“A third of population tend to corrupt. The rest have no money.”
Of the Minister's Chamber Pot.
A rare event; not often entered: mostly due to a lack of interest. However, every once a while, there is a ministerial need to make; at very least, a 'show' of emptying the thing. Even if just to reduce the stench of incompetence, arrogance and the unholy leavings of unbridled, unaccountable power, corrupted by lack of adult supervision. The latter being the most odious. Baksheesh...Pilots, air operators (and others), world wide: know and understand the rules under which the way of this very democratic, open, honest corruption works. The ancient ritual of 'Baksheesh' be it a 'tip' or donation (to a worthy cause – of course) has kept underpaid public officials above the breadline and helped to keep the wheels turning smoothly. An ancient, venerable system, one in which anyone with the 'good oil' can assist in greasing the wheels.
“When I go to hell, I mean to carry a bribe: for look you, good gifts evermore make way for the worst persons.
But, what of those who's income and security is well above that to which an ordinary human being may aspire and have little need of 'inspiration'. Those who are literally, legally and morally untouchable? Those who can, with benefit of full, compliant ministerial distance simply do whatever pleases 'em best – irrespective – and getaway not only Scot free, but actually add bonus, internal kudos and a ministerial blind eye (and occasional 'well done') to their annual haul. They have no need or even use for 'appeal' let alone the six pack of 'thank you; or donation to the RSCPA on their behalf. So, what course is open to the 'honest' citizen to 'move the mountain'? Short answer – there simply ain't one.
“I can’t do with mountains at close quarters – they are always in the way, and they are so stupid, never moving and never doing anything but obtrude themselves.”
Chronic, inherited Ministerial Anosmia may well serve for the short term tenure. It has been through many iterations now, a good servant to many ministers; and, along with the rose tinted glasses, variable volume hearing aid and cynical, cleverly drafted abrogation of any and all responsibility to industry or travelling public; then why should a Minister even consider emptying the reeking aviation chamber pot?
“Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organised conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.”
The current minister is lacking a little more than the good sense to smell the political breeze. Any notion that the agency troops will collectively fall on their swords to save her is but a Midsummer's Night dream. The list of incoming potential horror stories – in a legal and (dare I say ultimate responsibility)is a long one. I will only reiterate the core elements here as a courtesy to a minister new to the job. Madam; your last line of defence, the ATSB is devolving from an international joke to pariah. In secundus, the Air Traffic Control system is almost at a point where a serious mid-air collision has become an expectation rather than a remote (long odds) probability. The 'governance' of civil aviation is so deeply mired in what is probably the most legally complex, pointless, counterproductive, expensive, risible mess as to be unfathomable by nations which have sensible, gold standard legislation and a productive, revenue generating industry.
“No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from.”
So. Tip out that pot before the foul mess contained be upended and ruin the shag pile carpet in the executive dunny. Someone has to 'get a grip' here before we all end up covered in the proverbial...
“No! Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.'
Aye well; my erstwhile apprentice finished his pair of saw horses – in the 'classic' style – good effort – considering. Thing is, he may have learned to construct and execute a complex joint; but – the real lessons were to sharpen both chisel and plane; those lessons he will keep forever; basic essentials, he never realised that those were the lessons I needed him to learn. Nope; you cannot roller skate in a Buffalo heard. No matter – away dogs! - mud and rain to play in. They do, indeed, know how to turn a cold, wet muddy night into a 'fiesta' of fun.
Selah.-.
Of the Minister's Chamber Pot.
A rare event; not often entered: mostly due to a lack of interest. However, every once a while, there is a ministerial need to make; at very least, a 'show' of emptying the thing. Even if just to reduce the stench of incompetence, arrogance and the unholy leavings of unbridled, unaccountable power, corrupted by lack of adult supervision. The latter being the most odious. Baksheesh...Pilots, air operators (and others), world wide: know and understand the rules under which the way of this very democratic, open, honest corruption works. The ancient ritual of 'Baksheesh' be it a 'tip' or donation (to a worthy cause – of course) has kept underpaid public officials above the breadline and helped to keep the wheels turning smoothly. An ancient, venerable system, one in which anyone with the 'good oil' can assist in greasing the wheels.
“When I go to hell, I mean to carry a bribe: for look you, good gifts evermore make way for the worst persons.
But, what of those who's income and security is well above that to which an ordinary human being may aspire and have little need of 'inspiration'. Those who are literally, legally and morally untouchable? Those who can, with benefit of full, compliant ministerial distance simply do whatever pleases 'em best – irrespective – and getaway not only Scot free, but actually add bonus, internal kudos and a ministerial blind eye (and occasional 'well done') to their annual haul. They have no need or even use for 'appeal' let alone the six pack of 'thank you; or donation to the RSCPA on their behalf. So, what course is open to the 'honest' citizen to 'move the mountain'? Short answer – there simply ain't one.
“I can’t do with mountains at close quarters – they are always in the way, and they are so stupid, never moving and never doing anything but obtrude themselves.”
Chronic, inherited Ministerial Anosmia may well serve for the short term tenure. It has been through many iterations now, a good servant to many ministers; and, along with the rose tinted glasses, variable volume hearing aid and cynical, cleverly drafted abrogation of any and all responsibility to industry or travelling public; then why should a Minister even consider emptying the reeking aviation chamber pot?
“Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organised conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.”
The current minister is lacking a little more than the good sense to smell the political breeze. Any notion that the agency troops will collectively fall on their swords to save her is but a Midsummer's Night dream. The list of incoming potential horror stories – in a legal and (dare I say ultimate responsibility)is a long one. I will only reiterate the core elements here as a courtesy to a minister new to the job. Madam; your last line of defence, the ATSB is devolving from an international joke to pariah. In secundus, the Air Traffic Control system is almost at a point where a serious mid-air collision has become an expectation rather than a remote (long odds) probability. The 'governance' of civil aviation is so deeply mired in what is probably the most legally complex, pointless, counterproductive, expensive, risible mess as to be unfathomable by nations which have sensible, gold standard legislation and a productive, revenue generating industry.
“No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from.”
So. Tip out that pot before the foul mess contained be upended and ruin the shag pile carpet in the executive dunny. Someone has to 'get a grip' here before we all end up covered in the proverbial...
“No! Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.'
Aye well; my erstwhile apprentice finished his pair of saw horses – in the 'classic' style – good effort – considering. Thing is, he may have learned to construct and execute a complex joint; but – the real lessons were to sharpen both chisel and plane; those lessons he will keep forever; basic essentials, he never realised that those were the lessons I needed him to learn. Nope; you cannot roller skate in a Buffalo heard. No matter – away dogs! - mud and rain to play in. They do, indeed, know how to turn a cold, wet muddy night into a 'fiesta' of fun.
Selah.-.