by Eddie

On grammar and radicalisation

No, it's Romani ite domum

No, it’s Romani ite domum

Some snotty-nosed brat in Sydney imagined he could stir up his teachers by writing ISIS R COMING ISIS on his school wall. How important he must feel, now that his infantile prank has hit national headlines.

We at Dodgy Perth naturally deplore his horrendous action. Like the words ‘government’, ‘committee’ and ‘team’, ISIS is a collective and therefore takes the third-person singular form of a verb. The correct graffiti is, therefore, ISIS IS COMING ISIS. Now write that out 100 times before dawn.

Which vaguely reminds us of this for some reason:

Anyway, Dodgy Perth would like to take this opportunity to expose the evil radicalisation that went on in our Perth schools. We refer, of course, to the Scouting movement.

Scouts. Seems all very innocent, doesn’t it? Sitting around a camp fire with a marshmallow on a stick and singing Ging Gang Gooley. But it wasn’t like that a hundred years ago.

In 1915, the Scout movement boasted it was bringing up a generation of boys who were well-drilled, healthy through rigorous training, and “well-disciplined and taught to obey”.

The Western Australian Governor repeated this to the young scouts themselves, reminding them that they should cultivate their intelligence, train their bodies, and to learn the value of “discipline and obedience to command”.

Founder of the Scouts, Baden Powell, recommended that every Australian boy aged between 11 and 14 needed to be prepared for a life to be spent fighting the Chinese and the Japanese invasion. His movement was the ideal place to place to instil self-restraint (read: no playing with your genitals), military training and sense of duty.

The problem, said Baden Powell, was that Australian youth were spirited and self-reliant, so action was needed now otherwise there was a risk of bringing up a nation of boys able to think for themselves. And these kids would not make obedient soldiers come the inevitable Asian invasion.

Dodgy Perth would also like to remind readers that during the Nuremburg Trials, the creator of the Hitler Youth, Baldur von Schirach, boasted that all of his ideas came straight from the Scouting movement. And it’s not hard to see this was true.

So before we get too excited about radicalisation, let’s remember that someone has always tried to mould kids into their image. And kids, being kids, have always ignored them.

by Eddie

Rotto and Rocky: Dens of sleaze

90x150mm

Here at Dodgy Perth we have a simple rule to see whether it is acceptable to date someone. Divide your age by two and add seven. If the other person is younger than that, it’s a no go.

This means as soon as you hit 40, you are forbidden from dating anyone under 27. It’s that simple.

The rule was probably not much different in 1931 when a set of 40-something cads were exposed as seducers of teenage girls. They took advantage of owning yachts to invite the young ladies on three day cruises or camping trips.

The youngsters would lie to their parents and claim they were off to Rotto and Rockingham, or another “pleasure haunt”, with their girlfriends. Mum and dad could never believe their innocent daughter would be up to mischief, so saw no cause for alarm.

Immediately after leaving the house the young flapper would catch up with another couple of girlfriends and the three of them would board a large yacht with three middle-aged men as their companions for the weekend.

Many such yachts would be seen moored off Rotto on a long weekend, and with no accommodation on the island, the parties would take place entirely onboard, with much heavy drinking and the inevitable payoff for the elderly vampires.

“Mother thinks we girls are all camping at Rockingham,” giggled one foolish young flapper to a journalist.

Occasionally some of the old Romeos would run into one of the girl’s relatives and this would lead to black eyes and an embarrassed miss being ordered home.

The media blamed the parents, of course, and called for police intervention. As for the men, a sound thrashing was too good for them.

Welcome to holidaying. 1930s style.

by Eddie

The true cost of Kennedy’s Folly

Original Government House, 1861

Original Government House, 1861

The first Governor had a nice place to live, which was built in 1834 for James ‘young brides’ Stirling. But by the 1850s, the new Governor, Arthur Kennedy, whined it was unsuitable and a bit cold in winter. Declining to have it repaired, he demanded a new Government House, more in keeping with the lifestyle to which Arthur wished to become accustomed.

The Government tried to get England to pay for it, but they told us to bugger off. Originally estimated at a massive £5,000, by September 1858 this had risen to £7,000.

Designed by an army major with no training in architecture, a foundation stone was laid in March 1859 with lots of Masonic pomp. The project was then handed over to the Royal Engineers to mismanage. Remarkably the same amateur architect was later tasked with designing an asylum in Fremantle. To no one’s surprise, this was also a disaster.

Costs kept spiralling due to constant indecision and daily changes to the design. No sooner had a wall been erected than it was torn down again for a new idea. After three years labour, the convicts working on the place had made very little progress. People complained there were better things for them to do. Like fix the awful roads.

