Mr Fry-Kontaxis thinks me both diabolically clever to “rehash” “Israeli talking points” and to simultaneously repeat Hamas propaganda about their recent involvement at the Israel/Gaza barrier. He also detects my “long history of justifying the deaths of Arab victims of Israeli violence, and his repeated blame of those Arab victims.” How sad.
There is neither joy nor bright prospects from any of the recent violence and suffering in Gaza. The tragic loss of life in May naturally focuses attention on Australia’s policy concerning the Israel-Palestine conflict.
Good morning everyone. Thank you for joining this brunch with Professor Muhammad Yunus. Please join me in acknowledging the Gadigal people of the Eora nation – the traditional custodians of this land. We pay respect to elders, past and present, and we also extend our welcome to all indigenous people present.
Stephen Patrick Hutchins (22 April 1956 – 24 November 2017), “Steve”, “Hutch” or “Hutcho” to family and friends, former Labor Senator and transport union leader, hard-nosed factional warrior, in many ways typified the old NSW ALP right – tribal, loyal, fierce in response to social injustice, fully aware of the traditions of a minority within the broader national ALP, and with a great sense of humour.
Andrew Casey (25 March 1953-1 February 2018), refugee, journalist, unionist, trusted political adviser and strategist, community activist, was born Andris Katona (or Katona Andris, as Hungarians would say) in Budapest to Holocaust survivors, Istvan Katona, born 29 June 1924, and Agota Katona (née Halmi) 2 January 1925.
Photos from the wedding of the year, Karl Howard and Amanda Kate Easson at St Mary’s Cathedral, then at the Museum of Contemporary Arts on 19 May 2018.
Between words:
Suspended
Like a gull’s wing
Cupping the wind
Before the bird
As if in thought
Swoops and snatches
A morsel in
Casual vigour.
In warm December 1792
the Atlantic sails. Port Jackson
wails and Bennelong’s family,
Yemmerrawanne’s too,
watch ’til the ship’s a speck
beyond view.
The rumours, all true?
Was your character all surface?
Or were you a clear picture
of fountaining moods?
Green-blue sea of promise:
I bob to its surge,
waist then face submerged,
salty water up my nose,
lips a Plimsoll line,
toes a gimbal on sand
ready for the ocean.