Why can’t my mind come up with lines like this while awake?

Awoke from a spooky dream this morning.

Was watching Tip, the dog my late Poppa used to have back in the 1970s, jump into my Poppa’s brown station wagon to go hunting with him – which normally he didn’t get to go and do. Then Poppa drove off with him and I realised I was dreaming. My Poppa passed away in 1989.

I woke up – in my dream.

I walked out of the spare bedroom at my Nanna’s old place at Wangary, walked up to her and with my Poppa’s passing in mind, told her that I had a dream about he and Tip going hunting.

Nanna turned around, shrouded in shadows and said “Yes. I know. He said we’d all be seeing him soon.”

Then I woke up.

Spooky stuff. Don’t usually think of lines like that when I’m awake. Why not? Any clues?

~ Bruce

Dear Borders

Sorry Borders, but I can’t see myself shopping from you anymore. It’s not working.

You know, I used to snob you off once. Like the way cynical young lefties can be repelled by a Big Mac, I was repelled by you.

When I saw You’ve Got Mail, I wanted Meg Ryan to snap Tom Hanks’ neck when her character found out who her Internet boyfriend was. I was backing the underdog. I didn’t like mega-chain-stores.

But hey. That’s just me being a cynical lefty with pie-in-the-sky ideals. I had to snap back to reality at some point and Borders is part of the reality of anyone strolling down Rundle Mall looking for books.

Borders, when you first came to Adelaide, I knew that at least in the US you had a reputation for being a corporate pig. I knew about the way you shut down Michael Moore in the 1990s when he used the dirty word. “Union.”

I remember hearing in 2001 and 2002, the tales of Borders employees in the US who had been subjected to intimidation to coerce them against union activity. This isn’t the kind of stuff that endears you to someone who protested against the various “waves” of IR reforms brought out by Peter Reith only a few years earlier.

But hey. We have and had different IR laws here in Australia, even if it was Howard’s lot in power at the time. I could rationalise us getting closer.

And then the ladies started wanting to hang out at Borders. Like it was the movies or something.

I don’t know about fashionable hangouts, but I know what I like. Women.

So that’s how I was broken. Like some weak willed husband in denial about a kind of perverse mutual attraction with the neighbour’s wife, I let the flirting begin.

By 2003 I had weakened further. I started to go into Borders with people who’s names I can remember. My friends.

Apparently my friends didn’t get the missive about the IR concerns. They had however, checked the other bookstores for what they wanted first and their foray into Borders was only ever a single way-point between locales in a night out.

At this point, I’d never spent a cent. You hadn’t given me reason to. Then in 2006, with a younger brother about to get into Uni, I was on the lookout for Harry Frankfurt’s On Bullshit as a Christmas present. He’d enrolled in a degree in the humanities.

Dymocks in Rundle Mall didn’t have it in. So that’s how you got me to fess up some cash for the first time.

Dymocks, where I had bought most of my popular science books from back in the 1990s. Dymocks, where I bought Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment for my mother. Dymocks, who had an association with SBS as far back as when it was the best channel on telly (WTF were they thinking taking Des Mangan away from Saturday nights?) Dymocks, where I would browse the sci-fi and fantasy section with friends after school so long ago.

All it took was a moment of weakness and I jumped over the fence for a quicky with the neighbour’s wife – an analogy that only works if the neighbour’s wife is a corporate lawyer and my own wife is a super-sexy music teacher who practices cello in the nude.

All along the signs were there and screaming “NO! STOP! IT’S WRONG!”

One of the things in a relationship that I think is a benchmark of health is the way you prepare food for your loved ones. I love to cook for mine and if I couldn’t do it properly, I’d do what I could to minimise the consequences of my failed gastronomy.

Dymocks doesn’t try it. You have a Gloria Jean’s in store and even though I’ve never bought anything from them, the fact that they donate to Mercy Ministries leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Just seeing their little shop while looking for books is like passing through the kitchen on the way to the corporate lawyer’s bedroom and seeing a bottle of some harsh Nescafe roast.

At least this ugliness is at the back of the store and has nothing to do with the business that we’ve had. Back behind those escalators, those escalators that like the legs of a beautiful woman, lead up to… CDs, DVDs and non-fiction. That’s where you caught me the first time. Where I broke my fidelity.

