Better at Surviving the Apocalypse

All the news is bad and I watch too many Zombie apocalypse movies… but, over the last few years a truck just ran through a crowd in France killing people (I was going to say including women and children but aren’t all lives valued the same – probably not?), a car in Melbourne did the same… and man with a knife etc etc etc…..   (Just a little fun fact about a few people dying from terrorists and a few crazies…. anyone remember the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami which killed over 240,000 people in 14 countries…..  can’t stop that one with a taser and a trolly!) 

I don’t think there is a great likelihood of there being a Zombie apocalypse or evil virus designed to wipe out the human race – but, I am sure there is some sort of war going on against us – and I mean all of us.  Plus, danger appears to be everywhere.

I am angry that the world is becoming (or is it just appearing to be…) such an unsafe and dangerous place, for us all to live in.  I write posts, I espouse threats, theories and rhetoric in the pub every chance I get, I like Facebook post that are angry,  and I get angry at the News (even though I have vowed to stop watching the it!)

But…. the big ‘but’ here is that I can do something about it; the other ‘but’ is I must decide what it is I am going to do – I have to have a plan.  So:

  1. I can decide to make a real difference, which would entail me dedicating my life to righting all these wrongs and really doing something about it.  I can join a lobby, protest and/or militant group to fight back.  I can run for politics and stand up.  I must be dedicated and fight with all I have, I mean everything – all else in my life must become secondary – to not do this just makes me another keyboard or pub warrior not making a difference but just making a noise….or
  2. I can do what I can and try and live my life the best I can.  What is doing what I can.  First of all it is stop talking and start doing, start paying attention to all the things I see in the world that make me crazy and start realising that it doesn’t all really mean anything until it happens to me, in my life, at my doorstep, to my family, to my friends (only close friends mind you!) – and, most of all be prepared (just like a Boy Scout).
  3. I can do nothing.

Interlude:  I got a little excited being a dooms dayer and realise I actually don’t really think this way all that much anymore…. this is one of my ‘draft posts‘ that I started after the truck ran through the crowd in France.  I was angry that anyone would do this…. and I was angry that this truck travelled over a kilometre and was crashing into cars, buildings, posts (and people) and still, people at the 900 metre mark were run over by SURPRISE (!) when the truck came up behind them.  I was angry at them for dying.  I was angry for them dying so badly.  Yeah, the first few hundred metres you can expect that people were  unexpecting….  but hundreds of metres later, with crashing and screaming and dying….  people were still oblivious to a truck smashing down a pedestrian walkway towards them – even if it was from behind….  I actually wonder how many died looking at their phones trying to start their video app so they could capture whatever was happening….   I think they just died badly… and worse…. oblivious and without really putting up a fight!

Interlude II :  I do feel sorry for all the people who have died in these terrible violent incidents we seem to be plagued with in our modern world…. but, just to put all that into perspective we ARE – read the following as a fact; you can research it and find I am right even if the media (the Merchants of Misery) don’t want you to think it….  we ARE living in the SAFEST, MOST PROSPEROUS, HEALTHIEST, period in human history – not just recent times, or centuries, but EVER! (CLICK HERE for a good article about the statistics involved).  So why are we all so afraid and convinced the world in on the brink of apocalypse….?

So where was I before the interlude(s)…..

I was going to attempt to survive the apocalypse, although it is unlikely it will happen, I still would not like to die oblivious and wearing my life jacket when the ship sinks.

Some years ago two of our children were involved in serious ‘survival’ situations that they were lucky to get out of, relatively unscathed…..  I thought, I am the doomsday prepper from way back, yet could not help my children when they needed me the most.  Why?  Because I wasn’t there and I had always planned on talking to them about ‘survival situations’ tomorrow….  well that day came, and guess what?  It caught us all by surprise!

So the next Christmas I gave the all the kids ‘survival packs’ for their cars…  Yes, I know it sounds crazy and paranoid, but they all carry them in their cars – and they love them, and they show their friends.

The packs have first aid, a few space blankets, some tools etc etc – the content is not really as important as the message.  …. and as a matter of fact the packs do contain a message in the form of the “Survival Manifesto”.  This is a short document which is the most important survival ‘tool’ in the pack.  It is a really simple message of staying alive when things go wrong by following the “Four Rules of Survival’:



I have noticed that when I ask people what is the first rule of survival, nobody gets it.

We often think of all those wonderful tips and tricks on the TV about survival, like building a fire, finding shelter, finding water etc etc – most of which most of us can’t really do in real life, in the real bush, in a real survival situation.

The one thing we never think about is not getting in that situation in the first place.

Now of course, this doesn’t help in surviving the apocalypse – because I am sure when it comes, the apocalypse that is, it will be beyond our control…. but most things in our day to day lives, even in those little moments which change the course of our lives, often, all we have to do is take a moment and think…. is this really a good idea?

Both situations involving my children could have been avoided, or at the very least minimised, if the first and perhaps the second rule of survival had been followed….

Also, survival as you can see is not about being able to build a hut from your boot laces and a mars bar wrapper – it is more about what is going on inside your head.

