MINDLESS MUSINGS

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  • THE GREAT LAND GRAB: Rise of The Tycoons #21

    The finale of the 1992 film Far and Away depicts Joseph participating in the “Land Run of 1893”. Joseph was a dirt-poor Irish immigrant, and the moment he plants his flag into the ground is a moment of great joy for him and his beloved Shannon. They have claimed this land as their own and with hard work they just might make a go of it. Victory!

    I’m not saying THEY stole any land per se, but it was stolen land that they ‘won’. In simple terms the US government was running a competition and the prizes being offered were the spoils of invasion and genocide. The desperate competitors would have scarcely considered the plight of the native people; they were too busy trying to lift themselves out of the muck; trying to put a little distance between themselves and abject poverty.

    Extra irony points go to a former Irish peasant participating in the contest. A man who would have had personal experience with being subjugated and cheated by the British was now celebrating his piece of the booty pilfered by the very same tyrants! Fucked up shit man.

    I suppose that is as good a place to start as any, as I try to unpack the scourge of colonisation that engulfed much of the world. It was always a thing, but with the advances in naval technology this obsession of expansion was now able to cross oceans.

    Explorers were globetrotting across the high seas trying to make a name for themselves. “Discovering” new lands was a good way to secure yourself fame and fortune. Most of that was about self-promotion for the explorers and scientists who made the big finds, rather than conquest. It was what the powers that be did with the information brought back that caused all the misery.

    “So, you are telling me there is an entire island with no inhabitants?”

    “Well, there are some people lurking about, but they are primitive”

    “Are they human?”

    “Sort of, but they’re scattered and their weapons are crap”

    “Do they have houses and castles and shit?”

    “No”

    “What about agriculture and a functioning economy? Have they even heard of Jesus Christ?”

    “Ah, no sir”

    “We better send some people to have a closer look”

    On closer inspection it was decided that these ‘backwards’ people were wasting the potential of this unspoiled land and that it would be best for them to step aside and let progress take its course. All those pristine lands, waterways and resources, just sitting there being barely molested; only the slightest exploitation. Disgusting! These people are squandering their environment! Let’s get over there and show them how to squeeze the maximum profit out of every asset.

    Settlers start tentatively trickling in at first. In some kind of dark cosmic joke, the natives often helped these pioneers survive their first year/s in these alien landscapes; only to be completely over run when the trickle bursts into a relentless stream. If the entire group of first settlers perished, it would have at least slowed things down a bit. The influx was inevitable though, tragically.

    One thing the natives could never have comprehended was the enormous population the European continent contained. A great majority living in squalor and/or under some form of persecution. These people were willing to risk their dismal existence in a shithole for even the slimmest chance of a better life.

    Another common misconception I notice when colonisation is discussed is that all the invaders made it rich. Yes, many people made fortunes from the rape and pillage of these new found lands. However, the vast majority were just starving plebs trying to escape horrendous living conditions. Sounds eerily familiar to present circumstances, doesn’t it?

    Those rich landowners, ranchers and all the other moguls were just the latest batch of opportunists taking advantage of the heist. They rode on the backs of the unwashed masses just as their forebears had. Their money and influence were useless without the dutiful poor people striving for a better life. What better way to conquer land than sending steadfast colonists in search of new homes on ‘uninhabited’ country. These hopeful homesteaders overwhelmed the native population like a plague of locusts.

    The sheer weight of numbers was provided by the mass of sheep, not the foxes and lions. As always, the one’s on top convinced the many on the bottom to do the dirty work. Throw them some crumbs and they’re satisfied. These were the soldiers who fought and died; the pilgrims and settlers who ventured into new territories, risking life and livelihood in the hope of a new start. With the military might of the empires backing them up and practically endless replacements they were unstoppable.

    Most of the big-shots came in after the smoke settled and sat themselves at the head of the table. Even if they were the pioneer once and that made their fortune; I’d wager any further expansion of their dynasty was headed by someone on a salary. Only the rare Richard Branson trailblazer types would continue the escapades.

    As for the monarchs and aristocrats back in Europe, they just sat there in their opulence giving orders and taking tributes. It was the up and comers who took the punt and became pioneers; ambitious social climbers with designs on making it big.

    Those monarchs and new land barons rode on the backs of the throng. Their coffers grew fatter from the blood, sweat and death of the downtrodden. These hopeful schmucks gambled their and their family’s lives expanding an empire. Many got a fresh new start in an unspoiled land; many others perished.

    The British, Spanish, French, Dutch and Portuguese were so focused on beating each other to claim land, the natives were not more than another obstacle to overcome. There were rules for this colonisation contest, but being created by the empires, the indigenous populations were just part of the game, they were not invited to play.

