If you've read the last post and been wondering what the results showed, it was probably a TIA, Transient Ischemic Attack. It's like a mini-stroke caused by a blockage in blood flow to the brain.
Apparently my CT head scan showed some narrowing in my cartoid arteries, which are in the neck, that feed the brain. So if there's a blockage you get a thing much like a mini-stroke, but it doesn't cause any permanent damage because it breaks up and flows away.
So that's good!
I've had to go and have a scan of my cartoid arteries, which was no big deal. You lie down, a woman (in this case) puts gel on your neck and pushes a thing around for a few minutes while you get to listen to variations on the sound of your blood pumping away and making squishy noises. Unfortunately I can't get a digital copy of that either which sucks. It sounded cool, I wanted to sample it and make something. Oh well.
Results from that will be ready in a couple of days and then I might have to see a neurologist - so more to come later!
But at least I can now confidently use Arnie's line...
IT'S NOT A TUMOR!
...and later:
My arteries aren't blocked. My doctor said it must have been one of the smaller blood vessels further up in my brain. He also told me to "forget about it!"
"I could have one right now, sitting here talking to you," he said, "there's nothing you can do. I suggest you just move on..."
Um. OK. *Shrug*
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Monday, February 04, 2013
Who am I? Don't even go there!
Sometimes it doesn't pay to think about certain things, like who you are.
I realised that this morning. This very weird morning. I was having enough problems with external stuff, the very idea of failing to know who I am was too scary to consider so I decided, quite deliberately, not to even try to remember my own name.
I'd woken up after a late night. Not a boozy, party night - just a quiet, wide awake, brain ticking over with unpleasant stuff I have going on, couldn't get to sleep before 3am night. I wasn't especially tired but I felt kind of blank. Went about the basic morning stuff on auto-pilot. Toilet, shower, washed hair, dried hair, got dressed. And then I realised I didn't know where to go. I couldn't remember where I worked.
Having discounted previous jobs and self employments of the past, I knew where work WAS, just not what it was called. This isn't good, I thought, but since I now knew where to go, I set off on foot in that direction.
Half way there (it's under 10 minutes stroll away) I went into the cafe where I buy coffee. The usual girl was there, I said hi, and totally blanked. Coffee. I know I want coffee. There's the 3 different size cups. I want the middle one. What does this place call the middle one? It's not a "Grande", that's the servo. Isn't it? "Um, sorry, having a brain fade day!" Um, it's got writing on it... medium! It's a medium. Medium what? White. I want white, and sugar. 1 sugar. "Ah, medium white, 1 sugar please." "Flat white?" Yes! "That's the one, thanks."
Back on auto pilot, walking to work. Why can't I remember anything? Test yourself. Who do you work with? Um... Margi! The boss is Margi. And the rest of the Margi family, husband, son... Names? Um... Oh! and that girl. Pretty. Sits next to me. We work together, She's been there for years. What's her name? Jess! No, that's the receptionist. She's on holidays. Argh.
So I stop, sit on a wall and light a smoke. Drink some coffee. Look at my watch. I have 10 minutes to get it together. Start with something simple. What's my name? Shit, don't even go there, if you fail at that you'll never get off this fucking wall... Maddie! The girl I work with is Maddie!
Pleased with this breakthrough I get up and go to work.
"Good morning Derek!" says Maddie. Derek! Yeah, I'm sure I knew that. Right?
Margi comes in. "Morning... a funny thing's already happened, wanna hear? You know that job last week, where blah blah blah happened and you blah blah blahhed?"
"Um, not really, no. I seem to be, sort of, missing this morning." And I started to cry.
There must have been more conversation. No idea. Next thing I know Margi's run off and sent Geoff, her husband (Geoff!) to drive me home. I don't remember much about any conversation with Geoff in the car. I do remember him offering to drive me straight to the Medical Centre but I wanted to go home first. Try to get myself at least a bit together before dealing with that.