I know one thing.  The giving of the ‘eye rolling’ gift of the survival packs to my children and the highlighting of the above four rules make my kids, and me, and perhaps even you now that you have read this, more likely to survive ‘that situation’ (or perhaps even avoid it) than the vast majority of the world, who not only die, but unfortunately die badly and dumb.

I might write a few more articles about surviving the apocalypse from the ‘manifesto’ – but then again when times get tough, food is scarce and the shit has hit the fan, perhaps if there were less of us it would be easier…..

PS:  Statistically…..  if it is ‘every man for themselves’ usually 90 to 100% of people die – yet when everyone works together 90 to 100% survive….. can anyone guess what we humans do in 90% of survival situations……?  (I didn’t make this up and if you are interested a great book to read about historical survival situations is: “No Mercy – True Stories of Disaster, Survival and Brutality” by Eleanor Learmonth and Jenny Tabakoff)

 

 

Better Brevity….

I am verbose.  I just can’t help it.  My kids tell me, my wife tells me …. and my mates just walk off or hang up, after saying “I’m bored.”

I read my wife my blogs and she just about always says “Yeah, I like it but….”

If you are a smart man you know the ‘but‘ will always undo any good work you have done!

So, taking advice is one of the hardest things in the world to do – especially if it involves changing something that you like to do – for me one of those things is exposing my knowledge to everyone about everything (asked for or not… e.g. this blog), telling stories (usually as pointed out again by my wife, having only a slight resemblance to actual events), ‘helping’ people by telling them what to do (see above… I hate this as well!) and writing pages of what I believe are profound words never before experienced by my hungry for knowledge and appreciative readers….. (?!)

My wife says these things are all okay, as with all things men do, requiring modification at their wife’s ‘suggestion‘ so that the man she never wanted to change when she married him, changes to the way he will find his life the happiest – I hate ‘happy wife, happy life’ but how true is it!

For me, at the moment that is brevity.

Making the verbose brief.  The profound short.  Stories to the point and unexaggerated – most are good in original form anyway.  ….. and a phrase in any marriage listen to often by the men, but never to be uttered – ‘get to the point!’

It’s happening now – I am being verbose in my brevity.

So, my posts will be shorter.  Like this one.

Better All Tech Marine – Renmark

Blatant Advertisement!

I hate shit service and most of life when you look at it, involves various degrees of shit service.  (I am writing another post called “Better with Bullshit ” about all the unbelievable things happening in our world – some of which is that ‘service’ in all forms is a thing of the past – yet we all just tolerate it….  I am not publishing that today because I just wanted to write something positive!)

This is a blatant advertisement for a local business here in the Riverland at Renmark because they know about customer service – All Tech Marine Services.

There is a back story to this and that is my little boat ‘el deso’ – I semi inherited this boat from my old mate Des when he shuffled from this mortal coil a few years ago (read about Des in my post “Better with Des Steele, my friend“).  It is not a big boat, or a great boat, or a fast boat or in fact a particularly pretty boat, but it is a boat that Des used to ‘take on holidays’ with our mate Puk (we always said that he took it on holidays because they used to tow it to various locations and decide that each day was better spent filled with ‘a fair component of fuck all’ as opposed to all the trouble of boating and fishing – gotta love that philosophy!).

So, one thing about ‘el deso’ is that it is all about the sentiment.  Which of course makes you vulnerable to spending money out of that sentiment instead of out of any thought of sensibility and practicality….

Now ‘el deso’ is a bit old.  I think around a 1978 Rover hull and until recently the loudest pre-mix 2 stroke Mariner motor on the market – I think about the same vintage, or even older than the hull.  All Tech Marine had managed to salvage the motor once buy actually making a part for the motor when they couldn’t source it anywhere in Australia – and even on that occasion came in under the price they quoted me.

 

So we get to the last few weeks.  The motor again had a ‘few glitches’ and parts were just not available.  I spoke to the guys at All Tech Marine and set a budget and asked if they could source a motor suitable for good old ‘el deso’….  a week or so later (with a few updates per phone during that period) Paul contacted me – almost as excited as me!  …. he had found a motor, had to get it shipped here and managed to do a deal with a mate… etc etc…. it was a long story and involved his personal commitment to getting the job done in budget: actually it was a pretty cool story involving his contacts for my benefit….

New motor, new Bimni (fitted and better and cheaper than all the others I had been looking at on the internet….)…. and the motor, fitted, with new controls and even for the first time a few gauges in the dash which told me what was actually happening back there!

So, why the big deal about getting service that you expect.  Because we always expect it but rarely get it!  The team at All Tech Marine felt like mates doing me a favour!

Yeah, I paid.  But, I paid a fair price and more to the point I was happy as a pig in shit with everything.  I could have been taken advantage of over ‘sentiment’ and they knew this, but actually did the opposite and could understand that sometimes ‘important’ has a different meaning…

So ‘el deso’ hit the water again a few days ago – I even took the wife!  …. we were going to go fishing, take it for a trial burn up and down the river…. and then we decided to spend a moment thinking about my old mate Des, being a bit grateful for a business that ‘gets’ that some boats are a little more than water transport… and filled the majority of the day with ‘a fair component of fuck all….’

