Fingers, or Lips...

In times gone by when men were men and women were ladies, it was easy to meet and greet new people according to gender or social cast. A man would thrust a firm (but not tight) handshake upon another man, and a lady would offer her delicate hand to be tenderly grasped, and perhaps even kissed. Women would peck each other on the cheek and pass compliments around on topics from hair to handbags.

As time went on, and bromance and feminism mixed the roles in the kitchen and the workplace, it has become an ever increasing issue of how to greet someone for the first time.

The Romans had it simple. Kiss EVERYONE on the cheek, that way no one can be weirded out by misplaced handshakes or unwelcome kisses. Simple, but now when meeting people for the first time, there is always the first hello dance.

This strange phenomenon is similar to the walking in someone's path dance - where you are walking towards someone, go to move out of the way, only have them move in the same direction, this happens a few times until someone gives way and both people move on in their original direction - with the exception that in that instance, the awkward interaction is over as soon as both parties continue on their journey. Sometimes you may even giggle to yourself about dancing with a stranger in the street.

The first hello dance however doesn't ebb into the past as sweetly, as after dancing between a handshake and a cheek kiss, you stay there... standing... talking... thinking... WHAT WAS I MEANT TO DO! There is no rule or guideline any more except for the one which we place on ourselves.

So as a man, meeting a woman for the first time, I offer a handshake, a proper manshake as it may be, as the simple niceties of a feminine handshake have faded into the past (or were rather trampled on by Germaine Greer and other bra burners) and are now replaced my manshaking between men and women. If you want to wear a pant suit, expect a manshake.

But then you have the people who rock the boat and decide to go in for the kiss on the first meeting. Or those who start with the shake and pull into the kiss. But once you've already offered a manshake to a couple of people, and you're then pulled into a shake kiss, the balance is upset... Everyone has seen it happen, and you're left there thinking, "Should I have offered the kiss to others in this group? Were they all expecting the kiss!?"

I should have been born in a time long since gone, a simpler time before the stupid idiom "first impressions last" was invented. A time, where men were men, and women were women, and first introductions were outlined in etiquette books which young girls balanced on their heads while they learned to walk tall.

But I'm not, which means every time I meet a new group of people, all I'm thinking is...

"Fingers, or lips."

A New Symbol...

In an age where consumer products rule the everyday, and where brand names consume our consciousness more than we consume their products, it is hardly surprising that the new symbol of status is the humble vacuum.

In days gone by, when a home was made - not bought, a symbol of a woman's ability to fulfil her role as a house wife was whether or not she had a washing machine. Likewise a symbol of a man's masculinity and ability to provide for his family was the car he drove, always clean and on display for the neighbourhood to see. This wasn't just a man and woman living together - this was husband and wife. A team, a unit, capable of taking on everything from little league laundry to transcontinental vacations.

So as time has crept forward, and gender roles have been confused, we no longer see the stereotypical washing machine or big car. In fact, if you want to show your status, you hide your washing machine behind false cupboard doors, and drive a Prius to show you care, rather than advertising your manhood.

So with gender becoming more neutral in the roles of home maker and provider, perhaps it is fitting that a vacuum would become the new symbol of status. The apparatus by which any person can ensure their home is in the best of care... But it's not just any vacuum, in a brand conscious culture, it of course would have to be a Dyson.

Image taken from Time Images: Click

Now, that isn't to say that there is anything humble about a Dyson - it's bold design and bag-less form make it both striking to the eye and simple to use. And regardless of how you might read into my demeanour, I do believe that Dyson to make great vacuums, but the fact remains that often in conversation I hear people discussing that they just purchase a Dyson.

I often wonder if these people leave their vacuums in the corner of the room for people to see, or perhaps "forgetting" to close the cupboard when guests come over - just so people can see it and say, "I see you have a Dyson, I have a Dyson, it's great!" 

It's not as though anyone would ever care to comment on someone owning a generic vacuum. And it makes me wonder what kind of person would talk about the purchase of a cleaning utensil unless there was some form of status or pride in it. I don't meet friends for coffee to discuss the new toilet brush I purchased, even though it works better than any other I have ever had before... What is so special about the Dyson.