Anyway, he dropped me home. I finished my coffee, had another cigarette and walked to the Norwood Medical Centre to see my doctor. "Need more prescriptions?" Yep. I have a few things to talk to you about today though. "OK, let's do these first..." Well, while you're prescribing, I have this rash on my hands... "*looks* I'll give you blah blah." And it's on my scalp. Half my hair's fallen out in the last couple of months, I'm pretty worried about it. "Ah, OK *looks* hmmm... yeah, I'll give you blah blah blah." Thanks, and I couldn't remember who I am this morning, or where I work, or what coffee I buy or the names of the people I work with. And I cry again.
"I think you're alright really, just suffering from stress. To be safe though, go over to that section and they'll take blood for these tests *gives me form* and then go to the other section and they'll do a CT brain scan *gives me another form*. Come back Wednesday for the results. Take time off work until then *gives me yet another form*."
So I did all that and I feel normal again now. By lunch time I felt like me and I knew what I know. So that's good. I'm writing this down in case, for whatever reason, it all goes again.
Let's see what Wednesday brings.
I realised that this morning. This very weird morning. I was having enough problems with external stuff, the very idea of failing to know who I am was too scary to consider so I decided, quite deliberately, not to even try to remember my own name.
I'd woken up after a late night. Not a boozy, party night - just a quiet, wide awake, brain ticking over with unpleasant stuff I have going on, couldn't get to sleep before 3am night. I wasn't especially tired but I felt kind of blank. Went about the basic morning stuff on auto-pilot. Toilet, shower, washed hair, dried hair, got dressed. And then I realised I didn't know where to go. I couldn't remember where I worked.
Having discounted previous jobs and self employments of the past, I knew where work WAS, just not what it was called. This isn't good, I thought, but since I now knew where to go, I set off on foot in that direction.
Half way there (it's under 10 minutes stroll away) I went into the cafe where I buy coffee. The usual girl was there, I said hi, and totally blanked. Coffee. I know I want coffee. There's the 3 different size cups. I want the middle one. What does this place call the middle one? It's not a "Grande", that's the servo. Isn't it? "Um, sorry, having a brain fade day!" Um, it's got writing on it... medium! It's a medium. Medium what? White. I want white, and sugar. 1 sugar. "Ah, medium white, 1 sugar please." "Flat white?" Yes! "That's the one, thanks."
Back on auto pilot, walking to work. Why can't I remember anything? Test yourself. Who do you work with? Um... Margi! The boss is Margi. And the rest of the Margi family, husband, son... Names? Um... Oh! and that girl. Pretty. Sits next to me. We work together, She's been there for years. What's her name? Jess! No, that's the receptionist. She's on holidays. Argh.
So I stop, sit on a wall and light a smoke. Drink some coffee. Look at my watch. I have 10 minutes to get it together. Start with something simple. What's my name? Shit, don't even go there, if you fail at that you'll never get off this fucking wall... Maddie! The girl I work with is Maddie!
Pleased with this breakthrough I get up and go to work.
"Good morning Derek!" says Maddie. Derek! Yeah, I'm sure I knew that. Right?
Margi comes in. "Morning... a funny thing's already happened, wanna hear? You know that job last week, where blah blah blah happened and you blah blah blahhed?"
"Um, not really, no. I seem to be, sort of, missing this morning." And I started to cry.
There must have been more conversation. No idea. Next thing I know Margi's run off and sent Geoff, her husband (Geoff!) to drive me home. I don't remember much about any conversation with Geoff in the car. I do remember him offering to drive me straight to the Medical Centre but I wanted to go home first. Try to get myself at least a bit together before dealing with that.
Anyway, he dropped me home. I finished my coffee, had another cigarette and walked to the Norwood Medical Centre to see my doctor. "Need more prescriptions?" Yep. I have a few things to talk to you about today though. "OK, let's do these first..." Well, while you're prescribing, I have this rash on my hands... "*looks* I'll give you blah blah." And it's on my scalp. Half my hair's fallen out in the last couple of months, I'm pretty worried about it. "Ah, OK *looks* hmmm... yeah, I'll give you blah blah blah." Thanks, and I couldn't remember who I am this morning, or where I work, or what coffee I buy or the names of the people I work with. And I cry again.