 

Better Weathering the Storm

I read some time ago that emotions are actually physical reactions, hardwired into us, whether it be genetically or from the reprogramming of our life experience…. I believe this.

Your ‘physical emotion’ then is perceived by your brain and an interpretation made….  this is individual.

If someone is tailgating me – my emotion is anger…. if someone is tailgating my wife – her emotion is nervousness.  Upon our brain interpreting the physical emotion we then create the feedback loop to our body of that interpretation – the body reacts to that, and then we escalate our physical response and the cycle continues.

If you catch your body providing you with an emotion, and you catch your mind making the learned interpretation… maybe it won’t be the same learned interpretation this time.

Maybe that anger at the tailgater can be seen differently…

“Shit, where did he come from.  Is that arsehole close enough.  That prick. I’ll fucking show him…….    Hang on buddy!  A minute ago I was driving to the shops and looking forward to a coffee – what has changed?  The way I am looking at it.  I am not actually angry….  Okay mate, you’re up my arse – for whatever reason, I’m sure its not going to affect my day I was enjoying 1 minute ago.  I’m slowing down, pulling to the side, way you go…. okay, thanks for the finger and mouthing of ‘fuck head’……   now where was I.  Oh, yeah, I think I’ll have a donut with my coffee….”

…. and you beat the body emotion.  It is gone… it is like a magic trick we were never taught and never knew how the rabbit got into the hat and suddenly found out.  It can’t be that easy – but it is.  It is will, and surrender – the will to do it and the surrender of a grievance whether real or imagined.  ….. and like magic I am on my way to a coffee and donut and looking forward to another stamp on my coffee card.

Sometimes we all feel to much – our bodies feel too much about too little and our mind get it wrong.

I wrote a little think to myself the other day about anxiety and depression….

You feel too much…

You appreciate your life too much…

You love too much…

You love the things and people in your life too much….

You actually feel too much about being alive….

It overwhelms you: life.

…. and in doing so;

You become overwhelmed and not overjoyed;

You think you are wrong in it;

Wrong for it;

It is you who is wrong and not worthy of this wonder.

And this, these thoughts,
Stop you from moving past the overwhelming into the joy of it all.

You have to weather this avalanche of emotion,
connection..
concern..
involvement…
and insight…
to peacefulness.

Through to peacefulness,
Through the moment.

How?
Through meditation – but, if that doesn’t come to you,
Through taking each moment in the moment without reaction;  weathering the storm without resistance,
Not tightening the sails against the wind or fighting the rudder – but running with it.

Run with the wind,
Surf down the face of the waves,
Breach the breaks,
and appreciate the troughs.

Why?
Because the storm will pass.
You will forget the storm.
The storm will never have happened except within yourself.
It was a dream you created…
… and when the calm comes;
… when the peacefulness engulfs you.

The anxiety never was; the depression imaginary.

Better at “Playing for Keeps” – TV Bullshit

Sorry this is not a post about anything profound like actually ‘playing for keeps!”

It is me getting sucked into the world created by television and the media (the Merchants of Misery – by the way I will keep using this term until it is accepted into the Australian Webster dictionary as the alternative name for the media….).

The other day I accidentally watched the news, and went mental – then today I accidentally watched and advertisement ….. I am so dumb!!!

I saw the advertisement for a new TV series ‘Playing for Keeps’ about to premier on Channel 10 – of fuck, I just realised this entire blog will now be considered another advertisement for the show!!!

Apparently the series is about WAGS – wives and girlfriends of AFL football players – I hate the fact that they even have their own acronym!  Why? Why? Why? I ask are they so important, or important enough to have their own TV series… even imaginary as it is.

Yes, I know we will all be entertained and wonder at the bitchiness of the characters and even be able to name them and discuss their interactions and relationships by the end episode one…. but, why.

Why?  Because this is the world the media wants you to wish you had.  this is the life that is supposed to be normal and sought after.  Being rich, being famous, being glamorous, being in the lime light….  if you are not this and not wanting to be this, you are not striving for the right things.  this is just so much fucking bullshit it makes me sick.

It is none of us, most of us will never be it, and those that do are living the lie that was created so that we could all want it too.

Are we that stupid to think that any of this matters.  Are the WAGS as important as the players – are the players even important – is the game even important.

Don’t get me wrong here, I love the footy – it is the great Australian game and my wife and I sit down to watch it… ( admittedly she is actually a greater fan than me – she does barrack for Port Power so need I say any more…!) and we even go to the games when we can – it is great entertainment…. nobody dies (only occasionally and that is a little sad… and dare I say unlucky!)…  the world is not changed by the outcome of a game of footy – and the world is most definitely not changed by what some WAG wears on the red carpet – why do we even have that – why do you watch it?

So, “Playing for Keeps’ does have some truth in its title.  It is getting us all to put all our hopes and dreams into things that will define our futures, that is playing for keeps, but it is all lost in a fantasy that has been sold, reinforced, made the most desirable thing, which are not the things that matter….  you are the medias puppet in your desires.

