Thursday, 25 September 2008

XENOS

Two nations once lived on an isle, side by side,
Each one emboldened by national pride,
Each viewing the other with fear and mistrust,
And believing their side was the one that was just.

The first of the nations was named Baradun.
On their flag was emblazoned a fiery sun.
They had long golden hair and they liked to wear red
Except during Spring when they wore green instead.

They worshipped a god who was awfully kind
And had everybody's best interests in mind,
But now and again he'd get in a bad mood
And send plagues of insects to eat all their food.

Ayamadup was the name of this god.
In his right hand he carried a magical rod
Which he used to wreak havoc and terrible pain.
It was also quite handy for making it rain.

The second great country was called Faradoon.
Their flag bore an emblem which looked like the moon.
Their hair was dark brown and their eyebrows were thick.
They ate things that made Baradunians feel sick.

The god that they worshipped was also quite pleasant
As long as you regularly gave him a present
Of sacrificed sheep or a bowl of bull's blood
Both of these made him feel ever so good.

Aymanotreel was this deity's name
But to say it out loud was a cause of great shame.
He wore a spectacular flowing white gown
And a dazzling jewel sat atop his great crown.

As they eyed one another with familiar unease,
Both nations were struck by a deadly disease.
Bird song was drowned out by the screaming and crying
As hospitals filled with the dead and the dying.

More contagious than measles, more deadly than cancer.
The doctors could not give their patients an answer.
So they turned to the priests who recalled ancient lore
And stirred up their hearts to prepare them for war.

They told how the old scripts predicted their woes
And how only one thing could relieve them of those.
"When the rod and the jewel are once more made one,
The terrible blight will be finally gone."

So the war drums did beat and with nationalist pride
They marched in the street with their friends by their side.
Both ready to face their abominable foe,
Off to the battle the two tribes did go.

The fighting was fierce and the blood it ran red.
Back at home many families mourned many dead.
Hatred grew stronger with every son lost
And they fought on, ignoring the terrible cost.

On the war raged with no sign of a winner.
The generals had trouble digesting their dinner.
With their god on their side, they'd been sure they would win
And be back home before the cruel winter set in.

Death from the war and death from the disease.
Each nation began to be brought to its knees.
As farms went untended and factories unmanned,
The spectre of famine now threatened both lands.

Then appeared an outsider from over the sea.
He spoke to both nations with authority.
"United you'll stand, but divided you'll fall.
You must give up this enmity once and for all."

With reluctant acceptance they heeded his words
Men returned to their barracks and laid down their swords.
Then they followed the stranger to high on a hill
Where an old ruined temple stood quiet and still.

As they entered the temple, their eyes were amazed
By the beautiful art that time had not erased
On the wall straight ahead was a fabulous sight
With dazzling colours so vibrant and bright.

Two princes looked down standing shoulder to shoulder,
A symbol of strength from an age so much older.
A powerful symbol of brotherly love,
They stared at the gathering from high above.

One's hair was golden, the other's was dark.
The realisation was sudden and stark.
Both parties turned slowly and looked at the others.
Their peoples were cousins, descended from brothers.

Mistrust that had lingered for hundreds of years
Began to dissolve as they fought back the tears,
As they realised just how much potential had gone
When two nations forgot that two nations were one.

After many embraces and shaking of hands,
With regret in their hearts they returned to their lands.
The rod and the jewel were at last brought together
And the two nations ended their folly forever.

Friday, 19 September 2008

WILL POWER

The words we habitually use when we talk to others or talk to ourselves in our heads have a very powerful effect on our psychology. Understanding that and watching out for habitual patterns can transform our personal effectiveness.

Consider the following passage which I have adapted from a famous speech:-

"The British Empire and the French Republic, linked together in their cause and in their need, ought to defend to the death their native soil, perhaps aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength. Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we might not flag or fail. We really should go on to the end, we should fight in France, we should fight on the seas and oceans, we should fight with growing confidence and maybe even growing strength in the air, we should defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we should fight on the beaches, we should fight on the landing grounds, we should fight in the fields and in the streets, we should fight in the hills; we might never surrender."

Contrast that with Winston Churchill's original:-

"The British Empire and the French Republic, linked together in their cause and in their need, will defend to the death their native soil, aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength. Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."


Do you think that the first one would have inspired the nation and gone down as one of the greatest motivational speeches in history? Maybe what I have done seems a little silly, but the first passage is how many of us habitually speak, both to ourselves and to the people around us. 

"I ought to do some exercise." 
"I might spend more quality time with my kids." 
"I am unhappy in my marriage, I should do something to change it."

When we use words like 'ought' and 'should' we are allowing ourselves a psychological escape. These phrases are often followed by 'but ....' and end up being excuses why you are actually not going to do the things. We are torturing ourselves by continually holding up the things which bring dissatisfaction in our lives, but not committing to do something about them. 

Things never get done until you apply will power. By that I do not mean some untenable feeling of strong determination, but simply habitually using the word 'will' (or in Churchill's case 'shall') when we talk to ourselves and others.

"I WILL do some exercise." 
"I WILL spend more quality time with my kids." 
"I am unhappy in my marriage, I WILL do something to change it."

When we use the word 'will', it is far more strong and certain and there is no room for excuses. It is even better if we get more specific about it.

