Is it possible to fail – at being human?

 

You can fail a math’s test. You can fail to acquire an internship position. You can fail to successfully complete a project to adequate standards. But is it possible to fail at being a living, breathing human being?

What makes a human being who they are? Okay, would you consider a person born with a head and a torso, but no legs and no arms a human? They can do everything a human can, with the exception of using the appendages that they do not have. Is this specific person a human? Yes, in my opinion; this shows that physicality does not alter one’s humanity.

That would leave the psychology of humanity.

Tell me, when you see on the news acts of intense violence; unspeakable slaughter and genocidal actions; civil and international war; unspeakably heinous evil; the people who are involved in instigating these actions, do you think ‘this is not what humans are meant to do – they are absolutely terrible at being human’, or do you think ‘that is what humans are supposed to do, and therefore, my inability to commit such acts of violence proves I am incompetent at being human’?

Additionally, if you see people that you know injuring others either verbally or through physical abuse, do you think that they are failing to be human, or do you think that you are for not being involved?

Now, maybe someone could simply say that such an argument revolves around human decency and the idea that some people are generally good and others are not, and it is all a matter of choice.

I am making an alternative argument. I am saying, what if, hypothetically, to be human means that you need to be violent – that such is a mandatory requirement, a fixture of our genetic structure – that it is our destiny and we cannot escape from it – none of us can. What if humanity is supposed to naturally be a race of violent zealots?

What if those who are causing horrific acts of violence; those who do bad onto others; those who hate, loathe and incite rage; what if these people are not the monsters? What if the people who do not commit these acts; the people who do not harm, abuse and bully; what if these people are the freaks; the incompetent delinquents; the monsters of society?

Would it be too hard to imagine? War, after war, after war, after confrontation, after confrontation, after confrontation; it seems that one group of people on the planet win a tremendous battle, and the next day another, far more violent confrontation has sprung up to take its place.

Moreover, how many times have you thought you knew a person; you befriended them, talked with them, worked with them, helped them, and they in turn returned these favors and worked and talked with you? How many times has something happened, something nefarious, and all of a sudden, this person you thought you knew is no longer perceived in a positive light, but you see them as a horrible individual? They have made a mockery of you; they are tormenting you; they suddenly loathe you.

Was this occurrence inevitable? Were they always this person underneath what could have been a deceitful façade all this time? Or was it you who triggered this by wronging them? But if this was a surprise occurrence, then technically, it would not have been you who caused this, right? So, how could this have come to fruition?

One could argue that society has laws which state that those who enact acts of violence will be punished for their offences? But how often do you see these offences going unpunished? How often do you see those who are supposed to protect society and uphold the law doing quite the opposite? How often do you see people harming others in comparison to people helping others?

Why is it that violence is often inevitably the first action to be taken, rather than the hope for a peaceful resolution with formalised discussion?

Why is it that a person can commit the most heinous acts imaginable, and then be so easily forgiven by their God with but a few prayers and words?

Why is it that when most people become drunk and intoxicated they do not suddenly begin acting so nice and caringly, but so violent and aggressively?

Why is it that children as young as five are carrying knives and are becoming involved in acts of horrific evil, like stabbing another child?

Why is it that on the news, you are quite often no longer shocked to hear of a suicide bomber killing several dozen people; no longer shocked to hear a warlord is on a genocidal rampage; no longer shocked to hear a husband beat his wife to death and killed his children; no longer shocked to hear a young man went on a rampage in the city, murdering and raping women; no longer shocked to hear that a person was murdered and the person who killed him or her did so without a reason?

Why is it that the news is often filled with acts of evil rather than acts of kindness?

Why is it that random acts of violence are filmed on smart phones, uploaded to the internet not five minutes later, and after an hour are suddenly the most popular videos online?

Why is it that on occasion, doing the right thing can seem so wrong, yet doing the wrong thing can feel more right than any other option?

Why is it that sometimes sorrow, pain, anger, animosity and heart ache come as easily as breathing, whilst happiness seems so incredibly difficult?

On that note, I have one final question;

When can somebody honestly say without a doubt in their mind ‘I am not very good at being human’?

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Hey Ma, I’m a Liebster Blogger!

 

Hello All!

(There are two curse words in this piece, but they are used in a positive light, FYI, if that makes the abuse of obscene language any more appropriate and less foul)

It would seem that I have received yet another nomination from one of my very pleasant followers. This time, the person who was kind enough to grace me with an award was none other than Elaine, who you can find on her blog here;

http://ourconsciousness.wordpress.com/2012/09/16/that-time/

My nomination? For the Liebster Blogger Award

Liebster Blogger Award

The Liebster Blogger Award

Now, what is that I hear you ask? Well, I know I asked because I had never heard of it, and so here is a quick rundown. The Liebster Blogger Award is provided to those who have less than 200 followers.

If you receive this award, you are expected to post 11 random facts about yourself in answer to the 11 questions provided by the person who nominated you. Then you come up with your own 11 questions and pass the award to 11 other bloggers with less than 200 followers and make absolutely certain to tell them of the amazing nomination!

Elaine asked 11 questions, which makes sense because the award calls for 11 questions to be asked. They are, as follows, along with my answers;

How do you deal with stress?

I will often try to entertain myself with either a film or a video game. I may exercise by running or doing sit ups/pushups. I might listen to music, write a poem about the way I am feeling or go bash up my punching bag.

What’s your favorite curse word? Explain.

