Nah! Never Knew My Family!

Here's a reposting of a True Story I wrote about myself earlier this year, or so.

Never Knew My Family Edition

Millions of Aussies, white-an'-pearly as oft', have the sad family lineage in 'em, of days when rampaging British convicts were racing over the country for their masters or to claim a bit of dirt for themselves.

Mass rape and mass murder is the family history of more than could be counted.

As much because those who know now, have been made aware that the establishment, the pearly-white, superiorist British establishment - doing every possible thing to hide and deny their guilt, albeit 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 generations old - down to the local coppers, DO NOT want them, some local fella, to make something of “what's dead an' buried!”, if or when the fella finds he, or she, cannot ignore their family history, their history, and digs a bit to find how, who and where their Immortal, Noble, but most of all, the Spiritually Fully Enlightened Ancestors were both slaughtered, and any survivors dispossessed of their land, their Culture, their Wise and Beautiful Traditions, Customs, Family ties, etc.

So, many “quarter-casts” “eighth-casts” “sixteenth-casts” et al and on, being as tough, or, as busted, as they have become, go through life without any thought as to their past.

Most of 'em have drinking or “socializing” problems, etc. Most of them die young.

But, everyone knows, or, can be sure, that they, we, all, cry a painful cry, every now and then, when something explodes the emotions-chakra on hearing a story, perhaps like this one.

And, on the subject, but on a more cultural, and national perspective, the so-called “winners” in the Australian middle-to-upper classes, because they're all so busy-headed, and with all their spoilings and endless wealth, can “afford” do ignore any, but all, the aspects of such a personal and/or collective history, in their white and shiny ignorance, specific to both the Hebrew hard-edged colonist, and the false-religion-Christian ways, they fail dangerously, to know of the eternal importance of Respecting, and of being openly allowed to Respect, the Ancestors.

Only across the new, “modern” western worlds, do we see this failure to Honor the passed Peoples, even though they show and pay superficial Respect in such as military remembrance march days, and events.

As the Wise know, all time is connected.

So injustices committed even centuries ago, which are forgotten and are dishonored by say, the victors in a war, actually do still effect the present. And thus, the future.

Not as much, in the material realm. But in the higher, spiritual realms, which have the most powerful effects down here.

I can relate it to physics, and the eternal laws thereof, where, above the crude and rugged world of earth, or, of the world within our own minds, things still abide by universal laws, and on more subtle bases.

With there being no actual delineation between these in reality, fabricated divisions of past, present and future (good on yer, Jew!), Respect, of laws, go up to the things that our Aborigine had never lost sight nor understanding of, such that there are vitally important Rituals to follow, to keep the balance, across all dimensions.

So, while, down here, when someone, so arrogant, over-confident, y' know, yer av'rage white churchie-kid..., thinks they can lie to another, for their own advantage, or, insult them, and, say, get what they want, and quite incorrectly, illegally, in the subtle realms of Law, regarding the other as lesser than they regard themselves, not bother paying some form of “oblation”, some genuinely Respectable Gift, nor even voiced offering, to whomever they've wronged or gotten the advantage over or taken from, the failure, the non-Respect, is out of law, out of the balance the subtle world exists or used to exist on, before whitey-Jew floated off to fuck the planet.

As we know, in Australian Aborigine languages, as in innumerable other languages and thus Customs, once, until the “modern” expansionist era, Japanese for one, there were no words for “no”!

Not because they were simply too oppressed or afraid to say “no” to someone.

But because their Traditions were still attuned to the finest, subtle realms, which held to the Highest, most Divine, most Subtle Knowledge, understanding and Laws of the Universe.

No, is a negative, and if it is used for selfish, unwise reasons, the ramifications magnify on for, well..., perhaps forever, and reflect across all realms, eventually to one day, one era, return to their source.

Indeed, “no” may have it's roots in that most evil “selfishness”?

Chickens coming home to roost!”

So..., on the Rights of People who know they have tragic stories in their ancestry, and who are told, who are ordered by a SERIOUSLY RETARDED AND DYSFUNCTIONAL western elite establishment, that they must forget it, the establishment is damaging the subtle realm most of all, and is begging, in their ignorance, for a “come-back”, for a “backlash”, of huge proportions.

Not from any denied peoples. But from the Universe! From the Laws of the Universe!

The exact same repercussions and ramifications apply to the far more gross, far more serious crimes the expansionist dumb-cults of the north have committed across the globe, and still persist in their ignorant arrogance, the Lords-of-Sick mentality, today.

Most dangerous, are the bad land laws, we all suffer for and endure.

While the elite refuse to acknowledge the facts, simple true, laws, that Aborigine are the owners of lands not British or Eurapean, that everyone, Aborigine included, if-not most of all, for their Extant Spiritual Knowledge, Traditions and Balanced Ways, and also, that the untrue laws the invaders make their selfish trillions on, and which in-debt us all to the same amounts, are the most heinous breaking of the Universal laws, they race all of us, and beyond, to a most disgraceful end.

