Auschwitz stories

29 04 2010

I’m a bit low today, I went to sleep late and got up very late, after midday. I think winter comes and makes things worse, I don’t thrive in the cold.

I began thinking of ghosts.

Now I’m a fairly logical person, I don’t believe in a lot of hocus pocus, although I went through my crystal wearing hippy phase years ago and dabbled with natural medicines which turned out to be worthless.

I’m an athiest.

However, all that said and got out the way, I’m not certain that ghosts aren’t real. I have met people who have shared ghost stories and swore they were real, perfectly sane and sober people who would not strike you as the kind who would have these kinds of stories tucked down deep inside of themselves.

When I was in hospital, I swore there were ghosts there, yes, perhaps it was the drugs. My bed was pushed from the end one night and on another night, my IV stand moved rocked slightly, as if it had been checked by a ghostly nurse.

If anywhere was haunted, It would have to be Auschwitz Concentration Camp, a truely terrible place, and I wondered what I’d do if I ever had the nerve to visit it. I’ve heard that many people who tried to go on the tour simply had to leave, Probably because the idea that one person could be so awful to another is a very bitter pill to swallow.

And then I thought about the kids, and if, tragically, their spirits remain in that place, what does one do for them, if anyone can do anything at all anyway.

It might sound silly, but I thought that I’d find somewhere quiet, out in the open, and sit, and read a story to the children, to the little, lonely spirits.

Perhaps in some way, it might start something, a healing perhaps.

Maybe it’s just a silly idea, bought on by how I’m feeling lately, and it’s true that there are living people who are suffering today.

But I thought I’d share this thought in my mind as I warm a chicken pie for myself.

That’s all.


The Politics of Porn, A Reply.

26 04 2010

What I’m about to write is about as open and honest as I can possibly be about my own personal feelings, but I hope that writing it can shatter some ice and hopefully allow people to feel more comfortable with the subject.

I was listening to “The politics of porn” on Radio National’s “Big Ideas” program, and it stirred me up, as what I was hearing from one guest speaker, Sheila Jeffreys, was Women this, Women that, Women, Women, Women… It’s interesting that a person who declares themselves an expert on pornography appears to believe that the only porn available must always have women in it, it doesn’t.

I do, openly confess, that I sometimes watch porn, and often when I do, a woman is not involved, that’s right, I usually watch gay porn. Surprisingly perhaps, I don’t dislike women, and I don’t consider myself gay.

But my sexuality is rather odd, I’ve never stuck a convenient label on myself, mostly because I cannot find one that fits. Rather than declare myself one of the three major sexualities (and there are others), Without telling myself that I must like X or Y due to cultural, peer, family expectations or even my own private decisions, I prefer to make up my mind on the spot. It’s rather like browsing a cafe for some lunch and finding something that you wouldn’t normally eat looks appealing.

With porn, I feel that women very often get in the way of something that looks quite nice, often the man himself.
Women tend to over-play their part, the mock screams of pleasure just get on my nerves and are a complete turn off.

I had wondered if it’s because of the way I was bought up.

In the 70’s it was not unusual to see calendars of semi-naked women, I may have been around twelve at the time, and I remember wondering why we always saw naked women but never naked men, to me it was strange. I suppose I always believed in a fair go for everyone.

Once I was online, I finally did see Men posing naked, and wished I could have done it myself… I didn’t see it as exploitation, but rather, liberation. Let’s be honest, many men love their bodies, but due to cultural factors, it’s not something that is allowed to be documented, though digital photography has helped to put a few holes in that wall.

Thanks to the internet, Men have finally had a chance to show themselves off, does it matter if the viewer is straight or gay? being appreciated is always a good thing.

It was always the prudes who made me feel guilty about my body, the porn made me feel a lot more comfortable with myself, and I found that I was able to be more open when I spoke about sex.

I dislike the view that you can have an almost completely nude woman, but you must hide the nipples, what idiocy decided that? To me, a nipple is just another part of the body, no worse than the nose, ear lobe, or little toe, and we all have them anyway, I don’t understand the fuss.

Should you go to see a bodybuilding contest, you’ll see men showing off almost every part of their carefully crafted bodies. A bodybuilder puts a lot of work into his body and wants to show it off. but then wears a tiny amount of cloth to cover his genitals, I find that funny.