But like all doomed affairs, there comes a point when the cheater is given a moment of pause. A pause to realise that what you are doing is wrong.

borders01It’s not just the lovely legs your escalators mimic, Borders. Your layout is probably the best of a bookstore anywhere in Adelaide. It’s very attractive. But Dymocks’ isn’t anything to turn your nose up at and besides, layout isn’t everything.

A few weeks ago I bought Dexter by Design by Jeff Lindsay, from you. Up until earlier this evening, it sat with receipt and the copy of Dubliners I also bought, when I decided to plonk them into a new bookshelf I’d recently purchased. It was then that I noticed that I’d been charged $36.50 for a book with a $21.99 sticker on it.

Now, I could probably take the book and the receipt back in and get the difference refunded. You might say that leaving you over a fifteen dollar discrepancy is a bit trite, which would be true if that’s what I’m on about.

Back in the mid-1990s, I met a girl at that wonderful music store of the time, Verandah Music. She led me up the stairs at the back, up to the vinyl section with me in tow… Jaw agape.

I wouldn’t turn my nose up at many a woman’s body, but from that angle she had one of the best layouts I have ever seen. Everything in the right proportion and positioned perfectly as if a sculptor had spent years in the decision making process.

Borders, your store layout and everything that you have got going for you is like her legs and arse. Beautiful.

Thinking everything was going fine, I went with her to the park lands. I opened a bottle of champagne, she lit up a joint and we relaxed and started to get to know each other (not in the biblical sense obviously – it was daylight.) Things inevitably gravitated to the topic of politics.

“The Port Arthur Massacre wouldn’t have happened if we all carried guns like they do in America”, she said…

Anyone in sympathy with my progressive leanings will, as I did, see this as somewhat of a facepalm moment. While I didn’t literally put my face in my palm (the little man in my Cartesian theatre did), I allowed things to progress politely while allowing my executive functions to successfully cockblock me.

Borders, that fifteen dollar discrepancy is the facepalm moment. The point at which I take a reality check and realise that I’ve been doing something very silly in seeing you behind Dymock’s back.

So I’m having to call an end to our affair. No more perusing that philosophy section to see if you have got a copy of The Critique of Pure Reason that doesn’t come with side-notes and explanations. No more impulse shopping while waiting to see if Shermer’s Denying History will make it to your shelf.

No more denial of why I avoided you in the first place.

I’m going back to Dymocks if she’ll still have me. For you and me, it’s over.

~ Bruce

Bruce Everett is an Adelaidian with odd tastes in books, who struggles in not giving in to corporatism and banal franchise while making his income stretch to accomodate his principles. He still struggles to live down his cheating on The Muses through his affair with JB HiFi down the other end of Rundle Mall.

Photo: Dutton Bay Jetty

If there’s anything I hold as a single sacred site, this spot has got to be an easy contender for the title.

dutton_bay

Dutton Bay Jetty (2003)

It’s a beautiful little spot, and a few, but as yet not quite too many sea changers have moved in with new abodes in the area.

It also has a lot of significance to my family. When my Dad was four years old, he jumped off of it and was lucky to be helped by a fisherman who happened to be there. My Dad ended up working for the Department of Marine and Harbors in the late 70s and early 80s, fixing jetties up the west coast of South Australia.

Dad was an excellent diver.

He and his siblings grew up in the area, and for the first few years of my life, so did I. I spent a bit of time in these waters as a little one myself.

The photo was taken in 2003, out back from Cliff Dobbins’ home. Cliff was a long time friend of the family and in the 80s was president of the Marble Range football club that my Dad trained under-17s for in the 70s. Sadly, both Cliff and his wife passed away only weeks after this photo was taken, surviving my father by only a few months.

2003 was a bad year for the family – my Grandmother on my Mother’s side also passing away in December.

About four months after the photo was taken, my Father’s ashes were spread from the Dutton Bay Jetty to join with those of an Uncle who’s ashes were also spread there.

My father, like his father before him, were fishermen in the area. But they were also custodians, not afraid to enter conflict with other fishermen who didn’t have the proper respect for the environment by over fishing or polluting the water and it seems fitting that my Father has been returned to the ecosystem that he grew up in.

Aside from the history my family has with the locale, going for a walk along the beach or down the jetty always precipitates contemplation, so I thought that it would make and appropriate title bar for a contemplative blog.