So, with a federal joke - er - election coming on the 14th September this year, were we Human Beings, Australians would force all our politicians.., Britain's too, to focus on going gang-busters to correct the bad laws.

However, as the current laws are so bad, so busted, there's not a lot anyone can do aside from SHUTTING DOWN ALL PARLIAMENTS, in conjunction with SHUTTING DOWN ALL WESTERN RELIGIONS in Australia, and rebuild the Legal Infrastructure from the bottom up!






Yeah! Everyone knows why!

Nah! Never Knew My Family
A two-person play, a monologue
written by JUST DEFIANCE
26th February 2013.

This dropped out of some synaptic-portal or another a few weeks ago, and I've since added to it, and cleaned it up a tad. In my head, it began with “Never knew me mum...” then went on from there.

Now, it seems it's one of those monologue plays, y' know, of a bloke, sitting alone, on stage, say, on a bar stool, slowly passing away the late night hours, talking to..., a female...., who seems to be sitting next to him, perhaps at a bar.

It's his broken, quiet, parochial way of telling her, or, the world, his story, and why he's sitting alone, at a bar, waiting for time to pass, for his time to reach it's conclusion.

Teeerribly sad, it is, that it really is my story.

For years, since finding out, as it's told in this, my families' - both sides really - tragic history, and, thus, mine, I've written tomes on it. But all of them fade for me, never satisfying my urge to put it in readable format, like a book, or such.

This, is really just another go at it. It pleases me somewhat though, that it's in more of a format that might be good as a stage play.

I wish, that I could socialize, so-as to meet and parlay with playwrites, I know of, and Respect. I guess “Arthur Miller” if the name's right, who wrote “The Death of a Salesman”, is passed-over now.

But “Baz Lohmann is it, who wrote that classic Aussie score “Ballroom Dancing” would be one I'd reckon could make it a go, on stage.

“George Miller”, who directed the “Mad Max” trilogy of movies?

Others are in mind, but there's not much point going on about them.

A small-time theatre writer-director, could as easily put some of the necessary emotion into the script and corrections, making it a “success” for a small stage, no doubt.

I expect, when I'm out of range - dead - some greedy lying rich white upclub churchie will plagiarize it and make fame and a killing for themselves.

That's what they've done to every viable idea I've had for the last 30, 40 years.

However, putting off those I'd want to, all the while knowing they'll do exactly that which I accuse them of, for their being as I describe them in the body of the text below, I might, one day, email this to a select few, “on-the-left” as-it-were, whom I respect, and who might be able to do it themselves, or pass it on to someone they know will do it Justice, without turning it into another Mel Gibson “Conspiracy Theory” spoof, of a bloke who was lied to lifelong, about who and what he is, or was supposed to be?

Nah! Never Knew My Family

Scene: Dim quiet, semi-smokey, back street bar.......!
Ambiance: very still, quiet.

Camera: looking at the back of a character sitting on a barstool,intentionally keeping him unidentifiable, next to an anonymous female, only her nearest half in camera view, with implications she's a “stunner”, tall, Bleck, dressed down a bit, casual, with an Intellect, and a calm “listener” disposition.

Scene begins, coming into a chat between them, that's already been going for a few minutes. Sound increases to audible with his 1st sentences.

Barman keeps casually busy. Serving out of frame customers, once in a while. It's a slow, late, rainy, Tuesday night.

“Music” - optional.

The “ -=- ” infer the female has asked a question, or prompted him to keep on with what he's thinking/saying.

Italics infer emphasis. The monologue context should tell the director how much, at each point.

Clearly, it's a laid-back voice, tired, near 60 years old, done it hard, and still doin' it, still fightin'.

Unable to get excited about much now. With the couple of points, that do excite him, he might raise his tone or pitch a little.

The laughs - “ Hahahahaha!” - might betray an inner child, who escapes the aging skin, now-and-thin, not so-much childish, but “happy-go-jolly!' as if all the woe has for one split second been forgotten. I do have a higher-pitched laugh, when that inner kid shows itself.

But most, it returns to an almost flat and boring tone. But, out of my ability, not so “flat” as to bore the audience.

Perhaps, way out of my reach, it could be told by a more mature speaker, who has the refinements of such a “war-weary soldier”, experienced, “honed”, in how to make a story interesting, not boring, not making the listener, suicidal, as anyone with social skills usually does possess, and with that ability to talk easy with the right amount of tonal variations and emphasis?

For the content, and it's importance, it's relevance, the male should be Aboriginal.

But, apart from their inimitable “dialect” “lingo” (why I call them “Bleck”), which would add a lot to how I'd like to hear it, and, as I'm undetectably a Bleck Fella - white, with freckles, and reddish hair - anyone could do it, I guess?

