Mainstream Australia has erroneous concepts of the race ‘found’ here 250 years ago. They were not savages, nor heathens as much as Colonial explorers would like to think in justifying land acquisition and imprisonment of that long-lived, hardy adaptive race. Here are two  great books that prove such if one keeps an open mind… https://www.amazon.com.au/Dark-Emu-Aboriginal-Australia-Agriculture/dp/1921248017/ref=asc_df_1921248017/?tag=googleshopdsk-22&linkCode=df0&hvadid=341774332261&hvpos=1o2&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4401842016528783379&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=2036&hvtargid=pla-674231458763&psc=1
Mainstream Australia has erroneous concepts of the race ‘found’ here 250 years ago. They were not savages, nor heathens as much as Colonial explorers would like to think in justifying land acquisition and imprisonment of that long-lived, hardy adaptive race. Here are two  great books that prove such if one keeps an open mind… https://www.allenandunwin.com/browse/books/general-books/history/The-Biggest-Estate-on-Earth-Bill-Gammage-9781743311325
Who knows where a story’s journey – formed out of a mix of fact & imagination – will lead us along its curious, unique life-time? From eye to eye, hand to hand, mind to mind p’rap? The Fethafoot chronicle ‘featuring’ the mysterious disappearance of said explorer; a man held to be as naturally loving, nay – living in worship of the holistic Sacred, as with an ‘indigenous’ child taught to listen, to hear, and see such wonderous lessons daily: a thoughtful humble representative of those oft, far-too-clever for themselves language-creatures.
Even my initial shallow research – to paint another vivid tale of our anc-Au [aboriginal/indigenous] people; enhanced by years of research in teaching: “Australian Aboriginal History & Culture #101” – found a unique, atypical individual, living outside his time & space: a human-being that put scientific curiosity and awe above and beyond everything & everyone.
I re-imagined the mystery because it is an incredible story, needing no garnish to fascinate historic mystery buffs. His story? A Prussian [later German] from a humble working-class family, is found to have the intellect and ability to become the first academic professional in his family line; perhaps an MD. Of course, his father wanted that more than anything, knowing it would raise his family and progeny up socially and financially.
Ludwig however, fell in love with Science: not any or all the sciences, but the natural Sciences. So much so, that he left University and began to practice his passion to such a degree that people around him began to call him ‘Dr’ anyway. The call of the wild in Australia, soon brought the energetic, ever-curious Dr Leichhardt to our fair lands. Wherein he was soon exploring from the bottom of east-coast of Queensland, north & north-west right up to the most northern point of the Northern Territory & parallel to the tip of Cape York in Qld; it was, & still is, quite an incredible achievement by men on foot most of the way.
Little did I know then that A/Prof. Andrew Wright Hurley, of UTS in Sydney, would one day write his own academic, non-fiction book (Ludwig Leichhardt’s Ghosts,
The Strange Career of a Traveling Myth). That Andrew would find my story in his research; That he would use my chronicle within his book to illustrate the various uses made of the mystery: that he would track the author of “The Vanishing” down to Cairns, FNQ, & invite him to Sydney – all expenses paid via the German Consulate – to be a guest within a trio of similar minds, speaking to a gathering of the Leichhardt curious in Leichhardt suburb, inner-west Sydney, within the impressive Leichhardt Town Hall. Nevertheless, on the 7th of May, 2019, that is exactly what happened.
I imagine some came to the event hoping for some answers to the long-standing mystery. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for us, there are no answers to give. Mystery reigns yet in his case. In 1848, the diarist/letter writer, explorer, naturalist, plant/seed and rock collector, along with four other Europeans, two Aboriginal guides, seven horses, 20 mules and 50 bullocks literally disappeared somewhere west of the young Brisbane town. Nary a bridle, wagon-wheel, pot, pan, body or bones have ever been found.
My wild imagination has the good ‘Dr’ meeting a powerful spirit of similar nature to himself. Of being made an offer that no one of such intellect & curiosity could ever pass up.
Ludwig’s spirit; of joy, curiosity & exploration lives on and, in my mind, he is walking ‘the silver path’ and yet influencing our mind’s eye to maintain the balance ‘tween the heavenly Spirit and our Mother…
All around Oz at present there are signs that our 1st people’s once-sacred lands [Australia/Tasmania nationally] are reacting to the ignorant use of the land, sea and waters. Fish kills by the millions in once pristine river systems. Native animals becoming extinct by the day. Creeks & rivers failing to last over summer. The GBR [great barrier reef] falling apart from 20million+ people going over & across & into it non-stop for 100 years! That’s only the peeps that love it! Check out the amount of shipping that runs our GBR daily I dare you. 40-50 degree days all over – that’s centigrade btw.