"I think you're alright really, just suffering from stress. To be safe though, go over to that section and they'll take blood for these tests *gives me form* and then go to the other section and they'll do a CT brain scan *gives me another form*. Come back Wednesday for the results. Take time off work until then *gives me yet another form*."
So I did all that and I feel normal again now. By lunch time I felt like me and I knew what I know. So that's good. I'm writing this down in case, for whatever reason, it all goes again.
Let's see what Wednesday brings.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Human beings are overrated.
Put another way, this could have been titled "Should any thing be allowed to determine the level of importance attached to itself without regard to what other things may think about it?" I suspect many of you would agree with me that the answer to such a question would be "no, of course not." We don't want cockroaches, for instance, being able to decide that the world is all about them and the rest of us have to change our lives, habits, homes and sanitary preferences to accommodate this creepy new ruling class, do we? Obviously not. Cockroaches may well be set to inherit the earth when we're gone but in the meantime they can all fuck off and die. I have no time for cockroaches.
People, however, have pretty much all decided that we are the most important things in the world, probably the universe, possibly even the galaxy, and this is despite the fact that we are actually even worse than cockroaches. Do cockroaches destroy their environment? No, they clean it up by eating whatever shit is left scattered about. Usually by us. Do they wage wars? Kill each other? Wipe out every living thing that gets between them and their dream of ever larger insect transportation device parking facilities? Do they even have insect transportation devices? Do they go about finding other insects that don't believe in their Mighty Cockroach Deity and bore them at their doorsteps with fairytales of Godroach and his magical Son, Cockus? No. They just eat shit and smell strangely of cucumbers.
Would a cockroach ask "If a tree falls in a forest and no cockroaches are present to hear it, does it make a sound?" No, because it's a stupid question. The people-centric version is one of the most stupid questions that has ever been asked.
It would be pleasing to say it was THE most stupid question but unfortunately it's merely one of many variations on the "everything is all about us" premise, culminating in the Mother Of All Stupid Ideas, Quantum Physics.
I do not claim to understand Quantum Physics. Nobody does. I have, however, read several books on the subject (hasn't everyone?). I read a huge book on String Theory and all I came away with is that String Theory is a perfect example of how many times you will have have to change an idea which makes no sense if you insist on being able to prove it with actual facts and evidence. Just give up and do something useful instead. It doesn't matter. It will make no difference to the lives of anyone, whatever the truth is, and you'll save us all trillions of wasted dollars if you simply go on the dole and stop wasting our time.
Modern science has, it seems, run out of ideas of how to do clever, useful things like provide us with light at night time or let us look at the world through a box in our living room without ever having to leave the house again (let's face it, there's cockroaches out there!), and moved into territory that was once the province of religion. In other words, science now specialises in stuff that is clearly wrong.
If you put a cat in a box and don't feed it, it will die. It will not stay even theoretically alive just because you haven't opened the box to find out. All possibilities do not remain simultaneously suspended simply because you haven't witnessed the results of your asinine cruelty. Frankly I'm glad you're dead Mr. Schrödinger.
Anyway, back to the tree in the forest thing. I am aware, as most people tend not to be, (as it is always being misquoted and, in fact, was never even said by Bishop George Berkeley, to whom it is attributed - so perhaps misquoted is the wrong word), that the tree is supposed to be on an island with no animal life whatsoever to hear its fall. This does not make it any less stupid a question. It does, however, change the reason for the stupidity from being that other things, other than mere people (who don't, it must be said, have the best hearing in the animal kingdom), would still hear it even if a person didn't (though this reason still applies every time some twat brings it up as something that makes sense even with the presence of other living beings on the island or forest). No, the reason it is still stupid is that it could never happen and it doesn't matter anyway. There is no such thing as a tree without so much as an aphid on it. Anywhere. Even if there could be, the ocean is full of stuff with the ability to hear a tree falling. Whales can hear shit from hundreds of kilometres away.
It's no use spending your lives arguing the implications of an action occurring within a set of parameters that cannot possibly exist. Please stop it.