I suppose in part it's because the Dyson is a product that lives up to it's hype - it's just funny to see how a vacuum can become a symbol of home making ability and status. When you think about it - and I'll agree that it's something which most people probably wouldn't think about.

Now remember, I'm not saying anything bad about the Dyson vacuum - nor discrediting anyone's reasons for wanting one, they are great vacuums and after all....

"I have a Dyson..."

;^)

Challenges of the past.

In a recent discussion I was made to think about my heritage, not so much my nationality because I am Autralian, but rather my background, where my parent's and grandparents are from. This came up as we were talking about how people identify themselves - do I use my parents background as a marker or indicator for who I am today, or where I have come from?

With Australia being a largely migrant country - it's hardly surprising that I have such a mixed cultural background. A Catholic Lebanese mother and a Protestant Scottish father. So with this mix, how could I identify as anything other than Australian.

But that's the thing, children will always rebel against their parents, and in some ways my parent's complete assimilation into Australian culture has perhaps forced me search for a past that doesn't exist - or rather hasn't existed for them.

My parents are both 1st generation Australian, but from mixed language background (Lebanese and Scottish/English), so English has always been the only language spoken at home. Even though my mother only ever spoke Lebanese as a small child - she never even tried to pass this onto either me or my sister. Looking back I can probably say that because of the lack of Arabic in my childhood I probably identify more now with my Scottish heritage - being that English is a common language spoken in Australian and Scottish cultures. My ability to identify with my Scottish heritage has developed to the extent where I have my family tartan kilt which I wear out with pride to the pub or coffee with friends...

So could I be a victim of 2nd generation Diaspora? My grandparents both came to Australia willingly, and both my parents are so "Australian" that they (1st gens) are ironically quite racist and bigoted when talking about immigrants, refugees and "boat people". But perhaps their lack of connection with any past has caused me to want to discover it more.

Who knows... Personally, I just like wearing a kilt.

Shamelessly stolen...

This was a joke I recently read on a forum I'm a part of... Thought it was so good that I had to share it!

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Over five thousand years ago, Moses said to the children of Israel, “Pick up your shovel, mount your asses and camels, and I will lead you to the promised land"

40 years ago, Whitlam said “Lay down your shovels, sit on your asses, and light up a camel, this is the promised land"

Now Kevin Rudd has stolen your shovel, taxed your asses, raised the price of camels and mortgaged the promised land!

I was so depressed last night thinking about this that I called Lifeline. Got a call center in Pakistan. I told them I was suicidal.

They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck ......

Leaves of Autumn...

This year the leaves aren't falling. Usually by the last days of March the trees have decided that it is once again that time of year to rid themselves of their summer coat. But not this year. The leaves are not browning, and the sun is still burning on. It seems that even the birds are unaware that the darker months are coming on, as they sit on my fence chirping and playing in the glare of the midday sun.

This leaves me feeling a little out of place, as I'm always aware of the weather and the changes around me at the end of March, because just like the trees coming to the end of their summer cycle, my life comes to the closing of another year.

In one days time another year will have passed from the last celebration of my birth, but I don't feel the difference as in one day, I will only be one day older. I don't feel older than last year, but I do feel the years slipping into my past as a dream fades out of memory in first few moments of awakening.

Awakening... That's how autumn feels to me. The leaves aren't dying, the trees are just releasing them to see the day more clearly - as though storm clouds were parting to reveal the sun in the sky. Their leaves turn brown as my hairs grow greyer, their leaves fall to the ground as my hairline falls further and further away from where it once was, and as another ring grows across the trunk of the great trees, another wrinkle is etched across my ageing face.

I am the epitome of an autumn baby.

I don't mind growing old - there's a certain dignity and grace that can be found in accepting the inevitable. It's just waiting for the leaves to fall that makes me sad...

Two Words...

"WE WON!!!!" 

Sydney Till I Die!!!!

Pictures taken from Sydney Morning Herald

Hopeless...

Like all movies that use a well placed musical score to heighten the tension and mood in their films, I also will try to use music as a method to aid the reader in gaining meaning from the blog. I don't think that I'll ever do this again - its more an experiment in its effectiveness while reading. So if you feel you got more from reading to the music, leave a comment and let me know.

So press play on the YouTube clip, and then read on, there is no video element, just music.

Now for the business of the day...

