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At My Desk

Australia's psyche amounts to little more than a parochial footy club. It cries too readily "a fair go," exclaims too loudly "the lucky country."


Brandishing relic icons that seeded its identity - like a drug-wasted youth bartering father's war medals - this once-great nation descends from giant of social, industrial, and scientific innovation to greedy consuming clown in the bereft circus despoiling this planet.

Bondi Cigar is the ultimate metaphor of our ultimate icon - in this, a land that spurned the greatest opportunity.



Down Under

Travel in Asia, Pacific, Europe and the Americas reveals a affectionate admiration for the peoples and lifestyle of this great sunburnt country, this wide brown land.

Asians in particular regard us warmly, especially recalcitrant Muslim States to our north who accept our kindness and generosity with both awe and gratitude.

They view preemption nobly offered by our diminutively-revered former leader as that unique Australian blend of regional cooperation and derring-do.

Our Pacific neighbors, of whom we are proud paladins, play safely unmolested in our sunny watery back yard. The fuzzy wuzzy angels to our close north fondly consider us a rascally gang who altruistically saved their southern friends from another 40,000 years of stagnation.

To all strangers and foreign souls I extend the warm hand of welcome. And, too-long forgotten, particularly to those long-patient Territorians, and especially to our inland dwellers, those Arafura Pedestrians of Antiquity, our Native Australians.

Both our white outlanders and our indigenous tinted folk share with foreigners the misfortune of never having cherished the 'real Australia' - our sensuously skyward steely-glassed coastal cities fed by cascading combustion-powered rivers of commerce.

Girt by sea, this wide brown land black with coal, our wealth radiates around the globe to nations whose paucity of mere culture, education, and civilisation reflect back their envy .. which goes mostly over our heads, being deep within those loving excavations that pay for magical foreign-produced cargo cult goodies.

Obscenely sports obsessed being our badge of pride, a voratious public mind feasts on fast food of frenetic thronging presses of Press whose livelihoods depend upon screeching minutae of overpaid neanderthal derros with too much time on their talentless hands, unearned of such fabricated fame.

And, not least, this nation's grand sweep of creative intellectual fertility, that incubator of cultural and social promise - ethnic tribes of Sydney's great south-west, and the triple-mortgage trash of her far flung suburbs.



Cigar Award

The human mind is a clumsy and impetuous instrument. Nor is it fond of hard work. Most people find two .. [or] .. three supporting cases sufficient for a generalization.
Stuart Chase



Essay Not Dead

The Lonely Australian
A surprising number of Australians .. quietly while away their years of unrequited but dignified existence with a long, slow train of thought about thought itself. There are quite a few of us, you know, hiding away like sullen cockroaches in the dark .. " ponders Tim Jones.

Website Mirrors a Nation
No-one knows what another truly thinks, as with nations. Five-penny tour of the Australian psyche. Everything you hoped or feared is probably true.   

BondiCigar's Raison d'être?
Ignorance awash in this great southern land, citizens infuriatingly complacent - ugly if disturbed.  As ancestors did in stars, we seek understanding of the world - in particular, this parochial, flat, greedy little part of it called Australia.   

Oztralya FAQ
BondiCigar extends camaraderie to strangers peering curiously this way ... puzzling at Australia's enigmatic blend of lofty inclination lacking moral means.   

Dismal Science
What Carlyle derided 166 years ago is too awfully so. Economics threatens the fabric of civilization, our future on Earth. A motley collection of free-market pseudo-science in a world increasingly fabricated by lobbyists and press agents, this brobdingnagian lusus demands arrest.   



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