I went to have a look at the camel farm in Ilparpa, NT. Later that day I talked to a camel lover about the place. Here the story she told me:
Once upon a time that camel farm had a camel gallery. In the gallery they used to sell products made out of camel: camel milk, camel meat, rugs, scarves, sweaters and baby cloths made out of camel fur, and also little carved figures made out of camel teeth.
This all sounds pretty hideous I know, but the worth was that a British witch was managing the gallery. The witch’s father was a former prisoner in Great Britain who was deported to Australia out of pity. His little girl who was born in the British prison grew up in Australia around released prisoners. The girl never met her mother and became a witch at a very young age.
The little girl arrived to Australia with her father when she was 11. Her father and his mates overtook a farm in Ilparpa in a violent action. They came in on horses and brutally, with weapons they smuggled out of Britain, killed almost all humans on the farm. There was one young woman who survived the massacre; she was the queen of Ilpalpa. The British convicts did not care about Ilparpa’s monarchy of course, nevertheless they let the queen live and turned her into their slave. Since that day her life became miserable. The former prisoner - the witch’s dad, used to rape her on a regular basis until she fell pregnant.
Camels used to be mustered in that farm. Back in the days when the witch was a teenager the farm used to grow camels for meat only. The witch killed many camels in her life. The taste of camel meat was the only meat taste she knew.
When the British witch became old, she was wealthy enough to start a camel gallery on her premises. It was something she always wanted to do. If to kill the camels one might as well use them entirely - their fur, teeth and milk. It was within her mentality to use things. She did not only use camels, she also used her half sister, the princess of Ilparpa. Although the princess of Ilparpa was born to Ilparpa’s queen, she was treated like a slave since she was born; her destiny was identical to her mother’s since the occupation.
When the princess grew up and the gallery opened the princess worked with the witch at the camel gallery. The witch was ugly from outside and from inside. She had fake teeth and a big belly. The princess however was beautiful and charming, shy and gentle. Her skin was white and tender like a cloud in summer, her eyes were soft and green like grass after the rain and her hair was covering her neck in endless waves. The witch ordered the princess around, humiliated her in every opportunity and took advantage of her authority.
A gallery exhibition was planed for the first of May. The princess scrubbed the floors on her knees and carried heavy items inside and outside of the gallery. At night she would lie down with blisters on her feet and a swollen spine, but she was excited about the exhibition. At last she will meet people! The witch will need her help and will be busy enough to let the princess talk to the people of Ilparpa.
The exhibition night arrives. Ilparpa’s artists and farmers are walking around the gallery. There are about 60 people in the small gallery. The witch is wearing a navy blue skirt and a white, Britsh, buttoned shirt. She throws around smiles and tells lies to everyone as she always does. She tells people how hard she has worked, how much she cares for the camels and how her father worked hard to purchase the farm.
In the meanwhile a young aboriginal boy sneaks into the gallery. He looks at the witch and then at the princess, looks at the witch again, then at the princess. The princess smiles to him tenderly. He smiles back and runs towards the witch who starts shouting: “murderer! Murderer!” The boy reaches the witch and pulls her skirt down.
The witch is standing there in her white underwear, which instantly becomes wet - she had wet her undies. The guests are quiet; they are looking at her overwhelmed. She tries to pull up her skirt yet with no luck, the skirt is torn. She finally gives up, releases herself from the skirt, and shouts, “You pathetic primitives, you all stink!” she runs out of the gallery, slams the door of her four wheel drive and disappears. Her face is never seen again in the central desert of Australia.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
About mozzies and looking for things
My ankle bracelet fell of my leg. I can remember the moment, it fell on the floor and I was in a rush. I put it in a safe place while conscious that it will be hard to find later on, but ‘at least it’s safe’ I thought. A few days later I couldn't find it anymore.
So how come mozzies always find me? I hide under a blanket and can hear the most annoying buzz near my ear. Big things cannot find little things yet little things can easily find big things.
And why the hell do they go for the ankle? Is the blood sweater there ?