In our great country, and in fact in the world there appears to be a change in heart. More and more people every day are becoming aware that the lives that we're living are lacking meaning - or worse, we've lost hope.

Hope, the one intrinsic human trait that enables us all to live till tomorrow. The one quality of all people that enables us to heal from pain, and to look toward the future with a sense of longing. We all hope for better days, we all hope for a happy, long comfortable life. But in this modern era it is becoming more and more difficult to be hopeful about a better tomorrow.

As children, we were all filled with hope. For Christmas, birthdays, and growing up. We we're inspired with ideas of change and that we, as the next generation, would be the instigators for that change. But somewhere along the line the hope that once caused our hearts to beat firmly in our chests, the surging feeling that hope once gave an innocent youth before approaching their sweetheart, the fire in our lives that made tomorrow so much better than today has been extinguished.

Beneficium accipere libertatem est vendere.

To accept a favour is to sell freedom. This phrase, put down in the first century BCE, rings true the sentiment of this entry. Hope sets our hearts and minds free, hope is the desire and passion which makes us human, but the favours we've accepted along the way, along the many roads of life have caused us to lose this pure hopefulness that all people have a right to.

People are sadder now than they were fifty years ago. Moving out means moving into debt. Getting married means tying yourself down. Getting a job means losing your freedom. Going bald means losing your youth. Getting old means losing your looks. These are the messages which we are made to believe now, and we wonder why it's hard to hope for the future...

Somewhere in our past the way that people have thought has become confused. The past has become our way of judging the present and looking towards the future. This only leads to conflict and dread - we dwell on the past and so re-enact it in the present and fear the future. When fearing the future means you'll never move forward, and that society can never move forward in its pursuits for peace and happiness.

Hope means doing the opposite. We should be looking towards the future we want to live in to rule our lives and govern the decisions we make today, and only look to the past to help us from making the same mistakes again.

There is change in the air and we can all feel it - there is a civil tension rising due to the inaction of uncompassionate governments and corporations. These things will never change, but they have changed our society and caused us to lose meaning and hope. This entry is to try to remind us all that WE are the change, and unless we can find hope for the future and live our lives based on the principles that will enable us to achieve this future, nothing will ever change... and the future will be hopeless...


Man... I'm such a hippy.

Nostalgia...

Last night I was fortunate enough to head butt my desk in frustration at the work I had to submit today. It was a boring and menial task, but my lack of motivation and my amazing ability to procrastinate meant that at 11.30pm my face was firmly imprinted into the pages sprawled out before me... But in that instant, while my head lay slammed against the textbook, I caught scent of an aroma which I hadn't smelt for many years...

It was the specific smell of the paper and glue used in this text book, and it transported me straight back, 10 years into the past, to the night before my final school English exam. I felt the smooth glossy paper caress my nose and forehead, the aroma of glue filled my nostrils and soothed my soul with its sweet nostalgic flavours. And then, I remembered why that smell took me back to that moment, to that specific place and time. I realised where I was - my face once again planted in a textbook from frustration and anxiety over the impending doom that was to follow the next day.

Yep... Just like old times...

Sly...

I walked into the kitchen of my girlfriends house to be greeted by her extended family, just like every other weekend when there was a game on. Smiling faces wrinkled and distorted by stress and anxiety instead of the usual jubilance that comes before the football. 

We stood, we walked, we sat, we drove, and then we were at the game - greeting those in the seats around us, because we're always in the same seats. We're always there with loud voices, everyone cheering, however this week all were cheering with the exception of one uncle. He sat there silently in his seat giving off an eerie sense of serenity. But I knew - I knew that this man had more invested in this game than the team he was there to support. Trips to the team's head office, weekly journeys to all the home games, never missed an away game if the heavens allowed it. This man wasn't a fan - he was the fan, and his silence was the calm before the storm. 

I once heard a story about people on an aeroplane which suddenly began to drop from the sky, and as it plummeted helplessly to the earth the passengers on that plane weren't franticly screaming, flailing their arms about in panic. No. They sat there silently just like this uncle - making peace with their creators, or themselves. This is what I imagined it must have been like for him sitting there before the game. It was a car crash, a plane wreck, a series of tragic events occurring all at once, and all he could do was sit there and make peace with what ever outcome lay in store for his beloved team.