As I heard a Bleck Fella say once, “There's more white fellas wi' Bleck in 'em, than Bleck Fellas wi' whitey in 'em!” Which, doesn't really make sense! But, I unnerstand what he was sayin'!

Nah! Never Knew My Family

Male: Thought about getting' a tattoo t'day.

So I connected me phone to th' 'net, and searched for one, a tattoo artist.

Found one who looked good, lots of knowledge, about Bleck Fella tattoos.

So I'm gonna try an' think..., of what I'd like.


Never knew a family.

All I know now, as-in..., all that matters to me now, in family like...., is that I come from a mob of “Immortals”, as their killers called 'em.

Bleck Fellas. Gunai-Gurnai-Kurnai, from Gippsland, eastern Victoria.

½ a million of 'em! Wiped-out like they were vermin, by my white ancestor-invaders.

Somewhere between the 1870s and the 1900s.

Kept going out shooting any of 'em up 'til the 1930s, far as a few books I red, report.

Been there, some anthropologists say, at least 10,000 years!

Warrior Mob. But, HEY! All Aussie Aborigines were Warriors!

Their neighbors, the one's who were hoodwinked by the bloke who sorta founded Melbourne.., an' the British colony of Victoria, John Batman, told the Batman's mob, that the Gunai were always fierce-some fighters, protecting the mountains and coast down that way.

And, like..., strange thing? That's where the whiteys found huge piles of gold!

But the Bleck Fella, the Gurnai, like.., my Ancestors, never touched it.

Never used it in trade across the continent. Left it sittin' in the streams!

When whitey arrived, one o' the biggest gold rushes started! “Nuggets as big as a man's fist, lyin' in the creek beds!!!” reports came back t' Melbourne.

Me Grand-Dad told me that hisself!

He was a kid when the whites slaughtered his People. Saw it all! He lived in the place, as a traditional Bleck Fella!

But I was never allowed to know he was.

He seen the gold nuggets every day, in his country's streams!

Reckon they knew somethin'! Like..., Enlightened People don't fall for material things fo' 'appiness, aye?

But I reckon they did know it was precious!

Y' know? Like..., that it, come from the Mother, the Land, and belongs to the Land! Y' know?

So..., leave it where it is!

They knew, I figure, that it's all - well..., they called the world “The Dreaming!”..., aye? Gotto mean they knew there wasn't no value in stuff y' can't eat, or build skyscrapers with! Hahahaha!

Y' know? If y' livin' in peaceful country, away from idiots..., y' don' need anything outside o' good family, good tucker, safe nights and a campfire, aye?

But..., Gunai fought like the devil whenever any others, according to their ancient neighbors..., from the Port Phillip area, came ona their territ'ry!

Musta' known somethin'!

But HEY! Y' gotto go there to see why!

So, no-o! Once I found that stuff out, all the in-between stuff...., I tend'd t' forget. Y' know?

Like..., now..., I feel like I never knew me mother. Never knew me sister, or me brother.

They never mentioned to me, our Bleck Fella heritage. But.., they knew!

So now..., since I reviewed everythin' 'bout meself, I see it as if I jus' knew they was older than me, and that I wasn't anyone they wanted to know.

So I just went me own way..... or I thought it was “me own” way.

Knew a Fella when I was young.

Me Step Father, I found out a real longtime later! Always told, so thought, 'e was my...., genetic dad.

Fine Fella he was! Served in the army in the 2nd world war.

Became a Sergeant Major, in the “1st Australian Parachute Troop, Royal Australian Engineers”.

A Commando, he was. An' a Sar-Major to boot!

Tough bugger! He brought me up, really.

Mum..., always there.., but..., now..., it's like, she always got in the way! Kept dad and me apart, at loggerheads. Had me thinkin' I hated 'im!

But, years later.., found out how Honorable 'e was! Noble like!

Strict, Him! No messin' around, y'know?

Taught me lots of stuff 'bout stayin' sensible. Sane. Tough.

Remember seein' 'im after a lot o' years, when 'e was getting' on, 'bout 70 or 80.

'E was quiet then. Bright! But, y' could see, he still had that tough fire, that fibre in 'im!

I thought when I was young 'e was an unhappy bloke. Always arguin' wi' me mum.

Found out too late why!

But later, I'd see 'im laugh, or tell a joke! An' he'd almost piss 'imself laughin'!

An'...., y'could tell 'e was real happy inside. Which kinda made y'.., y' couldn' help, but laugh with 'im! Kinda infectious, aye?

Wish I'd known 'im better though?

'E taught me how t' ride motorbikes, aye!

Had an old .., like..., after his war spell, in th' 1940s, 'e courted mum, 'e told me once or twice, on a motorbike! An Ariel 500cc “Red Hunter” single pot.

