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.