Wow! The ability to swear for no reason! This may have to be the best question I have been asked, ever! My all time favorite profanity is ‘cunt’. Can I say that again? Cunt! Yay!
Why? Well, for starters, it is quite possibly one of the supposed worst swear words in the entire English language, so it is great way to show how angry you are, or even insult someone you absolutely loathe.
Two, I think it is great way to describe many of the people who annoy me.
Three, it feels pretty darn great in my opinion to use this expletive, because it can seem so harmless in one sentence, yet so horrid in the next. Some other curse words don’t have such a unique way about them.
Additionally, maybe there is some hidden subconscious reason buried beneath all of this…maybe I have an infatuation with the female genitalia. I wouldn’t be surprised.

What do you like to do in your spare time?

I am massive video gamer, my favorite platform been the XBOX 360.
I also really enjoy exercising. Unfortunately for me I have the body of a reader, so I’m naturally skinny and it takes a while to put on muscle, but after working out for 11 years you would imagine that something good has come from it.
I also enjoy blogging, hence the reason I am here.
Adjunctively, I have a passion for writing novels, screen stories, prose and poetry, and if you don’t already know, you can find my prose and poetry blog at this here link;

http://totalovrdose.wordpress.com/

It would seem I also have a thing for becoming attracted to women who are way out of my league, as you might know if you have frequented this blog since its orchestration. Whether or not that is considered a hobby to do in my spare time, I have no idea.
I have one other thing I seem to enjoy doing in my spare time, but I spoke to my good friend Mrs. Palmer, and she and her five daughters told me they wanted to have nothing to do with this post, and so I will respect their wishes by not outlining this other occurrence.

What’s the book you’re currently reading? (Or the last one you read if you haven’t started with a new one yet)

The last time I read for fun was back in 2005; it was Shadows by John Saul. The last books I read were Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Star Wars Galaxy of Fear the Nightmare Machine and Freddy Krueger’s Tales of Terror Deadly Disguise, all of which were read for a university assignment regarding dreams in literature.
As for the last book I read in general; that would have been the Darksiders 2 Strategy Guide, and before that, the latest Game Informer magazine.

Your favorite poet(s)?

-William Shakespeare (who could not enjoy Shakespeare’s love sonnets?), John Donne (the Flea, and his many other poems about lustful romantic endeavours) and Alfred Tennyson (Ulysses, one of my favourite pieces by Tennyson)

What’s the worst place you’ve ever been to?

Perhaps my high school, as outlined in a previous post.
However, I would also note that another terrible place I’ve been is that awkward moment when something horribly unexpected happens – like when the woman you have a massive crush on rips out your heart, tosses it to the ground and squishes it beneath her boot, laughing like a deranged heart wrenching lunatic all the while as she does so.

What’s your dream vacation?

Anywhere with the woman of my dreams. I have two of them in fact, and they both know who they are. The first of these two women who falls for me and decides to go vacationing with me – wherever that may be – that will be my dream vacation.

Do you have tattoos? If you don’t, would you like to get tattooed?

No, I don’t – but I have the intention of obtaining a few of them over the next couple years. My back and arms are going to be covered I tell you – unless I wimp out from the pain.

What was going on in your life one year ago?

One year ago? Today is September 17th (the day I’m writing this part of the post), so September 17th 2011 I was…at University, studying a course in communication, majoring in professional writing, and been a Monday I would have had the day off! However, to be more open about what was happening – yes, university, I at the time was in-between jobs and was attempting to ask one of the women of my dreams out – and she kept refusing. Wasn’t even asking her on a date! Dang!

What makes your heart flutter?

Simple – the women of my dreams. Additionally women with tattoos or piercings make my heart flutter as well. Ironically enough, both women who have captivated me are without tattoos or piercings. Hmmm…

Your favorite blog(s)?

Well, I am going to nominate 11 of my favorite blogs for you – that should hopefully be answer enough. As for the others – they would be located on the two other occasions that I have been lucky enough to acquire nominations for my blogs and develop posts about them.
Such information can be found at these additional links;

https://stationdeva.wordpress.com/2012/08/18/an-inspirational-kind-of-day/

http://totalovrdose.wordpress.com/2012/08/16/a-versatile-blogger-me-really-apparently-so/

And adjunctively at this link:

https://stationdeva.wordpress.com/2012/06/11/poetry-discussion/

Now, for the eleven bloggers that I nominate for this prestigious award…(in alphabetical order)

http://allworldissues.com/ – a young South Australian woman who blogs about issues concerning people great and small across the world

http://daunaeasley.com/ – a teacher who blogs about amazing teaching conceptions and ideologies concerning school

http://insidekatesmind.wordpress.com/ – self explanatory – inside the mind of Kate!

http://justonemonkeytyping.wordpress.com/ – young teenager who sounds more mature and intelligent than me and my entire generation combined

http://larrysmusings.wordpress.com/ – sometimes controversial, sometimes humorous, sometimes emotional but always powerfully true posts about life, world issues, events, economics, and almost everything else

http://ljoysharkey.wordpress.com/ – I’m not going to say from fear of been racist. Humour, life, love, culture, waitressing

http://mittenskittens.wordpress.com/ – a young Australian woman who discusses writing, life, and, according to speculation in her last post, might in fact be a clown murderer

http://nelsville.wordpress.com/ – a gorgeous young artist and poet. I recommend you avoid this blog at all costs because this young lady is dangerously addictive

http://playstationkw.wordpress.com/ – if you like video games then this is your one stop shop for amazing posts about them!

http://writetofree.wordpress.com/ – enjoy writing? A menagerie of different themes and genres can be found here

http://yanaamari.wordpress.com/ – adorable writing that is sometimes funny and sometimes makes no sense, but will always times infinity keep your attention.

Here are the eleven questions that I would like for these eleven bloggers to answer!

