Raven Paradox

What a pack of animals that unruly mob of Abos were.

We are often told that we need to do more for the Aboriginal people, reconcile with them, provide them with more funding, better welfare services, better health care.

Up until now,  I have always agreed.

Whilst it is debatable as to whether or not the abos were the first people of Australia – it is thought by some scholars that they perhaps displaced a native people themselves – they have copped the rough end of the stick for a portion of the past 200 odd years.

The actions of the welfare recipients of the Tent Embassy yesterday, threatening the safety of our Prime Minister and the Opposition Leader was disgusting.

The Aboriginal people regularly complain about being stereotyped and treated like second class citizens.

The mob in Canberra yesterday showed why that is often the case.

If those 200 or so people applied themselves in the pursuit of work and education (for which they receive significant incentives  and benefits above and beyond that of non Aboriginals), as they did during their grubby protest yesterday, perhaps there would be no need for the Australian tax payer to continually reach into his and her pocket in order to prop them up.

The Tent Embassy should be burned to the ground. It is irrelevant and merely provides an excuse for a mob to sit around draining the coffers of the welfare system.

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We don’t choose to be born.

We have no say in that.

Two people fornicate, and in the pinball machine that is the uterus, somehow one sperm (sometimes more than one) travel onward prior to the act of corona radiata whereby one or more happen to penetrate the ova.

From here on in, cell division takes place.

Around nine months later, nature willing, a child is born.

In an ideal world, that child, helpless and unable to fend for itself, is cared for by those who gave it life until such a time that it can make choices of its own.

Following that, it dips its toe into the cesspool of humanity and attempts to forge a path for itself.

It may last a week, it may last ninety years.

Its quality of life may be good, it may be bad.

Does any human have the right to decree that another human should suffer?

Define suffering.

For me, it comes down to quality of life.

Does this human being exist in a dignified state, one that they would wish others to remember them in?

If not, should they, or others who care for them, be able to assist them in ending their suffering in a dignified manner?

Yes.

You don’t have a choice when it comes to your conception.

You are owed a choice when it comes to your death.

It is your life, your choice.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is a cunt.

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Where possible, I always buy Australian owned products.

If it isn’t possible to buy something that is Australian owned, I at least try to ensure that it is Australian made.

The only exception being Fry’s Vegetarian food products and the Quorn meat free range. Whilst I know that Sanitarium is an Australian owned company, because of their “religious” status, Sanitarium is tax exempt and does not pay a single dollar of tax on their company profits. I can’t really stomach that fact and try to avoid them where possible, and besides, Fry’s in particular is a superior product to Sanitarium with Quorn a close second.

Up until a few years ago, one could still find an Australian owned equivalent of any of the foreign owned products in both Coles and Woolworths.

These days, it is nigh on impossible.

Coles have been pushing other brand products off their shelves for some time now, filling the space with their own range of products – usually sourced or made in China, Thailand and other places. No doubt this is done due to the “cost effectiveness” (read – increased profit margin).

I stopped shopping at Coles when I could no longer find several of my favourite Australian owned brands on their shelves any more.

Sadly, the same thing is happening at Woolworths. Each time I go there, more and more shelf space has been taken up by Woolworths’ imported, home brand products.

It isn’t enough that most of our iconic brands are now in foreign hands:

• Arnott’s
• Mynor
• Cottees
• Golden Circle
• Vegemite (for Christ’s sake)

Now, in the pursuit of greed and profit, the big supermarkets are pushing out the few Australian owned food manufacturers products and replacing them with imported rubbish.

Dick Smith has a list of the brands that we have lost:

Foreign ownership of Australian brands

He also has a list of reasons for buying Australian owned products:

Why buy Australian owned?

There are also a couple of sites that can help you find out if a product is truly Australian owned:

Australian owned products

Ausbuy

A couple of brands that I can wholeheartedly recommend that are Australian owned are:

• Roeslla (now back in Australian hands)
• 333
• The Conga foods range
• Aristocrat

Instead of eating a 9 month old baby sheep this Australia Day, buy some Australian owned products instead.

