What the hell do I have to do to wake up from this nightmare? Gay Pride MONTH? Seriously? 1/12th of a year dedicated to people who want to boldly go where no man should ever go? Sorry, Star Trek, but Captain Kirk would never have navigated to the Gay Galaxy.
Sometimes, you just have to say no. Enough. I am all out of sympathy, all out of hugs and all out of embraces for men who do not want to be a blokie bloke.
A bloke is Aussie speak for a man. To be a blokie bloke means a man who is a real man. And I for one have a great deal of respect and admiration for men who still proudly proclaim their blokeiness. You know the kind of thing: being hardworking, masculine and protective. And he sure as hell doesn't wear a tutu or drive an e-scooter to save the planet.
Gay Pride Month is, in my very not humble opinion, a month too long.In fact, I would abolish all bloody recognition days.
But if we are stuck with them, is there any way that I can get a month for Bloke Month? You know, the idea of a whole month where men can – with their mates – drink beer, cuss, scratch their balls and ogle big-breasted women and fart in bed? 'OK, I am not a male. But I get the vibe. I was married to one and I know what a blokie bloke is. Yet, in spite of these things, they still manage to go to work, pay the bills and generally make life better for all those they know.
Read more: Here's an idea... What about Bloke Month?
One fateful day in March 2020, the incompetent men shut down the world with lockdowns. It was the opposite of the premise in Atlas Shrugged. Who is John Galt? Who cares? The incompetent people could stop the motor of the world too. Atlas shrugs either by disappearing competence or by an overwhelming mass of incompetence too great even for Atlas’s broad, strong shoulders.
Competency crises seem to be brewing left and right and are constantly on public display of late. Consider the self-interested testimony of Fani Willis. Jared Bernstein, the chair of the White House Council of Economic Advisers, caused an interview to go viral by struggling to explain monetary policy.
Several previously 100% effective Covid vaccines have been withdrawn from the market (Johnson & Johnson, AstraZeneca). Lastly, consider the inspiring image of our own Secretary of Defense triumphantly marching off his plane in the Philippines wearing his Covid mask and face shield.
Trump is a master boomerang hurler. He throws them out and sometimes hits and sometimes misses. But he always knows his target. When he misses, the prey, whether it be a feral pig, a snake, or a wayward lizard, it will always know that it was nearly a victim and it feels fear of the next attack.
A boomerang is an ancient weapon created by Australian Aboriginal ( Indigenous ) People. It was a hunting weapon. If it hits its target, the prey and the boomerang could be used for the future. In the case of the prey for food, clothing and in the case of the weapon, to be recycled to use again.
If, on the other hand, the weapon missed its target, it would come back to wait until it could be hurled in the future to harvest its prey.
The missed target feels the presence of the mighty warrior that stalks it; the shadow that follows it and it tries to hide in caves and gullies. But it can never rest easily for fear that the boomerang slayer is close behind. Ready to launch the shot that will kill it or, worse stun it.
The stun is the worst shot. The prey is still alive and fully aware that it is about to be vanquished. No, death is preferable to stunning. At least death is a quick kill. But to stun you?? To stun is terror: to come back to consciousness and see the eyes of your hunter staring at you and ready – not to kill you, but to torture you.
Trump is a very skilled hunter.
Read more: Trump - A Story of Boomerangs and the Hunter and the Hunted
I have been moved to write about one of the world's most iconic food staples - the Hamburger. It all started when I read that Woolworths is about to stop purchasing locally grown fruit from Australian canneries and, instead, buy imported Chinese and South African products.
A few years ago, I went down to see my daughter at Redhead's place ( Mum for those of you who don't know that ) and we sat around chatting, yarning on and convened the knitting circle of " Memory Lane. "
It was not your average 4 generational conversation, but we are not your average family. We are a family of strong men. Strong women and very well behaved children. One of the younger generation attended our meeting of the minds. 13 years old. It must have been an eye opener.
We tallked about the architecture of Prague, the failure of the judicial system; the insanity of the vaccine mandates; the lunacy of stirring up racial divides; the rainfall this year and the prettiness of pink shoes.
We moved on to the joy of sharing our lives with pets. We wandered down mossy pathways of memories long forgotten yet resurrected through our shared familial memory.
We talked about the past, the present and the future.
On June 6, 1944, the world witnessed an extraordinary event that changed the course of World War II. Known as the Normandy Landing, or D-Day, it marked the largest amphibious invasion in human history.
The Normandy Landing was the result of months of meticulous planning and preparation by Allied forces. Under the command of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, a multinational coalition consisting of American, British, Canadian, and other Allied troops including Australian, came together to devise an audacious plan. The objective was to establish a foothold in Nazi-occupied France and initiate the liberation of Western Europe.
In the stories from history, certain events stand out as extraordinary displays of human resilience and solidarity.
One such event is the evacuation of Dunkirk during World War II.
Against all odds, the allied forces executed a remarkable rescue mission that saved hundreds of thousands of lives and altered the course of the war. The operation, known as the "Miracle of Dunkirk," remains etched in our collective memory as a testament to the indomitable spirit of humanity in the face of adversity.
