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A plague of enyots

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Warning;  Contains one naughty word necessary to tell the story.
Mrs GOF’s father was caught between two worlds. Born in a remote village in New Guinea he was deprived of a formal education so he chose to relocate his young family by overland trek to Pindiu, a Government outpost where all his children could attend an English curriculum school.

He had extraordinary linguistic abilities. Speaking five languages fluently he also had a working knowledge of two more. After moving to Pindiu he started adding a few English words to his vocabulary. Most came from overhearing his kids chattering after school, or listening to the more colourful language being used by the Australian Patrol Officers for whom he worked as a labourer and translator.

He did not understand the dictionary meaning of these words and sometimes his pronunciation went awry. For example ‘idiot’ always came out as ‘enyot‘. I suspect the older siblings might have been complicit in ensuring the mispronunciations continued because they still tell funny stories about it today long after their dad has passed away.
“You enyots” was his reprimand for minor childhood transgressions, but more serious breaches elicited a bellowed “You fukkin enyots“. In his mind, these words meant simply “You naughty children”.

For nigh on twenty years Mrs GOF and I have had a market stall selling plants at the annual Father’s Day street carnival at the Cairns Botanic Gardens. For most of this time the smooth operation of the event was a credit to Betty, a matronly volunteer who toddled around with a clipboard, pen and a welcoming smile. Life was good back then.

A few years ago the Cairns City Council took over management of the event and replaced Betty with an assortment of overpaid tertiary-educated bureaucrats who abolished common sense and progressively turned administrative stupidity into an art form.

This year, applications and communications could only be made online.
We will not be allowed to participate unless we take an entire day off from our farm work and drive four hours to Cairns to participate in a mandatory induction course to learn about the workplace health and safety implications of setting up a market tent.

It’s being conducted this morning.  Goodness gracious me we’re going to miss out.
I refuse to enable any of these fukkin enyots to gain a foothold in my life.


About GOF

"Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it, depends upon what you put into it." (Tom Lehrer)

20 responses »

  1. Hmmm … is it coincidental that one of the few English words YOUR father-in-law knew was “enyot?” Me thinks not, lol.

    The situation with the carnival is ridiculous. At the least you’d think there would be a ‘grandfather clause’ for those who’ve participated before to not have to attend any stupid meetings. Bureaucracy at its finest!

    • Nice thought process GOM, but this was long before I entered the scene. 🙂

      One other justification for their ‘induction’ was that we could meet our stall neighbours……for cryin’ out loud, we’ve been ‘meeting’ the same ones every year since Adam was a little boy.

  2. I “liked” it because you are not bowing to the fukkin’ enyots. But, the sad thing is, the world seems to becoming overrun with fukkin’ enyots everywhere we turn.
    What will become of us?

    • I’ll just bet you cannot wait to get to work tomorrow and start calling people “enyots.”

      Me too, lol.

      • It’s a catching word GOM…..Mrs GOF and I use it several times every day (not to each other…..yet) ….there are a lot of enyots in the world.

    • I’ll never bow to any of these enyots so long as I am physically and mentally able to resist the bastards. (Remember the other enyots 3 years ago that tried to put a water meter and charge me for water I use from the dam that I built and supplied through the pump and pipes that i installed)

      Sadly as I age and lose my facilities (and faculties) I’ll probably have to put up with more and more of this bureaucratic rubbish.

  3. Bah!

    Firstly, I’m with Grandpa Mrs GOF.

    I think this nonsense happens many places and often continues too long.

    I’d live to share at least 1 example but srsly who gives a crap (when asked how my day at work went,!if I’m very close to you, I’ll say, ‘like I give a shit?’ Really meaning, ‘I have no control of these fukkin enyots, did my best and let’s not give it another thought.’

    Your case is fresh shit, so for that I’m truly sorry.

    I don’t know if a letter explaining your operation versus the modernity they’re expecting would do any good but I think if you have the time it may be cathartic.

    You’re extremely well worded.

    I don’t know if it would illicit change for next year but maybe it might give them pause for concern to others.

    Right, I’ll give a brief example: work stopped making catalogues this year. They send email ‘blasts’ and reckon ‘everybody today has a smartphone or iPad and will click on the links to go to the site anyway.’

