Last last night, before I went to bed I was faced with a dilema of such great propoertions that I want to call it some more impressive than a plain old dilema. I want to call it a Gordian Knot or a Sword of Damocles or a Focault's Pendulum. None of them work (and the last one is a book I believe) but dilema just doesn't suffice.
I was on my way to bed, as I may have mentioned, having seen little Johnny Howard offer a highly commendable concession speech after he had his little bottom kicked by that Kevin Rudd.
My partner asked me whether I'd have chosen the Liberals to be kicked out of Australian politics over England qualifying for Euro 2008. The immediate pain it caused me led to believe that if I did have such powers I may have misused them.
I tried to justify my hesitation by reasoning that the difference between the Liberals and Labour really aren't all that pronounced nowadays so were I to prefer subjecting myself to the usual summertime quarter final humiliation then things wouldn't really be all that different. That didn't really stack up as I don't think the world is going to change all that much whether England qualify or not.
However, I'm glad I'm bereft of such powers as I fear that they may be in the wrong hands...it wouldn't be public knoweldge after all would it?
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Child Abuse and Fear
I see to recall a recent post about child abuse but here's another letter which struck a bit of a chord with me and my obsession with the constant fear-mongers we have in government.
October 12, 2007
I HAVE just received my NetAlert Protecting Australian Families Online package in the mail. The Australian Government has spent $189 million to date, and the document is full of fear.
According to the document, 40 per cent of children who chat online chat to people they do not know, and 39 per cent of children have photos of themselves online. Oh dear. Where are the statistics to say that the World Wide Web is harming our children or putting them at real danger?
How much is the Australian Government spending on child sexual abuse in this country? The most recent national figures from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare indicate that 198,355 reports of suspected cases of child abuse and neglect made were made to authorities nationwide in 2002-03. This figure has risen significantly in recent years; there had been 91,734 reports in 1995-96.
It is estimated that 85 per cent of sexual abuse occurs in the home.
Even assuming all abuse out of the home is online (a ridiculous proposition), we are targeting $189 million at 15 per cent of the abuse.
Why doesn't the Government address the 85 per cent? I guess that telling families they best look in their own backyard rather than the amorphous "internet" isn't as politically compelling.
One in three girls and one in six boys will be the victim of sexual assault before the age of 18 but there is virtually no direct ongoing government funding to help victims.
There is also no accurate information about the prevalence of child abuse in Australia. The most accurate statistics available are the numbers of reports of suspected child abuse made to statutory child protection departments. While these figures give some indication of the incidence of child abuse and neglect, it is believed that fewer cases of abuse are reported than are occurring.
The Government may be better placed spending $189 million in the area of child sexual abuse, which is real, rather than on the fear campaign it is running with the Protecting Australian Families Online program.
Pheona Arndell
Bronte
Perhaps it also resonates becuase I finished reading The Unknown Terrorist last night and while I was generally rather dissapointed with the book from a literary point of view (get me!) I enjoyed the ending which seemed to focus on the selling of fear. It was still pretty crude and I wouldn't recommend the book but it chimed.
October 12, 2007
I HAVE just received my NetAlert Protecting Australian Families Online package in the mail. The Australian Government has spent $189 million to date, and the document is full of fear.
According to the document, 40 per cent of children who chat online chat to people they do not know, and 39 per cent of children have photos of themselves online. Oh dear. Where are the statistics to say that the World Wide Web is harming our children or putting them at real danger?
How much is the Australian Government spending on child sexual abuse in this country? The most recent national figures from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare indicate that 198,355 reports of suspected cases of child abuse and neglect made were made to authorities nationwide in 2002-03. This figure has risen significantly in recent years; there had been 91,734 reports in 1995-96.
It is estimated that 85 per cent of sexual abuse occurs in the home.
Even assuming all abuse out of the home is online (a ridiculous proposition), we are targeting $189 million at 15 per cent of the abuse.
Why doesn't the Government address the 85 per cent? I guess that telling families they best look in their own backyard rather than the amorphous "internet" isn't as politically compelling.
One in three girls and one in six boys will be the victim of sexual assault before the age of 18 but there is virtually no direct ongoing government funding to help victims.
There is also no accurate information about the prevalence of child abuse in Australia. The most accurate statistics available are the numbers of reports of suspected child abuse made to statutory child protection departments. While these figures give some indication of the incidence of child abuse and neglect, it is believed that fewer cases of abuse are reported than are occurring.
The Government may be better placed spending $189 million in the area of child sexual abuse, which is real, rather than on the fear campaign it is running with the Protecting Australian Families Online program.
