The Sunday Brunch Gazette.

From CASA Regional Manager to New Owner of APTA:-

Hi (new owner of APTA), I understand that Mr Buckley remains as APTA deputy HOO. This is no longer tenable with the comments that Mr Buckley is making publicly.

Oh my giddy Aunt!!!...sorry Aunt Pru not referring to you.

The HI sets the scene, Hi is a tad familiar, not Dear Sir, or Dear Mr/Ms........lack of respect? could be........ Best mate with the recipient? maybe. Arrogant disregard for protocol?....undoubtably. Hi is a bit touchy feely for me.

Where is the media for goodness sake?

This is a government employed bureaucrat directly trying to influence an Australian citizens employment rights and livelihood because they have been critical of a government agencies actions.

Many agree this is not just capricious, but diabolical. Embuggerence at its most venal.

"This is no longer tenable with the comments that Mr Buckley is making publicly."

In other words Mr Buckley is not prepared to accept US destroying his business and bankrupting him, and a few others (collateral damage), for no other reason than WE said so.

He chose to criticise US, therefore WE decree he is "persona non grata" and we will not allow him to participate in aviation again.

Oh and by the by this has nothing to do with safety, nor non compliance, we just didn't like his business model, which was only viable anyway because we buggered up our "reformed" regulations. We could not afford any light being shone on that cock up so Mr Buckley had to go. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and if anything praise us for our actions and all would have been well, but he had to go and complain, therefore the fault is his not ours, how dare he criticise US.

Where is the industry for goodness sake? Mr Buckleys experience is embuggerence on a grand scale, even by CAsA standards, yet nothing from industry. Why?

There has been much said in support of Mr Buckley via several anonymous blog sights, obviously by industry participants behind anonymous "handles," but formal complaint, not a lot. Why?

A letter sent to Mr Buckley by the CEO of CAsA illustrates why. The subtle implied threat, dissent will not be tolerated by the regulator, what we have done to Mr Buckley we can do to you, we can destroy you any time we like.

Mr Buckley is a lone individual. Who would be prepared to risk their life work? can't blame them I guess.

The question still remains, why would a CAsA official put into the open an attempt to subjugate and censor a dissenter?

Their subtle modus operandi is usually off the record phone calls to CP's or CEO's or foreign regulators that employing So and So may not be in their best interest.

At best this illustrates the arrogance of senior management belief that CAsA is untouchable, unaccountable and omnipotent.

Or it illustrate that CAsA senior management has bugger all control over what its minions do, until it's done, when  the do do hits the fan they frantically mobilise large quantities of Mr sheen in a vain attempt to polish the turd.

They keep employing industry rejects or unemployable incompetents, many with large chips on their shoulders with delusions of grandeur or of revenge, let them loose on the industry to wreak havoc, with no oversight, then expend vast resources to cover it up.

Think I'm joking?

Then ask the question.

Embuggerences over the years and there are many, well documented, were any of those involved prosecuted for breach of regulation?

If not why not? Thats the way the LAW is supposed to work isn't it?

No this couldn’t happen here in civilised Australia where the rule of law is enshrined in Constitution and Common Law and free speech is guaranteed.

A ministerial Christmas Carol.

[Image: bannerrrr.jpg]

Yes, yes; settle down – I know ‘tis early. But blame for the untimely reminder must lay at TOM’s feet. There we were quietly working away, when he whistles a snatch from a Carol; then laughed. I looked at his bench and there he was grinning – “Wuzz up” say’s I. “Just remembered a funny version of that” says he. “I shall render it”. So he did; hilarious (also ribald and unprintable). Once we’d stopped laughing, we set about ‘remodelling’ the ditty to be about our very own ‘Three Kings’ of aviation; it got to be ridiculous – but the theme struck a chord.

We Three Kings of Orient are, is self explanatory; we preferred “Kinks’ of peculiar orientation are, but couldn’t get the thing off the deck – and so the hours were whiled away. But the theme remained firmly stuck; had to be a way to parse the afternoon’s entertainment down to a shot at our Three Kings. (Which ain’t, by the way a winning hand). So we begin with the mildest of variations:-

“Bearing gifts we traverse afar,”

That line is very much open to interpretation. Gifts of kudos for our minister McDonaught? Or, perhaps, the lumber lifted from the last botched job, which he will have to fence to cover the pug marks of our three incompetents? The word ‘traverse’ is an interesting choice: [“2. move back and forth or sideways”].

