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Written by Garry

Created: 24 September 2012

Last week there was a break-in at our church office. Thieves managed to jimmy one of the back doors, and then used a trolley and presumably some very buff arms to make off with the safe from the back office. I’m quite impressed that they managed to move it at all. Less impressed with the criminals’ ability to choose their target; the safe contained neither cash nor anything of financial value. They successfully absconded with a safe full of master keys, which they self-evidently didn’t need, and the church’s roster of baptisms and marriages, dating back to the 1940s.

Police found the safe, broken open and empty, lying at the bottom of Adelaide River. That’s about a hundred kilometres away, so I don’t know how they found it, but good on them. We haven’t recovered the registry, which is a major blow to … people who want to know how many people got married in our church in 1957. It did have a lot of sentimental value to the church members, particularly those names were in the book. I suppose my baptism was noted in there somewhere.

The really interesting part from my perspective is that ours isn’t the first church these criminal masterminds have hit; apparently the Catholics and Anglicans have had safes stolen in the past month as well. I’m not sure how many break-ins it’s going to take these geniuses to realise that churches don’t actually keep vast stores of ancient and priceless treasures locked up in the vestry.

We keep them in the bank like everyone else.

So since these guys have now stolen three church safes and have presumably not come away with anything valuable enough to be worth the effort, I have come up with two possible explanations for their behaviour:

1) They’re dumb.

2) They really are criminal masterminds, but they weren’t after money in the first place. They’re on the trail of a ten thousand year old legend, promising immortality and endless riches to whoever can break the four seals on the tomb of St. Capsicum of Guam.

The first three have already been broken by an evil conglomerate of mining magnates, kidnapped nuclear-physicists and Nazis, and now the thieves are in a desperate race against time to find a way to break the seals before the Nazis take control of the entire international ruby market.

A clue to the fourth seal is rumoured to have been transcribed by an eccentric parish councillor in an undisclosed church in Darwin City, and hidden from the outside world in a secret code written across time into the very fabric of the baptisms and marriages registry, which is really a cipher for the charter of a top-secret para-church organisation known only as “The Disillusionati”. The race is on to find the right registry, crack the code and niggle St. Capsicum before it’s too late.

With the DMUC registry located at last, the criminals are currently zooming across the Philippine Sea in a hot wired speed boat, with angry Nazis in hot pursuit in hovercrafts armed with machine guns.

As an extra insurance policy against a double cross, the mining magnates have abducted the thieves’ girlfriends and taken them to a top secret lair on the outskirts of St Petersburg. But unbeknownst to them, the girlfriends are ninja pirate alien zombie librarian vampire robot kung-fu masters. And they’re ready to kick some Russian Nazi arse.

Meanwhile, our church has to have all its locks changed, and do something about shoring up the door that apparently only needed a fairly token effort to force it open. Thanks for nothing St. Capsicum.

Garry with 2 Rs

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Written by Garry

Created: 18 September 2012

I spend a lot of time making music. Most of the time it’s at church, some of the time it’s with the Chorale and every now and again it’s just me and Samantha. Last Sunday, between the three of them I started singing at half past eight in the morning and didn’t stop until four o’clock that afternoon.

The Darwin Chorale’s latest concert is coming up this weekend: Australian Horizons – Songs from the Bush to the Beach.

It’s a weird project for me, because a lot of what we’re singing is not remotely connected to any picture of Australia as I understand it, but that’s largely just because I’ve only been around for twenty-mumble years. The old colonial ballads and rollicking shearing songs are fun to sing and all, but they might as well be from the other side of the world for all the cultural connection I feel to them. And to me, the fact that when they asked us all to come in traditional Australian bush gear, we all had to go out and buy some, suggests that our cultural identity might have shifted ever so slightly at some point during the last two hundred years. Mind you, there’s no getting past it: I look seriously hot in an oilskin coat and Akubra hat. I mean, it’s no red shirt and black fedora, but I can make it work.

We’re doing some contemporary stuff too, but again, it’s not what I think of when I think of Australia. I think of Cold Chisel, John Farnham (The better old stuff. Just ignore anything after about 1995), Powder Finger, or even ACDC, although choral arrangements for that might be a little difficult. We’re doing some Ice House and Graeme Connors, which would be alright if not for the fact that we tend to sing most of it in the manner of a bunch of old women, which to be fair, broadly speaking, we are.

We are also doing an arrangement of Bogle’s Shelter, which is still one of my favourite songs of our country, and about the only one in the repertoire that I feel any real connection with. Still, if I have to pretend like I know things about droving, am frightened of cyclones and have any idea where Gundagai is, then I think I can manage it for two performances. I may be a rubbish shearer and only a mildly capable tenor, but there’s one grand Australian tradition that I have in spades: I’m a thoroughly accomplished bullshit arti… er… yarn spinner.

So come along to Australian Horizons - Songs from the Bush to the Beach, this Friday and Saturday at the Darwin Entertainment Centre’s Studio Theatre. It’s gonna be… a dinky-die, um… true blue…

Look, it’s going to be alright, okay? Make of that what you will.

Garry with 2 Rs

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Written by Garry

Created: 20 September 2012

So Australia has recommenced the relocation of asylum seekers to Nauru. I know this for a couple of reasons; for one thing, it was all over the news because the Labor party, after trying several unsuccessful attempts at implementing a useful asylum seeker policy, decided that reverting to the Pacific Solution, which they revoked upon gaining power for no other reason than because it was the Liberals who instigated it, is actually probably our best bet at the moment. That was big news, because it was a major backflip for the Gillard government and also because the Greens started yelling, screaming and crying like petulant children about it. That’s what they do most of the time, particularly when they aren’t getting things their own way.

