Patriot Realm

" Home to one of Quilpie Shire’s most iconic attractions, St Finbarr’s Church rests on the foundations of an intriguing history.

In 1976, the Priest at the time, Father John Ryan, decided to compliment the opal mining background of the area by commissioning local miner, Des Burton, to install a border of opal around the carving of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.

Instead, Des offered the Priest ‘a bit on the wall’. This turned out to be almost an entire wall, which is now installed on St Finbarr’s altar, lectern and baptismal font." source 

There is a hospital and a GP and, quite frankly Mr Townie, it beats the pants off the soulless prisons you call hospitals in the city. It is small, friendly and part of the community.

On the downside, it is hot. Stinking hot. But there are things called air conditioners. Admittedly, it is a long way from the beach, as was said a few days ago. But there is always a waterhole, an air conditioner or a cold beer to sate the soul. And a friendly face to share the heat and grin and say " Yeah, mate. This is Australia. "

It is a town with a history and soul and guts and a sense of humour - attributes undervalued in today's modern cynical and selfish world.

It is Quilpie and I will be buggered if the town and its people will be demonised by some twit from Melbourne ridiculing a place that I hold dear in my heart.

It is a place full of love, spirit and tradition. Old fashioned values and the way things used to be. 

No, it is not for the faint of heart. It is not for people who are terrified of their own shadows and run off to get jabbed with an unproven, un-tested so-called vaccine because the government told them to.

It is not for someone who thinks that freedom means having a haircut at midnight on " freedom day " is the best thing that has happened to them and that they are grateful for being ALLOWED to have a shampoo and cut. Or a pedicure. Or a trip to the Melbourne Cup. Or a chance to go to a funeral or have a coffee on a crowded footpath in the middle of a city.

In fact, not only would Mr Townie hate it, but the town would probably tell him to piss off and go back to where he belongs. In the smelly stinking hellhole that is called a city and where flocks of migrants are eagerly embraced and a sky painted pink and grey is a sight that they will never see.

Mr Townie will never understand the joy of seeing the lights of Quilpie on the horizon in the middle of an Outback night; the dance of the Emus as they play chicken in front of an oncoming road train or the wonder of seeing a dust storm roll in like Ayers Rock or the frustration at seeing a well-nurtured garden stripped bare by a plague of locusts.

I suppose Mr Townie doesn't really have the right to call himself Australian if he finds these things so abhorrent. After all, he thinks that Warrnambool is in the bush so maybe the vaccine he adores so much has addled his brain.

To say that the unvaccinated " lepers " should move to Quilpie is a truly strange and disturbing thing to say.

The Great Divide has become even greater and this seemingly snide but foolish statement is more dangerous than many realise.

That our Nation is now divided by state lines, mountain ranges and " vaccine " status is a warning sign that we are in danger of a perilous future. 

The dust storm rolling in is a red flag that we need to be very aware of and wary of. 

To be honest, Quilpie may be the type of place that will be seen as a safe haven when the coast is taken over by the real lepers who lined up, got the shot and volunteered to be guinea pigs to a New World Order, Great Reset and the destruction of society as a whole.

The more I think about it,  the people of Quilpie are some of the last true blue Aussies in Australia. They still value a good feed, a cold beer and free life. If it means taking a bit of heat, it might keep the townies out.

 As I said in my opening comment in an article published here a year ago 

" Living in the real Outback of Australia is like confronting yourself with yourself. Seeing yourself for who you are. It is like meeting yourself as a stranger and wondering if you will like that person. "

 I doubt that Mr Townie would much care for himself if he had to meet himself face to face. 

The man in the mirror is often not at all the person we think we are.

For myself, I stand by what I said in an earlier article when talking about a man from the Channel Country.

"I will never forget the days I spent with him.  On that red and foreign planet ( because to me it was another planet ) where he seemed to move between a rock and a tree and know exactly where he was. "

People in the real bush, the Outback, know exactly who they are and where they are.

Unlike poor Mr Townie who doesn't seem to have a bloody clue. 

Publican Adavale Pub - in the Quilpie Shire

Personally, having met and lived with the people from the Outback, I would take Quilpie over Melbourne any day of the week and tell Mr Townie to bugger off and keep getting his clot shots and leave the rest of us to live life, have a beer, a steak and a laugh. 

You know. that thing we used to call living. Not existing.  If you want to be afraid of something, Mr Townie, try a day in Quilpie after you told its people that it should be a leper colony for the unvaccinated. 

At least, in Quilpie, you still have the right to shoot a feral pig.

 Further reading: