#john is just such pathetic slop of a man

[hotfudgecherryrosy]

Saw the original image and immediately knew what i had to do

Ref under cut

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Robert Hight

The first weekend that he broke Matt's record I was just waiting for Matt to break it. Matt's been making me crazy cause he just hangs out at the tree like he's texting at the stop light or something... that's all I gotta say about that. 339 is a huge jump... So to get that -- it's difficult for Matt. I know Matt's issues while driving but he's in. And habit hard to break. To be honest he's gotta work a long time practicing to get out of the way he drives. I'm not gonna sit here and write it out it's obvious. Let's move forward... So... Friday night Robert nearly got his ass beat. There was a huge to do because Robert was taunting me. I haven't said a word to anyone about Robert. The only only thing that I've said is that I think that Matt can beat the record that Robert set. That is all that I said and I wrote that in Sugar's Twitter So Friday night he started taunting me and Matt told him to stop. The FBI told him to stop. It went on for over an hour so Matt went over to their teepee and got John Force to understand what Robert was doing. So John Force finally was able to stop it. Because Robert does not respect anyone. He's a disrespectful little bastard. So after John and Matt got him by the neck he started to be nice to me. I still just ignored him. So then last night he started his shit again. I had already said what I thought about his breaking the 3.8 barrier. I said that Dejoria was the first one to break 4.o so as far as I see it, he's it any better than Dejoria We all know what I say about Dejoria. And I have not always said anything nice about her. In fact I've described her character in-depth and I don't believe any if it was positive until the last six months. And I've been on about her for YEARS. So just because he broke a barrier it doesn't mean that he's some God or some Braniac or someone to look up to. So I say that yet I admire Matt very much so for breaking barriers and being the first and making history. I'm saying that it's my choice to. I can make my own choices about who I want to admire and when. I choose not to admire Robert Hight. I fully believe he masterminded and swindled and talked his way into the Force Home. I don't believe he truly loves his wife. I dont. I think he just basically fucked his way into the top of the Funny Car NHRA. Who would not want to be in with John Force? He was champion for a decade back to back back to back back to back. I think Robert Hight's eyes lit up with greed and he did whatever he could to get in with John Force. Anything he could. And I think he does anything to stay with him. I don't think that John Force is a Mr Magoo. All blind and dumb and stupid. I think that John Force uses his heart and thinks with it more often than his brain. He lives in a highly competitive world where everything is cut throat and there's so so so much greed. I think he needs to love. He needs to trust. He needs to have a world that is kind. I think he should had shielded his heart and Family more. And his business as well. Especially since that's what Robert Hight wants most. And he has it. He's president. Matt has been in love with me his whole life. I was the first person to show him love. True patience, worry, kindness. The first person that could give that without being demanding or mean or evil. I'm not Robert Hight. I will never be Robert Hight. So what he holds a record. But when that littl pansy ass crybaby bitch dies. He ain't getting into Heaven. He will be lucky to retain memories of the good feelings that he got when he broke records. So let Robert Hight hold a record for a minute. It's the lamest and most pathetic thing that he is. That's all he is. A title. A title doesn't make a man. Matt Hagan at two years old told me he was a man. I was literally scared to death of him absolutely terrified. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was me. I was scared to death and to this day 32 --- THIRTY-TWO years later, my hands still shake and my heart goes out of control beating from that memory that he told me that he loved me. I was so scared of love. Love wasn't real. Love made people do things. I didn't understand love. I was powered by love. I was absolutely powered by love and I cared to the deepest of my being. I was taught how to love. I was taught how to care. So he told me, he knew I loved and he loved me back and he wanted to keep my love forever. The deepest and most terrifying feeling, you can never ever feel, never imagine how scary it is, until you've felt it is the wonder if you can life until the end of time. If you can every single time perfectly execute caring, kindness, love, generosity. I guess you could say that Matt was ultimately terrible to me. Absolutely horrible to have that desire. That desire to be treated right and to have love forever. From me. I held him when he cried because someone else hurt him so bad that he has the deepest scars anyone has ever seen. I didn't believe that I could hurt him that same way. But despite his trust in me, he was afraid I would. And that made me want to melt into a puddle and die. Someone did it once. Why wouldn't it happen again? So obviously. Someone breaking his world record is nothing. Not a dam thing when he's thrown his heart in the middle of the floor and dared me to squish it. Told me it would break. But that he would still love me. He will break Robert Hight's record. Probably. Most definitely if he stays a Nitro Funny Car driver. I have absolutely no doubt that he will. What if he doesn't? You know what? He's talking about saving the lives of cows, deer and other animals. He's talking about carrying me because it's too painful for to walk. Talks about carrying me to the toilet. I'm 36 years old and he's like I want you to live past 80. And so that's a very long time for him to use me as a gym. It's obvious, the way that Matt Hagan has been driving this 2017 year that he really just does not give a shit about Robert stupid fucking Hight. He's got enough Wallys to make me a dildo a year for 20 years. So really. Who the fuck cares when you know he's gonna be using his dick? Point is that Robert doesn't care about anyone. Robert doesn't care about love. He doesn't have any of the values that John Force believed he had. John Force had to TEACH HIM LOVE. I actually like Robert Hight. On TV. He's got a great fun personality. But because he's been so busy hiding his personal (evil) agenda, he can't see real things. He can't see how people really are. Because he's been so busy hiding himself. Being fake. Trying to reach the top to be the bacon when he is just slop the pig eats. So maybe. Maybe just like Dejoria when she broke the 4.0 maybe he finally broke his own shell that made him a piece of shit ass hole. Luckily for him, John Force has an awkward and shy but huge and loving heart and spirit. Because if John wasn't so amazing then Robert Hight wouldn't be able to learn and to change and to become the type of person that deserves to hold a record. I hadn't said anything about Robert breaking the record. Because silence is golden. Everyone loves a nice quiet Sunday dinner when no one has to say a goddam word but be able to live in peace and Harmony. So I said nothing. I told Matt I hoped he would break it back because I believe he deserves to have it and no one else. That's exactly what I said. I'm sure Robert over heard as I can't stop him from spying. but I didn't say it for Robert. I said it for myself. I said it for Matt. But maybe Matt didn't even want to hear it... He wanted to hear me say those words but maybe that's all he wanted. He didn't want to break it. He just wanted to hear me say I think he deserves something absolutely amazing that everyone knows about. Maybe. So I didn't say anything about Robert that was negative. Things I think and feel. Things I think that will start a war and bull shit and make Robert mad. Because when Robert gets mad, he's disgusting. Absolutely furious and if you ask me is just a waste of carbon dioxide, oxygen and water. He deserves nothing but maggots out his eyes. His temper. It's disgusting And it's mostly disgusting Because he lies. And he thinks he can beat me. He thinks he can break me. He started a war with me. But I'm not playing. Because it's not a cold war. Everyone can see from his attitude how absolutely disgusting he is. They can tell from his temper he's a piece of shit. Don Schumacher is a different story. That's straight up cold war Russian spy. Like how Robert used to be before he became a spoiled brat. Like Denise. All I'm good I'm a good person then when you close the office door. It gets dirty. Disgusting and terrifying. So. I didn't say anything. I asked him to leave me alone very nicely and calmly on Friday. I told the FBI that he needed to leave me alone and so several stood between me and him. Robert wanted to pick and fight so they did the whole thing. I don't like that shit. It's stupid. I'm not going to talk to an arrogant jerk. I'll win but goddam I'll get so exhausted I will cry. (Not with Don tho) I'm sick. I very very very sick. My kidneys are on their way out and I didn't even know. I just found out... I knew they were hurting but I thought it was something else entirely. So idk if we can reverse it or what. It explains why my metformin isn't being digested and shit out whole and why my insulin has spiked so much that if it doesn't go down they will put me on insulin shots. And then I can still have a seizure because the seziure medicine I'm on for my fibromyalgia doesn't cover the type of seizures that I have. Found that out about 12 hours ago. So really. I don't give a shit about stupid ass Robert Hight. So Saturday night he's prancing around like a peacock with a dildo shoved up his ass and his Gramma chained to it and shoving it in and out for him. And I just told him "you look fucking stupid and get your stupid fucking ass away from me because you're just looking stupidier by the second" So the FBI herded him away. I should not had had to say anything. Friday night it was an outright war with alot of people just getting between me and him. Until he came back and was actually a normal human being. Whether or not it was fake I don't even care. I'm just tired of people bothering me. Then I said "big deal. Dejoria broke 4.0 some one has to break the record. Someone has to. Anyone. Just so happened to be Robert. Big deal" I really don't care about racing. I could care more but I'm not there. I'm here. At my house. Where my kid bitches we don't have water. Where Alex's dog was brutally murdered in cold blood for no reason. Where my refrigerator my stupid ex-husband insisted on getting and I didn't want but got it because it made him smile doesn't work anymore. Where I can't get my kid's iron up high enough because she won't get off her period. So it's really difficult for me to care about some record. Maybe if I helped break it I would care. But I didn't. So I don't. Maybe I helped Robert want to be a real person because I wasn't afraid to tell him that I see through his lying and selfish ass. I don't know. I don't care. I have real shit to care about. Really shit that's a whole lot more important to me than some stupid ass NHRA extra cariccular activity that someone decided to make a career out of. I didn't decide that. Matt decided he wanted to race. He always loved cars. He was so excited when j got my driver's license. He loved every second of me driving. And racing trains by crossing in front of them. Waiting till they got as close as possible before I crossed the tracks. So that's Matt. That's what Matt decided to do with his life He also decided to care about farms and shit. Call me what you want but I care more about what a cow eats before I care about how fast a car can go. I think I could beat Robert Hight's record myself. I think Matt is an absolutely amazing driver. He is. It's not just me. He proves it. But I also see what he does wrong when h drives. I can be as good as him. I know can be better than him. I don't care about Robert. I admire Matt. I want to be better than him. I want to be better than John Force when he was running back to back champions. Matt gets all bugged cause John wears a white hat. Always. I'm all.leave him alone. He deserves that hat. If I was him, I'd want w fucking crown but I would settle for a white hat everyday. People tell that I'm the best they got. I tell them God help this planet because there's Gotta be someone better than me. I pray all the time that there's people better than me And that they stay that way and not because I get worse but because they keep getting better. So I don't feel bad for wanting to beat people I admire. So here's to you Robert Hight, I don't give a shit you won and you better leave me the hell alone or you're gonna get your ass beat in every single possible way in your life. If it make you feel better then congratulations, too. Because I'm not bothered by you. Just like someone beat Dejoria's 4.0 break. Someone will break the 3.7 and the 3.6 and I think it can get down to two point two. Then someone may eventually been beat that.