When a roof was finally put on the building it was nearly a miracle. However, it was far from finished, needing several more towers and an interior.

GovHs_1862

Kennedy’s Folly

In January 1863 it was sufficiently finished to allow for a party in the upstairs ballroom. A ballroom that should not have been there. When the building was nearly complete, the new Governor demanded six rooms be converted into somewhere he and his wife could entertain their cronies.

Completely redesigning the structure of the upper floor was, of course, very expensive and time consuming. And no one remembered that the six rooms were guest bedrooms, so Government House was unable to put up visitors.

In March 1863, it was realised the red brick pillars on the colonnades did not match the stone arches above them. So they started painting the pillars a marble colour.

When the furniture arrived not only was it hideously expensive it was also hideous. And badly made. So yet more money was spent replacing it.

Finally, in mid-1864 the Governor moved into his new residence. By this time more than £18,000 in cash had been spent, along with the wages of the Royal Engineers on the project, so the total cost was nearer £50,000.

When opened for inspection, while the outside was pretty enough, the interior was a disaster. A better building could have been knocked up for under £10,000. It was given the name ‘Kennedy’s Folly’, which is a little unfair. It was so long in construction, Arthur Kennedy had moved on and never even got to look inside.

by Eddie

Dancing, fighting and knickers

Unity Theatre, 1930

Unity Theatre, 1930

In the words of the most influential musicians of the last century, the Spice Girls, “make it last forever, friendship never ends”. Today Dodgy Perth tells the heart-warming story of a friendship that knew no boundaries.

Although once again known as Trades Hall, the Beaufort Street building operated as the Unity Theatre in the 1930s. It was at a dance held there in 1933 that our tale begins.

It should be obvious that two men are not allowed to dance together when partners of the fair sex are available. Not a rule enforced at Connections Nightclub last time Dodgy Perth was there!

But because two young fellows showed scant regard for feminine charms, they decided to dance with each other that Wednesday night.

It must be said that Robert Sleeth and Norman Tindale—aged 20 and 22—had consumed more than a couple of drinks. Perhaps that was the reason for their unorthodox dancefloor moves. Or maybe they just liked grooving with each other.

Whichever, the MC, George Greenway, was having none of it. He told them to dance with the ladies or get off the floor. They resisted, and George told them to sit down and shut up, and began to escort them over to the chairs.

At this point the inebriated Robert took a swing at the MC, knocking him down, breaking his glasses, and causing his nose and face to bleed.

Dances being full of testosterone-fuelled young men, this was all the invitation that a bystander, Norman Mitchell, needed to weigh in. For trying to be a hero, Norm was also punched to the floor, losing blood in the process.

As he got to his feet, other onlookers held him back as he tried to retaliate.

At this point all hell broke loose and the cops were summoned.

PC Trekardo was first on the scene where he found Sleeth and Tindale outside, with their coats off shouting through the door challenging someone to come out and “fight it out like a man”. Boys, eh?

At this point Mitchell, still profusely bleeding, charged through the exit screaming “You punched me” and bravely tried to attack our BFFs. Trekardo arrested all three of them.

Mitchell got off with a caution, while Sleeth and Tindale got two months hard labour in exchange for their Unity Theatre antics.

The next time our besties come to our attention is seven years later. This time they broke into a house at 226 Roe Street, stealing cash, a pair of lady’s pyjamas, a set of lady’s underclothing and a pair of lady’s scanties. All belonging to Gladys Foley.

In case you don’t know, the kind of ladies who worked at that end of Roe Street would probably have owned very attractive scanties and been earning good money for taking them off.

This time our BFFs avoided jail and ended up with a simple fine.

Dancing together, fighting together, and stealing panties together. The kind of things great friendships are made from.

by Eddie

Heinz takes off

autogyro

Nothing makes you look cooler after a death-defying ride in a homemade autogyro than smoking a cigarette afterwards

Helicopters have been in the news over the last week. So we at Dodgy Perth thought we’d try and find out when the first copter flight in WA took place.

But the story was boring. 1935 if you care. Which you don’t.

Instead, we’ll celebrate the eccentricity of William ‘Bill’ Adolphus Heinz, a Carnamah garage owner, who in 1948 claimed he was going to design and built Australia’s first helicopter in his own backyard.

There were, predictably, jokes about whether he’d make 57 varieties of copter. But we at Dodgy Perth are above such cheap shots.

Powered by a 1925 Douglas motorcycle engine, which Bill modified himself, the whole thing was constructed to a completely original design.

Costing just £400 to build, this would be cheaper than five minutes of Bronywn Bishop’s jolly to a fundraiser. It was also going to weigh less than 120kg, around a fifth of a light aircraft like the famous Tiger Moth.

