Sorry kids

Sorry kids. Santa just left my place and he's not in great shape. He might finish his work down under, but I doubt he'll go the distance. Too many Aussie Dads left beer out for him tonight. I gave him some Berocca, strapped him into his sleigh and slapped Rudolph on the arse to send him on his way.

Lists

It's the time of year for lists.

Finish gift shopping - tick
Finish grocery shopping - tick
Mow lawns - tick
Take garbage to the tip - tick
Assemble bike - tick
Weed garden
Sweep deck
Gerni paths
Buy veal and scotch fillet
Finish wrapping presents
Make sauerkraut
Prepare chilli tomato sauce
Prepare schnitzel
Brush pool table
Clean trampoline
Make cakes
Vacuum everything
Clean everything
Fix broken things
Get pissed!
EAT TOO MUCH!!
Take broken presents back to the shop on boxing day
Spend money from people who couldn't think of something to buy
Take back clothes to shop from people who don't know my size

etc

you get the drift

I still have a lot to do. I need to develop OCD. Is there a pill I can take? Or is there an OCD service I can call?

"OCD Rentals, can I help you?"
"Hello, yes, I'd like an OCD for the weekend please."
"How much are you willing to spend sir?"
"Well, I can provide lodging and meals."
"That is possible, but within that price range I can only offer Helga, a Swedish backpacker."
"That will be fine. Can you send her round right away? I have a long list you see."
"Yes sir. All we ask is that there are fresh sheets and a six-pack of beer waiting on arrival."
"Consider it done! Thanks!"

Now that would be a great Christmas.

Excuse my two posts

Please excuse my past two posts. They are cryptic, confusing and weird. To, I imagine, anyone but me. Unless you want to guess what they're about. You might guess right I suppose. Either way, it's just a little victory dance. Back to normal programming now. Ciou!

YES

Again, I got what I wanted.
I am the alpha, and the omega. You are useless.
Victory against the odds.
Brain over brawn.
Pen over sword.
Good over evil.
Truth, justice and the m.b.r.a.i.n way.
Figjam.
I do not arbitrate, I conciliate.
Lured into my rabbit warren, your fat belly is caught.
Resistance was futile.
The power is not to the people.
You fought the law and the law won.
Don't push me 'cause you're close to the edge. I didn't lose my head! U-huh-huh-huh-huh!
Watch out for the hit-man!
You my bitch.
Meet my friend, pain!

I am the champion, my friend. I kept on fighting to the end! No time for losers, 'cause I am the champion. Of the world!

Almost

So close I can taste it.
On the cusp.
Nearly there.
You know you want it too.
Yes, Marcellus Wallace does look like a bitch.
Giddyup.

Traditions

No, this is not a boring post about Christmas traditions. Been there, done that. This is a different, weird kind of tradition. I realised this week that I seem to be starting a little kind of tradition with the kids. Often now when they ask me to guess what they got from the shop, or what they want for a gift, or what they want for lunch, or what they had a dream about, or anything.... my answer is "a bunch of bananas?" And I always seem to elicit a laugh. Even from myself. Then, when they ask me for something, or question me about something, or anything similar.... my answer is "what did the frog say?" Again, a chuckle from said child. How did this begin? I think I was joking around about how much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood and somehow I worked in the frog and the bananas bit. We are a strange family. Unique, just like everyone else. Anyway, beware fellow bloggers! If I'm reading your blog and you are "asking the internets" or posting about "guess what my secret is" don't be surprised if I respond with an answer involving a) frogs, b) bananas or c) both of the above. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Shopping blues

Today, I went Christmas shopping. Most things had already been taken care of, I just had a few odds and ends to pick up. Normally, I quite enjoy going shopping at Christmas. I don't mind the crowds at all. I like to browse through shop after shop, eventually I'll spy the one item that I think "yes, so-and-so would love that!"

And so it goes. Well, that's how it normally goes. Not today.

Is it just me or are all the stores the same, selling all the same junk for the same over-price? There is no variety, no uniqueness, no quality. In one afternoon, the joy of Christmas was pegged back a couple of notches. I was reminded of it's consumer focus, one-up-manship, slap on some tinsel and call me Santa fakeness.

