Y9 Student: “You are quite possibly the most sarcastic person I’ve ever met!”
Me: “Thank you!”
Category: Just Saying
My not-so-secret hope.
It’s widely known that comedians often make something sound lighthearted when they actually speak deep truth.
Alan Alda was just interviewed on ABC television here in Australia.
When asked about being invited in previous years to run for President of the USA, he stated he wouldn’t have been any good at it, but neither party cares if you could do the job, they just care about whether or not you could get elected.
I was about to comment on one of the current candidates when the interviewer asked Alda if he had a preferred candidate between Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump, he said, “I don’t make pronouncements. I don’t make predictions. I do have my own secret hope for the survival of mankind. Maybe that will give you a clue.”
Something tells me his hope is the same as mine.
Cardinal Knowledge.
I’ve been following the Royal Commission into Child Abuse’s questioning of the now-Cardinal George Pell, and his responses, with interest.
Every day – no, in fact, every time he opens his mouth to speak, my heart sinks a little deeper and my anger grows a little more.
I’m glad they are asking tough questions. I am glad he is feeling uncomfortable. I hope he feels ashamed, but I doubt he does. I doubt that anyone is surprised that he didnt want to come back to Australia to testify, or to testify at all.
Straight up, I will say that I am not a victim of sexual abuse by a Catholic priest, nor by anyone else. Having seen how that has affected others and impacted them and their family, I am continually thankful for that.
I am interested in this Royal
Commission because I care about other people and because I have a strong sense of justice.
Abuse or exploitation of the vulnerable by the powerful and privileged angers me beyond words.
As a teacher, as an aunt, as a part-time “other mother”… let’s face it, as a decent human being, I cannot comprehend how someone could knowingly and willingly betray the trust of a child.
I struggle to find decent words to describe how I feel about anyone who enables any priest to keep on abusing children by moving them from one parish to another instead of confronting and calling out their evil predation for what it is. That not the sort of thing that should ever be covered up or overlooked.
As far as I can see, George Pell is either lying or he was the most ignorant, uninformed, forgetful and self-focused guy going round.
Either way, by his own repeated admission, he has to have been absolutely rubbish at his job.
I do not believe anything he says. I’d be very surprised if anyone did.
I do not understamd how the Pope (or any other God-fearing priest, for that matter) could give Pell his support given his testimony this week.
If these men are serious about being Christ’s representatives on earth, I could make some constructive suggestions as to where they might start.
You bet!
Am I tired of seeing ads for betting on sporting events every time I turn the TV on to watch the tennis, football, or any other kind of sporting event? You bet.
Does it make me angry? You bet.
It’s not just that I am completely, totally, and irrevocably uninterested in gambling. Frankly, I fear for a society that cannot enjoy sporting competitions without feeling the need to place a bet on the outcome.
I fear for a society which is so willing to both promote and engage in an activity which brings so much grief to so many of its people.
I’m angry at the way in which gambling is promoted when people are losing homes, families, jobs, and relationships because of their gambling addictions.
Sure, it’s not compulsory. Nobody makes them gamble. But they do, and it causes incredible pain and destruction in their lives.
The ads on TV that offer help for gambling addicts are vastly outnumbered by the ads for gambling opportunities.
I’m angry at the way gambling is normalised in the minds of our children and young people. I can’t watch a game of football or tennis, or any prime time TV show, without seeing ads for online betting, mobile phone apps for betting, or some kind of lottery. This presents a very clear and dangerous message to our youth: gambling is fun, gambling is fine, and it will solve all your money problems. Obviously, that isn’t true, but it’s hard to demonstrate that to a 13 year old.
I’m angry at the greed of the companies that promote gambling, and are more than happy to take money from those who can’t afford it to further line their already luxuriously-lined pockets.
And I’m angry at the government for allowing this to happen, simply because they make good revenue on the taxes and fees that are paid.