"I WILL do 30 minutes exercise 5 days a week starting tomorrow."
"I WILL set aside an extra hour every day to concentrate solely on playing with my kids and I WILL exclude everything else during that hour."
"I am unhappy in my marriage, I WILL speak with my wife about it this evening at 7 pm."

Many people do not realise that will power is just simply a matter of changing our habitual language patterns. People often say things such as 'that man has very strong will-power but that other fellow is weak-willed'. The point is that we all have very strong will power if we choose to use it. All we have to do is make the effort to root out indecisive language and replace it with the power that habitual use the word 'will' instantly brings.

WEATHER

I was standing at the bar in my local pub the other day when the chap who was getting served next to me said, "I was thinking of taking my wife and kids out for a picnic at the weekend. Do you know what the weather forecast is?"

"Yes," I replied. "It's that really short programme with the big map that's on just after the News."

VULCAN

If you ever get bored one day and are in need of some philosophical stimulation, take a look down the left hand side of this blog until you come to the links where you will find the Spock Quote Generator. Once there, if you refresh the page, you will get a random quote from the legendary Science Officer each time.

Here are a few of my favourites:-

SPOCK: "I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question."

You don't have to travel to Vulcan to hear variations of this one, which I hazard a guess are spoken in pubs, male changing rooms and on golf courses up and down the land every minute of the day. Spock's role in Star Trek was to play the ultra-logical and straight-forward foil to Captain Kirk's more complex, emotional and 'human' character. It is a dynamic very closely reflected in intimate male-female relationships. Avoiding the question is also a favourite technique of politicians of course. In living room Newsnight studios up and down the land, Paxman-like husbands desperately struggle to extract straight answers from their wily counterparts, but to no avail. If you want to hold onto a bar of wet soap, don't grip tighter. I think the message that the writer Roddenberry was trying to convey with his characters is that there is no one right or wrong way of approaching life, that our differences should be accepted and celebrated as they are the very things that make life so interesting. Having said that, Spock is clearly the best! ;-)

For some more wonderful celebration of the differences between men and women in relationships, visit Mil and Margaret. You have to scroll down a bit for the really good ones. 


SPOCK: "Every living thing wants to survive."

I have often been known to have friendly debates with members of some of the world's larger religions and one of the questions they come up with is something along the lines of: 'If there is no God or if the Bible / Koran / L Ron Hubbard do not speak absolute truth, then how do we know the difference between good and bad?" The above quote provides the essence of the answer to this, although it is stated a little naively. Dawkins would argue that it is genes and not actual organisms that 'want to' survive. That is how it is possible for one person to give up their lives for their children, their community or their country. Because by doing so they are doing what is necessary to make it most likely that most of their genes will survive into the future.

All moral questions can be boiled down to that. What course of action is most likely to ensure that me, my family, my country, my species survive and thrive. That is why some moral questions are fairly easy and fixed. Such as: "Is it wrong to kill people for fun?" It is easy to see that any community that held the view that it is OK to kill people for fun would quickly face some survival problems. But other questions are much harder to answer using this criterion. Such as: "Is it wrong to be gay?" Although I do not agree with them, is possible for people to come up with reasons why homosexuality might be bad for a community. It is also possible for others to strongly counter these views, and so this is a moral question which divides opinion and also one for which the majority consensus changes over time, so that laws which once made homosexuality illegal are repealed.

The fact that some questions are easier to answer than others, and the fact that the majority consensus on moral issues shifts over time, reinforces the idea that the notions of good, bad, right and wrong are born out of one simple biological instinct: survive!



SPOCK: "I remind you that humans are only a tiny minority in this galaxy."

This is a very poignant message for our time, attacking the arrogance of human beings who assume that we are in some way superior to all the other species with which we share our planet and can therefore do whatever we want with them. It would be interesting to know how we would treat other creatures should we ever discover life elsewhere in the universe. Would it be OK to ruthlessly exploit these creatures if we were able? Would we kill and eat them as we do our fellow Earthlings? How would we decide?

"Hang on a minute!" You may be thinking. "You just said it simply comes down to a matter of survival, so bollocks to the other species". Well, exactly, and by ignoring the long-game, by thinking that it is OK just to exploit the planet's resources so that generations close to us can prosper, we unwittingly may condemn our species to extinction down the line. Ecologists would point to the fact that every species plays an essential role in a complex network of interaction of which we are only a tiny part. Yet we wantonly destroy parts of the wondrous system that has sustained our species for millennia so that we can get short-term gratification in the form of material wealth. That means that ultimately our species may not survive, and that is why it is foolish and arrogant of us to consider ourselves superior to any other species. The crocodiles are probably laughing at us behind our backs. They've been around the block and seen it all before.

There are plenty more in the Spock Quote Generator, but that's all from me today folks. Until the next time, live long and prosper!

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

UNCONDITIONAL

The pain was all too familiar now. It greeted Walter every day as he awoke from troubled dreams. A sickness for which he knew no remedy. A burning pain in the pit of his stomach. Each morning as he came round there was a tiny glimmer of hope. The hope that the pain belonged only to the dreams and that his reality continued as beautifully as it once had. It was as if the knife was being twisted anew each morning as the sunlight brought the real world harshly into full colour.