Before he passed away, Dad told my cousin that he’d protect her from sharks if she went for a swim here. I rather suspect that he was being poetic, but all the same I’d rather go for a swim here than other areas around the southern Eyre Peninsula. It’s a sheltered little bay and is a comforting distance from the tuna nets in Port Lincoln.

If you are ever in the area, be sure to get out of the car and have yourselves a stroll. There is a bed and breakfast by the jetty and The Woolshed museum is worth a look-in as well. 😉

~ Bruce

I blame Julie Bishop

I’m pretty sure that the Liberal rank and file wish the performance of their elected representatives were better. One need only look at the polls.

Heck, I’ve got friends in the Liberal party who are disgusted with the way the Howard Government and now the Turnbull opposition is spinning the stories of refugees.

If the Rudd Government’s softening of asylum seeker laws precipitates an influx of refugees from the middle east simply by occurring in sequence (post hoc ergo propter hoc – it’s a fallacy!), then I guess it also precipitated the increases in refugees from the Middle East seeking asylum elsewhere in the world. I’m sure any time now EU nations are going to be filling up the message bank of Kirribilli House, screaming “RUDD! Look at what you’ve done! Your weak stance on immigration is filling Europe with an Islamic horde (and some oppressed Middle Eastern Christians who don’t have the same scare value)!”

In case you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic. That was a reductio ad absurdum.

Considering how stupid this line of “reasoning” (my apologies to reason for the smear) being deployed by the right wing, pseudo-intelligentsia of the MSM and Australian Liberal Party is, I feel I really need to spell these things out. Please be patient – some of the people reading this post may not be as smart or as sane as you are.

That being said, with public opinion at about 36% of Australians believing this xenophobic delusion (the last time I checked), it’s probably not a state of emergency in as far as popular racism goes. Whatever the refugees are fleeing from probably entails an emergency (if I lived in Afghanistan, I’d be trying to get my family out!) and for the blithering, bumbling, flailing, trite, vexatious, intellectually barren Australian right, it’s a PR emergency. Australians should be humane about the former and merely unsympathetically self-interested about the latter (bad opposition makes bad governance easier after all.)

I’m happy to delay judgement on the current wave of asylum seekers until more is known and due process takes its course (and for the process to be subject to critique.) The debate is in no reasonable need of being rushed, at least not from any perspective other than perhaps those of and those sympathetic to the refugees (and even then, the general public isn’t in possession of the details to have a properly informed sympathy yet.)

In Neil’s words, people should hold their horses.

I’m not happy about all the hysteria (and I guess in a way, I’m regurgitating this hysteria on to you in the form of inflamed rhetoric – my half-felt apologies.)

Getting to my actual point…

I’m a carer and aside from being the kind of guy who cares about people (which makes all this stupidity all the more offensive), I’m a guy who needs his sleep. I can be, and have been kept awake all sorts of hours and naturally, when I do get to sleep, it’s bloody important.

So when a friend, who has acknowledged my sleeping patterns twice this week and woke me up at roughly the same time last Thursday night (twelve minutes later to be more precise), gets so excited that their critical faculties give way and they just have to ring me up and raise me from my valuable slumber, I’m going to get a bit pissed off. After only one hour of sleep, with drool running down my chin, I pick up the phone to be bombarded with a few excited paragraphs worth of “I just had to tell someone”, “Q&A”, “Julie Bishop”, “stupid”, “Ha!Ha!”, “OMG!”, “P. J. O’Rourke”, “real intellectual”, “Bishop”, “desperate”, “spin”, “pathetic.”

To be honest, I knew this stuff from the moment Julie Bishop dismissed informed educational philosophy as mere leftist ideology, claimed a sensible centre (as if the shifting political centre is necessarily sensible*), hyperbolised the history of Mao into mangled metaphor and pretended her academic proto-putsche was more than just a recycling of Howard’s ideologically motivated (and woefully unpopular) attack on values education in public schools.

So you can understand then that I don’t want to be woken up to be told something I already know. It took me over two hours to get back to sleep.

But such is the resounding strength of Bishop’s bombastic brand of cynical political point scoring, that it can echo into my most restful of states via the people who get contaminated by it. This is some seriously toxic crap.