Haha! Told me 'bout when 'e came back from the war, in West Australia, wi' 'is mates on bikes.

An' they'd go ridin' up the coast north of Perth - a bunch of 'em, searchin' for the local coppa, who also had an Ariel, but a big one - a “Square four” big 1000cc 4-cylinder one.

An' these Ariel's were English, y'know? Made in a cold climate. So some of 'em would get...., would overheat in Australia.

'Specially in WA, where it's always bloody hot, aye?

Anyway, hahahaha! Dad'd, I thought 'e was me dad, see, so I call 'im Dad..., but Dad'd tell me they'd..., the cops there had these big lugs of bikes, that 'ad four pots, four cylinders, but not like a car, all in line -

Yeah! They were in a “square” con-figuration. Air-cooled, like.

So.., in the west Australian desert heat, after while they'd.., the back two cylinders would overheat, and the rider'd have t' pullover an' wait for the motor to cool down!

Well, if you're goin' for a pleasant Sunday ride, tha's OK.

Just stop, 'ave a smoke, wait a bit an off you go again!

But Dad..., and 'is ex-army mates.., rascals they were, like most ex-army blokes, they'd go sniffin' for the cops, who'd be sittin' hidin' under a tree in the shade, waitin' for speedsters, then th' cop'd drop 'is fag, fire up th' beast, an' off he'd go chasin' 'em.

Those square fours went hard, aye! Get up t' the ton real fast! Best around in the 1940s, aye!

But, in th' heat, hahahaha, they'd over heat if the chase went on for too long....

hahaha! They'd 'ave t' stop!

So dad' an' is mates 'd find where the cops were, then go back a mile, and come flyin' passed the cops at y'know, 500 mile an hour!

Laughin' at the cop. Givin' 'im the finger, y'know!

He'd get real pissed-off o' course, fire up the squaffa, and give chase! Naturally!

But the lads'd jus' keep goin' flat chat, 90, 100 mile per hour, for 30 miles!

An' th' cop's bike'd over heat and he's hav' to stop!

So then..., me dad an' the lad's 'd come roarin' back the other way, laughin' at 'im again, an ' disappear back to Perth!

Hahaha! Bit of a rascal 'e was, I reckon?

'Til 'e met me mum...


Didn't know me real dad though. Irish he was.

Backdoor man, I think, chasing mum behind me Step-Dad's back.

But, 'cause I had t' find this out, like do a lot o' diggin' into the family's history's, 'cause no-one ever told me any of it...., now, feel like.., nah..., I never knew me family.


Aye? Yeah!

When I turned about 50, I discovered somethin' 'bout meself, though. Kept me busy an' intri-igued for, well.., to now.

Shockin' stuff! Sad too! But real shockin'!

To this day I'm still knocked off me axis by it.

So, I live in me ute, and keep.., don't socialize.

18 years now...

Bit sad I guess?

Had lots..., what I thought were friends when I was younger. But found out hard ways that they weren't that.

All of 'em.., everyone...! knew the things I was never told, 'bout meself.

When I was workin', in me late 30's I think..., a bunch of blokes, workmates, y' know..., treated me OK, then for some reason it changed.

How it's been all me life really!

Never had friends for long.

Always thought it was me, like, my personality, y'know?

Like..., I wasn't - I did have me problems..! But nothin' deadly!

Like, I didn't seem to be able to socialize like others, y'know?


But people were always happy to see me, and friendly, aye!


They, these blokes I was riding motorbikes as a courier with, had “contacts” in politics, and in the upper class, like, they were all churchie-boyzz an' gerlzz, which never bothered me! Private school graduates, y' know? Thought is was good being around blokes wi' good edications.....!

But, who.., y'know, had connections in politics, I didn't know at th' time, an' police, and even in ASIO, the secret police, who had a look into my past and found out - I guess this's how it come out - found out 'bout me heritage!

But, since I realized I've had “friends” who were ordered to befriend me, since school days, aye.., an' were actually part of some hidden group, like a big organization, elite mobs, from Britain.., those workmates were more likely bought-off an' told to dump me in th' shit. Ooop! Sorry girlie! Forget meself sometimes..!

So for reason's I'm still not real absolutely clear on - well - I do know now - but then..., then they stopped being friendly, and started something - like a defamation campaign - that took off with their rich clubby church school mates and like, once the word got 'round.

All-of-a-sudden..., I saw people followin' me? Takin' photos of me!

Cops started targeting me. Their police chopper - big jet-propelled monster - would fly real low over me top floor, like, only 2 floors, over my flat full tilt, real low, making the windows shake, like, totally deafening, sometimes, up to ten times a day. For weeks at a time! About '94, that was.

An' once I lost me business, to another mob, who were subverting it behind me back, and was forced homeless, I started just livin' in me car, and jus' drivin' round the country, y'know?

