The PR Blog

When I was young and even more foolish than today (some might say), and complained about old people, my mother would admonish me that I myself would be old someday. That seemed light-years away and highly improbable, as even fifty seemed an unattainable age in those halcyon days of youth, but alas, Mum was right as usual.

How I wish I had learned to type when I was young!

Most people today have acquired the skill through years of necessity as computers and mobile phones have become part of everyday lives. 

As a schoolkid, all the " smart " kids learned languages and only the lesser mentally gifted headed off to learn typing, shorthand. bookkeeping or metalwork. What a crock that has turned out to be. As I have matured and wandered haphazardly through this thing called life, I have often regretted that I have had to acquire the skills that would have seen me a much more ably equipped adult.

When President Trump laid down the gauntlet in 2015 as he descended the escalator and announced that was running for President of the United States of America back in 2016, the enemy knew that they were in for a war where the winners would change the fabric of not only America, but the entire world.

Since then, America has been fighting for its independence and many battles have been won.... and lost.

But the war is not over and, whether or not it is Donald Trump who wins this war is almost irrelevant... he was the man who woke the sleeping giant of patriotism. Now that it is awake, I doubt that it will slumber again. 

But what cannot be ignored is that THIS WAR MUST BE WON. 

Around the dinner table Ned describes the Stringybark Creek fight and his past life of persecution by police for things he did and things he did not do and the incarceration of his mother. He denies murdering the police stating it was a fair stand up fight with his enemies who were out to kill him first. All the time Joe Byrne is writing this down as a letter to be given to Superintendent Sadlier with a warning that he will continue his war against the police until his mother and her baby are released from prison.

I have been thinking a lot about bacteria this morning. You must be asking why I am suddenly talking about bacteria? Well, it was all because; last night I got food poisoning and I was as crook as a crook dog that is so crook that it made a crook dog look quite healthy and how I found out about a lady who discovered a bacteria that could eat plastic.

Suddenly, I am interested in plastic and how the environment can be saved because of bacteria and my bacterial food poisoning seems somewhat insignificant. 

More importantly, my bout of the belly bug led me to a young woman who could do a great deal to save the planet. Her name is Morgan Vague and I want to share how I found out about someone who needs to be honoured for her work.

And it all started with bacteria.

When I was a lad in Western Australia, the fifth of November used to be an eagerly awaited event. That was Guy Fawkes Night, commemorating the apprehension in 1605 of conspirators who plotted to blow up the British Parliament, and were hanged and quartered.