The game lasted for ninety four minutes, and sometimes he would stand, not to cheer but to see over those standing in front of him. Goals were scored on either side and at the end of the game our team came out on top. We were victorious and had made it through to the final round of the competition - the grand final. In the corner of my eye I saw him move. I saw a smile on his face but not the smile of surprising delight or exhausting relief, it was a smile when something you knew all along came true. I would compare it to a look of satisfaction when you read the last page of a novel first, and then read the rest just to see all the steps the author invented to create the happy ending you knew would happen all along. This was his expression. 

It was in that moment that I realised that his silence hadn't been because of stress, anxiety or a sense of uneasiness due to the approaching game. His silence was because he knew something no one else did, and the smile at the end of the game was simply at the delight he saw everyone else experiencing from what he knew all along. 

Sly...

A State of Stupidity...

In 1997, the Kerrigan family and their loveable ways became entrenched into modern Australian society when the film "The Castle" hit cinema's - and was an instant success. A tale about an average Australian fighting for the right to live in the home he loved.

When fighting for the right to remain living in his home, his lawyer appealed to the judge,

"It's the vibe of the thing, your Honour."

13 years on and people are making the mistakes for real. This time it's not the vibe, it's the truth, it's our government, and it's happening.

In the media over the past week there has been a plethora of articles and television segments concerning how the New South Wales Labor (spelt the American way - plebs...) government wants to take away land owners rights and privileges and hand them over to corporate developers.

So you have some idea what I'm talking about - here are a couple of links to the Sydney Morning Herald.
SMH Article
SMH Article

First off... what the?

Personally I'm a fan of some elements of socialised policy. Primarily regarding infrastructure and services, such as health and medicine, transport and roads, power etc.. But the only reason I'm for these elements of socialised infrastructure and governance is because they enable the citizens to live their lives free of privatised, corporate intrusion and influence. These forms of socialisation do not have the Marxist, communistic ethics that the ends justifies the means - the sacrifice of the people for the common good. Socialised health means everyone is entitled to the same level of professional care - for the common good of everyone with no sacrifice to the individual. Socialised transport means available to all so that all are mobile and able to work and commute easily, daily.

The Labor government, lead by KKK (Kristina Kerscher Kenneally - sorry, couldn't help that one - its just so obvious yet no paper has ever run that line), is trying to introduce is a legislation (designed and drafted by the failed/sacked/disgraced ex.Minister for Planning in 2008 - Frank Sartor) which dictates that the sacrifice of the few is just - but I say it's not justice. People will be dispossessed (and apparently adequately reimbursed) of their homes in order to allow corporate developers access to land in areas where land does not exist.

The policy relies on the ethical justification that dislodging and dispossessing people of their family homes is acceptable, and the physical, emotional and psychological effects that is has on a family (or individual) are not of concern as more people will be housed as a result of their unwilling sacrifice. In the same logic, a person could kill another person, steal their money, sell off their goods and live a morally right existence if the money were used to feed the homeless and give them shelter. The murderer in reality is the government, killing the freedoms and rights of its citizens for the sake of corporate greed, and cheaply built Ikea style apartments.

If the government were truly concerned with population growth and density they would stop caring about the states credit rating and start pumping funds into a decent Sydney and state wide public transport system. The reason Sydney is becoming so over crowded is because there has been no notable infrastructure to allow growth outside of the greater Sydney region. There is no metro line connecting the suburbs or CBD. There is no fast rail connecting the country and regional urban hubs to the city - meaning that any city job must be accompanied by a suitable suburban residence.

But this blog entry isn't about public transport... That topic could spill into a series of 10 long entries and even then my anger would not have subsided. This blog is about the government stealing from the poor to give to the rich. This is about the government stealing away the rights and liberties of its citizens in order to enable fat cat developers to get their greedy little fingers to our hard earned homes. The walls in which our families have been build, our memories forged, and our lives founded.

Stop trying to steal our homes, stop trying to steal our money, and start giving the state and the people what they need. Serve the people, not your political or personal agenda.

Stealing homes? It not bloody Australian!

Scooter riders...

Long time no blog... anyway...