According to media reports, officials from the Department of Air were interested in the project.

But can you always trust your local mechanic? Well, in at least one case, Bill doesn’t seem to be very different from your average repair shop now. By which we mean making “considerable and unwarranted overcharges” on spare parts. And that’s according to a Supreme Court judge. Ouch.

No evidence seems to exist today of Bill’s wonderful invention, and we can find no proof it ever got off the ground. But if you know different, get in touch so a Western Australian aviation milestone can be given due recognition.

by Eddie

The Prince and The Don

The Nawab of Pataudi

The 8th Nawab of Pataudi

It was a horror movie, right there on my TV. We refer, of course, to the so-called English cricket team.

Dodgy Perth has already told the story of the time the English side pretended to be the crew of a meat ship in order to win a game against Wyndham Cricket Club.

So today we look back to 1932 when England played Australia at the WACA and The Don was simply awful. The tour is now remembered as the Bodyline series, but this three-day game took place before the first test in Sydney, so was the first chance to see the visitors in action.

The West Australian Cricket Association brought over five players from the Eastern States, and made up the rest of the team from locals. But what a five: Donald Bradman, Victor Richardson, Stan McCabe, Albert Lonergan and Jack Fingleton.

Trouble was, other than McCabe, none of these batsman could bowl. And, as it turned out, nor could any of the Western Australians. And they were up against Douglas Jardine’s bodyline side.

Our local bowling hero, Richard Bryant, managed to strain his leg early on the first day and had to leave the field. As a consequence, The Don was asked to take his position. Great batsman he might have been, he proved completely unsuited to this new role.

The English played the weak bowling without trouble, getting to 7/583 before becoming bored and offering the Aussies a go on the Saturday morning.

Trouble was, overnight rain made the wicket treacherous and this was where Hedley Verity was lethal. His left handed slow style made the ball fizz and kick off the pitch, and he was practically unplayable.

You want proof? Donald Bradman (c. Hammond b. Verity) scored three in the first innings. We’d like to repeat that. Three.

The huge crowd was completely unimpressed with the Australian batting display and made their feelings known. By the time the side was all out for 159, the follow on was inevitable.

The Australians responded defensively with slow, unattractive batting, and stretched out a tedious draw with 4/139. This time The Don outdid himself and got 10 (c. Pataudi b. Allen).

But some things never change. When the star player was caught in the second innings, large numbers decided they’d had enough and left the WACA. Some latecomers decided not to even bother buying a ticket when they heard Bradman was out.

And who was this Pataudi who caught Bradman, and scored 129 in the first innings?

Iftikhar Ali Khan (1910–1952) was the 8th Nawab of Pataudi and later captain of India. Known as ‘Pat’ to his English friends, Nawab is a title given to Muslim princes.

He had scoring strokes, a strong defence, quick footwork, and, above all, patience (a test match essential). Perhaps what England now needs is another empire from which they can grab great cricketers. And they need it bloody quick.

by Eddie

On racist cows and racist folk

Halal, is it meat you're looking for?

Halal, is it meat you’re looking for?

The suave, sophisticated types of Reclaim Australia have taken to the streets to deliver their message of peace, love and understanding this weekend. Dodgy Perth would like to offer the following contribution to their brave stance for intercultural harmony.

As far back as 1887 it was realised that Western Australia’s future would depend on our neighbours, and not just England. In particular, this meant doing business with Singapore.

Western Australian beef and lamb was much desired there, and live exports could begin immediately. Bizarrely, however, there was resistance from some Singaporean butchers to dealing with Aussie bullocks. They claimed our cattle were racist and would attack non-Europeans.

We suggest there is more to this than meats the eye (see what we did there?). Perhaps the local butchers did not want to disrupt their existing relationships with suppliers.

The main ship to conduct the trade was the newly constructed Australind. The owners considered having a built-in freezer for frozen meat, but abandoned the idea because it was too high a cost to run refrigerated receiving depots at both Singapore and Java.

In any case, since most of the consumers were Muslim, the frozen meat trade was hampered by the need for it to be halal. One enterprising steamer running between Java and Queensland had already invested in having a Muslim priest and butcher on board who did the slaughtering with all the necessary rites.

It took Western Australia a long, long time to catch up with Queensland’s halal certification scheme. This was a shame, since other states, including South Australia, were eyeing up the market, and a lack of action would cause a loss of jobs.

Other WA exports were less successful. Singaporeans were quite snobby about their horses, and they considered West Australian horses pathetic. Too weedy and not of sufficiently good breed, it was said.

