Friday night walk home with Kipling.
Thoughts, on the way home: solo flight.
You can talk of gin and beers
But when you’ve got great big ears
A mouth to match and All-the–shot-it.
But when it comes to slaughter; you do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im what’s got it.
Kipling – slightly paraphrased (mea culpa). But it all fits rather neatly; don’t it?
The question is, just who is Carmody – now? You can, I hope, see my problem. Where does this man fit? Back in the day, he was a loyal lieutenant of a reform DAS who did not do too bad a job, gods know, he tried. However, when the unseen push came to shove, where was this then 2IC; this now great new advocate for aviation? Did he monitor the drums, feel the vibes – of course he did. Did he warn the reformist DAS that there was a serious move, by the Blackhats, to un-seat the Reformist? That question has never, ever, been answered. Carmody prospered and flourished – within government circles; that is beyond reasonable doubt. But what of his ‘fearless leader’? Did he manage to ‘prosper’ and gain weight at the government tit or was he forced to rely on his own native wit, courage, qualification and ingenuity to earn an equivalent crust?
For me, the poignancy in the Kipling ‘song’ of Gunga Din speaks of loyalty, honesty, a diligence to duty – as tasked: and, despite the battle going on; the ability of one, insignificant man to make a difference to another.
'E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean. 70
'E put me safe inside,
An' just before 'e died:
"I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din.
So I'll meet 'im later on
In the place where 'e is gone— 75
Where it's always double drill and no canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
Givin' drink to pore damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din!
Now, the reformist DAS is gone, victim of the dark forces. Who is Carmody, what is he?
No doubt time, as always, will tell the tale. Will ‘aviation’ “get a swig in hell”; or just swing? Must we once again go through the try and test motions – only to be bitterly disappointed; once again. Lets face it; McComic was a total, irredeemable duck up. The flash, two faced jet jock was a total disaster. Now we have, without consultation or consent ‘Wing-nut’ running our lives; without a shadow of apology, a soupcon of remorse; or, even a reason we may yet be persuaded to believe, as to why he was ‘elevated’. Actions have always spoken more than words. Talk is cheap; in fact, there is so much of it about, even at the right price, it is almost valueless: without action supporting the words. Caretaker does not DAS make. There are many wrongs to make right in the kingdom of Wingnut.
Aye, ‘tis indeed a 'Genius' fueled twiddle (blame P7); I may have even got a little lost between bar and keyboard. But; and make no mistake about it. If this bugger wants the job and is ‘fair-dinkum’ and wants to continue the great work his ‘boss’ began; now is as good a time as ever. In fact, it may be the only time available to undo the wrongs, before the aviation clock simply runs out of time. I’ll walk with Kipling a while longer, in the hope that ‘Wingnut’ fully understands the last stanzas of Kipling’s song
Din! Din! Din! 80
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Selah.
Thoughts, on the way home: solo flight.
You can talk of gin and beers
But when you’ve got great big ears
A mouth to match and All-the–shot-it.
But when it comes to slaughter; you do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im what’s got it.
Kipling – slightly paraphrased (mea culpa). But it all fits rather neatly; don’t it?
The question is, just who is Carmody – now? You can, I hope, see my problem. Where does this man fit? Back in the day, he was a loyal lieutenant of a reform DAS who did not do too bad a job, gods know, he tried. However, when the unseen push came to shove, where was this then 2IC; this now great new advocate for aviation? Did he monitor the drums, feel the vibes – of course he did. Did he warn the reformist DAS that there was a serious move, by the Blackhats, to un-seat the Reformist? That question has never, ever, been answered. Carmody prospered and flourished – within government circles; that is beyond reasonable doubt. But what of his ‘fearless leader’? Did he manage to ‘prosper’ and gain weight at the government tit or was he forced to rely on his own native wit, courage, qualification and ingenuity to earn an equivalent crust?
For me, the poignancy in the Kipling ‘song’ of Gunga Din speaks of loyalty, honesty, a diligence to duty – as tasked: and, despite the battle going on; the ability of one, insignificant man to make a difference to another.
'E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean. 70
'E put me safe inside,
An' just before 'e died:
"I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din.
So I'll meet 'im later on
In the place where 'e is gone— 75
Where it's always double drill and no canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
Givin' drink to pore damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din!
Now, the reformist DAS is gone, victim of the dark forces. Who is Carmody, what is he?
No doubt time, as always, will tell the tale. Will ‘aviation’ “get a swig in hell”; or just swing? Must we once again go through the try and test motions – only to be bitterly disappointed; once again. Lets face it; McComic was a total, irredeemable duck up. The flash, two faced jet jock was a total disaster. Now we have, without consultation or consent ‘Wing-nut’ running our lives; without a shadow of apology, a soupcon of remorse; or, even a reason we may yet be persuaded to believe, as to why he was ‘elevated’. Actions have always spoken more than words. Talk is cheap; in fact, there is so much of it about, even at the right price, it is almost valueless: without action supporting the words. Caretaker does not DAS make. There are many wrongs to make right in the kingdom of Wingnut.
Aye, ‘tis indeed a 'Genius' fueled twiddle (blame P7); I may have even got a little lost between bar and keyboard. But; and make no mistake about it. If this bugger wants the job and is ‘fair-dinkum’ and wants to continue the great work his ‘boss’ began; now is as good a time as ever. In fact, it may be the only time available to undo the wrongs, before the aviation clock simply runs out of time. I’ll walk with Kipling a while longer, in the hope that ‘Wingnut’ fully understands the last stanzas of Kipling’s song
Din! Din! Din! 80
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Selah.