Australia is a lucky country, run by second-rate people who share its luck.

- The Lucky Country by Donald Horne, 1964

I find it amusing that Australian Politicians picked up the phrase "a lucky country" and ran with it, flying it as a flag and misapplying it as a form of rallying cry ... yet anyone who has read the book can see it was used ironically. It was a comment of disdain. An indictment on Australia.
Australia never earned its democracy ... it simply went along with some British habits and has been reticent to cut the apron strings.
Australia has not created wealth using "clever" means derived from education, science, technology or other innovations.
Australia's economic prosperity is largely derived from its rich natural resources.
Our Agriculture accounts for 12% of the GDP and produces enough surplus to export feed for 60 million whilst still keeping enough food locally to feed a population twice our own size.
Our mining, oil and gas extraction directly account for ten per cent of Australia's Gross Domestic Product.
Australia seems to care and show less enterprise than almost any other prosperous industrial society - through its myopian attitude to the mining sector, the lack of support for its education, research and development sectors and a seeming acceptance of creating a future where it will be an unimaginative nation, mired in mediocrity and manacled to its past.
[Reposted from xntrek]

Things I hate and people I love ...

but it's far easier to fill your life with things than people.

People can satisfy the hole inside, but requires us to first be part of the filling of another's hole first. Things fill the hole inside like wearing sandwiches on your head fills the hunger, but things don't ask for anything ... though those that have the things ask for your blood, sweat and tears via token pieces of paper.

A far cheaper and more rewarding exchange people are, so why do we find it easier to collect things instead?

[Reposted from xntrek]

Feelings ... how do they work?

One of the weird things I noticed this last month, is that I find it easier to feel for other people than I do for myself. It's like part of me allows me to feel and cry for them - but when it comes to myself, no way buddy-o.

I don't know why. I don't even have anything more to add. I guess I just needed to externalise the thought and validate it.

I'm sure I'll keep overanalysing this in the back of my head for, well, ever.

[Reposted from xntrek]

"It's my belief and you should respect and accept that"

I was told this today. It was said with heartfelt conviction and sincerity. It was reinforced by another who stated that, indeed, I should do just that. However, they were not talking about the fact that either one of them believe in a God or a religion or some such.

No.

I was told that in regards to the fact that they believe homosexuality is “not natural” and that “to them” it is “wrong”.

Here’s an idea … No way! Get Fucked! Fuck off!

You may as well have said “my [culture and/or religion] believes in beating women and you should respect and accept that” or “my [culture and/or religion] believes in keeping slaves and you should respect and accept that” heck why not go for the trifecta and say “my [culture and/or religion] believes in obliterating any form of dissent!”

You want me to respect you? Fine, earn it … you want me to accept your spiritual or religious beliefs, no problem … but if you actually expect me to turn around and somehow allow you to be a hateful, discriminatory bigot and ignore the fact that it is something that is fundamentally morally wrong and reprehensible as well then you can expect a great big double-shotgun load of fuck no with a great big helping of “are you fucking kidding me you backwards fuck?” right in your face … and I don’t care how long we have been friends for.

Because, that’s my belief.

 

[Reposted from xntrek]

Beating my addictions ...

I look back at my peak days of using. In hindsight, it is easy to see the patterns. The self loathing. The slow but sure erosion of life. The destruction I was bringing on to myself. Each time I partook, it was an expression of self-hate. Self Harm. Suppression. Denial.

It doesn’t matter what the drug of choice is. It truly doesn’t. Some drink. Some snort. Some smoke. Some inject. Some pop. Some fuck. Some eat. Some cut. Some work.

I was (and still am) a multiple abuser. Binge Drinker. Smoker. Workaholic. Binge eater.

Each allows one to spiral. Each allows one to drown in the loathing, pity and float in the dark waters of depression as we kid ourselves that it deadens the pain or relaxes us or that it allows us to zone out.

I tried a great many things to remove these behaviours from my life.

Two things I learned:

1. You have to honestly want to do so.

It makes no matter what you do, how hard you try, the efforts you go to nor the support you have .. it will all be for naught if you are not ready in your heart of hearts, Period.

2. The only one you are accountable to, is you.

You can make oaths to your parents, loved one, gods of faraway places or the blue fairy … it means nothing. Nothing. Not because of faith or the lack of it. Not because you do not care about the oath. Not because you do not resect the one you made the oath to. It’s because the issue is about you and your self-loathing. Your lack of self-love. Your failure to accept yourself. How can you promise to uphold something to someone that you are not willing to hold yourself to? So that you have another reason to hate yourself when you fail yet again?

You are responsible for the way you see the reflection from the mirror.

Don’t kid yourself. There is more than one view flung back.

The view of you as a person. As a lover. As a friend. As a parent. As an offspring. As someone who can be loved. As someone who can be trusted … all of these aspects are in there. Some you can see and be proud of. Some of them you will avoid looking at or accepting. Some you will turn away from.

I know I have met my demons and managed to control some of my many abuses. Drinking. Smoking. The breakdown even helped (to some degree) to curb the working.

But now … I need to face the binge eater.

I started seeing a physiofitness therapist and a dietician ... but it's stiull a struggle. It is not as simple as "don't eat cookies" or "exercise more" ... Each addiction has its own set of demons. Each has different roots. Different rules. Each battle is different. But the aim is still the same – to be able to stand up to that part of myself.

In many ways, fighting one addiction, just makes it harder to fight the next one. You know the pain you will be facing and the hardships it will bring, and you are always far more comfortable with the devils on your back than the promised angels beyond the veil.

[Reposted from xntrek]