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Last updated on May 20th, 2017 at 07:16 am
Pie-eyed moonchild Traceeee Hutchison discovers the joy of conforming:
A little thing is growing. We have a chance to sing from the same songbook. And we can dare to be hopeful again.
(Via Steve)
She had an exciting experience:
I will never be able to fully explain the experience of watching — and feeling — a sea of grief collide with a wave of hope.
Now with
Get Up Mob — the online activists who’ve campaigned to free David Hicks, support asylum seekers and, now, to bridge the 17-year life expectancy gap between indigenous and non-indigenous Australians.
Enough to make many feel nauseous.
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 04 26 at 06:01 AM • permalink
to bridge the 17-year life expectancy gap between indigenous and non-indigenous Australians
Assuming the GetUp mob are all quite young and non-indigenous, if we start by killing them, we will lower the life expectancy gap by, oh, 5 years (basing my estimate on a Lancet methodology).
Posted by mr creosote on 2008 04 26 at 06:09 AM • permalink
A solution worthy of Edward De Bono.
Posted by SwinishCapitalist on 2008 04 26 at 06:23 AM • permalink
But no treatment is possible for these infected rabid Get Up Mobsters.
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 04 26 at 06:26 AM • permalink
Since the Anzac Day thread has petered out, I will have to tell this story here.
Just been on the blower to the old man. Although he spent 5 years of the war in the Navy, and a reasonable amount of that afloat in theatres on the other side of the planet, he doesn’t march. He’s always gone to his naval reunions (which generally involves flying to somewhere like Adelaide), but he’s never gotten into the Anzac Day thing. Dad was the baby of his ship, and he’s about the last one of his crew left.
I think this story might shed some light on the reason for that.
His brother spent 3 years in PNG with the Army, generally collecting every tropical disease known to man. He was too crook to stay in the Army after the war, even though he had a hankering to do so. When he was demobbed, his first job was secretary to an RSL big wig. He liked the job, liked the people and looked set to make something of it.
Then came Anzac Day. It was raining, so he stayed in bed. The next day, he was carpeted. His boss wanted to know why he didn’t march.
“Because it was raining”.
Boss: “I don’t give a bugger if it was raining – if you want to do this job, you’ll march on Anzac Day, rain or not”.
Uncle: “I spent 3 years marching in the rain in New Guinea so that I wouldn’t have to march in the rain when I got home. You can stick this job up your arse.”
He collected his hat and walked out to pursue a succesful career in other fields.
The old diggers. God bless ‘em. Wouldn’t take crap from anyone. My uncle knocked on the pearly gates just a few years back, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he told St Peter where to stick his key.
On another note, another uncle had his merchant ship shot out from under him by a sub. Some of the crew (including my uncle) stayed on board, manned the gun and blasted the sub as the ship sank under them. The captain, who had taken to the lifeboats, got a nice gong for the effort. My uncle got a pat on the head. Such is life!
Posted by mr creosote on 2008 04 26 at 06:30 AM • permalink
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!
The hyphens! The prose! The completely appalling writing for a “professional writer”!
I’m also intrigued as to what she thinks is actually going to come out of saying Sorry apart from all those compensation claims that aren’t going to happen. Nothing is going to change, because the ALP hasn’t got the courage to go forward with moves that could actually offer a real solution to the problems.
I suspect she would find your post perplexing. Kevin has addressed the concept of the Aboriginal Other.
What does that have to do with black people. OMG have you seen how they live?
Seriously – how many people calling themselves Aboriginal, that she would have come across, have dark skin?
Posted by Toiling Mass on 2008 04 26 at 07:07 AM • permalink
Sea? Wave? Why didn’t the silly bitch drown?
At the start of the video they didn’t thank the original people. There’s no “Welcome to Country”. Oopsie.
#7
(Batteries not included. May also contain small parts that could pose a choking hazard to children aged 4 years and under. Do not store near flame. Toxic when inhaled.)
fixed.
You’ve got to hand it to Kev – first he gives sight to the blind and now he solves the Aboriginal problem.
Posted by Margos Maid on 2008 04 26 at 07:21 AM • permalink
Toiling Mass, I reckon this is as close as Traceeee‘s gotten to an Aboriginal.
Although, I suppose, we can’t forget this special moment in Traceeee‘s life.
- The poor old Hutchster, her turgid writings promoting the ‘collective’, never cease to amaze. With the same old propaganda and ongoing pronouncements, for their almost childlike dream of some ‘Utopian paradise’.
Rather pathetic really.
Then again some of these people would probably have trouble grasping the realities of the real world.
Unfortunately, that is what makes them so dangerous for ones liberty and wallet.
I cannot help but see a similarity between Traceeee‘s encounter cited in your second link, and Cate Blanchett’s encounter with Bill Clinton: both seem so blithely unaware of what was really being asked.
Posted by Toiling Mass on 2008 04 26 at 07:59 AM • permalink
- Traceeee, the Queen of the ‘e’s
Has fame now over the seas;
Lyle even knows she’s a flop,
And on that note I think I will avoid ruining the meter of this ditty by going too long and just stop.Damn!Posted by Toiling Mass on 2008 04 26 at 08:19 AM • permalink
In fact a Rainbow of Hope approaches from the west in Ohio this morning, not an hour ago, gobbling up everything in its path, or at least dumping rain on its Saturday plans.
Great stories. Working for the RSL can be problematic. I was a Hon. Treasurer for several years of a Sub Branch. Loved it. But I knew of a few Sub Branches full of petty politics and in-fighting. Maybe he was tired of that.
And yes, the Captain doesn’t always go down with their boat. Pretty poor sailing there. Getting gongs was a hit and miss affair, it depended upon who your senior officer was in most cases. These days, those sort of Captains (of Industry) get promoted. That sucks hard.