A bodybuilding contest reminds me of cattle breeders showing off their big stud bulls… are the bulls worried that they’re naked? of course not. I think Bodybuilders should liberate themselves and toss away that silly bit of fabric.

I think it might be partly because the penis can be one of the most honest parts of the body that we cover them up (yes we also need protection as evolution screwed up and forgot to give us fur). let me explain… You go to Aunt Ellas place, you love her dearly, but she’s an awful cook. She offers you a cake “mmm this is good Aunt, Lovely!” and as she turns, you slip it to her dog, who is rather fat. a penis, however, will only stand up when it’s owner is genuinely excited, it’s something that can’t be faked.

I mentioned the bulls earlier, Animals are extremely sexy, people tend to ignore that due to cultural reasons, there is an implication of bestiality. but then, is the car you dream of named after a powerful creature? Do you wish you were hung like a horse, built like a bull, a tiger in bed? Be honest now.

The fatal flaw in the story of Beauty and The Beast was that in the end, the prince becomes nothing more than an ordinary bloke, a wealthy prince, yes, but an ordinary bloke, what a shame.

Then there was the TV show in the 80’s, with Vincent who was this amazing lion man who lived below the city, the writers never let Cathrine and Vincent get intimate because you couldn’t have something like that on TV because it would upset too many fragile viewers… pretty sad really.

You may have heard of Furries, if not, let me explain, Furries are people who, in the most basic terms, like to portray themselves as their inner-animal, as I do. Furries express themselves mainly through art, whether that’s drawing, painting, music or dressing up in fursuits (Like footy mascots).

It is not, as some have led people to believe, a sexuality or a fetish, anymore than say, being interested in cricket would make you a catholic.

However, furries like sex just as much as anyone else, and so that element is often expressed in their art.

Who draws furry art? Almost anyone who can hold a pencil steady, raw beginners to fully fledged professional animation artists. and when it is in the form of porn, who is exploited?

These are drawings, fantasies, there are no people involved at all, though the characters can be male or female, and sometimes both at the same time… I wonder what Sheila Jeffreys thinks of this?

Furry art, whether it’s g-rated or x-rated is freely drawn by almost anyone who has the talent to draw it, and then it is scanned and uploaded to furry websites like Fur Affitnity, where I also have an artists website.

You cannot see furry porn on Fur Affinity unless you sign in and then elect to see the artwork via your personal settings, it’s not something your kids will accidentally come across.

Anyway, with what I’ve written, I hope you see my angle, is porn, as Sheila Jeffreys says, about violence against women? even when there are no women in this type of porn at all?

I would like some thoughts on this, and if you have any questions please ask.

The Politics of Porn
Fur Affinity


Hey Hey it’s Ageism

15 04 2010

Many of last nights negative responses seemed to be about how old Daryl and the rest of the cast were, and to me, this seems like hypocrisy. Apparently to many, the Blackface skit (performed by a group of Indians) was intolerable, yet it’s apparently fine to make a laughing stock of people over forty?.


Wolfie vs that nitwit, Sarah.

14 04 2010

I’m here to address the suggestion that Science is a lot of “Snake Oil”.


Rankin Live

11 04 2010

Lost connection

5 04 2010

Sadly, my fling with mobile phones has ended, not because I have lost or broken my iphone, but simply because I cannot afford to keep one running… in other words, I bought the car but can’t afford the fuel.

For a while, I thought the mobile would be useful, I bought a sim card and was told I had quite a few megabytes on my plan, I’m not a talker or texter, I use data. So I’m having fun with that, using Gowalla, posting the very odd photo… most can wait till I’m back home on wi-fi. Then one day it stops working, even though I’m paying… and after five days of this, and trying all the tricks suggested by friends and Apple, I phoned Optus and found I’d apparently used up all my megabytes, Well I’m sorry but I don’t believe you. I’m an internet veteran and I know what it feels like to use that much, and I hadn’t, so I’m a bit fed up and that’s another reason I’m getting rid of it.

Making money to keep myself going is something I’ve failed at, for a while I thought there might be some hope.

After training at a radio school in South Melbourne, I went to a public station in Melton, 3 RIM FM, and spent three years there, I loved radio, it was my creative outlet, I was very passionate about it.

