Tag Archives: #bestintentions

Better ….. the best Daughters

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Don’t know if I mentioned I almost died from an aneurysm a few days before Christmas….

If I had have died imagine how that would have stuffed up Christmases for the entire family for…. well, forever….  What a terrible day that would have been “Oh, here’s the new blouse you wanted, and oh yeah, this is the day Dad died!”    Horrible!

I know I am going to die before my daughters.  Well that is what all parents wish and I can’t imagine otherwise….  I have a mate who’s 24 year old son recently died from cancer….  the world will never be the same again and most definitely never seem fair.

….. and I must digress here …. by saying that friends do not show up when it’s convenient or easy but they are just there when it is hard….  I am trying to do that for my mate above.

So I spent a few days in hospital, well actually three weeks, and although it wasn’t exactly a piece of cake for me, I know it was hard, maybe more so (as I was zonked out on oxy most of the time – the only time I ever had access to that many drugs was after midnight down Hindley Street talking to a bloke called Guido!), for my friends, family, wife and daughters.

I can’t thank my wife enough…. but that is another blog and probably a bit more between me and her.  A lot of the people I have to thank have received a little special thank you in the post – well maybe not yet as the old mail with a pen and paper really is as slow as a snail.  I often ask myself why I still write letters and send cards – but then again I did have a brain aneurysm so talking to myself has become somewhat the norm – and I agree!

My little blog today is also not about my friends  – who many fulfilled the above little saying of being there when it was hard.  … and a lot were smart enough to not be there and fill my hospital room, read my magazines and steal my chocolates….  but called later when the dust settled and I could actually remember them either being there or talking to me!

My daughters…  the ones that I thought I was here to protect, suddenly were there
protecting me, holding me up, making me proud of the young women they had become… so one night I wrote the following:

My Daughters

When I was on the edge of life,
When I wavered,
When I was scared,
When I feared for the future,

 Angels appeared,
… and they were my Daughters.

They lifted me up,
They led me back,
I am alive, and I am grateful.

 My daughters,
… such strength
… and grace
… such unconditional love.

Their gift of my life,
I am humbled and proud.
Thank You.

… and more so, I am grateful that I am here to write this and tell them in person, everyday.

Better Community – The Riverland War

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War, what is it good for … well let’s think about that for a moment…

I live in a great community.

Peaceful, beautiful scenery, no traffic, a sense of history, wonderful country people working together to make the place better and more….. um…. let’s just think about that list for a minute….

The Riverland is the place I am talking about and ‘working together’ is a wonderful thought but perhaps a myth….?

I have spoken to people who have not spoken to people for 30 years because one punched the other in the guts behind the lunch shed at recess time …. or my Dad hated your Dad so I hate you … or you live in another town so I was born to hate you … …

I think the only towns this doesn’t apply to are the ‘Switzerland’ towns like Monash or Glossop which fall into neutral territory.  Well you may be from neutral territory until you sign up for a sports team when your parents take you to practice for the first time when you are 11 then you give up your Switzerland citizenship and become a naturalised citizen of your new country – but not really because you weren’t born there… and that is everything.

These ‘countries’ are of course for life, your citizenship is for life and loyalty is everything.

We, us Riverlanders are constantly at war, north, south, east, west and of course those ones from across the river!

I propose a solution.

We have a war, a real war.  Wars settle long held grudges and everybody gets along afterwards e.g. 2 World Wars and now we love German cars and engineering plus the Japanese make all our electronics and we have their words tattooed on our bodies, that old chestnut the Vietnam ‘police action’ and now they are some of our most valued citizens are Vietnamese and it is our recent most popular tourist destination – bloody hell our current South Australian Governor Hieu Van Le was born in Vietnam!

Plus wars encourage inovation, get the factories going making guns and other stuff to kill each other, wars get rid of troublesome young people (you know the ones, those entitled brats who are always on their cell phones and didn’t drink out of the hose when they were young!)

Wars are basically great!

(Plus wars solve everything like the war on terror and the war on drugs – bang!  Both done and dusted and pouring in enough money and lives gets it done….  innovation, talking and compromise are for the weak!)