People, however, have pretty much all decided that we are the most important things in the world, probably the universe, possibly even the galaxy, and this is despite the fact that we are actually even worse than cockroaches. Do cockroaches destroy their environment? No, they clean it up by eating whatever shit is left scattered about. Usually by us. Do they wage wars? Kill each other? Wipe out every living thing that gets between them and their dream of ever larger insect transportation device parking facilities? Do they even have insect transportation devices? Do they go about finding other insects that don't believe in their Mighty Cockroach Deity and bore them at their doorsteps with fairytales of Godroach and his magical Son, Cockus? No. They just eat shit and smell strangely of cucumbers.
Would a cockroach ask "If a tree falls in a forest and no cockroaches are present to hear it, does it make a sound?" No, because it's a stupid question. The people-centric version is one of the most stupid questions that has ever been asked.
It would be pleasing to say it was THE most stupid question but unfortunately it's merely one of many variations on the "everything is all about us" premise, culminating in the Mother Of All Stupid Ideas, Quantum Physics.
I do not claim to understand Quantum Physics. Nobody does. I have, however, read several books on the subject (hasn't everyone?). I read a huge book on String Theory and all I came away with is that String Theory is a perfect example of how many times you will have have to change an idea which makes no sense if you insist on being able to prove it with actual facts and evidence. Just give up and do something useful instead. It doesn't matter. It will make no difference to the lives of anyone, whatever the truth is, and you'll save us all trillions of wasted dollars if you simply go on the dole and stop wasting our time.
Modern science has, it seems, run out of ideas of how to do clever, useful things like provide us with light at night time or let us look at the world through a box in our living room without ever having to leave the house again (let's face it, there's cockroaches out there!), and moved into territory that was once the province of religion. In other words, science now specialises in stuff that is clearly wrong.
If you put a cat in a box and don't feed it, it will die. It will not stay even theoretically alive just because you haven't opened the box to find out. All possibilities do not remain simultaneously suspended simply because you haven't witnessed the results of your asinine cruelty. Frankly I'm glad you're dead Mr. Schrödinger.
Anyway, back to the tree in the forest thing. I am aware, as most people tend not to be, (as it is always being misquoted and, in fact, was never even said by Bishop George Berkeley, to whom it is attributed - so perhaps misquoted is the wrong word), that the tree is supposed to be on an island with no animal life whatsoever to hear its fall. This does not make it any less stupid a question. It does, however, change the reason for the stupidity from being that other things, other than mere people (who don't, it must be said, have the best hearing in the animal kingdom), would still hear it even if a person didn't (though this reason still applies every time some twat brings it up as something that makes sense even with the presence of other living beings on the island or forest). No, the reason it is still stupid is that it could never happen and it doesn't matter anyway. There is no such thing as a tree without so much as an aphid on it. Anywhere. Even if there could be, the ocean is full of stuff with the ability to hear a tree falling. Whales can hear shit from hundreds of kilometres away.
It's no use spending your lives arguing the implications of an action occurring within a set of parameters that cannot possibly exist. Please stop it.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
And another neighbour pisses me off
Dear Inconsiderate Neighbour,
I wish to complain about the barking from your dog. I was woken at 6.33 this morning by it and by 7.30 it had become so bad that I gave up any further attempts at sleeping and got up. I am obviously not pleased about this.
This is far from being the first time that this has happened.
You are either deaf or your house must have double glazing because your dog barks throughout the day and night and yet you make no effort whatsoever to keep it quiet. Clearly you are not even trying to train your dog to behave and this is unacceptable in a residential area.
This is not the dog’s fault, it is yours. Your lack of action on this matter is not only causing distress to your neighbours but it also constitutes neglect of the animal as it is obviously being left outside on its own most of the time.
Be aware that I am logging the times and dates when the barking annoys me and I will be complaining to you on a regular basis, and keeping records of my complaints. At some time I will present this evidence to the council who will then notify you and you may be fined. If the situation continues then the dog may be taken from you. I know exactly how this works because I have been through the process before.
I would prefer not to have to bother with all that, it’s tedious and a pain. I love animals and have no desire to upset your family. Nothing would please me more than for you to take a proper interest in fixing the situation yourself, without me having to proceed with the process outlined above. I highly recommend Bark Busters to you. Friends of mine had great success with their methods.