Can I ban department stores at Christmas please? Can I pass a law so that you have to think about why you give gifts to be allowed to participate? Should there be a Christmas citizenshipesque test that you have to pass before you can get your tickets? Please, everyone prick your finger and sign your name in blood, that you shall only give one gift per person.

Every store I went into was the same. Same products, same prices, same storefronts, same displays, same music playing, blah blah blech! I was so disillusioned.

But I'm not cranky. I know that the kids will love what they unwrap from Santa. I know that we'll all stuff ourselves and have an afternoon nap. I know that I'll laugh at the Panel Christmas Wrap. It will be all good, in the end.

Wouldn't it be great if it snowed too?

In my letter to Santa, I asked him to bring me peace.

Inner peace.

Please understand me

I am of 1 percent. This is why you may not understand me. Let me explain the unexplainable.

You may find me as being confident, but this is in knowledge not in action. I am my own worse critic and whatever accomplishment I achieve, there is always something that can be improved upon next time. Making the same mistake twice is abhorrent. That said, my confidence in knowledge may appear to also come across as arrogance, since I make decisions very quickly and easily. You may convince me to change my mind, but the logic had better be perfect. If you try to influence me with authority, give up now. I will always, always be thinking about the next possibility, even if what's happening today is not resolved. But this is not about detail, it is about systems, the new theory, and the consequences. And no new possibility is too far fetched.

You may find that while I am close to you, I am still very very far away. Everyone who knows me will find, at some time, that they don't really know me. I am the most difficult person to buy for. I am very particular in my tastes - of style, entertainment, women, food. And yet these tastes do not have a theme, they would appear random to you. But to me, they all have a certain quality that cannot be quantified, except in my minds eye.

You may find me cold or even hard to read. My emotions are externally kept in check, but I am hypersensitive to rejection. You may think that I don't care about what you are saying, but this is not intentional. Call me a cheat, a liar, or a fake and I might not care. Call me foolish, stupid or incompetent and I'll put you in your place, back in the rat hole you crawled out of. Only I can assess my own capabilities and they are private. I value competence above all else. I will find you attractive if you are my intellectual equal.

You may find that I observe life from the sidelines. A voyeur perhaps. But the idea of getting involved is great, it will give me the opportunity to learn something new. But I'll only do it once.
I need autonomy and privacy, and I am fiercely independent. I need you to be as well, I won't be your crutch for long. I am firm and consistent. Don't ask me to repeat myself.

You may find that I lose track of time. I forget appointments, birthdays, what day it is, and what you just said to me. But I remember what you said, word for word, in a conversation we had three years ago.

This is only a portrait. Hang it on the wall, but you'll still now know me. Only I will ever know me. I don't have the words to explain. Just accept me. Please.

Choice

Choices, Decisions, Outcomes.
This is what we all must understand.
There are choices that face us.
We make a decision on which way to go.
The outcome is what we then must live with.

You are stoned.
Wrong decision.
You are warned of possible outcomes.

When faced with the next choice.
You decide incorrectly again, and are found out.
The warning is sterner. Outcomes closer.

Tempting choices.
Another poor decision.
Final warning.

Another choice.
Final decision.
Outcome assured.

Your back is a welcome sight.
You disappear in the smoke.
No-one cares.
And no-one will remember you.

Your choice, your decision, becomes my choice, my decision, becomes your outcome.
I sleep well knowing that you are not.

I can't paint, but let me decide

I watched a re-run of Star Portraits tonight - it was the first one with Michael Parkinson. I remember a little bit of it from last time, but not enough to think that The New Adventures of Old Christine would be better viewing.

One of the artists said something that really struck a chord with me. I've mentioned it before, but this summed it up very nicely. She said (I'm paraphrasing here) that painting is similar to cricket. The ball comes at the batsman very fast, and it is only reflexes that enables them to hit it. They must rely on body language to pick up cues on how and when the ball will be bowled. And this is like her when she is painting. She just starts, and the painting is a process, and it just comes to her somehow. Both are examples of how you can teach technique, but this does not make you a batsman, or an artist.