I propose we have a war to unite the Riverland and settle once and for all which town is better and more to the point who will be the King!   This is not a figurative war but a literal one (please explain the difference to anyone under 25!).

We tell the Government (who do nothing for country people anyway – love that old chestnut as well and unfortunately have experienced it…) that we are going to settle our own affairs.  It will be a ground war with conventional weapons (no chemical weapons or nuclear weapons – do we really want the USA coming in looking for weapons of mass destruction or building walls everywhere…).  Of course we will have to change this silly Riverland Murraylands thing which covers more territory than most countries and just make it a Riverland thing – of course Blanchetown and Waikerie may decide to bug out and become part of the Barossa….

Of course if you don’t want to be involved you can go to Monash or Glossop (or other designated Switzerland towns) and sit the entire thing out – if you weren’t born here you can also leave but if you were born here you must stay and fight – well after all it is your fault either for your activity or inactivity.

There will be an official declaration of War Gala – of course tickets will be $100 to attend and most will complain and boycott it as not only is it too expensive you have to wear long pants and a tie – it will be on the Riverfront and the main aim will not be to declare war but get as drunk as possible.

After the declaration and the afterparty breakfast the following day it will be on for young and old. (Well not really the old – they just cling onto power and prevent anything actually changing…. but the young, well they will just live in the situation we, the old, created… and they better be grateful!

The Katarapko Convention for the Riverland War will be convened regarding the rules of war (what a silly thing to have rules of war!) and will include:

  • All prisoners will be treated humanly and provided with one meal of a Parmy and a beer a day (no innovative food will be served especially anywhere with table service)
  • Op shops will not be ransacked (the Riverland has some of the best Op shops in the country – a national treasure actually!)
  • Riverland Forum on Facebook will be the official news service for the war and report daily on traffic, lost pets, recommendations for services (only if this information is readily available from at least 100 other sources) – in the event that Riverland Forum is compromised by positively reporting the Riverland War then multiple other pages will be created to report – e.g. Riverland Forum without rules etc etc
  • HiViz is not a uniform and anyone caught wearing it (especially when going out for dinner) will be shot as a spy
  • All local Councils will be excluded from the war (unless required as human shields) as their allegiances to any particular town is a bit fuzzy.
  • Individual towns may have a navy which must consist only of jet skis which must at all times be travelling a top speed and apparently going nowhere.
  • Medical assistance must be provided to the injured which may entail a 3 week wait or the conscripting of well meaning doctors who are trapped in the combat zone and have been conscripted to work to death.
  • Any town may surrender at anytime (or fight to the death irrespective of the damage to their town or the Riverland) and will immediately become a suburb of the victor.

I think it will be a great war and provide the Riverland with a new start.

At the end of the war one town will be the victor and declared the Capital of the Riverland.  That town will elect a King, who must actually ahve some qualifications and not just win a popularity contest vote on by their relatives, who will become the benevolent dictator (a proven political system so long as the benevolence continues…).

And we will rebuild!  (the USA will probably want to help but let’s hope the King says no otherwise we will all be back where we started).

The King will have one Council to help him, the businesses will have one Chamber of commerce to help them, the Service Clubs will work together, the farmers will work together irrespective as to what they grow (except if it is cotton or rice – anyway they should have been shot during the war!)

Of course in addition to the mundane tourist attractions we have already we will now have such national icons such as:

  • The Battle of Bookpernong Cemetery (there will be lovely underutilised gardens)
  • The march of Katarapko Creek (it will be an annual pilgrimage to walk the track – which will be poorly marked and unkept)
  • The Mookrook Massacre (war crime trials continuing for years, even decades in the Kangaroo Courts which are a long standing Riverland tradition)
  • The Loxton Siege site (which was self imposed to keep the rabbits out)
  • The New Loveday Interment Camps (currently used for conciensious objectors and people who have lived in the Riverland for 20 or more years but will never really be locals – just to teach them a lesson)
  • There will be one Riverland Show to celebrate the end of the War.