Regards,
Derek...
I wish to complain about the barking from your dog. I was woken at 6.33 this morning by it and by 7.30 it had become so bad that I gave up any further attempts at sleeping and got up. I am obviously not pleased about this.
This is far from being the first time that this has happened.
You are either deaf or your house must have double glazing because your dog barks throughout the day and night and yet you make no effort whatsoever to keep it quiet. Clearly you are not even trying to train your dog to behave and this is unacceptable in a residential area.
This is not the dog’s fault, it is yours. Your lack of action on this matter is not only causing distress to your neighbours but it also constitutes neglect of the animal as it is obviously being left outside on its own most of the time.
Be aware that I am logging the times and dates when the barking annoys me and I will be complaining to you on a regular basis, and keeping records of my complaints. At some time I will present this evidence to the council who will then notify you and you may be fined. If the situation continues then the dog may be taken from you. I know exactly how this works because I have been through the process before.
I would prefer not to have to bother with all that, it’s tedious and a pain. I love animals and have no desire to upset your family. Nothing would please me more than for you to take a proper interest in fixing the situation yourself, without me having to proceed with the process outlined above. I highly recommend Bark Busters to you. Friends of mine had great success with their methods.
Regards,
Derek...
Saturday, July 16, 2011
End of Financial Year Report
For the first time in over a decade I am completely up to date in all of my dealings with everyone. Even the tax department!
I don't owe anybody a cent, I have no unpaid bills, no unfiled tax returns.
I've even paid the ATO all the money I DIDN'T owe them but they wanted anyway as tax on money I didn't even earn but hadn't bothered to fill in their bloody forms to say I hadn't earned it. They say I SHOULD get some of that back (and we're talking $12,450 that I had to pay over the last 12 months so it's not insignificant) but I'm not holding my breath. I'm sure they'll find a way to keep all of it because they seem to love to screw me over.
By my reckoning, the ATO owes me about $8000 back from the above plus 3 tax returns totalling about $2500 = $10,500. A boy can dream.
What's the bet I get nothing? I'm putting the odds at about even.
I don't owe anybody a cent, I have no unpaid bills, no unfiled tax returns.
I've even paid the ATO all the money I DIDN'T owe them but they wanted anyway as tax on money I didn't even earn but hadn't bothered to fill in their bloody forms to say I hadn't earned it. They say I SHOULD get some of that back (and we're talking $12,450 that I had to pay over the last 12 months so it's not insignificant) but I'm not holding my breath. I'm sure they'll find a way to keep all of it because they seem to love to screw me over.
By my reckoning, the ATO owes me about $8000 back from the above plus 3 tax returns totalling about $2500 = $10,500. A boy can dream.
What's the bet I get nothing? I'm putting the odds at about even.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sick clothing for kids dressed to kill
Grumpy of Norwood Posted at 3:43 PM June 11, 2011
If I saw a baby wearing a Charles Manson T-shirt it would undoubtedly be the funniest thing I had seen that day. Seriously, the kids don't know who these serial killers or, worse still, politicians are. The images are meaningless without knowledge of the background story. It isn't corrupting them. It only means something to an adult viewing it and if those adults are offended then it only shows how thin skinned they are.
Comment 49 of 55
Friday, April 01, 2011
Smoking
I'm 50 and have been smoking since I was 15.
I love smoking. I love thinking that my body cannot regain full consciousness until I've had several cigarettes and a coffee in the morning. I love cigarettes with coffee. I love cigarettes with whisky, wine... or any other alcohol. I love gathering with other smokers to chat and gossip when everyone else is stupidly working at their desk. I particularly love it when ex-smokers at work are having such a stressful day that they ask me for a smoke. I love that a lot.