So true. So why does this strike a chord with me? There are things that I do, know, and mostly decide, that cannot be explained by rules. I seem to have a knack of summing up complex environments in a relatively short time and making correct judgements about them. I know how decisions should be made. Heck, I've even taught decision making as a process skill. But there are intricacies that cannot be easily constructed within a linear decision making framework. There are factors in systemic frameworks where multiple objectives interact with multiple alternatives and link with multiple outcomes. Stop rambling M, you lost them at Parkinson.

I thought I was wrong once but I was mistaken.

Wrong

A good friend of Mrs M passed away last night.
Since when is 29 old enough to have a heart attack?
"Who will take me on my first day of school?" her youngest daughter asks her father.
She shouldn't have to ask.
It's all just plain wrong.

The little things

Sometimes, it's something really small that makes a big difference. Your faith in humanity is strengthened. You start to believe that the little guy can come out on top after all.

I bought my mother a birthday card and a gift voucher from a book store. Angus & Robertson. Not expecting a positive response, I asked the girl serving me, "you don't happen to sell postage stamps do you?"

I wanted to send the card right away, but the post office was closed and I couldn't get there the next day.

"No, but I think we have some here. I could give you one."

"I could kiss you."
I didn't actually say that. I actually said.....

"Really? That'd be great! Thanks!"

"You're welcome"

"You're a lifesaver!"
I did actually say that.

"No problem"

"I've always have had a thing for girls who work in bookstores. How about we meet up for a drink later?"
I definitely didn't say that. I actually said....

"Merry Christmas"

So, I left the store, quite chuffed. I'll go back there, to that Angus & Robertson store.

By the way, Mrs Mbrain is a teacher and trained librarian.

(I think that's all I have to say about that)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

I'm getting in the mood now. The tree is up, the lights are twinkling, the carols are playing. Good old Bing and Frank. Or Harry Connick Jr. Office Christmas parties. After work drinks. Too many people shopping. Nowhere to park. Too much to eat. Give the house a spring clean. Scrub the deck and weed the garden. Get the spare bed ready for visitors. Stock up on their favourite wine and breakfast cereal. I must finish writing all those Christmas cards. Drive around the neighbourhood looking at lights. What the heck am I going to buy my mother this year? You can't get good wrapping paper any more. Real tuppence and threepence in the pudding. Smile at a stranger in the street. They smile back. Santa in the department store. I wear a Santa hat to work. Hand out candy canes. Real Scottish shortbread. Everyone's happy.

who am i Tony?, who the fuck are you?

i'm hiding more now
so it seems
or is it a return
to who i know is me?

shutting out the world
briefly each day
perhaps the opposite is true
i'd just forgotten

free will begets consequence
unannounced, uncalled for
slow, dire, wearing
and a bad dream at midnight
alone

'till the morning sun streams
the morning shower refreshes
the morning brew sharpens
your senses
and i hear kookaburras mocking me

they were my dreams
my self, being, alive
i aspired, mine inspired
a stage, my oyster
mine all the same

b u
b i
2 thyne own self 2 b tru

i've been to paradise
and i'm going back to me

Sunday Lunch Special Leftovers

But wait...... there's more!

White Chocolate Tart with Raspberries and Double-Cream

Saturday Night Special

No pizza this week.

Christmas has come early.

Leftovers anyone?

In Love Again (aka Zens are better than iPods)

And this MEME (from here) proves it, thanks!

MEME Rules:
1. Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT
After you’ve answered all of the questions, tag 5 other people and then let them know they’ve been tagged to do the meme themselves!