There was some chat going around that people had been hiring announcers from there to work at commercial stations, I’m not surprised, people there put a lot of effort into what they produced. The rumour was that I was being watched, but this was during my final year there, that is when I began to lose my health.

After this, I was either studying or doing volunteer jobs, I never complained about working for nothing,
I needed to feel like I was doing some good, and that was always very important to me, it still is.

After the cancer was discovered, I was put on a disability pension.

I have enough to keep myself fed and clothed, enough to feed Katie and Vicky, but the house is literally falling to bits.

There’s a cork tile floor in my kitchen, some tiles have cracked and others have lifted and others are missing, the floor is so badly broken that I cannot clean it, The bathroom is kaput, much of the wooden fittings are rotting and the shower is visited by slugs and millipedes.

The concrete floor has sunk in the kitchen and my bedroom, if you put a ball on the floor, it rolls into the corner.

To fix the house, if it can be fixed, would take thousands of dollars which I simply cannot afford.

The house is not insured at all.

I hoped that the internet might lead to something which brings in some money, but it never did, though I never really expected it to, I mainly did it to form friendships with people and that is something that I’m good at.

Yes, I did buy a macbook and iphone, these items do keep me in touch with others, so there is a practical reason for having them, the internet keeps me sane.

I feel bitter about the phone, as in, the landline. once it was an item that we had to have, but now it’s that thing that sits there, hardly used, and demands $90 quarterly when I may only make five phonecalls in that time. I detest it, and as soon as there’s a true
wireless internet that internode can provide, the phone cable gets the snip.

People seem to like what I do, and see me as useful in many ways and that makes me happy, but not having a dollar value to go with it, makes for a very difficult life.


Woods Way

3 04 2010

This is a dream I had last night.

There were a line of people who were between two freight trains, stopped at a station, their carriages covered by what could have been tarp. and I was in the middle of the line of people. The people were pushing forward, but I noticed that as we walked, the trains converged until the people at the front of the line became stuck and squashed.

Obviously this was no good at all.

The trains seemed to be made of a soft rubber, like those stress balls which squash up easily. and their covers were of some soft material. To paraphrase Yazz and the Plastic Population, “The only way is up” and so, I gripped the material and pulled myself up to the top of the carriage.

There were a handful of others up there, and there was this massive tree, with thick, sparse branches, but no leaves.
The tree reached all the way up to the sky and people were climbing up, but every one of us was having trouble, including myself, as there was nowhere to get a good foothold, or handhold either.

Once we relaxed and thought about it, we found that there was a village under the tree, which was pretty big, the trains had somehow vanished.

We entered the town, and I met a man who was some big Hollywood type, extremely friendly, and trying to compare him with someone, I’d say Chris in the Morning, from Northern Exposure (The Priest/DJ). He had the same soft voice.

He had a set he’d built which looked like an underground hangout for a gang of teenage boys, there was graffiti on the walls, and places where water dripped… the dripping water had some sort of meaning, but I forget what, it was something bad.

We chatted for ages, He, Myself and some other fellow, who seemed around eighteen… I felt about the same age too.
I remember Simon Townsend coming up in the conversation, and this guy said that he knew Simon well, and said that He’s really nice, He lives in Nebraska now… And he handed us a couple of cards with Simons contact details on them, He suggested that we write to Simon if we wanted to.

The village under the tree was rather ramshackal, it sort of looked like very uneven homes that were stuck in a huge woodpile, but it was very clean, deliberate.

We began to discover that although there was nobody there, that the homes and buildings were loaded with goods, and practically every item that you could imagine.

The room I was in was like something from Harry Potter, items stacked in wooden cabinets, jewlery, knick-knacks, strings, ropes, buttons, clothing, keys, toys… I cannot really remember individual items, but what I saw was this huge pile of good looking items (not junk) draped all over these sort of open wooden drawers.

Others had found places which had food, and there was a gym with ropes from the floor to the ceiling.

Then I found my Dog, Benny, The Malamute I had before Katie, and as we stood under the huge tree, we realised that not only did we have to climb the tree to get out of there, that we also had to somehow bring Benny with us.

But the village was full of everything we needed, we just had to spend the time, reading, thinking, trying things out, inventing.

In the end, it would be what we learnt on the ground which would take us to the portal, which we saw right at the top of one of the trees branches.


(Would this make a good tv series or what?)