I hate smoke. The smell of it disgusts me. I hate ashtrays, nasty smelly ugly things. I hate walking into my house and having to open all the doors and windows to get rid of the smell. I hate that all the white painted walls in my house are now a streaky, unattractive buff colour. I hate that there is so much tax added to cigarettes that it's almost unaffordable. Almost. I hate that I keep having to redefine what I consider to be "affordable". I hate feeling anxious when I'm down to my last few and having to decide what I can go without in order to get another packet. I hate that I can no longer smoke where I like - in pubs, restaurants, workplaces and, here in Australia, apparently, soon, in pretty much any public area at all even if it's outdoors. I really hate people who complain about smoking too. A lot.
I had a heart attack at 45. I'm still smoking 5 years later. Although this sounds like a stupid thing to do I am perfectly capable of justifying this with the argument: It took 30 years of smoking to block one artery, that artery has been unblocked now with a stent, my other arteries have all been checked and are fine. If it takes another 30 years to block another artery I'll be 75 and that doesn't matter because, being a smoker, I'll be dead from cancer before I get to 75 anyway.
See? Makes perfect sense.
I love smoking. I love thinking that my body cannot regain full consciousness until I've had several cigarettes and a coffee in the morning. I love cigarettes with coffee. I love cigarettes with whisky, wine... or any other alcohol. I love gathering with other smokers to chat and gossip when everyone else is stupidly working at their desk. I particularly love it when ex-smokers at work are having such a stressful day that they ask me for a smoke. I love that a lot.
I hate smoke. The smell of it disgusts me. I hate ashtrays, nasty smelly ugly things. I hate walking into my house and having to open all the doors and windows to get rid of the smell. I hate that all the white painted walls in my house are now a streaky, unattractive buff colour. I hate that there is so much tax added to cigarettes that it's almost unaffordable. Almost. I hate that I keep having to redefine what I consider to be "affordable". I hate feeling anxious when I'm down to my last few and having to decide what I can go without in order to get another packet. I hate that I can no longer smoke where I like - in pubs, restaurants, workplaces and, here in Australia, apparently, soon, in pretty much any public area at all even if it's outdoors. I really hate people who complain about smoking too. A lot.
I had a heart attack at 45. I'm still smoking 5 years later. Although this sounds like a stupid thing to do I am perfectly capable of justifying this with the argument: It took 30 years of smoking to block one artery, that artery has been unblocked now with a stent, my other arteries have all been checked and are fine. If it takes another 30 years to block another artery I'll be 75 and that doesn't matter because, being a smoker, I'll be dead from cancer before I get to 75 anyway.
See? Makes perfect sense.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Life Tips
- If a woman says she's upset about X, it's not about X. It dates back to Q and you don't even know what Q is.
- Obey the laws of mixology. If nobody else drinks Gin & Coke™, there's probably a good reason.
- When drinking, remove your cigarette from your mouth first to avoid ruining both your cigarette and drink.
- You can forget things as often as you like as long as you remember it when you actually need to.
- Ibuprofen + codeine painkillers washed down with tequila are your friends.
- It's tricky to drink while dancing in your chair to 80's pop, but not impossible.
- To avoid hangovers, drink enough to wake up still a little bit drunk.
- If you have long hair, tie it back before using a power drill. Seriously.
- When crossing the road, look not only left and right but down, around, and possibly up.
- Have just the right amount of alcohol that won't make you violent but is enough to block out reality.
- I forget.
- An empty glass is nature's way of telling you it's time to check the stuff frying on the stove.
- Ginger Ale makes a nice change of mixer, from Coke™, sometimes.
- Get pissed before you have your Drivers Licence photo taken so if you ever get pulled over drunk, they think you look normal.
- If you would rather that dirty old men such as myself didn't gawp at you, try tucking your genitalia up inside your "shorts."
- Never bullshit a bullshitter.
- Smiley Faces excuse a multitude of rudnesses.
- That thing you can't find and have been looking for everywhere is actually in the first place you looked. Look harder.
- Do not accidentally snort vinegar.
- When in doubt, cook sausages.
- If you ignore dentistry altogether, any problems that arise eventually fix themselves.
Monday, April 19, 2010
“I’m gonna frappé fuckin’ egg whites!”
I could tell from the sound of him that he had The Look.
