline in countries where it aligns with the conservative clerical establishment.

If Cardinal George Pell has any courage and integrity he will intercede with the Vatican. Given Pell’s track record, I doubt we’ll see any action taken. Maybe Tim Fischer could be prevailed upon to intercede. As a Nasho and a Vietnam Vet he may recall this kind of church activity. There was no hierarchical interference back then. The army used to tell the church hierarchy to butt out.

There is enormous irony in the fact that the advocacy of the previous Pope (John-Paul II) was influential in the collapse of the Communist regime in Poland, but his successor Benedict 16 has a regressive approach to liberation theology.

These Temple Police are spiritual cowards - they need to get a life. If they were Muslims they'd be advocating Sharia.

This action drives a wedge between my catholic faith and the institutional church. There are many angry and confused Catholics in this diocese.

So what to do?

I’ve been talking to a local solicitor, a very aggrieved Catholic, who is researching a class action. My notion is to play the Temple Police at their own game, and send a complaint to the Vatican.

This complaint will be bit different; it will have thousands of signatures – rather than one or two.

(The pics of the candlelight vigil were taken on my iPhone. Here is a report from the local rag. As pointed out above, there were also a further 500 at the church.)

Sent from my iPad

David Hack Meet

This meet was held yesterday, and I went along equipped with a marquee and chairs in the hope that members of the local MX5 chapter would turn up. They didn't, which probably had something to do with the fact that I didn't let them know.

This meant that I had plenty of time for photography, although I'd left my camera at home and had to make do with my iPhone. The quality of shots is therefore somewhat limited.

I concentrated on the weird and quirky.

This Renault 750 is indeed "not 750". It is in fact a 1600, with a worked Gordini motor stuffed into the rear end. It must be interesting on a wet road. I've been fascinated by these things since being whisked through Saigon traffic in a 750 taxi in 1970.

The exhaust plumbing is amazing.

This 1952 Cadilac was impressive. It must weigh about two metric tonnes, and provides an example of automotive opulence that we will never see again. It had tinted glass and a telescopic radio antenna, both ground-breaking in the day.

This beautiful Morris 6 was parked behind my car, and I had a yarn to its owner. He told me that it was assembled in Brisbane by a company called Charles Hope that made refrigerators. I remember my parents owning a Charles Hope kero fridge when I was a kid in the fifties. This particular car participated in a couple of royal tours back in the thirties although it was black back then..

There were a number of military vehicles on display. This is a 6X6 Studebaker. Again, I remember seeing them in Saigon.

As a twelve year old I used to muck about on my uncle's cane farm west of Mackay. He had one of these, an Armstrong-Siddeley ute which he used an unregistered farm runabout. He was mad enough to let me drive it, and I learnt a lot about basic car management behind the wheel of this thing.

 I never put a mark on it - lucky I guess.

There were the regulation MGBs. This is a very tidy example.

A straight eight Packard was displayed - purple in colour.

These Volkswagen Country Buggies were sold in 1968. They were a very useful vehicle, but Volkswagen Australia was in financial trouble at the time and production was curtailed.

There was an Antonov 2 giving joy-rides for $80 a throw. It was flying all day. These are a mad Russian aircraft that have been in production since 1947, although this one was made in Poland. They need about 200metres to take off.
The photo is pretty dreadful (the iPhone doesn't zoom well), so here is a link to a video.

Update -
Just for Cav - some Fords.
This one is fairly typical of the marque....

There  were lots of GT40s... Apparently they're Fords.                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Getting There

It’s half the fun – according to the cliché. That’s especially true if you own an MX5. I’m always looking for an excuse to drive it long distances.

I had the option of flying, but decided to drive. These things are meant to be driven, after all, and I may not get the chance again any time soon.

The route took me down the New England, stopping overnight at Tamworth.

This time of the year, the countryside is showing its autumn colour.

There were wallopers everywhere. I was breathalysed twice, once in Queensland, and once in NSW.