    More on that and other uplifting tales of humanity to come.

  • LOVE THE LYRICS

    This thread is pretty self-explanatory. Like most people, I have an endless soundtrack running in my head. All the songs I have heard throughout my life are in there and can be triggered at any moment by something obviously attached to it, or maybe some bizarre connection I will never figure out.

    A lot of it is melodies and music I just find myself whistling or humming. Just as much is lyrics; songs I have heard so many times I know them word for word. Or at least I think I do. If I find that I have imprinted the wrong word in my version of the lyrics, it can be very fucken difficult to rectify. Even when it is obvious that the word I was using was ridiculous and the correct word makes much more sense, that sucker is just burned into my mental hard drive.

    Bit of trivia for you: You know how humans used poems and songs to pass stories along through generations? Did it hit you? I only heard about it less than a year ago myself! We all know hundreds of songs word for word (mostly); but more than that, we also remember the melody, the tempo, the lot. Almost as reliable as having it written down!

    Anyway, this thread will be for those lyrics that I need to say a little something about. Some can be slotted into another post and speak for themselves. The lyrics just fit so well with what I was trying to say. Others never seem to fit properly, or I reckon will take me-too far-off track if I insert them. I like to keep the posts brief and even then, I can waffle on. I don’t need any more temptation.

    Which leads me to the first post for this thread. I couldn’t add these lyrics and simply leave them there. I love the double meaning but explaining it in the other post would have been a segway too far.

    So here we go:

    “There’s a rich man sleeping on a golden bed

    There’s a skeleton choking on a crust of bread”

    For most of my life I’ve loved the contrast between ridiculous wealth and devastating poverty in these two lines. It says so much with so little and until not long ago that was it. Every time I heard them, I had the image of the two extremes in my mind and felt awe at how a few words could convey an idea so well.

    That was until a few years ago when I read about the King Midas connection. It fits just as perfectly and hits a different point just as brilliantly!

    Everything King Midas touched turned to gold – wonderful! Until you have the horrific realisation that gold may be a valuable metal and having this ‘gift’ will obviously make you insanely rich, but EVERYTHING you touch turns to gold; you don’t get to choose.

    That golden bed might look really flashy, but I don’t thing it would be very comfortable. The whole fucken bed too, remember; not just the frame. The mattress, the pillows and the blankets – that’s fucked!

    Obviously, the line borrows a lot of its clout from the myth, but for anyone who catches on it offers such a vivid new concept and that’s just one line.

    The next line is real kick in the guts. The skeleton is King Midas himself! The poor bastard cannot eat because food must touch his mouth for him to receive any nutrients. This guy is rich beyond all imagination, and the very source of that wealth is slowly starving him to death!

    He’s choking on a fucken golden crust of bread!

    Two lines from a song with two very different interpretations; both hitting their mark dead centre – Fucking awesome!

  • CORPORATE CONFUSION: Let’s Get Political

    Q) How do you know when a politician is lying?

    A) Their lips are moving

    We’ve all heard that one, I’m sure. I’ve got one with a slight twist:

    Q) Why aren’t there any honest politicians?

    A) Because who would vote for them.

    Not as witty as the first, but just as true. If a politician got up and told us that there was no possible way to fix the mess we are all in, especially within the three or four years they get in office, we would be horrified! Like a huge ship, you cannot turn an economy around in a short time and little room. The moment you get into office you are handed the keys to a battered vessel being held together with duct tape and chewing gum.

    For a little while you get to blame the previous crew for their mishandling of things during their time in charge. They will probably counter by blaming you for doing the same before they got to the helm. This keeps the mud from sticking for a little while at least.

    Eventually you will be expected to have all your ducks in a row (looks like we’re going with a nautical thing here) and set the course for your bold new vision. You’ve only got about three years left at this stage, so it can’t be anything that takes too long before you get results. Pull into port for repairs? Absolutely not! This baby must keep moving like a shark (they just keep coming!) or we will perish.

    Promises and grand announcements can keep the masses calm for a while, but without tangible results you are sunk. First, you have to figure out the right promises to make; that’s a fucken mine field! Every good cause, has a rival cause that need more help than that other cause:

    “Youth crime is at epidemic levels! We will be doing all we can to stop this scourge!”

    “What about domestic violence?”

    “Well, of course we will be allocating resources to…”

    “Oh, allocating resources, not doing all you can”

    “What about the plight of the indigenous community? You heartless bastards”

    “That is our number one priority”

    “Which one?”

