Strange Fruits.

A joy of retirement is watching unhindered the proceedings of Royal or Corruption Commissions.

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These bodies have similar powers to Select Committees in the UK and USA.

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Unfortunately, while still employed, live streaming’s were always reduced to the corner of work computor screens, the audio by headphones.

So here’s three recent favs.

1 Royal Commission into Misconduct in the Banking, Superannuation and Financial Services Industry

2 NSW ICAC [ Operation Keppel ]

3 Vic IBAC V/Line Corruption [ Operation Esperance ]

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In the Banking Royal Commission before Hayne AC, QC, twisting tales of malfeasance in financial services were laid bare. The forensic precision of counsel assisting had me wondering why I’d not taken up this profession in earlier days. And who could forget her 2IC, sharpening his skills at the commission and looking so baby faced!

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Ruined beach at Keppel Island

At ICAC ‘Dazza Mac’s’ exploits were laid bare. Covid has held over continuing dramas until a date to be fixed. I’ve written already ’bout the star turn so far, Gladys Berejiklian, current 45th premier of NSW. Under cross examination about Maguire, she said she was a ” very private person” and “didn’t feel the relationship had sufficient substance to be made public”. She referred to Maguire as her “numero uno”

He ain’t that now.

Her high-profile barrister at ICAC is Glady’s new Boo according to her office, who said, “They have recently begun spending private time together. hehe

BTW, does being the 45th holder of political office expose frailties?

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Victorian Railways! Last time I travelled, I told the ticket seller that I just wanted to buy a ticket to travel to Ringwood, not buy the whole fringin’ network!

Watching James Pinder V/Line CEO admit to trousering  monthly payments from a cleaning contractor was exquisite.

Reminiscing on the deeds exposed to the disinfectant effects of sunlight reminded me how strange fruit twist.

BTW, I’ve yet to work out the nomenclature for inquiries or commissions.

Cyclones get folks names alphabetical order!


Bullying and Discrimination

What is discriminating and bullying? Here’s my take.

I’ve always thought I’d had a peaceful work life. Reflecting back though I can see it’s not been so. Pushed away into the frightened recesses of my mind, it’s been painful to dredge up instances I’d rather never to have recall. But I will, and three will suffice.

Promoted into corporate HO in Sydney, from an interstate factory, the place was so very Anglo. I fell afoul of a senior manager of Bradford Insulation. He took exception to some ideas I’d proposed for improving his plant performances. He reported me to my uplines, I was hauled before HR and forced to apologize. I admit I didn’t know why, but did so to save my job.

At Cheetham Salt in central Queensland, I managed a 300000 tonnes salt making operation. It really was the Wild West. Change didn’t come easy to the local folk. They’d run the place, how they chose, for a bit too long. The only Chinaman they might have seen was at theWah Har takeaway in Denham st Rockhampton. Accused of drug taking and rolling around on the road prior to a general manager visit, I can attest I’d not even taken an asprin, but did have the dirt road in front of the office smoothed with a road roller. Being clear that two years were two too many, I left after a rigged HR process, to save my sanity.

Incitec Pivot’s Geelong plant produced superphosphate, lots of it. As operations manager to improve an abysmal plant performance, a stunning turn around in output was rewarded with summary dismissal, though I snuck away with a years pay for nine months work. Karl, the regional boss, never liked the idea that a Chinese Aussie with no superphosphate experience, could turn around a plant. A plant in which he had repeated the same mistakes he’d learnt thirty years earlier, on an annual basis.

So what of now, it’s a different world. My kids and grandkids have and will grow up facing challenges I can barely imagine. House prices 6x annual income, declining, if any, superannuation, and for the moment bloody scott morrison as prime minister.

Am I content that I survived the bullying and discrimination I suffered?

Frankly I don’t know. But I’ve now retraced those memories, and leave them for my kids.

Anticipating Aurora

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We’re blessed in Tasmania, sometimes to see Aurora.