One: This was such an awesome question in my opinion from Elaine, so I will gladly provide it all to you guys; what is your favourite curse word?

Two: Do you at present drive your own vehicle or do you use public transport?

Three: What is your favourite vegetable?

Four: What is your favourite HUGE word? (For instance, doppelganger, promulgate, etc)

Five: What would be your ideal date?

Six: Who is your favourite poet? If you don’t like poetry (sigh, but some people don’t), then who is your favourite fiction writer?

Seven: What is your favourite film genre?

Eight: How often do you use the internet, especially social media? If daily, how many hours do you spend on there?

Nine: Sharks – do you like these gorgeous creatures of the deep, do you dislike them, or are you scared to death of them?

Ten: If you can remember, and you are willing to share, which is the strangest dream you have ever had?

Eleven: Lucky Last (drum roll please, no, not like that, yeah, that’s it – really need to fire that guy) Do you believe in any of the following; astrology, luck, destiny, fate? Care to explain?

Well, there you have it! Thank you for reading!

Again, thank you to Elaine for the award, and congratulations to all those I have nominated. If you have more than 200 followers, well, that’s my bad. I don’t even know how many followers I have, so in my defence, how am I expected to know exactly how many you amazing bloggers have?

Cheers!

The rat bastard playing loud music down the road from me must be silenced!

 

If I can hear the sound of the bass, the drums, the guitar, the lyrics and everything else several houses down, what is it like for the occupants of the residence where the music is playing?

I for one have never truly understood where playing music as loud as friggin’ possible ever managed to be described as ‘enjoyable’.

Having your eardrums blown in by music that is been performed by a band playing some brute European deranged rock song is not my idea of a good time, but who am I to judge the deluded, deranged lunatics down the road from me who get off on it? Whatever rocks your boat I say, I would just rather prefer not to hear it over where I am.

The second issue, apart from the noise, which is bad enough, is the time. The music starts at approximately 9:30 at night, and then proceeds to continue until 2 in the damn morning.

Now, calling the cops about this is like calling the man who runs the ice cream van and telling him the exact same thing; some arsehole’s idea of a good time is playing music louder than any sound that has ever been recorded. On top of this, calling the local council about this is as productive as calling the cops, which already illustrated, is pretty friggin’ useless.

Of course, you could always try communicating with the guy playing the music, who takes your attempt to calmly deescalate the situation as an act of war because not only is he a few tiles short of a roof, but he can’t even speak a word of English so you might as well go beat your head up against a wall cuz if you stand there any longer your head will certainly look just about as terrible.

Of course, this leads me back to the title of this post; the rat bastard must be silenced. First off, why rat bastard? Well, because he is a rat. No, he didn’t inform on anyone to the cops – remember, he’s no good with speaking the Eng, so he’s informing skills will be about as useful as his ability to play music at regular room volume. By rat, I mean, he really is a rat. He has tiny black rat eyes, a little nose with whiskers protruding out from the sides, has a pink tail sticking out from the arse end of his body and is additionally covered in a gargantuan layer of hair. Okay, maybe it ain’t such an in-depth comparison, but there certainly is a similarity.

Now, let’s access that word ‘silenced’. I’m not saying that something untoward needs to happen to him – I’m saying that something untoward absolutely must happen to his sound system – it has to be silenced; muted; permanently.

The question would ultimately be how to successfully do so – hypothetically speaking of course.

As previously mentioned, any legal means would ultimately be unsuccessful, which would perhaps leave the illegal, or as some may call it, the desperate means. Basically, I would need to gain entry to the residence, temporarily gain access to the sound system – then grab hold of it and run out of there faster that Road Runner been pursued by Coyote.

I guess it would come down to how many people were at the ‘event’ in question, and, on top of that, how many people were inclined to have the music system there.  Surrounded by a bunch of angry, drunken music loving freaks who came for the songs would be somewhat unimpressed in my view by a certain handsome, intelligent, amazing, quick witted, humorous, fun loving individual stealing their reason for been there.

I could additionally take a sledge hammer to the sound system – that would put both it and me out of our misery, for I cannot imagine that it enjoys having terrible music pumping out from its mouth. The question would be how to get there – a person walking about a party scene with a weapon of mass construction would stand out like legs on a rattlesnake at an event of this proportion – unless there a builder theme to the occasion – then nobody will question me.

Or I could take a pair of scissors and chop the cable – but this issue can be easily amended to some extent or another – unless the cable is fed into the sound system rather than been an attachment which can be connected to the arse end of the device.

Decisions, decisions. Oh, maybe it’s all too hard. How many parties can these people have in a week? Quite a few it would seem. This would make me wonder what the hell they are celebrating? The fact that they are alive? Come on! What happened to the days when a party was just that – an occasion to celebrate the birthday of an individual. Now…well, wish me luck, in any event. Desperation makes people do crazy things and I fear I may be on the verge of doing something really out there. Now, where did I put that sledgehammer?

…And the Crusade to hath hold unto: The story of youth, of life, of what is and what should not have been

 

This piece will contain some coarse language.

All World Issues is one particular blogger that I follow. A young, Australian woman, this particular blogger has some many interesting, yet at the same time relatable views on life and other such ideologies and concerns. On Saturday I do believe, the young lady conceived a post on bullying, and her general dislike of such a nefarious issue in society today, the post that she wrote located at the link below:

http://allworldissues.com/2012/09/08/my-crusade-to-help-the-youth/

By the conclusion of her piece, All World Issues asked her readership if they wouldn’t mind developing a post of their own in regards to any experiences they had endured in regards to bullying. So, with that said, this here post is my response in regards to such a question.