[politicoscope]

Bungaree Biography and Profile

New Post has been published on https://www.politicoscope.com/bungaree-biography-and-profile/

Bungaree Biography and Profile

Bungaree born on 1775 – 24 November 1830, with a happy disposition and much intelligence, accompanied Flinders in the Investigator (1801-2) and was thus the first Aboriginal known to have circumnavigated Australia. The Ku-ring-gai man was a conspicuous figure in early Sydney, and one of the most commonly represented people in colonial imagery. Bungaree was a brilliant diplomat and despite language barriers could quickly ascertain the wishes of the coastal Aboriginal groups they encountered. Flinders therefore used him again on his most exploratory voyage, the circumnavigation of Australia in the HMS Investigator, from 1802 to 1803. It was on this expedition that much of Australia’s unknown coastline was mapped.

Many governors and colonels gave Bungaree discarded uniforms and a cocked hat; in this garb he lived and slept. He affected the walk and mannerisms of every governor from John Hunter to Sir Thomas Brisbane and perfectly imitated every conspicuous personality in Sydney. He spoke English well and was noted for his acute sense of humour. Although he had no tribal authority his adaptation to the life of the settlement, his talent for entertaining and his high standing with governors and officials established him as the leader of the township Aborigines. A pathetic remnant of their people, they spent their days giving exhibitions of boomerang throwing, doing odd jobs, and begging for bread, liquor, tobacco and cash: ‘Len’ it bread’ was Bungaree’s favoured approach.

Such facility for social performance made him an ideal mediator between the new settlers and indigenous inhabitants, and it was in the role of trusted diplomat that he accompanied Phillip Parker King to the coast of WA in 1817. In 1815 Governor Macquarie named him ‘Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’ and tried to establish him as a farmer, complete with white convict labourers, at George’s Head to the north of Sydney Harbour.

Bungaree

‘Kindness of heart’ The Investigator arrived back in Port Jackson in June 1803, having completed its circumnavigation of Australia but having failed to fully survey the entire coastline.

Back on land – where his height and penchant for wearing old military uniforms ensured he stood out – his knowledge and wit made him a popular figure with the colonisers.

On 31 January 1815 Governor Lachlan Macquarie reserved land and erected huts at Georges Head for Bungaree and his clan to ‘Settle and Cultivate’. Macquarie’s intention was to civilise all the Aboriginal people by first converting Bungaree to the ‘benefits’ of living a ‘civilised’ lifestyle and then use him as an example to other Aboriginal people. Also he hoped to keep them away from the British settlement with its temptations of alcohol and tobacco.

Bungaree – First Aboriginal Australian

Bungaree was given a fishing boat, clothing, seeds, stock and convict instructors and farming implements. Elizabeth Macquarie gave Bungaree a sow and piglets, a pair of Muscovy ducks and outfits for his first wife, Matora, and their daughter.

They were installed with a feast at which the governor decorated Bungaree with a brass plate inscribed ‘Bungaree: Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’, a completely fictitious title.

On Tuesday last, at an early hour, His Excellency the GOVERNOR and Mrs. MACQUARIE, accompanied by a large party of Ladies and Gentlemen, proceeded in boats down the Harbour to George’s Head.

The object of this excursion, we understand, was to form an establishment for a certain number of Natives who had shewn a desire to settle on some favourable spot of land, with a view to proceed to the cultivation of it. The ground assigned them for this purpose (the peninsula of George’s Head) appears to have been judiciously chosen, as well from the fertility of the soil as from its requiring little exertions of labour to clear and cultivate; added to which, it possesses a peculiar advantage of situation; from being nearly surrounded on all sides by the sea; thereby affording its new possessors the constant opportunity of pursuing their favorite occupation of fishing, which has always furnished the principal source of their subsistence.

On this occasion, sixteen of the Natives, with their wives and families were assembled, and His EXCELLENCY the GOVERNOR, in consideration of the general wish previously expressed by them, appointed Boongaree (who has been long known as one of the most friendly of this race, and well acquainted with our language), to be their Chief, at the same time presenting him with a badge distinguishing his quality as “Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe,” and the more effectually to promote the objects of this establishment, each of them was furnished with a full suit of slop clothing, together with a variety of useful articles and implements of husbandry, by which they would be enabled to proceed in the necessary pursuits of agriculture : – A boat (called the Boongaree), was likewise presented them for the purpose of fishing.