Of course, this particular breed of political point scoring is designed to get past people’s critical reasoning (presumably to tap into their fears – which hasn’t worked for the Libs in a number of years) by means of emotional excitation – which explains both the enthusiastic schadenfreude of my friend overcoming rather obvious telecommunicative sensibilities, and the foam at the mouth of uncritical consumers of fine, paranoid screed.

I’m sure the former wasn’t intended by Julie Bishop. Nobody likes being laughed at after all. But I do hold her responsible – as I do for all contributions to Australian culture our politicians and media outlets make.

This crap the likes of Bishop put out is toxic. Not just xenophobic-toxic but bad-faith, anti-reason, anti-intellectual, anti-human-toxic. The selfish tantrums of a political movement with a massive sense of entitlement, yet none of the qualities to earn it – naturally divorced from realising how detrimental these tantrums are to the broader culture they are supposed to serve.

I don’t actually blame Julie Bishop of course. Her conduct as an MP is the problem of Australian right-wing discourse in a microcosm and in as far as she’s been an enabler of xenophobia, she has merely been actioning un-self-enlightened, inept opportunism. That I can say “merely” is testimony to the detriment of Howard’s contribution to our culture, which Bishop can only take crib notes from.

As was the case with Costello’s appropriation of Howard’s Muslim menace, and is the case with Malcolm Turnbull’s recent dog whistle politics. Howard could sell this crap to the Australian centre in a way his impersonators can’t, in a large part because of the fact that he could sell it to himself. Watching Turnbull and Bishop try to do the same while holding on to their fleeting integrity is pathetic to watch.

I want to shake the Liberal party. To yell at them, “Look at what you’ve done to Malcolm!”

Back in the 1990s, Malcolm Turnbull was a major contributor to Australian political thought. Unconstrained by caucus, he could tell you what he thought and the man clearly wasn’t a moron. Then came talk of a parliamentary career and subsequent pre-selection (the politics of the latter still showing signs of Turnbull’s integrity.)

Then compromise. Compromise with a bickering pack of spoiled political brats who had previously kept a lid on things out of a superstitious need to keep Howard in place like some kind of good luck charm. A superstition they don’t seem to extend to their subsequent leaders – and thus any aspirational party leader had better be prepared to be embalmed in right wing bile and preserved for all history in a state of compromised integrity. Even many in the Labor party have been similarly denatured.

Of course, the bile never used to flow through Howard. He was embalmed long beforehand and like the Curse of the Mummy, to this day doesn’t realise that he’s dead yet.

No. Caught in the gastric tubing of the Liberal party like some malignant polyp as Howard was, the bile had to flow some other way. Through the Liberal apparatchik of the mainstream media. News Ltd in particular. I’m not going to speculate on what gastric orifice they represent.

I could name names of those with conveniently timed opinion pieces that were coincidentally harmonious with as yet unreleased Howard government political statements. I could even point to the right-wing recipients of conveniently leaked government documents.

Many of you can probably reel off a list of names yourself. Between The Hun, The Tele and The Ostrayun there are quite a few.

But that’s not my point. My point isn’t what they are but what they aren’t. Where is the Australian right’s P.J. O’Rourke?

The Australian left is by far the better producer of political satire, but even they would have their hands full with the likes of O’Rourke. O’Rourke is intellectually honest – he says what he thinks and doesn’t whore himself to The Party. He’s rather witty and far fairer to his interlocutors than anything the Australian right ever cooked up. That I think he’s deeply wrong on things like abortion and stem-cell research and that I can’t endorse his libertarianism, nor the inability of the Cato Institute (of which O’Rourke is a prominent member) to recognise global warming denialism for what it is, matters not a bit to this estimation.

Imagine Adams versus O’Rourke. Imagine a Chaser stunt failing to ensnare him.

Imagine debate between Marr and O’Rourke on the most polarising topic you can imagine.

Can you see Bob Ellis going toe-to-toe with O’Rourke? Do Leunig’s limp caricatures wilt even more at the prospect of competing with O’Rourke’s critique?

At best, the Australian right has produced pseudo-intellectual hacks and try hard satirists who at best may be able to convince themselves and their uncritical fans that they are some kind of O’Rourke. They are no such thing. We wouldn’t need to import American opinion if they were.

Instead we are left with a broken political right, spraying pent-up venom on all and sundry, trying desperately to score a hit on those that they feel are responsible for the loss of their entitlements.