Plus, think for a moment those that really do play for keeps – our soldiers, our emergency service members – not some fucking footballers ex-groupie now wife! (PS:  I am sure there are some wonderful ‘WAGS’ out there who fully support their partners and create wonderful families and lives and contribute to the community – bet they are not depicted in this series!)

Yes, I watch TV – yes, I get sucked into Survivor, The Bachelor etc etc etc……

But, I know it is not true.  I know my life, my hopes, my dreams, my desires must be more than a moment of fame, recognition, glamour, possessions and bad relationships in a fake world.

I haven’t mentioned in my last couple of posts this is all about my quest to be a ‘better man’ – it is a hard task as I get pissed off about so many things.

Perhaps my ‘playing for keeps’ is knowing that you don’t get reruns, a take 2, or often a second chance – with that knowledge I know that I wont waste a minute on wanting something, watching something, or believing that something is good or bad because someone else tells me so – especially when they are trying to sell me something at the same time.

NO SALE sorry.

(PS: Apologies for the typos, spelling mistakes and sentences that don’t make sense – I wrote this in a frenzy and then realised I’d rather be in the shed doing shit so just pressed ‘post this shit’ – it’s a special button I have on my computer!)

Better at Being Confused

I spend most days confused – some of this confusion is no doubt due to the inordinate amount of beer I drink and believe I can dance and sing better than you (and I am willing to prove it!) – but, mostly it is because I don’t understand most things going on in the world.

I once heard a defendant answer a question put to them by a Judge during a trial where the defendant was pointlessly giving evidence in a trial he was destined to lose, when asked could he explain why several witnesses, one who knew him personally had identified him as the perpetrator – to which he replied:     “It’s a mystery to me Your Honour?”

The world is becoming a mystery to me.  Some time ago I was advised by my wife that watching the news on TV was not good for my (and her) peaceful co-existance; as yelling at the TV and saying everything was bullshit was not considered constructive criticism or polite debate – I would eventually yell, this is fucking bullshit, they are this, they are that, etc etc, and storm out and go and drink beer in the shed.

Suddenly it all made sense to me when I hear Denzel Washington being interviewed where he said:

“If you don’t read the newspaper you’re uninformed.  If you do read it, you’re misinformed…. What is the long-term effect of too much information?  One of the effects is the need to be first, not even tell the truth anymore.”

I agree!

So, I made the decision to be uniformed.  Guess what it didn’t change my life one little bit. I started watching Family Feud instead of the news which in addition to stopping me yelling at the TV gave me the realisation that on the big scale of things my family is pretty normal – and also to never trust a survey when you only have 100 people (also never go on the show as they make you dance like a fuckwit in the sound proof booth before your turn in the final round!)

Today I am uninformed. When ever someone tells me something terrible is happening in the world, or this or that politician (or more likely this celebrity) is doing something, or failed to do something or got another payrise to make their annual salary $17 million instead of the poulty $15 million they were getting before being cut from the Mets (whoever the fuck they are?)….  I turn to them with glazed eyes and say “What?”…  they often repeat the diatribe of useless information to which I reply “Want another beer?” and they always say yes and we have a better conversation about surviving the apocalypse, or building a better mouse trap or laugh a fat people playing sport/dancing or just drink our beer and reminisce about our youth when we went through that fantastic ‘purple patch’ from 1988 to 1995 inclusive.

Today I made the mistake of ‘scanning’ the news headlines on a daily email I get from the ABC – I usually delete it after reading the first headline which is about a politician or catholic priest or celebrity or ISIS or the overwhelming crime wave we are currently experiencing…. (I have to ask myself why I don’t just unsubscribe from the email list?)…

This mistake of actually reading all the headlines and then the ultimate cardinal sin (a different one to ex-Archbishop Phil Wilson I might add!) of actually reading a few of the articles – I might add yelling at your phone is not quite the same as yeling at the TV.  So, what did I learn in just todays headlines:

