The uni students who participated in the recent party dressed in unacceptable garb, (Weekend Advertiser June 16, 2018), certainly made errors of judgement in dressing that way but to accuse them of “disgraceful acts of racism” is going a bit far.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
That sort of comment would also have to apply to Prince Harry because of his appearance in a gestapo uniform some years ago. I wonder how many people currently believe that his actions then illustrate his beliefs now.
Young people have always done stupid things but should not be stamped as eternally bad because of their actions.
There is no doubt that age assists the development of wisdom but it also sometimes promotes the condition of having a short memory.
Graeme Callander
Wagga
Flaws in the system
Local doctor, Mary Ross, is to nominate to run in the upcoming election and one of her main concerns is health.
What I would like investigated is - why is that doctor's request their patients make a visit, just to have it explained to them that recent test results are clear, then bill them, or the taxpayer, some $80.
If every doctor in NSW (of which there are about 35,000), did this just once a day in a five-day week, the cost to the overtaxed taxpayer would equate to some $14 million a week, or $728 million a year.
Why can't doctors simply phone their clients with the good new?
A vast majority of the patients would not incur any of these costs, however, many would have transport costs eg, taxis, which could be $50 (return), a lot for a pensioner.
I await your reply Doc.
Peter Dolden
Wagga
History repeats, maybe
Julian O’Brien brought back fond memories with the description of the penalty shoot-out that saw Australia progress to the World Cup in 2005 (“Why I blame John Aloisi for the scars on my knees”, June 16).
After slotting the goal, Aloisi ran for his life around the perimeter, stripping off and twirling his jumper in the air like a windmill. Partly celebration, it was also self-preservation because his team-mates were in hot pursuit and, inevitably catching him, he was soon swamped at the bottom of a pile of jubilant Socceroos.
From Melbourne came images of several hundred ecstatic fans who had gravitated to the huge intersection at Flinders Street Station. The pedestrian lights were set to “scramble” so that each time “walk” blinked on hundreds of bodies would dash from each corner to the middle where they shouted, jumped, danced and hugged.
The Old Bill, recognising that this was a demonstration of joy (and probably enjoying themselves as well – judging by their smiles), would amble out with each throng. When the red sign started blinking their job was to tap celebrants on the shoulder, point to a corner and join the general shuffling off.
Everyone then patiently waited at their new corner for the green signal to return and the whole shebang repeated itself time and time again.
It was, indeed, a great day with television images, the like of which are rarely seen, but which I’d love to see repeated this year; and I’m not even a soccer fan.