Archive for August, 2015

The young woman at the supermarket checkout gave me six of the small packages: toys, she said cheerfully, one for every 10 Euros spent in store today. She then bubbled on: “You can find someone to give them to, I’m sure, or put them around the house as decorations.”

I laughed, with her, rather than at her (or was it the other way around?). Certainly, I was bemused. I’m fairly sure she meant no insult. But. But I wonder exactly what led her to surmise what she implied (at least to me). That I don’t have kids of my own who would like toys? That I may want to “gift” one of these stupid trinkets to someone else’s child in order to induce some kind of heinous act, or facilitate some sick fantasy (yes, like, I dream of stealing a kid). Or, hang on, maybe her chat and wit was based more on her perception of me as young (younger than I really am) and too hip and avant-garde to be burdened with a tampon replacement. Yes, that’s it. Yes, that’s it.


Copy this.

Posted: 2015-08-17 in Thoughts For The Day

Fuck the queen, fuck the would-be king, fuck the baby prince, fuck them all until they renounce the pretence of their existence. They bring nothing to me, they (would-if-they-could) take everything from me. I don’t care if they feel intruded upon, violated somehow, feel they have something to say; I don’t care if they think they have influence and sway. (Let them do hard time in Oz (the name on the street for… Albany Prison), then I might want to hear their comments!) … I do care that others care, that others want a touch and a glimpse, that others name their kids after the royal tampon replacement – fuck all of them too, deluded asses, looking for direction and meaning in temporal, temporary places. Caverns full of ants devouring the already scorched earth above them, ready to collapse.

Decathletes are adulation-junkies. Beneath the pretty perfectly sculpted physiques and the exceptional athletic abilities, they are sad, depleted individuals, so I am informed. Word is, if you feed them a seed, no matter how bizarre, or weird, they will peck it like a hungry, malnourished parrot. And it will grow in their gut. Feed their egos, even in a back-handed, destructive way, and they will do anything, sooner or later, no matter how ridiculous, whatever it takes to reignite the fame wheel, family chatter and clatter in their ears, money, interest, compound, coins jangle, and that vague memory of a cereal box. … Do it! … Decathletes are sad.

Broken, beat-up, aching, screwed-up, depleted most egregiously. All for the sake of a wall, messed-up.

Yeah. Do the right thing. Be the real thing. Yeah, yeah, yeah. The snow needs to be unquestionable, not like Canberra baloney sleet.

Oh my, the lies we say, in an everyday way, every day. Lies, to our “line mangers”, to authority figures, to family and friends, trying to explain ourselves (always inadequately), to ourselves. Lies and distortions, always justified by something or other, always based in truth or desire, faith declarations, one way or another. Is it an expression of a constant expectation of hope? What we really want? Faith declarations, by Jesus? Or just a convenience thing, an expedience? A lob put up, in order to buy us time? No matter, the whys or wherefores: we will lie tomorrow too, even when we don’t have to.


Posted: 2015-08-12 in Thoughts For The Day

Complications and automatic writing. Running to stand still. Cliché. Asshole tradesmen, charging like a wounded bull, using a garbage bin as their work surface platform, speaks plenty. Ahoy. Hello, Heidi, can you speak other than Norwegian? Massive uphill victory!

The news.

Posted: 2015-08-11 in Thoughts For The Day

Sometimes (always) the news is old, based on what has come before. Sometimes you already know what is about to be said. Sometimes it doesn’t matter and you really wished they hadn’t bothered (like force-fed geese, churning out a diseased liver, for public consumption, as quickly and money-effective, market-driven, as is possible (screw the quality control)). Yes, sometimes, always, the news is old, tomorrow and today. … But the public still likes the taste of your misery – so keep getting stuffed!

The guy they’ve invited to speak on the news program counters allegations against his organization by deflecting: he stresses the point that 10% of taxi drivers in the southern state have a criminal record.

Oh, really? So what? Does that mean we should despair in our legal system because they’ve let these “good-for-nothing sons-of-bitches” out way too early? Does it mean “once a con, always a con”? Does it mean that doing a crime and paying the time is meaningless, because you’ll always be tar-stained by that brush? Does it mean that there is no hope for change and/or rehabilitation/redemption? Does it mean that you should feel safe being alone with the psychopath who has flown under the radar, killed and dismembered 17, but has no criminal record, and has pictures of his smiling family in his cab?


So what?

Perceptions are everything and nothing.

But we lock people away on the basis of them (one way or another). Never to be trusted *again*.

Sentenced to life by a five-second sentence. Period. Full-stop.

My point is: we are all capable of doing heinous things. Just because I was caught, after one stupid mistake, that shouldn’t mean I’m treated as scum for life. The court sentences you, you go to prison (trust me, that’s no picnic), you do the time (get brutalized, get raped, get degraded on every level), you come out (shattered), you try to make a fresh start, try to do the right thing, only for some stupid prick to wave a flag and mark you out once again, punishment served, “slate wiped clean”, ahem, a free man, but still a danger to society, someone to spit upon when other targets are too lofty – low hanging fruit.


Posted: 2015-08-09 in Thoughts For The Day

You want me to answer what? You want me to provide those details? You want me to sift through an infinite list of irrelevance and enter innumerable answers of banality, individually? You want to subject me to a torturously idiotic, un-user-friendly online process? You want me to waste my time, energy and psyche on a maybe?


You are determined to dement and foment. To send the applicant off the edge.

Lost in translation, the farmer only seems to understand one in every four words I say.

He’s too lazy to actually listen.

His loss.

Your loss.

Everybody’s loss.

This is the world we live in.

Stupid by choice and comfort and laziness and self-righteous idiocy which perverts and sends the cognisant off the edge.

Like, what is the point?