Also, in the late 1880s a previous successful product, sandalwood, was becoming less and less desired. The major purchasers were the Chinese community in Singapore, who needed the wood for incense burners. However, the young Chinese preferred smoking cigars, drinking champagne and riding fast horses, to worshipping at a temple. So the market for sandalwood had collapsed.

So, exporters have known for more than 128 years that the market drives the product. If Southeast Asia want halal meat, then halal meat is what we must provide for them. Also, we need better horses. And more devout Chinese people.

The last one is a little tricky, but we’ll see what we can do.

by Eddie

Reclaiming our multicultural history

Construction of Rivervale Mosque, 1973 (courtesy of ICWA)

Construction of Rivervale Mosque, 1973 (courtesy of ICWA)

A Blessed Eid al-Fitr to all Dodgy Perth Muslim readers.

To acknowledge the long-standing role of the Muslim community in Western Australia we present four articles from our back catalogue:

Halal, is it meat you’re looking for?

Peace, love and barbies

White Australia, I could be one of your kids

Islamophobia, 1832 style

After two centuries, you’d think we’d have made some progress by now. Wouldn’t you?

by Eddie

Genuine fakes

fake_plastic_food

Tastier than what we’re serving tonight

Following on from yesterday’s money-saving tips, here are a load of things we will no longer need to buy in the Dodgy Perth household. We particularly like the fake bones in the goose.

(Still no sign of Mrs Dodgy Perth giving us back our credit card, but we remain optimistic.)

MOCK GOOSE (1917)

Put one pint of dry breadcrumbs into a saucepan with a pint of water. Stir until boiling hot. Take from the fire, add six hard-boiled eggs chopped fine, one pint of chopped walnut, one pint of cold boiled rice, one tablespoon of salt, one tablespoon each of grated onion and powdered sage. Mix well and then stir in three well-beaten eggs. Place an oiled paper in a baking tray.

Form the mixture into the shape of a goose, reserving a portion for legs and wings. Put the ‘goose’ on the paper, form the legs, and put in each a piece of dry macaroni for the bone and press them against the body of the goose. Form the wings likewise and press them down near the back on the paper.

One hour before serving brush the ‘goose’ with melted butter, dust thickly with breadcrumbs, bake in a quick oven one hour, basting two or three times with melted butter. In carving cut off legs and slice body crosswise.

MOCK FISH (1945)

Grate 3 raw potatoes, add an egg, salt and pepper to taste. Beat altogether, and fry until nicely browned.

MOCK CHICKEN SANDWICHES (1945)

One tomato and a little sugar in winter, 2 tablespoons grated cheese, 1 teaspoon butter, 2 tablespoons bread crumbs, and a little onion, pinch of herbs, pepper and salt.

Mix all together, and beat in one egg. Put on fire, and stir until thick, then let get cold. This, made into sandwiches, is a great favourite with everyone. Apparently.

MOCK APRICOT JAM (1920)

Wash and scrape carrots and then cut in fine rings. Cover with water, and boil till soft.

For each cup of pulped carrots use 1 cup sugar and ½ lemon. The sugar and pulp must be boiled until it jellies.

by Eddie

Recipes from the Depression

depression-bread-line

The Dodgy Perth team queues for lunch

Mrs Dodgy Perth has asked us to tighten our belts a little. Apparently we have been ordering far too many Margaret River reds, and eating out should be a little more Dominos and a little less Fraser’s.

Naturally we have taken this command well and not over-reacted at all. Which is why from now on Mrs Dodgy Perth will be eating only Depression Era food at home until she admits she is being unreasonable.

So until we get our credit card back the following 1932 recipes are all we are prepared to serve.

MOCK CREAM

You know what it’s like. Guests come round unexpectedly. You open up the special can of fruit salad you’ve been saving for an exciting desert. Suddenly the full horror hits. You can no longer afford cream.

Panic no more.

Put one cup of milk on to boil. While boiling, moisten a dessertspoon of cornflour with a little milk. Then stir the moistened cornflour into the milk and cook for three minutes, stirring all the time.

Place in a basin to cool, and, while so doing, beat a dessertspoon of butter and a tablespoon of sugar to a cream with a wooden spoon.

Stir in the cornflour very gradually, one tablespoon at a time. The ‘cream’ will then materialise.

SALMON PIE

Since you can no longer look forward to a nice piece of fish each Friday, you’ll have to make do with tinned salmon.

Open a tin of red salmon, and empty into a pie dish liberally smeared with butter. Smash up the bones and distribute any juice from the can. Season with pepper and salt, and even off the surface.

Layer with slices from two hard-boiled eggs and cover with a white sauce. Lastly, put on a heavy layer of breadcrumbs, and dot over with small pieces of butter. Place in a hot oven and bake until brown. This will take about half an hour.

Serve with mashed potatoes and peas.