Bloodthirsty

Pain is entertaining. Other people's pain, I mean. From the gladiators of ancient Rome who maimed or killed each other to amuse the spectators gathered in one of many arenas around the empire, to the modern day exponents of mixed martial arts who do battle inside cages while the UFC fans roar their approval, people have always enjoyed watching other people get injured.

It's the skill, the athleticism, the strength that we admire and love to watch, isn't it? Only partially. The truth is we like seeing other people get hurt. How else can the popularity of the Ultimate Fighting Championship be explained? Beginning quite recently in 1993, the UFC is the fastest growing sporting organization in the world, being broadcast to half a billion homes in 149 countries. 31 specific acts are considered foul play in UFC bouts,including headbutting and eye gouging, and the combatants don't use weapons,so it's relatively civilized conflict. Clearly not as barbaric as what the ancient gladiators engaged in, but it's still a bloodsport, isn't it? Two modern warriors trying to hurt each other to win money, and please the crowd.

We like other people's pain. How else can the popularity of arguably the worst show in the history of the television be explained? Funniest Home Videos serves up footage of people falling,crashing into things, being knocked over and suffering various mishaps which undoubtedly cause them some degree of pain and injury, and we laugh at them: have been laughing at them for decades. What's so funny about other people getting hurt? It's amusing because it's not us. It's not our suffering. We may feel empathy, or shock or disgust but we don't get hurt. We aren't the ones suffering so we laugh and cheer. It's sick, isn't it?

Maybe our obsession with the suffering of others is merely another one of our coping mechanisms. Another escape from our lives of misery and drudgery. Another anesthetic for our emotional and spiritual wounds which bleed continuously. Maybe we are all defined by suffering, both our own and that of other people. Maybe we are all broken, and as twisted as it may sound, we need pain, we may even want it. Maybe we are addicted to pain.

Keeping a Lid On It

It's not easy. I began my writing career in 1998 when I was gifted my first computer,(thanks again Darren)and I became familiar, very quickly, with the cycle of submit and be rejected. Editors say things like "we appreciate your interest in the magazine but your story is not quite right for us", "we appreciate the chance to read your story, unfortunately the piece is not for us", "after careful consideration we've decided we won't be able to use your story", and "we read your work but it wasn't a good fit for us at this time." Not all rejections are flat out rejections. Although adding fuel to the fire of frustration, some editors provide encouragement by praising what they liked about the story. They say things like, "Good idea", "well paced", "well written", "I loved the character", "I enjoyed it" etc, and then apologize that they won't be publishing it.I've written 71 short stories and had 11 of them published. That's 11 acceptances out of 252 submissions.

I've also written two novels. The first, Devolution was published as an e-book in 2009. I paid for that to happen and I did not recover my costs through sales. Nevertheless, it was an achievement. I had a product to sell and some supportive friends and family bought copies. Now Devolution is available in paperback and it cost me nothing to produce. It's called "print on demand" and I set it up with CreateSpace. When the proof copy arrived on my doorstep, I was stoked. The book was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. In a couple of weeks, I'll be appearing at the local bookstore to sell and sign copies of Devolution on the back of some publicity, including a feature article in the local newspaper. Like I said, it's not easy to keep on lid on my excitement. These small steps mean everything and nothing much at the same time. You can imagine my anxiety as I think of the in store appearance.

Will complete strangers buy my book? Why should they? Because they like the cover? The blurb? Because they want to support a local author? Will the appearance be a flop, leaving me to walk way with a box of unsold books? All writers have experienced rejection. All writers have had the fear that they are writing for themselves when what they desperately want is readers. Some writers become hugely successful, rich and famous...most writers have to keep their day jobs.I have to keep my day job which is okay because I actually love my day job...but I want to write and want people to read what I write. All I can do therefore, is try, struggle to contain my enthusiasm, keep writing and keep dreaming of eventual success.

A Thing for Firemen

Former Australian Idol contestant, Paulini has released a new single called Fireman. I saw the video for it for the first time this morning on Rage while I was running on the cross-trainer. The song is about Paulini being hot and needing a fireman to cool her down. Very original. The clip features gym toned topless male dancers dancing and displaying their abs while wearing fireman pants. Paulini pouts, and touches herself and gyrates, as you do, while mouthing the very profound lyrics to the duff duff beat. I watched the whole video because, although I don't have a thing for firemen, Paulini looked good and she sounded good, and as far as dance pop songs go, it was pretty good.