No-one wanted to know me anymore, so, I went for long drives - Alice Springs. Queensland, all round the place!

An' after a while, an' a few unexplained bashin's, I realized these gang of bikies were followin' me too!

From Melbourne to Alice!

Through country Victoria!

Up to Queensland again!


Couldn't figure it out?


Well...., I had t' have a look meself..., after about 10 years being chased around the country..., kept out of society..., getting' harassed and cursed and bashed.


Still stunned today! Even now, I wake up every day wishing I could kill meself, y'know?

Jus' ain't worth livin' now!

Everywhere I..., y' see, after I looked into what was goin' on, I found out I'm connected to some royal mobs, from ol-l-d England. Real wealthy bastards!

Sicko religious mobs, too. All connected 'cross Britain an' Europe.

And worst of all, I was born...., this is why I was born a bastard - t' be some king or such like!


Like powerful heroes out of old mythical tales and stuff, they were in violent times, in fightin' rich royal families and things, an' were born bastards, 'cause.., that creates torment in the family, a bad vibe, lies and cunning, and more lies..., y' know?

But.., all that rubbish in the family makes th' bastard child strong, like, strong, used to war, so to become a powerful warrior, and..., a shaman, a witch, y'know?


In my case, a witch king...., I figured out too late!


You know..., Jesus o' course? Well..., cutting through the stories 'bout 'im, he was a bastard too, aye?

I mean, I reckon he was a good bloke, aye!

But y'know the “virgin mother” stuff, ain't like it sounds, at all, aye?!

He was born to someone else! Another bloke! Out of wedlock! Or whatever it was back then?

So, he was....., well..., him an' that other high priest of mythology, “Merlin”, y'know? Of king Arthur and Camelot, et cet'ra!

According to th' stooories, y'know..., th' myths..., 'e was a bastard too, like, 'is mum 'ad im out a' wedlock!

Powerful too aye, 'e grew up to be the high priest of Camelot! So the story goes...?


'Nother drink ma'am?

Two more “nitrous oxides”, thanks barman!


So, I mention that Merlin fella's name, 'cause me Dad, me Step-Dad, 's s'posed to descend from the old “'enry the 8th”, king of England. 16th century.

An' 'enry, 'e was a “Tudor King” from the famous - I reckon they're INfamous, meself! Tudor kings. An' they, I found out, umm..., on the internet, yeah, can't always trust it, I know..., anyway, I reckon the site was a proper one, “Ancestry-dot-com”, or such, they came from the same family as a couple of kings “Arthur”!

HOHOHO! I thinks to meself?

6th century Wales, and..., 2nd century BC!

Still numb for it today!

Don't know how to deal with it.

Can't tell anyone. Think I'm just pure crazy, aye!?


An' th' family..., figured out they're being blackmailed over it all..., so they can't talk about it..., to me anyways!


Oooh! Tha's another dark side to it! That hurts like buggery - OUP! Bad choice o' words, there!

Sorry! Can't, don' wanna go into that part of the travesty!


So..., no, didn't know me mum, or...., I was told I had a sister an' a brother....., but don't think I ever knew 'em?

Remember one bloke who used to knock me around a lot, whenever he got close.

Vague though now, aye?

I was a kid, an' life - y'know..., we had a house an' everythin', an' I sorta remember sittin' at a dinner table, with other people.

But don't think I knew 'em?

Just remember that fella, me Step-Dad.

Honest fella 'e was? Always told me straight.

Thinkin' back, I shoulda seen...?

Sometimes 'e wanted t' tell me things, but 'e'd stop, unexplainably, an' put 'is head down, say nothin' for a bit, then..., like 'e was in deep thought, 'e'd shrug, let out a short laugh, an' change the subject, 'sif 'e was bein' told by a ghost or someone I couldn' see, that he couldn' tell me what 'e was gonna!

But 'e was always good to me.

Never shy of givin' me a fair whack over the back of th' head though! If I was bein' stupid or naughty, or somethin'!

The ol' “spare th' rod and spoil th' child”, aye!

But, well.. 'e had his problems, I think with his missus, me mum, y'know?

Get angry! Sheee-it! Argue! Sheee-it! Never seen 'im step down from a blue though, y'know?

Tough, 'e was! Real tough! Wish I knew 'im better?

Wish..., I knew 'im?

O.., yeah! This royalty thing...!

Well.., i'ss a long story, really.....!

Shouldn'a mentioned it, aye?

Once I start, ooow! It hurts too much, aye?


Nah! Too hard, girlie!

Bad stories, all of it.

Murder! Like..., me mum! Did in her grand-dad, y'know?

'E sprung 'er con-ceivin' me! Wi' that Irish bloke!

But, 'e wasn't her grand dad at all!

'E....., was one a' the huntin' party who slaughtered our Aborigine Ancestors!