Scooter riders. Why is it that time and time again we see them nudging their way through the traffic wearing nothing but a pair of high heels and a skirt suit? I would have to say that I have seen more scooters involved in accidents than motorcycles, yet of the two its scooter riders that never wear protective gear?!

Of course they wear a helmet, that's the bare minimum required by law - but for some reason these fool hardy two wheeled commuters think they are invulnerable to accidents. I ride a motorbike, and although I ride responsibly - I ALWAYS WEAR PROTECTIVE GEAR. Not because I have any doubts of my own safety in relation to my riding or my vehicle - but because I can never be sure of what every other vehicle on the road is going to do - and my safety and well being are far more important than my image.

Now it must be said that not all scooter riders ride naked - and by naked I mean that they might as well be riding naked for all the good their thing designer jeans, or skirt suit would do them if they touched the road at any speed - but those that do wear sufficient safety gear are few and far between. And those of you who do wear protective gear, I tip my hat to you for being safety conscious, now if only the rest would catch up.

I have racked my brain endlessly trying to figure out the reasons as to why they chose not to wear protective gear, and here is a short (most probably controversial) list that I have come up with.

Its because...

...they don't like skin.

...they think a skin graft means fake tan.

...they think RAM AIR means orgasm @ speed (what like 40km/h?)

...they think cold air induction means no need for a pap smear.

...riding something that looks like a toilet with handle bars must be safe!

...the brown leather seat matches their man-bag.

...they believe the leg guard act like an air bag.

...protective gear would mess with their hip indie styling.

...they only bought a Vespa cos it matched their espresso machine.

...they think emergency rooms are a great place to meet people.

...they like the smell of burnt flesh in the morning.

...they hate their life.

...they only ride a Vespa to be "unique" and protective gear would mean conforming.

...they like penis in their bum bum.

...they couldn't afford a Porche or BMW convertible and thought a scooter was equally "wanker cool".

...they wish they were European.

...at school they were picked on for wearing thick frames glasses.

...they love the taste of bugs for breakfast (most also wear open faced helmets... idiots).

...if they weren't wearing an open faced helmet how could they show off their designer sunglasses.

...their wife thought motorbikes were more unsafe.

...their wife's castrated them on the honeymoon.

...scooters don't get hit by cars. (LOL!)

...no one has told them that gravel rash with ladder their stockings.

If you ride a scooter, don't be offended... just buy and wear some decent protective gear while you ride.

More than words...

"Sayin' I love you... Is not the words I want to hear from you..."



We all know the popular song written by Extreme in 1990, which is a love ballad that effectively say actions speak louder than words. In other words, sleep with me and I'll know you love me, because saying you love me isn't enough. Seems shallow doesn't it - at first you would think this the case. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, perhaps it was simply a charming and beautiful ballad to someones loved one - but the theme of actions speaking louder than words is present... But does that mean that the words being said have no meaning?

Sometimes...

I have a friend who likes to say, "I love you" all the time. Which at first was really special as we had a very close friendship. But then never returning calls or text messages, never making any effort to maintain the friendship, and discovering the wide group of people (i.e. work friends and other randoms) he uses this phrase removed all meaning from the vocal gesture, "I love you". He constantly attempted to affirm what sort of friendship we had, always saying how close we were whilst never attempting to back that up with actions or gestures.

All of a sudden the lyrics of More Than Words made sense and I felt cheated.

What made this situation worse was once I discovered how shallow and meaningless his gesture of loving friendship was, I found it difficult to reciprocate the same response which he expected, "I love you too". Normally this wouldn't be an issue as the affirming response would normally and naturally roll off the lips like a deep bellied exhale, but there was a stammer, and in that involuntary pause he would ask for the response to his plea. This not only made things awkward, but made me responsible of the same crime which I so abhorred.

Now this isn't some homosexual erotic love I'm talking about here, but more the loving or intimate bond which brothers and siblings share for one an other. The love a friend may have their closest inner circle. This was a brotherhood which was once founded upon strong familial emotion, a brotherhood which was now in tatters as the words lost their meaning, and he lost my trust due to the over use of this special, intimate phrase.

