Wisdom Norman

If you dish out wisdom, but don't follow it yourself...you're a little bit disingenuous.

There aren't many things worse than people who do that.

It's like saying, "here, eat this.

I'm not gonna' eat that crap...

but you eat it.  It's all yours"

WTF is that?

It's easy to tell others how to live, what to do...

But if yr not living and doing it yrself?

Then better to keep yr trap shut.

I call it being a 'Wisdom Norman'.

I do it myself; say all sorts of stuff about how one should live, what to do, blah blah blah-de-blah...like some self ordained guru.

But then I forget to do the things myself.

I have to go back and read my stuff again.

(& that's not conceited or arrogant either, because it's not like it's mine. nothing new or profound in it.  it's usually just my way of saying what we would call collective wisdom. re-heating the wisdom of the ages. same stuff, different voice. there is nothing i discover in my navel gazing that some other navel gazer has not already found out before me.) 

So I go back and remind myself to try my own stuff, before I offer it to others.

Then it might be a bit more palatable.

I think if we all did that...

Things would be fine.

Senses of Perception...& Vice Versa.

Case in point regarding the melding of the senses; I just told someone I was 'listening' to their post, when quite obviously I was reading/looking at it.

And yet it felt appropriate & justified to me. 

Science might not agree with everything I perceive, and the way I perceive it...but my soul does.

This might make me nuts...but luckily that is about perception as well.

The Eye of the Beholder.

You see the world the way you want to, & I will do the same.

We might not reach a common truth...but there is a good chance we will find out own.

And in the end...what ealse really matters??

On the Way Out...

There are plenty of bells and whistles when you 'have a new friend' on FB; why are there no drums, bugles & fireworks when you lose one? 

It can be just as much a cause celebre! 

(a lost friend always seems to be a back-door affair.)

Now an actual divorce is another matter entitrely.

I worked the family court at one time, and that felt like an air strike.

And in matters of custody, oftentimes NO ONE could hide from the fallout.

The meeting, and the leaving are so interesting to me.  

Some people, however, just seem to fade away.

What happens to them?

That is possibly the most fascinating of all...

Like a ghost story.

Little Nazi

I actually heard this today.

"Oh, I'm not racist; I'll buy clothes from any country. Indonesia, China, Bangladesh, India..."

And I heard it in my own head.

That's the voice I call my 'Little Nazi'.

Whenever I feel like giving the Germans shit for allowing Hitler to rise to power and take over, building factories to gas people...

I remind myself there is a little Nazi in all of us.

Even me.

He's like the Gollum.

A little troll, who likes to fuck things up.

Gremlin. Conqueror Worm. Trojan Horse.

The Ghost in the Machine.

The sad deny him.

The even sadder let him loose, unrestrained & let him have his mischievous way.

The sensible remember that Little Nazi inside us all...

And we work around him.

And we hope and pray that when the chips are down, and times get tough...

REALLY get tough...I mean no food, no money, zombies, vampires & cannibals wandering the wasteland...

We pray he doesn't get out.

And show us not only what we have lurking in the dark corners of our soul...

But who we REALLY are.

Checking yourself.

For my FB friends:

I have a confession.

Rather a sleazy salacious one.

I use FB not only for entertainment and education, but for my personal development.

Socrates paraphrased Plato- or vice versa- that ‘the unexamined life is not worth living’.

I would not have known that if I was not online.

I also would not know things about- not only other people all over the world, from different walks of life, different race colour and creed- if I were not here most days…

Nor would I really know myself.

I come from rather sordid stock.

My father was a man who was very unwell, and over the years, he debased and destroyed our family.

Maybe people here already know this. And it is not an uncommon story.

But over time I found out that- left unchecked- I am much like my father.

I can be a selfish prick. And a brute.

I’m sure many men can; but this is not about them.

It is about me.

I post here, often, about myself.

Self indulgence?

Maybe. But I hope a good kind. Because you do not want the unaccountable me.

As they used to say in the force, 'in need of constant supervision'.

In a flippant, ironic way.

If you knew me- you would know this is not so ironic.

I DO need to keep an eye on my self.

To ensure I do not express myself my Father did-

& the way I know I am capable of.

I don't want to end up alone, and unloved, unwanted like him, a victim of his own illness.

I check myself each day- what I am feeling, thinking- keeping an eye open for any personality flaws that might express themselves here or in the real world- flaws that might hurt others...

& I extinguish them, by exposing them.

Writing about them.

Talking about them.

One day at a time.

Like a kind of AA.

