My Wooden Cutting Board

Cutting BoardJust after breakfast, I developed this fascination with my wooden cutting board. This is where I prepare nearly all my food.

The shades of stains,
the mesh of grooves,
the spread of cutting angles
how one side is more indented than the other,
the alluring smell if you snuck a whiff.
I was entranced.
I marveled at it for well over a minute.

1024px-Chopping_BoardI couldn’t bare to show off a plastic cutting board. So dull and unrefined; no style whatsoever. Even worse would be a brand new wooden cutting board. How demonstrably ugly are those. Look!

Instead in these well-used wooden boards, there is history. I use one side more than the other, slowly sculpting it to become undoubtedly my greatest work of art. The unplayable golf green.

If this bacteria ridden monstrosity doesn’t wet one’s appetite, then nothing will.

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Posted in Reflections

The Story Didn’t Die

I have written it with trepidation. It will cause some readers pain. I do not find my candor, its realism greatly reassuring. I apologise to my readers and most of all my family for the harm it may cause.

People can go around thinking, wondering, planning, worrying and surmising, but unless they work at becoming effective communicators, it will be them alone with their thoughts. I hope this story inspires young men to communicate on a deeper level and feel proud in doing so.

Simply it is about a single male’s world. Its validity is subjective. This doesn’t matter, it’s not the point. What the story aims to demonstrate on a deeper level – in real-life prose – is how a regular man, succumbing to innate desires and self-indulgence, can almost totally destroy himself. However, by retaining one spark of feeling, the feeling of human love, such a man can be brought back to live a fulfilling life.

The moment could have got lost. But it hasn’t. I reclaimed it. The story didn’t die. It is a picture already complete. Never forgotten.
Fact.
Old men forget.
I haven’t. I won’t.
I will never leave this moment behind.

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Lost Tribe

No matter what he did,
where he went
for all the beer he drunk
the people he upset
for all the stupid things he did,
He could at least say to himself in the end:

‘I once had this thing that enabled me to stand up tall and give meaning to my life’.

But tonight like a lost tribe they dance without him.
Gone. he let it slip this thing he had
it fell apart, rather.
it could never come back together again.
he found out, when people walk away they do so forever.

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Conservation International (CI) – Nature is Speaking

I was watching CNN International news awaiting the start of the Masters golf on ESPN and up popped the message below about nature. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Just a wonderful and powerful info-message which pertains to us, THE HUMAN SPECIES. You will see a whole series of these Nature is Speaking ads with famous actors narrating on behalf of nature including Kevin Spacey, Harrison Ford and Julia Roberts. Edward Norton is the soil is a great one too.

Nature doesn’t need people, people need nature

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3. 1 per cent of the world will own more than half its wealth by 2016, Oxfam report says

 

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Posted in Science

Few People Know What it’s Like

You give it all day long and it’s a real grind,
and don’t get paid diddly,
struggling to just to make ends meet,
you also try to keep your colleagues level headed,
just so they don’t leave us,
sometimes they make the cut,
other times they miss out,
‘I plan on getting this one right’, one guy said
‘We are with you on this’, we bellow
but he flunks it and drops out,
it’s the hardest grind of all,
what fortitude does it take
to endure so much failure and tincy success?
‘It’s just a game’ one fella professed
‘A game’!? I protested, what a sick prick
‘Yeh its called virtual WGT golf’.

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Posted in Reflections, Sport and Adventure

The Appointment

appointmentI have an appointment with the computer. Every night nearly. It is waiting. My chair. A one man seat. My accustomed place that allows me to view everything that I feel needs viewing. Once again there is music in my ears. Songs which I downloaded are now playing on my crummy speakers.  Some go in one ear and out the other. Some stay and keep nagging me because they come attached to some memories. Some so strong they nearly bear a family resemblance. They don’t come out until I’ve hummed them out of my system. The online chat and beer flow in equal quantities.

Then MSN went quiet; it may as well have thrown me away.  I was overtaken by a feeling of frustration. I had to wonder what was happening to me.  I stared at the live camera image of myself and saw reflections of my own dull torn life. Every night meeting cautious people making me squirm in my seat. When I sat down before my computer I was gone in my seat, like a bum fumbling his tickets at the TAB – gone for all money.

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Posted in Reflections

A Brutal Four Minutes for Religion

You can find the whole speech here at Dangerous ideas festival in Sydney.

Related Articles:
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3. Winter Light (1963) Ingmar Bergman

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Posted in Reflections

Tiger Woods back for this years Masters

tiger_woods_afp

I’m licking my chops waiting for the Masters to finally arrive on Thursday.

I read  this article from the BBC News about Tiger’s comeback woes since his back surgery last year. It made for interesting reading. Then there were the plethora of comments about the endless debate of whether he is the best ever, and/or if he could ever get back to the top of his game. Amongst the relative angry and over-sensitive comments about ‘was he, will he be the best’,  one comment stood out and I would like to share it with you here. It’s by a relative modest chap called ‘PS’ noting Tiger’s recent worst professional round with an 82 when he missed the cut at Phoenix.:

Personally I’d be rather pleased with an 11 over par. It would equal my best ever round and make me and Tiger kinda kindred spirits, with this in common. Alas, whilst I do have a blonde wife, he doesn’t anymore, and he has a little more money than me, and a jet, and several homes, and a management company, and new clubs and better cars, but at least we share the score……..

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Posted in News, Sport and Adventure

A Christian Man Once Said

A Christian man once said: ‘The stories of Jesus’ birth—including his miraculous conception by the Holy Spirit, the Star of Bethlehem that led the wise men to where he was found, angels singing in the night sky—we now generally understand those as symbolic narratives or metaphorical narratives.’

The same man continued, ‘When I use the word metaphor, I want to underline that, for me, the word metaphor points to the more than literal, more than factual meaning of language,….I emphasise that because, for many people in the modern world, metaphor is sometimes seen as inferior to the language of factuality.’

And he plodded on, ‘I would say metaphorical language is actually more important than literal language, because metaphor is about meaning. Pretty much every story is in the Bible because our ancestors found meaning in them.’

These are actually the words of a man called Marcus Borg; a most influential New Testament scholar the ABC news tells us. See the whole story from ABC here.

My mother told me Santa Claus was real too. Only later to retract her 10 years of storytelling to clarify that he, Santa was really just a metaphor. Maybe she also meant to say ‘metaphor is not inferior to the language of factuality’ like scholar Borg.

I think we have moved on thanks to science (kudos to Darwin) and those marvelous inventors and technicians, modern civil society, respect of diversity and tolerance of different religious beliefs, modern technology, human rights, and lets not forget the development of the brain including our very own bullshit detection tools. By golly it’s taken a while.

Related Articles:
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2. A brutal four minutes for religion
3. Do you believe in Santa Claus?

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Posted in politics, Reflections

20 Seconds of Insane Courage

we-bought-a-zoo-Scarlett-JohanssonFor the school social I gargled Listerine. The pain felt reassuring. I sprayed my hair with Mum’s hairspray, “Taft”.
In the school hall, we shuffled to Toto’s “Africa”. Girls on the other side, giggled about stuff we’ll never be privy to. They did, however, have pert adolescent tits. We puffed out our chests, bobbing over exaggeratedly to the beat.
The girl of my dreams, South African-born Cheryl V hardly notices me as I do everything in my power just to meet her eyes. The next day she went steady with an acquaintance of mine.
He later told me, “Sometimes all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage, just literally 20 seconds of embarrassing bravery, and I promise you something great will come of it.”
I replied, ‘Did you just buy a fucking zoo’?

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Posted in Movies and TV, Reflections

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