  • The largest criminal organisation on the planet (the Catholic Church) ‘gracefully’ accepted the resignation of a convicted child abuse concealer….  really?!
  • My speedo in my car may not be accurate if I put on different tyres… a headline… really?!
  • Two people who exposed our Government illegally taping another Government over trade deals may face charges – 14 years after it happened…. really and why?!
  • Saving for a house is a ridiculous dream for young Australian…  that’s it, kick ’em when they are down and not only tell them that we fucked the planet but they can’t afford to live on it… our generation has no conscience?!
  • A 16 year old reports on the drought… what are the rest of the Media doing about NSW QLD drought?!
  • Aviation fighters had 20 times normal PFAS in their blood….  I dont even know what that means and didnt read the article as I had 4 times the legal limit of alcohol in my blood from the previous evening session in the shed!
  • Logging kills gliders intensively – intensively; oh look which journalist got a thesaurus for their birthday!
  • Time is running out for people to have babies – and this is new?
  • Hernia mesh patient says….. oh, fuck another modern miricle in medicine becomes a class action (this article also talked about vaginal mesh – I just thought there would be pictures….)….  thank you Dr for saving 10,000 lives but unfortunately we have a class action because…. wait for it, the obese, cigarette smoking patient got an infection… I would hesitate to guess not the first one (see above re vaginal mesh!)
  • ‘Mum Guilt’ as the NZ Prime Minister goes back to work…. I think she is fantastic… but let’s just not talk about that, stereotype her into a ‘multitasking working Mum’ not a leader of a nation – Oh, you have a kid, how nice what about our 10 billion dollar trade deal!
  • Stray dog given participation medal in half-marathon – so, all kids get participation medals for coming eighth at sports day?
  • Koalas starving to death…. not the babies as they eat their own mothers shit; fun fact, just thought I’d share that one!
  • Health service providers have most data breaches – oh, God most people share more on Facebook than are in their medical records – more to the point who the fuck keeps these statistics and why?
  • Why doesn’t the tropical north produce more agriculture – good question which I have never thought about in my life and care less about now than before I read the article – there was hoever a nice picture of a cowboy, I mean cow-person…
  • Trump says….. didn’t read the rest (also applies to any article mentioning a politician)
  • MH370 victim families to continue to fight for answers….  am I the only one who thinks it strange that we accept a commercial airliner disappears and all 239 people on it (of which six are Australians) are presumed dead, somewhere; and we have a report to say we don’t know why it happened and we have stopped looking for it….  Really?
  • ‘Selfie Police’ called to stop… sorry didnt read the rest, had to take a picture of my breakfast.
  • Feel like you’re financially treading water? ….that’s because most of us are – this article was base on a survey by “Melbourne Institute’s study of Household Income and Labour Dynamics” – I stopped reading, surely that’s a joke organisation…. like “Premature Ejaculators Anonymous – PEA” of which I was a member but when I went to my first meeting no-one else was there – I was apparently a day early….
  • Zimbabwe begins counting votes… stopped reading, if you can’t have a straight election in the USA what hope does Zimbabwe have?
  • Man found dead in storage shed wheelie bin went missing in 2001 – couldn’t read it, I had too many jokes, I wheelie did, how long he bin there, he was only found as they put the wrong bin out on recycling day, etc etc
  • Then there were 9 article under the heading ‘Opinion’ – so this is not even news but just what someone thinks about stuff – get a blog!

So, that was my experience with the News today – do I feel misinformed; was I better off uninformed?

I am just confused as I know I actually feel dumber and wasted this time when I could have been watching YouTube videos (my normal breakfast entertainment) about building a rock sieve out of an old tumble dryer ….

 

 

 

 

 

 

My confusion stems from a number of facts – yes, facts:

  1. We live in the most prosperous, safest, healthiest time in ALL human history yet we fear everything…. (this is a statistic fact – look it up!)
  2. We live on a planet where we are all the same species (humans that is…) and are at the top of the food chain, but care more about a new plasma TV than… well just about more than everything else….
  3. We don’t know who to trust or what to believe (I am still reviewing my recent research on the flat Earth Society page – this is very convincing stuff, you should have a read – don’t get me started on the existence of giants!!!!)

So, the upshot is, I like being confused.  Because in being confused I constantly question.

Most of the time the people I question as they expose the ‘facts’ are the ones with the biggest opinion, the biggest bank account and the biggest arse – and they often say I saw it on the News (except the last one as they usually say “No, I’m big boned” as they inhale another pie!)

And, also I wrote this article a couple of days ago and the News headlines have changed – or have they?  I have to sign off now as I am currently stirring up a shit storm on Facebook about the Queensland Drought and people are coming out of the woodwork with their expert opinions – none so far live in Queensland, or are farmers… maybe they just watched the News.

 

Better at “Wishing You Were Dead”

I actually have a pre-occupation with death – because it is the one inevitability, yet we fill our lives worrying about shit – and buying shit….

I actually wish you were all dead.

Yes, really dead…. and then by some miracle you got to come back.

Would it be at this point that you realised that prior to your death, your temporary death, that just because you lived as if you were immortal, you were not and death was real – the end – no more…. well, would you then do things differently.  Fuck I would.

Firstly, I would delete every arsehole from my life – for some of you that may be me!  Secondly, I would sell everything I owned that I worked ‘all my life’ to get, as there is no point – no trailers on a hearse!  Thirdly, I would spend every minute with the ones I love, telling them that I love them – if they wouldn’t stop to talk, or catch up for a coffee or have a drink – as they were too busy, I would write them a letter, send them a card; something they could hold and feel.  Fourthly, I would go and look at stuff that was interesting, beautiful, spiritual… and travel, chat with people about their lives, share a meal, fuck I’d buy it for them, I sold all my worthless shit, I am rich for a while!  Plus, I’d send post cards back to all the people I love – post cards were good, now we just post shit on ShitBook and get likes from people that don’t like that we are travelling and they are working to buy shit for when they die.

Then if that took a day, a year or the rest of my life, which it would – then on that last day, when I spend that last dollar of my allocated time – I could say it wasn’t a waste, it was worthwhile, it was meaningful – and everyone would have good post cards to remember me by.

So, how come I write this … and I reassure you I haven’t been dead and come back to life … well, why write this?