So, no. I won’t be putting a bet on my favourite player or team. I won’t be playing the pokies when I go to a pub or club for dinner. And I will explain the dangers of gambling, and the lies of the advertising that promotes it, to my 13 year old and my students in the hope of keeping them from getting sucked into the vortex of the gambling world.
You can bet on that.
Christmas Adam.
Don’t knock the country town!
Occasionally I experience the discomfort of hearing people laugh, or at least smirk, at the town I live in because it’s small, rural, and offers less than the bigger cities.
It’s not surprising that this gets my hackles up.
Our little town of 1800 people has more to offer than most people realise.
We have doctors. We have our own pharmacy, fully stocked hardware store that also sells building supplies and pet supplies, and a newsagent/stationer that also sells lottery tickets, toys and gifts.
We have two boutique gift stores, a clothing store, lawyers and accountants, and a fantastic hairdresser.
We have a large supermarket, two banks, a top notch bakery, a cafe, an Asian dine in/takeaway restaurant, two other places for “fast food”, a real estate agent, a laundromat, and a butcher,
You can buy furniture, flooring, curtains, bedding and upholstery supplies.
There are two places to get fuel or and three where you can get service for your car. There’s a place that sells tools, trailers, and automotive/engineering supplies. You can get your tyres changed and your wheels aligned and balanced at three different places in town.
And that’s not even starting on the number of plumbers, electricians, and other tradies around.
There’s a pub for getting a drink or a good meal, or hosting a party or event in. There are also two rather lovely bed&breakfast establishments.
We’ve got a miniature railway, an historical dairy park, a go-kart racing track, a skate park, and a dam for fishing in, complete with geese and ducks. There are two big parks to play in. There’s a golf course, and a golf club that serves great meals and drinks.
We’ve got a footy/cricket oval, tennis courts and netball courts. The footy team go alright, and win their share of games and finals matches. We’ve also got both an outdoor and an indoor swimming pool!
We have a police station, and police officers who are active and involved in the community in positive and proactive ways. They’re helpful when you need them, they work to keep us all safe, and we don’t have to live in fear of harassment or prejudice. In fact, I don’t think there’s ever been a police shooting in this town.
The schools here are full of kids. Really full. There’s no danger of the schools being closed, or teachers being out of work.
We’re only ten minutes away from an excellent hospital, and 45 away from a really big one with all the fancy bits and pieces.
We have people of varying faiths and ethnic backgrounds, living in harmony with one another. Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, atheists, agnostics, JWs and whatever other faiths exist here, all get along just fine, because we’re neighbours and that’s the way it’s meant to be.
People greet each other in the street, and say hello, and wave as they drive past. When someone is in need of help, they get helped. Our healthy collection of churches and service clubs make sure of that.
And we have Christmas music playing in the street – not just Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph, either. They play songs about the birth of Jesus, and the wonder of God’s love for the world. It’s true that “Winter Wonderland” was slightly out of place in yesterday’s summer temperatures, but I know I’m not the only one who yearns to be back in a place they love where it is winter at the moment, or who is, in reality, dreaming of a white Christmas.
Christmas is celebrated in town with activities in the local park, followed by Carols by Candlelight, where hundreds of people gather to sing and celebrate together, on the Sunday evening before Christmas.
We also have Easter celebrations where the churches in town join together and worship Christ as Saviour in public, and plant a cross in the park to remind people that the true meaning of Christmas is actually Easter.
We also celebrate Spring with a big town festival, including parades, art exhibitions, rubber duck races on the dam, and lots of other merriment.
Nobody is offended. Nobody hates on others because they don’t agree. People just keep on smiling, and waving, and saying hello, because that’s what we do.
This town should be the envy of anyone who lives in a place where even one of those things doesn’t happen.
On top of all that, we’ve got fresh air, beautiful farmland scenery, rivers and creeks, and the amazing Great Ocean Road and beaches galore within an hour’s drive.
People shouldn’t be knocking my town. They’re just jealous and don’t even realise it.