    I do not doubt this saved money printing & shipping THOUSANDS of books. I do know our orders continue to drop off and about 1/4 of calls I take (in my less than 1 month of customer service PLUS my old job) in THE EIGHTH MONTH OF 2014) are ppl complaining about no catalogue or asking why they didn’t receive one.

    Times are changing but perhaps not 100% in 2014.


    • Thanks for your stories about all the enyots that you have to put up with MT. I am able to avoid many of them by living and working in the bush. Unfortunately you have to work in town and put up with them on a daily basis.

      I considered attempting to reason with these dimwits, but it’s obvious from the way they’re treating us that their little bureaucratic empire is more important than the problems they cause to inferior stallholders like us. It is also increasingly obvious that Australian public servants domiciled in cities have no knowledge or consideration for those of us who choose to live in the bush.

      Mrs GOF recently applied to renew her passport….used to be easy to get a form via local Post Office. Now only available online and they refuse to send the form to a PO Box….only a residential address. Right!! Now how the shit do they figure we’ll get the form when our nearest mail delivery service is 20km away. Enyots! Stupid. Ignorant. Dumb, and they don’t give a rat’s arse about people in rural areas.

      Here endeth my rant for the day. Hope you’re having a pleasant evening my fellow rural friend. 🙂

  4. Good for you. Stand by your principles.

    But if you do find it necessary to participate in such ridiculous charades for the sake of earning a living, I highly recommend sitting in the back row with the other delinquents and making fun of all the proceedings.

    “If you haven’t anything nice to say, come sit next to me and we’ll make fun of everyone together.”

    • Thank you for your sensibility and wisdom Kim. Sadly I could not be so gracious…or amused…..I’d be more inclined to take my chain saw and clear-fell everything in the botanic gardens, so it’s probably best I have a Xanax, a lie down, and put all this rubbish behind me. Financially we’ll be better off going to another market on the same day anyway.

  5. When I first read the title I assumed “enyots” was the plural of Enya. I’m glad to be so humorously taught otherwise. Enyot will now be my word of the day.

    • It’s a very catchy word Lance….and you’ll probably find lots of opportunities to use it. 🙂

      Oh, and there’s nothing ‘enyot’ about Enya…..I love her haunting melodies.

  6. What a load of humbuggery! Bureaucracy and red tape will be the death of us all. 😦

  7. When I was employed doing IT audits for Victorian Secondary schools I needed to check the top of the server cabinet and asked if they had a step ladder handy. The reply came back “have you done the Health and Safety course? ”

    My supplementary question “Is it a 2 day course? ” was rightly ignored.

    When certain pollies start using terms like Team Australia I know we are about to get a bureaucratic bath. 😦

    • Thanks Peter for your story. I can scarcely believe all the stupidity faced on a daily basis by both my blog and real-life friends. It’s no wonder that Australia produces bugger-all exportable goods these days. India and China must be delighted to watch us slowly disappear up our own bureaucratic backside.

      I don’t belong in this world of idiocy, but I’m running out of places to hide.

  8. Love the word. I was fortunate enough to meet a Portuguese gentleman on St Thomas who taught me some choice curse words in languages the average American xenophobic boss might not understand (although caution is always in order).

    Those city managers who took over are vile. I hope you write to tell them what they’ve chosen to lose, with dollar signs attached as it’s the only language they understand.

    • Thanks Emmy. I’ve spoken to a stallholder who actually went to the induction course. Many participants complained about how they were being treated…..the only response was “these are the rules, if you don’t like them then go away.”

      You can’t reason with people like that. They’re public servants and draw wages every week regardless so economics doesn’t matter to them. We’ve got another market we can go to, so with a final very tersely worded email I will close my botanic gardens chapter.

      • I’d be happy to write them as a “potential foreign visitor” omitting where I’d heard of this debacle, to tell them I won’t be supporting any venue that treats its farmers like crap and neither will any of my other card-carrying American friends.

        • Thank you for your very kind offer Emmy, but I think we would be best advised to just let them wallow in their little bureaucratic mire. In the overall scheme of things the managers are just inconsequential little twerps. 🙂


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