About noon, after the foregoing ceremony had been concluded, HIS EXCELLENCY and party returned to Sydney, having left the Natives with their Chief in possession of their newly as-signed settlement, evidently much pleased with it, and the kindness they experienced on the occasion.

Just like before, his knowledge proved invaluable.

“There are some wonderful anecdotes in Parker King’s journals of going ashore and asking Bungaree ‘can we eat this plant’? And Bungaree says, ‘I don’t know what the plant is, so maybe we should not eat it’,” John Paul Janke, the co-chair of the National NAIDOC committee, told ABC’s The World Today.

“In some cases, there’s a potential that he might have saved people’s lives by telling them what not to eat or what to eat.

“So to me he was more than just someone who was taken on board to show them around. He was actually, I think, a very strong confidante for Flinders.”

Bungaree did not forget his people, however.

According to Sydney Barani, while he was happy to help track escaped convicts, he “was also influential within his own Aboriginal community taking part in corroborees and ritual battles”, looking after his community by “selling or bartering fish”.

As Russian Captain Thaddeus Bellingshausen wrote, Bungaree “has always been noted for his kindness of heart, gentleness and other excellent qualities and has been of great service to the colony”, but also “often endangered his life in his efforts to keep the peace within his tribe”.

Despite the accolades from the Europeans, the racist undertones were never far away.

“The facetiousness of the sable chief, and the superiority of his mental endowments, over those of the generality of his race, obtained for him a more than ordinary share of regard from the white inhabitants of the colony,” the Sydney Gazette wrote in an article announcing his death in 1830.

Today, his legacy appears almost all but forgotten. There are statues to Flinders and even the cat Trim, but as yet, there are no statues to Bungaree recognising his role in the exploration of Australia.

“It breaks my heart that we, as Australians, don’t have a statue to Bungaree that celebrates an iconic figure and someone who actually assisted in building this continent and building our nation’s history,” Mr Janke said.

No doubt, with the discovery of Capt Flinders’ grave and the renewed interest in the Investigator, there are hopes this will soon change.

Bungaree Biography and Profile (Politicoscope / BBC / PWON / ADB)

[ecotone99]

[FN] Hope

(Hey, so, this is my first short story done for fun, several years since the last time I've written something. Figure I could get some good feedback here. Cheers.)

​

Hope

I wasn’t sure how long we had been here. I think everyone that knew of such things had been taken generations ago. Generations of terror, metal walls, and death.

The general housing unit was a nondescript room. The ceiling about thirty feet high and a square of seventy by seventy feet. The stark gray metal of the walls was unmarred, thanks in part to the fact that we had no tools, let alone clothing. The air was a temperature such that we were never cold nor hot and the air filtered was through grates in the ceiling. Evenly spaced circular lights above as well as lining the walls didn’t add to the profile of either part of the structure. The pale, yellow light was more than enough to fully illuminate the room with so many light sources. Along one wall was a long trough in which our food would arrive twice daily. A brown slop that, while not appetizing, was filling. We were generally allowed access to more than we could eat, and the remainder was sucked through openings in the bottom of the trough. The floor was packed brown dirt. Cracked and generally even ground with some shallow ruts where separate groups of us tended to spend their time. The people here were dirty and afraid. Mothers clung to children, knowing that all too soon they would be taken and the rest of their pack would have to assume the role of parents. Men sat or stood with blank expressions, often staring at their own feet or the wall. Two Hundred of us were in this unit. Our number would fluctuate somewhat as some were taken or others from separate holding areas were taken.

Their brutality rarely came for us in the general housing unit. When one of us became particularly ill or combative then they would arrive. They never spoke to us in a language we understood. There was never any attempt to communicate, not really. Something harshly growled as the offender was either dragged away, in the case of sickness, or with a slashed throat if resistance was offered. Perhaps a spike through the head, depending on which warden we had that day. I hate them. I hate these dirt floors, the steel gray walls, the feeding troughs. But most I hate those in here with me. I hate their dull expressions. I hate their acceptance of life and what is to come. I hate that they refuse to fight. They come one at a time to make their selections so, with a coordinated effort, we could stop them. While they are much larger, we could drag them down to us and suffocate them in a mass of bodies. We could do so much if we just fought together.

I can barely stand to proselytize to them of freedom and rage each day. I often preach for an hour or so before we all eventually curl up on the dirt to sleep when the lights are extinguished each day. No one agrees with me openly for fear that our captors would come for them, I think. But I think I’m close to starting the revolution. They come for the oldest and strongest among us once every 7 days, and this time there are so many to be taken. I will strike first and they will join me, I’m sure of it.

*****************************

“It happens tonight, John. Are you with me? There’s at least 20 of us this time and what’s more, is that we’re strong. We haven’t lost anyone to illness in months and we’ve had extra food lately. Now is the time to fight back!” I shiver with anticipation as I desperately plead with John, one of those to be taken this time. I can feel the rage bubbling within me, the craving to fight back. The tempest falls to a low simmer as John just utters a noncommittal grunt. But I think I see it in his eyes. The desire to fight. Yes, I think it must be there. His life, after all, depends on it.

It’s not long now until it happens. The worst part is the waiting. Each pregnant moment dragging to the next through a quagmire of fear. There is a weight to the air every day that people are dragged screaming from this pit into the unknown. This time the anxiety works in my favor, however. I’ll use the adrenaline to finally rise up. This will be our only chance, and I will be the one to lead us.

I leave John curled in a corner, his normal resting place. He is caked with dirt, his eyes distant, contemplating the horrors to come. It’s this contemplation that I rely upon to stir him to action. My posture is as confident as I can make it, though I feel the tremors inside, a constant and frantic drumbeat that reminds me of the task that I am soon going to undertake. It’s important that they see my resolve. We have no chance if there is any hesitation.

I look for the others that will be taken today and find most of them huddled together. I can see that they are indeed quite strong. Their muscles thick and corded beneath a sweat-streaked and nervous hide. I approach them, my chin held high, jaw squarely set, and approach Norman. He is the strongest of these, and it is his support I will need from this group. We as a people have no true society except for that which is based on strength. Even then the societal structure really just allows for the strongest to eat first or to pick first mate. And we certainly don’t lack for food. Those that keep us here ensure that we grow to great size before taking us.

“Are you with me today? It’s our only chance. We have to escape.” again my enthusiasm tinged with terror threatens to quaver my voice, though I manage to maintain composure.

“Escape to where? You know that no one has ever found a way out. And who’s to say that whatever’s out there isn’t worse than here?”

“We’ve been over this, Norman. This is no sort of life for us. We live in fear and wait for the next one of those things to take us or our children. Don’t you want to at least try for something better for your unborn child?”

Norman sets his jaw clenches his fists. He stares in front of him before responding,“Yeah, Jim. I’m with you. You’re right, we have to try. I can get most of the others to fight as well. I hope you know what you’re doing” His eyes settle on mine, searching for any sign of trepidation. I know well how he longs to be present for the birth of his child. His only chance to leave a lasting impression here. I can feel his fear, and it steels my resolve. I shall not fail.

“Of course. I’ve been planning this since they took Susan from me. They only ever come one at a time and there’s more of us than there’s ever been before. We go for the legs, topple them, and make for the exit. I’ve seen light at the end of the hallway and that must lead outside. We can do this. I haven’t heard of an uprising since I was a child, so they’ll be complacent. I know it.” Still, having to fight one of the Overseers turns my stomach. Their great size at 25 feet high and such broad shoulders. And their eyes. I steel myself and suppress the thought. I remember who I’m doing this for and shove down my fear. A feeling calm surges through me and I know that I will be the one to save us all.