    “All of them. Bad stuff. We will be doing everything within our power to stop bad stuff from happening.”

    “That sounds kind of vague”

    “FUCK!!!”

    Of course, the whole time this is happening, you will have the opposition members talking shit about your plans. “Too little, too late”, “doesn’t go far enough”, or to really stir the pot they might even dig up another cause you missed and denigrate your lack of action there.

    “This government is too soft in its war on illegal drugs, terrorism, child abuse! Yeah, child abuse! Those fuckers don’t even care about our children!”

    Next you need to prepare for the 20/20 hindsight salvo if anything goes wrong.

    “This government was so busy running around ticking boxes and pleasing interest groups that they never even bothered to put together an emergency plan for a wombat straying onto the Princes Highway, causing a massive pile up, which in turn ignited a horrendous bush fire! Our party has had a 7-step plan for just this kind of occurrence.”

    “Never would have happened if we were in charge”

    “What?”

    “Whatever”

    Imagine a political website where each minister has to explain their portfolio and what they plan to do. A 3-hour PowerPoint presentation on the scope of their responsibilities along with the major departments and other entities under their authority. Next, they will lay out what the previous minister handed over and what changes they plan to make.

    If anyone is still watching after all that, they will be faced with the stark reality of what happens next. Corruption and incompetence aside, there are only so many resources available. As much as this minister may wish to solve all the ills occurring under their influence, there will need to be compromises and there will inevitably be shortfalls.

    “There are no solutions, only trade-offs.”

    Thomas Sowell

    Go one step further and open it up to the opposition and allow them to reply with their own ideas; on the record, BEFORE we see the results of the policies getting introduced. No Monday’s Expert chiming in after the outcome is known.

    Imagine a politician firing back at a passionate mental health advocate who is demanding more be done to combat depression and suicide:

    “I hear your concern, but there is only so much money in my budget. Would you like me to take money from the breast cancer coffers?”

    I know that is a very flippant example, but it is also a horrible decision that needs to be made. There is not enough to go around and there are countless good causes that deserve assistance. Again, I won’t complicate matters with profiteering and other unscrupulous practices that undoubtedly go on and make these choices that much more difficult. In the end, there is never enough and people need to fight for their share of the pie – tragic but true.

    Any cause a politician backs is ignoring innumerable others and only a handful of those will even get their complaints heard. Now imagine a polly getting up and saying something akin to: “life stinks and all I can do is spray a little deodorant for you guys while I’m here”. This is based on an upstanding character, mind you, let us not forget that a career politician accepted the ugliness and double-speak long ago. They joined the game knowing it mostly fixed and their only concern is improving their own living standards.

    Those lot use deception like a musician uses their instrument. Telling lies IS the job. Keep the voters happy or angry at someone/thing else and keep REALITY obscured. In that sense the original gag at the start of this post is funny way of stating a fact.

    Either way, a politician must choose their words extremely fucking carefully. Lying, exaggerating, playing down, omitting and any other ruses are essential tools for survival. You cannot take advantage of political office if you are booted out.

  • MUSINGS ON THE JOB ABOUT THE JOB: Someone Has to do it #2

    “That Health & Safety Representative is fucken useless!”

    “Our union delegate only gives a shit about stuff that affects him”

    More common gripes that could make you rich if you got a few bob every time you heard them. Always easy to pass judgement from the sidelines. Another one that would build a nice little nest egg (probably would need a few dollars per time to make it worthwhile though) is the one where I suggest that I nominate the complainant for the position in the next meeting and am met with a super swift “fuck that!”

    Everybody knows these are thankless jobs that add responsibility and stress for, not just no reward, but harsh criticism and even hostility! You step up and make yourself a target for management and a whipping boy for all the ills of the workplace. On top of that you are expected to go into battle for people who are calling you a useless bastard, or even a corrupt one! Why wouldn’t you take whatever cream comes your way?

    I suppose that is where the slippery slope begins. At first, you get a few little perks; maybe a cushier job, or a little more overtime. Nothing is asked for in return. Then the time comes where you are in on a little secret and asked to withhold it to keep things running smooth. Sooner or later, you are turning a blind eye to violations, and in the end, you become part of the company’s propaganda machine; actively spreading misinformation and conveniently “forgetting” member complaints and withholding information that might damage the business.

    That is an extreme fall from grace though. Unless of course you were a skunk from the get-go and what can I say? If nobody else puts their hand up, we get what we deserve; much like a shonky town sheriff.