OOOoow!?? Heart's starting t' hurt already, aye?

Tragic luvee. Tragic!

So..., I don't socialize anymore!

Jus' waitin' to die, really.


That Fella, me Dad, like, Step Dad, an' 'is army stuff? Made me hard too.

So, f' what I've found out 'bout meself, and about a whole lot of people who done my people over, y'know, about 1900 I figured, roughly, when me Gunai Ancestors were massacred.

I see I got a job t' do. Gettin' some Justice, for me Ancestors.

Me real Grandad, mum's side - watched it all, wi' 'is - siblings - y'know, of the Tribe, as a 5 or 6 year old, an' was kidnapped by the shooters - the gang, of.., Scots, “pioneers” they told us in school - ha! fuckin' inv - ooop? Sorry luvee!? Invaders aye? Stole everything. Kids too.

An' the 130 tons of gold they dug out of the hills!

Some a' that belongs to me, I reckon! As well, o' course to the descendents of the Gunai!

Only about 600 left they reckon!

Evil..., those “pioneers”, aye?

So.., them, an' their descendants who now say they own my Ancestor's country -

Corr! Darlin'.., Arr? Y' don' mind if I call ya' “darlin”, do y'?

.. if y' ever get the chance? Go down there, sweets! Gippsland!, The Victorian Alpine National Park. Up “Licola” way!

The soil, the dirt - is purple! Like - like, it's - well..., it's like y're in Heaven up there, in those hills. The rocks are red, Green o' course.., vegetation. But the dirt is this..., like..., out a' this world.

And the hills are ju-us-t divine! Aye? Mystical!

Easy t' see why me Ancestors were such a Fightin' Mob!


So, since the white rich kids - who conned the Hell's Angels to terrorize me - and who together stole everything from me, everything, but a car.., and exiled me, I don' have a reason to live..., really.

Other than studying in a real top school in me 30s and 40s, Philosophy.., y'know? Night school!

Taught me something about stickin' with it, and not toppin' y'self.

So.., for all that..., an' me dad's tough teachin', an' th' memories I'll never forget, 'til once I'm dead like..., of all the bast.... all th' people who done me over, who stole it all and left me without anything, an' the evil - people - who wiped out my old People, I'm determined to live as long as I can, and, once I drop off, I'll spend my eternity findin' their spirits, them in their next lives, an' y'know.... exact Justice.

Yep! I admit it! For meself, for what they stole from me, but mainly, up to the rich bastards in Britain, for what they did to the True Peoples of Australia. Gippsland. My Country. My People.


Yeah...! Lot of trouble aye? Longtime warring.., aye?

Take a..., well..., there ain't a woman could soooothe m' soul now. Too far down th' road I am.


Hell..., got nothing now. It's all gawn! Don't think I was that bad a bastard. Must a' been..., in me last lives though, I guess?

But..., what I know now, most of the pricks OOOP! Sorry..., most of the dooodes who done me down in this life, done me down because they were just too rich, an' that jus' makes 'em spoiled, selfish brats.

Anyone who's got more than 'em, 'specially in heritage, an' in being Honorable - like - “Honor” is not somethin' the rich brats of Australia have a lot of..., y' know? So when they see someone better 'an 'em, they try to bring 'em down to their lowness, aye?

Churchies. Always..., they're jealous!

Out o' spite! Just small-minded egomaniacs.

So..., whatever I'd done in me past lives, wasn't due this kind of rubbish.

Some people..., a lot of people..., are just really stupid, and do things to others, other good people, that they shouldn' do.

An'..., aye! This is what the law's about.

Not the crooked “Christian” laws we got now.

But True Laws!

You break them. Break the Ethical Laws, an' they'se really Spiritual Laws..., and you - gotto - pay!

Bleck Fella, hey! o' course, had these things sorted lo-o-o-ong time ago!

You have to do somethin' real bad to be sentenced to death!

But y'know! The ol' “spear in th' leg”, for most big crimes!

Walkin' around wi' a big gash through y' thigh..., that'd slow y' for a while!

Teach y' not to steal again!

Then there's the shame! Everyone knows, an' turn their backs on ya'! Leave ya to fend for y'self, aye! Wanderin' in th' deserts, like a lost Jew! Hahahaha!

An'.., hey! Tha's why t'day.., the bikers, the outlaws here, started..., or stopped shooting people dead!

Now, y' hear it in th' news..., all th' time!

A man was shot in the leg last night, in Sydney! Police believe it was bikie related, in a dispute between rival gangs.”

Heard a Bleck Elder.., like, an Aborigine Elder Women on radio once, talk about not killin'. 'Cause each of us gotta live out our life-course, like a destiny, a timeline or summit.

So, outside of a Wise court, I guess, if someone kills a bloke without proper reason, like, not in line with the Universal Law, they severe that fella's spiritual journey line, and, it upsets the cosmos, and his soul's destiny. 'Is path.