I examine my life, and how I deal with others…

Because you don’t want the other version of me.

The unchecked.

The untethered bad seed, wandering off into the world, oblivious to his behaviour.

It is not a pretty sight.

So I keep an eye on myself; & I post it here, honestly.

It keeps me accountable to my fellow man.

And it helps me.

Trust me, it helps me.

YOU help me.

I don’t need therapy.

I rely on the traditional methods of healing.

Like community.

Other people.  Like they used to in the old days, before we drifted apart, and became ALIENS.

So…for those friends here who come calling every so often to see what condition my condition is in…I thank you.

A better ME, is a better world.

You can trust me on this.

I my regimen of self examination does not piss you off.

If it does- you know what to do.

But I would not want to lose any of you.

Which is why I wanted to clarify this, for those who might not know.

I hope this treatise eases your doubts about what might to the uninformed seem like self indulgence & ego masturbation.

I would pray in some way it might encourage others to ‘take advantage’ of this wonderful opportunity afforded to us by this technology…

And do the same, if you feel you fall short.

‘The price of liberty is eternal vigilance’.

& if we are not going to be vigilant of ourselves…and our liberty…

Our personal accountability & responsibility…

then Big Brother will.

And that will NOT be as pretty as our little posts on FB.

Peace…

JWA

My Brush With Anti Semitism...

I think I have just had my first encounter with anti-Semitism.

I say I think for a number of reasons. 

You see…I have simply never seen it in action.

In the movies, sure- but not here.  Not in my lifetime.

Being a white bread Australian- and not given to keeping people separate into categories according to their race, colour or creed- unless someone is wearing as yarmulke, or has a surname ending in Stein or Bloom or is Woody Allen, I wouldn’t even know a person was Jewish.

I am like a child in this regard.

People think I am kidding; but I am THE SAME WAY with people I was as a child.

And I’m not sure that is such a bad thing.

To me, they were- and still are- just the one species.

Human beings.

I didn’t divide them up into groupings.

I noticed moderate differences in colour, shape, size, accent- all to me VERY minor- but we all did BASICALLY the same things.

Laughed, cried, eat, slept, and went to the toilet.

The girls had Giny’s- the boy’s willies.

As I got older, I noticed little variations in lifestyle choices- sometimes boys wanted to be girls and cut off their willies to do so…

But for the most part, I saw mainly our similarities.

Not our differences.

It is OTHER PEOPLE who seemed to dwell on the differences.

And I noticed they wanted me to.

It is like this obsession with differences made them lonely- & they wanted to find like-minded friends.

But I resisted.      

It simply didn’t matter to me.

Even when I was a cop- people boiled down into ‘Good’ & ‘Bad’; or rather- those who broke the law, and those who did not.

Not ‘darkies’, or ‘whites’. ‘chinks’, or ‘wops’. I mean, WTF? 

I simply never could get my mind around it.

Apartheid.

Christ.

To them- it was a fucking SCIENCE!

I mean really; when it comes down to the minutiae of racial differentiation…

How can one tell who is what?

In the heat of feverish hate…who can tell Hutu’s from Tutsi? Or Tutu’s from Hutsi’s?

What’s in a name?

What’s in a race???

I just don’t get it.

HOW do you tell- let alone WHY??

Watching ‘Europa Europa’ recently, & in particular the scene where the doctor after careful cranial measurement of the young Jewish infiltrator into the Hitler Youth so proudly declares him to be a fine example of pure Aryan breeding- I remember wondering ‘how on earth could they ever tell who was a Jew who wasn’t?

If this guy couldn’t?

I know there is some business about whether you are circumcised or not- but what of the women?

And…AGAIN…what the hell does this matter??

However- I CAN tell a RACIST.

And I can NOW tell a Jew Hater.

I might not be able to tell a Jew...but I CAN tell an anti-Semite.

Maybe we should ALL meet such a racist. At least once.

Rather than tsk'ing and oozing aaahs as we watch ‘Schindlers List’…sitting in righteous indignation…

Maybe we should ALL get a taste of what it is like to meet a true hater.

That BURN. That sick BURN the experience leaves you with.

Experience it- load it into the sense memory…

& then MOVE on.

Or at least…try to.

Because experiencing first hand racism…

Bigotry against ME for failing to see things HER way…

It changes you.

It has changed me.

A wake up call if you like.

A reminder that NOT ALL is right with the world.

Not everything is peace, love and light.

Hate still flourishes, no matter how much I might try to pretend it does not.   