    A few things we need to remember before passing judgement:

    • Anyone can be nominated and voted in. If the current delegate/rep has no opposition, we have no choice.
    • Legislation has changed a hell of a lot and unions have nowhere near as much power as the “good ol’ days”. A lot of member grievances are about liberty’s no longer being tolerated because the union can no longer call a strike at the drop of a hat.
    • The business model has changed, and corporations have replaced the owner. Unions are now dealing with a bureaucratic machine rather than one or two rich people who have the final say on decisions.
    • The corporate profit machine is ruthless and relentless in its pursuit of profit above all else.
    • The gravy train has come to a shuddering halt in most industries now and delegates/reps must accept that profitability will not be sacrificed lightly, if at all.

    A HSR has more power than a union rep in many respects these days. Occupational Health and Safety regulation holds a lot of power regardless of union strength. However, like much legislation, it is open to interpretation, and all businesses would be crossing a line somewhere I reckon. A 100% safe working environment is unfeasible and making safety your number one priority could send you broke. “Safety at all costs” sounds like a wonderful catchphrase but following it unwaveringly could cost more than you bargained for.

    Mr. Burns: It seems the federales have been tipped off by an anonymous whistleblower.

    Homer: [to himself] Mm-hmm.

    Mr. Burns: Now, while the plant is brought up to code, there will be massive layoffs. That is to say, total layoffs. Toodles!

    Lenny: Way to put us out of work, genius.

    The Simpsons: “HOMR”

    Just like a union delegate, a HSR must accept that having the place shut down would not be met with gratitude from most of the workers. The ones who whinge and moan the most would very probably be the loudest detractors of the rep responsible. “Standing up for what’s right” can instantly become “fucking it up for everybody” depending on the outcome. Complainers love to complain after all.

    Which leads me to another shitty part of taking one of these positions: most of your time and effort will be taken up by bludgers, whingers and troublemakers. People will want you to go into bat for them simply because they are lazy; these same people would be the most vocal regarding “all the dead-shits in this place!” Projection is almost impossible to see in oneself. People who ignore all kinds of hazards and maybe even are one themselves at times will nit-pick one tiny flaw because they have a grudge.

    Much like becoming a supervisor, these positions can only be performed by a person with good political instincts; be they a greedy/lazy weasel or a person of integrity genuinely trying to help. If you can’t operate in the grey zone and don’t have the knack of reading and persuading people you will either burn out or be tossed out very quickly indeed. I suppose the weasel has the best chance if they don’t get caught red-handed; at least they don’t have the added frustration of being wrongly labelled as a crook.

    Both roles are important and do serve a purpose. It’s just that solving all the problems of the workplace is not it. Dealing with personalities, fighting fires and keeping the peace are the main tasks. Much like a cop, you will last a lot longer de-escalating situations rather than attempting to ‘fight evil’ and take down all the bad guys/gals. Much like the police force the opportunity for corruption comes with the responsibility and many will assume you are ‘on the take’ regardless.

    There are no perfect systems and no matter how many oversight committees, anti-corruption commissions or super-dooper integrity special investigation teams you tack on, you are still left with flawed human beings.  

    KARL: I move that Homer Simpson be our new union president! All In Favour?

    CROWD: Aye!!!

    KARL: All opposed?

    ONE INSIPID VOICE: Me.

    KARL: Congratulations Homer!

    (CROWD CHEERS)

    HOMER: Hey what does this job pay?

    KARL: Nothing

    HOMER: Doh!

    KARL: Unless you’re crooked

    HOMER: Woohoo!

    The Simpsons: “Last Exit to Springfield”

  • WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE: Race Day Saturday

    My dad loved a drink, but I have no memory of him drinking at home unless there was a party or some visitors. He loved the pub and he loved a punt. Looking back over his life I reckon the grog came in 3rd on his list of fun at the local watering hole (excluding getting laid of course). First and foremost was the stories and the jokes. His nickname was ‘Havachat’ after all. He was a master storyteller, and people would gather around his table to listen and laugh. I reckon the horse racing was more of the reason he made that pilgrimage every weekend than the beer. Although there wasn’t much betting going on during the Friday night benders, so let’s not rule out the pisshead angle completely.

    Anyway, this is one of my childhood memories of ‘spending time’ with my dad. He would pick me up around noon; had to be at the pub before the first race you know. Drive to his favourite hangout. Yes, he always drove to the pub, even after the introduction of random breath testing. He was from the last generation that would so often remark “of course I drove, I was too fucken pissed to walk” and then proceed to chuckle heartily.

    On arrival at the pub, I would be taken to the child-minding area. A back room near the bistro with 2 tabletop video games. I would meet the other kids who would be corralling with me for the day and dad would introduce me to our chaperone. This was usually one of the bar staff and they would be our liaison to the drunken gamblers in the off-limits rest of the bar.