This insipid, anti-intellectual, toxic crap has flowed from the Liberal party, through the right wing media and into almost every corner of Australian culture causing untold damage in mostly as-yet unrealised ways. We are all the poorer for it. Even those of us that agree with the specific policy positions of the Howardista of yore and the current, impotent incarnation.

People are less thoughtful as a result of it. People become less considerate when subjected to it. It doesn’t have to be xenophobic to be harmful – the sheer spite and stupidity of it is sufficient to incite people to a less than beneficial excitation.

Which is probably why and where I should leave this topic. It’s not worth my or your attention and unless you’ve had a laugh, you’ve just wasted a good part of your time reading this. It sure wasn’t worth my getting out of bed for!

Julie Bishop, thanks a heap!

~ Bruce

P.S. You can catch the Q&A action here.

* Seriously, if you had on one side, a NAZI political population that wanted to wipe out all Jews and on the other hand a political population that said that the ethnic cleansing of a single Jew is unacceptable, you would tell me that wiping out half of the Jewish population is a sensible compromise? Clearly (at least not to anti-Semites), the polar position of no ethnic cleansing is the sensible position. No centre of a political continuum can be automatically sensible! This senseless centrism and the accompanying sanctimony is really starting to annoy me.

‘Liberated’, my foot!

It now appears as if it is going to be legal for husbands to rape their wives in Afghanistan.

Thanks to the Shia Family Act. (Thanks for the link, R.)

Note to future administrations bent on toppling theocracies that harbour militants who don’t like you so much…

1) Install separation of Church and State in their new constitution.

2) Accept submissions to a constitutional convention from the locals, but ditch them if they can’t be reconciled with secular democracy – it’s stuff like that that got them in a mess in the first place.

3) Install recognition of separation of church and state (and other rights protecting values) in a suitably minimal oath of allegiance (unlike the arbitrary crap Australia puts in the test it expects immigrants to sit.)

4) Give citizenship to those taking the oath and second class status to those that don’t* (if they don’t prefer secular democracy, don’t foist it upon them!)

5) Don’t call it a liberation if it isn’t.

And get this stuff properly planned before going to war or don’t go to war in the first place. It’s not that hard and it’s not as if every Muslim on the face of the Earth can’t operate within a secular democracy anyway (weren’t the hawkish neo-cons the ones accusing the anti-war left of patronising the middle east by claiming it can’t handle democracy? What happened? Why is this religious oppression able to be passed into law?)

~ Bruce

* Not meaning without rights altogether – just without associative and voting rights. Access to food and water, shelter and a life free from torture and the like should still obviously be values recognised by the occupant nation(s).

Growing right-wing discontent

If there’s one thing that defines the totalitarian right, it’s an overwhelming sense of entitlement. Being born into a country, into a class/caste/sect or into a particularly coloured skin (othering criteria being whatever is the most self-serving and/or to coincide with established totalitarian tradition) entitles you to a whole heap of opportunities that The Others aren’t.

One of the most basic demands of the totalitarian right is that entitlements are beyond criticism, often followed by the paradoxical expectation that the totalitarian right-winger is a free-thinker. A participant in a absolutely free market of ideas. Right-wing totalitarianism could hardly be seen as having prowess if it wasn’t seen to perform in such a light.

But it doesn’t perform. Genetic fallacy, hasty induction, argument from tradition, argument from authority, argumentum ad baculum – and that’s just some of the fallacies. Don’t get me started on the cognitive biases (particularly the out-group ones) or the flakiness of the objectification of the identity of Others. Right-wing totalitarianism is rife with shoddy thinking.

Usually when one calls a racist person, or a racist idea, racist, they to varying extent allude to these kinds of intellectual short-comings or at least to the sordid psychological motivations behind them. Not always, but usually.

Occasionally, “that’s just racist” is used to shut people up. It happens to scientists studying the human genome for example, who have no such motivation and who’s only crime is to make some anti-science bigot feel insecure.

But the average right wing totalitarian is far from being your average geneticist. Usually they are looking a convenient Other to blame for their own failures or lack of opportunity and let’s face it, geneticists aren’t people you could call failures or deprived of opportunity.

The right-wing totalitarian is mediocre in all but the grandeur of its delusions.

