In the world of video games, the end doesn’t always justify the means

 

Although some may refuse to believe this statement to be true, games have indeed matured since the days of their orchestration. Initially beginning as nothing more than experiences which required the gamer to run and gun their way from the start of a level to its conclusion, additional storylines, character development and in-depth background of locations, scenarios and occurrences have modified gaming into an experience which can easily rival the enjoyment ascertained from reading and watching films.

As the title of this piece suggests, my belief, and a factor of gaming that I especially enjoy, is as follows; although a game may more often than not require a gamer to potentially blast their way from one side of the game to the next, the ending does not necessarily have to end with such violence; nor does the game as a whole.

Nowadays, a majority of games have cinematics and other such occurrences which separate one action sequence from the next which adds depth to the fictitious piece as a whole. In an RPG, this happens more often than not when in comparison with a shooter, a great comparative example being that of the Halo franchise and the Mass Effect series; both are entrenched with an amazing character driven narrative which immerses the player in futuristic alien environments against vile, antagonistic opponents who seek the destruction of humanity. Shrouded with other themes, the likes of friendship, family, love, betrayal, redemption and revenge, these games offer the player a gratifying experience that is worth experiencing again and again.

On that note, if a game has being leading the player through a substantially powerful storyline amidst the many action sequences, the conclusion could no doubt carry the same weight. The days when an ending to a game was simply a mix of explosions, mixed with the demise of the end boss is indeed still apparent, but more is conveyed during the moments that follow on from this particular occurrence, and it is that which I am aiming to discuss.

When I am playing a game and find myself at its conclusion, more often than not I would like to experience an ending which is incredibly emotional; a simpler way would be to say a real tear jerker.

The first time I finished a game which ended in much the same way I have described above the year was 2003, and the title of the game was Unreal II The Awakening. Since that time, it has again happened in regards to titles the likes of Bioshock and its sequel Bioshock 2, Halo Reach, Halo 4 and Mass Effect 3 (especially when played with the Extended Cut DLC).

Adjunctively Gears of War 2 and 3 moved me emotionally, but these moments occurred during the games rather than at their conclusions.

If a game has already proved itself capable of delivering unto the player an experience that is consistent with the kind of powerful storyline you would expect from a genuine blockbuster at the cinema, then an emotionally charged ending is no doubt an inevitability by the game’s end.

Of course, the stereotypical feature only runs for a period no less than two hours, where as the shortest stereotypical game one is likely to experience today will go for approximately three times that amount. So, if I am going to immerse myself into a fictitious world for that amount of time, then I would very much like for the ending to be as passionately powerful as the overall experience from start to finish was for me.

I can only speak for myself, but I very much enjoy being fully immersed into the world of a video game to such an extent that I will genuinely feel something; I will become sad if a protagonist who I had befriended and fought beside dies; I will smile if the vile antagonist who caused such pain and suffering is defeated by game’s end; I will feel contempt at the evocative nature of any relationship that I manage to instigate between my character and a possible paramour.

With that said, certain readers may find it interesting that I would rather be brought to tears by the ending of a specific title, rather than find an epic amount of explosions dazzling across the screen before the credits gradually start rolling. True, I don’t believe that people in general enjoy crying, but that rule does not apply in my opinion when you are viewing fictitious content. To be moved in any which way; to tears; to fits of hysterical laughter; to glances of awe, is not always possible with every title, no matter the content, and to become emotionally distraught by a tragic ending is not something to be horrified at, but something to be ecstatic with.

If a feature has moved the viewer in the way that the writers, director and developers originally intended, then they have successfully achieved that which they had set out to do. If I had not being moved to tears by the game’s ending then that would have being an issue for I would not be acquiring the experience that I had paid for. Game’s in general often cost three times the amount of a film, and to be moved by the conclusion is well worth the one hundred odd dollars that the campaign was valued at.

In conclusion, I would very much like for more game’s to have an emotionally charged ending after playing through the campaign, or, like the Mass Effect series, build up on that possible ending through a franchise. After all, if I am going to be fully immersed into the world of a video game, I would genuinely appreciate the ability to be moved by an ending that has being developed by people as passionate for the game as I am, rather than end on the stereotypical explosive scenario that many game’s to this day conclude upon.

To be moved to tears by a game’s ending is not something that people should look down upon; it simply means that the player is human. As a species, humans are more often than not affected emotionally when something tragic happens. All I ask is that this in-depth feeling of humanity is written into the game’s that I play.

Thank you for reading.

If you have any comments on what I have written, or opinions of your own in regards to the subject matter, please, feel free to discuss them in the comments section below.

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’?

…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?

Global Warming? How do you spell that again? C-L-I-M-A-T-E C-H-A…

 

This piece contains some coarse language.