    That room was our little playpen for the afternoon. The machines were 20 cents a go and there was a never-ending supply of coins, kicked off by our fathers and added to by random patrons throughout the day. A hamburger here, a plate of hot chips with sauce there. Endless soft drinks; usually Coke of the beloved Fire Engine, and those packets of Smiths Chips or Twisties ripped open down the middle for sharing.

    We could hear the grown-ups carrying on in the main bar and every once in a while, we might sneak a peek into the smoke-filled room that stunk of stale beer. It never looked too exiting to me. It was certainly packed and very loud; I can almost hear that undecipherable noise of so many people speaking at once. The only voice you could hear clearly was that of the race announcer on the telly or wireless.

    I don’t remember us having a telly in the back. It amazes me how we didn’t go bonkers out of boredom. Those old video games can only hold your interest for so long, and if we got caught roaming about outside there would be a drunken lecture about ‘dirty old men’. Which is hilarious to think of now, considering the array of drunken wierdos who staggered out to have a chat with the kids. I can’t recall any faces, but I cannot forget the smell of booze and cigarettes. I couldn’t identify any of them, except for maybe the difference between beer and wine or spirits, but they often had their own distinct stink.

    I can’t remember ever feeling really threatened though; there was a sense that people knew whose kid’s we were. I have a few indistinct memories of angry voices screaming and sounds resembling a melee. Nothing I can describe vividly though. It’s mostly smells and sounds. Visually I can only see those tabletop arcade machines, packets of chips and lots of smoke; everyone smoked in the pub back then. No ice cream, but sometimes a drunk would stagger over and plonk some lollies or chocolate on the table. Shit! Talk about a sugar rush! How did they expect us not to go roaming the streets?

    We eventually figured out that we could go wandering so long as we didn’t all go at once. If an adult walked back there for a sticky beak, he would see a few kids and no suspicion would arise. The same adult never came back twice in quick succession, and they weren’t comparing notes out front. We also had an inkling that they were becoming stupider as time passed. We didn’t understand the effects of alcohol on the human brain, but we knew it made them dumber and less steady on their feet.

    Oh, and the smell of course. Booze and durries. Most cigarettes smelled the same and so did the smoker’s breath. Except for Rollies; people who rolled their own had an even stronger smell, and Camels, they were very distinct indeed!

    Besides that, it is just the constant hubbub of the pissheads and punters. The sound of the man on the telly or radio calling each race and, in between that, the commentators talking shit. No music, no sport, just horse racing. Every now and then you would hear the joyous cries of a winner or the angry yells of one of the losers.

    Some of the more repetitious screams we’d hear would be variations of:

    “Go you good thing! Go you good thing!”

    “You fucken donkey!”

    “That’s fucken bullshit!”

    “You little beauty!”

    “YESSS!!! It’s my shout!”

    “First, second and fucken fourth!”

    “You’ve gotta be fucken joking!”

    “Ah, fuck this!”

    “Fuck you!”

    “What are you fucken looking at!”

    “You wanna fucken go do ya?”

    “You’re a fuckwit!”

    “Get fucked!”

    And many other golden oldies.

    My father used to yell out something I never understood other than he was very pleased.

    “Go you cockbird!” Sometimes it was just “cockbird!” or “cockbirdy!”. Fucked if I know.

    Oh, one more visual just sprung up. I remember seeing the video game on the other side of the bar where the adults were. My uncle was playing a game with cards on the screen and no joystick in sight; just a row of buttons. I remember a grown up telling me you could win money playing it. Wow, that sounds awesome! Why don’t we have one of those?

    Eventually our dads would drive us home (slightly inebriated possibly) and then head back for the evening piss-up to wipe themselves and a large chunk of any winnings away.

    It wasn’t a regular thing, but it happened enough for me to remember. I think it was because mum had something on and dad was not going to miss his Saturday ritual just to take care of me. It was adult supervision…sort of.

  • CORPORATE CONFUSION: Reducing Expenses to Increase Profitability

    INT. BANK EXECUTIVE BOARDROOM – DAY

    CHAIRMAN: You promised innovation. A move to a new frontier of trading and investment efficiency, I believe that was the term you used.

    CEO: There has been an 8% rise in share prices in the last three months

    CHAIRMAN: It was 16% in the same quarterly report last year.

    CEO: May I remind you that in the same quarterly report last year we closed eleven hundred branches and reduced one third of the work force.

    CHAIRMAN: Yes, a memorable piece of work. Quick, decisive, your first year with us, a good start, now may I remind you of a fundamental business principal. Companies grow. 16% last year means 20% this year. 24% next year.