Now, I myself have had some experience with bullying in the past. Perhaps I should amend that last statement. I suffered quite a fair bit, no, a shit load, that’s the word, a rather large amount of bullying when I was younger that was active during my high school years.

If there was one thing I could say about high school, it’s that I survived.

All World Issues is not wrong when she says that bullies will often target you for no particular reason. So, why me? I wonder how many people say that when it happens to them?

I was new. Most people at the high school knew each other from primary school. I came from an area that was farther out, whilst a majority of the other students just lived around the corner, so had grown up together.

Amazingly enough, I was lucky – at first. I befriended those who were perceived as the ‘cool’ crowd. They allowed me access to their friends and appeared to treat me like one of their own – to my face. Behind my back it was a whole different story, and eventually I guess they just grew tired of talking behind my back and made sure it was to my face.

I guess I realised I was not wanted when I was simply told that – in one way or another. The guy sitting next to me said I did not belong there at the school. Then he said I should go fuck my mother. I was 12 at the time, and believe it or not this was the first time I had been told this. I had no prior experience and didn’t really know what to do, and so told him to go fuck himself and I wished him best wishes in getting his tiny prick any larger than one centimeter.

That apparently didn’t go down well.

I realised again that I was unwanted that same week when the same guy, along with all his friends said they wished that I would ‘fucking die’; how so – a sword to chop my head off – and then to hack me into a thousand pieces with.

Maybe a little over the top, but still, the message was acquired.

Then the violence started.

I was winded twice during my first year. On both occasions I did not suspect the punch was coming.

Later on in that semester, the guy who had said he wished I was dead became angry with me when he attacked me and I knocked him to the ground. He managed to get the better of me and beat the shit out of me for fun. The class laughed.

In the second semester though, something new happened. Wood work and other such classes are supposed to be fun for the guys. I leant three things during the class. One, I’m good enough with wood work that I would probably always pass with a solid C. Two, I’m probably always going to be a shitty carpenter, and three, a piece of wood hurts when you get clocked over the head by one.

I guess that guy who said he wished I was dead really meant it. I just never assumed he would take the threat to the next level. Perhaps I should have known – surrounded by sharp objects and such that someone who hated me enough might see the potential opportunity to do some damage. When the teacher temporarily left to go into the back room, the guy saw his chance – he grabbed a nice shiny piece of wood whilst my back was turned, and whacked it across the back of my head.

I got a whopping good head ache, nothing else, which I should have been glad for. I tried to tell the teacher what had happened – and apart from ignoring me, when it came time for the truth to come out, the entire class sided with the guy who had hit me – I apparently was a clumsy son of a bitch, had tripped, and had hit my head in the side of the metallic bench I was working at.

I came to the conclusion that I could not win and chose not to tell anyone else. I was the freak in the eyes of a majority of the people.

There were some that were not so bad. In music class I befriended a couple guys, and over the course of high school we founded ourselves a school band with some older students and managed to do a pretty good job at rocking and rolling around, which is probably one of my better moments from high school.

I could have left I guess to escape the times that weren’t so good, but a bunch of rotten apples were not going to scare me.

In the second year it was much of the same thing. There were less physical attacks and more verbal ones.

I must have been called every name available. A couple that stand out would include:

-fucking friendless freak (‘triple f’ for short)

-disgusting fucking creature

-mother fucking fucker

-fucking hideous lanky cunt

-Anglo cunt

-dead cunt

Imagine this every single day. It does get a little tiring.

I was also called gay, faggot and pofter a lot. It would seem that people who bully you are scared of sexuality. I however can attest to the fact that I’m a hetero, although I think those posts should not ever see the light of day because of their incredibly graphic content.

However, year nine was the definitive moment in my life.

Physical attacks went from one extreme to the next. I was frequently water bombed. I had my locker broken into on a couple of occasions and had my lock broken, with some of my goods been stolen.

Class also became more violent than ever before. I had a pair of scissors thrown at me on more than one occasion, and they clipped me twice. Once in the head, and once in the ear. I had a calculator thrown at me, but I guess my number wasn’t up cuz it missed. I had several pencil cases thrown at me on a number of occasions. I even on one occasion had a chair thrown in my direction. Now, you might ask, what was the teacher doing? My home room teacher and my English teacher were one and the same – and she joined in on the attacks. Not the physical ones, but on the verbal ones. I overheard her call me a freak on a couple occasions. I only assume she was talking about me because my name, the word ‘freak’, and the pointing in my direction all lead me to believe one thing. On top of that, on two occasions I told her about attacks and she said ‘what exactly do you want me to do? The class is working to the best of their capability, so quit your bitching.’

The only bitch in the room was her in my eyes. She didn’t last though – she left the following year to go make some other schools’ unhappy.

I began to do my best to keep out of the way of students. No one ever sat near me in class, and I was only so glad for that. I became quite sick and tired of doing things for those who hated me; staying out of their way, was more for them than it was for me.

This didn’t really work anyway.

Later on in the year, a substitute teacher took a class. The class, well, excluding me, joined into a circle, drew a picture of me, then set it on fire, and laughed as it burnt.

I guess for some that wasn’t nearly enough, for come lunchtime, it did not take me long to realise that the hissing sound I heard was deodorant – and it was been put onto me. You know that fire warning label on each bottle of spray. I always assumed it was there for a reason, and I suppose the guy who sprayed me was smart enough to figure that out too. I spun around to confront him and knocked the bottle from his hand. I turned back to close my locker, before taking off my jumper and dumping it in there too, shutting it and turning around – to find the guy with an ignited cigarette lighter in his hand.