For anyone living in Australia, you would now know one hundred per cent how it feels to be afflicted with the ‘carbon tax’ (queue the spooky music…du, du, du, du!). For any readers who are not Australian and just read my last sentence and thought ‘eh?’ do not be alarmed! Allow me to quickly explain what the carbon tax is…

The carbon tax is a form of tax orchestrated by the Australian Labor Party and the Greens which has been a work in progress for roughly the past couple years and has only now come to fruition. It is also a tax that was supposed to never occur, but funnily enough the politician who made such a bold statement seemed to forget she made that promise…immediately after becoming Prime Minister…

The Carbon Tax is generated to supposedly bring down carbon emissions of larger companies and to basically teach the wider Australian community that carbon ix bad, and less carbon is good. Items that contain no carbon, or do not harm the environment do not acquire the tax, which is supposed to cause the people of Australia to buy these products rather than those that contain carbon – and the tax that is now mandatory with it. However, just like girls and chocolate, we know carbon is bad for us – but in the end we just can’t seem to get enough of the products that contain it.

I do believe it was in 1997 that the Liberal Party were involved in instigating the GST (General Standard Tax, although I don’t think I needed to say what that acronym means…), which was applied to a large monopoly of items and to this very day still is. The Carbon Tax is much like this, and after been introduced last week, has already begun to plague the public, especially small business owners, who fear that they will be forced to pay more for their supplies, which includes anything from fresh food and groceries to household appliances.

Although don’t ask me how a banana or an apple or a bit of meat on a slab that up until five hours ago was going ‘mooo!’ is in any way capable of nefariously affecting our environment. Simply put – why is fruit been taxed? Why is meat been taxed? I know a cow when alive eats and farts grass all day – but an innocent piece of red meat? What did it ever do to hurt anyone – except for bleed in the car on the way home…hate when that happens!

However, the PM has issued money to all Australian residents to help pay for the newly initiated tax. The allotment supplied however depends on whether a person is single, whether they be a couple, or whether they be a family with kids. Basically, a person may receive anything between $70 to around $400 per month is it? I’m not really down with the figures, but this grant is supposed to assist with paying for the tax, which almost seems a little redundant if you ask me. I mean, why tax something, only to help people pay for it? Then again almost everything seems to be on the verge of being taxed. Should only be glad that the air we breathe and the carbon dioxide we breathe back out does not come with a charge. No, sorry I spoke too soon – I think that is been implemented next week.

Amazingly enough, last time I checked the mining industry was not been taxed, and at the very start one of the whole ideas – was to tax the mining industry!

Now, with this said, I think it’s obvious that I am not a fan of the ominous Carbon Tax and am therefore not gonna dance up and down the street supporting the damn thing. However, if I am to look at this tax without personal bias and loathing, I do believe there are some possible efficacious reasons behind its introduction, rather than simply malicious ones.

FOLLOW THE LEADER!
I do believe it was at this year’s climate change summit that PM Julia Gillard spoke to other countries about the growing need to save our planet from the villainous enemy that is carbon. Basically, she was laughed out of the show for suggesting such a thing. Why? Do not other countries want to save the world? Maybe…but why take advice about saving the world from a country that can’t be bothered saving it themselves?

If Australia begins a carbon tax and shows how it is reducing carbon emissions by limiting the spread of major companies and their use of such a source of power, then other countries may be inclined to follow suit. It’s all fun and easy for Australia to sit back and say to other countries the likes of America and Asia and Europe that they ought to consider taxing carbon emissions, but if Australia is not doing the same thing, then why listen. That’s like saying to a friend of yours ‘walk through that mine field to collect our tennis ball’, whilst at the same time you yourself are not going to accompany him in and risk being blown up just as he is. That’s the thing – this whole carbon tax could blow up in our faces.

I guess in this sense Australia is being the guinea pig. Probably a good idea. If Australia puts its money where its mouth is for once in its life and takes the first step in a mature direction, the other countries of the world may step up to the table and do the same thing.

Doing the right things costs nothing. Well, in this case it does, but it will be worth it in the end if everything is successful. Well, I hope so, otherwise not only will we be drowning in carbon emissions, bankruptcy, people and political bull – but we’ll be broke as well!

BUILDING AN AWARENESS AGAINST THE CHANGE IN CLIMATE
Who really cares about climate change? Who really cares about global warming? They are both one and the same, funnily enough. Except the latter sounds far nicer than the former.

Yes ladies and gentleman the elephant in the room has officially been spotted. No, no, not the same sex marriage elephant, that poor little guy was hunted down to extinction. That’s what happens when you have a government filled with homophobes. And not the elephant in regards to migration and asylum seekers – I do believe that one was been trafficked across the ocean when its ship capsised and drowned. No, I’m talking about the one in regards to carbon emissions!