I think it is because only a very few of us actually do…. not die and come back, but do what we really want – what is good in life… the reason is that the rest of us don’t really think we are going to die, until we do.  Then of course it is too late.

The funny part about this is when it is someone else who dies, we are also a bit surprised, sometimes.  And we think how much we miss them, and all the things we should have said, or apologised for, or all the times we almost caught up and cancelled for an urgent and unexpected work emergency…  then we just go on living and are glad we are still alive and live tomorrow just like yesterday.   Fuck we are all gutless.

If you are really into ‘self help’ you probably recently read ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck’ – I have spoken to a few people who have and they all seem to have forgotten a major point of the book is not about not giving a fuck but about giving a fuck about the right things.  A great example of this is Henry Bukowski; in the book he is put up as a hero / anti-hero and as you can see from his tombstone, he really didn’t give a fuck – which is not really what the book is about.

The point?

Old Henry really did what he wanted to – if you want a moment in the surreal, read a few of Henry’s poems or stories – he was one fucked up dude who didn’t give a fuck, and was proud of it.

I’m not saying I want to be Henry, but shit I admire him (much like most of the Australian population admire Ned Kelly and he was a thieving, horse stealing cop murderer who deserved to hang!) – but although Henry was a drunken prick at least he was funny right to the end.  (I have included one of my favourite poems at the of this post….).

Henry, thought about death a lot and realised his life was a big pile of shit, so treated it with the contempt that it, and he deserved…..  most of our lives are not like that – and there are a whole lot of people in the world who are much, much worse off than most of us – and even if you are one of them, you appear happier than most of us.

I know it will be a surprise when I die, because I wont think it will be that day; fuck it wasn’t even in my diary.  I used to have a mate who used to say (in jest, as he is still here annoying me…)  “My life is shit…. I’m going to kill myself… Oh fuck, I just don’t have the time….!”   Maybe, we all don’t have the time to actually live. let alone die.

So, that is my depressing (for you maybe, but, I am quite proud of myself…) post for today.

So, why?

Well, because today I saw a man who was looking the grim reaper in the eye, and he was shit scared – bet he never woke up this morning expecting that…..

           Death of an idiot – by Henry Bukowski

he spoke to mice and sparrows
and his hair was white at the age of 16.
his father beat him every day and his mother
lit candles in the church.
his grandmother came while the boy slept
and prayed for the devil to let loose his hold upon
him
while his mother listened and cried over the
bible.

 

he didn’t seem to notice young girls
he didn’t seem to notice the games boys played
there wasn’t much he seemed to notice
he just didn’t seem interested.

he had a very large, ugly mouth and the teeth
stuck out
and his eyes were small and lusterless.
his shoulders were slumped and his back was bent
like an old man’s.

 

he lived in our neighborhood.
we talked about him when we got bored and then
went on to more interesting things.
he seldom left his house. we would have liked to
torture him
but his father
who was a huge and terrible man
tortured him for
us.

 

one day the boy died. at 17 he was still a
boy. a death in a small neighborhood is noted with
alacrity, and then forgotten 3 or 4 days
later.

but the death of this boy seemed to stay with us
all. we kept talking about it
in our boy-men’s voices
at 6 p.m. just before dark
just before dinner.

and whenever I drive through that neighborhood now
decades later

I still think of his death
while having forgotten all the other deaths
and everything else that happened
then.

 

Better at Being a Politically Active Vegan

If you eat meat and don’t vote for (insert who you vote for here ____________ ) then you are wrong…..

Today I was having two discussions on Facebook about veganism and politics – both of which I care little about… however, the supplying of information, unsolicited, from both camps of course encouraged me to be adversarial, research both topics (in the opposite of course) and bait both ‘information’ providers….  why?

Because as always stated politics and religion (and diet) should not be discussed in polite coffee shop and/or dinner party conversation, as this adage I have paraphrased and bastardised sort of goes.  And why is this so.  Because, for me, I don’t care what you think or eat, just don’t preach it to me.

I rambled of a few quotes this morning which I ‘cherry picked’ from a very calculating series of Google searches, all of which started with “the opposite argument to….” – of course I got 1000’s of hits – as well as a very convincing video of the flat earth theory by the ‘Flat Earth Society’ (it looked pretty creditable actually…..?)

It is also very interesting in these sort of debates …. say that with an accent and it can be pronounced from my perspective as “da-baits” ….. because I can listen all day to the ramblings of a true believer (a skilled learned from being dragged to Church every Sunday morning during my childhood) as it gives me time to think about other things…. until their constant drone appears to be punctuated with one word that wears me down and signifies the true sport of antagonising the true believer is about to begin….  that word is “YOU”.

Okay what do I mean.

Simple.

I believe in God – versusYou should believe in God.

Okay, I can listen to your ramblings and have no problem with your beliefs – you can believe in the God Zot, from the planet Zing which requires that you put on a tin foil hat 3 times a day and pray facing the home world – but don’t try and sell it to me.  It is okay to tell me about it, to tell me about YOUR beliefs, so don’t wreck a good and amusing story, or the continued demonstrated perseverance of childhood conditioning, or peer pressure, or ideological blindness, that has helped you form your belief; but don’t, never, ever, ever, say “You should….”  for that sort of missionary position (sorry had to use that phrase) is the beginning of ‘da-bait’ and you cast it, so lets have some fun – well for me anyway.

