I Prayed For Guidance

And then that darned ‘ol God told me to do something different from what I wanted to do. Talk about annoyed. I mean, what’s the point of having a God if they’re going to boss you around…

So I switched gods. The second one I chose allowed the thing I wanted to do – indeed made it into a virtue instead of a vice. And then snuck up on me and hit me with dietary laws that meant I couldn’t cook my favourite recipes. Not only that, I had to not eat all day for a month. Not even a chocolate bar.

So I decided to ditch the Almighties and find a guru, sage, or wise man  ( or wise woman ) to tell me that I could do whatever I wanted to do without guilt. Took a bit of shopping but I got the combination I wanted. And then the bill hit me – it turned out the guru’s idea of tithes was my pocket open all the time to pay for his Rolls Royces.

So I’m back on my own again. My People have rejected me and they talked to Everyone Else and they’re not having a bar of me either. I’m either going to have to become an atheist or start my own religion. Neither idea seems really appealing as they would both require a good deal of thinking. And you never can tell where that might lead to – like as not I would be forbidding myself from things. And then where would I be when it came to being happy?

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Do You Go To Church?

…asked the Muslim social worker of the old Jew in his living room, as she filled out a form for aged care assistance…

Really one of the oddest exchanges that I have had recently. The form seems to have the logo and imprimatur of the Australian federal government in a special department for the aged, and a logo from another organization that may offer help. In this case the help they offered seems to be a booklet and a note that my goal is to get my injured leg back to good health.

From the church question, I am assuming it is a pious hope…

As no more was done all week, at my latest visit to the physician, he short circuited the whole departmental rigmarole by ringing up the local chemist to see if they sold pressure bandages. They did, I called in and bought one, and pulled it on myself. We’ll be checking in a week to see that healing is progressing.

In the meantime I will keep my phone on and my ears open for the assistance that the bureaucratic department will offer. But I shall not hold my breath. Nor expend it singing hymns, for that matter…

When You Have To Be Honest…

When you have to be honest about some particular thing, you might just as well surrender yourself to the whole vile experience and be honest about everything. You’ll be cleaning up a damned mess, of course, but the thing won’t be any different than if you just told a little bit of the truth and clammed up about the other things you know.

Not that honesty is required all the time, mind. If you are dealing with magistrates and police officers and coroners and such you’ll have to be completely truthful, of course. Likewise you are going to want to be open and forthright with your physician, dentist, optometrist, etc – otherwise your own body will betray you. But there are other places in society where you can get a rest from being honest:

a. Facebook. No-one really expects to see a 100% honest day on Facebook. There are so many political, religious, and social memes out there just waiting for shares, and most of them are either too good to be true or too true to be good – the former ones outnumber the latter…

b. Instagram. You are encouraged to make things look better than they really are to attract the interest of people who want to attract your interest with their visual lies. Fortunately it makes a nice change from Pokemon and people are less likely to step into traffic while looking at Instagram. Unless it makes them really depressed.

c. The pub. Well, if you can’t tell lies in a place that serves diluted alcohol, what’s the point of going there?

d. Political rallies. Whichever side you are on and whomever you are against, you are never expected to be unbiased and fair at a political rally. You are there to root for your side and howl the rest down. You are often allowed to hold up offensive signs. You are never required to dress well. You are permitted to espouse the foulest creeds and howl the vilest insults. If it had nap time, it would be like kindergarten.

e. Religious meetings. You are required to be honest to God and honest to yourself, but everyone else there can be played like a harmonica. Profess anything that they want you to profess and damn anything that they demand you to damn. Recite creeds, prayers, anthems, and shopping lists if that is the custom of the place. Bob, weave, dance, sing, and perform any gestures that seem to be required.

It’ll all be the same thing. Would I lie to you?

 

 

 

 

It’s Like Funny In The Bank

If you can tell a joke that no-one expects, you can sell it for more money than they’d normally pay.

I know – I do this daily. Not here – you get this stuff for the price of the electricity to open your computer – but over on the column I write for the Perth camera store. They pay me to stay away from the place and write good things about stock and events they sell. If I ever stop writing they’ll just pay me to stay away…

Every daily post contains a product or service that is being touted – and I do so on a fair and honest basis – but every post equally contains one unexpected yock. Mostly I make fun of myself, as being the safest target. Of course, if I suspiciously look and sound like someone else and it puts the readers in mind of another figure in the photo trade…well that must just be a trick of the light. So far no rocks through the editorial window – from either inside or outside.

Some trades would be notoriously difficult to write humorous pieces for. I should not attempt the funeral trade, nor any crisis service or legal business.  I did poke fun at dentistry while I was a dentist, but have left it alone since retiring. This way I cannot be accused of dated humour.

Likewise, some topics bear little laughter from outside the fold – religions and political movements are a good example. People involved deeply in any of those fields are not inclined to laugh at themselves nor at anyone else. Laughter invites relaxation and friendliness and few religious or political figures want to be tainted with that sort of accusation.

As for writing jokes for other people to present…well, bring it on. But be warned that if I am going to get other people to laugh with you, I will also be providing them with an opportunity to laugh at you. Are you stalwart enough to join with them on both occasions?

Do It Yourself Blasphemy Kit

I have often wondered if you could make a decent income selling a do-it-yourself blasphemy kit by mail order. I’m not entirely sure what would be included in the box – because let’s face it – there so many different gods that seem to be able to take offence – but I am sure there will be people in various religious organisations who can advise me.