MY JOB is to not allow it to flourish in me.

I am not racist- and not because I am especially morally pure.

It is a mere matter of convenience in this helter skelter modern world.

It always just seemed EASIER to divide people up into NICE…& not so nice.

Who has time for all that bigotry, Swastikas, Jackboots, cross burning, & lynch mobs?

An entire infrastructure built on hate, fear and loathing?

I always found my own survival a full time job without branching out into hatred.

The ONLY time I am aware of bigotry is when the papers or TV tell me to be.

Until now.

Last Friday. ‘Good’ Friday?

I met an Anti-Semite.

I was shocked.

Because it came from someone I have known for some time…and did not realise she was an anti-Semite.

No idea.

So I say I THINK I did…because it has taken me a few hours…DAYS- to come to terms with the fact that I was friends with a closet Jew Hater. 

It’s like that stunned silence; ‘did she really say what I thought she said??’

And ‘what else don’t I know about my friends and their secrets?’

It’s not like I have never came up against HATE before.

10 years as a cop, I encountered my fair share. But in the force, there is much to hate.

You wear a uniform and a badge- yr pretty much asking for it.

So you pay your money- you takes your choice.

As a youth, I was hated & beaten by my Father- but I don’t think that is all that uncommon.

Half the planet is an abused child.

I doubt it is the preferred archetypal paternal model.

But I have NEVER been hated for the colour of my skin, my religion, or my sexual orientation. 

Or maybe I have been; I just never heard about it.

Hate me by all means…I don’t want to know about it.

Hell, I have hated; but not according to skin or race.

It usually has something to do with the object of my hate being a bastard.

A prick.  Or a dickhead. 

Never racial. 

If I DO have some primal fear of other people from other tribes taking my food…we are not there yet.

Times are not QUITE so desperate for this.

So…it just seems easier to live and let live- separating the good, the bad and the ugly spirited- rather than sequestering people according to their race, colour, creed, etc.

I mean- aside from everything else…

WHY?? 

I didn’t even know it still existed!

I could no more hate a Jewish person than I could a German.

Can you tell from my photos I have German Blood in me?

Aryan stock??

Why would you care?  I don’t!!!!

It doesn’t change my day one goddam iota!

Or how I treat people!

I would no more hate Jews than I would Germans!

For ANY reason! 

That would be hating me!!!

Ahhh…wait a second.

Maybe I have hit on something.   

Hating others as the deflection of hating oneself?

Hmm.

Speaking of dickheads…

I said I did not even know anti-Semitism still existed.

Perhaps it is just well hidden.

Or perhaps I have a short memory. 

On reflection, I thought of something that happened here in Melbourne a few years back, which I had included in a draft of a book I was working on about masculinity.

Excerpt as follows;

Take a posse of local football heroes on a footy trip.  Our brave boys attacked one Menachem Vorchheimer, a 33 year old Jewish man, who was walking with his children, aged three and six, along Balaclava Rd, Caulfield, wearing traditional Jewish dress, including a Shabbat hat, when men from the Ocean Grove Football Club who had been at the nearby Caulfield Guineas race meeting yelled taunts including "F... off Jews" and "Go the Nazis" from a mini bus.  Mr Vorchheimer approached the minibus when it stopped at a red light to find out whom the group represented.  When the lights changed, the bus moved off and two of the players grabbed his hats, the Shabbat and a yarmulke cap.  The bus stopped a short distance away and when Mr Vorchheimer went to retrieve his hat, he was pulled towards a window and punched. 

"The window was opening and they grabbed my hands and, before I knew it, there was a king-hit across the face ... It knocked me back quite a bit and the blood started gushing out of my face and I started feeling really sick. I could hear my kids screaming and crying in the background," Mr Vorchheimer said. 

"This is just not acceptable. Australian, Christian, Jewish, Muslim. Whoever you are, no-one should have to put up with this socially irresponsible behaviour." 

Such ill feeling toward the Jewish people and such adoration for the Nazi’s after all these years. 

I read this in the papers. Saw it on TV.

But this was not first hand.

These are not the kind of fellows I like to hang out with.

And yet, obviously racial hate can be found lurking anywhere.

And I would do well to REMEMBER this.


'Lest We Forget' indeed.


So…where does all this leave me?


What can I carry with me from this noxious, disturbing experience??

Am I left with an overwhelming urge to buddy up with any Jews?

Offer the olive branch of peace and reconciliation?

No.

That would be part Anglo Saxon part Aryan guilt.

And who really wants guilt?