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I consider myself to be a reasonably tolerant, rational, calm and accepting person; but there is something that has the ability to really get under my skin – the question:

“So what star sign are you?”

My answer is always the same:

“I don’t have one”.

This answer produces a myriad of reactions – from amusement to incomprehension to indignance. If I haven’t already made up my mind about someone prior to them asking such an inane question, their response to my answer certainly seals the deal.

To some, astrology may be “fun to think about”, but to me it is a ludicrous pseudo science with the potential to cause harm in much the same way as religion if taken too seriously.

I believe that there are two types of adherents to astrology – casual newspaper readers and “sun sign” devotees. The boundaries between them can tend to blur however.

Before I forge on however, I will declare my hand.

I became an atheist at about age eight, yet I held on to astrology for some reason for another four or five years. I am not quite sure why that was, religion and astrology share so many common factors:

• neither are backed up by any form of logic, science or rationality
• both involve worship of the sun or suns (as a god or some kind of influential factor)
• both were ideas framed by superstitious peasants not fortunate enough to have access to the reasoning that science has provided us with
• both make assertions that are highly improbable and require a leap of “faith”
• both fill holes in vacuous minds
• both give “hope” to the weak and fragile

There are many more commonalities, but I think that you get the drift.

I fell into the casual newspaper reader category for a short while before exploring it further and even as a young teenager, knew that it even were one to become a devotee, the premise behind it was flawed. Why I didn’t desert it as soon as I became an atheist, I am not quite sure. I suppose that it was “nice to think about”.

The simple fact of the matter is that this pseudo science was created over 4000 years ago, prior to most of the planets and stars we now know exist having been discovered. The “charts” that are used to plot ones life path, “destiny”, future are flawed and incomplete.

Even if there was any rationality behind this trickery, the premise would be flawed for that reason, but also due the fact that the light from the stars upon which this court jestery is based comes to us from several million years past.

Withholding disbelief for a moment, say for example that astrology carries any kind of weight, are you going to tell me that simply because of where some celestial bodies were at the moment I was born, the path of my life has been preordained?

If that is the case, why on earth do we have any crime/misfortune/famine/disease/war etc etc in the world? Surely if this pseudo science had any merit, there would be teams of astrologers working away with the birth records of every one of the 200,000+ children born every single day, plotting their charts and making recommendations of infanticide to the appropriate authorities in various regions throughout the world.

You see were astrology in any way, shape or form; real – it wouldn’t suffer from the paradox of free will and omniscience/omnipotence in the same way that religion does.

Its proponents claim that based upon the date, hour and minute of your birth; your nature can be explicitly defined, with no room for error.

If you are this sign, you are stubborn, if you are that sign, you are loyal, if you are another, you are sexual… fuck me, we are human beings, each subject to completely unique experiences, born with unique abilities and moulded by our unique environments – a person with a modicum of intelligence may just give a moderate amount more weight to such things than the position of the stars and planets when one is born…

What really concerns me though, is the amount of atheists that I have met who continue to afford this charlatanry any kind of credence.

Three of the most devout devotees to astrology I have met were also devout atheists. One would think that their atheism would engender rationality. Sadly, attempting to have a discussion with them about astrology was met with the same kind of response as one would encounter when discussing relgion with a fundamentalist theist. ’twas most perplexing to me to say the least.

I know that that is hardly a scientific sample size, but to me, it illustrated humankinds irrational desire to seek a higher purpose, something other than themselves; almost as if we have an innate desire to abdicate responsibility for our own choices and the path that our life takes.

To me, this makes astrology potentially as dangerous as religion when in the wrong hands and I sincerely believe that the slippery slope principle applies equally.

The only difference is that there is no vengeful deity who will smite you, should you choose not to worship the stars.

Perhaps that is what makes it comforting for “weak” atheists – they want to believe in something, just not an angry bearded guy in the sky who will smite them if they disobey…

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I used to share an office with a fellow called Gurpreet. A very opinionated, though nice enough gentleman, he once described himself as an “indolent Indian”.