I am prepared to accept the fact that it will be a difficult product to sell in certain markets. Saudi Arabia for one…Arkansas for another. Ireland seems to have laws against it, though I suspect that they are only concerned that it may affect the quality of the Guinness. If that is actually the case I would be loathe to risk it there.

I am uncertain about another aspect of the business; why an omniscient and omnipotent being should need protection from something as frail as a human voice or pen. Indeed, why does the Divinity ( of whatever stripe ) not strike the blasphemer dead with lightning, or volcanos, or goldfish…instead of relying upon priests, mullahs, rabbis, and Irish courts to do the punishment? A good public lightninging would do more for public relations than a cartload of writs.

Of course it has been pointed put that anti-blasphemy laws are really there to prevent distress to humans who don’t want their invisible friend in the sky sneered at. In that they are kind, but I am wondering if they would be as kind to believers of different religions – protecting their invisible friends as well. I suspect not, given that the adherents of one friend generally try to slaughter the adherents of another friend, and frequently succeed. The invisible friends never seem to step in to prevent it…one wonders whether or not they actually enjoy seeing it take place. Is there a rather cruel reality show taking place on Divine Television Network and the contestants are winning coffins…?

I must investigate the business of blasphemy kits further – selling them may be a simple as mailing out religious texts…

The Plebiscite On Sane Sex Marriage

cake

The Australian federal government is currently formulating a formulaic formula to propose a law to institute a non-binding poll of the population to see if they want to have a say in whether or not someone will then make a law that allows a current law to be altered so that people who have the same twiddley bits can have equal property rights in a shared home. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp.

I don’t have a lineup of the teams but I’d be willing to bet the Catholic church is in there somewhere, as well as the St. Georges Terrace lawyers, the leftover communists at the university, and the Real Estate Institute of Western Australia. I don’t really think that REIWA has any opinion one way or the other on a moral basis, but if it involves property they want to be in there with a spoon.

I am delighted that we are going to the polls again, as every time we have done so in the past the local Parents & Citizens organisation has put on a baked goods sale at the local school – the polling booth – and the flakey lemon slice is worth putting up with any amount of politics. For myself, I hardly feel that I could dictate anyone else’s tastes in soup, let alone sex, and will therefore leave everyone to their own devices. I’m less pleased to realise that the government will pork barrel out $ 160,000,000  of public money to do this. I should be interested to see who the money will go to.

In an effort to get more of the home-made biscuits and slices, I am going to propose that we have regular plebiscites. Once the same-sex marriage one is done I want one on sane-sex marriage. The imposition of religious and governmental control on exactly what you are allowed to do to whom and when. I want rigid rules. Rigid pulsating rules. I want to see them applied. If necessary I am prepared to send away to Canberra for the DVDs of the rigid rules being applied…

Whoops, that was a little random. Let me just mop up a bit with a paper towel and we’ll carry on.

Sane sex is good sex. Sane sex never becomes unruly. Sane sex never spends $ 300 on fancy drinks at the casino on the off-chance of a grope. Sane sex never sits through a movie marathon until 3:00 AM. Sane sex never listens to how much the ex isn’t right. Sane sex goes to bed at 10:00 in sensible pyjamas. Alone, if necessary.

Sane sex needs no internet connection…indeed sane sex doesn’t need washable surfaces, mysterious parcels, or passwords. Sane sex doesn’t leave the lights on, the blinds open, and a set of deck chairs on the front lawn for the spectators. Sane sex does not require batteries…or if it does, they generally do not need to be re-chargeable.

Sane sex has been described as beige. Or Belge. Or bulge.

As I wrote, I will be looking forward to going to the polls to decide where everyone else can put their poles. It is not prurience – it is out of sincere respect for vanilla slice and lamingtons. You can achieve a great deal of sexual morality with desiccated coconut.

 

The Guild Guide To Making A Meme

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And we should have added – to making a meme memorable.

Lately the Guild Facebook account has been flooded with memes that have a political or religious connection. While there are still kittens and pandas, they are losing out in people’s reaction to the news – and a new trend in meming is appearing: the earnest statement that ends in a flippant insult. It is a sad waste of opportunity  – it never persuades and it rarely insults.

An example; recently a meme appeared with the map of Australia on it  – always a good way to present an idea if you are aiming it at the Down Under market – and made a series of statements that expressed kindly support for Muslim people. It urged those of other faiths to treat them fairly. It was a reasonable and responsible document until you got to the last line…where it said that if you did not agree you were an ignorant racist arsehole. Exact wording.

Not good. That last line reduced the document to the level of statements made by just the sort of unpleasant people it excoriated. As the meme invited people to agree and share – and a surprising number of them did so in a click – they all identified themselves with the language. Think about it…you may be tarred with a brush, but you do not have to wield it yourself, nor do you need to apply an undercoat and two finishing layers…

A better way is to say what you mean to say openly, and fairly and politely. Say it with correct spelling and punctuation as good as you can manage. By all means include a visual that takes the attention, but it should not be a derogatory image or photoshopped screen grab. Whatever you mean to say will be demeaned by these means, if you know what I mean. Don’t be mean.

And don’t just click agreement if you have something to say. Say it yourself. Say it in your own words. Use your mind, not your finger.

Save insults for when they can do the most good. The formal dinner – the private consultation in the club boardroom – the bedroom. If you succeed you will be successful and if you fail you will be spared the indignity of failing in public.