Obama wins Peace Prize the day his country bombs the Moon?

We have so far to go on our ever evolving journey of maturing in consciousness and recognsing it is not our right to rape and pillage nature on Earth or across cosmos. To grow up and get over the man-made belief that man has dominion over the kingdoms…

On the day that Obama wins the highest recognition for his contribution to world peace, scientist, under his presidency use an aggressive weapon to bomb the surface of the Moon.

Walt Whitman once said “I am large, I can embrace paradox”…when does paradox cross the line to expose the underlying hypocricy?

Whereas many Indigenous Brothers and Sisters recognise and honour the elements and the forces of nature, paying respect to the Moon as Grandmother who watches over us and controls the tides and waters…a group of self interest driven American scientists decided that they wanted to know if the Moon has water…so they bombed her with a missile.

After sticking a spike with the American flag into Grandmother Moons flesh during the 60’s, they have returned 40 years later with a MISSILE?!

As if we have not made a big enough mess here on Earth, these weapons of wide spread destruction and dominionation are now being sent out in the same manner of invasion into ‘unexplored’ (read ‘unexploited’) places that created such wide spread trauma across so many nations on Earth and we are still collectively recovering from. Violence as intrusion called ‘exploration’ and ‘research’ to justify the actions.

To land somewhere and assume ownership and the right to intrude into the natural eco-system with a missile-bomb that is specifically designed to rip open the surface is a clear indicator that the lessons have not yet been learnt as Mother Earth reels under the environmental pillaging that defined the post-industrial revolution world and the Sacred privilege of sharing life in the Universe is not within the realm of consciousness of many…

Hey Hey It’s Saturday Reunion- Parodying the Jackson Five- boot polish and all…

Tonight we saw the second reunion special of Hey Hey It’s Saturday, showcasing itself as a program that has long gone past its’ over due date but can still stir sentiment for a time when variety television and Saturday nights went hand in hand. Harry Connick Jr was touted as a very special guest who has a long history with the show, which expired several years ago after many years on prime time Saturday night.

The old cast re-assembled and several of the old segments reappeared, including Red Faces..a ‘talent’ show where unusual people do unusual things and are given the gong when the judges have had enough of their performance. Darryl Somers announced that there is something of interest about one of the acts, the Jackson Jive which he would tell us about at the end of their act.

The look on Harry Connicks face said it all as the audience endured – whilst others enjoyed – grown men with boot polish on their faces gyrating and jiggling in a way that was reminiscent of a satirical black and white minstrel show … the kind of ‘entertainment’ born when the N-word was at its most insidious and designed to portray black people as inferior, child like parodies of themselves.

It was not long before blogs and websites erupted with polarised view points. I think that Harry Connick Jr summed it up pretty well…you can read his statement in the report on Celebrity Truth

Harry Connick Jr Offended By Australian TV Skit

October 7th, 2009
Harry Connick Jr has made a special guest appearance on a live episode of Australian TV show Hey Hey It’s Saturday – and he was so offended by one of the skits on the program that he told host Daryl Somers, “If I knew that was going to be part of the show, I probably – I definitely – wouldn’t have done it.”

Connick Jr appeared on the iconic Australian show, which aired as part two of a reunion special on Wednesday (October 7), to sing a couple of songs and judge ‘Red Faces’, a skewed talent show.

‘Red Faces’ acts are typically silly and goofy, and this episode featured an act Jackson Jive, a parody of the Jackson Five.

It involved a group of six men who danced around with their faces painted black. The group had appeared on the show doing the same skit 20 years earlier, and were performing their act again for as part of the reunion line-up.

Connick Jr sat stony-faced throughout Jackson Jive’s performance and gave them a score of 0 out of 10, commenting that in the United States, the show would have been pulled off the air if such a skit had been played.

Later in the show, host Daryl Somers commented, “I think we may have offended you with that act, and I deeply apologize on behalf of all of us – because I know that to your countrymen, that’s an insult to have a blackface routine like that on the show, so I do apologize.”

Connick Jr, who has appeared on the show several times in the past, responded:

“Thanks Daryl, and I just wanted to say on behalf of my country, I know it was done humorously, but we’ve spent so much time trying to not make black people look like buffoons, that when we see something like that, we take it really to heart,” he said.

“I know it was in good fun, and the last thing I want to do is take this show to a down level – because you know how much I love this show and this country – but I feel like I’m at home here, and if I knew that was going to be part of the show, I probably – I definitely wouldn’t have done it.”

From my perspective there is no place for broadcasting black and white minstrel type images in this day and age -or in times past and as Harry Connick pointed out, though not in these words, white people have been taking the pi** out of black people for a long time and this kind of cheap laugh stunt is, in my view a reflection of how far we still have to go before people really understand the origins of this kind of mockery and why it is just not on…

What did Darryl tell us at the end of their performance…that they first appeared doing this same ‘act’ twenty years ago, then showed the clip.

As if seeing it in the flesh was not enough for Harry, he had to endure the rewind too.