Mozzies favor the most annoying spots: ankles (you can’t really scratch there because the round ‘marble’ is in the way), feet palms (this actually hurt!) and eyelids (you look like you've been fighting!). Not to say that getting bitten in other places is not super SUPER annoying too.
However, let’s try and look at it from another point of view:
Hello and nice to meet you! My name is Annoyzzie. My pleasure in life is to eat. I prefer raw blood that does not contain meat (I am almost vegetarian). I love to bite stretched skin. The softer and the more transparent, the more divine. That explains why my preferred food is found in newborns. Thereafter I like young ladies, and finally (if there’s nothing better around) I’d eat old ladies' blood. In any case, I love food so much (and depend on it obviously) that I’ll have anyone.
Sometimes when my friends are around I really go crazy for food! I’ll eat anything, and quickly, just like humans. I go from one chunk of skin to the other almost without stopping. I am not afraid to get noxious or sick, or even to die. Some of my best friends have died from being determined to eat during our gatherings. Many times they have died because their lust drove them rather than cautiousness.
I am however glad to be a mozzie. I see other bugs that have to fight for their food and me – my biggest effort is to have to sneak in through a mozzie net. If I am successful in that I get food, as much as I want, especially at night time. Actually my absolute preferred time of the day is when the sun sets, the sky is beautiful then and I always go out.
As you can see I enjoy food yet I also like music, a lot! After all, what’s life without music? The music I prefer is experimental – beep & buzz. It’s the kind of experimental/abstract compositions that entertain the musician, less so the listener. I enjoy the process of what I am doing with this type of music; it is not my goal to please the listeners. However, if I enjoy it maybe they will appreciate my serious attitude towards my music too.
I am actually not sure what the public thinks of my beeps & buzzes although my parents taught me to think positive. I don’t believe humans really like it. They’ve tried to slap me several times and it didn’t feel like a friendly pat or anything (not like what they would do to their horses, cats and dogs).
Ants
My name is Antseverywhere but people call me Anthere. In my culture people have to work hard, like in China. I work to provide food for myself and for my family. This is all that matters. My parents taught me about the values of labor . Their parents taught them the same things and it has been going on for generations. The principle of my work is to follow my tribe and spread widely. We feed from anything that is nutritious. We are not spoiled, not at all. It can be fresh food on the counter, leftovers on a dirty plate, crumbs or even human or animal’s fluids.
We normally preach for peace, however we will bite if we feel in danger (though this only happens rarely ). Therefore I don’t really understand why we are not popular among humans. My dad says they don’t like us because we are everywhere. They think they can just step on us and our houses, but we will not be defeated!
Sometimes, when I walk back and forth from the rubbish bin in the kitchen to my home, while humans are cooking, I meet Annoyzzie. We have introduced ourselves to each other. Each one of us has a different purpose in life: he is dependent on human skin and I need leftovers, so we’re not competing or anything.
We’re both small and black. I am nevertheless quite jealous at Annoyzzie for his ability to fly although of course if I could fly I wouldn't just wonder in the air; I will work towards optimizing my food resources.
We greet each other all the time now. Annoyzzie flies above my head and chitchats while I’m working. We talk about the pleasure of eating and about human culture which is alien to us. Annoyzzie says he both hates and loves humans. It makes me laugh; he is totally dependent on them yet they must hate him.
In fact, this kitchen has become his home. Three humans are coming and going to this kitchen regularly. He prefers the blood of the females, “it is sweet and juicy” he says.
One day Annoyzzie tells me “Hey, Anthere, what about resting for a minute on the counter? There’s a beautiful red piece of meat just there. We can hang out together for a few minutes, what do you say?” I don’t usually rest during the day, I like to take advantage of all minutes of the day, but since I’ve grown to like Annoyzzie I accept his invitation. I clime on the meat, lick the red raw flash with enjoyment till I realize that Annoyzzie is looking at me, “I knew you will like it!” He says.
