The Limit...

Imagine what you could achieve if you realised you are not as bad as you think you are. 

Imagine how much good you could do. 

Inferno Blues...

This was a film script I wrote many years ago...just after I left the police force.  It got a bit of attention...Film Financing Script development money, the script went from Bryan Brown to Russell Crowe to...all over the joint.  And then...it just died.   

It was basically about my experiences at a pretty tough station in inner city Melbourne.   Some of these bastards were so ugly...I thought I was in Hell.   Which was interesting...wandering into a hellish place like that full to the brim with rape, ultra-violence and corruption...

& this was just the cops.   

Funny also...it felt familiar.  It felt just like home.    

So...I wrote about it.   

I guess you could describe it as 'Training Day' meets the 'Exorcist'.   Or at least, that's how I see it.  For some reason, I've been thinking about this script a lot lately.  I have written many like it...but this one, for some reason, has been nagging at me.   

I keep seeing George Clooney as Cain; he'd be about the right age.   I can't get it out of my head.   & now I revisit it...I can't get something else out of my head.  In the script, there is an evil Sergeant Cain.  He is basically the devil.  The narrative is an attempt to convey that confusion that comes when you- through no fault of your own- find yourself in hell, and have no idea how to get out.   

It shows you things about yourself.   

I never blame the Germans during the war for allowing Hitler to do what he did.   There is a little bit of that in all of us...that cowardice, that comes out when we can see we are making the wrong choice...the bad choice... & we ignore it.  I know I did; I could have made the right choice- sure, I knew I would die in the process- but one should be prepared to die doing the right things in that kind of environment.  

That's how Mr T got in.  Good people doing nothing.  

We can only surmise what Trump will do next.   Seems that wall is going ahead... that's satanic enough in itself.  & the way he feels about women, and people with disabilities, blacks and mexicans...

It's funny.  This all reminds me of my own time in hell, when I was unable to differentiate fact from fantasy.   It was like a dream.   I never know, reading the script now, whether the protagonist is in actual Hell, or only a metaphoric hell.   I thought it was a metaphor; but now?  I'm not sure.

Nor can I tell if Sgt Cain and his ilk are the metaphoric devil... or a real one.   Nor can I tell that about myself.  Frankly?  I think the devil is me.

 

When I was there, in that hellish domain, I had no idea what was real, and what was illusion.   A bad dream, I tell you.  & god was NOWHERE in sight.   I know a little more now.    You see...I posted something about Donald Trump, and  the way in which he speaks to women.   

I think I should name and shame myself, in the interests of disclosure. when I was much younger...I used to speak like Donald Trump about women.   Particularly when I was a cop.   In fact...it was de rigeur in the force.   That doesn't make it right...it makes it...a systemic reality. 

& it was not just cops who spoke in this way. I knew a detective at Russell Street who proudly worse his t-Shirt, 'I'm not racist- I hate everyone equally.'  & most cops show this.  

 

Me?  My bark was worse than my bite.  Turns out...I didn't like violence much.  But...I spoke about women, and minorities in a fairly diminutive manner; which is just as bad as acting towards such people in a diminutive manner.

 

I  think I had to make an extra special effort to overcome all this. 

Having been raped and abused as a child does funny things to your brain.   But...rather than banging on about that, I decided to explore the possibility that I might actually be able to get out from under all that shit, and be my own person.   I'm a work in progress.   I make other choices now; I hope, better choices.   If i can't tell you the truth about all this...if I am going to swagger about saying how bad other men are...then I am just as disingenuous as them.  I will have learned NOTHING. 

 

I am nothing more than a walking talking LIE MACHINE.

 

I like to think I don't do that anymore.

 

So...if I'm going to act as though I don't know this kind of behaviour...in fact, all the racist and sexist bullshit like the kind my father brainwashed me with...& the patriarchal society re-enforced...then I'm no man, and no friend to you.   I AM Sergeant Cain.  I AM the devil. 

Age gives you a kind of perspective. & I think if I am going to be what i claim to be...an honest person...then I should come clean. 

 

This type of mongrel lurks in all of us. My vote goes to the man who keeps it under confinement. When I was younger...I failed at it.