The Virus

The Virus

I was 5 or 6 years old
a migrant child of parents
who were swept away from the sooty chimney towns
of Britain’s working class north by the promises of
a bright new life in a young country
A country brimming, spilling and erupting with
outrageous opportunities for people
especially white people
who dreamt of owning their very own land
Australia

We were the ten pound package , government assisted
chance of a life time Brits who
flocked in their thousands to these shores
and landed like sparkling white seagulls
that squabble amongst themselves as they fly in kindred form
Noisy chattering seagulls on the look out for the best morsel they can find
Some have said seagulls all look and act the same…
Poms they called us, the latest flock of new arrivals
following in the footsteps of the convicts
and our sea faring ancestors
who came to seize new territory in a land
that was not young at all.

Big skies, wide streets, pupil dazzling light
Brand new asbestos houses far removed from the
tall sooty terrace flats
cramped side by side
back Home
We staggered wearily, eagerly into government issue houses
that nestled expectantly
in the middle of tiny little paddocks
Neatly sliced quarter acre blocks that beckoned the new arrivals to
seed a brand new life and sow a future far removed
from the misty grey land
where the sun rarely shines….

This was The Lucky Country
and we thought that we were very lucky indeed!

There was much to learn and many new things to see
and for awhile my migrant child’s world was consumed with more space
new friends, big school, new sounds, interesting sights
and beach time delights
In fact we were so immersed in our new life
we were utterly, completely, mind numbingly oblivious
to the Land where we were living…

That is when the virus struck.

I remember the day it happened
Unlike those silent viruses that sit invisibly on taps
waiting to hitch a ride
on fingertips that brush past lips
this insidious, relentless, sickening parasite
travelled effortlessly upon the breath
transmitted upon invisible sound waves
elusive in their source
the destination always the same

It was very hard for young children to escape a
germ such as that!

I was standing by the milk shed when the virus struck
Its current host was a plump red freckly boy called George
He was no doubt named after a king, an uncle or grandfather back Home
The kids called George names like dot-face and carrot top
Giggling and laughing, George entertained us by
pulling faces and joining in the fun
His best friend stood with us, Peter Green,
an Australian boy who was fond of saying
“we go back 6 generations “
even though he didn’t really know what it meant
his father said it all the time
so it must have been important

Peter was teaching George
the real Australian way

We were standing in the cool shade ,
a rare find across the sweltering expanse of the asphalt playground
when the virus emerged
and the first cross infection occurred
In a loud voice that announced his cockney origins wherever he went
George sang out four words in the mocking tone of a confident child:
“Dirty coon, rotten baboon”
Four words that speared my consciousness
and left a tender wound,
a vulnerable space to host a virus
that I was too young to fight
Georges words invoked contempt
a voracious contempt that swept through the crowded school yard
as quickly as it took to
catch one another’s breath
I followed Georges eyes and saw the object of
his loathing
Curly haired Lindy and her little brother Jimmy
the Aboriginal kids

The Blacks

Lindy and Jimmy stood out from the sea of white faces
Shiny black birds surrounded by vicious seagulls
They stood holding the eyes of their attacker
whilst holding tightly onto one another’s hand
Jimmy leaned towards his big sister
terrified that the big kid with the flaming red hair
was about to lunge and squash him then and there

They were the outcast kids
the Abo’s who were never ever invited to play our games.
Peter smiled at George approvingly
and one or two others snickered our way
the virus twisting itself across children’s faces
annihilating the anti-bodies of innocence
feasting upon the collective enjoyment of
someone else being teased.

This particularly robust virus had its own language.
after coon followed different words
boong-boong –that’s the noise they make when the bull bar hits them
…before long other children joined in the heckling
until a bubonic plague of racist torment
swamped us all in its vitriolic grip
That was the day I learnt a new A, B C
the uniquely Australian alphabet
A. B. C.
Abo
Boong
Coon.

This was the alphabet I was infected with as a child

In the lucky country
A magnificent land older than the mountains
with secrets winding back through time
Something terrible occurred
A virus was unleashed long before our little family
travelled to the down under shores…..

What became of Lindy and Jimmy?

Innocent children who were called half castes, treated as out casts
Removed from their Mother, kidnapped before her very eyes

Thanks to the power of forgiveness
and decency
and common sense
strong medicines for curing the malaise
of toxic tongues
and the virus that leaves many deaf and mute and blind
Lindy and Jimmy and I became friends.
Precious friends
…..and together we are all in recovery
from the virus that strikes so many innocent children down.

Carol Omer

EarthSong Aboriginal Healing Pathways Foundation Community Launch

We have been incorporated for a year now so it was very good timing for us to have our first Communty launch.

Members of our Womens group presented the 7 Sisters Inma and the children from Kaurna Plains school danced. Naomi Hicks sang along with her children and nieces and sister and we were honoured to host several overseas guests including Grandmother Agnes Pilgrim of the 13 Grandmothers Council.

Grandmother Agnes is from the Takelma nation and has been traveling to different communities over the last few weeks.