All this is a bit cruel – for you and me – mainly me; as it doesn’t make me a better man….

I, yes I, will try and do better.  I will pray to ZOT for guidance.

PS:  Apologies there were no pictures on this post, but I wanted to have a post that didn’t have pictures to see how many would take the time to read to the end and then share this post with others……. hang on, I think I have seen this written somewhere before, I didn’t share it and didn’t receive any good luck (but, I am currently negotiating with a very nice man who through a Government accounting error has received millions of dollars to……but, that is another story for another post) –  I will pray to ZOT, who works in mysterious ways.

Better a Whistle Blower than the 80%

Six Percenters now rule

A while ago I wrote about “6 Percenters” (click to read post here) which basically are the 6 percent of people who are difficult to deal with…. unfortunately they drag another 14% of weak people along with them, which creates the situation of the 20% of people who take up 80% of your time….

So, most of the time only 20% of the world are causing difficulties.

I’ve been thinking…. (Which is also another challenging situation as my mind is a very dangerous place and I never go there alone….!)

What I was thinking is surely,  if only 20% of people in any situation, or more importantly organisations, are ‘troublesome’ then any whistle blower who steps forward would surely be supported by the majority; that is the 80%.

I don’t think this is the case – perhaps it never really was…?

It’s all about me; and I’m having a guess

My particular observations have obviously been about the Police… and I must say they are my personal opinions and based on …. well what I just reckon from 38 years of experience and being right in the middle of it.  There is also a disclaimer that mostly this is not about individuals but more about a ‘culture” – plus it may also relate to a myriad of other organisations and groups where culture is everything, so although I base this on the Police, in looking around your office, or organisation, you may be thinking, hey, this is happening here too.

What am I talking about?  culture, whistle blowers, the percentages…..?

What I am talking about is that I don’t think in organisations that have a long history and intrenched culture that they themselves, and especially the individuals within the organisation, even know they are part of a different percentage; most think, most of the time, that they are part of the majority.  That is the majority of people who are NOT 6 percenters or their followers – which is about 80% of ‘us’.

In ‘culture orientated’ organisations and groups the ‘6 percenters’ have often ruled for years.  They have dragged the initial 14% and then progressively over the generations this percentage has grown to much, much, much more.

I think in some modern organisations, and from my experience, the Police, have allowed the ‘6 percenter mentality’ to become the culture.  The followers are not a group of weak people looking for a leader but are now the majority.  The 6 percenters, are now not 6 percenters, but the leaders, the influencers, the cultural caretakers, and have been for some generations.  They have progressively recruited in excess of the 14% of weak and easily led people and have been building this number over generations.   So, what was 14%, is now more like 74% – which is 80% of the organisation.

Bullshit, I hear you cry as one. Well, I actually hear 80% of you cry this, as you are now the majority.  The worse part of this sentence is, I think until I retired, I was well and truely in that group, if not one of its leaders – hence I think I speak from experience.

Bullshit, again I hear you cry.

Lies, more lies, and statistics

Well, lets do the only more confusing thing I can think of doing than writing the above algorithm of misaligned sentences – which is quote a few statistics.

I have a joke about statistics which my wife hates which goes like – “Three statisticians go hunting deer with bows and arrows;  they see a deer and the first fires his arrow and it goes a metre in front of the deer; the second fires his arrow and it goes a metre behind the deer; the third fires his arrow and it goes a metre over the deer; all three statisticians look at each other and chant in unison “We got him, we got him!”

So what are my stats?  They are taken from the independent review into “Sex Discrimination, Sexual Harassment and Predatory Behaviour in South Australia  Police” report published November 2016 by the South Australian Equal Opportunity Commission (click here for a link to the entire report).

Lets start off with a few doosies:

  • 45% had personally experienced sex discrimination while employed by SAPOL
  • 61% agreed it was very difficult to work part time and have a career in SAPOL
  • only 21% who had experienced sexual discrimination had reported it
  • half of those who reported it said they experienced victimisation, including being ostracised, ignored, bullied, or denied training or promotion

So, about 1 in 5 are reporting – what a coincidence, about 20% by my maths…..

I am not saying the above ‘bush maths and anthropology’ has any scientific basis, but, usually if something doesn’t seem right it isn’t – if you dont believe me ask a few fraud victims!  Plus, intuition saved many a cop from opening the wrong door or walking around the wrong corner – sometimes the map doesn’t match the ground – therefore the map is wrong!

Again, so?  What does this all mean.  I think it mainly means that it doesn’t matter how many new policies, working groups, task forces, media campaigns or big glossy posters  around the office – if the culture stays the same, the 80% go on merrily thinking everything is alright – oblivious to the reality.

What does this mean if you are a whistleblower

It basically means you are in the new 20% and you are fucked.  I am constantly searching the internet for a ‘good news’ whistle blower story – let me know if you find one.