 

I think i'm doing much better now. 

 

But it's about choices; thought words and deeds. every choice...every day...in the direction of, i guess...

enlightenment. 

evolution.

 

transcendence. 

 

end of the sermon.   

Circle Jerk

Heavy thoughts in my brain about the situation over the pond. 

It's hard to imagine with the view I have, that anything could be awry...but awry things are.  
 
It's kinda hard to stay motivated in a world gone mad.  And this world is proving madder than even I...& that's some kind of monster.


Who would have thought he'd get in.  

OK, well...now he's in, dug in like a tic on the arse of a water buffalo...

What to do.   

I think my buddy in Gotham had it right...it's one thing to whip one another into a frenzy over this crap- but preaching to the choir ends up to be nothing more than mutual masturbation. 

There is nothing wrong with a nice circle jerk, as long as you mop up after you...

& KEEP IT SHORT.   

Provided we remember to direct some of our energy, enthusiasm & fire toward doing something constructive out in the world...(& to my mind, if you can spent a few hours here banging drums and waving placards...then you can do it out in the world.) 

& as long as we all try to be the change we wish to see...before it's too late...

then I think history will judge us fairly.   

I'm satisfied, maybe for the first time in my life...I'm actually doing my bit. 


Howzabout you?

Good Moose Head...

Don't be afraid to give Canada a try; they don't all blunder about saying 'aboot' & 'hoser', guzzling Poutine, rooting mooses & bragging about no gun crime. Most Canadians are lovely, and the scenery...damn.

Too many ironies in the fire...

the very definition of Irony is seeing the way black people in the US are treated by hateful whites...when it was whites who put them into boats & brought them there against their will in the first place.

Now, to these racist rednecked mother fuckers...black folk are much like a human cane toad; an introduced species, that can no longer be controlled, and are no longer wanted.

Basically.

Speaking of Australian pests, we in OZ didn't have to ship our black people in...they were already here on our arrival, so we could stomp the shit out of them at our convenience. We were so good at it...we managed to slaughter & exterminate every aboriginal soul in Tasmania. This was genocide long before the word was even born.

All those black people...all gone.

And just so you don't think I'm off the hook...one of my ancestors in the 1850's was employed by graziers to act as an aboriginal hunter. He shot them like vermin. & yes...even now...I taste vomit in my mouth at the thought of it. All of it. It wasn't all that long ago, you know, and I have an excellent memory for crap like this.

I'll never forget it. Not while the earth turns.

The stench of horseshit like this makes it pretty fuckin' hard to breathe around here. Just makes me want to take off my white skin and dance around free in my bones.

Free from all this...

White man's guilt?

Maybe. But I can only say how I feel.

You be the judge.


But I can tell you this...it's not peaceful.

Vet's Day.

 

Man, it's like a bloody veterinary clinic around here lately; found this little fellow in the fireplace, he got in, sans appointment.  Got him out of there, but he got away at one point, so I had to cetch him!  Another animal, successfully rehabilitated and released back into le wilde...  

 

 

Lars and the Real Ex-Girl.

 Now there's something you don't see every day...on the road to Warrnambool. 

 

Ones and Twos...

I always liked Mr. Obama.

Sure, his administration wasn't all beer and skittles, but lets face it...he's up there with the best of them.

I just felt...safe knowing he was in the chair.

In charge. The Boss. The Head Man. Top Dog. Big Cheese. Head Honcho. Numero Uno.

Sorry.

I'm overcome with...a strange kind of sadness.

I don't have access to any of the Intelligence agency recording of all the sayings and doings in the White House (I still can't get over that...HAH!! 'White House!), but for the most part, I think he was a pretty fair and decent man.

I don't know the ins and outs of Obamacare...


I know some liked it...some did not.

It's not for me to comment, as a foreigner.

I think all health care should be gratis.

Anyway...I just...thought he was a nice fellow. And a breath of fresh air, after that previous toss pot.

I don't give a good goddamn that Obama was a smoker, I don't need to see his birth certificate, & I don't care that his name sounded like he was the King of All Things Terror.

& the first lady...MAN. She was foxier than 'Coffy'.