Pheona Arndell
Bronte
Perhaps it also resonates becuase I finished reading The Unknown Terrorist last night and while I was generally rather dissapointed with the book from a literary point of view (get me!) I enjoyed the ending which seemed to focus on the selling of fear. It was still pretty crude and I wouldn't recommend the book but it chimed.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Post Script
Couldn't find any eggs, didn't do any surgery. Will get drunk and swim in the pool together.
How was it for you?
This morning I had to ejaculate into another jar which was pretty good. I had a private room, choice of a bed or a be-sheeted chair, lights down low and a selection of gentleman's magazines to peruse.
Bronzed and shiny ladies parting their rubbery looking labia don't really do it for me but I had a quick look none the less. Gift horse. Mouth. And I nearly came a cropper when I came face to face with an article about the last Labour loser, Mark Latham. Please feel free to make youw own comic interjection at this point, I'm trying to steer clear of foul and abusive language on this blog but the Latham/labia link is leaving me sorely tempted.
Anyway, yes it was good for me, thanks for asking. Since then my partner in this adventure has had several additional holes made in her lower body and is recovering from a general anaesthetic. I would like to provide more detail about the operation to remove her eggs, introduce them to my recently spun sperm and reimsert them into her fallopian tubes but I regret that I may get it all wrong and reveal myself to be somewhet lacking in the knowledge required of one half of an infertile couple.
To be classified as infertile you need to have not conceieved after one year of unprotected sex. I don't know why that struck me as interesting but it did. So I include it for want of anything more interesting in its stead.
While she's been flat on her back enjoying a jolly good rest I've been to check us in to our new hotel. Last night we stayed in Formulae 1 which is classified as a budget hotel and while clean and centrally located and replete with drunken backpackers trying to get into one another's rooms at 4.00 in the morning it lacks a rooftop swimming pool and other amenities recommended for a person recovering from surgery (not to mention a person recovering from masturbating and then dragging bags across a busy and hot city). Therefore our bags are now in the Hotel Grand Chancellor which is not great but is better. I can enjoy swimming in the pool while my post operative partner can look at it and marvel at how the smell of curry can reach an area located 17 floors above the city. No swimming or alcohol for 24 hours after surgery.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Good news
It's about time some sunshine shone.
It's been a dreadful couple of days what with spending the weekend in Melbourne and returning to find no kids in school. It's almost intolerable to walk those corridors and hear silence where there should be swearing, smell cleaning products rather than toe-jam and see other staff members looking happy and relaxed. Just not on.
Sun. Can't remember where I read it exactly but I was researching an activity for men which would mark mental health week. This year both Rural Health Week and Mental Health Weeek are trying to focus on that much neglected group; men, Putting The Men Back Into Mental is this year's slogan I believe.
Apparently 30,000 Finnish men were studied over 8 years and they found a link between cholesterol and depression. And the best bit is that it's the other way round. High cholesterol, low depression. I've been given six months by my GP to lower my own cholesterol by dieting and exercise or he'll prescribe drugs. But what if I get depressed?
I told my loving partner this last night and she pointed out that I'm already depressed which took the wind out of my sails somewhat. Imagine how terrible I'd feel if I had low cholesterol I'd probably have said if I wasn't trying to calculate whether I could clean up all her blood before Eastenders.
111 of those Finns topped themselves. That's quite a lot isn't it? Even for Finland. Mind you, we had a couple from Iceland and a woman from the Ukraine who moved here recently and they all left because they couldn't stand the weather. They didn't top themselves though which is something I suppose. What's with this new word, suicidalisation? Scratch that, I've just spell checked it and it's suicidal ideation. Still, what was wrong with suicidal tendancies?
It's been a dreadful couple of days what with spending the weekend in Melbourne and returning to find no kids in school. It's almost intolerable to walk those corridors and hear silence where there should be swearing, smell cleaning products rather than toe-jam and see other staff members looking happy and relaxed. Just not on.
Sun. Can't remember where I read it exactly but I was researching an activity for men which would mark mental health week. This year both Rural Health Week and Mental Health Weeek are trying to focus on that much neglected group; men, Putting The Men Back Into Mental is this year's slogan I believe.
Apparently 30,000 Finnish men were studied over 8 years and they found a link between cholesterol and depression. And the best bit is that it's the other way round. High cholesterol, low depression. I've been given six months by my GP to lower my own cholesterol by dieting and exercise or he'll prescribe drugs. But what if I get depressed?
I told my loving partner this last night and she pointed out that I'm already depressed which took the wind out of my sails somewhat. Imagine how terrible I'd feel if I had low cholesterol I'd probably have said if I wasn't trying to calculate whether I could clean up all her blood before Eastenders.