Good luck to your old man.
BTW, Tracee’s byline is: Tracee Hutchison is a Melbourne writer and broadcaster.
That means she gets paid for writing her drivel. There’s hope for me yet!
Ta. Dad told me years ago that when he returned, him and his mob were looked down upon by some of the WWI mob because they hadn’t been in a “real” war. Same thing happened to the guys that came back from Korea, and the Vietnam mob copped it worst of all.
Sounds like the original diggers were in parts a very crusty old bunch, and didn’t take kindly to the young whipper-snappers invading their patch. They were members or a very exclusive club – one with a very high entry price. Not just anyone could get in.
Further to that story, when my sunken uncle finally made it back to the UK (he was sunk off Africa), he was sewn up by a doctor who also happened to be a cousin.
45 years later, that doctor had semi-retired to country WA. I fell off a roof and guess who sewed me up? The same cousin. She complained that I howled and swore just as badly as he did when she stuck the needle in.
Posted by mr creosote on 2008 04 26 at 09:37 AM • permalink
Twenty years after those seeds of musical change were sown, a big thing is materialising in a new version of From Little Things — featuring Carmody, Kelly, Missy Higgins and others — with excerpts of Rudd’s “sorry” speech and Paul Keating’s Redfern speech in 1992.
Now I’ve got that tune stuck in my head and I guess I’ll be whistling it all day.
“We have a chance to sing from the same songbook.”
For some reason, I keep thinking dissent is the highest form of patriotism. Isn’t that what we’ve always been trained to believe?
It’s all part of being part of a group. Another group of veterans, separated by wars of a decade or so, comes along and they upset the status quo. But not every returned sailor, airman or soldier joins a veteran’s group, like the Returned Services League (RSL).
The new group have to take control eventually.
Great story again. I love it.
Getting late, good night …
For a minute, I thought I was going to read this and learn that Traceee had been impregnated on Sorry Day.
Posted by Aaron – Freewill on 2008 04 26 at 11:06 AM • permalink
Damn, that juvenile tripe is headache-inducing. Is there a Bulwer-Lytton Prize for journalism like there is for fiction? If not, why the hell not?
They ought to name it the Tracee Trophee.
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2008 04 26 at 11:30 AM • permalink
#29: Is there a Bulwer-Lytton Prize for journalism like there is for fiction? If not, why the hell not?
Too many qualified contenders, Spiny. As Traceeee might put it, such a contest would be a wave of incompetents colliding with a sea of morons. I suppose the judges could just reach in and gaff one.
“Yet in the absence of really important things to complain about, it didn’t take long before we went looking for aspects of the Ruddolution to bicker about.”
You could always stop pissing and moaning about everything and work towards providing real and tangible solutions to these perceived issues. A braying jackass, good for fuckall.
Tracee has a prostate? Who knew?
Posted by joe bagadonuts on 2008 04 26 at 06:09 PM • permalink
- The “Ruddolution” (a brilliant Traceeeeee neologism?) shopping list, “the indigenous apology (aka ‘stolen generations’), Kyoto (aka ‘global warming’, aka ‘climate change’) and the Pacific Solution (’refugees’)” are your soft-left ‘feel good’ affairs with zero practical effect other than to make Traceeeeeee and her ilk, well, feel good.
Now that these burning issues have been solved and, hopefully, never be to be mentioned again, Traceeeeeee has nothing else to write about but herself.
In the heady whirl that has been Kevin Rudd’s first five months in office
So far, Ruddles has done zippo. Nada. Zilch.
And I personally hope he keeps up this dizzying pace.
Is this woman tracee a dizzy tizzy blonde, perchance?
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 04 26 at 06:44 PM • permalink
The Pacific Solution?? I haven’t heard of that. Does she mean sea water?
Or there are two other possibilities:
1. Rudd renounced the military (don’t recall that).
2. Peace has been brought to Fiji and Guam. (Haven’t heard about that either).
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 04 26 at 06:46 PM • permalink
I had the privilege of sucking Ruddles’ dick standing on the lawns outside Old Parliament House in Canberra on February 13 but I will never be able to fully explain the experience of watching — and feeling — his sea-serpent invade every orifice of my body a sea of grief collide with a wave of hope.
I’m sorry for being crude but she deserves it for such arse-licking kRudd.
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 04 26 at 06:51 PM • permalink
#32 … like the amassed cliches striking the depthless thesaurus?
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 04 26 at 06:56 PM • permalink
- #37
“Is this woman tracee a dizzy tizzy blonde, perchance?”Traceeeee Hutchison, accomplished journalist.
A symbolic apology and now an symbolic anthem – for Traceeee, all the problems of Aboriginal Australia have been washed away in just six Ruddolicious months.
Meanwhile, out in the real world, Aboriginal kids continue to sniff petrol to ease the horror of being raped and beaten and adult Aborigines are still dying young, the consequence of excessive drugs, booze and violence.
Apologies to any peas who might be reading.
Posted by SwinishCapitalist on 2008 04 26 at 08:03 PM • permalink
#42: Oh, no! She’s the Dutch Boy!!
BTW, why does that link show a childish drawing of a bird besides Traceeee‘s photo? Is it a reference to her intellect (“bird brain”)? A pet (an obese canary)? A first-grade drawing of a chicken by a favorite niece?
- Posted by Spiny Norman on 2008 04 26 at 11:32 PM • permalink
Ooh! It’s worse than I thought!
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2008 04 26 at 11:32 PM • permalink
Whew! That was close. Everybody just keep quiet…
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2008 04 26 at 11:33 PM • permalink
Yeaah -singin’ll do it -cleanse the earth of all cruelty, poverty, pestilence and evil. just like “the most influential song of all time”……. that poisonous little piece “Imagine” Worked a treat, that one.