Darwin Morning Thoughts

Cafe Locked Out on The Road

You never hear much of guardian angels anymore. They were like a passing fad of those who needed to believe that the universe was so interested in them that they were designated a secret friend who, through intuition, that voice in your gut, tried to keep you to your allotted path.

To me, the job used to sound so boring, that I used to joke that the only direction my guardian angel kept trying to direct me too, was under a bus.  Now though (as I watch Meg, a little person smile, as if smiles on her face were now, because of us, rare,) I think the job would be so taxing that her angel would need their own angel, not to lead but rather to console them.

I’m in Darwin. We have four days here to collect stories and prepare ourselves for the next leg of this journey into the darkness between here and home. A darkness that many of our brothers and sisters are determined to hold over us. A darkness under which we find shelter with the candles held by those in our tribe.

I see the painters of darkness on posters. They are smiling as they warn us of Covid, as they continue to sell us their truth that “up is down,” that “left is right,” that this lack of empathy that has infected the land, is actually the work of God.

Maybe this deep sense that all of that is wrong, and that even though we can’t see the destination, we know that we are on the right path, is work of guardian angels. Silent illuminated beings, fighting by side by side with all the member of our besieged tribe.

It’s 5am and still dark. The flying foxes are yet to fly home. I can hear them squabbling, over what? I don’t know, as other birds sing and chatter as if to celebrate the fact that they have survived another night. And this night was warm.

It’s winter here, the dry season they call it, but the air is a warm soup.

In Melbourne, they are waking up under their donnas, wondering whether it’s better to stay there, where as here, I’m topless and pausing only to look at the dark that is still full of some many human qualities that I no longer understand.

Meg, is young, and in order to finish her first year in university where she is trying to become a primary school teacher, she had to take the juice, twice, like so many other Victorians. But Meg, in her early twenties, is only the size of an average seven year old, and after doing lots of her own online research she asked her doctor, “Why do I have to take an adults dose? Don’t you think there is a chance it could affect me, considering my size?” And her doctor replied, and I quote, “I don’t know.”

After the first does she spent a week and half in bed. Now, still suffering from extreme fatigue, she has deferred her study for a year out of fear of the booster and become a hermit. Her words.

In the world that I took for granted would always exist, the medical establishment, and society in general would have said, “of course you don’t have to take it. Your body your choice.”

But in this new human-scape, where the darkness remains even after the sun rises. Where so many hearts appear to beat unaffected by another’s pain, the state politician her mum approached, pleading for sense, for mercy, told her it was a federal issues, before her federal minister went on to inform her that, no, they are wrong, this is an issue for the state.

As I finished writing that paragraph, some strange bird, the likes of which I have never heard, just cried out like it was wailing. Its notes are still hanging in the air, as this darkness silently smothers them.

I was told yesterday too, in another WTF moment, about a woman. A pro jab new mother who now has a new job. Helping her one year old baby, who was born sick, recover from the fact that it has had to have one of its kidney’s removed.  The mother, who is naturally devastated, is still pushing for the rest of the family to get jabbed. Was it the jab? Who knows?

You?

We heard about this baby on this balcony, as we, a small group of unvaccinated people in Darwin prepared to head out for dinner. We were all deeply affected, but as I watched my colleagues shake their heads with their eyes full of disbelief, I wondered again, “are we are the hope for the future, or a flock of soft-hearted dodos, that our culture’s relentless, social evolution has yet to eradicate.”

I hear the calls of our replacements in the comments maybe by the trolls whose indifferent malice I don’t reply to, for they are sung using notes that I don’t want to sing. 

Gunner is gone. Perhaps because he did it, our generous host, who is already preparing to leave Darwin, suggested. The cost of living is so high here that if you don’t have work, you can’t survive, and since Gunner mandates all businesses most of the unvaxxed, must have left. This she said, is a vaxxed city.

She doesn’t know for certain though, because like all endangered and hunted species, our tribe has learned to hide themselves well.

We learned this on the Nullubor. Near the then closed Western Australian Border, we sat on the side of the road watching the roadtrains pass and wondered if we were the only unvaxxed people out here, but at the Nullabor road house we met another leper on the run. The Nullubor Leper.

I don’t now where this piece is going, but maybe that’s correct, for if I was trying to reach a conclusion it would be hope, or even a lie. And I’m sick of lies. I find myself now craving the truth no matter how unbelievable and cruel it is, and now, tragically, how common.

Oh look, here comes the sun. The sky in front of me is being stained red as if some great battle, over the horizon is aflame.

Today we are going to the rally here. Our battle. 

Why? What’s the point, if this city is all vaxxed?

Well perhaps “The Point,” has nothing to do with it.

I have to go. I just know it, and deep inside me my gut instinct, who may or may not have a map it won’t show me, is a peace with this decision.

No. No this was and is my choice.

For a while ago, I decided, that despite the consequences, I would rather die fighting on this hill, once, and on my feet once, rather than die every day, on my knees, in their new, reset world.

And what I write next may sound like delusions of grandeur, but while I do believe, or rather I have an unfathomably deep faith that I have chosen and been accepted to be a Soldier for God,  I also know that if I am delusional, then that is fine too, for in this spreading silent darkness, their definition of insanity is the only illuminated path.  

Michael Gray Griffith

Café Locked Out’s New Goal

The Deplorables Epic Road Trip

The first leg of the tour, from Melbourne to Perth was focused on seeding the hope of Epic in communities around Australia. The method was simple. We'd announce when

we were to arrive in the next town and once there, we'd join a gathering of likeminded people, or those who were just curious and we would invite people from the gathering to be guests.

Separate to this I would also record individual interviews.

This we will continue to do, and not only to document the stories of those Australians the main stream media ignores, but to use their voices to spread hope and courage.

Basically we are in recruitment. We are trying to motivate people to fight for decency, fairness, empathy and freedom.

The question we’re interested in over and above their own stories is, as a community, where are we now? Where are we going? Do we have to go there or are there other options? Options with more freedom.

On this first leg of the journey we quickly discovered that our country is occupied. Silenced by fear, and yet amongst this occupying silence we are uncovering passionate pockets of resistance. People who are busy getting organised. They are sharing ideas, trying to motivate people to come back to the marches and basically holding on to, or rather trying to reclaim the line. People who are deeply concerned about the Government's overreach and direction.

We have also been recording carnage. People everywhere who believe they have been injured, to various extents by the vaccines, and or, who have lost their jobs, friends and family due to the mandates.

None of us can recall a time when our community and culture was facing a more challenging period and this period is clearly far from over.

And on top of this there is the great and growing division .

Now we are setting off again, first to Kalgoorlie, then to Esperance then around the Western coast to Darwin and Finally Mount Isa. The last stop on this tour’s second leg.

Café Locked Out’s The Deplorables Epic Road Trip

Traveling Australia capturing the truth of Australians everywhere for Australians everywhere.

If you'd like to help support Cafe Locked Out to keep it on air please donate here.

Donate to help Cafe Locked Out Here: https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=RLS4L26L4SG66