111 of those Finns topped themselves. That's quite a lot isn't it? Even for Finland. Mind you, we had a couple from Iceland and a woman from the Ukraine who moved here recently and they all left because they couldn't stand the weather. They didn't top themselves though which is something I suppose. What's with this new word, suicidalisation? Scratch that, I've just spell checked it and it's suicidal ideation. Still, what was wrong with suicidal tendancies?
Friday, August 24, 2007
My feet are hot
Very, very tired.
I'm going to Canberra on Monday for the week so I need to get everything done or postponed before I go.
Feel rather adrift too, the lloing changes don't seem to diminish in importance no matter how much I try to ignore them.
I should also note that Peta's Granfather died this morning so there's nothing wrong with my prioritising or perspective then.
I'm going to Canberra on Monday for the week so I need to get everything done or postponed before I go.
Feel rather adrift too, the lloing changes don't seem to diminish in importance no matter how much I try to ignore them.
I should also note that Peta's Granfather died this morning so there's nothing wrong with my prioritising or perspective then.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Insomnia
I remember reading a self help article about sleeplessness and recall that one shouldn't look at the time. Or maybe that's my tip. Yup, don't look at the time...stresses you out.
A fact of which I'm more certain is that you shouldn't lie in bed tossing and turning and stressing. You should get up and do something.
So here I am.
Doing something.
I'm pretty sure the article didn't say drink all the whisky in the house (admittedly not much) before starting on the rum but it probably didn't say not to look at your watch either so I'm doing all three under my own cognisance.
Hopefully writing about my stress will make it go away.
I'm leaving this island at the end of this year and today made the first steps towards planning whatever it is I'm going to do when I'm back in the UK. That sounds on paper (?) like a good reason for diminishing my stress levels but I feel that maybe it's causing me to bring the stressful elements of the plan into starker view, Namely that I don't have a clue what I'm going to do and can't help but feel that I'm walking into a disaster of my own making.
I could stay here of course but my partner has already handed in her notice and I've pretty much done the same thing so this course of action is out of the question. A more important factor is that we don't do anything here except work and watch TV and while I enjoy the community in which I live and work and watch TV I can't help but feel that there may be more to life and we're missing out on it.
I miss my friends and the social life that accompanies them. I need to get a career going and as a career's adviser (or Pathway Planner as I'm officially known) I'm pretty sure that watching TV and working is not going to get me where I want to be.
Of course there are other factors, most prominently our efforts to conceive a child and the ticking time bomb that this represents at the age of 40, secondly, my partners ability to find work and a lifestyle that she enjoys and lastly our ability to cope when cut adrift form the community which now envelopes us.
I was thinking of phoning somebody to discuss this with but as you may be able to glean from my hopefully cathartic writing I was unable to think of anyone to whom I could spill my guts at this ungodly hour of the morning in Australia or anyone who would be available in the UK at whatever hour my dual-time but dilligently ignored watch says it is.
I must say that I'm not really feeling expunged by this writing and while my head is now buzzing from the cocktail of drugs I've now managed to consume while I've been writing this I can still feel the pressure on my chest and am not truly sure whether the buzzing head contains anything more than the same thoughts which were previously troubling me only in a rather more jumbled and chaotic fashion.
But I've paused now. And exhaled. And wonder whether I shouldn't try for bed again for the third time today.
Maybe I do feel better.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
GTP Time again
It's that time of year again.
Time to sit in front of a overbright screen and plead my case to countless schools. Actually it's hardly countless as thus far I've only managed to apply to two schools but at least I've made a start a little earlier this time. The scheme doesn't start for more than a year but they won't catch me out with their pesky deadlines this time.
I started yesterday and felt sick pretty much as soon as the familar websites, the list of 286 schools and the overly elaborate application forms came into view. Still, I've calmed down now and am pretty optimistic which is not traditionally my default position. Mind you, I seem to recall being pretty optimistic for several of my previous interviews and attempts and look what came of them.?
Arse-ache that's what.
Time to sit in front of a overbright screen and plead my case to countless schools. Actually it's hardly countless as thus far I've only managed to apply to two schools but at least I've made a start a little earlier this time. The scheme doesn't start for more than a year but they won't catch me out with their pesky deadlines this time.
I started yesterday and felt sick pretty much as soon as the familar websites, the list of 286 schools and the overly elaborate application forms came into view. Still, I've calmed down now and am pretty optimistic which is not traditionally my default position. Mind you, I seem to recall being pretty optimistic for several of my previous interviews and attempts and look what came of them.?
