The sanity machine

Here's the object of my affections - The (mighty) Green Fetus. My friend believes that one should not get emotionally involved with any objects. As far as combating current materialism goes, I agree with him. However there are two objects that I just couldn't live without: My bike and my computer, Sonicfetus. I should probably add my legs to that list, but they go without saying, yah?


I was rather pleased at being able to tow 1/3 of my belongings 20km in peak hour. Rather pleased to be alive, to be precise.

The pure centre

Ever noticed how preoccupied a lot of people are about finding the centre of something? The heart of the city, the centre of controversy, the golden age of....whatever.

I think it's the same sort of thinking that leads to the false search for purity. What drives my mother to be obsessively clean. What drives Buddhists to achieve enlightenment. I once overheard a couple of backpackers commenting on a rainforest walk at Cape Tribulation: "the forest, it's just so pure...". Okay, so I shouldn't demolish an aesthetic reason to love the bush, but purity and the bush doesn't sit right with me. The bush is the most dirty cauldron I can think of. Particularly rainforests, with their massive biodiversity.

Later, after returning to Melbourne, I heard this: "I wouldn't worry about the bushfires, it just cleans up the bush...". I only thought of a good retort later, as is always the case with good retorts. "That's like saying world war II was good for cleaning humanity." Depends on your point of view, I guess, but at least those of us who care know that two major fire events in 3 years is not healthy.

Oh well, at least those humans attracted to the idea get their fix of bush purity. Not that they'll visit it of course, it's far easier to pontificate from afar.

I'm not sure where this drive comes from -- perhaps part of the origin question, perhaps natural reductionism. My head doesn't spit out a clear trend on this one...

My people

Once again New Year's was spent in the outdoors. A pretty hard hike, complete with water shortage in the northern wilson's promontory area. Getting scratched to pieces by gnarly, tough coastal lowland scrub.

It's traditional to reflect on something at this time of year -- and the thing most on my mind are my happy contradictions.

1. I always find my people in places of few people. You never meet retards or bogans in real wilderness. It seems to relax and bond everybody who dareth enter. It's like a giant distributed dinner party, where you are all friends to begin with instead of on 'cunt filter' in the city.

Speaking of which, I should probably relax my cunt filter a bit now that I'm back in Melbourne. It's getting a bit worrying that I have somewhat forgotten how to do the usual charm tap-dance, and don't get driven to leave the house and meet people. My only pangs consist of meeting random thinking persons and listening to some interesting spoken word audio files I have on my computer, but this is still in extreme nerd range. Maybe next millennium...

2. Techo self vs. Primal self. I still identify as a physicist, and as such love my gadgets, technology, information -- but this does not reconcile well with my back-to-nature impulses. Podcasts in the outdoors are heaven. But these frontiers are irreconcilable, at least in this paradigm of civilisation. It confuses me, but I live with it. That's why I'm moving to mighty Tasmania.

3. Morality. For all my moralizing, I end up in ruts. I righteously sit at home on my computer, and tell myself that it's because the world isn't quite ready for me yet. I simultaneously envy and despise people able to just talk shit. Is shit-talking some form of advanced philosophy -- to just let everything go and not worry about the bigger picture? I envy people who are stupid enough not to know the limits of their ability, get tied up in knots failing, but gain a good anecdote afterward. My somewhat overactive brain only does things like that virtually, dismissing the stupid idea for whatever reason, but I get no anecdote!

The key to happiness? Here it is folks...
Convincing yourself that everyone else isn't always having a better time than you. Oh, and hugging trees.

Wishing considered happiness your way just for this year.

More bush-worshipping...

Yes, I actually hug a tree whenever I can.
Yes, I make sure the coast is clear before wrapping my arms around the trunk!

The loudness of evening crickets,
Though not so loud as the deafening traffic.

The white glow of the half-moon,
Though not so bright as the hospital-like streetlights.

The crackling of bark, rough beneath my feet,
Though not so annoying as tiptoeing around broken glass.

The white noise of the cascading stream,
Though not so brooding as the city's low hum.

The lime-gree strobing of the firefly,
Though not so dense as the surburban night skyline.

Being alone in the bush --
Nothing like being alone in the city.

Intelligent Design and the Prostate

Robyn Williams, a famous radio presenter on Australia's ABC Radio National, quipped that the unfortunate location of the prostate is evidence that there's no designer behind the human race...

...but I think the location of the prostate is a wonderful thing. It denies the intolerant, small-minded and artless men the greatest pleasure there is; it weeds out lazy, selfish and equally small-minded women; and it serves as a profound measure of trust between passionate lovers.

I say, use this unique, flexible organ more often in your sex repertoire. It will reveal the quality of your relationship immeadiately!

Viva la prostate orgasm!

Why my life is good, and how the bush fights modern absurdities

This is what I wake up to, hiding in my patch of jungle in Airlie Beach.

The sound of wilderness. The mighty black cockatoo with its ooh-aah, lonely, rusty gate call, the loud shreiking of the sulphur crested cockatoo, the feeding frenzy noise of the lorikeets. The once despised but now comforting laugh of the kookaburra. This is my alarm clock, these sounds tell me the weather without my having to look, these sounds fill me with peace.

All for "free". Only 50 metres from the main road. In a tiny patch of virgin rainforest between the parks office and Fantasea mass-tour operators. It's not paradise, but it's sure as hell more sensible than being a tiny, tiny little non-entity in the "market". I write in my little tent when it's raining. I look both ways and disappear into the bush with my bike. I respect the bush for what it provides. I am free.

Truth/Happiness

If I was more interested in happiness than the truth, I would have started believing in god a long time ago...

www.venganza.org