Everyone around me looked real disappointed. I managed to avoid all of them, but not before they managed to spray me again.

I suppose the class was still lusting for blood come the conclusion for lunch, because when I returned, the class stood around me and the guy who had intended to turn me into the human torch took the lead. He shoved a knife in my face and told me he would kill me if I ever touched him again like I had when I knocked the spray can from his hands.

A teacher suddenly came around the corner, and everyone moved to their lockers.

Out of fear for my own safety, I began to carry a small knife in my bag. It was a simple switch blade piece, where you flipped it out from the side. It had a good enough point to it, but also had a ruler along the side of the metallic blade, for that was its primary job – ruling lines on paper and then cutting along them.

Unfortunately, one afternoon when I was placing books in my bag, a fellow student saw the blade, and told a teacher about it. Instant suspension for me – for one week. I told the vice principal who interrogated me everything that had led to this moment for I concluded that if I was going down, I would take as many people with me. The guy who had been attacking me all these years – the leader – suspended for three days. Justice?

During the course of my week long suspension I had the decency to acquire bronchitis, and so was away for two weeks rather than one, and upon returning to school, it was a very different place indeed.

For starters, the kid who saw my knife – he told the whole school it was plastic – and they believed him.

A foxy young woman who was a year older than I who I obviously in regards to my previous comment had a thing for also believed the stories. Let’s just say if she ever had a thing for me, it officially came to an end when she trusted all those who hated me over my word.

Secondly, a book had been passed around the year level – a blank exercise book, that was no longer blank at all. The pages in and around the middle were filled with the signatures of 126 people. I counted them myself. I assumed there were around 150 people in my year level, which meant that a lot of people had signed this petition, for that it what it was. A petition for what? The sentence in the very central pages said it all; we want Derek Childs to die.

How did I come by this book? My year nine homeroom/English teacher gave it to me. No, she didn’t sign it. I guess she thought she would get in trouble. I took it to the vice principal. His response?

He asked if I had been attacked recently. I said no. He asked if I had any wounds on me. I said no. He came to the conclusion that this was simply students been students and told me to toss the book in the trash and forget about it.

Forgetting about it was a little difficult. It did not take long for me to be attacked in class again, and after I ended up on the ground, in an attempt to redeem myself I really went to town on the guy who had attacked me – and I kicked his arse up and down the classroom. Well, not quite, but I did a good enough job.

There are however always consequences for embarrassing your enemies, and I paid mine the next day. I only wish that when people chose to fight you, they did so on their own. In a fair one on one fight, although I would have rather avoided such an occurrence, I had a considerable chance of winning. One on several though – excuse my language, but I was fucked.

Long story short, I ended up on the ground.

Eventually all of this became too much for me. There is some aspects of what happened I am going to avoid due to the fact that I feel I’ve embarrassed myself enough and there are some other occurrences that I do not want to touch because I don’t want to write about those painful moments, so I will just skip to what I inevitably did.

In class one day I found myself in another confrontation when the teacher left to yell at a misbehaving student. I had a number of items thrown at my head, before been told again how the class wished I would die. One such item thrown at me was a pair of scissors – the person who threw them also yelled out how he wished I would kill myself with them.

Now, I don’t know if I really wanted to actually kill myself, or if I simply wanted the attention of the teachers who had been ignoring me all these years; but I took that pair of scissors, opened them up, and with all my might I shoved one of the sharp tips into my left wrist. I then proceeded to do this five times, over and over again. I did not slice – I simply stabbed. I aimed for a beautiful blue vein and went to town.

As for the class – they cheered me on. That was until the blood began to seep out from the wound I had created. For some odd reason as I sat there, the blood flowing across my fingers and onto the carpet, the class actually became frightened and the one who had lead the attacks all these years ran for the teacher and told her what had happened.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you were at the time I guess, the damage I had done was not terrible enough that I found myself on deaths door – no.

I didn’t need stitches, but I did need a few Kleenexes and a good couple large band aids that needed to be changed a few times over the course of the day because the blood kept seeping through. I was fixed up at the nurses office, and the leader of the bullies was expelled.

Well, it only took three years.

As previously mentioned, he was their leader, so after that the physical violence died down. The verbal attacks didn’t though. If anything, the classes seemed more pissed off than ever that I had survived.

There was one teacher at the school who was particularly nice though, and he told me that as students grew older the attacks would die down, and very gradually I guess they did over the next three years. Very slowly, but still, they died down.

Of course, the one change that happened in year nine was that I changed myself. I began to stop caring what people thought, and I instead wore that ‘freak’ title they gave to me like a badge. This was of course after my little incident with the scissors. They thought I was a freak, and so I made sure that they would not forget it.

I survived high school. I made a couple friends here and there that are still friends to this day, and I was loathed by all the rest.

I am certain that lots of people have experienced worse than I. I agree with All World Issues that bullying is pretty horrible, but it ain’t going to stop. I don’t get bullied any more, but I know that some people don’t like me, but you’ll get that wherever you go.

I think you can either attempt to outgrow those who hate you and not care, or let it consume and overwhelm you until it takes control of your life. It is difficult to avoid the unavoidable, so me recommending that option is like me recommending you avoid the killer shark that is one second away from making you yet another trophy between its teeth.

Bullying gradually will become worse. There are numerous news stories about people been stabbed at school and murdered, and I am glad I didn’t become a news story.

Anti-bullying campaigns don’t work, and neither do the videos. You will never stop it; you just have to outlive it. If you can do that, then you have officially conquered it. This is my view, and not that of All World Issues.