Here are some of the photos from the day and if you are interested in learning more about what we are doing at EarthSong, please click on our facebook group here and join us:

One year later…One more painted Table. Tabling Creativity…..but there’s no rush!

What better way to spend an Autumn day going round in Circles and covering it with paint?

I made the first table this time last year…click here

Button Beads and Squashed Creativity….

My Mum came around the other day to paint the button beads we had made for a top she has knitted.
The beads are inspired by regular buttons and we are also making necklaces from them:

…we enjoyed spending time painting them, making a mess, ruining a couple …and talking…

Something happens when you sit and create together…stories begin to flow and memories are remembered as the peaceful, alpha-wave state of creativity inspires the busy mind to slow down … it is a form of open eyed meditation…

Mum was telling me stories from her childhood during the second world war in England. Educated by Nuns who had little time or tolerance for the self indulgence of ‘art’ and ‘creativity’…Mum drew me an image of the only avenue there was for creative expression…to copy a pattern within a pre-existing grid!

Thankfully Mum was able to live a creative life in spite of the repression of teachers viewing creativity close to sinful, artistic passion as selfish indulgence and individuality as yet another flaw in an already suspect Soul.

My two sisters and I are blessed to have both parents alive and well, married 52 years this year…and we are equally blessed beyond measure that our Mother did not lost her creative self in the shaming and vilifying atmosphere of an institution that today is having to face its many flaws and past errors.

Birthday Flowers that Blossomed over 7 Days….

What a wonderful surprise it was when the deliveryman arrived with a big bunch of flowers for my Birthday last Saturday!

Thank you Angelina, Alan and Andrew…and Bodhi… for your thoughtfullness from way over there in Canada.

I kept a little photo journal of the flowers over the 7 days and am delighted to share them here with you…

Purrly and the Plastic Sleeves…..

I have been sorting out my artwork and had dozens of A3 plastic sleeves in various piles around the room. I went out for a coffee and when I returned, noticed that some of the sleeves had tiny little razor marks on them and were not in the same place.

I placed the hidden camera in my hands and found the culprit.  Purrly  playing “Enemy”….

 

Congratulations to Mr and Mrs Cockatoo-Collins…

Sal and I recently returned from Stradbroke Island where we happily went to film the wonderful  Wedding of two terrific people….and what a magical time it was indeed. People travelled form across Australia for  this special, sacred  event and the Stradbroke Island seafood and hospitality was one of those life-time memory occasions. 

Thank you for the privilege of filming and creating the digital record Delvene and Che…it was a fantastic trip followed by our  travels to Grafton NSW and Pittsworth in rural Queensland….how nice to see the country side so green after this dry ol’ desert town of Adelaide!

 

Nicole Kidman Plays Didgeridoo. Hugh Jackman bounces around on one leg…

It is not surprising that Nicole Kidman attempted to play the sacred instrument, the Didgeridoo – an instrument forbidden to women, a ceremonial  instrument of many thousands of years.

That Hugh Jackman would bounce around on one leg parodying traditional dancers and think nothing of is most likely because they are anglo-Australians who reflect the  ignorance that  some….many….Australians have regarding Aboriginal protocols and Cultural Respect.

All of us white-kids of the 60’s and 70’s eras grew up in a country that had long ago turned sacred symbols into tea towels and souvenir’s, had forbidden traditional Aboriginal language to be spoken in government institutions and were taught the “A,B,C of Racism” through the example of the adults around us.

We grew up in a country where Aboriginal knoweldge was dismissed, rights were taken away the cultural practices were targeted for annihilation.

Click here for more of that story:

Nigger and the A, B, c of Racism in Australia…

Nicole and Hugh most likely did not intentionally set out to offend, the footage shows an atmosphere of fun and levity, delighting the audience with their antics…..and that in itself says a great deal about how ignorant non-Aboriginal Australia will remain until we develop meaningful relationships with Aboriginal people on a far wider scale than currently happens in order that understanding and respect can develop.

Many people have expressed delight and appreciation of the role of the Aboriginal boy in the high profile film “Australia” though as far as a true representation it is a film made by white~Australians about the romanticism of colonial Australia at a time this country was immersed in the slavery and apartheid that defined post-European invasion of ’settlement’.

The young boy mentions that the white woman coming is a sign of things being made better…the missionary-rescue story re- told black people relying on white people to determine their destiny.

Perhaps one day Nicole might have the privilege of sitting with the Elders, learning about the role of the didgeridoo in ceremony and celebration…perhaps Hugh might be invited to dance with the Men and experience the process of dancing with the rhythms of thousands of years of Dreamtime….

Until then the disregard for Cultural protocols , regardless of the role that fictional Aboriginal boys play in films, will probably continue during these very early days of recovery, recognition and respect for traditional Aboriginal values and practices.

The map below shows how many hundreds of Aboriginal groups existed in Australia prior to the invasion by European armed forces in 1788. Each First Nation group with its own extraordinarily beautiful art, music, ceremony, Spiritual and societal practices