The winter solstice on June 22 approaches. However, our anticipation rises four days before on the 17th.

In preparation I’ve read the electricity meters, and wait. Sometime today burly men dressed in fluoro vests will rap on the front wire door.

They’ll wanna check were ready for them, and have secured the dog for their safety.

We have.

Last time reading period, three months ago, the fluoro men chose not to call.

So the electric company estimated our electric bill.

The dollar cost of the bill was in fact thirty to forty percent higher than actual.

I picked this up on the most helpful chart of usage this year compared to same period last year. Consumption in kW h was shown as doubled!

Perhaps they should have called the police to have them check if we were cultivating weed.

In case the fluoro men don’t visit, I read the three meters at 0749 this morning.

Just being helpful.

Oh btw, our electricity monopoly is named Aurora.

At least all Tasmanian power is sustainably sourced!

Sijo, Utenzi Replacement In The Haiku Wars

To write a verse in varied style, would beat me by a mile.

Fuck haiku stolen by the West, in forced five seven five style

Try sijo, fourteen syllables a line, the mind is reeling,

Anything to rid the world of try hard faux Spring feeling

Note: thehobartchinaman accepts a challenge to try sijo a Korean verse form (above) in his never ending battle to rid the blogosphere of inane haiku, appropriated from the Japanese

Grandfather Reflections

More than half a century ago,I was present when Dad died.

In the foreseeable future I will take the same path.

Was he aware of the path his future was taking? All that I can be certain of was his desire not to be where he was, in a hospital bed, not at home.

Little memory remains for me of the life he lead. There are fragmentary snippets, mostly of his care for others. A sublime yet explosive temper in the sanctity of the four walls of our home. His well composed urbanity in public.

Yet with all this time passed, I’m unable to trawl up any memorable moments. Is this because there were none, or has my decaying memory has failed me?

Fragments come to mind, yet none are pleasant. I’ve retained the rigidity of his thought processes, though not the rationale; I recognise this and am in equal parts proud and repulsed.

Looking into the faces of my four grandsons, I wonder what they in their turn will recall, half a century on of their grandfather.

I didn’t know my grandfathers, but suspect that in some ways I carry their legacy

Trousers Backwards, Tee Shirt Inside Out!

It’s hard to control sail boat and video at same time!

After a few days rigging then testing my new dragon force 65 radio controlled model yacht, I scrolled thru to see what I’d missed on line.

My corona was still riding high on charts.

Netanyahu, that old Houdini loses the lock pick for his hold on Israeli politics.

Boris makes a respectable woman of his girlfriend and bastard, so as not to offend Joe and Jill.

But underlying all of this, the USA is screaming to be heard.

Then it flashes up.

Did t***p wear his trousers backwards at a public speech?

What the!

Gosh that took me back!

Reminded me of a personal fashion faux pas when transiting at Tullamarine airport Melbourne, on the way to Sydney.

After the first leg of the flight, from Hobart, we’d gone outside for some non air-conditioned air.

My wife graciously advised my tee shirt was inside out. D’oh.

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Removing my Akubra, Australia’s iconic bush felt hat, much like a cowboy hat in the States,

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I wrestled with the tee shirt, catching the arm of my glasses in the sleeve.

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My dignity was restored when Edvard Munch’s ‘Scream’ was properly displayed.

So back to t***p.

Though it sounds unlikely, fact checkers wasted their time reviewing video footage in minute detail.

They resolved that the trousers were right side round.

I saw no conclusions as to whether the smooth stretch over the lower abdomen bulge was a colostomy bag, diaper or just fat. Then again they opined only on trouser reversal.

So is the evident crotch creasing and smoothed tightness over the belly just a sign of a several macca’s or simply evidence of a senior in decline?

Investigators were initially unable to sight a fly!

Forensically examined though, a fly is detected.

Which poses the question, why would you put a fly the back of a pair of trousers?

Readers are invited to quietly speculate, as I have.

Please do not let me know 🙏, I’m over it.