The pain was familiar but his surroundings were not. Slowly Walter began to remember that he had left the comfort of his sofa home and was now across the sea in Ireland, the guest of his cousin Seamus the leprechaun. His recollection of his arrival in Ireland the previous evening was decidedly shaky. Like many inhabitants of his beautiful homeland, Seamus took the notion of celebrating life very literally and had persuaded Walter to join with him in celebrating the passing of every half hour of the journey with another Guinness. Walter vaguely recalled that once they arrived in the Emerald isle, there also seemed to be a general air of celebration at their arrival, which had included live music and dancing on tables.

As the memories slowly returned to Walter, he realised that maybe at least some of the pain he was feeling was the price of the night before. His attention shifted from his stomach to his mouth, which felt like he had been eating loft insulation. He opened his eyes and the light caused the throbbing pain in his head to sharply worsen. Like a stranded Foreign Legionnaire, all Walter could think of was water. Then a welcome smell interrupted the torture. The smell of frying bacon so powerful that it caused his barren mouth to start watering once more.

Seamus entered in an unnaturally buoyant mood, carrying a tray in one hand and a tin whistle in the other.

"Aaah, you've foinally come round! Oi thart you were gonna make us late fer de pub. Here, get dis down ye and then we'll get going," said Seamus.

"What? The pub? What time is it?" Walter's stomach churned slightly at the thought of more drinking as he took the tray from Seamus.

"It's 10 o'clock," answered Seamus.

"10 o'clock? We are going to the pub at ten o'clock in the morning?" Walter asked in astonishment.

"Well, you were still asleep earlier. But don't ye be worrying none. Oi don't tink we'll have missed much. Oi want ye to meet Dara down there. He's our equivalent of your Magic Dave. He's a magic barman legend round these parts. If anyone can sort out your head for ye, Dara's yer man."

"Ah, I don't know Seamus. I'm not sure more drinking's going to solve my problems. I'm not sure I want to talk about Tallina any more. I came here to get away, to forget." As he mentioned her name, the anguish was noticable in Walter's face and body, like he was flinching to avoid a fierce blow.

"Ha ha! Drinking's not gonna solve yer problems? Jaysus, you English are a strange lot. Oi sappose ye tink dat foighting is 'just not cricket' too! Listen Walter, you're in Oireland now. We'll show you what it means to be aloive. When oi've finished with ye, you won't even remember her name." Seamus placed his tin whistle to his lips and started playing a tune which Walter didn't recognise, but which nonetheless seemed to stir something inside him. The heady music from the previous night flooded back into his mind and for a moment he was entranced. Then Seamus knew he had his man. Tin whistle magic never failed.

As they left Seamus' place, Walter was able to take in all that he had missed the night before. They were in a vast underground network of caverns, one small part of which was Seamus' abode. They followed a tunnel for a short while before emerging into a vast chamber which was criss-crossed with paths carved into the cavern floor by thousands of passing feet. The paths led to many further openings in the cavern walls on all sides. Although there seemed to be no signs to guide the way, Seamus strode confidently on, beckoning Walter. Eventually they reached a door which was roughly opposite Seamus' quarters. A small picture of a tankard hung above the door with the words 'Dara Duff - Ales, Wines, Spirits and Sensational Advice' below it.

Walter looked at his watch, which read 10.45 am. He expected that they would be the first people to arrive at the pub. But when Seamus opened the door, he was hit by a wall of noise. Walter could not believe his eyes. The place was packed. In one corner a trio played fiddle, flute and bodhran. In front of them a flame-haired beauty sang with a voice which sent shivers down Walter's spine. All around were animated faces. They were dancing, singing along or trying to hold conversations above the music. A great cheer went up as Seamus entered. From seemingly out of nowhere, another wonderfully natural looking raven-haired beauty rushed up to Seamus, grabbing his waist and kissing him on the lips, before turning and walking away, pausing momentarily to look over her shoulder at him once more with a dazzling glint in her eye.

Seamus pushed his way through the thong towards the bar with Walter following closely behind, drawing interested looks from those close by. When they reached the bar, Seamus nodded at a young looking fellow behind the bar who immediately whispered something to his colleague and then strode over to opposite where Seamus and Walter stood.

"Is this him?" The barman asked Seamus. Walter noted that his accent was very mild. This he welcomed as he often had to listen hard to understand Seamus, particularly when he was speaking with his fellow country folk.

"Dis is him," Seamus confirmed. "Walter, meet Dara Duff - de greatest magic barman in all Oireland."

"Hi Dara," said Walter. He was somewhat surprised. He had been expecting someone much older. Dara looked like he was barely old enough to serve alcohol. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"I'm 35 Walter," answered Dara, causing Walter's eyebrows to rise sharply.

"Don't let dat baby face fool ye," Seamus chipped in. "He's been around as long as de rest of us. Only it seems he knows someting we don't."

"Ha ha!" Dara laughed. "I just got lucky with my parents! Anyway, Walter, Seamus tells me you might need my help. Something about a woman is it?" As he spoke these words, Dara looked deep into Walter's eyes. It seemed to Walter as if someone had suddenly turned the volume down in the rest of the room. The sights around him blurred, leaving only Dara in sharp focus. "Tell me your story, Walter, and we'll see what I can do for you. Here, get this down you." He handed Walter a glass of something that looked a lot like whiskey. But when Walter drank it, the taste was surprisingly sweet. What remained of his hangover instantly disappeared and a feeling of calm came over Walter as he began to relate his tale. He told Dara of his transformation after meeting Tallina, his shock and devastation when she left him, and finally the heartbreak of seeing her with another man on St Patrick's Day. Throughout the tale, Dara kept his eyes fixed on Walter, saying nothing, only occasionally nodding. When Walter had finished, Dara rubbed his chin and nodded some more. Eventually he spoke.

