Arrrgh Messmate. What a mess we do make sometimes!
Tall poppies may well be lopped. Just make sure we only get the weeds, eh? There seems to be more than one author of this strange tirade, a hard copy of which a friend showed me at a party recently in MELBOURNE!
(beware all ye faint of heart!), thinking, quite rightly, that I might derive some amusment, having shared parts of the journeys (voyages?) of the folk scene here in the sin city of the south.
Dear Charlie Noble, you seem like a nice man, so you'd be in no danger here if ever you should visit. Fair dinkum Australians have always resented pommie bastards and yankee knowalls, who "come a-cvilisin' us"
as Henry Lawson put it so aptly in his poem "A word to Texas Jack", all those years ago. The depredations of yer man and his ilk are partly responsible for the tragic state of the folk scene in this country.
As far as I can tell, most of the spurious claims attributed by the writer(s) of the bollard (which I find most amusing, by the way) to the subject, have appeared in print! Hoysed on his own petard, I say.