Arse-ache that's what.
The Wind That Shakes The Barley
What a fantastic film.
I've been lamenting the lack of good films recently and decided that I either wanted to see a film featuring a story told differently or a story told well. I can't remember all the dross that made me feel let down but to give you a taster, Blood Diamond and The Last King Of Scotland were two that spring to mind.
Anyway, the Barley film was most certainly a story told well. I managed to overcome my guilt for being English and loved both the characters and the manner in which the narrative made their actions plausible and sympathetic.
The parallels with the Iraqi insurgents were too many to mention, I hope we don't have to wait so long for a similarly sympathetic portrait of their plight.
I've been lamenting the lack of good films recently and decided that I either wanted to see a film featuring a story told differently or a story told well. I can't remember all the dross that made me feel let down but to give you a taster, Blood Diamond and The Last King Of Scotland were two that spring to mind.
Anyway, the Barley film was most certainly a story told well. I managed to overcome my guilt for being English and loved both the characters and the manner in which the narrative made their actions plausible and sympathetic.
The parallels with the Iraqi insurgents were too many to mention, I hope we don't have to wait so long for a similarly sympathetic portrait of their plight.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
GTP again
Had quite a pleasant day today. Went down to Shannons for breakfast, always a pleasure. Then walked down to the Cultural Centre to see an exhibition by Richard Skinner who's been here for a coupld of months. He makes art out of rubbish. Some if it isn't really art I suppose but it's made out of rubbish regardless.
Walked back and then made the rash decision to come to te school to start my annual search for a place on a GTP course.
I felt quite sick actually and sought refuge in The Guardian and other suitably distracting websites.
I really need to get on with this in order to have some idea about where we'll be living this time next year (actually where we'll be living in 16 weeks when we leave her is a question I wouldn't mind having an answer to).
I think I'll give up for today, try to bring my heart rate down by watching crap TV for six hours and then start afresh tomorrow.
Walked back and then made the rash decision to come to te school to start my annual search for a place on a GTP course.
I felt quite sick actually and sought refuge in The Guardian and other suitably distracting websites.
I really need to get on with this in order to have some idea about where we'll be living this time next year (actually where we'll be living in 16 weeks when we leave her is a question I wouldn't mind having an answer to).
I think I'll give up for today, try to bring my heart rate down by watching crap TV for six hours and then start afresh tomorrow.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Friday Night
Three in one day?
Having a laugh.
Just waiting to see if FRiday night os going to kick off with a trip to the butchers and the coffee shop as has tended to be the patter over the last couple of weeks. The butchers doesn't open over the weekend so it's a fabulous opportunity to stock up on meat for the coming week. Which is how I like to spend my Friday evenings.
The coffee is just a bonus but the caffeine rush on top of the retail therapy...
Lordy. lordy, the time has arrived. Beef and coffee. My lift is outside. Let the weekend begin. God give me strength!
Having a laugh.
Just waiting to see if FRiday night os going to kick off with a trip to the butchers and the coffee shop as has tended to be the patter over the last couple of weeks. The butchers doesn't open over the weekend so it's a fabulous opportunity to stock up on meat for the coming week. Which is how I like to spend my Friday evenings.
The coffee is just a bonus but the caffeine rush on top of the retail therapy...
Lordy. lordy, the time has arrived. Beef and coffee. My lift is outside. Let the weekend begin. God give me strength!
Beautiful Lies
That was it.
Having read The Road last week I dived straight into Beautiful Lies by Lisa Unger.
For some reason I'd written the name in my diary which is something I've started doing as I can only visit shops a couple of times a year and therefore tend to forget all the good reviews.
However, this one is a bit of a mystery as I can't believe it had any good reviews. Clearly it had at least one as someone from Australian Women's Weekly said the usual, "If you only read one thriller this year....etc". Someone else said that she rivalled Harlan Coben. Not that I rate Harlan much but he knows how to spin a yarn and generate excitement, create plausible, likeable characters and sitautions. Which Lisa, bless her, hasn't got the faintest idea about.
I'm sorry of you're reading this Lees, no offence but it was dreadful. You repeated yourself time and again, the, "action", sequences were so anticlimactic that I don't know why you bothered and if I had a penny for evertyime Ridley referred toher lovers body as being like granite...
Having read The Road last week I dived straight into Beautiful Lies by Lisa Unger.
For some reason I'd written the name in my diary which is something I've started doing as I can only visit shops a couple of times a year and therefore tend to forget all the good reviews.