"Though you say that you do, you do not truly love this woman right now," Dara said.

"What?" Walter's anger rose swiftly at the suggestion. "How the hell do you know? Who are you to tell me what I am or am not feeling? I do f**king love her. I cannot stop thinking of her. I cannot function properly. What the hell would you know about it?"

"I tell you again that you do not!" Dara remained expressionless as he calmly repeated his assertion.

"Real love is unconditional." Dara continued. "The fact that you are feeling so much pain indicates that you had some conditions. I suspect that one of your conditions was to be loved back. That is a selfish condition. You wanted that for you. You feel you somehow deserve it in return for the 'love' that you gave to her. Real love is never selfish or needy. You want her with you and you want something from her. If you understood what love really is, you would not be feeling this pain. When you truly love, then loving is its own reward. You do not love with the expectation of being loved back. You love because to love lifts you to a higher level of being, regardless of whether you get something back or not.

"If you truly loved right now, then you would be feeling only feelings of love and compassion when you thought of Tallina. You would be wishing her happiness whatever choices she makes. The pain comes from a sense of disappointment and loss. You feel that you are missing out on something which you deserve. You particularly think you deserve it more than this biker feller. You also feel that you have lost something that you were once being given. But real love is given freely and asks for nothing in return. Therefore there can be no feelings of disappointment or loss. It is in the giving that you are fulfilled."

"But I experienced such a deep level of happiness when I was with her. A happiness that I had never even contemplated before." Tears began to well up in Walter's eyes as he spoke these words. "If that was not love, then what the hell was it?"

"It is likely that during moments with her you caught a glimpse of what real love is. When you forgot about the myriad of thoughts that normally compete to occupy your mind and became truly present in the blissful moments you spent with her. When you temporarily brought out the beauty of your true self in the presence of someone doing the same. Your mistake is thinking that it was she who brought you that feeling, when the truth is that it is something that you both brought out of yourselves in those moments when you remembered your true selves. When that happened, you were able to give freely to each other. If you had both been able to sustain that, you would not need my help now."

"You can learn to do this all the time, whether you are with someone or not. Love is given freely from a position of strength by people who already have it in abundance, because they have realised that the beauty and value of their true selves can be accessed at will. Deeply fulfilling relationships can be created when two such people decide to spend time together. If you want true love, first you need to learn this for yourself, then you will be ready to seek another who has also learned it. Until then, speak not of love, for you are deceiving yourself." As he finished the last sentence, Dara broke eye contact with Walter and looked over his shoulder. Suddenly Walter could hear the intoxicating music once more and the room around him came back into focus. He felt a soft hand grabbing his and gently pulling. It was the same dark haired vision of beauty that had kissed Seamus on the way in. She beckoned Walter out onto the dance floor. His head was swimming with thoughts stirred up by Dara's words. The rhythm of the music and the many voices around him were hypnotising Walter as he allowed himself to be led. Eyes sparkling with joy looked deeply into his as his body started to move in time with the band.

"Hoiya Walter," said his unexpected partner as she pressed her soft cheek against his to get close to his ear. Her delicate feminine voice soothed Walter's mental turmoil. The accent which Walter thought sounded rough when spoken by Seamus had suddenly become melodic and exotic. "Oi'm Saoirse. Dat's Freedom in English. Seamus told me a lot about ye. But oi want to foind out some more."

Next Story - Zoom >>

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Thursday, 11 September 2008

THINK AGAIN!

I recently watched an interesting video in which education and media expert Jonathan Drori challenges us to answer some apparently simple questions and then presents answers which may be surprising to many.





I will reproduce the two questions which are in my opinion were the most interesting. If you want to see the others, watch the video!

1. An acorn grows over time into an enormous oak tree. Where does most of the material which makes up the oak tree come from? That is, where does the tons of 'stuff' which gets turned into wood, bark, leaves etc. mostly come from?

2. Why is it hotter in the summer than it is in the winter?

I won't tell you the answers here, you can find them out by watching the video (it is only 12 1/2 minutes long). If you think that the answers are obvious, chances are you are wrong!

This video is a great jolt for getting us to start thinking things through for ourselves and to stop assuming that the things we were taught as children are correct. It is also something of an indictment of our education system as it stands.

TURKISH

If you scan my Facebook photo album called 'Tanks and Tats UK' you will notice that I received some comments on some of the pictures from my friend Serpil Altinova in Turkey.

Now Turkish really isn't my strong point, so I found myself an online translator for the job.

Here are some results I got:-

sapka hastasi - The hat patient

harbi uçuksun - The ramrod offers an oral herpes

Shortly afterwards I was talking on MSN to a friend of mine, who apparently has hidden talents and can speak Turkish.

Her translations were:-

sapka hastasi - Crazy hat guy

harbi uçuksun - You're utterly out there

Either the people who wrote the online translator have a good sense of humour, or there are some cracking double-entendres available in Turkish!

SALES E-MAIL

I was recently browsing the Web with the view to possibly purchasing some CDs (audio books) from a company in San Diego, USA. I began a purchase process, but decided to pull out when I saw the shipping costs.