That particular young lady wishes to start a campaign to build awareness against bullying and has other great ideologies in regards to such a plan. I’m glad that such a person is committed to such goals. I wish her luck and anyone else who attempts such a plan.

You ain’t gonna stop bullying for it is imbedded inside human culture, and honestly, how are you going to change human culture when there are 7.4 billion human beings on the planet. Now, many of them have not bullied others. Many of them have never been bullied. But the other couple billion people have either bullied or been bullied. I ask those who wish to help, can you really help solve all that pain?

People are capable of the greatest of things. They are capable of love, of happiness, of amazing intellect, of generosity, of selflessness. People can also do unspeakable evil. They are capable of hate, misogyny, and violence. This is human nature. Everyone can do good, just as everyone can do bad. Can you really change a couple thousand years of evolution?

A 50 Word Story a day frightens artistic integrity away

 

This post is in the tradition of a blogger who goes by the name Boy with a Hat. This blogger writes pretty good stuff, so check out his blog if you haven’t already when you have a moment.

http://vincentmars.com/

Once a day, this particular blogger posts a piece titled ‘A 50 word story a day keeps the boredom away’, and I don’t know if it is through that or through the other posts that he hath conceived, but this blogger has gained himself a couple thousand followers. I on the other hand only have myself a cool couple followers, of whom I am very appreciative of.

So, perhaps out of jealousy or other such like emotions, I have decided to conceive a piece of my own – all be it a rather ridiculous one. I will state however that this piece contains a couple sexual references. I know, a 50 word story can’t contain too many, but they are in there. Also, it ain’t 50 words – it’s 51! Oops!

The 50 51 word story:

Ms. Henrietta Neece woke up one partially fine Tuesday morning, only to discover that her clitoris had detached itself from her body during the night and run off.
‘Oh my’ she said, looking down at herself, and wondering what, if anything, she could do. ‘How shall I ever pleasure myself now?’

The Birds…but this time Mr. Alfred Hitchcock ain’t there to direct ‘em

 

This week I came to one conclusion – a Magpie quickly changes from been a docile, well behaved bird, to been a sex crazed loon.

Last Wednesday I took a walk through the park just outside my house. I saw the male Magpie. The male Magpie saw me. Both myself and the male Magpie saw each other. We greeted each other with insecure nodding of the heads as a bird of nature and a citizen of one country would do.

The Wednesday past of this week was a little different; I saw the male Magpie – and then he flew in my direction in its vain attempt to knock my block off, before proceeding with this strategy several times over before I had officially left the territory the little guy had carved out for himself.

Now, for those of you who are not Australian and are reading this piece thinking ‘what in the blazes is a Magpie?’, allow me to provide to you the answer. The Magpie is a bird, yes, very good description indeed. And now you know – no, I’m joking, allow me to elaborate. Basically, they are beautifully decorated in black and white smooth features and make quite vibrant noises in the mornings as they wake. They are carnivorous, and in the eyes of some are quite hideous, but in the eyes of other’s such as myself are actually really beautiful. Come Spring time however, the male Magpie becomes aggressive. Yes, he is now officially in heat, along with all the ladies, and the blokes what to prove they are awesome by attempting to kill every other life form in the vicinity of the ladies to ensure their dominance over the sectors they choose for themselves. It is for the good part of the entirety of Spring that any beauty that male Magpies once had is all but reduced to nil – they are violent, enraged, sex crazed creatures that will do anything to remove you from their realm.

However, over the past couple of years I personally found a strategy to bypass this violence, which is the reason behind this post – how to prevent been swooped by your local Magpie. Now, this has worked twice for me. It is also incredibly dumb – but it has proven effective. In 2009 and 2010 I used this stagey, In 2011 I simply avoided Mr. Magpie period – which is also a good strategy – but can become quite time consuming.

My way of dealing with Mr. Magpie…let him swoop you – and let him hit you. Preferably not in the eyes for that is where they have been known to go for – but a good hit in the back of the head should do the trick.

Now, I do suppose you are shaking your head right now thinking how much of a dope I am. Perhaps. But after hitting you, Mr. Magpie has proven his authority. He has hit you and proven his masculinity. He attacked you and won, and all the ladies will love and respect him for it, allowing him to have a bunch of baby Magpies in the future – who will grow up to hate you come Spring time too. Good times!

So there you have it – how to deal with your local area Magpie. It really works! Well, it isn’t entirely tested, so if he hits you and keeps trying to do so, well, I can’t be held liable. I again would like to say – this is quite foolish, so unless you, like me, have zero per cent brain, zero per cent integrity and zero per cent care in the world, you shouldn’t do it; perhaps you ought to simply avoid Mr. Magpie.

Your choice people!

Hollywood; Loyal Movie Developer, or the Murderer of Movies?

 

The following content is but my opinion, so if you don’t agree that is purely your prerogative, and you have every right to it.

However, I would like to state that over the past few years, the varieties of films that have graced our screens at the cinema and at our own homes I would say are less ‘gracing’ our screens as they once did, but are tormenting them with stories that require additional development, characters who are either very similar to others or who are simply brain dead and are unable to postulate a single thought of their own, and special effects that inevitably cause the audience to become lost within the, sometimes, beauty of the graphics and forget what the plot was in the first place – which doesn’t say much about the plot.

I would argue that it seems that Hollywood has officially run out of gas. The vehicle that is the movie making monopoly has stalled on the side of the road and is attempting to make its way back to the city on gasoline that is less that the required ‘premium’ variety that it is used to.

How often recently have you seen a film that was an original concept? I mean, every second film contains vampires, every third film contains werewolves and every fourth film contains aliens that are hell bent on our destruction. There are only so many ways you can create a storyline that is reflective of these genres, and eventually they all just blur together and it is as though you are watching the same film over and over again.