I really don’t mind this at all. It’s worth the slight inconvenience to keep the drunks off the road.

I bought a couple of bottles of wine on the Granite Belt.

 There was a relatively new Vietnam War memorial near Singleton, the location of my old recruit training battalion.

And lots more colour in the country all the way to Gosford.

Reflections on Anzac Day

I’m home again after travelling to Sydney and back to march with a couple of blokes from my rifle platoon.

The fact that I hadn't seen one of them since June 1970 made it an interesting experience. They were good men then. The years have leavened them, and they're better men now. I also met other blokes, not from my section, but from my platoon and company.

They have dealt with their experiences in different ways. For some it has been a struggle.  One has done it especially tough, with the suicide of his beautiful daughter. He wasn't in Sydney, but I took a phone call from him on Anzac Day, which was an amazing coincidence in its timing, or maybe he simply knew we were together again.

Hearing this and a few other stories made me regret not staying connected - maybe I/we could have helped at the critical time. I've done enough counselling to learn that timing is everything in times of stress. Sometimes just being there is enough.

For me, the fact that all the men that I have reconnected with have had to deal with PTSD in one form or another is disturbing. I'm the only one as far as I know who is not TPI.

Enough of the darker stuff -our mini-reunion was a hoot -

1.30am - Reveille to catch the train into Sydney to join the Dawn Service at 4.30am. It poured - we had $3 transparent plastic ponchos that had been sensibly bought by one of the wives. It was a good thought, but putting them on in the semi-darkness was a drama. A voice from behind was heard - "look at these silly old buggers - no wonder they lost the war". Unkind, perhaps, but after watching us trying to get into them, not unexpected.

6.30am - gunfire breakfast. I exchanged a few words with Ray Martin - although I'm not entirely sure what he was doing there.

8.30am - Battalion commemorative church service at the little church in The Rocks. This was a solemn and uplifting occasion. As a Catholic, I was surprise at how similar this ceremony was to a Mass. Here I met that great soldier, Sandy Pearson, who when he found that I came from Toowoomba, told me a story of a digger who was swept to his death trying to push a jeep from a creek near Cabarlah in 1945. Apparently there were flash floods in the Toowoomba area back then similar to what happened on 10th January this year. The sad part about this story was that this digger was a survivor of the Sandakan death march. I hope I'm as spry as Sandy Pearson when (and if) I get to 92, and that I can recall as vividly as he still can, events from the past - a great man and an outstanding soldier.

9.30am - time for a break in a room in the Intercontinental. There are great views of the harbor from here.

10.30am - the march. A new banner had been made for the occasion, but it lasted about ten minutes. The two blokes carrying it had their work cut out from here, as they had to support the thing at shoulder level for the rest of the march. The Sydney march is on a much larger scale than anything else I've been part of before, and it has become unwieldy with much starting and stopping.

12.30pm - lunch at the Castlereagh club. Many lies told here for the remainder of the afternoon. I learned a lot about what happened and why it happened, especially after we split up all those years ago.

4.00pm - a suggestion that we go to the footy. This was knocked back on the basis that we had been on the go since 1.30am, and were probably not in the best shape for an NRL game, even as spectators. Besides, there were no Queensland teams playing.

5.00pm - we caught the fast train to back to Gosford where I was staying.

7.30pm - home again. It had been 18 hours since we set out. We'd walked (and marched) everywhere. Someone said that we hadn't walked so far in one day since patrolling in 1970. I reckon that's true.

Next day I had to drive back to Toowoomba to head for work which involved leaving there at 6am to drive to Roma. No wonder I feel buggered today.

Still - no regrets.

I should have done this 40 years ago. I missed the Welcome Home march in 1987 but this must be what it felt like.

This pic, which I've posted before, shows two five platoon blokes as they looked in 1969.

This is now – still looking good…only the hair is different.

Sent from my iPad