Usually it’s hard to tell what they really say, I’m sure he didn’t really scream “frappé” or “egg whites” but it doesn’t matter. I could just tell from the sound of him that he had it, the stare which was both vacant and intense, focussed on a thought you could see would cause him a lifetime of pain and anger. The look of being somewhere else. A scary look, one you try not to get caught observing too closely.
I went to the window, peered out through the curtains, past the locked front gate, and saw a solitary silhouette staggering away up the road towards the pub. I could hear the word “fuck” and its variants a lot, standing out among other words I couldn’t make out as they faded away.
They always pick me when I’m out. The person who might understand them, the person to whom they should explain, or ask to explain to them, something they have now decided is happening. The person who might give them money for a phone call or cigarettes or alcohol, who offers no threat because I’m passive looking, the person who might not judge them badly because I look like a hippy. The person who might be a soft touch because I guess I must look like one.
There are some regulars with The Look that I see almost every day. Until recently I knew none of their names and so I gave them my own, which I would share with friends, who laughed. The Dwarf and Lurch were the most visible. I needn’t bother describing them, the names already do that.
One evening a friend and I were having a beer, alfresco, among a group of empty tables and chairs on the pavement between a pub and a busy intersection. The Dwarf staggered around the corner, spotted me and headed straight in my direction in his own peculiar swerving way. I was, as usual, smoking while gratuitously looking like a non-threatening hippy, so I saw it coming.
“Fuck off Milo!” came a female voice from behind me before he had time to speak. I looked at my friend Nat and knew at once that it hadn’t been her. She was laughing at something behind her. I looked further around and there, stopped at the side of the road was a police car with a young female officer leaning out of the passenger side window. She yelled, again, “Fuck OFF Milo!” as I stared at her, open mouthed and dropped of jaw. So now I know that The Dwarf is called Milo.
He asked me for a light, I gave him one. The lights went green and the police car drove off. Milo weaved away. Nat went inside for another round of beers. I walked three doors down the road and hid the glasses from the last round on my front lawn, came back and resumed my seated position before Nat returned. The perfect crime.
Usually it’s hard to tell what they really say, I’m sure he didn’t really scream “frappé” or “egg whites” but it doesn’t matter. I could just tell from the sound of him that he had it, the stare which was both vacant and intense, focussed on a thought you could see would cause him a lifetime of pain and anger. The look of being somewhere else. A scary look, one you try not to get caught observing too closely.
I went to the window, peered out through the curtains, past the locked front gate, and saw a solitary silhouette staggering away up the road towards the pub. I could hear the word “fuck” and its variants a lot, standing out among other words I couldn’t make out as they faded away.
They always pick me when I’m out. The person who might understand them, the person to whom they should explain, or ask to explain to them, something they have now decided is happening. The person who might give them money for a phone call or cigarettes or alcohol, who offers no threat because I’m passive looking, the person who might not judge them badly because I look like a hippy. The person who might be a soft touch because I guess I must look like one.
There are some regulars with The Look that I see almost every day. Until recently I knew none of their names and so I gave them my own, which I would share with friends, who laughed. The Dwarf and Lurch were the most visible. I needn’t bother describing them, the names already do that.
One evening a friend and I were having a beer, alfresco, among a group of empty tables and chairs on the pavement between a pub and a busy intersection. The Dwarf staggered around the corner, spotted me and headed straight in my direction in his own peculiar swerving way. I was, as usual, smoking while gratuitously looking like a non-threatening hippy, so I saw it coming.
“Fuck off Milo!” came a female voice from behind me before he had time to speak. I looked at my friend Nat and knew at once that it hadn’t been her. She was laughing at something behind her. I looked further around and there, stopped at the side of the road was a police car with a young female officer leaning out of the passenger side window. She yelled, again, “Fuck OFF Milo!” as I stared at her, open mouthed and dropped of jaw. So now I know that The Dwarf is called Milo.
He asked me for a light, I gave him one. The lights went green and the police car drove off. Milo weaved away. Nat went inside for another round of beers. I walked three doors down the road and hid the glasses from the last round on my front lawn, came back and resumed my seated position before Nat returned. The perfect crime.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Internet Filtering
Dear Senator Conroy,
While there are very few people who would complain about action being taken against the availability of child pornography, it seems the vast majority of informed people agree that the proposed internet filter is simply not the way to go about it. To proceed with this action will have very little effect against the obvious primary target, as such material is apparently spread largely though Peer to Peer (P2P) networks and other methods which would be unaffected by the filter.