I have to say...I liked him, & now...I like him about a thousand times more now than I did when I first saw him, in that motorcade driving along Pico- I think it was just near the LaBrea tar pit- a few years back.

I saw him...& I just knew...

things were going to be OK for a little while.


But now?

It stuns me to think of the amount of hatred and vitriole being launched at him on his way out the door, like all the rednecks have gathered to pelt him with specially prepared cowpats they been saving just for this day. I hate to introduce a turd into the cereal bowl at this juncture...

but is it at all possible some Americans just don't like black people?

Night Light.

This is a lightning strike on the cliff last night.

It pretty much summed up for me what life is. 

You wake up, and you can see a little bit of…something. 

Then you can see a little bit more.

 Then…it’s big and bright, and you can see everything.

  

Then, it starts to darken slightly.

…& things settle in. 

Then they fade slightly…

& a little more…

& a little more…

More, more more…

& then they light up again, not as strongly as before, but still basically all there…

& then they fade again. 

A little more…

& a little more…

Until there is nothing but a little pinprick of light in the darkness. 

It looks a bit like a star. 

That…is the tiniest trace of your existence. 

A hint…the slightest hint from a great distance…evidence you were here. 

Although long gone…

There is a sign in the sky you were here. 

It’s not much…

But it’s there. 

All pretty insignificant, really. 

So…just do your best. 

It’s a mad house…

The odds are stacked against you, and the house always wins.

So…do your best with what you have…

& try not to be too much of a prick,

A pin prick in the night sky. 

Enter The Dragonfly

Just one last thing about my experience with the Dragonfly.  I'm telling you, I really thought this dragonfly was D-E-D dead.  Deader than a dead thing in a part of the world where death is most deadly.  A certain party thinks this was the soul of a...ok, I'm not going to go THAT far.  But it was a pretty magical experience...I mean...how many Dragonflies have you seen lying on their back legs akimbo in the gutter in the blaring summer sun that were not dead??  I assumed it was dead, and was going to pick it up and take it home & put it somewhere.  But as I touched it...it's legs started wriggling!  Amazing!  A half hour in the shade, and she was ready to go!  Lovely experience.   

Dragonfly Whisperer...

A bit of a story behind this...I found this dragonfly in the gutter, in the hot sun, and I thought it must have been dead.  I picked it up, and it was actually still alive!  Weak, but alive!  

So...I held it for a little while, took a few pics, but when I tried to put it down in the shade, it would not let go!!  

I spent about half hour with this beautiful creature.  It had the shakes something fierce, but I noticed as I spent time with it, the shakes subsided.  Gradually, I got the feeling she was feeling better, so I gently eased her off my finger...but she STILL would not let go! 

So, I had to sit, until she was fully rested, and finally...she let go, and flew off of her own accord. 

That's a nice way to spend a half hour...     

Show and Tell

just a re-post of the banned blog...the objections as you can imagine came from the jesus zombie cult. i'll post it again, in the interests of free speech. i'm not going to go on about it...but i will say this. how dare you take a big shit on the memory of this poor girl by suggesting the very 'god' who caused her to suffer so terribly then hang herself in her back yard was 'loved by god'. HOW DARE YOU! now...i have no objections to the kind of insanity you espouse...you want to believe in a fictional being in the sky, then that's your business. you want to believe a giant white toaster created the universe, that is your call. but you DARE to come here and crap on this poor girl's memory by bringing that horseshit here...then i promise you, i will find you, hunt you down, and take it out of your hide. you believe what you like at home...but you bring that godjesus child murdering crap out into the real world, where it can be heard by children, then you have me to answer to. what you don't understand is...children are impressionable. they believe this fictional bullshit. so...keep it to yourself. 'god' clearly did not 'love' this little girl...no father in his right mind would allow his child to suffer in this way. there is no god...so stop suggesting there is. no god would create the world...then cause such horror. BUT...if there is a god...i would say by now he's feeling pretty guilty lately, with some of the horror he has allowed in the world. perhaps, like Kurtz, he wants Willard to come and put him out of his misery. Well...I am the man to do it. When I die...I will find this poor excuse for a creator, and I will take the time to hear him out. & then? I will tear him a new one. There is NO excuse for allowing children to suffer like this. NONE. This 'god', if he exists, may well feel guilt. I will gladly put him out of his misery. Who knows...maybe I was born to put right this sort of horror. hold the 'father' accountable. But...I really don't believe in him. (it's not a her...no woman would allow children to suffer.) So...I admit...I am angry there was no one to care for this girl, and I am angry with the jesus humpers actually trying to tel me that 'god loved her'. Utter utter crap. 'god hated her- or he would never have let her suffer like this. For all the children in the world who have suffered thus...i feel you. & I will stand up for you. i will not abandon you like this furry freak 'god' has.