The next day I got an e-mail from a salesperson at the company. This struck me as a little intrusive and I would normally have ignored them or told them to eff off. But I was in a good mood, so I decided to have some fun.

The following reproduced e-mails are the fun I had!


Hi Peter,

I noticed that you might have been having difficulty ordering on the web and wanted to make it easier for you. If you would still like to purchase product, I can work out cheaper shipping for you.
Also, there's something that you may not be aware of. Your order contains 4 items from the Personal Coaching Collection. There are a total of 6 available. If you got all 6, the cost is $89.
When you get a chance give me a call at 001-858-535-6274 or just reply to this email. If you would like me to call you, I will be happy to.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Have a great day.

Thanks,

Kay Knuteson
Product Specialist

----------


Wotcha Kay

How's life in San Diego? You lot really are on the ball, hey? I might still like to purchase some products, but I already have 2 of the series now. The first one and the one about Energy for Life. I got them from a shady looking Latvian feller in a remarkably tall hat, who said he didn't need them any more because his every dream had now been fulfilled.

You are also correct in guessing that I was altogether rather shocked by the shipping costs, so much so that I fell off my chair. But don't worry, while I was on the floor I found a cuff-link that I had been looking for for ages, so it turned out to be a rewarding experience after all. I also noticed that my carpet could really do with a vacuum, but I have so far managed to think of much better things to be doing with myself, and so the carpet remains in a state that my mother would not be at all proud of.

Anyway, Kay, enough about my adventures. What tempting deal can you offer me from across the miles?

You have a great day too, Flower.

Cheers, beers and Britney Spears,

Pete

----------


Hi Pete,

Thanks for getting back to me.
That was great. You can seriously be a writer. You can write for a great sitcom or something.
Life is doing good here in San Diego. Thanks for asking.
Well, I can ship the four to you for $25.
How's that?
If you would like to move forward with the order, would you like me to ship to the following?:
[My work address here]

If you would like to do the order with me via email, you can email me your credit-card details and telephone number and I'll process your order right away. If you would like me to call you just let me know. You can call me at 001-858-535-6274 if you like.
Cheers, Beer, and Britney Spears to you too, my friend.

----------


Hello again Kay

It's nearly midnight here in Blighty and my wise old grandmother warned me never to bargain with people in very sunny places with Spanish names after 10 pm. So if is all right with you, I will sleep on the matter and will probably be visited in my dreams by someone who looks a bit like Socrates and who will no doubt point me in the right direction by Hour of Power time.



In the meantime, happy selling Kay and have a good evening.

Cheers, beers and elephants' ears,

Pete

----------

Sounds good, Peter. Have a good night.
Sent: Tuesday, September 09, 2008 3:40 PM

----------

Morning Kay

Well, as predicted, I had a dream in which a man who looked remarkably like Socrates came and sat next to me on a park bench. In Britain that is fairly unusual as we are so reserved we will normally walk anything up to five miles to find a park bench with no one sitting on it rather than sit next to a stranger. Here is what happened next:-

Socrates Guy: Ahem.

Pete: [Sideways glance]

Socrates Guy: AHEM!

Pete: Can I help you?

Socrates Guy: What do you think of my beard?

Pete: You really want to know?

Socrates Guy: Yes, I really want to know.

Pete: Well, if you must know, I think it is a bit scruffy and makes you look old. Maybe give it a good trim. Have you considered designer stubble? I gather that's quite popular with the ladies.

Socrates Guy: I'm a philosopher, not a bleedin' underwear model. You don't see Dan Dennett going around with designer stubble do you?

Pete: You asked my opinion, you got it. Don't go getting all shirty because you don't like my opinion. If you don't want to know, don't ask.

Socrates Guy: [Grumpy voice] Very philosophical. Designer flippin' stubble. Tsch.

Pete: Anything else I can help you with?

Socrates Guy: Actually I was sent to help you.

Pete: Sent? By whom?

Socrates Guy: By the director. Uri Nersyki. When he tells you to do something, you do it.

Pete: I see. So what are you meant to be helping me with?

Socrates Guy: This Tony Robbins purchase thing.

Pete: Oh, yeh! I'd forgotten about that. I think it was that girl on the roller blades that did it.

Socrates Guy: What girl? Where?

Pete: She's gone now. But she sure stayed in my head!

Socrates Guy: Damn it! I always turn up at the wrong time!

Pete: If you think like that mate, then that's what'll happen.

Socrates Guy: Will you shut up! I'm the philosopher, OK?

Pete: Righto, Grumpy.

Socrates Guy: So what are your feelings on the purchase right now?

Pete: Well, Grumps, Kay has offered me a significant discount on the shipping. However, I need to consider whether I can't still get hold of the items in this country, maybe through Amazon or eBay, and save myself a few quid. It may take a while, but I can use the CDs I already have until I find the others. There's also the matter of whether I will be charged by H.M. Customs when the Sayings of Tony arrive in The Land of Hope and Glory.

Socrates Guy: I get it. So, it basically all comes down to a comparison of figures to you?

Pete: Pretty much, yes. I need Kay to tell me the total cost as well as whether these items are likely to be liable for import tax. If they are, how much. Then I can work out the cost per item and consider whether I can find them cheaper here. Simple really.