Continue reading “Growing right-wing discontent”

Sunday Stroll #1

Went for a walk this weekend, as I often do when I get a bit of free time and the weather is nice. I reckon when I do, I’m going to take a few snaps from now on and post them on the odd Sunday. I think I’ll skip the details and let people guess or question them in the comments.

Time to work out this gallery feature in WordPress.

~ Bruce

Virtuous hedonism

If I were the kind of guy to worship a God, I’d worship Bacchus. Sundays wouldn’t be spent drinking the communion wine, just wine-wine.

I spent a dollar or two on wine in the second half of the nineties, when my hedonistic streak hit in 1996. More wine that I’ve drunk since the nineties.

I also like a good beer. Brewed more in the nineties than I have since the nineties as well.

Now I average less than a standard drink a day and I don’t think I’ve passed four in a day more than five times in the last ten years. But this isn’t some creeping conservatism on my part. No.

I genuinely don’t enjoy getting plastered. What I enjoy is the slightest, initial hint of alcohol in the system and what the beverage can bring to a social or gastronomic event.

Well considered hedonism wasn’t something I really had at the time. Ad hoc, faux-considered hedonism was. I reached the conclusion first and then engaged in some pretty superficial, instrumental reasoning to distract my executive functions from cock-blocking me.

However, persistent critical faculties and an increase in the myelin sheathing in my frontal lobe (something that finishes developing in the mid-twenties) gradually put an end to this self-deception. There was more to hedonism that just screwing everything in sight and drinking yourself into a stupor and if I wanted to get my head around it, I’d have to start conserving a few braincells.

You’ve been lucky, or living on another planet, or both, if you haven’t noticed that quite a large number of religious people frown on this kind of behaviour. In as far as rampant hedonism can cause harm, I’m sympathetic. The categorical objections, hellfire and brimstone however can go and take a flying leap.

I’ve never been an egoist, it should be said. It’s usually at this point in the discussion, that you’ll (if you are an atheist) have the occasional religionist associate your ethics with that of Ayn Rand. Even if you have more in common with say, John Stuart Mill (a utilitarian and dare I say, an actual philosopher.)

Whenever my pleasure, or the pleasure of my group has been at the expense of others, it’s been as a result of thoughtlessness. This was more a problem in my youth than it is now. That harmful externalities (loud noise past the neighbour’s bedtime and the like) weren’t good things wasn’t in dispute – they just went un-noticed. I suspect that this is the case for a lot of young yahoos.

I’m not selfish with my pleasure. I cook for people, for example. I share creativity in general with the aim of maximising pleasure. Nowadays, I do so with the aim of first avoiding the afore mentioned harmful externalities.

I think a few of Nietzsche’s assessments of the human condition are flawed in these respects. The things that he asserted were life-affirming on a primal level, I’ve never found life-affirming. And I think I’ve been a tad more primal that Nietzsche.

I don’t gain pleasure in subjugating people. I don’t see pleasure in others in being subjugated and I have a visceral objection to seeing other people subjugated – it’s not just slave morality that sees me looking out for others. Not that I deny what Nietzsche felt, rationally I object to it and the animal in me objects to it.

What I think Nietzsche’s error was, was to generalize his own imperatives the way Freud generalized his own sexual peculiarities to the entire human condition. The primal imperatives of the human condition are far more diverse, subjective and elusive than that.

Sexuality is a great example. Some people are attracted to members of the opposite sex, others to people of the same sex and some people aren’t particularly sexual beings at all. And within these divisions (and others) there are a multitude of other preferences for various sources of pleasure. A virtuous hedonism, as opposed to a self-deluded one, takes all of this into account.

When I worked at a deli in Norwood during the early years of this decade, there was this repeat customer who really got on my nerves. She was the stereotypical pretty girl that supposedly all the guys like. While she was in some respects a nice young lady (she was also at times a very noisy neighbour) and capable of eliciting quite a bit of sympathy from me, I actually found her quite sexually repugnant.

Aside from not being attracted to her that way (I find living stereotypes of all sorts rather unappealing), she quite unwittingly had the body language of someone who took entitlement (to men) for granted – cornering me rather aggressively a few times and otherwise not giving me my space, this annoying, incessant crotch-staring habit and the occasional but rather obvious barging in between me and other females. So when eventually I objected (which in terms of workplace sexual harassment I felt I was rather entitled to do – the crotch-staring was a bit much), she couldn’t quite get her head around the notion that I didn’t find her attractive and had to (self-deludedly) contort things to fit her narrative of men finding her attractive.