He meets my gaze and nods. He will follow me into the fight when the time comes. He knows that to follow me is our only hope.

***************************************

The time is almost here. Norman and his people wait with me near the colossal steel door that leads out to their domain and hopefully our salvation. I look at those around me and see their wide eyes and shuffling feet. I look for John but don’t see him where he usually sits.

The clanging of metal mechanisms within the door sound as the Overseer that has come to take us opens the door. Shrieks from all those behind us threaten to deafen me as I gaze at the horror before me. The two cleft hooves of the creature stepped toward me. Its furred goat legs were attached to the body of a powerfully built man. Atop its shoulders was a black ram’s head with six red eyes on either side, arrayed down the snout. My swallow my fear and I begin my assault upon its leg. I go for the knee of the creature and try to destroy the knee in order to bring it down. I am able to land a few solid blows, and duck back from a strike. I’m not sure if it’ll stop the creature, but at least it’s something.

I glance over my shoulders at those fighting with me and witness the horror. Two additional creatures have come already through the doorway, crushing much of the resistance. Half of the others have already been slaughtered behind me, and the other half backs away in fear. I am struck by a powerful fist in the top of my head and I feel the world come off its axis. Darkness edges my vision as numb limbs give out from underneath me and I fall into the dirt.

I try to stand or to move, but I feel nothing. My body now a prison within a living hell. A pathetic croak escapes my lips, an attempt to call for help, as my eyes find Norman. He lies with a broken body, still alive and screaming for help. His whole body quakes with fear, knowing that all too soon he’ll be finished off.

The room shifts around me as the creature reaches down and grabs my arm, hoisting me into the air. I can my people, crying and screaming with fear. Many just stare with blank expressions, having accepted their fate long ago.

The Overseer leans over and grabs Norman who simply moans and chokes on his own blood, the strength I had once seen in his eyes a distant phantom. With two of its selections made, it turns around and leaves the room. The creature steps back into the hallway, and for the first time, I see the exterior of my home. Enclosure after enclosure of my people towers as high as I can see. More enclosures than I can count, stretching into eternity, each level connected by a series of metal staircases. The corridor is well lit, and I can see hundreds of other Overseers doing the exact same in other housing areas as I am carried towards a nearby door at the end of the corridor. A spare arm opens the door and I realize that none of the horrors I have seen so far even come close to that which I am now a witness.

A colossal room, the likes of which I had never even dreamed of lay before me. Great conveyor belts all move in a grid towards the center of the room, where several different bins resided, in which the shattered remains of all those who have been selected are deposited. Along the sides of the conveyor belts, our captors stand as they flay, eviscerate, and destroy their selections. The great six red eyes of our captors gaze with ecstasy at the agony of the men and women upon which they work. Terrible, hooked blades that work with expert precision to carve all of the meat and flesh from bone. They seem to delight in the screams and sight of the excrement expelled from the immense agony or, failing that, death.

I feel nothing as my hands are clamped to the cutting surface, my legs roughly jerked so that my body is as straight as the beast can make it. I can see it salivate at the sight of my body, but I can feel its disappointment at my lack of agony. I cry with a deep agony as I see now that there is no hope. My people will simply live and die horrible deaths within these walls. Butchered for our meat.

My only solace is that I feel nothing as my skin is flayed from my body, and my muscles cut from my bones. The last of my strength gives out and I finally fade into darkness.

submitted by /u/Rampaging_Waffle [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/30N4oX5

[sensitivefern]

Day after day, Boswell treads water. His flurries of zeal at court come to little... Boswell is mostly in Edinburgh, and I, rather lost in the petty social swirl there, found no character as continuously engaging as the hero’s big toe, with its ingrown toenail; this pathetic digit, already familiar to readers of the Continental journals, makes its reappearance on April 24, 1779 (‘My sore foot was troublesome’), and inflames and remisses, is maltreated and suffered and dreamed about (‘I dreamt that I saw the cause of my toe being so painful’), and at last, to our great relief, before dinner on January 27, 1780, is decisively cut into by the shilly-shallying surgeon (‘I felt myself resolved to bear the pain, so he cut a good deal of the nail of my great toe out of the flesh. The operation hurt me much. But as soon as it was over I perceived that I was much relieved for I felt only the pain of a green wound instead of the pain of my toe irritated by the nail in it’), and henceforth slowly heals, to fade finally from notice on the 6th of May... Like doctor and patient, reader and writer grope together through a puzzling mass of symptoms and uncathartic crisis that unfold with a maddening organic slowness toward the ambiguous optimum of further survival.

[John Updike]

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The state closest to the Beni was based around Lake Titicaca, the 120-mile-long alpine lake that crosses the Peru-Bolivia border. Most of this region has an altitude of twelve thousand feet or more. Summers are short; winters are correspondingly long. This ‘bleak, frigid land’, wrote... Victor von-Hagen, ‘seemingly was the last place from which one might expect a culture to develop’. But in fact the lake is comparatively warm, and so the land surrounding it is less beaten by frost than the surrounding highlands. Taking advantage of the better climate, the village of Tiwanaku... began after about 800 B.C. to drain the wetlands around the rivers that flowed into the lake from the south...

[1491]

===

T’ville, from Aug. 6, 1966. The house looks better with new screens in the windows, the roof and the back bedroom painted. [...] It was the day of the fireman’s fair and parade. Both Mary’s girls were in the parade, which went by just after we had finished dinner. Susan was playing the clarinet... The whole thing was touching and cheering. Each town had sent its delegation, and they competed with one another in music, display, drum-majorette stick-twirling and other tricks. In one, there was a girl who did flips; in another, the girl would suddenly sink to the ground, then quickly start up again.

[Edmund Wilson]

===

No eaves; so that very quickly one of the hallmarks of compound work, never referred to in the manifestos, became the permanently streaked and stained white or beige stucco exterior wall.

Then there was the principle of ‘expressed structure’. The bourgeoisie had always been great ones for false fronts (it hardly needed saying), thick walls of masonry and other grand materials, overlaid with every manner of quoin and groin and pediment and lintel and rock-faced arch, cozy anthropomorphic elements such as entablatures and capitals, pilasters and columns, plinths and rusticated bases, to create the impression of head, midsection, and foot, and every manner of grandiose and pointless gesture – spires, Spanish tile roofs, bays, corbels – to create a dishonest picture of what went on inside, architecturally and socially. All this had to go.

[From Bauhaus to Our House]

===

That one Holstein cow should produce 50,000 pounds of milk in a year may appear to be marvelous... But what if her productivity is dependent upon the consumption of a huge amount of grain (about a bushel a day), and therefore upon the availability of cheap petroleum? What if she is too valuable (and too delicate) to be allowed outdoors in the rain? What if the proliferation of her kind will again drastically reduce the number of dairy farms and farmers? Or, to use a more obvious example, can we afford a bushel of grain at a cost of five to twenty bushels of topsoil lost to erosion?

[Wendell Berry]

===

Unlike Benjamin Rush, whose medical theories and practices have been relegated to the slops of American history, Nathaniel Hawthorne has remained one of the canonical elect, a certified literary genius... But Hawthorne was hardly isolated from the great currents of nineteenth-century American gastrosophy. His sister-in-law, Mary Tyler Peabody Mann (Mrs. Horace Mann), wrote one of the most representative books of Hawthorne’s time, Christianity in the Kitchen. [...] One of Hawthorne’s short stories from 1846 carries the epigastric title: ‘Egotism; or, The Bosom Serpent’. The story’s protagonist, Roderick Elliston, is a ‘lean man, of unwholesome look’, his complexion ‘a greenish tinge over its sickly white’. As it turns out, Elliston’s problem is more than your garden-variety dyspepsia. He is the ‘man with a snake in his bosom’. And thus Elliston’s convulsive alimentary refrain: ‘It gnaws me! It gnaws me!’