There will be heaps of good stuff to take for granted … and we will do it together.

Of course this is silly – although I did get a lot of pleasure writing it and seeing the looks on peoples faces….

But, aren’t the Riverland towns now and haven’t they been for some time, in a Cold War.  It is like Russia and the USA in the 1960’s and 1970’s – war is not declared but we are in a battle for supremacy, to the detriment of all.

What is Community.  Is it one town, is it the Riverland, is it the Riverland Murraylands – it’s all of it.  It’s realising that punch in the guts behind the lunch shed at recess time didn’t mean all that much then and means less, actually nothing now … and that bloke and/or girl is all grown up now and a part of my Community, perhaps my neighbourhood.

Those kids that have a private war daily in the Riverland by not having the opportunity to be in charge, to lead the way, to innovate, to create…  they take their arsenal of youth, enthusiasm, knowledge and potential to not fight in other peoples wars but to build their communities. (also see post on Old People – click here)

I suppose if the war continues nothing gets better, different people with no loyalty to the Riverland get involved (does the war in Afghanistan ring a bell!!!) and ‘our country’ is ruled by invaders and all the locals, their businesses, their lives become collateral damage in a greater ‘good’. (I just had another good idea for a blog called “The Invasion of the Riverland”…. maybe another day?)

Perhaps the greatest war we have to face is the one within ourselves, to forgive (the greatest act of will and surrender we can undertake) work together and make our home, our neighbourhood, our community, our Riverland a wonderful place for everyone.

 

 

 

 

 

Better at Drafts

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I sat down today to write a post as I haven’t for some time…. as I have said before life gets in the way!  …. and I have been pretty shitty with the world so as the old adage goes “if you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything” – so I said nothing; I didn’t even start any drafts…..

When I sat down I had to log and in doing so went to the section of my blog which saves all my posts as well as saving all the drafts I have started….

Well I have almost an many drafts as I do actual posts….  (drafts as in half finished or half started ‘ideas of posts’ as opposed to the game we used to play as kids which for some unknown reason the youth of today call checkers…. just like they call biscuits cookies – and the one I hate the most ‘two times’ instead of twice!!!!   I am literally over it, literally!)

I also realised in typing the above that the main draft anyone cares about today is the football and the one they feared the most in the past was the call up for war – how terrible it was based on your Birthday – ‘Happy Birthday you are now drafted”…..

So all these Drafts (not checkers!) were posts I was going to get around to finishing one day… and some were just ideas that didn’t pan out, or I lost interest in that cause, or mostly when I read the draft I had no idea what I was actually trying to say – a lot like this post…..

I think having a draft of anything is perhaps a little like the opposite to the game of drafts (I officially refuse to use the term checkers as of this moment onwards…) – in the game you jump to win, in producing a draft of anything, you stay in the same place to not finish something…..

Okay I know drafts of some things are important, like an important work document which no-one is going to read, exam assignments (see previous), and emails to the boss…  but mostly drafts are just an excuse – well my excuse anyway to not do something right in the first place and to write a few words and convince myself I have started….

I remember when there was no back space or delete key and the draft was the document, mistakes meant retyping or rewriting it….  putting the carbon paper in the wrong way (for those under about 30 look up ‘carbon paper’ and then see how it relates the the ‘CC’ box on your email) was just a monumental disaster….

Drafts in those days were in your head and when it hit the page it hit the page for good.  I love the word processing abilities of computers but I also understand it has made us slaves of spell check and the back space – thoughts on paper are now transient and actually, mostly thought out on the paper which acts as a direct conduit from the brain without much prior thought (much like this post)…..  anyway the point of this final draft (is there such a thing….?) is to say I am revisiting a few of these draft posts that never saw the light of the screen and see what happens…..

Maybe some thoughts, ideas, causes I was passionate about back then, have some value, if not now, in the context that at some time they were important enough to at least start writing about; I may finish a few off in the next week or so.

Which is probably my cue to end.

Better Brevity….

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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”

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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

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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 – versus – You 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.