Suffice to say it ended with acrimony*. Reminds me of how Ayn Rand went off the deep end when she found out that her lover Nathaniel Branden, found the younger Patrecia Scott more attractive.

Sometimes people just don’t find you sufficiently attractive. It doesn’t matter to them that you find you attractive.

It’s like that with food and drink, music and the visual arts (and more.) A virtuous hedonism is permissive of peculiarity while seeing suffering as the only true perversion of the human condition.

Unaffected atheists clearly have an advantage over theists in accessing this virtuous hedonism, not carrying the same metaphysical baggage (i.e. sin.) Not that a theist necessarily can’t, nor do so easily – at best they fall superficially short of the same ease atheists can achieve the more superficial the differences in ethics become.

The same may not be true for a number of ex-fundamentalist theist, atheists. Not that I’ve ever had the experience of a religious enculturation, but I’m convinced by the tales of people who are still influenced by the spectre of hell even after refuting its existence.

All I’ve ever been able to rebel against in religion is the socio-political privilege it seeks and often attains (which I suspect is more obvious the less your religious enculturation), religion has never had that kind of control over me. I suspect though, that rebellion is still the answer.

Conservative Catholicism is particularly guilty of reducing atheism to rebellion against God, while at the same time finding their imaginary hell insufficiently harmful, venturing to create it on Earth through all sorts of insane sexual restrictions. Atheism isn’t rebellion, but rebellion against religiously motivated suffering is probably quite healthy behaviour for affected ex-theist atheists (and probably for newly moderate theists as well.)

Really, you are coming from a pretty sick place if you can find fault in people wanting to keep the Pope’s (or anyone else’s) liver-spotted hands off their genitals.

A virtuous, life-affirming quest to find and give pleasure is one of those things I think atheists need to give serious consideration before they check out of this fleeting existence.

~ Bruce

* In all fairness though, I think through my creative, generous and then mutating bakkheia, more than a couple of women (and at least one guy) got the impression that I was attracted to them when I wasn’t. This and a fair amount of beating around the bush not wanting to tell people the straight-out awful truth that I don’t actually like them that much, probably served to confuse the situation.

Reflections on a few points about my resignation…

My recent open resignation from the ALP has two groups of recipients.

There is the small group of administrative staff and anyone in the party office who is interested, that makes up the formal recipients. The signed copy of my resignation is still in the mail to them, along with an additional PS pointing out that there were a few hundred reads of the on-line version at the time of signing off.

Then there is the Internet using public – you. A lot of you, at least going by the usual amount of traffic that comes to this blog. My most popular post is one addressing a creationist canard about “new information” not arising from mutation and the misrepresentation of Richard Dawkins to pretend they had him stumped.  That’s at about 1460 views after seventeen months – this isn’t a high profile blog. My resignation seems on the cusp of passing the 1000 mark, probably within the next couple of hours and it hasn’t even been up for 48 hours.

I’m a bit gobsmacked. Ordinary figures for the big blogs, but not for this one!

Of course, it’s not all about me, nor is it that people have just gone and discovered my blog. There was a particular political issue and an opportunity to send a message to the government. An issue that clearly people care about.

I’ve received quite a bit of kudos over this, both in the comments and at forums and the like where the post has been cited but I think that there are plenty of pats on the back to go around. People have thanked me for making a stand, I thank people for caring about our democracy. That’s the way we keep it working after all!

Now, on to a few of the points people have raised here, there and everywhere. I’m not going to be able to respond to everyone, but I’ve noticed some similarities in people’s concerns so hopefully I can get a nice spread of the issues.

From the comments on the post

Paul writes: “Either the ALP becomes a social progressive party again as they were under the likes of Whitlam and Dunstan or the Liberals ditch social conservatism and become a true liberal party.

I think there is a Keating criticism of the then Liberal opposition, that I think is applicable to Labor and indeed the way politics is done these days. “No framework of policy, no philosophical binding… Just a whole lot of mish-mash, unconnected motions.” – Paul Keating responding to a censure motion (1994).

Piecemeal, Popperian reform has a whole lot more going for it than what we have now, and what the Howard years offered. At least Popperian piecemeal can address established, discrete problems of large magnitude (through reform rather than revolution – which is the point). Take Labor on emissions goals and promised broadband – it’s not that they are impossible goals or that the party is too broad a church to cooperate, it’s just that there are no underlying, pervasive, recognised principals of governance to guide the party in getting its act together.

