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Monthly Archives: January 2009

Inflated reputation

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Thousands of little towns around the world anonymously function for the benefit of their citizens, day in and day out.  Nothing special ever happens to attract outside attention.  Selfless acts of courage and sacrifice go by, unnoticed by the rest of the world.

Occasionally however, something will happen to propel your town into the international media spotlight, and fill your heart with local and national pride.  A moment in time and history when your town demonstrates to the rest of the world its special achievement.

This is not one of them.

Cairns' recent claim to fame occurred after a series of break and enter crimes on a sex shop.  The offender broke into the shop on 3 separate occasions, stole blow-up dolls, had a deep and meaningful relationship with those called "Jungle Jane" before discarding them in the street.

Police advised that the offender gained rear entry (their words, not mine) to the premises from a laneway, and that they were looking for a "tall skinny Caucasian" to help them with their enquiries.

I accordingly had to keep a low profile for a week or so until a more appropriate suspect was arrested.  
The whole sordid little affair is now over.

Now, as a proud citizen, what can I do to truly enhance the reputation of my little town?

I am thinking perhaps the world needs another Bhagwan.
Ghofwan Rajneesh…..I am feeling positively guruish already.

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Lessons from the rainforest

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There is a little track wandering into the tropical rainforest of Wooroonooran National Park not far from where I live.  
Ninety years ago it was a major thoroughfare for mule and horse teams travelling between the Atherton Tablelands and the coast, some 40 km distant.  These days it abruptly ends after only a few kilometres, the remainder having been consumed, over time, by forest regrowth.

I bicycle, or walk, or both, several times a week along this track for my physical health, but more importantly to provide me with a meditative interlude alone with nature.
Human arrogance being as it is, I tend to regard this little patch of the planet as "mine" for, only rarely, do I ever come across another person.
Of course it is no more "mine" than it ever was for the original aboriginal inhabitants who wandered around this country for many thousands of years, nor the more recent gold miners and timber cutters who, during the 20th century, plundered the environment for personal wealth.
It is also not significantly more "mine" by virtue of my being human, than it is for any other living organism existing within the rainforest.

These regular sojourns over very many years have taught me much, and continue to do so. Rainforest is alive, dynamic and inspirational.
To stand beside a huge rainforest tree is a sobering reminder of my insignificance and fragility in the overall scheme of things.  
The knowledge that we will both, eventually, nourish future life on Earth by our provision of organic litter.

Cyclone Larry devastated this area almost beyond recognition nearly 3 years ago.  Although it will take at least 100 years to fully recover, nature immediately got on with the regenerative processes.  
Catastrophic events are part of the natural world…. a major event in the life of a man, yet simply a minor adjustment in terms of the evolution of our planet's geography.

The vehicle track today terminates in what many would consider a "dead end".  Yet it is only such for those who choose not to abandon the convenient transport of our era, and explore the magnificence which abounds beyond.
Similarly, human knowledge and understanding of life and the universe is only expanded by those with the vision to see beyond the commonly accepted parameters.

My rainforest will continue to be my classroom and tutor, my source of inner peace, my cathedral of worship, my sanctuary from vexation, and my place for understanding the universe.

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GOF’s new contractual arrangements

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I have, for the past few weeks been in negotiation with the creator of The Bucket, concerning its future.
We reached the following conclusions;

1. He is a deeply troubled soul, with such an array of personality disorders that he probably should be committed forthwith to an Institution for the Terminally Bewildered.

2. The Israelis and Palestinians have been very naughty boys indeed during my absence, and failed to adopt my guaranteed peace initiative. (here)

3. All of my future literary contributions to The Bucket shall be limited to serious subject matter only, in deference to the troubled state of the world.
It is not an appropriate time for levity, trivia, or the inconsequential.


Whats with all the grunting, girls?

GOF has always enjoyed watching elite sportsmen and women on television.   The four Grand Slam tennis events of the world are on my viewing list.  Well they were.  I am now discouraged.  Poor GOF.
Womens tennis used to be a favorite of mine, partly because I enjoy watching beautiful women in short skirts (for which I may, in 2020, seek counselling), but mostly because they play extended rallies where they are able to exhibit a broader range of skills than the men who just blast off a series of aces at 200+ kilometres per hour.

So why has it become necessary in the last 10 years for some women players, especially from the ex Soviet bloc countries, to accompany every single stroke with ear shattering squeals, sneezes, grunts or facsimiles of orgasmic satisfaction?
Champions of eras past, Hingis, Graf, Navratilova, King, Court, and Goolagong conducted themselves with efficient and dignified silence.  
Women golfers, soccer players, baseball and basketball players don't do it.  Why has it seemingly becoming a prerequisite for highly ranked female tennis players?

Any possibility it has something to do with bad sportsman(women)ship and distracting the opposing player?

No, of course not.  Silly me. There's probably a perfectly plausible sporting biometric explanation.   One which has no concern for the principle that to honorably play the game is more important than to dishonorably win it.
And thank you to whoever invented the television "mute" button.

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