I was working 16 hour days at the time, and he once asked me why I put in so much effort to what he described as a “waste of time with a two bit telco”.

As he was a Sikh, I couldn’t really grasp where he was coming from.

The business telecommunications company that I was working for was run by a couple of knockabout blokes who had no qualms about rewarding initiative via means of gifts, incentives, bonuses and pay rises.

Gurpreet used to sit at his desk all day, betting and watching live streams of the Indian cricket team.

The Indian cricket team were winning at that time and he used to give me quite a razzing, oftentimes telling me how they would humiliate Australia when they next toured.

I politely donned my headphones and got on with my work.

Gurpreet once asked me how he could get a pay rise in this company.

I told him that he needed to take the initiative, write up a business plan, suggest some positive changes for the organisation, get on the front foot.

In hindsight, that advice may have been dual edged.

The Indian cricket team haven’t taken any initiative, though they have played far too many strokes on the front foot, leading to their miserable collapses in the first innings of each test this summer in Australia.

Perhaps Gurpreet could have done both, perhaps MS Dhoni could have at least taken some initiative and shown some leadership.

With Australia cruising towards a first innings lead without loss, it looks like a good time for effigy sellers to start plying their trade.

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George Calombaris is, in the opinion of this writer, a very average human being.

• An average chef
• Average looking
• Of average intelligence
• An average television performer
• Average when it comes to kindness to one’s fellow man

In this article in the Sydney Morning Herald, this fine specimen and advocate for workers rights, bitches and moans about having to pay his hard working staff penalty rates.

To quote:

And it’s not like they’ve had to go to uni for 15 years

Apart from someone doing a double degree or a doctorate, who does?

Does a uni degree make someone more employable or just provide them with knowledge?

Can a highly intelligent individual who has managed to get a degree in both dentistry and psychology be taught how to empathise with their patient?

Of course, Calombaris has been to uni for 15 years:

Calombaris studied at Box Hill Institute of TAFE and won the Bon Land scholarship in 1999 while an apprentice.

… so he is exceptionally well qualified to make such comments about education.

This is a man who has made a fortune out of:

• Cutting meat and vegetables
• Tasting things and over dramatically sighing when he approves
• Telling people what they should and shouldn’t like the taste of
• Making an arse out of himself on Australian television
• Being mean to people who aspire to become a chef
• Putting his smug face on things sold in Woolworths
• Claiming that he is in some way, superior to his fellow human

With all of the success that he has somehow stumbled into, he now wishes to penalise people who are only putting up with him as an employer in order to put themselves through uni and are probably living on two minute noodles, because he doesn’t quite have enough money just yet.

What a fucking disgrace.

George, you are, and will forever be in my eyes, a complete fuckwit.

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If anyone is looking for the best bird vet or avian vet in Sydney, I couldn’t recommend Sydney Animal Hospitals at Kellyville with enough praise.

Doctor Kathy Fearnside has been a remarkable find for our family – one that currently consists of not less than six parrots.

Two weeks ago, she saved The Kakariki from a spiral wing fracture – something that kills most birds.

Not only did she save her, but didn’t charge a wing and a claw for it either, and provided exceptional care.

Today, my naughty lorikeet Lucifer, as he is want to do, decided to be exceptionally naughty and feast upon an avocado – something quite poisonous to parrots. At 7pm on a Thursday evening, she was able to do an emergency consult within 30 minutes of it occurring.

She flushed his crop, and whilst he isn’t out of the woods just yet, she has given him a good chance of getting through it.

This post is a means of saying thank you to Dr Kathy and the staff at Sydney Animal Hospitals, Kellyville, for the fantastic job that they have done with our parrots thus far.

If you need a bird specialist vet in Sydney, look no further:

http://www.sydneyanimalhospitals.com.au/en/Our-Hospitals/Kellyville-vet-hospital/

Thank you, Dr Kathy and the team at Sydney Animal Hospitals Kellyville.

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One can use the power of the internets for both good and evil.

I like it best when it is used for evil.