Just look above at the SAPOL report and the things you face as a whistle blower – victimisation, bullying, etc etc – and these are probably just the identifiable consequences. What about the individual consequences?

I recently asked a few serving members what was the general discussion going on about the place in relation to the land mark decision against SAPOL in relation to discrimination (read full article here) and it appears that the 80% rule supreme – read the article and then read the below paraphrased responses heard around the SAPOL workplace:

“She was always a bit weak.”

“She was a shit cop anyhow.” “What a whinger.”

“We’re better off without her.”

The above were relayed to me via various sources and when I asked if anybody spoke up the answer was no – the 80% rule – the culture remains the same irrespective of posters and task forces and the Commissioner, the CEO, the boss or even the 20% trying to lead the way.

Who protects the protectors from themselves?

Better at Beating Your Nemesis

We all have a ‘nemesis’ in our life…. the thoughts of which usually stay with us over the years.

Often this is a school nemesis:

  • The popular kids who wouldn’t be our friend….
  • The kids that always just beat us at sport / academics / or whos
    painting was always just a little bit better…
  • The girl who we never quite got the guts up to ask out – or did and didn’t kiss (and never saw again)…
  • The teacher who for no apparent reason appeared to hate us….
  • The bully….

This ‘life nemesis’ was often friend and foe, despised and admired, feared and friended all at the same time.  As our nemesis was often from childhood or school days the memories of it are often vivid or somehow real although our memory of specifics may not be so clear – it may also be just one occasion…

I used to train staff and often they would talk to me years later and say the influence I had on their careers.  Often this was as the mentor and guide – but it was also as the nemesis or the person it took them a long time to ‘get over’.

Often, when speaking to them, my wife would ask after a chance meeting ended, who was that, and I would say “I’ve got nothing” – it is the first and last scene from “An Officer and a Gentleman” over and over again – (“Queers and steers and I don’t see no horns….” and all that stuff).

The life of our nemesis is often really only in existence in our head.

It is the so often lamented moment in our past where we think…. “If only I had…”  Well. here is the scoop on this, you / I, didn’t.

The nemesis exists, because we didn’t (or sometimes we did, and are still wishing we didn’t…) and that is the trap – of literally being trapped in the past in your head.

I have a group of mates who are all now, like me, in their 50’s and when I get together with them, it can be for 5 minutes, or 5 hours or 5 days – they will spend the entire time recounting their exploits from 15 – 19 years old – those four years are the discussion.  They recount sexual, physical, sporting and every other types of events that appears to still be happening and everything else in the last 30 plus years never comes close in comparison.

The nemesis is like that.  They were bigger, badder, smarter, better looking than is possible and they stay that way over the years, never to be defeated…..  until you meet them again….?

This happened to me recently.

I met my nemesis after 38 years.

He was smaller, older, sicker and sadder than I could ever have imagined possible.  Of course he didn’t remember me!!!!  I chatted with him, had a beer and then the ultimate, he bummed $20.00 off me.

My nemesis was dead – and sadly more recently, literally dead; dying as I was retiring.

I sort of miss him.

I dont have a reason to remember him badly now.  As a matter of fact I realised that I never really did – it was just kids being kids in the 70’s where my nemesis was created in my head.  I also didn’t get a chance to chat with him about our lives between then and now.  Why school yard battles made him my nemesis and probably helped to get me through the rest of my life to retirement – and why those same battles where he was so often the victor, appeared to have destroyed him and been his only ‘glory days.’

I think my greatest nemesis has always been me.

I have not doubt been and still am the nemesis, focus of hate, reason for failure, of a lot of people.

I’m not dead and it is now, not then.

A few I have met, even the ones I didn’t remember, I have made the platitudes of apology for past wrongs (?), for things I said (?), for the angst I may have caused (?), their lives I destroyed, their self confidence stolen, their marriages broken up, cancer, global warming and the demise of the whale… because that is what they needed to hear from me to defeat their nemesis – or a least blame them – it is the least I can do for a ‘chinese burn’ or a ‘dead leg’ 30 years ago…. plus, in many cases I needed to do this for myself – even if I couldn’t remember the thing they have been thinking about for years.

The other way to defeat your nemesis is to get a mirror and have a look – not a yourself, but to make sure they are not on your back – because if they aren’t (and mostly they aren’t unless it is some sort of spooky horror movie..) then you are actually standing there by yourself.

Some have one nemesis, some have many, some are the nemesis and some are dead.

I think unless it calls for a sword fight, or pistols at 20 paces, the nemesis of youth, perhaps even our recent lives are actually dead at the exact moment we stop thinking about them – or unless of course they are dead – then what is the point of continuing to fight them (bar the occasional self satisfying piss on their grave…).

I think I will one day visit my nemesis’s grave, not to piss on it, but to say thank you and sorry.  Thanks for adding the bit to my life that I only just got to understand – but a lesson worth learning – and sorry that your life didn’t turn out so well…. that sort of makes me sad…

As Friedrich Nietzsche said:

“Whoever lives for the sake of combating an enemy has an interest in the enemy’s staying alive.”