[A Short History of the American Stomach]

===

SKUNK: Many investigators have made detailed food studies of skunks and have shown that their principal food is insects and most of the insects taken are injurious to plant life. When fruits are ripe and plentiful, they constitute an important part of skunk diet. Most of these are gathered from the surface of the ground, so represent waste as far as man is concerned. Mice constitute another important food item and their destruction is favorable to man. An occasionally bird is taken and not infrequently they were previously injured or already dead when taken by the skunk. Under these circumstances, this too is a service to man.

Skunks deserve much credit for digging out the June bug or May bettle in both the larval and adult stages.

===

spiny restharrow | Ononis spinosa Mediterranean region, extending out Turkestan way... the root is used medicinally – its constituents include ‘glycosidic iso-flavonoids and their aglycones formononetin and onogenin, the triterpene α-onocerin, the little known ononid’... ‘Along with parsley root, licorice rhizomes and juniper berries it is an important component of diuretic herbal tea mixtures’... in the wild it is found on dry banks, forest edges, rough grasslands principally on limestone soils... is prickly... Leguminosae...

===

Liatris L. spicata ‘pioneers plant succession in strip-mined spoils and in old fields’... chief pollinators are bumble bees and bee flies; the glorious flower moth (Schinia gloriosa) feeds upon it as a well camouflaged caterpillar... ants and lady bugs... sheep find numerous species tasty; deer, the opposite... voles are said to collect the corms, storing them in their pantries...

[The Book of Field and Roadside]

===

❚David Frum Retweeted Sky News Australia BREAKING Sky News sources say Donald Trump was 'yelling' during his phone conversation with PM Turnbull and hung up after 25 minutes

Shy Shelter Dog FLIPS OUT After Realizing He's Been Adopted

The Trump Era Is Al Franken’s Time to Shine The Minnesota senator has emerged from the shadows to make life hell for Republicans.

Donald Trump Grabs National Prayer Breakfast By The Pussy This dumb ritual happens every year, called the National Prayer Breakfast. It’s a bipartisan shindig, where politicians on both sides of the aisle, of all faiths, can come together and agree to spend the morning praying to Jesus. It’s super evangelical, run by a creepy cult of right-wing dominionist Christians called The Family. So obviously our secular government should embrace it as a tradition, right? ANYWAY. Donald Trump got to go to his first National Prayer Breakfast on Thursday morning, and instead of doing like a common Obama, making nice speeches about faith and family, while the wingnuts in attendance rock back and forth and pray for the unborned babies, Trump urged everybody to pray REALLY HARD... for Arnold Schwarzenegger to get better ratings on “The Celebrity Apprentice,” because that’s what these folks really care about.

HOW TO WIN FRIENDS AND INFLUENCE MOTHERFUCKERS

Doctor, writer, and all-round polymath Thomas Browne (1605-1682) is now better known for his literary work but in his own time was legendary as the greatest – and first – scientific populariser of his day. Browne’s best-selling Pseudodoxia Epidemica, or Common Errors, debunked myths in botany, geology, geography, anatomy, and zoology, as well as history and scripture. Going through seven editions during his lifetime and translated into several European languages, it made him the first public “expert” and a pioneer of popular science. Common Errors is a landmark work of myth-busting. In it Browne tackles important questions such as: do elephants have knees? Why do we say “bless you” when we sneeze? Is the earth a magnetic body? Did Jesus have long hair? Who would win in a fight, a toad or a spider? [...] One of Browne’s most prolonged experiments involved the ostrich, acquired by his son Edward. A flock arrived in London in the early 1660s, brought by the Moroccan ambassador as a gift for the king, and immediately caused a splash – exotic animals were rare in England at the time. Edward managed to get hold of one and kept it in his stables. A frenzy of letters between father and son followed, discussing its eating and sleeping habits, the shape of its feet, and the noises it made (“a strange odde noyse … especially in the morning and perhaps when hungry”). This experiment in collaborative zoo-keeping came to an abrupt end when the ostrich died in its sleep one night, as Browne had predicted, being unused to the cold of a London January. It was immediately dissected. Browne was nothing if not thorough.

[politicoscope]

Bungaree Biography and Profile

New Post has been published on https://www.politicoscope.com/bungaree-biography-and-profile/

Bungaree Biography and Profile

Bungaree born on 1775 – 24 November 1830, with a happy disposition and much intelligence, accompanied Flinders in the Investigator (1801-2) and was thus the first Aboriginal known to have circumnavigated Australia. The Ku-ring-gai man was a conspicuous figure in early Sydney, and one of the most commonly represented people in colonial imagery. Bungaree was a brilliant diplomat and despite language barriers could quickly ascertain the wishes of the coastal Aboriginal groups they encountered. Flinders therefore used him again on his most exploratory voyage, the circumnavigation of Australia in the HMS Investigator, from 1802 to 1803. It was on this expedition that much of Australia’s unknown coastline was mapped.

Many governors and colonels gave Bungaree discarded uniforms and a cocked hat; in this garb he lived and slept. He affected the walk and mannerisms of every governor from John Hunter to Sir Thomas Brisbane and perfectly imitated every conspicuous personality in Sydney. He spoke English well and was noted for his acute sense of humour. Although he had no tribal authority his adaptation to the life of the settlement, his talent for entertaining and his high standing with governors and officials established him as the leader of the township Aborigines. A pathetic remnant of their people, they spent their days giving exhibitions of boomerang throwing, doing odd jobs, and begging for bread, liquor, tobacco and cash: ‘Len’ it bread’ was Bungaree’s favoured approach.

Such facility for social performance made him an ideal mediator between the new settlers and indigenous inhabitants, and it was in the role of trusted diplomat that he accompanied Phillip Parker King to the coast of WA in 1817. In 1815 Governor Macquarie named him ‘Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’ and tried to establish him as a farmer, complete with white convict labourers, at George’s Head to the north of Sydney Harbour.

Bungaree

‘Kindness of heart’ The Investigator arrived back in Port Jackson in June 1803, having completed its circumnavigation of Australia but having failed to fully survey the entire coastline.

Back on land – where his height and penchant for wearing old military uniforms ensured he stood out – his knowledge and wit made him a popular figure with the colonisers.

On 31 January 1815 Governor Lachlan Macquarie reserved land and erected huts at Georges Head for Bungaree and his clan to ‘Settle and Cultivate’. Macquarie’s intention was to civilise all the Aboriginal people by first converting Bungaree to the ‘benefits’ of living a ‘civilised’ lifestyle and then use him as an example to other Aboriginal people. Also he hoped to keep them away from the British settlement with its temptations of alcohol and tobacco.

Bungaree – First Aboriginal Australian

Bungaree was given a fishing boat, clothing, seeds, stock and convict instructors and farming implements. Elizabeth Macquarie gave Bungaree a sow and piglets, a pair of Muscovy ducks and outfits for his first wife, Matora, and their daughter.

They were installed with a feast at which the governor decorated Bungaree with a brass plate inscribed ‘Bungaree: Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’, a completely fictitious title.

On Tuesday last, at an early hour, His Excellency the GOVERNOR and Mrs. MACQUARIE, accompanied by a large party of Ladies and Gentlemen, proceeded in boats down the Harbour to George’s Head.