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Loss of meaning is something which is becoming more and more prevalent in today's society. More and more people are forgetting the power of their words - throwing around phrases like "I love you" and making them meaningless. But why would people do this? In the case of my friend, many of other people who he uses the phrase to have come to me with the conclusion that he is most probably more interested in the response than the emotive force behind his own words. Its a selfish, self serving "I love you", which really explains much about the lack of action to back up the claim...

But even then people aren't necessarily forgetting the power of words, but rather, a new stream of thinking has arisen in today's culture where people don't want to be controlled or defined by the language they use - so rather than changing their behaviour they abuse the language to the point where it no longer has meaning.

This lack in meaning has permeated all facets of modern life and leads to people throwing promises around without the intention of following through with them. One example of broken promises are those by politicians.

"I promise I will do this... I promise I will do that! And because I know everyone holds no value to the word "promise" any more I know I won't be held accountable when I don't live up to my WORD." 

We have been convinced in the modern era that a promise no longer means someone WILL complete something, but rather they would LIKE to. The word promise no longer evokes a feeling of belief, but one of hope - and to me this just feels wrong.

These morally uplifting examples of love and promise aren't the only types of words which have been sullied by modern expression and meaninglessness. The same goes for the more vulgar or offensive words which we use to express ourselves, and forgive the language when I give examples - cunt, fuck, shit; even words like race/racist/racism, black, retard[ed] - and the list can go on... We take away a words meaning so that it might not have any power over us any more. No longer can a word disgust or anger us - but isn't that ability to be moved and to feel the extent of our emotional range something which is intrinsic to being alive? Shouldn't words used in the context of an insult still hold that meaning so we know to be disgusted? The only purpose this can possibly serve is to desensitise us all to the atrocities, insults and tragedies that language describes.

I believe in the power of words, and language which we use them in, I am not defined by my use of words, but I use these words with full force to define the world in which I live. I allow language to have power over me, not because it controls me, because it evokes the correct rational and emotive responses in me. I am at the mercy of my language, and am passionate about holding words and people accountable to their meaning and worth.

Do I need to blog anymore?!?

Well the answer is hell yes!

But this isn't me having a whinge to you about not blogging for a while cos I don't really care how often you have to go without my complaining. This is almost an advertisement for a TV show which I stumbled upon.

Its by the illusionists Penn & Teller and its called "Bullshit".

I would go as far to say its much like my blog, but in video form which is why I asked if I need to blog any more. Penn & Teller take a mythbuster style approach to social issues. They tackle topics from Armageddon theories to Penis Enlargement!

Watch the video I've linked to in this post and feel enlightened - then go out of your way to watch them all. They're great and just thought I'd pass on the greatness that is this TV series.

This video is the introduction to the series and gives you an idea of the greatness of Penn & Teller.

The Wild Wild Western World...

It's the afternoon, the sun is slowly beginning its homeward journey to the horizon, and the shadows which had disappeared begin to grow and stretch across the dry dusty landscape. On the main street of town, an outsider waits with his clean shaven skin searing in hot amber sun. He's waiting for the man he has to kill, the man who is from this part of town. The outsider continues to wait.

The sun moves lower in the sky, readying itself for its evening rest, using its daily travel as a way to escape the anxious tension that is building up in this little town. The sun can't run fast enough, the silhouette of a man casually walks across its gaze and blocks the suns view of the outsider, the new shadow stretched across the outsiders face. Like two great giants stood these two men. Their shadows in the dimming light casting images only a fraction the size of their worth.


The faceoff I've described here is much like any western film you may have watched. Two people longing for each others deaths, and the cliched saying "This town ain't big enough for the two of us". Well, this town isn't big enough for the two people in my story... Or is it?

My gripe today is with the trade off many people make between happiness and lifestyle versus professional success and why might people feel that this is a trade off they have to make. This is reflected in the introduction, as often peoples lives aren't big enough for the career they want and the lifestyle they need. It can be a showdown where one bullet, or one decision can lead them on a road with little or no way home.

So why would you chose professional success over lifestyle? There's a simple answer for this. Money. But is that actually the case? In speaking with a friend the other day, I was made aware that its possible to feel trapped into this cycle of professional success and career achievement. In this scenario, people who have been educated from the world's finest universities feel they NEED to have professional success in order to justify their education. For example, if someone who went to Cambridge ended up working in a position which a person from an unknown university could have worked, then their expensive and elite education would have been a waste (to them). So in order to no waste their education, they're happy to - or feel trapped into a cycle of professional success or achievement.