The other reason why I couldn’t possibly have missed it is because my Facebook news feed is full of posters, memes and highly emotive slogans, some with Amnesty International branding, others with cuttingly original meme fonts from my left-leaning activist friends, informing me that my country should be ashamed of itself, that human rights are being ignored and that it isn’t illegal to seek asylum in Australia, even if arriving by boat.

A quick qualifying disclaimer: I generally support the work of Amnesty International, and make monthly financial contributions towards the important advocacy work they do. But as for the small platoon of extremely loud so-called activists jumping up and down on Facebook (don’t ask me how that metaphor is supposed to work), I really only have one piece of advice.

SHUT THE HELL UP.

The Pacific Solution is not now nor has it ever been about stopping asylum seekers, or limiting immigration, or denying anyone their human rights (Also, since when is travelling to safety in Australia from Indonesia, which is also safe, a human right?). The Pacific Solution is about putting a stop to people smuggling.

The point is to mitigate the “pull factor”. That is, Australia is awesome and everyone agrees, so naturally people want to come here. This creates a market for those who would exploit either people’s desperation or opportunism, and transport them to our waters by boat, at exorbitant prices and in inhumane and unsafe conditions. A strategy like the Pacific Solution mitigates this pull factor by putting the word out that if you get on one of these boats, you don’t end up in a house in suburban Adelaide, you end up on an island in the middle of nowhere (some might be tempted to argue that this could be preferable to Adelaide). A very nice, tropical island I’m told, populated by some really friendly locals, a bunch of significantly less friendly immigration officers and a few other applicants who are ... ahem ... in the same boat as you. But yeah, it’s in the middle of the freaking Pacific Ocean.

“But… Waaaaaaaaaah we like refugees” say the activists. Of course they do. Everyone likes refugees. That’s why we want to stop them coming here in dodgy boats that have the nasty habit of sinking and killing everyone on board. Everyone agrees we should take refugees in. Well... everyone worth listening to. The problem with the activists’ position is that, typical of lefties all over the world, they’re far too concerned with maintaining the status quo and never really stop to think of the plight of the little guy. PEOPLE ARE DYING! But I suppose that’s not as important as “standing up for human rights” and feeling all morally smug because we’re pro-refugee.

They shouldn’t have to come here in boats anyway. If I had my way (I usually don’t, but you don’t hear me whinging like a union rep. about it), here’s what would happen.

Phase 1) Anyone arriving by boat is taken to a processing centre on the moon (Apparently Nauru is already full) to have their claims verified. There should be a statute of limitations on it; like if there’s no evidence either way that you are who you say you are and your home is definitely not fit for you, then some kind of arbitrary decision gets made by some sort of tribunal with some sort of guidelines and you are either released into Australia, repatriated or (voluntarily) shot into space. None of this detention for six years rubbish. That sucks.

Phase 2) Round up all the 747s Qantas can spare, and start an officially sanctioned shuttle service from UNHCR refugee camps on the borders of places like Pakistan and Sudan express to Ozenkadnook, Victoria (just because it’s a really funny name). It might be a little expensive, but I’m sure Qantas would be happy to sponsor the initiative. They’re the spirit of Australia after all. Anyone whom the UN has granted refugee status gets a free trip to Australia, an invitation to a welcome barbeque (note: we’ll need to figure out which ones will and won’t eat what kinds of meat), a backyard cricket match and vouchers for free English classes.

Now, this might be a problem because, if the spruikers who have at me in the shopping centres are to be believed, the UNHCR is a little short of resources and manpower on the ground in those places. Okay…

Phase 3) Train up and send out a thousand or so Australian aid workers specifically to target the camps and aid the UN workers in the processing of refugee status claims. It might not be so easy to convince workers to go out there and live in a refugee camp. Let’s pay them a million dollars each for a two year contract. That should be enough to make sure we get a good selection of quality applicants. A half a billion dollars a year is probably a lot to spend, but then how much are we planning on spending for an internet connection that’s faster than the one we already have?

Phases 2 and 3 might be a ways off yet, but facing an issue like people smuggling requires a long-term commitment. It can’t be dismissed with flash-in-the-pan schemes. And it sure as hell can’t be defeated with political posturing, emotive yet vaccuous sloganeering or (least of all) internet memes.

Last I heard, the plans for a lunar detention centre were still in the concept development stage. But the point is we need to stop the damn boats. For those who need it, finding sanctuary in Australia should be easy, and shouldn’t require anyone to risk their life on a floating (well…) death trap.

It is morally unthinkable for us to continue to allow people to be hoodwinked into drowning in our waters.

Even if they arrive by boat.

Garry with 2 Rs

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Written by Garry

Created: 03 September 2012

September already huh? How did that happen?

I’ve been having an interesting time of it lately. Just at the moment it seems like I’ve got a kajillion things on the go at once, but all of them are building up to something that’s going to happen later. There’s a Chorale show coming up. I’m also off to audition tonight for a new Darwin Theatre Company Show. As usual I’m not really confident about it, but that’s never stopped me landing parts before, so we’ll see how we go. I’ve got more trips away to plan for, but the earliest one is a few weeks off yet. And church continues rollicking along from one idea to another. At some point I’m supposed to start teaching Jess’ kids piano. Haven’t quite managed to make that happen yet, but we’re getting close now.

The other immediate giveaway that I’ve got too much on the go at once, is that recently I’ve started writing at least three blog posts, only to get about a paragraph into them and discover that they really don’t have anywhere to go.

Much like this one.

Garry with 2 Rs