And don’t you dare get me started on the remakes that are been tossed out from Hollywood faster than its trash.

I have always wondered, how do the creators, the actors, the writers, the producers, the directors, and all the other hundreds of people involved in the original features feel when Hollywood decides to orchestrate a new film based upon the original story. Hollywood claims it is ‘better’, but really – these stories are shorter, chuck out the original script and take out all the ‘unnecessary’ parts (you know, the story) and riddle it with enough action in the hope of keeping the audience on their toes. Now, this can work; Poseidon and Fright Night were both, in my opinion, terrific re-imaginings of the original film concepts. But still, how do the people involved in the original feature feel when Hollywood markets the re-make as though the original never happened. I remember with Poseidon, which I just complimented by the way, the trailer said it was the first great film from WB and bla, bla, bla, but never in the trailer did they say it was based on the original film, or on the book that the original film was based upon. They said that in the titles, but who honestly reads them anymore? According to statistics in Australia, 40% of the workforce cannot read. And we are a ‘developed’ country. HA! My point is that I was the only person I knew at the time it was an actual remake. Hell, none of the other people I knew had even heard of the tele-movie ‘the New Poseidon Adventure’, let alone the original Poseidon Adventure.

Then there are the remakes that ruin the original films. A great example would have to be Clash of the Titans. The original film stuck to the concept of Greek Gods and the mythology that the ancient culture that believed in them based their religious theories upon. The Gods were mischievous and interfered with the lives of mere mortals. They could care less for humans, and never physically made their way down to the planet to mingle with them, and instead watched their struggles, and, if they became bored, would make said struggles even more forebodingly difficult and treacherous.

In the remake – well, for one, the robotic owl that appeared in the original – is scrapped! The Gods, well, they love humans. Zeus is constantly jumping down to Earth to talk to his half-son Perseus and give him warm advice and offerings and much needed encouragement, which he refuses, which is a first for me. I mean, who is offered a great array of amazing powers and tools, etc, only to say ‘no thanks’?

Then we have the insufferable love story that gets in the way of enjoying the real storyline. I remember when the young lady died (I could care less for the film which is why I forget her name), at the cinema, a little girl sitting not far from me said ‘mummy, is she going to Heaven?’ I felt like leaning over and barking ‘no you little idiot! She’s going to Hades! Now hush!’ My point? Our society has an imbedded ideology of our religious concepts thanks to films and other such factors, and in doing so we have ultimately forgotten where all of the religions began and many seem to think they never occurred at all.

And the ending – typical Hollywood – unable to generate an ending that is anything but happy. For once, I would like to see the hero fail or the loved one perish and never return or some other tragically emotional occurrence.

That leads me to the other issue – sustenance. All of the films made by Hollywood are so nice and sweet that if aliens are really watching these things, they’ll probably invade Earth just based on the principle that humanity seems to be a bunch of sissy’s, no offence. Well, I have offended thee, so let me explain why…the romantic, happy, hero always wins and gets the girl storylines are so far from being realistic that to call them so would be outrageous. In reality, such beautiful storylines are not articulated. Humanity would not survive against an alien force with bigger guns, bigger brains and better technology than us – but in films we always do. In reality the vampire would not be a tragically defeated soul looking for someone to soothe his lonely, wounded heart – but in films, that’s all he ever is, and the idea of sipping blood is suddenly turned into a big ‘no! No!’

I would like to think that people who watch films are intelligent. If that be the case, then intelligent people would expect more from their films than the stereotypical Hollywood jargon that is continuously been promulgated and force fed down our throats. True, we don’t have to watch it, but the thing is, do we have a choice? Australian films are few and far between. Foreign films – well, unless one understands the lingo you ain’t gonna have much fun because the subtitles fly across the screen faster than a Formula One Racing Car. At the end of the day, if we are to endure films to acquire some pleasing entertainment from them, I think we would very much appreciate to gain that entertainment rather than be denied it time and time again.

This leads me to my next argument. Video games that are turned into movies. Okay, I will admit, on occasion, the films in themselves stand alone as not half bad features. They are often action packed, fast hitting and quite enjoyable for a good couple hours. On the other hand however, when in comparison to the actual video games they are ‘based’ upon, I cannot see the resemblance. Take Doom for example. In the original Doom game, the Union Aerospace Corporation is taken over by demons spawned from Hell that kill everyone and leave only one man surviving – the hero the gamer plays as. In the film, the monsters are scientific organisms that were once people and have thus been transformed due to genetic experimentation, and have escaped and are running rampant throughout the scientific facility. Apart from a three minute FPS experience and the fact that a couple monsters looked similar to the ones found in Doom3, I failed to see the resemblance.

Now however, Hollywood has announced that Mass Effect, Just Cause, World of Warcraft, Bioshock and a couple other titles are all on the way to been turned into movies. My question is…why? Games are like movies – you experience them for the entertainment. Games are basically you could say like anime – they are animated features with the exception that the viewer becomes involved in the storyline and is thus further immersed into the world than one ever would in a film, which is beneficial if you ask me. Now, the shortest game I have ever played lasted around 4.5 hours. The longest lasted well over 36. My question – how do you compress all of that story into under 2 hours, cuz, let’s face it, there has never been as movie based on a video game that has gone for longer than 108 minutes!

Of course, there is always the Halo film that is continuously been put on hold by the fact that the directors keep running away from the project as far as their legs can carry them. I would presume they are right to flee from fear of the reprisal that will be brought upon them if the film is anything less than an accurate articulation of the entertainment that was acquired from the original video game.