    CEO: Well unfortunately there are no more branches left to close.

    CHAIRMAN: You have three months Simon.

    The Bank (2001)

    I’m sure we would like to think that this scene was exaggerated for dramatic purposes, but I can’t help but shudder at the implications. With all the non-disclosure agreements and airtight contracts, we will never know what gets said behind the closed doors of those high-altitude boardrooms.

    However abhorrent that fictional conversation sounds, the premise holds true. Companies must grow and the CEO is there to make that happen. If you are running a corporation that is producing the latest and greatest innovation, be it goods or services, that wouldn’t be too difficult. Growth is inevitable as you relentlessly snatch market share from your outdated competitors.

    Next you probably start gobbling up those competitors, giving yourself an even larger share. Don’t forget to snatch any up and comers who pose a threat for the double win: remove potential challengers and gain any new ideas and/or talent.

    As far as I know, this type of trajectory cannot be maintained indefinitely (not legally anyway); there will be a plateau at some point. Even monsters like Netflix level out eventually. While customer retention will ensure profits; no single market can endlessly attract new customers at such a velocity.

    Competitors also get their shit together and the tug-of-war kicks in. This would be where the scene with the Board of Directors asking for the moon plays out. “What do you mean no more growth? Steady profits aren’t good enough mate. We want expansion! Feed the beast!!!”

    If the CEO fails, they are sacked. Don’t cry for them though, they always seem to land on their feet and much better off than when they came in. The next business ace rocks up with big ideas and bigger promises. Cost cutting is the swiftest way to make a bold first impression and increase the bottom line. If the business is still profitable, lowering expenditure will result in an overall increase in net profit; which equals an increase in share prices; which equals an increase in bonuses for the people in the top floor offices. Which means absofuckenlutley yes! Do that!!!

    The board meeting scene demonstrates the insatiable appetite for MORE, and the ruthless nature of the corporate machine in its quest for continuous gain. There are only so many tweaks you can add and expect people to pay extra for. Even the most die-hard product loyalists eventually wake up to the pissweak addition you’re trying to fob off as an ingenious innovation.

    Scams like the old charger not fitting the new phone start to run a bit thin after a while too. Customers tend to look elsewhere once they begin noticing the bullshit fees and charges you have been sneaking in there as well. How about the commercials slipping into paid streaming subscription services? It’s all done in the name of impossible profit expectations!

    There is only so many shenanigans, smoke and mirrors can cover up before the customers start jumping ship; only so much cooking of the books before an investigation. That won’t bother the high-flyers mind you. Middle management? Sucks to find out that you were the scapegoat at such a time. No sympathy again, they would have gladly watched someone else take the hit. That’s the Snakes and Ladders rules of scaling the corporate heights.

    Clever marketing can and has done wonderous things; with all its tricks and tactics it can keep the charade churning for a lot longer than it deserves to. Yet even this will hit the wall at some point, and when that happens the scissors come out. Trimming the fat morphs into wholesale butchery!

    Call me a cynic if you will, but there is no doubt in my mind that every person sitting in those executive offices has had to fuck someone over and/or been responsible for, anything from a few, to entire swathes of staff being tossed out on their asses. If you don’t have the stomach for that, don’t kid yourself about sitting in the big chairs.

    Every manager down to the bottom level supervisor has had to carry out some type of unsavoury order. It is undeniably true that the higher you rise in the corporate hierarchy the better your overall communication skills need to be: leadership, persuasion, negotiation etc. It is also imperative that you increase your ruthlessness and decrease your empathy. I suppose you could compartmentalise your business and personal personas in theory. Though I fear it would be impossible for long term exposure to ‘playing hardball’ not to harden your heart full-time.

    The power, wealth and prestige can be an irresistible drive that, much like the profits, requires ever more sustenance to retain its tenuous equilibrium. Like a junkie, the power player finds themselves doing things once inconceivable to keep answering that siren’s call. Bend your ethics, bend the rules; lie, bully, betray. It’s a long way down from up there.

    ELAINE: Why should you get the first class?

    JERRY: Elaine, have you ever flown first class?

    ELAINE: No.

    JERRY: All right then. See you won’t know what you’re missing. I’ve flown first class, Elaine. I can’t go back to coach. I can’t I won’t.

    Seinfeld – “The Airport”

    The funny thing is that we are at all surprised at the immoral behaviour of these corporate overlords. The goal is fucken unsustainable without cheating! The ceaseless lust for “more, more, more” is the gluttonous cry of a degenerate addict. The person who thrives in this environment gets a different kind of buzz than your average Joe. Like the alcoholic who seems to get more energized while those around them are staggering out the door or falling asleep under the table. In their quest for ceaseless satisfaction they have lost their souls.

