#SBG 17/01/21: Of dogs; and leading the blind.

Of dogs; and leading the blind. – AP Forum version.

I can think of no worse impediment than the loss of sight. Those brave folk who persevere, learn skills that most of us could not begin to grasp and live in a world without light, without reading and all the ‘other’ disadvantages the condition brings, deserve all our care and attention. As a cabinet maker and pilot the very thought of being deprived of sight is, truly, a frightening thought. A life without a dog in it is an equally bleak prospect. But to imagine a life without canine companionship and sight is is a thing which firmly belongs to Dante. Happily, there is a small, but very valuable comfort available; Guide dogs. If you can scare up a couple of spare dollars (tough times all around) you can donate the price of a beer to a worthy cause – HERE.

The point? Oh; well then, to brass tacks. Imagine yourself a know nothing journalist on a country rag. Then imagine you are suddenly not only a crown minister responsible for ‘transport’ but became the deputy prime minister of an independent nation. What sort of clue would you have about say running ‘matters aeronautical’. The short answer is non. Not a blind clue; groping in the dark to find the light switch. In essence – you are working in ‘the blind’; can’t see the traffic. Now, if you were genuinely ‘blind’ some kind soul could gift you a guide dog. A patiently, cleverly trained companion, dedicated to keeping your sorry arse out of the traffic and push bike fools. But what if the dog given was not trained in this manner? Just suppose you were deliberately placed in harms way, by a dog with an agenda; what then? 

Well, you end up in the same mire as our deputy PM and transport minister; blind, clueless and a heartbeat away from ending up under the parliamentary bus, led astray by a faithless, self serving hound, trained by those with a different agenda, That’s what.

So, we come to our witless wannabee from Wagga Wagga; unqualified, ignorant, arrogant, inflated; a walk up start for the ‘wrong’ guide dog. Yet, despite stepping in every murky puddle along the road to perdition; he refuses to trade in his faithless mutt for the real thing.

The minister, in the aviation industries eyes, is well tainted and proven useless. There exists a long list of fundamental errors, all of which could have been avoided had he not accepted the dog offered to lead him through the traffic and home safe. I note, with interest that an attempt at bridge building has been made. A flying visit to the heartland of his ‘Party’ and the exceptional woman running the current inquiry into the sad state of Australia’s aviation industry may, we hope, have straightened out his course – away from an almost guaranteed CFIT.

There is no way known that Crawford (as reported by Oz Flying) can be tolerated as the next DAS: full stop:: Endit. To allow such a travesty will not only spell out the demise of the Nationals as representing the ‘bush’ and ‘industry’ but the ‘party’ will have to carry both the shame and blame for destroying not only an essential industry; but of the aerodromes which support it. All the minister has to do is listen to ‘expert’ people like McDonald, Paggani, Hurst, McDermott, Cannane and all the other people who have diligently provided an avalanche of evidence that CASA is liability; constitutionally, legally, operationally, politically and; ultimately, in the ‘safety case’. Perhaps the incumbent could take a little time out from promoting a thing like SOAR and listen to and acknowledge the true experts of ‘aviation’ risk analysis. Will the ‘Nat’s wear the fall out when aviation flounders while thinking of paying a creature like Crawford $600,000 a year; with ‘our’ money. Bugger that for a game of soldiers (twice).

What? The very man at the thick end of Buckley, Angel Flight and his infamous condescension on the vexed question of ‘drones’? Our Elvis wannabee lookalike may think the ‘Jetsons’ are coming to Wagga in his life time. But; at the end of the shift – it will be the Saab from Rex which takes him home. Millions paid to ‘support’ CASA – while Buckley starves and Angel flight fights against lunacy; not to mention the many other ‘wrongs’ done, all  in the name of leading a crown minister astray and political ministerial arse covering. Bloody disgraceful – Crawford is an abomination which will (mark my words) come back to haunt the Nat’s. Bet on it.

Nearly done. Adding insult to injury, on an almost permanent basis (every report) is the ATSB. This crucial branch of aviation safety is fast becoming an international laughing stock. Domestically industry stopped reading and believing the dribble provided as an ‘independent’ analysis of accident. Count up the ‘fatal’ accidents reported over the last – say five years. Then take a close examination of the ‘reports’ published – not worth a squirt of cold piss. The latest puerile load of ‘sweet nothings’ is of yet another fatal, two men this time (grand total of how many deaths for the last two years) then; look closely at the Angel Flight track record. Then try, just try, to appoint Crawford as DAS. We will deluge the media with fact and sheet the blame home directly to the Nat’s and the man who began the rot – that fat boy from Queensland – whatshisname?. O’ Sofullofit – ayup, that’s ‘im.

Time methinks for the minister to piss; or, get off the pot.

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“Declare your jihad on thirteen enemies you cannot see -egoism, arrogance, conceit, selfishness, greed, lust, intolerance, anger, lying, cheating, gossiping and slandering. If you can master and destroy them, then you will be ready to fight the enemy you can see.” ― Al-Ghazzali

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Aye well; the old cat is thriving – well done science, medicine and money (don’t want to talk about vet’s bills). The BRB is back in action; I have eight square meters of exquisite ‘Cherry’ with which to make a dining table. My ever faithful mates are parked by the fridge door as their dinner time approaches. Ever wonder just who is slave and who master? I never did; for I know my place.

Selah – keep faith; aviation ain’t dead; just ‘resting’ between seasons.