After all the navel gazing of 1998-2004, one would have hoped that the party had this worked out already. But no.

Michael writes: “The Newton episode demanded some sort of slap on the wrist, which suggests Rudd fully agreed with the way it was done.

I’m not sure that one can draw that conclusion, but I think at least one can say that the PM sees fit to trade off an act of principled leadership for some other political end. Which of course is also entirely unacceptable. I’d suspect political cowardice before full agreement.

Dennis writes: “A mandatory censorship is merely a form of “guilty until proven innocent”. The whole country is treated like a bunch of criminals in order to curtail a disproportionate minority of individuals who abuse it.”

Or if you really want to get down to the nitty gritties, prone to Type I error. Which I rather strongly suspect is an epistemological shortcoming of many of Conroy’s (and Fielding’s) supporters.

Lesley Dewar writes: “I have published a post that shows the complete absurdity of the Clean Feed rules.  It would have the site from which I sourced the link BANNED… Australians have the right to view these pictures and to appreciate this art.”

Banned unless people opt out of the voluntary tier, or if the involuntary tier becomes more restrictive which is of course a possibility. I suggest people do go and have a look at Lesley’s link. Some very nice photography. Well worth your time.

Gorgon writes: “Now we have the option to vote freely…”

I’ve always voted freely. And spoken perhaps freely to the point of carelessness. I can remember being at a location of polling in an electorate where Labor had done deals with Family First, and I guess I, in my ALP gear, spoke too freely with the Greens advocate about how crap Family First were in front of voters all day. In front of silently fuming Family First members (or Paradise Community Church draftees at any rate) as well. All entirely unintentional of course. 😉

I accidentally (ahem) didn’t follow the ALP how-to-vote card either.

Angus Grogan wrote: “Fantastic work Bruce, Labor = history.”

I don’t know about that. I think the philosophically bankrupt nature of the party at large will cause it some woes in future, and likely shorten its tenure in government, but the party is monolithic. Indeed, the Howard Government lasted twelve years in power with an incoherent political philosophy, through opportunity, dirty politik and the appearance of cohesion under their leader (when really they were a powder keg of volatile ideologues held together under pressure – and how they have exploded!)

There are a few good eggs in the ALP still though, who unlike me are in a position to make some difference in the quality of political thought within the party. But I can see their work being frustrated by a party that for the most part, doesn’t get what its own culture has become and doesn’t get what problems it faces. I wish them luck!

From a few comments abroad…

Mike at Whirlpool writes: “My compliments to Bruce for a well written and passionate posting relating to his feelings as to how the A.L.P. is performing. As a member myself I can understand why he feels that he must resign from the party.

I have only one question for him and others of the same ilk.

Can we do more to rectify this idiocy from within or from the sidelines?”

I won’t name them, I don’t know if that would be doing them any favours, but there are people in the Australian Labor Party that I very much want to stay there. People of intellectual substance and influence in the party. People with the ability to influence the direction the party takes.

They currently don’t have the ascendance in the party, but they have time. Let’s hope they don’t get worn down!

I like to think I’m a person of intellectual substance, but I know I don’t have the capacity to help the party from within at least not as much as a can from the sidelines. This is in part because of my abstinence from the formal side of the ALP and also because of the specific way in which the party compromises the way I operate.

Not that my objective is to help the ALP. My objective is to do my little bit to help the country and make the world a better place. Previously, some of this was done through the party but that’s obviously no longer tenable for me.

In answer to Mike’s question, I think it’s a case of recognising why you are political active, then asking in what way you can best reach those goals (without in the process inadvertently betraying them) – in or out of the party.

In response to people who have found their way to my open resignation post via Reddit, I say…

Thanks for the kudos, and your concern on the issue is to be applauded, however I’m not, nor have I ever been a politician! Though wouldn’t it be nice if a Labor senator was to resign in the senate over our concerns! Or at least a revolt from the backbenches.

Fhew! Okay, I’m beat! Feel free to continue the discussion without me for a while!

Thanks again, folks.

~ Bruce

P.S. Oh, and before I go I’d better start waving the flag!


No Clean Feed - Stop Internet Censorship in Australia