The object of this excursion, we understand, was to form an establishment for a certain number of Natives who had shewn a desire to settle on some favourable spot of land, with a view to proceed to the cultivation of it. The ground assigned them for this purpose (the peninsula of George’s Head) appears to have been judiciously chosen, as well from the fertility of the soil as from its requiring little exertions of labour to clear and cultivate; added to which, it possesses a peculiar advantage of situation; from being nearly surrounded on all sides by the sea; thereby affording its new possessors the constant opportunity of pursuing their favorite occupation of fishing, which has always furnished the principal source of their subsistence.

On this occasion, sixteen of the Natives, with their wives and families were assembled, and His EXCELLENCY the GOVERNOR, in consideration of the general wish previously expressed by them, appointed Boongaree (who has been long known as one of the most friendly of this race, and well acquainted with our language), to be their Chief, at the same time presenting him with a badge distinguishing his quality as “Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe,” and the more effectually to promote the objects of this establishment, each of them was furnished with a full suit of slop clothing, together with a variety of useful articles and implements of husbandry, by which they would be enabled to proceed in the necessary pursuits of agriculture : – A boat (called the Boongaree), was likewise presented them for the purpose of fishing.

About noon, after the foregoing ceremony had been concluded, HIS EXCELLENCY and party returned to Sydney, having left the Natives with their Chief in possession of their newly as-signed settlement, evidently much pleased with it, and the kindness they experienced on the occasion.

Just like before, his knowledge proved invaluable.

“There are some wonderful anecdotes in Parker King’s journals of going ashore and asking Bungaree ‘can we eat this plant’? And Bungaree says, ‘I don’t know what the plant is, so maybe we should not eat it’,” John Paul Janke, the co-chair of the National NAIDOC committee, told ABC’s The World Today.

“In some cases, there’s a potential that he might have saved people’s lives by telling them what not to eat or what to eat.

“So to me he was more than just someone who was taken on board to show them around. He was actually, I think, a very strong confidante for Flinders.”

Bungaree did not forget his people, however.

According to Sydney Barani, while he was happy to help track escaped convicts, he “was also influential within his own Aboriginal community taking part in corroborees and ritual battles”, looking after his community by “selling or bartering fish”.

As Russian Captain Thaddeus Bellingshausen wrote, Bungaree “has always been noted for his kindness of heart, gentleness and other excellent qualities and has been of great service to the colony”, but also “often endangered his life in his efforts to keep the peace within his tribe”.

Despite the accolades from the Europeans, the racist undertones were never far away.

“The facetiousness of the sable chief, and the superiority of his mental endowments, over those of the generality of his race, obtained for him a more than ordinary share of regard from the white inhabitants of the colony,” the Sydney Gazette wrote in an article announcing his death in 1830.

Today, his legacy appears almost all but forgotten. There are statues to Flinders and even the cat Trim, but as yet, there are no statues to Bungaree recognising his role in the exploration of Australia.

“It breaks my heart that we, as Australians, don’t have a statue to Bungaree that celebrates an iconic figure and someone who actually assisted in building this continent and building our nation’s history,” Mr Janke said.

No doubt, with the discovery of Capt Flinders’ grave and the renewed interest in the Investigator, there are hopes this will soon change.

Bungaree Biography and Profile (Politicoscope / BBC / PWON / ADB)

[politicoscope]

Bungaree Biography and Profile

New Post has been published on https://www.politicoscope.com/bungaree-biography-and-profile/

Bungaree Biography and Profile

Bungaree born on 1775 – 24 November 1830, with a happy disposition and much intelligence, accompanied Flinders in the Investigator (1801-2) and was thus the first Aboriginal known to have circumnavigated Australia. The Ku-ring-gai man was a conspicuous figure in early Sydney, and one of the most commonly represented people in colonial imagery. Bungaree was a brilliant diplomat and despite language barriers could quickly ascertain the wishes of the coastal Aboriginal groups they encountered. Flinders therefore used him again on his most exploratory voyage, the circumnavigation of Australia in the HMS Investigator, from 1802 to 1803. It was on this expedition that much of Australia’s unknown coastline was mapped.

Many governors and colonels gave Bungaree discarded uniforms and a cocked hat; in this garb he lived and slept. He affected the walk and mannerisms of every governor from John Hunter to Sir Thomas Brisbane and perfectly imitated every conspicuous personality in Sydney. He spoke English well and was noted for his acute sense of humour. Although he had no tribal authority his adaptation to the life of the settlement, his talent for entertaining and his high standing with governors and officials established him as the leader of the township Aborigines. A pathetic remnant of their people, they spent their days giving exhibitions of boomerang throwing, doing odd jobs, and begging for bread, liquor, tobacco and cash: ‘Len’ it bread’ was Bungaree’s favoured approach.

Such facility for social performance made him an ideal mediator between the new settlers and indigenous inhabitants, and it was in the role of trusted diplomat that he accompanied Phillip Parker King to the coast of WA in 1817. In 1815 Governor Macquarie named him ‘Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’ and tried to establish him as a farmer, complete with white convict labourers, at George’s Head to the north of Sydney Harbour.

Bungaree

‘Kindness of heart’ The Investigator arrived back in Port Jackson in June 1803, having completed its circumnavigation of Australia but having failed to fully survey the entire coastline.

Back on land – where his height and penchant for wearing old military uniforms ensured he stood out – his knowledge and wit made him a popular figure with the colonisers.

On 31 January 1815 Governor Lachlan Macquarie reserved land and erected huts at Georges Head for Bungaree and his clan to ‘Settle and Cultivate’. Macquarie’s intention was to civilise all the Aboriginal people by first converting Bungaree to the ‘benefits’ of living a ‘civilised’ lifestyle and then use him as an example to other Aboriginal people. Also he hoped to keep them away from the British settlement with its temptations of alcohol and tobacco.

Bungaree – First Aboriginal Australian

Bungaree was given a fishing boat, clothing, seeds, stock and convict instructors and farming implements. Elizabeth Macquarie gave Bungaree a sow and piglets, a pair of Muscovy ducks and outfits for his first wife, Matora, and their daughter.

They were installed with a feast at which the governor decorated Bungaree with a brass plate inscribed ‘Bungaree: Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’, a completely fictitious title.

On Tuesday last, at an early hour, His Excellency the GOVERNOR and Mrs. MACQUARIE, accompanied by a large party of Ladies and Gentlemen, proceeded in boats down the Harbour to George’s Head.

The object of this excursion, we understand, was to form an establishment for a certain number of Natives who had shewn a desire to settle on some favourable spot of land, with a view to proceed to the cultivation of it. The ground assigned them for this purpose (the peninsula of George’s Head) appears to have been judiciously chosen, as well from the fertility of the soil as from its requiring little exertions of labour to clear and cultivate; added to which, it possesses a peculiar advantage of situation; from being nearly surrounded on all sides by the sea; thereby affording its new possessors the constant opportunity of pursuing their favorite occupation of fishing, which has always furnished the principal source of their subsistence.

On this occasion, sixteen of the Natives, with their wives and families were assembled, and His EXCELLENCY the GOVERNOR, in consideration of the general wish previously expressed by them, appointed Boongaree (who has been long known as one of the most friendly of this race, and well acquainted with our language), to be their Chief, at the same time presenting him with a badge distinguishing his quality as “Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe,” and the more effectually to promote the objects of this establishment, each of them was furnished with a full suit of slop clothing, together with a variety of useful articles and implements of husbandry, by which they would be enabled to proceed in the necessary pursuits of agriculture : – A boat (called the Boongaree), was likewise presented them for the purpose of fishing.