In conclusion to this section, I find Hollywood’s continued use of turning video games into films proof that they are officially out of ideas, and so instead of creating another lame plot, need to turn an amazing video game experience into a lame plot.

Then there is the Australian film industry. I have spent enough time attacking the American version, so allow me to move onto one that is closer to home. However, this too is linked back to my argument on Hollywood; I blame Hollywood for the current state of the Australian industry. Not in regards to its financial issues or its lack of productivity, but in relation to the fact that Australian films are becoming much more Americanised. The perfect example of what Australian cinema used to be like would have to be the Mad Max films, especially the second in the franchise. Mad Max is the perfect anti-hero, which is what Australian cinema used to be riddled with. Americans have always loved their heroes. In films, their heroes will do anything to save people, country, God and anything else that stands for freedom and liberty just because they can. In Australian cinema, Australians in general used to like their heroes to be a bit dirtier. In regards to Mad Max, he agreed to help the settlers who were under siege from the antagonistic armies; however, he had a price. He wanted a vehicle, fuel and ammunition. If his demands were not met, he was not going to assist them. That is the perfect representation of the anti-hero. However, such an idea seems to have dried up and died with Australian heroes, when there are heroes, often they are now-a-days been articulated as true blue heroic characters that will lay their lives on the line to save anything and everything. The impact of American films on Australia has ultimately rendered our film traditions moot as audiences crave more and more American content that has caused the industry to adapt to the changing face of the Australian audience.

So, after that rant of mine, what does the fair readership of this piece think? Do you believe that Hollywood is still as fantastic as it once was and is spewing out pieces of amazing work? Or do you think that I may be onto something, and that Hollywood is in fact a ravenous monster, keen to devour everything in its path and turn what could be great into quite the opposite?

Thank you for reading,

Naughty Nefarious, signing off!

What’s in a Name?

 

Recently I have been going through an older TV show fetish where I wander aimlessly across the internet and through random stores around my location looking for shows I used to watch. Such have included already (and in no particular order) Walker: Texas Ranger, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Xena and Relic Hunter.

There is another show, one of the many I used to watch on television, but I cannot for the life of me remember its title; hence the reason for this post. Seems to me that in every second post I am asking for assistance of some sort, but that’s the power of social media, right? You ask a question, and in doing so, are not limited by the responses.

So, here goes…

I cannot remember the title, nor the names of the characters, but I can remember the general narrative, etc. I also do not know if this series ever made it to DVD, for some are never granted that opportunity.

This particular fictional TV show was been aired between the years 2000 – 2002 (approximately) and had a paranormal theme to it.

There were two main protagonists, a man and a woman, both of whom were in their early thirties (approx) and often dressed sharply and professionally. The man was white, wore glasses, had dark hair and was reasonably tall. And I just described a good percentage of the entire male population… additionally; it was the man who believed in the paranormal. The woman who was his partner had an African American background, and had her hair frequently in either a perm or in an afro style of appearance. The woman had some kind of clinical psychological background and was the more grounded of the partnership, often developing a more rational theorem to any and all investigations.

During the theme of the show; the intro at the beginning of each episode where they provide the name of the series and the cast of lead characters, they would show the man and the woman talking for what must have been the first time. The man says to the woman, who has a little difficulty fathoming what he is saying, when he explains that he investigates, as he puts it ‘paranormal phenomenon.’

Now, I can remember two of the episodes that were screened on TV;

In one, the duo investigate a man who is apparently been haunted by none other than his imaginary friend who he had when he was very young. At the beginning of the episode he collapses in the middle of nowhere and his imaginary friend apparently calls an ambulance for him by using the man’s own cell phone, but no fingerprints were ever found at the scene, which causes the male protagonist to conclude that perhaps the boy who called it in wore gloves. True, they eventually do find some adolescents who hang out in the area, but it is eventually proven that they are not involved.
The man been haunted will often hear a basketball bouncing around, but see no body. In one scene, he makes his way out from the underground car park to the elevator, and upon entering the elevator this arm suddenly reaches in, in its attempt to grab him. On the security feed it shows no such hand, but it does show the elevator doors do retract during the moment as though there was indeed something preventing them from closing.
At the end of the episode, the imaginary friend of the man been haunted comes into his bedroom and throws the basketball at him, yelling at him to ‘tell them’ what secret he has been hiding. It is discovered that the man injured a young woman in a hit and run, and after apologising for his crime, the haunting ceases, a letter been left which says that the man who was been haunted has ‘won’, the note apparently been left by the imaginary friend.

In the second episode that I remember, the male protagonist begins to look into a woman with an Asiatic background whom he suspects as been some kind of woman of death, for lack of a better term. He discovers photos going back through the years of people who have died/been dying, and in all of them the woman appears wearing a jet black attire of sorts; and amazingly enough, over the years she has never aged.
He meets a woman who he suspects to be this supposed woman of death, but she appears to be a stereotypically normal individual…until he himself ends up in hospital and sees her standing over him in a black attire.
Whilst he is temporarily out of it, the lead female protagonist talks to the woman with the Asiatic background when she discovers the large allotment of photos going back through the years. The female protagonist explains that her friend suspects that she is some kind of death omen of shorts, and the Asiatic woman is unable to determine how a woman who looks exactly like she does, with the exception of her dress sense, appears in all of the photos of death.
Don’t ask me how this one ends because I haven’t a clue.

Well, there you have it. Probably not the best of help, but it’s the best that I can do. If you have any information, or know the title of this show in question, I will be very appreciative.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerely,

Naughty Nefarious.