It is also reported that targets for the filter are to include other material deemed unfit, or "unclassifiable" by the government. I'm afraid that most people, myself included, do not consider censoring material available to the rest of the world to be part of a democratic government role. In fact it would be a disgusting perversion of the that role to start bocking access to anything that it considered unfit without first gaining absolute agreement from the citizens it is elected to serve on what exactly this material should be. And I mean 100% agreement from all citizens.
Nobody is going to publicly support blatant child pornography, so you'd think the blocking of such material would gain this absolute agreement but, as evidenced earlier this year with the outcry against legitimate, artistic photography of children, even this broad heading contains grey areas. It is extremely important, essential even, that the arbitrary judgements of a few do not become entrenched as an absolute ruling on what is and isn't suitable for the entire population.
Governments are elected to run things. Finance, health care, infrastructure, etc. They are not elected as a moral minority bent on promoting ignorance on matters such as euthanasia, drugs, religion or any other topic you may consider yourselves qualified to decide upon. Nor should it be governments' role to act upon such judgements by restricting access to any side of any debate. No government, or minority group of any kind, is qualified to make such decisions except in the most obvious cases which everyone agrees on. And let's face it, there are very few things that everyone agrees on, if any.
There are also the widely argued points of the slowing down of the internet which this filter would cause, and other technical aspects which I freely admit I am not qualified to argue about. The problem is, however, that neither are you. Testing of the system has been limited and the promised public consultation process has been limited to a few details which do not include the central issue of whether or not to even have a filter at all. This is unacceptable and I remind you that this is a democracy. You are our elected govenrment, not our nanny.
Yours sincerely,
Derek Armsden
While there are very few people who would complain about action being taken against the availability of child pornography, it seems the vast majority of informed people agree that the proposed internet filter is simply not the way to go about it. To proceed with this action will have very little effect against the obvious primary target, as such material is apparently spread largely though Peer to Peer (P2P) networks and other methods which would be unaffected by the filter.
It is also reported that targets for the filter are to include other material deemed unfit, or "unclassifiable" by the government. I'm afraid that most people, myself included, do not consider censoring material available to the rest of the world to be part of a democratic government role. In fact it would be a disgusting perversion of the that role to start bocking access to anything that it considered unfit without first gaining absolute agreement from the citizens it is elected to serve on what exactly this material should be. And I mean 100% agreement from all citizens.
Nobody is going to publicly support blatant child pornography, so you'd think the blocking of such material would gain this absolute agreement but, as evidenced earlier this year with the outcry against legitimate, artistic photography of children, even this broad heading contains grey areas. It is extremely important, essential even, that the arbitrary judgements of a few do not become entrenched as an absolute ruling on what is and isn't suitable for the entire population.
Governments are elected to run things. Finance, health care, infrastructure, etc. They are not elected as a moral minority bent on promoting ignorance on matters such as euthanasia, drugs, religion or any other topic you may consider yourselves qualified to decide upon. Nor should it be governments' role to act upon such judgements by restricting access to any side of any debate. No government, or minority group of any kind, is qualified to make such decisions except in the most obvious cases which everyone agrees on. And let's face it, there are very few things that everyone agrees on, if any.
There are also the widely argued points of the slowing down of the internet which this filter would cause, and other technical aspects which I freely admit I am not qualified to argue about. The problem is, however, that neither are you. Testing of the system has been limited and the promised public consultation process has been limited to a few details which do not include the central issue of whether or not to even have a filter at all. This is unacceptable and I remind you that this is a democracy. You are our elected govenrment, not our nanny.
Yours sincerely,
Derek Armsden
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The range of garments, in sizes from 000 rompers for three-month-old babies to T-shirts for children up to 12, has sparked international outrage.
The Ivan Milat baby romper has a picture of his face and the slogan: "Australians Just Love Backpackers"...
Link to article & comments