About noon, after the foregoing ceremony had been concluded, HIS EXCELLENCY and party returned to Sydney, having left the Natives with their Chief in possession of their newly as-signed settlement, evidently much pleased with it, and the kindness they experienced on the occasion.

Just like before, his knowledge proved invaluable.

“There are some wonderful anecdotes in Parker King’s journals of going ashore and asking Bungaree ‘can we eat this plant’? And Bungaree says, ‘I don’t know what the plant is, so maybe we should not eat it’,” John Paul Janke, the co-chair of the National NAIDOC committee, told ABC’s The World Today.

“In some cases, there’s a potential that he might have saved people’s lives by telling them what not to eat or what to eat.

“So to me he was more than just someone who was taken on board to show them around. He was actually, I think, a very strong confidante for Flinders.”

Bungaree did not forget his people, however.

According to Sydney Barani, while he was happy to help track escaped convicts, he “was also influential within his own Aboriginal community taking part in corroborees and ritual battles”, looking after his community by “selling or bartering fish”.

As Russian Captain Thaddeus Bellingshausen wrote, Bungaree “has always been noted for his kindness of heart, gentleness and other excellent qualities and has been of great service to the colony”, but also “often endangered his life in his efforts to keep the peace within his tribe”.

Despite the accolades from the Europeans, the racist undertones were never far away.

“The facetiousness of the sable chief, and the superiority of his mental endowments, over those of the generality of his race, obtained for him a more than ordinary share of regard from the white inhabitants of the colony,” the Sydney Gazette wrote in an article announcing his death in 1830.

Today, his legacy appears almost all but forgotten. There are statues to Flinders and even the cat Trim, but as yet, there are no statues to Bungaree recognising his role in the exploration of Australia.

“It breaks my heart that we, as Australians, don’t have a statue to Bungaree that celebrates an iconic figure and someone who actually assisted in building this continent and building our nation’s history,” Mr Janke said.

No doubt, with the discovery of Capt Flinders’ grave and the renewed interest in the Investigator, there are hopes this will soon change.

Bungaree Biography and Profile (Politicoscope / BBC / PWON / ADB)

[politicoscope]

Bungaree Biography and Profile

New Post has been published on https://www.politicoscope.com/bungaree-biography-and-profile/

Bungaree Biography and Profile

Bungaree born on 1775 – 24 November 1830, with a happy disposition and much intelligence, accompanied Flinders in the Investigator (1801-2) and was thus the first Aboriginal known to have circumnavigated Australia. The Ku-ring-gai man was a conspicuous figure in early Sydney, and one of the most commonly represented people in colonial imagery. Bungaree was a brilliant diplomat and despite language barriers could quickly ascertain the wishes of the coastal Aboriginal groups they encountered. Flinders therefore used him again on his most exploratory voyage, the circumnavigation of Australia in the HMS Investigator, from 1802 to 1803. It was on this expedition that much of Australia’s unknown coastline was mapped.

Many governors and colonels gave Bungaree discarded uniforms and a cocked hat; in this garb he lived and slept. He affected the walk and mannerisms of every governor from John Hunter to Sir Thomas Brisbane and perfectly imitated every conspicuous personality in Sydney. He spoke English well and was noted for his acute sense of humour. Although he had no tribal authority his adaptation to the life of the settlement, his talent for entertaining and his high standing with governors and officials established him as the leader of the township Aborigines. A pathetic remnant of their people, they spent their days giving exhibitions of boomerang throwing, doing odd jobs, and begging for bread, liquor, tobacco and cash: ‘Len’ it bread’ was Bungaree’s favoured approach.

Such facility for social performance made him an ideal mediator between the new settlers and indigenous inhabitants, and it was in the role of trusted diplomat that he accompanied Phillip Parker King to the coast of WA in 1817. In 1815 Governor Macquarie named him ‘Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’ and tried to establish him as a farmer, complete with white convict labourers, at George’s Head to the north of Sydney Harbour.

Bungaree

‘Kindness of heart’ The Investigator arrived back in Port Jackson in June 1803, having completed its circumnavigation of Australia but having failed to fully survey the entire coastline.

Back on land – where his height and penchant for wearing old military uniforms ensured he stood out – his knowledge and wit made him a popular figure with the colonisers.

On 31 January 1815 Governor Lachlan Macquarie reserved land and erected huts at Georges Head for Bungaree and his clan to ‘Settle and Cultivate’. Macquarie’s intention was to civilise all the Aboriginal people by first converting Bungaree to the ‘benefits’ of living a ‘civilised’ lifestyle and then use him as an example to other Aboriginal people. Also he hoped to keep them away from the British settlement with its temptations of alcohol and tobacco.

Bungaree – First Aboriginal Australian

Bungaree was given a fishing boat, clothing, seeds, stock and convict instructors and farming implements. Elizabeth Macquarie gave Bungaree a sow and piglets, a pair of Muscovy ducks and outfits for his first wife, Matora, and their daughter.

They were installed with a feast at which the governor decorated Bungaree with a brass plate inscribed ‘Bungaree: Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’, a completely fictitious title.

On Tuesday last, at an early hour, His Excellency the GOVERNOR and Mrs. MACQUARIE, accompanied by a large party of Ladies and Gentlemen, proceeded in boats down the Harbour to George’s Head.

The object of this excursion, we understand, was to form an establishment for a certain number of Natives who had shewn a desire to settle on some favourable spot of land, with a view to proceed to the cultivation of it. The ground assigned them for this purpose (the peninsula of George’s Head) appears to have been judiciously chosen, as well from the fertility of the soil as from its requiring little exertions of labour to clear and cultivate; added to which, it possesses a peculiar advantage of situation; from being nearly surrounded on all sides by the sea; thereby affording its new possessors the constant opportunity of pursuing their favorite occupation of fishing, which has always furnished the principal source of their subsistence.

On this occasion, sixteen of the Natives, with their wives and families were assembled, and His EXCELLENCY the GOVERNOR, in consideration of the general wish previously expressed by them, appointed Boongaree (who has been long known as one of the most friendly of this race, and well acquainted with our language), to be their Chief, at the same time presenting him with a badge distinguishing his quality as “Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe,” and the more effectually to promote the objects of this establishment, each of them was furnished with a full suit of slop clothing, together with a variety of useful articles and implements of husbandry, by which they would be enabled to proceed in the necessary pursuits of agriculture : – A boat (called the Boongaree), was likewise presented them for the purpose of fishing.

About noon, after the foregoing ceremony had been concluded, HIS EXCELLENCY and party returned to Sydney, having left the Natives with their Chief in possession of their newly as-signed settlement, evidently much pleased with it, and the kindness they experienced on the occasion.

Just like before, his knowledge proved invaluable.

“There are some wonderful anecdotes in Parker King’s journals of going ashore and asking Bungaree ‘can we eat this plant’? And Bungaree says, ‘I don’t know what the plant is, so maybe we should not eat it’,” John Paul Janke, the co-chair of the National NAIDOC committee, told ABC’s The World Today.

“In some cases, there’s a potential that he might have saved people’s lives by telling them what not to eat or what to eat.

“So to me he was more than just someone who was taken on board to show them around. He was actually, I think, a very strong confidante for Flinders.”

Bungaree did not forget his people, however.

According to Sydney Barani, while he was happy to help track escaped convicts, he “was also influential within his own Aboriginal community taking part in corroborees and ritual battles”, looking after his community by “selling or bartering fish”.