RIP: Katelyn Nicole Davis. Our so called 'god' tormented you, then left you to die like a dog hanging from a tree. And now his demons have done their level best to ensure I don't post about it. Well...this was pretty heavy going to write...and you will no doubt find it a heavy going read. So...proceed with caution. The typeface is not what I would like...you will no doubt see evidence of god's demons work throughout the text...but I fought to post it. I think it is important...& I think this poor little 12 year old and her suffering need to be acknowledged. I think this is so heartbreaking...I'm not sure I did the girl justice. But I did try...I am certainly satisfied i did more than our so called 'loving god', who so loved his children, he makes them suffer, then die in the most inhumane manner possible. Suffer the children indeed.

Yes...I am ANGRY. I have no objection to god coming after me...I know he hates my guts. & that is fine...I am a big boy. But to make children suffer like this. Shame on you. SHAME on you, for turning your back on this poor soul. RIP, sweet one...



OK...so...if you're having a happy day?  Please don't read this. 

Because the news is not good. 

Don't let me spoil your vibe...go and dance with the pixies, or fiddle with your little bits of whatnot...

whatever you do with your life.  It's cool, don't you know.

This one is about Katelyn Nicole Davis, who has posted to the Live Me app, claiming she was physically and sexually abused by a relative then filmed herself taking her own life.  

Now...as you know, I have no objection to suicide.

Not if it's done right.

Funny...some people go their entire lives never contemplating suicide. 
That's fantastic.  But if you have been raped and tortured as a child...then you will know what it is like to have death and nightmares for your constant companions. That's just the way it is. 

This young lady...like so many others...was sexually abused, apparently. 

Take it from me...once you are raped...you are fucked for life.  Sexual abuse does something to your brain, that's all there is to it.  Yes it's sad...& there is not much anyone can do about it.

Trust me, when you have been abused...the battle to reclaim your brain goes on the rest of your life.

And once you start talking about suicide...you are instantly marginalized as a human being.

I have plenty of FB friends...but flesh and blood ones?  People here by my side?  None.  The Unforgiven live alone.  

So I know what this girl was going through.

It is tough when you have an illness through no fault of your own that marginalizes you and lances all your friends from your life.

One day you look around...& you are alone.


(oh...to be fair, it's not that bad.  I'm social enough.  A writer generally must live alone, and even as a kid, I preferred to be alone.  The teachers thought I had a mental disorder...or was autistic.  Maybe they were right.  But I can't get away with feeling sorry for myself...not really.  It's not true.  I do OK.)

But I get it, Katelyn.

I have been so alone...it threatened NEVER to make sense. 

I know what it is like...your only lifeline being the internet.

& it can be a tenuous link.  

you can tend to misuse it.

That's just the way it is.

As I said...I have no problem with suicide; sometimes it is the only way to shut out the demons.

I'm lucky...I've been there, but I have my FB mates, and the love of the word to keep me occupied.

Which is why I am writing this.

Sadly...the internet has a dark side, and this is the real tragedy; that this girl felt compelled to post her suicide for others to see.

And there are plenty of vampires out there who devour this type of shit.

The thing is...when you have been abused...your soul cries for the help you never got when it was happening.  

Eventually...that cry becomes a scream, and it gets out into the world in all sorts of ways.

I hear you...sure...sometimes I bang on about it too much.  You could argue...it is like masturbating in public...Self indulgent.  

No...it's more like...taking a dump in your hand and showing it to people. I'm sure that's how my stuff comes across sometimes...a self indulgent mess.    