Socrates Guy: You really are remarkably dull sometimes, do you know that? Where's your sense of urgency and excitement? You are approaching it all wrong. Your whole outlook is based on the assumption that you will always have a lack of money. The point is, Toothy Tony is going to help you move to a place where there is abundance and you will laugh at yourself quibbling over a few quid like that.

Pete: Are you sure you aren't working for him?

Socrates Guy: Is that her?

Pete: What?

Socrates Guy: The roller-blades girl. Is that her? [Socrates Guy points]

Pete: Yeh, that's her! [Pete sighs]

Socrates Guy: Hubba hubba!

Pete: Did you just say 'Hubba hubba' ? I thought you were a philosopher, not an extra from Porkies.

Socrates Guy: Oh, shut up!

[Pete and Socrates guy spend 10 minutes watching Rollerblades Girl moving gracefully round the park]

Pete: [Sigh]

Socrates Guy: [Deeper sigh]

[Rollerblades girl skates right in front of the bench. She looks Pete right in the eye and smiles and winks before heading off into the distance]

Pete: You know what Socrates Guy?

Socrates Guy: What's that, Pete?

Pete: I think I am going to buy these things from Kay!

Socrates Guy: Did you see her smile at me?

Pete: Smile at you!? Why would she smile at you? She was smiling at me!

Socrates Guy: Dream on, Big Ears! Everyone knows chicks can't resist a brainy guy in a toga.

Pete: Yeh, right! [Sarcasm]

THE END


So Kay, tell me the full cost and I think maybe we will have a deal today.

Have a good day.

Cheers, beers and bicycle gears,

Pete

SCOTTISH PETE

A few years ago I worked as a Postman in Leeds while I was studying for a degree with The Open University. Before going out on delivery, we had to spend a couple of hours indoors sorting the mail into the right order. It was a lively and boisterous atmosphere most mornings.

Amongst my fine colleagues were two other Pete's. There was Big Pete (that's me), Little Pete and Scottish Pete. This little tale is about Scottish Pete, who despite having lived in England for many years, retained a thick Scottish accent to go with his razor-sharp wit.

One morning Scottish Pete had a rather nasty cold and whilst we were sorting mail he was unable to prevent himself letting out an enormous sneeze.

From the other side of the room, one of our colleagues shouted, "Oh, that's a week off!" He was suggesting that Scottish Pete might want to consider taking some sick leave.

"No it isn't," countered Scottish Pete in a totally dead-pan voice. "It's a big sneeze."

SINISTER

While writing the musing below this one, the word 'sinister' cropped up and sparked another thought in my mind. If you have a little bit of knowledge of Latin (or of Asterix books), you will know that 'sinister' is the Latin word for left. The word for right is dexter, the root of English words like dexterous and dexterity.

The fact that a word which originally meant left is used in this manner in English betrays a deep rooted tendency in our culture to confront difference with fear and mistrust. About 87% of the adult population is right-handed. It was only a few hundred years ago when left-handedness was used as evidence of possible witchcraft and led to persecution, torture and sometimes gruesome death.

That might sound ridiculous, but this still goes on today. It has just shifted to other differences. Race, nationality, sexual preference, disability etc. The irrational fear leads to mistrust, discrimination and in extreme circumstances to war and death. On a personal level, the fear of being different psychologically enslaves people as they try to fit in with the crowd by suppressing their true personality and talents.

The powers that be have a vested interest in maintaining these irrational fears. I recently went to watch Prince Caspian with my children. I was struck by the fact that all the bad guys looked like Iranians. Subtle Hollywood!



Embracing difference is the path to psychological freedom. The path away from fear and into a loving and fulfilling life. The path to a better future for the human race. In my opinion, the only way we can ultimately survive some tough times which will face us very soon as the population outgrows the planet.

SATISFACTION

In 1965 Mick Jagger wrote the lyrics of the song (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction. Wikipedia reports that the song was a statement about the rampant commercialism that the Rolling Stones had seen while touring in America.

I wonder how he feels about the rampant commercialism that spans the globe today and must eclipse that which he saw in 1965.

We are bombarded with advertising in the media all day long, it is very hard to escape, even if, like me, you take steps to do so. Jagger's simple yet profound words get straight to the root of the sinister strategy which advertisers use to control their audience.

Satisfaction is the key. Advertisers subtly sow dissatisfaction in consumers by presenting idealised lifestyles and then fool these consumers into the false belief that if they just buy their product, they will be satisfied at last. It is a despicable industry, sowing fear in people and making them feel that they are inadequate, then making false promises about their product's ability to make them a better person, to make them happy. It leads to massive psychological problems as people lose sight of the fact that what is valuable about them is what they do and who they are, not what they can buy, how slim they are or whether their hair has enough volume.



The bottom line is, if you try to do it by buying things, you 'can't get no satisfaction'. I would venture further and suggest that human beings are not meant to be satisfied. Dissatisfaction is what drives us to grow and to achieve more. The problem comes when we try to assuage this dissatisfaction not by creating, but by consuming.

There is also a misunderstanding between satisfaction and happiness. I would say that I am never satisfied but I am very definitely happy. The dissatisfaction drives me forward, makes me want to get up in the morning so that I can do more of the things that I have learned make me very happy. Those things primarily involve giving. The exact opposite of consumerism which is all about getting, getting things which ultimately are worthless.