Since that day Annoyzzie and I are pretty much a couple. We spend each evening together hiding in the kitchen. Our parents don’t know about our relationship, they wouldn’t approve of a mozzie – ant relationship. For several months we are in love, kind and soft to each other, until I start feeling our differences. The good old conversations become fights. I blame Annoyzzie for being lazy, and he blames me for being tactless.
Annoyzzie is happier than ever today, he lands just near the trash bin and pokes me. ‘What’s wrong with you?” I ask. I approach him and can smell the blood. He overdosed! I can see it in his eyes. It is not the first time this happens. “Where have you been?” I ask alarmed. “in the bedroom…” he can hardly talk. He had been in one of the female’s bedroom late at night and sucked way too much blood out of her, poor girl. Annoyzzie is talking loudly; his intonation is climbing up and down. He tries to fly above me yet drops. His eyes are red and his stomach swollen. He has been greedy. I take deep breaths, I am quiet. I oblige myself not to say anything while he is in this state. At the moment he will only be able to react aggressively. I’ll be better off confronting him when he sobers up. I continue my work while he falls asleep on the window pane.
In the morning I quickly go to the window, he is still there. He could have been killed by one of the humans - sleeping there for so many hours careless and unconscious. He hears my footsteps and opens his eyes. He looks at me, angry, before I even say anything. “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?” he asks. “I hate it when you are in this state, it is disgraceful and dangerous, I was afraid of you”. His eyes fill with rage, “well you will just have to deal with it, all my friends overdose from time to time, its liberating and fun, it's like being on top of the world.”
I walk away in silence; I cannot bare seeing Annoyzzie destroy himself, being a slave to his passions rather than listen to his intellect. I can not reason with him. I walk to the rubbish bin, to my family, I don’t look back.
In the afternoon I climb up and find Annoyzzie lying dead in the exact same place I saw him in the morning. My eyes fill with tears. I turn around and walk away as fast as I can. Just near him the human female is scratching her elbow. “What goes around comes around” she mumbles.
So how come mozzies always find me? I hide under a blanket and can hear the most annoying buzz near my ear. Big things cannot find little things yet little things can easily find big things.
And why the hell do they go for the ankle? Is the blood sweater there ?
Mozzies favor the most annoying spots: ankles (you can’t really scratch there because the round ‘marble’ is in the way), feet palms (this actually hurt!) and eyelids (you look like you've been fighting!). Not to say that getting bitten in other places is not super SUPER annoying too.
However, let’s try and look at it from another point of view:
Hello and nice to meet you! My name is Annoyzzie. My pleasure in life is to eat. I prefer raw blood that does not contain meat (I am almost vegetarian). I love to bite stretched skin. The softer and the more transparent, the more divine. That explains why my preferred food is found in newborns. Thereafter I like young ladies, and finally (if there’s nothing better around) I’d eat old ladies' blood. In any case, I love food so much (and depend on it obviously) that I’ll have anyone.
Sometimes when my friends are around I really go crazy for food! I’ll eat anything, and quickly, just like humans. I go from one chunk of skin to the other almost without stopping. I am not afraid to get noxious or sick, or even to die. Some of my best friends have died from being determined to eat during our gatherings. Many times they have died because their lust drove them rather than cautiousness.
I am however glad to be a mozzie. I see other bugs that have to fight for their food and me – my biggest effort is to have to sneak in through a mozzie net. If I am successful in that I get food, as much as I want, especially at night time. Actually my absolute preferred time of the day is when the sun sets, the sky is beautiful then and I always go out.
As you can see I enjoy food yet I also like music, a lot! After all, what’s life without music? The music I prefer is experimental – beep & buzz. It’s the kind of experimental/abstract compositions that entertain the musician, less so the listener. I enjoy the process of what I am doing with this type of music; it is not my goal to please the listeners. However, if I enjoy it maybe they will appreciate my serious attitude towards my music too.
I am actually not sure what the public thinks of my beeps & buzzes although my parents taught me to think positive. I don’t believe humans really like it. They’ve tried to slap me several times and it didn’t feel like a friendly pat or anything (not like what they would do to their horses, cats and dogs).