As Russian Captain Thaddeus Bellingshausen wrote, Bungaree “has always been noted for his kindness of heart, gentleness and other excellent qualities and has been of great service to the colony”, but also “often endangered his life in his efforts to keep the peace within his tribe”.

Despite the accolades from the Europeans, the racist undertones were never far away.

“The facetiousness of the sable chief, and the superiority of his mental endowments, over those of the generality of his race, obtained for him a more than ordinary share of regard from the white inhabitants of the colony,” the Sydney Gazette wrote in an article announcing his death in 1830.

Today, his legacy appears almost all but forgotten. There are statues to Flinders and even the cat Trim, but as yet, there are no statues to Bungaree recognising his role in the exploration of Australia.

“It breaks my heart that we, as Australians, don’t have a statue to Bungaree that celebrates an iconic figure and someone who actually assisted in building this continent and building our nation’s history,” Mr Janke said.

No doubt, with the discovery of Capt Flinders’ grave and the renewed interest in the Investigator, there are hopes this will soon change.

Bungaree Biography and Profile (Politicoscope / BBC / PWON / ADB)

[politicoscope]

Bungaree Biography and Profile

New Post has been published on https://www.politicoscope.com/bungaree-biography-and-profile/

Bungaree Biography and Profile

Bungaree born on 1775 – 24 November 1830, with a happy disposition and much intelligence, accompanied Flinders in the Investigator (1801-2) and was thus the first Aboriginal known to have circumnavigated Australia. The Ku-ring-gai man was a conspicuous figure in early Sydney, and one of the most commonly represented people in colonial imagery. Bungaree was a brilliant diplomat and despite language barriers could quickly ascertain the wishes of the coastal Aboriginal groups they encountered. Flinders therefore used him again on his most exploratory voyage, the circumnavigation of Australia in the HMS Investigator, from 1802 to 1803. It was on this expedition that much of Australia’s unknown coastline was mapped.

Many governors and colonels gave Bungaree discarded uniforms and a cocked hat; in this garb he lived and slept. He affected the walk and mannerisms of every governor from John Hunter to Sir Thomas Brisbane and perfectly imitated every conspicuous personality in Sydney. He spoke English well and was noted for his acute sense of humour. Although he had no tribal authority his adaptation to the life of the settlement, his talent for entertaining and his high standing with governors and officials established him as the leader of the township Aborigines. A pathetic remnant of their people, they spent their days giving exhibitions of boomerang throwing, doing odd jobs, and begging for bread, liquor, tobacco and cash: ‘Len’ it bread’ was Bungaree’s favoured approach.

Such facility for social performance made him an ideal mediator between the new settlers and indigenous inhabitants, and it was in the role of trusted diplomat that he accompanied Phillip Parker King to the coast of WA in 1817. In 1815 Governor Macquarie named him ‘Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’ and tried to establish him as a farmer, complete with white convict labourers, at George’s Head to the north of Sydney Harbour.

Bungaree

‘Kindness of heart’ The Investigator arrived back in Port Jackson in June 1803, having completed its circumnavigation of Australia but having failed to fully survey the entire coastline.

Back on land – where his height and penchant for wearing old military uniforms ensured he stood out – his knowledge and wit made him a popular figure with the colonisers.

On 31 January 1815 Governor Lachlan Macquarie reserved land and erected huts at Georges Head for Bungaree and his clan to ‘Settle and Cultivate’. Macquarie’s intention was to civilise all the Aboriginal people by first converting Bungaree to the ‘benefits’ of living a ‘civilised’ lifestyle and then use him as an example to other Aboriginal people. Also he hoped to keep them away from the British settlement with its temptations of alcohol and tobacco.

Bungaree – First Aboriginal Australian

Bungaree was given a fishing boat, clothing, seeds, stock and convict instructors and farming implements. Elizabeth Macquarie gave Bungaree a sow and piglets, a pair of Muscovy ducks and outfits for his first wife, Matora, and their daughter.

They were installed with a feast at which the governor decorated Bungaree with a brass plate inscribed ‘Bungaree: Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe’, a completely fictitious title.

On Tuesday last, at an early hour, His Excellency the GOVERNOR and Mrs. MACQUARIE, accompanied by a large party of Ladies and Gentlemen, proceeded in boats down the Harbour to George’s Head.

The object of this excursion, we understand, was to form an establishment for a certain number of Natives who had shewn a desire to settle on some favourable spot of land, with a view to proceed to the cultivation of it. The ground assigned them for this purpose (the peninsula of George’s Head) appears to have been judiciously chosen, as well from the fertility of the soil as from its requiring little exertions of labour to clear and cultivate; added to which, it possesses a peculiar advantage of situation; from being nearly surrounded on all sides by the sea; thereby affording its new possessors the constant opportunity of pursuing their favorite occupation of fishing, which has always furnished the principal source of their subsistence.

On this occasion, sixteen of the Natives, with their wives and families were assembled, and His EXCELLENCY the GOVERNOR, in consideration of the general wish previously expressed by them, appointed Boongaree (who has been long known as one of the most friendly of this race, and well acquainted with our language), to be their Chief, at the same time presenting him with a badge distinguishing his quality as “Chief of the Broken Bay Tribe,” and the more effectually to promote the objects of this establishment, each of them was furnished with a full suit of slop clothing, together with a variety of useful articles and implements of husbandry, by which they would be enabled to proceed in the necessary pursuits of agriculture : – A boat (called the Boongaree), was likewise presented them for the purpose of fishing.

About noon, after the foregoing ceremony had been concluded, HIS EXCELLENCY and party returned to Sydney, having left the Natives with their Chief in possession of their newly as-signed settlement, evidently much pleased with it, and the kindness they experienced on the occasion.

Just like before, his knowledge proved invaluable.

“There are some wonderful anecdotes in Parker King’s journals of going ashore and asking Bungaree ‘can we eat this plant’? And Bungaree says, ‘I don’t know what the plant is, so maybe we should not eat it’,” John Paul Janke, the co-chair of the National NAIDOC committee, told ABC’s The World Today.

“In some cases, there’s a potential that he might have saved people’s lives by telling them what not to eat or what to eat.

“So to me he was more than just someone who was taken on board to show them around. He was actually, I think, a very strong confidante for Flinders.”

Bungaree did not forget his people, however.

According to Sydney Barani, while he was happy to help track escaped convicts, he “was also influential within his own Aboriginal community taking part in corroborees and ritual battles”, looking after his community by “selling or bartering fish”.

As Russian Captain Thaddeus Bellingshausen wrote, Bungaree “has always been noted for his kindness of heart, gentleness and other excellent qualities and has been of great service to the colony”, but also “often endangered his life in his efforts to keep the peace within his tribe”.

Despite the accolades from the Europeans, the racist undertones were never far away.

“The facetiousness of the sable chief, and the superiority of his mental endowments, over those of the generality of his race, obtained for him a more than ordinary share of regard from the white inhabitants of the colony,” the Sydney Gazette wrote in an article announcing his death in 1830.

Today, his legacy appears almost all but forgotten. There are statues to Flinders and even the cat Trim, but as yet, there are no statues to Bungaree recognising his role in the exploration of Australia.

“It breaks my heart that we, as Australians, don’t have a statue to Bungaree that celebrates an iconic figure and someone who actually assisted in building this continent and building our nation’s history,” Mr Janke said.

No doubt, with the discovery of Capt Flinders’ grave and the renewed interest in the Investigator, there are hopes this will soon change.

Bungaree Biography and Profile (Politicoscope / BBC / PWON / ADB)