I was thus inspired to write a philosophical treatise on fire; a discussion of the amorality of fire, and the various uses and misuses of it by humans and nature. I felt like waxing lyrical about the fearful and destructive power of fire, and how it both fascinates us and sometimes frightens us...but then I decided that I just wanted to mock women (and men) who have a thing for firemen.

"He's a fireman"...titter titter. "Ooh, look at his abs." "He can put his boots under my bed." "I hope he has a licence for those guns." "Wow, he's so handsome." "Come and rescue me big boy"...tee hee. Sorry, I have to run away and throw up now. Aren't you women embarrassed to talk like that? To gush and drool and giggle like school girls over some ridiculous fantasy of a hot fireman? If you've ever made one of the above statements about this allegedly sexy species known as firemen, or even if you've ever laughed along and blushed with your girls as you ogled the models in the firemen calendar, you should be ashamed of yourself. As Derryn Hinch used to say, "shame, shame, shame!"

My Nightmare Draws Closer

I'll say it up front. My worst political nightmare is Tony Abbott becoming Prime Minster of Australia. The current Prime Minister, and the man she replaced in a backstabbing party room coup,former Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, will go head to head tomorrow in a leadership ballot which will determine whether Ms Gillard continues to lead the party and thus the nation, or whether K Rudd 2012 resumes control of the good ship Terra Australis.

Since the infamous betrayal of Kevin Rudd which was supposed to save the Labour Party and restore the confidence of the people in the federal government, the Australian Labour Party has continued to disappoint everyone but themselves, and their most ardent and severely vision impaired supporters. They have made the act of shooting oneself in the foot, an artform, and in the process delivered a wealth of material for the ultra negative, twister of truth, policy vacuum, leader of the opposition, Tony Abbott. He has been lapping it up and spitting it back in the government's face.

Julia Gillard is now less popular than Kevin Rudd was when his party dumped him as a leader. If you believe the annoyingly frequent polls, K Rudd 2012 has the backing of the people as preferred Prime Minister. If the polls are all that matter, and our politicians are merely populists then we are to be pitied. If we have an incompetent government, and a potentially worse alternative government waiting in the wings, then who can we blame but ourselves.

I expect so much more than I get from our political leaders.

Man the Dishwashers Boys!

Some people would wonder why I bother. Seriously. Even I wonder why sometimes but there are occasions in life when you simply have to stand up for what you believe in. Regardless of the cost, the potential ridicule and the likelihood that you efforts will be exactly like attempting to resist the Borg: futile.

The current television ad for Finish Powerball, that's dishwashing detergent not the lottery, offends me. There I said it. I find it so disturbing that I have written to the company to complain. The ad suggests that only women use dishwashers. That crowd of enthusiastic Finish supporters at the end of the ad is comprised solely of mums. No dads, no singles, although there may be a few single mums, just mums. However, mums are not the only ones who use dishwashers. Everyone in my family uses the dishwasher and I am solely responsible for the choice of dishwasher detergent. All I'm asking for is a little credit.A little respect.

I clean the shower but I've never seen a man cleaning a shower in an ad for some too-good-to-be-true cleaning product. I'd like to see them use that stuff on a real bathroom, an old one, a dirty one, instead of a showroom version, but I digress. Am I the only man who washes the shower? No way. Am I the only bloke who cooks and cleans? Fat chance. So where are the men in the ads doing the business with the toilet brush, or scrubbing, spraying, wiping, chopping, dicing and cooking(celebrity chefs aside)?

A recent survey showed that an increasing number of women are becoming the household breadwinners. Househusbands are on the increase. Is this really happening? Or are women doing even more than they have traditionally done, that is, just about everything, and men doing even less? Whether it be childcare or housework, shopping or cooking, I don't think it is at all unusual for men to share the load at home these days.

That's not what I'm seeing in advertising though. Advertising, which targets particular demographics with particular products, reinforces cultural stereotypes as it serves its master and searches for sales. To the companies who use these discriminatory ads to promote their goods and services, I say...beware the slighted househusband. Ignore us at your peril!