It's cool.  I get it.

But it keeps me alive...and every day I'm alive, is another chance to contribute something to society, rather than take from it.

To help, rather than hinder.

To love, rather than hate.  

You see...this 'shit' of mine...

It might also be 'good shit'.  To someone.

Fertiliser.

One day I will write something that will touch someone, perhaps make them think again about taking their own life.

They might change their heart, turn it all around.

You never know.

We live in hope.

I get it...I get what makes people want to do it...

But...I say stick around...you never know what might happen.

You just NEVER know what might be around the corner.

Could be love.

Could be success.

Could be you...stepping into the fullness of your being, as Antoine De St Exupery said.

Could be.

HOWEVER...if you really can't cope...

then by all means, move along.

But DON'T tape it.

What is it that compels so many young people to film it?

(I can feel a sense of deja vu...I have said this before.

I will no doubt say it again.  When you get that feeling...I am telling you...you are in touch with your core being.

That part of you...that indicates who you truly are, at your core.

That part of you that transcends time and space.

Travels from one lifetime to another, from one reality to another.

It is where your authentic soul being criss crosses and zig zags intersecting across all the infinite possibilities in the multiverse of your being.  And for me...

it is worth sticking around for.)

I get why this little girl killed herself...

if you have been raped...it is hard to find anyone who gives a good goddamn.  I know it.  & that is just fine by me.

BECAUSE...people who have been raped suffer the kind of damage to the brain that can make you a little tricky to live with.

That's fine...that's just the way it is.

It is not our fault...it's just the way of things.

It's a cruel world, and you will carry your demons forever, if you do not find a way to reach out for help.

Find the help you need.

You CAN find the help you need...but you have to make the first move, and you have to meet people half way...

& it has to be a sustained campaign...

no giving up...

You have to stay in for the long haul...commit...if you REALLY want to reach out to your fellow man, and re-enter society.

It's tooth and nail out there; you have to fight.

Compassion will not be swinging by your sofa any time soon.  It will not be streaming through your TV or computer to scoop you up and carry you to salvation.

It's an old fashioned FIGHT.

This little girl was desperate.

She took her life...

& filming it...was a cry for help.  In my opinion.

I have been there.

Ultimately?  In that moment of decision?

You are on your own.

Sadly...she was too young to be able to see beyond her actions.

See another side.

It's like a kind of...fame.

Fame is a distorted version of the attention you need when you have been marginalized and sequestered.

If you can't find fame (attention/compassion) by solid, productive, creative means that contribute something to the world...

You can resort to...say...murder.  

Or a televised suicide.

These are the desperate actions of a soul in torment that has not...or CANNOT think things through.

The consequences for others....

Are significant.  

And irreversible.   

Suicide is not selfish...

Filming your death by your own hand IS.

It influences others.

Equally impressionable.

And hurts the one you love.

This is NOT the legacy you want.

But Katelyn's brain was not mature enough to process all these intricacies, and nuances, and the damage done to her thought processes by her rapist most certainly did not help.

I wish this poor desperate little one peace.

When they do this...when young people take their own lives...
they often think they are teaching someone a lesson.

& after that lesson is over...

they will come back...to a better world.

Hey...maybe young Katelyn will find a better place...maybe she will find the peace in death and afterlife she could not find in this life. Maybe.  But this is NOT the legacy you want to leave behind.

The mess she has left behind...

It's heartbreaking.

All I can say is...

I can understand suicide.  I totally understand wanting to shut those demons down forever.

To finally accept that god hates your guts...

& turn out the lights.

But PLEASE...

However you choose to go...

Do NOT film it for posterity.

Because THAT is the only selfish part of suicide.

If you cannot think of yourself...

please think of others.

But take my word for it...

LIFE- no matter how bad it is- is always better than hurting others.

Stay alive...even if you need to write dark grisly stuff like this to do it. 

Even if the only thing you can do is do a poo in your hand...

& show everybody like a big baby.

It's Freudian.

& babies...eventually...grow up.

They HAVE to.

The challenge can be irresistible, and the rewards??

Delicious.

Tap into your true self...the very core of your being...

plug in...

& let it go.

It's the shtiznae.