    I just struck a vein there. This one’s going to expand. Maybe not endlessly, but there will be growth!

  • POTENTIAL DEATH OR SERIOUS INJURY: True Stories #24

    It’s easy to forget you are driving a lethal weapon when you are operating a forklift. Things have a way of getting really hectic and you get caught up in the chaos. There are so many things you need to think about at once: You need to be wary of the load you are carrying and make sure it does not tip. You are usually driving in reverse while you have a load on the front, so you need to watch out for obstacles and pedestrians behind you while keeping an eye on the front.

    The particular job I was doing had two main objectives:

    1) Unload the trucks that came around the back of the warehouse and put the freight in their corresponding run bays.

    2) Keep the belt running. This meant placing pallets for the boys to unload near the belt and removing the empty ones.

    So many times whilst doing this job I seem to have been on auto-pilot with my mind racing trying to keep up with the tasks I was doing and needed to do. I know there was so many times where I was racing around without looking carefully enough to ensure I avoided any collisions. I would get frustrated and just drive as fast as I could between tasks. No speed restricting governors back then. There were plenty of times I was not looking in the direction the forklift was travelling for any number of reasons.

    For some bizarre reason there was a walkway running right through the middle of a path I needed to traverse very often in order to do my job. This was where I needed to move back and forth as I stacked empty pallets and removed them along with adding the new full pallets for unloading by the boys. Many times in my frantic efforts I would be reversing and not looking back. There but by the grace of God I never hit anyone or anything.

    There was one incident that sticks in my memory. One evening while stacking empties I reversed back and turned just in time to see Dave, our OH&S manager, before I levelled him. It was by sheer luck that I happened to turn at the exact moment that Dave stepped in the path of the forklift. Fortunately, I managed to hit the anchors to avoid a very one-sided collision. I could have easily killed or maimed him.

    The irony is dumbfounding. I nearly creamed our OH&S guy while he was walking on a so called safe walkway that he himself would have approved. This walkway was an accident waiting to happen. It was extremely foolish having it there. It was obviously conceived during a quiet time during the day. The AM and PM operations had different set-ups and operations.

    When things got hectic this walkway ran right through a busy thoroughfare for forklifts. I just happened to be the guy who nearly cleaned someone up and forced them to re-route the walkway. It’s good to make a difference.

    I remember the look on his face. He glared at me as if I was some kind of criminal. I fully accept my blame for not looking in the direction the forklift was travelling. However he seemed reluctant to carry his fault for walking into the path of a reversing forklift. He also seemed to neglect the fact that he was the genius who decided to run the walkway through this busy section of the warehouse.

    In the end I am just relieved that there wasn’t a serious accident that evening. It is near misses like these that force you to slow down and take a lot more care while operating a forklift. It is difficult to remain vigilant at all times, but we must strive for slow and steady rather than fast and furious operation. We all want to go home at the end of a shift without tragedy occurring.

  • THE GENRE CONUNDRUM: Movie Musings #13

    VENOM (1981)

    ***SPOILER ALERT***

    “Have you seen the one where the snake bites the guy on the dick?”

    A common question doing the rounds at my primary school after this one was released on video. Back then every movie you rented had a bunch of previews before the film started. It was part of the experience to sit through them, much like you did at the cinema. This particular preview showed the notorious scene almost in its entirety, so funnily almost everyone had seen, if not the movie, the scene where the snake slithers up the man’s trouser leg and seemingly holds off biting him until it reaches the crown jewels.

    A nasty comeuppance for a nasty man and all the males in the audience squirm. I am certain that anyone actively renting video movies around that time must have seen that clip countless times and would remember it with the slightest prompt. They may not remember the name of the film and probably don’t remember the story or anything else even if they did watch it. However, that snake bite to the sausage was pretty damned memorable!

    Having recently re-watched it, I was surprised by the awesome edge-of-the-seat tension it provided. A great thriller! Silly story, but they got you to care for certain characters and that is a crucial part of the formula. By the time the bodies start dropping you are invested in the situation and the stakes; maybe the improbable chain of coincidences and fuckups add to the sense of impending doom.

    By the time the snake begins its journey toward the rival trouser snake we are relieved that one dangerous character will soon be removed from the equation. Obviously, the scene was in the preview for its shock value with the intention of drawing horror fans in. Horror has always been a lucrative genre, and this wasn’t the first and won’t be the last time fans have been lured in under, maybe not outright false, maybe a little inflated. A hardcore horror hound would go in expecting a snake killing spree ALA Snakes on a Plane.