And in any event…

I have heard it said that they are a very insular people- keep to themselves.

Based on the above scenario…who can blame them?

I like keeping to myself as well; not because I’m Jewish.

Because I find most people very unkind and intolerant.

Like my so-called 'friend'- who, incidentally, unfriended and blocked me.

A cowardly act indeed; but Cowardice is the underlying driving force behind all racism and bigotry.  Cowardice, hatred, and fear.

Fear of not being good enough; so they tear others down.

Gutless.

So what would the Jewish people want me to learn from this experience?

Given that I am not able to ask one right now here in this café in downtown country Victoria, Australia- even if I knew what one looked like-

I really cannot say for sure.

But I THINK they might want me to learn from the experience…

Immerse myself in the reality of this racial hatred…empathise...

And then LET IT GO.

But that is so hard.

To stop myself from hating her, for her hatred.

So why do I find it so hard to let it go?

Is it losing a friend? 

Finding out the truth about someone I thought I knew and trusted, and then losing her?

I know I don’t want someone like that back.

So why am I finding it hard to let it go?

And why am I allowing this feeling to infect the rest of my life?

I am not sure.

Maybe I should blog about it.

Maybe I HAVE ALREADY blogged about it, and forgotten.

Because LETTING GO is hard.

It is a life long struggle.

One day at a time…learning to LET GO of all the hate, fear, anger, disappointment.

Letting go is probably one of the toughest things we will ever have to learn to do in life.

But it is the only true authentic way to live.

Letting go of those things we are attached to- including our hate, our fear, and our desire to blame others for our own faults…

To let go and find peace in just being.

Letting go of our judgements on the way other people live…what they say…

And simply focusing on our choices.

Failure to do this is how hate is spread.

It is the allowance of hateful feelings to cause us to hate in turn…

Hate the hater.

And it spreads.

UNLESS WE LET IT GO.

I am willing to keep at it. 

I going to try to let go of her hate- and not allow it to become a part of my life.

I will acknowledge the experience as a learning curve.

I will not allow it to colour my view of other human beings.  

I will continue to take each person as they come, on a case by case basis.

According the kind of person they are.

Not their race.

And hope for the best.

I will continue to be on the lookout for racist friends…

And when the time comes…LET THEM AND THEIR HATEFUL IDEAS GO.

And then quickly move on.

Who’s with me??

The Good, the Bad & the Gutless.

Actions speak louder than words.

But cowardly actions SCREAM.

If we are to take back the power from the government and the corporations...

We need strong people, true people; people of moral fortitude.

I believe in peace, love & light...but that does not mean I will forget the importance of COURAGE.

OR those too gutless to follow through the promise of their words, with their actions.

If we cannot AT LEAST do that...

Then what are we???

Meaningless words, floating off into the ether??

Not this little black duck...   

NEVER

NEVER underestimate the power of a man's inability to attract a woman as being the driving force behind his misogyny.  

Many of us are confused, often completely contradictory creatures who would rather fall into a dichotomous absurdity than see something through to a better conclusion.

It has something to do with saving face...even though it destroys everything else.

Many of us have an extraordinary capacity for channeling our frustrations, our impotence in the direction of inappropriate- even deranged- pursuits.

This is why we like war so much.

Tall Poppy Cock

We have a thing in Australia known as the "Tall Poppy Syndrome".

I don't know if other countries have it- I assume some must- but I grew up and live in OZ, so I'll stick to my own back yard. 

And it is a back yard in DESPERATE need of a tip run.

"Tall Poppy Syndrome" is when someone has attained a certain level of fame, fortune or success that could be regarded as star spangled, meteoric...

and we have to run them down.

It's jealousy.

Think of it as a kind of Reverse Darwinism. 

Like it's not hard enough getting ahead...but once you ARE there...all these other bastards want to knock you off yr perch.

I never saw it in Amercia on a domestic level; but in terms of their foreign relations...the yanks simply bomb things they don't like to blossom.

We don't even have the BALLS to bomb anybody.

We just bitch about them like winey infants.

It's pathetic.

We can't quite do it...so woe betide those who can/do.

I say 'THEY'...

But I know I can't say that. 

I can't talk about our country- ANYONE'S country- like it's a single entitity.

It is faulty logic.  I'm supposed to be evolved.

I'm not talking about them...'those out there'...

I'm actually talking about ME.

Allow me to tidy up my own back yard first.

I am guilty of this practice of cutting down tall poppies.

Or, rather, TRYING TO.

