The Critical Unpacking and Rewriting of the Australian Anthem

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Australians all let us rejoice,

For we are young and free;

We've golden soil and wealth for toil,

Our home is girt by sea;

Our land abounds in Nature's gifts

Of beauty rich and rare;

In history's page, let every stage

Advance Australia fair!

In joyful strains then let us sing,

"Advance Australia fair!" 

When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd,

To trace wide oceans o'er,

True British courage bore him on,

Till he landed on our shore.

Then here he raised Old England's flag,

The standard of the brave;

With all her faults we love her still,

"Brittannia rules the wave!"

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

Beneath our radiant southern Cross,

We'll toil with hearts and hands;

To make this Commonwealth of ours

Renowned of all the lands;

For those who've come across the seas

We've boundless plains to share;

With courage let us all combine

To advance Australia fair.

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

While other nations of the globe

Behold us from afar,

We'll rise to high renown and shine

Like our glorious southern star;

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

Who come our lot to share,

Let all combine with heart and hand

To advance Australia fair!

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore

To guard our native strand;

Brittannia then shall surely know,

Beyond wide ocean's roll,

Her sons in fair Australia's land

Still keep a British soul.

In joyful strains the let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

In yesterday's post, I feel like I touched a little too briefly on the Australian anthem and its many wrongs and hypocritical statements and how it should be changed, so I thought that I would take the time today to unpack it critically, and to rewrite it into something more accurate to Australian culture.

'For we are young and free;'

I did not know that existing in Australia deems one immortal and liberated from the law. I did not know that the Aboriginal people were free to do what they want when the settlement occurred, and I certainly did not know that young Aboriginals were not kidnapped, forced to assimilation and were later known as the 'stolen generation'. 

Our home is girt by sea;

I am one of the lucky people in my family to live well near the coastline, wherein all I ahve to do is drive a maximum of ten minutes and I have full exposure to the wonderful Williamstown Beach. Another five minutes, and I have Saint Kilda Beach. Seven minutes closer is Altona Beach, and thirty minutes further is Brighton Beach - ultimately, I have a lot of beaches closeby. However, the majority of the population begs to differ, so no, 'our' home is not necessarily girt by sea. And it is not 'our' home to begin with. If you argue that it is, then is it okay for me to barge into your luxurious double-storey home and claim it as mine because it is on a part of soil that has no sign, and assimilate you to my Lebanese ways? No? Why not? That is what happened to the Aboriginals, is it not?

When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd

How was Captain Cook in any way 'gallant' if he had feared the Aboriginal people? Was his claiming of the entire east coast of New Holland as his own despite the lack of permission of the original inhabitants 'gallant' too? I think a more accurate word choice is 'thieving'.

True British courage bore him on,

Till he landed on our shore.

What is it, exactly, that defines 'true' British courage? Is it the fact that the Queen would have his head if he dared not claim this new land in her name? And who is 'our' referring to in here? Did, at the time, Aboriginal people see him as a courageous British man who landed on their shore? And if 'we' claim ourselves to be 'Australian', then how come we still associate ourselves with Britain? Are we not 'gallant' enough to liberate ourself from Miss Elizabeth's rule?

The standard of the brave;

With all her faults we love her still,

"Brittannia rules the wave!"

So the 'standard' of being 'brave' is to invade another territory and claim it as your own despite the current inhabitants clearly inhabiting it? Am I 'brave', then, if I walk into K-mart with a flag that I design and place the flag in the middle of the store and shoot all those who attempt to escort me now because I own that part of land? Would that be a sufficient amount of standard for my darling the Queen? And with 'all her faults' they still do not acknowledge the fault of stealing land, because that happened. It only comes naturally that the buffoon who wrote this anthem then includes '"Brittannia

rules the wave!"'; yes, let the 'gallant' Brittannia rule the wave and take not into account its original rulers.

We'll toil with hearts and hands;

I can guarantee that the entire generation of Australians under the age of twenty are living on Centrelink pay with their parents and "can't be f*cked" getting out of bed in order to 'toil with [their] hearts and hands'. In fact, the only thing they will use their hands for is to acquire and prepare the use of illicit substances and alcohol and rolled up cylinders of tobacco.*

Renowned of all the lands;

Yes I suppose we are spoken about by many people, and not for the right reasons either. For one, Americans think that we eat Vegemite by the jar-full, they think that we ride Emus and Kangaroos to school and that we treat Aboriginal people in a similar way to the treatment of African-American people back in the times of segregation and the Apartheid. Well, they certainly are right about the last claim. We should not be proud of that.

For those who've come across the seas

We've boundless plains to share;

This is probably the most inaccurate statement in the entire anthem. I highly doubt that our Prime Minister Tony Abbott has any plains to share. In fact, I bet that as a toddler he did not share his toys with his playmates. He probably headbutted them into the sandpit and made sure they stayed there until their parents came to pick them up. We do not share, and we do not accept any visitors unless they can benefit our economy. Other than that, off to another island they go.

