It's bulldust, cur!

The world takes on a different view through the dry swirling red bull-dust of outback Queensland. Leisurely is the only way to describe internet connectivity based on an aging network of copper wire.

Well, if the average local cared about the internet they might have a few more choice descriptions. They do have a way with words.

Having finally loaded London’s Telegraph I was delighted to see a British government minister commenting on the honours system; the Sirs and Lords etc.

"The sale of honours by political parties is a public nuisance but it is one which the voters have put up with for 200 years. It does not make it right but it needs to be seen in context," says a senior Labour MP.

That is something they’ve understood for 200 years or more here is the outback; the land best known around the world for that itinerant sheep shearer who hung himself by a billabong, of Waltzing Matilda’ fame.

Now the typical squatter in that song was might well have carried a title, even a minor honour, but he was a thieving murderous bastard, and everyone knew there was no honour in him.

Out here Sir is synonymous with Cur, a bit of envy perhaps, but no ready fawning over these dubious titles purchased of the sweat of the labourers. Out here you earn you respect and honour, and that can take a lifetime. It really is about how you treat your neighbours.

As to the “Queensland’ and her (the queen) notional ownership of the land, one aborigine once summed it up beautifully: ‘If Mrs Queen can find the bloody waterholes she can have the bloody land!” It is all about survival in a harsh environment.