This idea was revolutionary to me - in the past I only thought that money earned was the root for all unhappiness, but apparently money spent (on education) can be equally as troublesome. I applied this understanding of educational pressure to something closer to home for me - High Schools. The more a parent pays for a child's education, the more they expect the child to perform. This places a lot of expectation and pressure on the child and so initiates this system of professional success vs. lifestyle.

So then is it the education which makes them feel the need to succeed or the culture taught by their parents?

This is something which occurs when education has no other purpose than career and financial gain. Which is the opposite of what education should be. Once again this is a lost ideal which will never actually find its place in the real world, but education for the education's sake should be the goal of everyone.

I began my university career with the aims of finishing as soon as possible and beginning in my chosen career path so I could make money. The stress which came from this need to finish, and the reasons for my education made it difficult to study and do well, as always I couldn't see my education as anything more than an enabler to allow me to reach my career. Over the last 6 months though I've had a change of approach to my educuation and it has freed me. I came to the realisation now that everything I have learnt to this moment has made me a better person. Everything I have read, everything my teachers have taught me and everyone who I've surrounded myself with while learning has taught me to be better able to challenge and question the injustices that are occurring, it has taught me to better think for myself and has enabled my own train of thought to evolve. So regardless of why I went to university, and regardless of the outcome, I will come out a better person than I went in, and everything I learn from here till I finish is a continuation of this journey.

When you're learning for yourself and your own betterment instead of your career it becomes much more motivating to learn and a much more rewarding experience. If people who feel trapped in a cycle of justifying their education could apply the same philosophy to their own education and life then perhaps they too could enjoy what they have achieved personally, and not worry so much about what they're not achieving professionally.

Perhaps when education for educations sake is taken into consideration both professional success and a better lifestyle can co-exist in harmony.

I haven't lived enough years to be able to answer this in its entirety, and if I had wisdom above my years I probably wouldn't tell you, as discovering the balance, meaning and reasons in life is something a person has to do on their own. All I know is there is no such thing as a wasted education...

To Blog, or not to Blog...

That is question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?

This is what I have been contemplating over the past month, and the above quote from Shakespeares' Hamlet quite acurately sums up my pondering. Is it nobler to just suffer the idiocy and injustices of the modern world by closing the blog, or to "take arms" as Hamlet said, by voicing my opposition through the blog. Which is the more nobel fight, the more righteous cause. Am I fighting the good fight by trying to point out what I feel is not right in the world, or would a heightened humility do better to serve me, and by association, all you who read this blog.

The seasonal holiday break, intensive studies, and a good dose of humility have led me to think quite thoroughly on this topic. Should I pack up and leave, trusting in providence and the intellect of my readers to come to the conclusions I write about on their own?

In part - no. I obviously trust the ability and understanding of my readers. Otherwise I wouldn't pose such  questions to you, questions which can sometimes be quite confronting. But if I were to close the blog then I would feel that you would be left alone in a wilderness of stupidity, and possibly thinking that you are the only sane person to come to the same conclusions which I write about.

I will therefore be keeping this blog alive. Not only as an outlet for myself, but as a place where you too can have a voice through my words, and through your comments. You can also have a voice by emailing me at the blog email address, noblogtoolong@gmail.com if there is something you would like to see discussed on the blog.

Another apology for not having written to you all lately. The reason which I haven't written anything of late is that my entries have felt more like essays than blog entries, going on for many pages. Its not that I haven't been writing, I just haven't been posting. The issues which I've been tackling in my writing can't be condensed to a 500 word limit (which is really all a blog entry should be), so I'm currently working on a new site format where you will be able read the article you want without being bombarded by the entire entry. Sort of like a news website. You'll see the summary on the main page and chose which article/entry to read.

I hope to have the new site up soon, but my web skills are severely lacking so I wont give you any false hope by offering a time line. I will continue to update the blog every now and then, but most of my time will be dedicated to developing the new website.

Hope you all had a great Christmas, Hanukkah, New Years, or what ever other holiday you celebrated over the last couple of months!

I look forward to writing for you all again this year and keep posted... the world is shit and I intend to write about it!