SUMMER SALE

One day I was driving past this carpet shop in my car. It had a big sign in the window which read: GREAT SUMMER SALE - LAST WEEK.

I ask you. What is the point of telling us there was a sale last week? Not much we can do about it now is there?

SELFRIDGES

One day a couple of weeks ago I went into Selfridges and tried to get them to sell me a fridge. I pretended to be really stupid and uppity so that they had to call about 4 levels of supervisor to explain to me that they don't sell fridges.

Some days I make myself laugh out loud.

RUGBY

When I was younger, so much younger than today, I used to play Rugby Union every weekend. If you are not too familiar with Rugby, there are two codes, Rugby Union and Rugby League. The rules are somewhat different for each game. If I wanted to stick my neck out (which of course I don't), I would say that Rugby League is crap and boring. It is for thick working class Northerners whose tiny minds cannot appreciate the nuances of the game as it is supposed to be played. Of course, I would never dream of saying anything so shocking and clearly untrue on a public blog. I've often wondered if it would be more fun if there were two codes for other games. Perhaps Swimming Union and Swimming League. Bowls Union and Bowls League. I think some bitter rivalry and frequent mutual derision would liven things up a bit.

One day I was playing E-mail Picture Insult with my brother John who lives in Ireland. This is a fantastic game and I recommend it to anyone who cares to have a go. The idea is to find or make pictures on which you then write the word 'You' and an arrow pointing to something in the picture. I will give a couple of examples to make it more clear.

The first picture I received from my brother as his opening gambit was that of a small bird with the word 'You' and an arrow pointing to the bird. I didn't have to visit an ornithology site to guess that the bird was a great tit. I responded with a picture of a gentleman taking part in The Highland Games caber tossing competition, once again I added the word 'You' and an arrow pointing to the kilted fellow. We carried on in this fashion for a number of rounds until my brother sent a picture which to my mind broke the rules. He sent a picture of a spanner with the words 'You big' and an arrow pointing to it. I have been playing Picture Insult for many years and throughout that time it has always been forbidden to write anything other than the word 'You' on the picture. It is still possible to achieve the effect that my brother was aiming for. All you have to do is make a copy of the spanner and shrink it, then put the two spanners in a picture together and write the word 'You' pointing to the larger one. It seems that in Ireland the rules of the game have slackened somewhat and I don't think it is for the better. Where is the skill in just writing 'You big'? There is none. So from then on my brother and I have decided that there are two distinct games. Picture Insult Union (the beautiful, pure and original form) and Picure Insult League (the completely ruined, all fun removed, might as well not bother playing it is so rubbish form). It has to be stated in the first e-mail which rules are being adhered to for the rest of the match.



Anyway, that was a bit of a tangent as I was originally going to tell you about one of the most remarkable rugby matches I ever played in. If you aren't interested in rugby or sport in general, please don't switch off yet, because the story is really not about the sport, but about the remarkable thing that happened in this particular game. That year I was very fit indeed. It was a time when I was a fitness trainer and following a very healthy lifestyle. If you knew just how healthy, it would get on your nerves. Anyway, I had not played rugby for a while. I can't remember why, maybe an injury or just too busy. When returning from such a break it is customary to be placed in one of the lower teams for a couple of weeks to get back match fitness. So I found myself playing for my club's third team. No offence meant to the players who are regularly in the third team, but the pace of third team games is usually quite a lot easier than first team rugby, so together with the fact that I was very fit at that time, I was expecting the game to be pretty easy physically.

The night before, I had been out at a pub and a pretty girl in high spirits had put a fake Hawaiian style garland of flowers on my head. It was basically a circular piece of elastic with fabric flowers all around it in many colours. You could wear it around your head like a crown. When I got up the next morning ready to set off for the rugby match, I saw the garland and a plan began to hatch in my head.

Later that day, I ran out onto the rugby pitch with one extra piece of kit. I was met with a few whistles and sarcastic comments from spectators, the opposition and even my team-mates, but I ignored these and began the match wearing the garland. Rugby Union is generally played in short bursts of activity followed by set pieces (scrums and line-outs) where the game stops and is started again in a formal manner. When the referee blew his whistle for the first line-out, I took off my garland and raced 20-30 yards up the pitch into opposition territory, placing the garland on the touch line where the bright colours could be seen by all our team. I continued to do this throughout the game, my level of fitness making this extra exertion possible. Now, you may be starting to think I am making this up. I have, after all, been known to slide into fiction on occasion. But this is a true story. Every time I did this, my team managed on the next play to gain territory until they were more or less right where the garland was. This continued until we inevitably crossed the try line, at which point I retrieved the garland and put it back on my head in celebration until the next kick-off. This continued all game. People who were watching the first team game on the club's main pitch started to wander over to see what all the commotion was about, until by the end of the game we had more spectators than the first team. The final score was somewhere in the region of 60 points to nil. It was a remarkable experience and one I will never forget. A match that didn't really have any importance, but which made everyone who watched or played in it (even the badly defeated opposition) stop and think: "Wow, what the hell just happened there?"

QUOTES

Visitors to my Facebook Profile Page will be able to see rather a lot of quotes which I have accumulated over the last couple of years. These will probably disappear, along with a number of other applications which I deliberately choose to have on there because they are good, when the 'new improved' Facebook Profile page becomes compulsory and robs us of a great deal of choice about what we can present to our visitors.