Dumb.
Haters can be so dumb.
I wonder if the guy who made the sign was in a hurry, careless, or just genuinely ignorant of the mistake he made.
Everything about this annoys me. Especially the hate.
I have no time for people who will brand all the members of one group by what a few people, who claim to be the representatives of that group, do.
I resent their attempts to change the fabric of society and the blanket statements they make.
As I’ve said before, IS claiming to be Muslim is like the KKK or Hitler claiming to be Christian.
So I decided to take the sign literally and have a little fun at the haters’ expense. Just because I could.
No offence is intended. Unless, of course, you’re one of the haters.
Then it’s a bonus.
Oh, Paris.
My heart is breaking for the people of Paris, the nation of France and all those who are grieving or sharing others’ grief because of the events that are unfolding there right now.
While we don’t know all the details, we do know and must remember these things:
Not every Muslim is responsible.
Not every refugee is responsible.
We must not engage in vitriol against either group of people;
nor should we tolerate others engaging in hatred against them.
To do so would be to lose our own integrity by lowering ourselves to doing exactly what the perpetrators hope we will do.
These heinous acts are down to a few extremists who hate freedom and resent anyone who dares to have it. It seems that in their world view, they are the only ones who should be allowed to do as they please.
I hope that Justice and Karma act swiftly. Whichever of them gets to those responsible first, that’s okay with me.
Celebrating the record-breaking reign of QEII, the Australian way.
I’ve had a wonderful idea.
It’s 40 years since the dismissal of Gough Whitlam’s government in 1975 by the Governor-General, Sir James Kerr.
Tomorrow – September 9th – will see Queen Elizabeth II become the longest reigning monarch in British history.
What if Australia were to celebrate both anniversaries by having the Governor-General sack the PM again?
Australia would have a new lease on its political life, possibly even in time to prevent our becoming unable to ever look the rest of the world in the eye again.
The economy would receive an enormous boost because people would be throwing parties and holding street parades through every town. Freedom of the press to call it as they see it would return, and Australians could celebrate being Australian without wondering if they actually were on Team Australia or not.
The ABC could continue being fully funded and independent, we could go back to funding schools, roads and hospitals, and asylum seekers would be welcomed without being “filtered” according to artificially imposed rules and guidelines that make those who dream them up almost as bigoted as the people the asylum seekers are running away from in the first place.
Australia could once again be the “lucky country” with boundless plains to share, where the little guy can achieve something great once in a while without being accused of having a “sense of entitlement”.
Stop for a moment and think about it.
It really would be the gift that keeps on giving.
Give “booing” the boot.
I support the rights of sports spectators everywhere to not like everyone on the field. Liking everyone is not compulsory.
I do not accept that they have a right to call names, boo, hiss, swear, curse or insult anyone who takes the field / court / cricket pitch, or anyone else for that matter.
I’ve seen plenty of this behaviour directed at footballers and participants in various other sports in my time, and it sickens me. If they weren’t among the best, they wouldn’t be out there.
The colour of someone’s skin, their racial or religious heritage, or their sexual preferences have absolutely nothing to do with it.
I support the rights of all people to work in their workplace without harassment, vilification, or threats of harm. That applies to footballers as well as mechanics, teachers, doctors, nurses and everyone else. If you wouldn’t accept that treatment at work, don’t expect anyone else to. If you would feel threatened with hundreds of people “booing” at you, don’t expect others not to.
To belittle, mock or harass someone is childish. To support that kind of behaviour among people who should know better is worse. For heaven’s sake, we’re not all six years old.
Yes, sometimes people do things that we don’t like. Sometimes people do things that they regret. Sometimes, one’s actions end up having consequences that they certainly did not expect. That’s life. We’re all human, and nobody’s perfect.
I think it’s about time a lot of Australians took a long, hard look at themselves, got over their arrogance, and learned to play nicely with others, both on and off the field.
WordyNerdBird 