So 'e's gotta be born again, and start..., go through it all over...

Somethin' like that?


But, in this world..., all sorts a real bad stuff's goin' off all the time, aye!

An' a lot of it's against good people!

Not..., like..., I don't reckon people who jus' take take take and give nothing..., from their hearts, back..., jus' ignorin' the big issues, like..., “how heavy is ya' environment'l footprint type stuff, or.., that we really need a world revolushun..., an' instead jus' keep fiddlin' their tax an'.., get fat con-syoomin' junk.., y' know - big house - big car - fat, selfish, lazy kids - they ain't what I call “good” people.

Most of 'em are jus' parasites. Zombies! Sittin' on their backsides in front of their BIG screen teve, ignoring the people who're doin' it tough. Running away from getting' out there an' demandin' a more just world! Nah! They're piss-weak.., oop! Real useless people, methinks.

But..., 'cause soft -..., headed folks sit home and ignore the important issues, other genuinely good people get it in th' neck!

So some criminals are just too bad to jus' get a shot or a spear in th' leg, aye luvee!?

'Specially if it's stealing everything from good people!

Forcin' them to be stuck outta society and homeless..., for 20 years!

Jus' because a bunch of 'em are jealous of 'is family lines!?

Or.., 'cause unnerneath..., they know the humble blokes are better than them?

Better 'cause unnerneath, th' richies know the humble blokes are sane, and that they're mad as meat-axes!

Which is why they can't stop takin' everythin! Consume-consume-consume - everthin'!

CRAZEEEE-MINDZZZ!!!! Hahahahaha! ChURCHIE-boyzzz!!! Hahahahaha!

ZzzzzIINGG-brains! Hahahahaha! Sorry...? Gotto laugh at something's...!

Better laughin at the filthy rich ones, who're scum, I reckon.


So....., I don't like people much now.

Cheap, idiots, liars. Greedy. Rude. Arrogant. Just nutters now! Y'know?

So.., I guess I don' miss society now? From what I do see, it's gone mad lately anyway.

Governments are more evil!

Making bad laws.., forcing normal.., good people to be criminals, then jailing 'em.., for nothin'!?

Rich people steal all fair chances from the poor!

So.... I'll wait me time.

Reckon I got about 12 years left in me.

When I'm 70, if no-one gets me sooner, I reckon I'll find a nice big cliff, and a nice little bag o' weed. An' offff, I go!

Then..., I reckon, the funs gonna really start!

Out there! On “the other side”! In the ether! I'll start searchin'!



I know!

But..., Dad, me Step Dad, made me good, respecting Truth. Dignity. Honor. Rightmindedness. Intelligence!

He quietly like, taught me that being Intelligent was the most important thing a fella can be. Up there wi' being Honest, y' know? Hardly ever said so. But somehow, even when 'e wouldn' say anythin..., y' somehow picked up what 'e was sayin'! Y' know?

THINK MAN! THINK!” Ha! That stays in me memories of 'im!

Y' see somethin' wrong! Y' see if y' can fix it!

Like..., y' know! Y' don' jus'' rush in! Without weighin' it up 1st, aye!

Sometimes, things can't “be fixed”, like! Better lettin' 'em go 'til they break, or die. Like the Labor party! Hahahaha!

An' sometimes ya' make it worse, or make trouble for y'self, trouble y' can't fix, aye? If y' don' weigh it up first! “All things considered” I heard 'im say.

Sorta like the liars in religion, aye? Invent all sorts o' stories, outta desp'ration!

Lyin' to the flocks again and again until they fall down numb.., stupified, an' then, they hain't got a brain anymore, so believe anythin'! Tha's when th' preacher knows 'e's gotcha!

Y' know...? that works, for the preacher an' his mob, for a while.

But eventually...,! Eventually.., the mob wakes up! An' Oooo dear! Things really go off the rails then..., aye?


So I got no fear. Sounds tough, aye? But..., from what I've learned, over 50 years or so..., y' live good, an' next time, y're rewarded, with the stuff y' need, t' do what y' have t'.

An' clearly.., like..., I got a record, of fighting the good fights, ever'where I been, and so my place, my destiny.., is fighting for Justice.

Yeah! It can be real hard..., and real lonely.

But lonely is, that ol' “state of mind” thing, y'know?

Y' get bored or lonely when y' heads not right.

When it's not at peace with itself, when something or some spirit is running around in yer head, setting your thinkin' on fire - nonstop.

Like all those rich churchie boyzzz an' gerlzzz, aye?

ZzzzzIIING-Nuts! Hahahahaha!

An' if y' can hold back from doin' evil..., y' heads easy at peace.

Better t' go wi' not'in', than to lie to get rich, methinks!