To my fellow househusbands, and all those men, who may eschew that title but nonetheless pull their weight at home, and do so willingly and modestly, and even enjoy it, I say...bravo. I love you all. Man the dishwasher boys!

I believe in thongs

I'm talking about footwear, not underwear.They are variously known as flip flops, plakkies, clam diggers, jandals, chinelos or go aheads,depending on where in the world you are. I believe that thongs are simple in design, comfortable to wear, convenient, generally inexpensive, and extremely popular.

They offer some degree of protection for the sole of the foot but are otherwise not a safe form of footwear. They don't come in steel capped versions, they don't block UV rays and if you step on a nail, you will know about it. They are comfortable to wear although the cheaper brands may cause extensive damage to the area between the big toe and its next door neighbour: at least until they are worn in.They keep the foot cool by not incarcerating it within leather or canvas, but anything that is going to fall or spill on your foot will hit the foot directly. They are easy to put on and remove, although under pressure, for example when running or climbing, they can remove themselves. Thongs are also renown for going M.I.A. Widely accepted in a plethora of casual situations and gatherings, they are frowned upon at formal engagements and in the workplace.

Everybody believes in something. We all have some religion or philosophy or code of ethics by which we live. We either inherited it from our parents, subscribed to it because it was cool at some stage, discovered it for ourselves, or assumed one by default. Nobody lives without a belief system of some kind. It might be mainstream religion, a cocktail of religious beliefs or a homespun philosophy. Whatever it's called, whatever it looks like, however it operates, it's influence is unmistakable and irresistible.

You could believe in thongs if you won't to because most religious/ethical beliefs and especially practices are not too dissimilar to thongs.Religion and ethics will provide some protection for your soul but they won't provide salvation. They are comfortable because they can be adjusted to suit your circumstances or your feelings. Ever heard of moral relativism or situational ethics? They allow plenty of freedom, the rules are flexible. They work in easy, casual circumstances but when faced with tragedy and suffering, they fall apart and leave you defenseless. They cost nothing at all, they make no demands on you, they don't force changes in your life or call you to sacrifice.

If you like the comfort zone where faith is cheap and undemanding, where you won't make waves by offending people, where you'll fit in, then design your own belief system. Take the bits you like from wherever you can find them, and build a religion that suits you. Personalize it. Never mind about the truth. You believe in thongs.

In Varietate Concordia

It means Unity in Diversity, and it is the motto for Indonesia, Ghana, Papua New Guinea, India, South Africa and the European Union. Multiculturalism in Australia has, for decades now, focused on the same ideal without ever stating it so explicitly. We have sought in this country to allow people from all over the world, who come to make Australia their home, to continue their customs, culture and language while enjoying the benefits of living in a free and tolerant society.

Tomorrow is Australia Day. January 26. We commemorate the arrival of the First Fleet under the Command of Captain Arthur Phillip, and the establishment of a penal colony at Sydney Cove in 1788 from which our nation was born. It is the official view of the government and the belief of the many people, that we find our real strength as a nation when we embrace the diversity which comes from our history of migration. Not everyone who arrived on the First Fleet was a convict. There were many free settlers who chose to come. Nothing has changed. Although we are no longer a penal colony, there are many who still arrive against their will. Refugees forced from their homes by war, persecution or famine. Others choose this country because of what it offers. Millions are born here and though they may travel, they never find a better place to live. We all call Australia home wherever we originally came from.

There are those who see multiculturalism as a weakness. The old trade union slogan, 'united we stand, divided we fall' is used to support calls for greater assimilation. Critics, usually racists, argue that we have become too tolerant, and as a result we are losing our identity.

The problem with both sides of the argument is that the concept of the nation-state, or country, is a modern construction. It is an invention of man designed to serve political purposes. Yugoslavia and the USSR are just two examples of how the devolution of nation states is almost inevitable. People find their identity first as a part of their family, then as members of a particular race or ethnic group, then, finally, with the country in which they live.

It would be unnatural for anyone to be more loyal to their country than their family, or even sometimes to their ethnic group. That is why nationalism falls short of its goal of unification. Nationalism purports to bring peace through allegiance to one's country, and the common ideals to which it subscribes.

However, only Christ can bring true peace and unity as he calls for not just allegiance but also submission to Him, The Lord of all creation. It is Christ who tears down the walls that divide us, and brings us together as one family. Beware of the false god called nationalism.