It happened early in World War II between the end of May and the beginning of June 1940.
As German forces rapidly advanced through France, over 400,000 Allied soldiers found themselves trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk. The situation was dire, with the enemy closing in and the prospects of escape looking bleak. It was a pivotal moment in the war, and the fate of the Allied forces hung in the balance.
Read more: The Evacuation of Dunkirk - a "Miracle of Deliverance"
I have just spoken with my Mum about my Dad and we have enjoyed a trip down memory lane about Old Times. It is his birthday today and while he is not longer with us, he is still very much part of our lives. As much as he has gone, he is still with us. Everyday. While we, as a family, mourn his passing some years ago, we still celebrate his life.
When it is his birthday or the anniversary of his passing; when I am feeling lonely or in need of guidance or help – I just reach out and lo and behold, a connection happens and I get a FEELING, a wondrous gift… It does not matter who your loved one is – talk with them and share with them. Stay in touch. Keep the lines of communication open .
On my Dad’s important days, I do something I know he would like. It might be eating a “ goodie “ – his term for an indulgence like a creamy doughnut full of real cream and strawberry jam. Later, I must confess, I drink the forbidden fruit of alcohol and overindulge and wake up the next morning telling him it was all his fault…. Strange how he rarely responds to me with an answer on those occasions.…. except to tell me it was my own bloody fault and not to blame him.
The difference between life and death is a millisecond. How can one fraction of a second suddenly dictate that this loving friendship is over? All that has happened is that we have lost the telephone line, the internet or the postal service. We just find a new way of staying in touch.
Read more: When Dad's Wielded Shovels...... and Men Were Men
In a 2016 interview with photographer Steven Edson, CNN asked, “What makes a car sexy?”
Edson replied, “It’s because a lot of the parts of those cars are, in fact, sexy.” He cited the taillights on the 1959 Cadillac Series 62, which he described as “like rare ruby earrings.”
Most of today’s cars, however, Edson lamented, are “homogenous” and offer little of interest to the photographer.
Enter Elon Musk. In 2019, the Tesla Model Y completed the company’s long-awaited “S3XY” family of models – the S3Xyest cars on the road today. That’s one major reason they sold well. Even so, Carscoops admitted that whether Tesla’s S3XY family was sexy remained up for debate.
Maybe the sex appeal of the electric vehicle is wearing off. Tesla is slashing prices, Ford cut back production of its electric pickup and cut the price of its Mustang Mach-E, and General Motors is looking at bringing back plug-in hybrids. Even the EPA is toying with extending the timetable for the total phaseout of non-electric vehicles.
Today, I want to write about a politician. We are surrounded by these public figures who love to bask in their reflected glory through the lens of the media, social media and their own lens of self importance.
They think they can do no wrong.
We have politicians who lie, cheat, exploit their office for self gratification and financial reward; all the while thinking that they are doing nothing wrong.
And no, I am not talking about Donald Trump. He already has more money than he could spend in a lifetime and more public support and adoration than just about any man on earth today. So if you feel that way, bugger off. This blog and post are not for you.
No, I am talking about your run of the mill, average " Uncle Joe " politician who can seemingly go from modest to millions in a matter of years with a bank account that is off the charts.
And it all comes down to greed, inflated egos and self delusion.
The definition of online freedom has been depressingly constricted over the last thirty years.
You have surely heard that your search results on Google (with 92 percent share of the search market) reflect not your curiosities and needs but someone or something else’s views on what you need to know. That’s hardly a secret.
And on Facebook, you are likely inundated by links to official sources to correct any errors you might carry in your head, as well as links to corrections to posts as made by any number of fact-checking organizations.
You have likely also heard of YouTube videos being taken down, apps deleted from stores, and accounts being canceled across a variety of platforms.
You might have even adjusted your behavior in light of all of this. It is part of the new culture of Internet engagement. The line you cannot cross is invisible. You are like a dog with an electric shock collar. You have to figure it out on your own, which means exercising caution when you post, pulling back on hard claims that might shock, paying attention to media culture to discern what is sayable and what is not, and generally trying to avoid controversy as best you can in order to earn the privilege of not being canceled.
I have just read something I wrote 4 years ago. It is the anniversary of my little Jack's departure from this world in 2022. He was nearly 18 years old.
June is a very important month . My birthday coming up too , Mr Redhead's birthday as well, and a 74th wedding anniversary ( if he was still with me to share it). But we made 65 years together. My dear little Jack Russell departed this world on the 1st June , and I visited the RSPCA and took home my 2 Manx cats on the 4th June. 2 years ago. Those very ones that so kindly wake me every morning around 4.45 am !
When I re read it, it made me realize that while things have changed, (we are no longer restricted in movement , people are able to visit .. and those dreadful masks have gone) .. except of course by the criminals.
But instead of confined to homes, the homes have been stolen from some people and they are reduced to caravans and tents . Jobs have been lost and can you name one person in Australia that has not had a member of their family or a close friend who has not suffered some dire ailment from the "jab".
Read more: Bird Watching Jack Russells and Pineapples - an " I remember when " trip down Memory Lane
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