The Facilitation Mafia

Ever since I started this blog, I'm becoming aware that my life back home is nowhere near as wacky as it was overseas.

Sure, working, studying and living in my own home town where I speak the language, versus moving every four days through utterly foreign places and living in places that actively promote drunkenness each night, may not be a really fair comparison. Nonetheless, it's slightly concerning.

So it's always nice when you get a ridiculous situation turn up. Especially when you're well into the thick of it before you realise just how ridiculous it actually is.

War. Doing the terrorists' job for them since 2001.

Ok, I could run on at the mouth for hours on this topic. But it's late, I'm still in the damn offic because we haven't got internet in our otherwise sweet-as house yet, and statistically speaking, no one responds to my long posts.

I had a sudden realisation the other day, wandering around town. We're in Iraq and Afghanistan to fight terrorism right? Iraq was a lways dodgy from the get-go, but Afghanistan is considered pretty legitimate in that Al Qaeda was known to be hanging out there.

So we invade Afghanistan to protect the lives of US citizens from terrorist attacks.

Does anyone else notice the enormous flaw in this logic?

And I swore I was never going to do this again after Corsica...

Long long time readers will be familiar with one of the more ridiculous episodes of the Palunawack Tours across Europe last year.

Namely, the 'Screwing up the timetables and sleeping under a bush with an unstable French-woman' incident. Shortly followed by the 'Screwing up the timetables again and having to fend off thieves in Milan' incident the next night.

I swore (loudly) at the time that I would never ever again fail to read a timetable. As a result I was doomed to almost certain failure in this regard.

Intolerant of Tolerance

Whenever there is a clash of values, this seems to be our standard response. Tolerate the differences. Just because they are different doesn't mean they're any better or worse than yours.

So what if that guy disagrees with climate change? Everyone's entitled to their opinion! Who are you to say your beliefs are any more valid than someone else's? If a Muslim woman wants to wear a hijab, then that is her right.

Or as the big man once said: Thou shalt not judge.

And to this collectively recognised and long respected bastion of our society, I have only one response:

Wrong.

The Spliff of Mystery

A mystery wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in cigarette papers and stuffed with weed. And thrown at my head.

Now let’s get this out of the way up front: I’m not into drugs. Not a fan. This is a well though-out position based on rational consideration of the evidence. The fact that I vomit significantly whenever I’m around the gear and wake up under trees (or on the 14^th floor of a docklands apartment building on one occasion) has nothing to do with it at all. But that's a topic for another post.

But some people are. And frankly, if we’re going to compare weed to alcohol, it’s kinda hard to get all self-righteous. Besides, I’ve got bigger, more important things to complain pointlessly about.

Child of the 70s

I remember skyping with my parents in the final days of my Euro trip last year, discussing what I was going to do when I got home (uncertain), whether I would try and get the same sort of job again (unlikely),and more importantly, where I was going to live.

This last was a question I was not keen to grapple with. I am blessed with parents who not only managed to bring me up compassionately and firmly, but possess the asbestos ears necessary to put up with my ranting whenever the television is on. 

But after 12 months of total freedom gallivanting around the continent, careless, fancy-free and, all too often inebriated, my Mum saying “We expect you will move back in with us for at least six months” was not exactly enthusing.

Lyrical philosophers. Kinda.

Just a short one until I get my act together and post something awesome soon. Much big news to come!

I was browsing the Herald Sun again (I am rather self-destructive) and ran across this little gem:

Demi Moore in Twitter war with Kim Kardashian over her use of word 'pimpin'.

I can't beleive I opened this story thinking I was going to get some sort of social commentary. The word 'Twitter' should have been warning enough.