With courage let us all combine

To advance Australia fair.

Of course, those of us who seek out the ways of social justice truly need courage in case an Australian equivalent of Putin makes sure that nobody protests against the ways of this 'advanced' country - sure, we have advanced past the recognition of our massacring past.

While other nations of the globe

Behold us from afar,

We'll rise to high renown and shine

Like our glorious southern star;

The Southern Star technically belongs to the milky way. Apart from falsely claimed land, I do not think 'we' really own anything here, unless we are speaking of shame, in which case we own a lot of that. Or a Southern Cross tattoo. A European man named João Faras was able to depict the Southern Cross properly and guess what? He is not Australian. Nor British. Nor a convict. And sure nations 'behold us from afar', who wants to associate themselves with a bunch of bogans who think ill of the original land owners of the place they call home?

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

Who come our lot to share,

Oh, yes, by all means, I am sure that in this day and age there are a lot of Australians willing to share 'our lot' of land. Exactly how much land is theirs to begin with?

Let all combine with heart and hand

Yes, I am sure Tony Abbott wants to hold your hand and listen to your third-world problems after you have gotten off the boat, which you gave the last of your life's earnings to be able to sale on. He has prepared you some tea, too, following the customary British tradition.

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore

To guard our native strand;

Brittannia then shall surely know,

Beyond wide ocean's roll,

Her sons in fair Australia's land

Still keep a British soul.

So then, I think it fair to agree that Tony Abbot has an ice-cold British soul. Well done, Abbott. Well, it makes sense that he acts in this way since he was born in the United Kingdom. Hey, Australians! You also do not own your own prime minister!

So, without any further ado, here is my revised edition of the Australian anthem:

Australians, all, let us unite

and acknowledge the land's original owners.

We know that Cook was the Queen's slave,

so dare he misbehave?

He claimed the land and nature's gifts,
killed most of the inhabitants too,

let history's page depict this age
of massacres, thievings and kills!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

When thieving Cook from God knows where
came to Australia in his great big ship,

he landed on the shore and waved his flag,
and claimed it all as his.

he scared Aboriginals and scared the animals,
he considered them all part of the fauna,

and with the Queen in mind, he ensured mankind
trodded over some more inferiors!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!" 

We don't even own the Southern Cross,
but we won't come to terms with that!

In fact the only thing we only really own
is Vegemite, thanks to Cyril Percy Callister!

For those who've come across the seas

Tony Abbott waits with his navy!

With weapons and deportation notices at the ready,
he ensures you have a quick stay!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

While other nations of the globe

shake their heads at us from afar,

We'll drift in our Commodore utes, flip the bird,
with an arm that's tattooed with the southern star;

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

we came as chained convicts!

We never respected the Aborigines
and still treat them like sh*t!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse Tony Abbott from his parliament perch

To guard our native strand;

All the lands shall surely know,

despite our claims that we accept diversity,

Her sons in "fair" Australia's land

are racist Aussie sheilas and blokes!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

*note: this does not apply to all young Australians - this is an exaggerated and satirical take on the Australian anthem, please do not ask for me to be shunned from this gallantly claimed island.

Vegemite: A Fable

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, underneath all other lands, lived a land called 'Down-under'. In Down-under, there was a big fluffy koala bear named Ken, a giant two-legged kangaroo that hopped through the bushlands named Karl, a tinier version of Karl with big glistening eyes called Wally the wallaby, a lazy brown hedge-like being called Wilson the wombat and a strange duck-like animal called Pat the platypus.

Ken, Karl, Wally, Wilson and Pat were sick of eating the same grass, sick of drinking the same water and sick of seeing the same boring old scenery. 
"Let's get out of here!" screamed Karl one day, hopping in from a hunt. "This place bores me!"
"Aye!" agreed Pat. "This water is slimy now. I can't swim through it properly and the fish can't see me, they've bumped into me a dozen times today!"
"Oath, no wonder why you've got a boofhead!" joked Wilson, slowly, in a monotonous voice. The crew laughed at his voice and not his joke.
"Struth, let's go then!" said Wally, in his little voice, marching on ahead of the group, off on a journey from Adelaide to Melbourne in search for new food. 
"Wait up, mates!" squealed Ken from the treetops. He leaped off a branch and, with a thud, landed on Wilson's back. 