But, aye? There's a whole life y' gotto consciously choose to follow, t' keep y' head in order, aye? So it don' go off th' rails, and get all crazy-like!

But the modern world runs away from that inside stuff, aye?

“ZzzzIING-brains!”..., I call 'em. Can't silence their minds! Always runnin' to somethin' out there!

Thinkingk thinkingk! Buzz buzz, where!? Who?! What? Get this! Get that! MORE MORE MORE!!! “Purpose, Mr Anderson!” Hahahahaha!

Mad fools, all of 'em!

'Xactly how the church hypnotizes 'em! Makin' 'em all puppets, doin' th' church's evil for them.

But..., see that's how th' warped culcha makes ya', DEFY it, at every turn!

Ha! Makes ya' a mis'rable sod, like me, aye?

But...., at least me mind ain't crazy.

It knows it doesn't have to worry all the time about whose gonna catch up with me.

Hahaha! Like the bast - ooop, like the bad guys who thought they could do a bloke down, and walk away scot-free!

I also know, that as many of them, will go crazy well before I find 'em again.

Jus' frettin' 'bout what they done in the past. And slowly going mad for seeing how noisy their heads are.

And..., frettin' about th' day I, or whoever else they short-changed, catches up wid 'em! Hyuk!

Or even jus' cause their minds are outta control anyway, so doin' bad stuff all the time, jus' makes it worse in they're head. It all adds up y'know?

Yeah - Acc-yoom-ulates..., and becomes just a totally crazy house in there!


But.., now, I just keep away from as many of 'em as I can.

Sit in th' forests. Play a guitar. Do some writin'. Bit o' computer art. Design stuff. Jus' for the fun of it really.


Don' like people now.

Wish I could drink more though!

An' a nice smoke -oooooohW! YUMM!

Do like bein' out-av-it!


But..., as soon as y' do, y' let down y' guard.

An' sure as eggs, th' pricks'll be onto ya. Sorry.


Yeah? Be nice to be able to really relax, like for all the time.

Without havin' to be on yer guard all th' time.


But..., I chose war. Or, me karma did! Me “destiny” or summit?

Fate”. Tha's another one.

An' bein' possess'd o' the head I got, like anyone I guess, I can see two sides t' things.

An' opp'sit t' “fate”, o course.., is “fortune”.

So livin' til I die, warrin' wi' the warped an' evil world, to a Real Warrior - not sayin' I am, like..., - actually, I'm more of a “keyboard warrior!” like the Great Anders called my type, - A! - A Norwegian Warrior! - But any Real Warrior, fightin' for what 'e's spent the 1st half of 'is life establishin' for certain as fact, so, fightin' for what really is Just, and Righteous - not like lots o' criminals who reckon they'se “OutlawsHA!, 'e goes to war knowin' 'is “karma” is cool, is OK., an' there-fore..., that death is only another step up, to a better life, next time.

So..., knowin' 'e's fightin' Righteous like, whatever comes after, is 'is “fortune”.

Tha's how I see it anyways...!


How's y' drink?


So war it's gonna be...., from now to the end of time, I reckon?

Learned late.., to never trust anyone.

You? Not a chance, girlie! Haha! Too good lookin'!

It's a crazy world, 'n' it's only gettin' crazier.

Women are at least as crazy as blokes! I reckon meself, a lot more!

So..., I keep one eye open, and expect everyone is gonna shit on me. Which, for who I am, mythologically or not, they do.

So.., fit or not... - NOT! - … I'm still waitin' each time someone comes close, when I'm in the bush like, alone, or in the damned shops, that someone's thinkin' shitful thoughts.

And..., most every time, afterwards, I find..., y' know, that “psychic trace”...., of evidence..., that someone's been stupid or juvenile or just plain insane.

So...., sorry again luvee...., but my motto, sorta, is “FUCK 'EM!”

An', as we haven't introduced ourselves yet, wi' me doin'' all the yabberin' - sorry 'bout that - yer a good list'ner, aye? Thang-you fer that!

But..., as we haven't introduced ourselves yet, I call meself “Just Defiance”.

Some people call me “Merlin”..... But that's a”SHSHSHSHSH!!??” Know what I me-e-e-an?

I wont ask you your name. Too dangerous for ya! The walls have ears, y' know? But believe me! I'd like t'!

Have a nice life darlin'! I'm off!

Yerr! Could do wi' a shower, too! Haha!

Thanks f' list'nin', an' f' lettin' me buy yer a few drinks!

Goo' night!

O? You.., can call me “Crazy”!

Don' care anymore....

Never knew me family, so..., don' 'ave a family name.

Just.... Defiance!

Brayakooloong Gunai Indigenous Outlaw

All Praise the Immortals!
All Praise the Warriors who have fallen
Fighting for a Just World!

from the Travelling 4x4 Tent of


Bleck - Green - Red
Wisdom - Intelligence - Honor