We have never taken note of our 1st-people’s use & maintenance of the sacred over those 65,000+ years. They recognised a long time ago that this unique land was meant to ‘run’ naturally or not all all. I just read a news article that explained the Brisbane River, the Capital of my home State, has been polluted by various toxic chemicals for a long period of time. Apparently, that land can be cleaned up, but not the waters it ran into. All Queensland Australians are gonna have to become guerrilla fighters this time. At least ‘they’ won’t use poisoned flour, or our own armed-peeps against us this time hopefully.
How & why did we allow this shite to occur over the years we’ve called Qld, & Brissy home? Were we all watching the cricket on TV or sum-ting? So, from how I read it, we can clean up the land but can’t do anything a-tall about the toxic chemicals in the river all those years 🙁 Better not talk about that lad; cancer/god-knows-what from that kukka bad medicine: as we know. So many people dying of these awful diseases daily & we wonder why? We’ve treated our only home like a replaceable machine we created, instead of the living entity it are! & right now, we’re paying the piper for it.
That whole 3rd Law thing isn’t only for scientific ‘bidness’ fyi: “For every action there is an equal & opposite reaction,” it was discovered about our world/universe. It’s true for everything in life, when ya’ll think about it. From relationships to space travel… We take all the big [& little] parrot-fish from a reef system, & the entire reef collapses. “Oh! We didn’t know that!”. Well we do now! We take water from the land & use it for short term profit, in a land that our 1st people struggled in some years through 10-year+ droughts, & now we see the effects of draining our pristine once-sacred waters/land for short-term gain.
This is it folk. This land was meant to be used as naturally as possible & our 1st people found that out over 65K+ years here. Now, after 200+ years of destruction of the once-pristine environment, in a land not made for such ‘blind’ use, the Piper & that Newton fella are playing loud & proud together once again.
Don’t worry about whether you have a job. Or money, or a partner, nor about that new car or boat. Our freakin’ environment is collapsing around us. Write! Talk to your loved ones. VOTE! Please god; look & see what’s happening to our country right under our feet. Wake up Oz!!! They’re killing your future for your children & theirs & theirs & theirs etc etc & it could be 65,000+ years into the future; if we look after it proper-way…
It is the London winter of 1928. Fog blankets the city.
Pedestrians and commuters along one of the city’s busiest thoroughfares are arrested at the spectacle directly outside the Edwardian baroque marble facade of Australia House on the corner of the Strand and Aldwych.
They see an elderly, longhaired, Australian Aboriginal man. He is dressed in a black greatcoat. The only contrast to his dark appearance is a full, silver beard and a cape upon which are attached dozens of small white rubber skeletons. He also wears a sandwich board placard of the type used by street vendors, all across the city, to advertise their wares.
But this old man, Anthony Martin Fernando, a toymaker by trade, is not advertising his products. Instead, his placard condemns the appalling treatment of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in colonial and newly federated Australia.
Fernando repeatedly points to the little skeletons and cries out to passers-by: “This is all that Australia has left of my people.”
Fernando was also a regular speaker at London’s Hyde Park Corner during the 1930s.
Introduction: from FfC # 1 – Nyarla and the Circle of Stones
My Clan and its mysteries have been kept out of common knowledge and history in my homeland of Australia: the Island continent you may know as that brown land down-under. This is the Clan way. To succeed in their duty, secrecy is a prerequisite to safeguard mission and warrior. With the coming of the pale-skinned Ghosts - a little over 200 years ago - and their written language, we now have a means to reveal the intriguing history of our covert Clan, to other Australians and to those many new people’s that now call this majestic land home. Our Elders’ also gift them to the modern world at large. If you were born in Australia you may have heard such stories told around campfires and family meals; about the Australian Aboriginal magic man or Kadaicha - the soft-foot clever-man - as our people named our Clan sundry years ago.
During these chronicles, you will find that our warriors use a form of mystical travel and have no need of Shank’s Pony, as the act of walking is often called in Australia. In times of need for speed, these relentless spectres walk the ancient Dreamtime ‘creation-song-lines’ that cross every sacred feature of our wide red-brown land: out of Space and Time as we know such. Across 50,000 years of reinforced superstition, fear and awe, the Clan became known as The Fethafoot: half-human half-spirit beings that could come and go at will leaving no trace… Kadaicha spirit-warriors… Shape-shifting spies that transform as required into Judge Jury and Executioner. Unknown to the majority and, a great boon to our work, many of these enigmatic warriors arise from that innocuous and delicate gender of the language-creatures.
This pithy glimpse will give you some idea of the enigmatic Clan. You will discover a more intricate use of their unique gifts and talents as you read the chronicles and, as the need for their unique individual skills occur. Please – enjoy my people’s pleasure in the telling of these chronicles. Although they are not in chronological order, they have been recorded as passed down for all to enjoy: to example the many unknown vibrant treasures of our first people and our ancient lands vibrant past. A journey will take you into the mostly unknown, moral and ethical heart of my people, from Dreamtime to today.
“Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities.”
“It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.”
“Now, now my good man, this is no time to be making enemies.”
(Voltaire on his deathbed in response to a priest asking him that he renounce Satan.)”