That said, I am going to attempt, for once, to use it for good.

Today, I received an Xmas card, addressed to Arthur and Ann.

I often receive incorrectly addressed mail. Usually they have a return address on them and am able to mark them RTS. This one did not, so I could not.

I, instead, opened it, hoping to find an address that I could send it back to along with a note, informing the sender that they had mis-mailed their card.

Sadly, there was no return address, rather a nice note and a 20 pound note.

I am hoping, vainly, that someone, somewhere, may know who Arthur and Ann are, or indeed, Jan.

If you do, please drop me a note via a comment on this page and I will make sure that the card and the note go to the rightful owners.

Please include in your comment (which will not be published), the postmark that you think that the card originated from.

If I can’t find the rightful owners, I shall match it and donate it to a charity – probably a children’s or cancer charity (or combination thereof) – your suggestions would be appreciated. If anyone else wants to match the 20 quid as well in the case we can’t find the owner, please feel free.

On a side note, whilst attempting to resize the image in Photoshop, I received this error message:

Pretty good recognition, considering the image.

Technology…

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If there is one thing that annoys me more than one of those pathetic “baby on board” signs, or the fucking reindeer antlers and red noses on cars at Xmas time, it is those fucking “my family” stickers.

Homo sapiens have, without help, just like all other species, been breeding for about 200,000 years, and, that unlike most other species, have begun to devolve rather than evolve (I mean, any drunken bogan can slam its cock into the cunt of a drunken boganette and produce a rat tailed, pathetic oxygen thief who will be forever dependent on welfare or crime to get through life). Why do people feel the need to display the fact that they have managed to somehow fumble their way through the process of conception and child birth?

Despite the fact that these stickers are inane, conform to the herd mentality, are mass produced by Chinese child labour and are indisputably moronic, let’s take a look at what the above rendition illustrates.

A beer gutted alcoholic who is only good for slapping slabs of cow onto a burning furnace, two retarded, precocious children and a person of no specific gender attempting to electrocute a fish with some kind of magical powers.

I suppose that that is better than the usual stickers that you see, the man cooking the barbie, the woman going shopping, both kids are either cricket or tennis champions – the fucking Aussie stereotype.

That said, what kind or moron has any desire to emblazon their petrol guzzling four wheel drive (that’s right, they *aren’t* SUVs); for that is predominantly the kind of vehicle you see them on, with an indication of not only that they were somehow able to achieve what comes naturally to even the most unevolved forms of life, but that they are indeed proud of the fact that the father of the family is a drunk who beats his wife?

That is what I take from the above.

Fuck you, fuck your family, and a fatwa on the cunts who created the stickers.

Let’s get it straight – any moron can breed. Your family and friends know you have children – the rest of us don’t give a flying fuck.

You aren’t original for having a fictitious depiction of your “happy family” on the back of your car, you are a fucking sheep.

What I’d like to see were real representations of family life – Fritzl style.

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Last night, I went to see Opeth for the third time – at The Enmore in Sydney.

As always, they were brilliant.

Consummate professionals, clinical musicians, the very epitome of what music is to me.

Sadly, however, there were three wankers in the audience – lead by a throwback to the cro-magnon era of evolution (or should that be devolution) – who continued to abuse the band, ruin the quiet moments and call out “more metal” at every opportunity.

Obviously they weren’t devotees of the band, nor the style of music, just a bunch of pissed cunts, hell bent on ruining the night for everyone else.

One, a red haired, bearded Neanderthal, another covered in Nazi prison tatts, they were the quintessential examples of the necessity for breeding licenses.

Were I a violent man, I would have been hard pressed to refrain from instigating an “accident” in the mosh pit that they attempted to create.

If you don’t like the music, leave – or better still, go and neck your useless selves – but don’t disrespect musicians who have flown so far to entertain their true fans.

I feel compelled to apologise to Opeth for the poor behaviour of a few members from the shallow end of the gene pool at what was a fantastic display of sublime musicianship.

Thanks for coming back guys, I hope that it isn’t the last time you visit.

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