The unelected Human Rights Council is too politicised. Just as with the greyhound industry, it cannot be policed. It needs to be shut down. Only if the authorities can assure the government that they have learned how to behave lawfully, should it be reinstated. The HRC has assaulted free speech, targeted students anonymously, lied about children in detention and promoted bigotry. The Racial Discrimination Act needs to have section 18c rewritten or scrapped completely. It is incommensurate with a free democratic society. A cartoonist is being targeted with no less venom than terrorists pursuing those who write fiction, or depict Mohammed in cartoons. All the cartoonist did was portray an awful truth regarding youth dysfunction in Aboriginal society, and adult dysfunction too. In the cartoon, an Aboriginal policeman is seen talking to a father. And so on the day the cartoon was published, a person has complained they were offended racially. And so a dying man spends precious time defending himself in court. Or University students are denied work for life thanks to the bigot brand. The problem with the HRC is a subset of a wider malaise. The judiciary is biased.
I suggest Red Gum ward vote for David Daniel Ball. And, after asking your local councillor about their views on Trump, Same Sex Marriage and Greyhounds, try and find out what it is they will do to make garbage collection cheaper and more efficient. Ask how they will make business more profitable. Ask what they will do to help address crime. Ask what they will do to improve public transport issues locally.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh
Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet
That's the jingle bell rock
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh
Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet
That's the jingle bell
That's the jingle bell
That's the jingle...
David Daniel Ball calls himself the Conservative Voice.
I'm a teacher with three decades experience teaching math to high school kids.I also work with first graders and kids in between first grade and high school. I know the legends of why Hypatia's dad is remembered through his contribution to Math theory. And I know the legend of why followers of Godel had thought he had disproved God's existence.
I'm not a preacher, but I am a Christian who has written over 28 books all of which include some reference to my faith. Twelve blog books on world history and current affairs, detailing world events , births and marriages on each day of the year, organised by month. Twelve books on the background to and history of Bible Quotes. One Bible quote per day for a year. An intro to a science fiction series I'm planning, post apocalyptic cyber punk. An autobiography with short story collections.
I'm known in Australia for my failure as a whistleblower over the negligence death of a school boy. ...
Beethoven’s Last Blues (John’s Gospel in D-minor)
🎹 Turn the lights down low.
Grab your oldest headphones, your darkest room, and the heaviest heart you’ve got.
Play “Beethoven’s Last Blues” once—at the volume you’re scared to use.
Let it crawl inside the silence you carry.
When the final low D fades into nothing, don’t move.
Stay there in the dark until you feel something rise up that has no sound.
That’s the Word becoming flesh in you.
That’s joy breaking through deafness.
Now pass it on.
Send it to the one who’s lost their music.
Tell them: the conversation hasn’t ended.
The Ninth is still coming.
And it’s coming for them.
Play it loud enough for the deaf to hear.
Because joy was made to outrun silence.
#BeethovensLastBlues #TheWordBecameFlesh
Woke up this mornin’, world gone black as coal,
Ears full of silence, Lord, it done swallowed my soul.
Fingers still dancin’ on keys that don’t speak no more,
Hammer and string keep lyin’, like a lover walkin’...
Stand with the Blue: Honor Nicola Cotton, Learn from Redfern
Imagine a young officer, full of promise, gunned down in broad daylight—her only "crime" was stepping up to protect her community. That's the heartbreaking reality of Nicola Cotton, the 24-year-old New Orleans policewoman murdered in 2008 while trying to arrest a suspect. Eight weeks pregnant, she was shot 15 times with her own service weapon by a man with a history of severe mental illness who had been prematurely released from care. Her death wasn't just a loss for Louisiana; it exposed raw cracks in our systems—mental health failures, under-resourced patrols, and the relentless dangers officers face in high-risk neighborhoods.
Now fast-forward to Sydney's Redfern riots of 2004, half a world away. A 17-year-old Indigenous teen, TJ Hickey, dies in a tragic bike accident during what police called a routine patrol—but his community saw it as yet another flashpoint in a cycle of distrust, poverty, and ...
Back when Hillary was running for President, I re-wrote the lyrics to "Alice's Restaurant" and changed it to "Hillary's Restaurant". The refrain goes like this...
You'll believe anything you want
At Hillary's Restaurant
Walk right in, it's around the back
Keep your head low in case of sniper attack!
[That was a reference to Hillary making up a story about being under sniper attack at an airport in Bosnia.]
The rest of the song references her email servers, Vince Foster, the income tax, etc. @Garydubya ? on America's Untold Stories posted
I used that for prompts.
Hillary’s Restaurant
(Upbeat synth-pop bop, 128 BPM, glittery yet slightly ominous)
[Verse 1]
Neon sign flickers on a dead-end street
Past the alley where the secrets meet
No reservations, no cover charge
Just slide through the kitchen, try not to look too large
The waitress smiles with those shark-bright eyes
Says “Order anything, baby, truth is extra size”
[Pre-Chorus]
You can believe anything you ...