And they were off. Ken held on so tightly to Wilson's back that his skin pulled backwards and made him look as though he had gotten a facelift.
"Blimey, would you fellas look at Wilson's face! Looks brand new!" joked Karl. Everyone erupted into laughter.
"Stop that," he tried, but they laughed even more.
"Sorry Wilson mate!" said Ken. He hopped off his back and walked beside him. "Didn't know thar'd happen." He tied some gum-leaves around his neck to entice him to keep moving. "Just make sure I don't eat 'em, hey mate? Don't wanna sleep around all day."
"No worries mate," replied Wilson.
"Oh get a tree," remarked Karl, and hopped faster away until he reached the edge of a cliff.

"Time to climb down, mates!" exclaimed Karl, excited at the fact that he could just about bounce off anything without getting hurt. This would be a very simple task for him. The crew looked down at Melbourne and its many terrains. In some areas it was snowing, in some areas it was tropical, and in some areas it was dusty. They could not believe their eyes. Off in the distance, it even began to rain in one area.
"Oh, I don't know about that, Karl, I don't like heights!" Wally started to shake and his behind Karl's big tail.
"Oh, blimey," said Karl, "we'll just have to leave you here then!"
Wally looked up at him with his big eyes and Karl's heart melted as they began to water.
"I'm kidding!" he continued. "Let's take that creek all the way down! Look out, Melbourne, here we come!"

When they reached the creek, they looked up to see strange trees. It looked as though sausages hung off them. They passed bushes and bushes of heath myrtles and soon Karl was fed up with having white petals all over him. "Let's take to the creek, shall we?"
The creek was icy cold, but refreshing. Wilson struggled to keep his head up so Pat agreed to swim below him in order to make it a little more buoyant. Ken clung to Karl's back this time, Karl splashing water all over those behind him as he stomped through the creek. 

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They ventured further into Melbourne and arrived at a nice little location just as the sun began to set, still on Melbourne's outskirts. It was foreign enough for them and they were happy. They slept well that night, by the creek, when all of the sudden Pat awoke to a strange voice. 
"Who's there?" he whispered out.
"Me!" replied a strange voice.
"'Me' who?"
A strange looking creature came out from behind a bush.
"Who are you?" Pat asked, intrigued.
"I'm Cyril Curlew, thank you very much. Who are you and why is your beak so wide?"
"What beak?!" exclaimed Pat, mildly freaking out. He woke the entire crew.
"Blimey, who's your mate?" asked Karl, eager to know who the strange creature was.
"Yeah!" said Wally, hopping out of his little leaf hut.
Ken and Wilson, who were spooning, woke up and rubbed their eyes. Wilson fell asleep again and Ken nudged him back awake.
"What are you all doing here?" Cyril asked.

"We want some new food. We were sick of our scenery but it looks the same here, I guess." Pat stroked his little head as he spoke.
"Ah," said Cyril, "new food..."
"Have you got somethin' for us to try?" Wilson asked, now wide awake.
"As a matter of fact I do!" He handed them a jar with dark brown spread in it.
"W-what's that?" asked Ken, anxious about eating something other than his gum-leaves. 
"It's Vegemite," responded Cyril. "I made it by accident. I found some wheat, it dried up in summer and I don't know. It just happened. I can't tell you the rest because I want to be famous for it. But you can have this jar to try it out."
"Thanks!" the crew cheered together.

Soon the crew began to put Vegemite on anything they ate. Ken spread it on his gum-leaves, Karl spread it on grass and occasionally ate some off Wilson's back as Wilson ate from Karl's Vegemite covered grass piles. Pat spread it onto molluscs that he found in the creek and Wally dipped his berries into it. It was delicious and they eventually finished the jar.
"Oh no!" exclaimed Ken, "what'll we do?"
"We'll go get more!" Karl got up and hopped off to Cyril's nest. "G'day Cyril!" he beamed as Cyril woke up.
"What is it, buddy?"
"We want some more of your Vegemite, please!" chirped Pat.
"We love it!" added Ken.
"Yeah!" agreed Wilson.
Wally nodded all the way through.
"I've got three jars left. Use them wisely, I can't give away any more, mates."
"Thanks!" they all responded.

That night they ate up all three jars and woke the next day to a mouth full of ulcers. They could not speak. They wondered back up along the creek back home and weeks later they healed and they never spoke of Vegemite again. Ken ate plain gum-leaves. Karl and Wilson ate plain grass. Pat ate plain molluscs.  Wally ate plain berries. 

This is all my fault! thought Pat. I need to fix this.
He snuck later that night into the creek and followed it down to Cyril. Cyril was fast asleep. Pat broke into his Vegemite cabinet and retrieved the last two jars and placed them in the creek. He watched them float away into the distance. No animal from the crew ever spoke of it again.

Months later, Pat's friend from America, Sassy the squirrel, sent him a message with her friend Fred the falcon. It read:
'Hey Pat. Just had a spoonful of yucky brown stuff from an Australian jar. Yuck.'
To which he responded:
'Hey Sassy. Easy on how much you eat. It's nice until you eat the whole jar. Try.'