I can't even criticise with any great aplomb 

But I still try, like an impotent clown who is too pathetic to get his dick hard. So I blame the weather. The booze. The lateness of the hour.  Or her.

Anything but me. 

I do it a lot.

Sometimes I don't even realise I'm doing it.

Let me give you an example.  I'll be reading the news or something, and there will be a story on some poor bastard who has finally made it to the top in the arts.

Say, and Aussie actor or something.

Now...all he/she has done is rise to the top of his/her profession- achieve international recognition- after what might well have been a lifetime of struggle.

This is his/her only crime. 

And because I have not achieved the same level of recognition...

What do I do?  I bitch about it. 

Well, I don't bitch out loud. 

I have evolved far enough along to keep my mouth shut.

Bite my tongue. 

Because I KNOW it is not what I want to be.

But I still THINK it.

It just pops in there, like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

Like a knee jerk reaction.

At least I admit it. 

And that is part of the way to resolving it, right??

So why do I do it if I don't like it?

I mentioned Darwin.  Is it in the blood? 

Woven into our DNA??

Maybe.  Doesn't mean we have to buy into it. 

Especially if we want to evolve.

Is it socialisation?  Also possible.   

It might be systemic.  A cultural thing.

My father was like it, too. 

Nothing and no one was good enough. 

And neither was I.

So I pass it down the line.

Well, I did.

No more.

I don't like it.

I want it gone.

So...from now on...I'm gonna' learn to be more gracious.

I am going to CONGRATULATE successful people.

All the actors, directors, artists, writers, poets, scientists, doctors...

WHATEVER.

People who go out there and MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE.

Rather than just talking about it.

Or worse still, bitching about those who do it.

I might one day be able to stand alongside these great people...

But then again, I most likely will not.

The odds are not in my favour.

WHO CARES?

I can keep trying...AND be gracious toward those who do reach their goal.

And my reward will be the satisfaction of being a nicer fellow.

Thankful for the beauty of these tall poppies.

Which we all get to enjoy.

I mean...is there really a lovelier flower in the world than a poppy??

AND THE TALLER THE BETTER!!

So...grow my beauties.

GROW...

WORDS

There's a lotta' noise these days about words. 

'He broke his word'! 

'She can't keep hers'!! 

It's all just words.

Sounds we make with our mouth...nothing more.

Chimps can do it.  We don't set our watch by them. 

Same goes for humans.

Words are just a rough guide.  A VERY rough guide.

Like the first draft of a script against the movie. 

Not even the first draft; the script NOTES.

My experience? 

Most of us get nervous if we go too long without flapping our gums. 

As long as we are jawin'...we don't have to worry about the quiet. 

'Cos if it's too quiet...we might see who we really are, what we really mean. 

And that might get us into hot water.

So we fill the air with words.

Most of the time...most people say things they don't really mean.

At least in my years on the planet. 

Now ACTIONS are a different kettle of fish. 

They 'aint even the same kettle.

'Aint even fish. 

ACTION is a whole new species.  A RARE species, at that. 

So...forget the words; they are just a rough draft...a working guide to who we MIGHT want to be in the future. 

Dismiss the words...and you will never be disappointed.

Even these ones.

Carve them onto a stone tablet...& people will mess them up forever.

Let words go.

You want to be really upset...save it for the actions. 

Most of THEM don't hold up either.

But they DO define us.  Good & bad.  (whatever that means) 

If you find someone whose actions you can rely upon, hold onto that person.

And if their actions reflect their words...

Damn. You better hog tie 'em down and put 'em in a glass cabinet.

Get a photo. 

Call the papers. 

These people are WORTH making a noise about...

Worth words.

"Men this, men that..."

So much talk about men. 

"Men this, men that...

Men do this, but don't do that...

Well enough, hard enough, caring enough or consistent enough..

Touch this!  Push that!  Rub me there...NO NO, the wrong way, you clumsy boorish oaf!

Too much too soon, too short too fat...Too distant..."

Too much talk, perhaps?? 

Not enough COMMUNICATION??

Aside from from doing our egos the world of good being the centre of attention (remember what the famous macho hero poet and sheet metal worker Oscar Wilde was overheard to have said about there being 'only one thing worse than being talked about, & that is NOT being talked about'...), I wonder at all this chatter and noise about who we are and what we should be doing...

Perhaps we are actually SIMPLER than all that hullabaloo would suggest. 

Are we really not a little light in the load to have developed such an all-encompassing gender specific socio-cultural idiom???

Now women, on the other hand...!