However, this one is a bit of a mystery as I can't believe it had any good reviews. Clearly it had at least one as someone from Australian Women's Weekly said the usual, "If you only read one thriller this year....etc". Someone else said that she rivalled Harlan Coben. Not that I rate Harlan much but he knows how to spin a yarn and generate excitement, create plausible, likeable characters and sitautions. Which Lisa, bless her, hasn't got the faintest idea about.
I'm sorry of you're reading this Lees, no offence but it was dreadful. You repeated yourself time and again, the, "action", sequences were so anticlimactic that I don't know why you bothered and if I had a penny for evertyime Ridley referred toher lovers body as being like granite...
Torpid
Don't pay too much heed to the title of this I'm not even sure what it means. Just wanted something snappy which would get the kids flocking and boost my sadly flagging stats. I don't think I actually get stats anymore as my blog looks completely different to last time.
Where is the clock and the book list and the favourite films stuff?
Speaking of books. I read a beauty last week by Cormac McCarthy, The Road. I think it's nominated for the Pulitzer or something so I can't really claim to have discovered it but I've not read a book for a long time that so quickly transported me to another, infinitley bleaker place. (And without sounding too glib, if you live where I live that's saying something).
I've tried to describe it to friends but it's hard to do so without making it sound like a dull exercise in writing, which it isn't. So I'll not say too much, sit back and watch it climb to the top of the bestsellers list on my word alone.
You're quite right. I've not written for a long time but I was complimented on my writing last Sunday (by someone who can read) and felt such a surge of pride that I feel compelled to revisit my Cheesy and Beefy pals. I work with young kids in school for the first couple of hourse of every day so you'd think I'd understand the importance of praise but it never ceases to amaze me how wonderful it feels to have someone you respect say something nice about you.
There's so much to tell I hardly know where to start.
So I'll finish.
Where is the clock and the book list and the favourite films stuff?
Speaking of books. I read a beauty last week by Cormac McCarthy, The Road. I think it's nominated for the Pulitzer or something so I can't really claim to have discovered it but I've not read a book for a long time that so quickly transported me to another, infinitley bleaker place. (And without sounding too glib, if you live where I live that's saying something).
I've tried to describe it to friends but it's hard to do so without making it sound like a dull exercise in writing, which it isn't. So I'll not say too much, sit back and watch it climb to the top of the bestsellers list on my word alone.
You're quite right. I've not written for a long time but I was complimented on my writing last Sunday (by someone who can read) and felt such a surge of pride that I feel compelled to revisit my Cheesy and Beefy pals. I work with young kids in school for the first couple of hourse of every day so you'd think I'd understand the importance of praise but it never ceases to amaze me how wonderful it feels to have someone you respect say something nice about you.
There's so much to tell I hardly know where to start.
So I'll finish.
Monday, February 26, 2007
One week after
So my last post was one week before my 40th and this post is one week after.
Not a great deal has changed but I've still given up smoking and I'm still working in the cheese industry.
How's that for a riveting post.
Not a great deal has changed but I've still given up smoking and I'm still working in the cheese industry.
How's that for a riveting post.
Monday, February 12, 2007
A Week Ago And A Week Hence
This time last week I gave up smoking.
I was drinking a cup of coffee after breakfast on the terrace restraurant of the Majestic Hotel in Saigon and decided that this was a beter location than the smoking room at Singapore airport which was my second choice.
And I've not had a fag since and it's not difficult and therefore not really very noteworthy but I mention it as a week ago I was smoking in Saigon and in a weeks time I will be 40.
So I find myself between the old me and the new me (although I'm not sure that me is defined by either smoking or may age).
Scratch that last bit about the redundant and modern me and just accept that I felt some sense of symmetry.
The new/old me is still working at the cheese factory and still failing to find other work but I'm not too depressed about that, not depressed at all actually so I'll probably leave it at that and go home, make a curry and try to make some firebricks out of recycled paper.
I was drinking a cup of coffee after breakfast on the terrace restraurant of the Majestic Hotel in Saigon and decided that this was a beter location than the smoking room at Singapore airport which was my second choice.
And I've not had a fag since and it's not difficult and therefore not really very noteworthy but I mention it as a week ago I was smoking in Saigon and in a weeks time I will be 40.
So I find myself between the old me and the new me (although I'm not sure that me is defined by either smoking or may age).
Scratch that last bit about the redundant and modern me and just accept that I felt some sense of symmetry.
The new/old me is still working at the cheese factory and still failing to find other work but I'm not too depressed about that, not depressed at all actually so I'll probably leave it at that and go home, make a curry and try to make some firebricks out of recycled paper.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)