St Jude – rides again. – AP Forum version
Aye, the Apostle; patron Saint of desperate cases and the odd ‘lost cause’ is alleged to have the following printed on his calling card:-
“In accordance with his surname, Thaddeus, the amiable or loving, he will show himself most willing to give help.”
I’d bet most are thinking – the fool is going to invoke the help of the gods to ‘sort’ the pickle Australian aviation has landed in – Wrong; not at all. Nope, if anyone needs extraterrestrial assistance it is the CASA itself. Slowly, industry is grasping the notion that united and singing from the same hymn book (keeping in context) the songs writ decades past is a bloody good idea. The narrative line has not changed a jot in all that time; in fact it has crystallised into a clear picture; now fully supported by history and undeniable ‘proof of theory’ – in Spades; redoubled.
“By Fortune’s adverse buffets overborne.
To solitude I fled, to wilds forlorn,
And not in utter loneliness to live,
Myself at last did to the Devil give!” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust
It will be the CASA on bended knee; unshriven and penitent who must now look for some form of divine intervention; before it implodes and leaves an unbelievable mess on the ministers best Persian rug. I allude to the Devil’s deal; a Faustian bargain; or, to give it it’s real title – ‘the Illich Legacy’. Sigma 3, 99.9% safe conviction rules, fully backed by unconstitutional liberties, unlimited funds and a battle which created 600 admin and legal staff to manage 200 ‘operational’ staff. The first war was won by ‘legal’. Operations, in the early days, tended to hold the legal Eagles, HR and the associated clap-trap in little regard. Slowly, but inevitably, the old guard of CASA officers who could actually fly an aircraft and knew their business shuffled off stage; to be replaced with the HR selected ‘preferred’ physiological profile. And, why not – airlines do it – a preferred type – unlikely to cause ‘ripples’ and etc.. Well, “As a man sows, so shall he reap”. Even ‘the preferred type’ have had a guts full of Crawford’s dictates; as Spence, looking even more like a stunned sheep than usual, awaits her masters instructions. What a ducking shambles Barnaby; you know it and we know it.
“Things without all remedy should be without regard: what’s done is done.”― William Shakespeare, Macbeth
There are two simple remedies; which, applied simultaneously, could prevent the inevitable international embarrassment and humiliation of the current situation devolving into the irredeemable. Easy enough to do, just takes a pair of ears and a brain larger than a Grasshoppers. To wit: draft a ministerial Statement of Expectations (SoE) instructing the lunatic fringe to return to ICAO compliance by adopting the NZ regulatory suite (instant applause) and then; dare the Devil. Bring all ex CASA resignations into a closed Senate inquiry (you have one running now which could do it) and ‘hear’ what they have to say. We have, lots of ’em will talk over a beer; but without ‘protection’ in front of a Senate panel – they may need a little more incentive than ‘doing the right thing’. Until the true story of what CASA does, from the ‘horses mouth’ is rammed down the throat of bipartinsane dereliction of sworn duty to this nation -then despite the best industry case sweet Fanny Adams will change.
“If a grasshopper tries to fight a lawnmower, one may admire his courage but not his judgement.” ― Robert A. Heinlein, Farnham’s Freehold
This is graphically and unequivocally demonstrated by the current ‘inquiry’ being run by Mistress McDolittle. Take a look at the recording of the Phil Hurst interview; take a bucket with you though; you will need it. Two years long and a complete waste of time, money, effort and patience. There are thirty years of exactly the same ‘evidence’ being presented; the CASA chickens are not home to roost; they have taken over the kitchen and pooping everywhere – the experiment has been an expensive failure and the large McDolittle nostrils can sniff this – but chooses to obfuscate, prevaricate and act like the lowest gutter politician in the land. A great chance lost through politics and purblind ignorance. Shame, shame, shame. Two years a million bucks – for that last Estimates session. McDolittle should fold her tent and just bugger off taking her report and her mate Spence with her. Hell’s bells, our BRB troops have already drafted her report, there’s a comp running for the nearest, word perfect version. Save a lot of time, trouble and money if that 24 month long waste of time just stopped; save the buckets a beating.
It is so simple for the minister to just tell CASA what he ‘expects’ – he has the gormless Spence panting to do his bidding – for she is incapable of independent action and has allowed a creature like Crawford to call the shots, do the talking and has, single handedly, brought CASA to the brink of implosion. Aye; here’s another fine bipartinsane duplicitous mess you’ve got us into. Fix it. FCOL..just get it done.
Aye well; much to consider this week – 1700 ICAO airspace differences for foreign pilots to digest if they are to operate ‘legally’; airspace stripped of assets on a promise of ‘Big Sky’ and ADSB solving all the problems; for a huge price, as yet to be delivered; the list published this week of cock-ups – alone is enough to make a stone idol weep; add the McDolittle reverse gear and there’s not too much joy to add to the Covid lock-down blues – etc….Perhaps next week we can look at cluster ducks and mega cock-ups – just for a laugh or two.
Early Spring here; funny time of the year; hot almost summer temperature – flowers waking, birds at it, etc, but the battle of the seasons is not done just yet. Tonight the stable doors are wide open, animals parked where the breeze is best and yet there is snow forecast on the high ground next week as the temperature is to return to winter’s realms. ‘T’ shirt tonight – big jacket Monday. The stove is ready to go; I shall miss the winter, lamps lit early, stove glowing red, the smell of wood smoke on the breeze, frost crunching under warm boots and the cat’s antics – shoving a fifty kilo dog into a comfortable position for her comfort. Salad not baked potatoes. Even the timber I use senses the changes; still attuned to the world we live in. Hope springs eternal – but not only in the human breast. Right – I know – back to my knitting.
Live long and prosper.