With that in mind, I thought I would write a little bit about some of the quotes I have listed and how they have moved, informed or inspired me.

1. "Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt." - Shakespeare

Inside my head lives a little man. He is a wimp and a coward. However, it seems he has no intention of going away, so I have to listen to his whining and decide what to do about it. This little man is a purveyor of doubt. All his sentences begin with 'But what if ...' The personification of negativity and fear. Some time ago I learned how to deal with this little man quite effectively. The way I deal with him is to imagine him more vividly. I don't just register the thoughts that he brings to my internal debate. I deliberately give him a voice. I give him a whiny, nasal, monotonous voice. I also give him a face. His face is weasel-like, miserable and prematurely aged. Think of Grima Wormtongue advising King Theoden in The Two Towers. His body is slumped and he shuffles his feet when he walks. Do you like the sound of this little man? Would you go to a man like that for advice? Me neither. He now gets short shrift from me. This is Shakespeare's traitor. Identified, a traitor has no power.

Inside my head there lives a big man. He is a bit like Brian Blessed. With a booming voice he bellows encouragement. His posture, body language and facial expressions radiate joie de vivre. With deep resonant tones he reminds me that I must take risks to win, that I must always love without fear, that it doesn't really matter what other people might think of me, what really matters is what I think of me. When I have done something to be proud of, he slaps me on the back so hard it knocks the breath out of me. When I think of something funny, he belly laughs along with me. This man is my captain, my brother* and my comrade. A source of inspiration and courage. Do you like the sound of this big man? Would you go to a man like that for advice? Me too.



* If you have met my brother John, you will realise that this description is pretty close to him, but here I meant it in the more general sense.


2. "Men are disturbed not by the things that happen, but by their opinion of the things that happen" - Epictetus

Some of you may recall that I copied this quote into Random Musings Number 24, which was entitled 'Rudeness'. But I think that the idea the quote conveys is a very important one and understanding it has had a great impact on my life. As we move through life, stuff happens. How we react to the stuff that happens is entirely up to us. However, most people have developed habits of reacting in a certain way to certain things. It is raining outside, feel miserable. It is sunny, feel good. My girlfriend left me, feel devastated. I got a raise at work, feel good. These reactions are so habitual that many people forget that they have a choice. You can listen to the big man or the little man. (There is also third man. He is a hippy anarchist with long hair and purple glasses. He just says, "Ah, well. Never mind.")

We all have a choice about how we react to life as it unfolds around us. That is how two people facing the same event can emerge with completely different reactions. That is why when faced with apparent disaster, one person will panic or despair, while another keeps cool and finds a positive solution. To give up that choice is psychological suicide.


3. "If you wait for happiness to catch up with you, or 'just happen', or be brought to you by others, you are likely to have a long wait" - Maxwell Maltz

Happiness is a choice. Which man shall I listen to most often? Which man will I accept as my advisor? When I look at it like that, it is obvious.

PROCRASTINATION

I have recently started referring to Facebook as 'The Blue and White Procrastination Engine'. I sometimes wonder what I used to do to waste my time before this remarkable invention came along. Although I often have an uneasy feeling that I am wasting my life away when checking the latest notifications and invitations, prior to joining Facebook I was certainly not a Davinci-like hive of industry and creation. Yet try as I might, I can't remember just what it was I did to waste my spare time in the good old days.

I think I need to approach this like Sherlock Holmes.

"When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

Variations of this famous quote appeared in Conan-Doyle's novels no less than six times. He ommitted to mention the many times that the approach led to the silly-hatted Holmes declaring that a dastardly murder was committed by a completely innocent cheeky chimney sweep who just happened to like hanging around the same places as he and Watson did. But, for want of a better method, I think I will follow his example.



So what other forms of procrastination might I have engaged in before the fateful day that my beautiful friend Kelly Jayne invited me to the merry blue and white party?

Masturbation is or course a firm favourite, but this can really only account for my time at home alone. I have yet to find an employer who is prepared to allow it during work hours, despite my protestations that it would greatly raise my morale. That reminds me of a time in my dim and distant past when I wasn't the fine and healthy specimen of a man you see today, and had drifted into the habit of smoking. But one day I decided to give up and visited the NHS Quitline Website for some tips. One of the tips was: "Replace smoking with another activity that you find very enjoyable." So I decided to replace it with wanking. A couple of weeks later, although I had managed to refrain from partaking of the devil weed, my cock was very sore indeed and I had been handed a lifetime ban from the smoking area at work.

What about television? Well, once again, that may well account for a lot of people's spare time at home, but I do not have TV and it could not account for the several hours a day of mucking about that I have to put in at work so that they don't realise how remarkably efficient I am and shorten all my deadlines by 80%.

So I have eliminated masturbation and television. What else is there? Hmmm. I am struggling to think of anything. Is it possible that I actually spent the time before Facebook (from now on I will refer to that as B.F.) doing absolutely nothing with several hours of the day? Is is possible that Facebook has come to my rescue, allowing me to fulfill my true potential by writing nonsense, arguing with people and making strange profile pictures? Perhaps I can shake off that nagging feeling that I am squandering my precious days thinking of amusing ways to raise my eyebrows in a video message or telling people who post 'nice' chain messages on Superwall to "Please bloody well stop doing that (you lazy, insincere twat)."

Perhaps I have found my true calling at last ....