The intensity map radiates out from the population centres and fades and dies in the far reaches of the States where it meets the borders.
Trouble here. The idiot-class State politicians that were elected to enact politically correct legislation are hopelessly out of their depth. Closing borders bang-shut is cutting the meagre populations and many families in two. Or even three. Bickering amongst themselves, the State fishwives (of both sexes, if you like) have managed to destroy communities. In reply to one case (and there are thousands) in which a family was twenty kilometres from a hospital - which was on the wrong side of the border - was told to fly to Sydney, quarantine for a fortnight and take it from there. 1600 kilometre round trip. The Queensland premier blithely added Queensland has its hospitals and so does New South Wales. A farmer received a kind suggestion from a bureaucrat to fly 45 tonnes of hay to Sydney and then truck it back to his paddock 45 kilometres over the border, a twenty minute lonesome truck drive. One bureaucrat in charge of agricultural affairs asked a farmer what a header was when the farmer wanted to transport one to his crops.
Utter failure of intelligent decision-making is further compounded by sheer lack of actual knowledge, the latter having been replaced in the inner-urban bureaucrat's mind with a tattered PC songbook smeared with stale coffee and bits of avocado on sourdough. Back in the city of hysteria, an enquiry into the hotel quarantine mess was told by a security guard that he was given ten minutes training on what he had to do; no PPE instruction - and an hour's diversity and equity training.
There's no conclusion to be drawn other than the western world has for some reason elected a political class that is a garden party when there are no national issues; but when a major problem arises - and far beyond 'major' in terms of what they understood the word to have meant previously, is an unmitigated disaster.
This is political commentary. It doesn't amount to personal complaint. Right now, here it is a bitterly cold August afternoon, about nine degrees outside, and an unmistakable aroma of baking pie circulating through the house. That combination of spiced meat and browning pastry is probably the best smell a chef ever chanced on. Or maybe it just brings similar memories of the canteen at St John Bosco's all those decades ago. Noon pies, way up in those aluminium-drawered warmers.
Noon pies - the brand, and the time of day, both.
Trouble here. The idiot-class State politicians that were elected to enact politically correct legislation are hopelessly out of their depth. Closing borders bang-shut is cutting the meagre populations and many families in two. Or even three. Bickering amongst themselves, the State fishwives (of both sexes, if you like) have managed to destroy communities. In reply to one case (and there are thousands) in which a family was twenty kilometres from a hospital - which was on the wrong side of the border - was told to fly to Sydney, quarantine for a fortnight and take it from there. 1600 kilometre round trip. The Queensland premier blithely added Queensland has its hospitals and so does New South Wales. A farmer received a kind suggestion from a bureaucrat to fly 45 tonnes of hay to Sydney and then truck it back to his paddock 45 kilometres over the border, a twenty minute lonesome truck drive. One bureaucrat in charge of agricultural affairs asked a farmer what a header was when the farmer wanted to transport one to his crops.
Utter failure of intelligent decision-making is further compounded by sheer lack of actual knowledge, the latter having been replaced in the inner-urban bureaucrat's mind with a tattered PC songbook smeared with stale coffee and bits of avocado on sourdough. Back in the city of hysteria, an enquiry into the hotel quarantine mess was told by a security guard that he was given ten minutes training on what he had to do; no PPE instruction - and an hour's diversity and equity training.
There's no conclusion to be drawn other than the western world has for some reason elected a political class that is a garden party when there are no national issues; but when a major problem arises - and far beyond 'major' in terms of what they understood the word to have meant previously, is an unmitigated disaster.
This is political commentary. It doesn't amount to personal complaint. Right now, here it is a bitterly cold August afternoon, about nine degrees outside, and an unmistakable aroma of baking pie circulating through the house. That combination of spiced meat and browning pastry is probably the best smell a chef ever chanced on. Or maybe it just brings similar memories of the canteen at St John Bosco's all those decades ago. Noon pies, way up in those aluminium-drawered warmers.
Noon pies - the brand, and the time of day, both.
Sigh. We're going through our own share of insanity but at least we can travel from state to state. (Always excepting Hawaii.) I was hoping to make it to Australia this year but clearly that isn't going to happen. I wanted to see Adelaide - a patient of mine highly recommended it - and to see Melbourne again.
ReplyDeleteStay well.
Thank you!
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