When matched with ‘Afar’ the scene is set. There is no distance the three kings will not travel, in any direction, to avoid any sort of responsibility for the monstrous buggers muddle they have, collectively, created. Why should they? There’s a perfectly respectable minister to carry the can – when the crime is revealed.


One in a taxi,

The BRB had trouble deciding which one of the kings would travel by taxi. Close run thing, but in the end it was Halfwit they decided. The reasoning was clear; given his total lack of understanding of complex traffic patterns, round about being a particular problem, lane changing and especially road signs; creating traffic delays as he needs to stop and carefully read before proceeding. Then of course there is his trusty accountant, ride-along mate who can finesse a taxi fare into an acceptable return on any journey. Well all of that plus; they cannot afford a vehicle as the debt on the last one written off could not be met owing to the bill at the Never Tell Motel. Which is a story for another day.

One on a scooter pipping his hoooter:

Absolutely 100% agreement on this one. Had to be HVH Hood. No contest. What can one say more about the flamboyant parading of ‘safety’ in faery tale land. High Viz ‘waistcoat (cut to fit tightly’) rainbow striped crash hat and a hooter that won’t stop ‘pipping’ his own skills in ‘safety’ first. Often spotted with a pillion passenger; sometimes a diminutive, almost Gnome like figure clinging to the statistical analysis that mostly, journey’s end will be achieved. The other is a baby faced, skinny, gangly child who seems to ride like a princess; aloof, unruffled and so very superior to mortal care of safety, sits back and enjoys the Scooter ride; immune to any and all danger of landing on it’s arse in any event. Aye, the scooter hooter pipping crowd are immune from road kill statistics; after all they wrote ‘em. 

and, one in a motor car.

Which brings us to item last. The one in the motor car. Well, the BRB crew only had three options; so; St Commode got the vote. The man in the Com Car. Well, why not eh? What need has this god like creature to travel by public transport – the golf bag alone (must travel equipment) is nothing more than a nuisance on a bus. Schedule is important and appearances must be maintained. What’s the point in gaining the top job when you have to walk past the scene of the crime. No; no, better to arrive crisp and clean just after morning tea; do the signing required; brief the ministers puppet master on the dosage, and be at the club to ‘T’ off in the right circle of mandarins. What could possibly be more important? No, public transport for this immaculate is out of the question. The very idea of even being touched by the unwashed; or, spoken to by the unshriven is beyond the pale. And why not eh? When you have a minister by the scrotum, are banking half a mill a year and have no responsibility which can be brought to task; why not settle back in the luxury vehicle and simply enjoy the ride.

They didn’t get very far.

Aye. Indeed, we do have "We three kings; untouchables are; etc.

There, that’s that itch scratched. All rubbish of course; our three kings are highly qualified, caring, safety oriented doyens of aviation administration and would lay down their very life to ensure that aviation is as ‘safe’ as possible. All that’s left wonder is just who, of all, is the ‘safest’. The minister must be so very happy, to have all this excellence surrounding his tenuous tenure...............

Man’s work to do today; the bag comes out of it’s cupboard (again) – the dogs still ask ‘can we not come’; knowing full well the answer. I must venture alone into a night sky; comforted by the protection of the most complex, convoluted, insane, rule set on the face of this planet. Safe in the knowledge that if I bugger it up, criminal charges await. Then I must work with an Air traffic system designed by a Halfwit. But, no matter; I know full well that should I crash and burn, HVH will be there (suitably attired, wind swept and interesting)  to personally  examine the reasons and wreckage: the why and the how, just to prevent it ever happening again. My family may rest easy, knowing that I and my passengers are so very well protected. Oh, I’m just so happy – I could wet myself.

O world! O life! O time!
On whose last steps I climb,
Trembling at that where I had stood before;
When will return the glory of your prime?
No more—Oh, never more!

Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight;
Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar,
Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight
No more—Oh, never more!


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