By having a carbon tax, the Australian public get something from it – what? A bigger bill? Well, that too, but I am talking about the unavoidable discovery of climate change. It cannot be ignored again now that a tax has been promulgated and has been officially revealed to the Australian public, and carbon has been visualised as the horrific monster that it is. And even though at least half the country is talking about how much they hate the friggin’ tax, at least they are still talking about it, right? Right?

If Australia builds up an awareness of the carbon emission issue, then other countries will be able to see it for what it is; a worldwide pandemic that ultimately threatens to devastate our way of living if we do not do something about it immediately.

However, in all fairness our planet is already so far fucked not even Heaven herself could save us. But if we lucky and are still able to stop the hands of time from ticking, then we would have saved our future generations. The only problem is they’ll be broke cuz their families wasted all their money paying for the carbon tax…

HELPING TO SAVE THE WORLD
Inevitably, if the scientists and the PM are correct and the carbon tax is going to ultimately save our asses, then that in my view would be reason enough for the tax to be successful. If it works, and is proven to be effective in fighting the issues with our changing climate, then it will be of great interest for other countries to instigate. Upon a majority of countries in the world initiating such a (what could be sometimes visualised as) drastic movement against the changing climate, then we will effectively be getting somewhere with the preservation of our future.

The real change will begin when countries like China, who have a carbon foot print that makes Godzilla’s look immeasurably miniscule, begin to come to the table. Australia’ population is roughly 25 mil. America’s is a couple hundred mil, and China’s is well into the bil+. My point? 25 million people can’t honestly cause as much carbon damage as a country with a couple hundred million, and a country containing a couple hundred million people can’t do nearly as much damage as a country with a good billion people running around inside it.

So the PM may charge us for our carbon footprint, but even if we continue this for the next couple hundred years or more and Australia effectively reduces its emissions by 50%, 75% or hell, even 100%, it is going to do sweet not much at all if every other country just sits back and continues to use and abuse what they have. The world ain’t gonna be saved just because one country decided to tax carbon and reduce emissions. We are only doing this for our pathetically tiny part of the world. The other countries need to look out for their own, and if they don’t, then all our lives may well be lost.

Very recently South Korean scientists made the discovery that Minke Whales are yummy. Maybe tomorrow another South Korean scientist will come to the realisation that something needs to be done about the carbon emissions of the world. All it takes is another country to step up to the table and announce the same thing the Australian PM has for the statement to be better heard.

Now, I will admit, true, I have complained and have taken umbrage at this whole carbon tax fiasco, but the reason I am so concerned is simple. Australia is a small country and I become concerned when someone changes the biscuits that I have with my afternoon coffee. A change in the way I spend my dollars of course will be considerably more dramatic in my life. Also, I may believe that the world is drowning in its own carbon fumes, but that don’t mean I have to enjoy the idea of forking out an extra few dollars each and every day.

AN ANSWER TO THE ECONOMIC RECESSION?
Yes, why the hell not! Most of the world is drowning under the issue that is the economic recession, especially in Europe. Think about it…if European nations begin to tax people on carbon, that could be one way to boost the amount of money governments had.

I know when I first heard our PM talk about the carbon tax I initially thought it was just another money raking scheme that she had concocted out of thin air to gain a little extra cash on the side. Well, in my defense against such ignorance our PM does seem to give herself and her municipals a pay rise every second week, which mind you, comes out from the rate payer, which explains why our bills have miraculously increased by almost 25% over the past couple months alone…so why not ask the people of this country for a little more money in the disguise of a tax that addresses something that cannot be seen. That’s like making a tax against ghosts.

But like I have already said I actually believe that carbon is an issue that needs to be resolved, and maybe our PM legitimately cares and is the right lady for the job to lead our country into the future. Only time will tell.

What I can say however is that although our PM likes to swear up and down that our country has the best economic situation in the ENTIRE WORLD and believes this to be true to such an extent that she bragged about it at a summit not too long ago where the economic recession was the primary topic of discussion. I guess the PM simply forgot that little Queensland was attached to our little country. Well, it only takes up a good fifth of this country of ours, so it’s understandable that it is very easy to be dismissed. My point is that Queensland is 12 billion dollars in debt. Maybe that simply slipped the PM’s mind when she was discussing our great Australia’s debt situation was? Here, the carbon tax could be a good way to help soothe the situation, and I do believe that politicians in Queensland have suggested the exact same thing. But of course, those politicians, they will gain a little bit for themselves – let’s not lie. An extra buck in the pocket is always great.

So with that said, if the carbon tax cannot help our country’s be rid of any carbon issues – perhaps it could help with many of the economic ones that keep sprouting out from the ground like Lemmings.

CONCLUSION
Either way we are for the moment stuck with the carbon tax. Now, I am yet to consult my little crystal ball, so I do not foresee what will come of such a tax, but I can say that if it helps this little blue and green planet of ours from staying little, blue and green – why the hell not allow its longevity, along with our own in the process?

This is Naughty Nefarious, signing off