Ants
My name is Antseverywhere but people call me Anthere. In my culture people have to work hard, like in China. I work to provide food for myself and for my family. This is all that matters. My parents taught me about the values of labor . Their parents taught them the same things and it has been going on for generations. The principle of my work is to follow my tribe and spread widely. We feed from anything that is nutritious. We are not spoiled, not at all. It can be fresh food on the counter, leftovers on a dirty plate, crumbs or even human or animal’s fluids.
We normally preach for peace, however we will bite if we feel in danger (though this only happens rarely ). Therefore I don’t really understand why we are not popular among humans. My dad says they don’t like us because we are everywhere. They think they can just step on us and our houses, but we will not be defeated!
Sometimes, when I walk back and forth from the rubbish bin in the kitchen to my home, while humans are cooking, I meet Annoyzzie. We have introduced ourselves to each other. Each one of us has a different purpose in life: he is dependent on human skin and I need leftovers, so we’re not competing or anything.
We’re both small and black. I am nevertheless quite jealous at Annoyzzie for his ability to fly although of course if I could fly I wouldn't just wonder in the air; I will work towards optimizing my food resources.
We greet each other all the time now. Annoyzzie flies above my head and chitchats while I’m working. We talk about the pleasure of eating and about human culture which is alien to us. Annoyzzie says he both hates and loves humans. It makes me laugh; he is totally dependent on them yet they must hate him.
In fact, this kitchen has become his home. Three humans are coming and going to this kitchen regularly. He prefers the blood of the females, “it is sweet and juicy” he says.
One day Annoyzzie tells me “Hey, Anthere, what about resting for a minute on the counter? There’s a beautiful red piece of meat just there. We can hang out together for a few minutes, what do you say?” I don’t usually rest during the day, I like to take advantage of all minutes of the day, but since I’ve grown to like Annoyzzie I accept his invitation. I clime on the meat, lick the red raw flash with enjoyment till I realize that Annoyzzie is looking at me, “I knew you will like it!” He says.
Since that day Annoyzzie and I are pretty much a couple. We spend each evening together hiding in the kitchen. Our parents don’t know about our relationship, they wouldn’t approve of a mozzie – ant relationship. For several months we are in love, kind and soft to each other, until I start feeling our differences. The good old conversations become fights. I blame Annoyzzie for being lazy, and he blames me for being tactless.
Annoyzzie is happier than ever today, he lands just near the trash bin and pokes me. ‘What’s wrong with you?” I ask. I approach him and can smell the blood. He overdosed! I can see it in his eyes. It is not the first time this happens. “Where have you been?” I ask alarmed. “in the bedroom…” he can hardly talk. He had been in one of the female’s bedroom late at night and sucked way too much blood out of her, poor girl. Annoyzzie is talking loudly; his intonation is climbing up and down. He tries to fly above me yet drops. His eyes are red and his stomach swollen. He has been greedy. I take deep breaths, I am quiet. I oblige myself not to say anything while he is in this state. At the moment he will only be able to react aggressively. I’ll be better off confronting him when he sobers up. I continue my work while he falls asleep on the window pane.
In the morning I quickly go to the window, he is still there. He could have been killed by one of the humans - sleeping there for so many hours careless and unconscious. He hears my footsteps and opens his eyes. He looks at me, angry, before I even say anything. “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?” he asks. “I hate it when you are in this state, it is disgraceful and dangerous, I was afraid of you”. His eyes fill with rage, “well you will just have to deal with it, all my friends overdose from time to time, its liberating and fun, it's like being on top of the world.”
I walk away in silence; I cannot bare seeing Annoyzzie destroy himself, being a slave to his passions rather than listen to his intellect. I can not reason with him. I walk to the rubbish bin, to my family, I don’t look back.
In the afternoon I climb up and find Annoyzzie lying dead in the exact same place I saw him in the morning. My eyes fill with tears. I turn around and walk away as fast as I can. Just near him the human female is scratching her elbow. “What goes around comes around” she mumbles.
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