1. If someone says ‘Is this OK?’ you say
"The Letter" - Heather Headley

2. What would best describe your personality?
"Juanita + Kiteless" (Fuji live) - Underworld
(I looooove this set!)

3. What do you like in a girl?
"A thing happens" - Gabriel Yared & Underworld

4. How do you feel today?
"Ancient Phat Farm Coat [Flatz Edit]" (JAL to Tokyo EP) - Underworld

5. What is your life’s purpose?
"The Perfect Girl" - The Cure

6. What is your motto?
"Good Morning" - India Arie

7. What do your friends think of you?
"Eclipse" - Underworld

8. What do you think of your parents?
"Anthem for the year 2000" - Silverchair

9. What do you think about very often?
"Another Day" - Angus and Julia Stone.
(Soooo true!)

10. What is 2+2=
"Let it die" - Foo Fighters

11. What do you think of your best friend?
"Friend of Mine" - Lily Tomlin
(Ha! Take that iPod losers!)

12. What do you think of the person you like?
"Why can't I be you?" - The Cure
(Kapow! Another winner from the Zen!)

13. What is you life story?
"Annie-Dog" - Smashing Pumpkins

14. What do you want to be when you grow up?
"My Fix" - Lina

15. What do you think when you see the person you like?
"Bones" - The Killers (LOL!)

16. What do your parents think of you?
"Moaner" - Underworld
(Do I really complain that much? C'mon!)

17.What will you dance to at your wedding?
"My aphrodisiac is you" - Katie Melua
(Oh yes!)

18. What will they play at your funeral?
"Prelude-Feat. Fontella" - The Cinematic Orchesta
(Really? Prelude at a funeral? Mixed up!)

19. What is your hobby/interest?
"Let down" - Radiohead

20. What is your biggest secret?
"Greatest Gift" - Tina Arena
(embarrassment!)

21. What do you think of your friends?
"Born Slippy" - Underworld

22. What should you post this as?
"In love again" - Rogue Traders



Six Underworld tracks! Sheesh!

I've been raspberried

Decadent = 1kg of Raspberries.

thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou thankyou

Choice

This is one of those posts where I have this uuumpf gut type feeling / understanding about something, an explanation about something I have opinion of but have no idea how to explain it. I'll have a go, and think as I type, but make no guarantees about my ability to write succinctly, nor that you will be able to understand. Now that we've got that out of the way and my excuse for being ill-prepared is well established, the real post will now begin.

What is choice?
Why do we want it?
How much choice can we handle?
Do we know what is a good choice?
Can we be trusted with choice?

I made a statement about the reason I was voting Green on Saturday. It had to do with this topic. Admittedly, it came on the back of watching Sicko and thus I may be somewhat swayed by the message therein. Nevertheless, the thought of Australia doing more and more things like the good 'ol US of A is depressing me.

What is the purpose of government? Well that can be debated until the cows come home.
The world is very much more now a market economy, world capitalism.
In my mind, the USA sits at the most right wing end of the capitalism spectrum.
The essence of capitalism is that a market economy drives GDP forward and standards of living rise. So the purpose of government is to give us a certain standard of living?

Who cares about standard of living? It doesn't make you happy. Really.
Whose standard of living are we talking about? You and me does not equal us.

I don't dislike the idea. It's just gone too far. How so?

Too much choice.

Lower taxes, less services, more choice about how to spend your hard earned money. It's your money after all. And it is. But you can't be trusted with it. You see, even though you're not happy with education/health/roads/water/blah/blah/blah/blah! you wont put your hard earned money aside to pay for these things. Instead, you build you big house with seven bedrooms and three bathrooms and quad zone air conditioning and a pool and plasma TV and buy two cars and blah blah blah. And then complain when the hospital waiting lists are too long or the train is late, or the schools are run down.

I say, take the choice away. Let the balance return. I don't want to think about services. I want to go to work, pay my taxes, and know that things are taken care of for me. I want to not to have to worry about whether my insurance is up to date, or what the excess will be on a claim, or worry about whether the kids can get into the good school.

The choices I want to make are where to go on my next holiday, or what to cook on the BBQ, or what movie I'll watch tonight.

Money is not what it's all about.
Do you work to live or live to work?
Everyone should take a breath and slow down for a second.
We'd all get along much better.

I reckon we'd be happier too.

So. Freedom of choice may be better coined as freedom from choice.


I'll tell you this...
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn.
--- Jim Morrison

Reveal yourself!

lurk (lûrk)

intr.v., lurked, lurk·ing, lurks.

1. To lie in wait, as in ambush.
2. To move furtively; sneak.
3. To exist unobserved or unsuspected: danger lurking around every bend.
4. To read but not contribute to the discussion in a newsgroup, chatroom, or other online forum.

[Middle English lurken, possibly of Scandinavian origin.]

Hello. You read and you do not post. Who are you? Where is your blog? Please share yourself with the rest of us. Pretty please! Don't be shy. Everyone and everything is welcome in my brain. It's not as full as it used to be.

Yes, I'm talking about you.

Really.

Really really.