    What you got was a tense and claustrophobic hostage thriller with sudden moments of violence. Less is more as the connoisseurs say and believe me after the first brutal snake attack and agonising death the suspense is excruciating. Oddly enough the fangs to the phallus is the most subdued of the snake’s dispatches. Let the viewers imagination do the work; it doesn’t have to work too hard after that first kill that’s for sure!!!

    It was a great concept: a simple “no one gets hurt” robbery, through a series of unforeseen mishaps turns into a hostage situation with a dead cop outside. Now let’s turn this shit up to eleven and add a fuck up involving a kid’s new pet snake and you have peril coming at you from all sides!

    The snake itself is fucken nightmare material. A black mamba. Not the most venomous, but arguably the deadliest based on its batshit crazy temperament. Sure, those taipans will finish you quick with one bite. This black mamba psycho will go full-on Tasmanian Devil on your ass! Not one bite and see you later, oh no; this motherfucker comes at you like it wants revenge. More than deadly enough, super-fast and hyper aggressive; imagine being trapped in a house with this thing creeping around.

    I suppose it was a good thing this particular specimen seemed to have a distinct attraction to those of the outlaw persuasion. A writer’s prerogative, I guess.

    The point of this post? Beside recommending a good thriller and reminiscing on a bygone era? The clash of art meeting capitalism. It is the movie ‘business’ as they say and profits must be made. According to the folks with the funds, audiences need a nice clear pigeonhole to help them decide if they want to part with their cash and time. If a film crosses categories, it is only sensible to slap the most popular one on the poster or box.

    My point is that the reason it took me so long to revisit this movie was because I was one of those people who had no recollection of the film besides the notorious preview, so I went in expecting a snake killing spree and was rewarded with a well-executed thriller with a surprise guest. I enjoy horror, so I was happy either way, but what I got was better. Many people who would enjoy this film may skip it because they’re not ‘horror’ fans and that’s the drawback of most movie marketing.

    Let’s take a look at some of the cover art and try to see what angle they were going for:

    This was what we all saw in the video stores Down Under. Just a little reminder of that preview you all saw.

    The new DVD version does a good job I reckon

    This one’s really laying it on thick trying to lure in scary movie fans

    Going for the damsel in distress idea.

    Not quite sure what this one is going for. I get ‘Conan The Barbarian’ vibes here. A year too early though…

    Probably captures the mixture best!

  • WE NEED TO DIG A LITTLE DEEPER: The Valuation of Vogue

    Unemployed twenty somethings living in Social Housing flashing expensive jewellery and brand clothing on social media; sitting home all day playing on their thousand plus dollar gaming system on a massive flat screen TV – bit weird. The bling more than the electronics I suppose, but it all begs the question “how can you afford that shit?”

    An outsider would quickly surmise that this person is up to some kind of shifty business, and they may well be right. That is not my interest here; however, I am intrigued by what the motivation is behind this pretense. Anyone who knows you and knows your housing and job situation automatically senses the disconnect and they may have any number of feelings on it; of course, that often has little to do with any comments or emojis they might leave. “Looking good!” could be coming from your biggest hater.

    Are you trying to impress a bunch of strangers then? What is the purpose of that exercise? People who do not know you, think you are wealthy and successful – okay. What now?

    Is it an internal competition between other Housos? A display of your hustling abilities.

    Maybe it’s an aspirational, “fake it till you make it”, kind of deal.

    That’s all subjective anyway. The part that concerns me is the pissing away of what little funds you have in an attempt to look like you are rich. The irony is painful! The only explanation that makes any sense would be the hustle one. The stuff is hot or bought with the proceeds of illegitimate activities. At least it would be some kind of trophy in that case.

    Either way it is a definite flex, and the pride it instils is a massive compliment to the power of marketing. The bizarre paradox of people showing off your brand to make themselves look and, at least for a moment, feel better. Paying you to advertise your product.

    Another wacky part being the items that came off the back of a truck. People flaunting luxury goods that were stolen – hilarious! A kind of stolen valour for poseurs. You didn’t pay the ludicrous price, but you dare to parade about as if you did or even could – imposter! Although if you actually did the thieving yourself, I could see how you might enjoy showing off your booty. Not a clever move if you end up under suspicion mind you, but whatever floats your boat.

    I’m positive that people purchase black-market or knock-off luxury goods all the way along the income spectrum and why not? The extravagant prices are a sick fucking joke! However, there is something a little slimy about a rich person strutting around with fancy items they got on the cheap, when they could easily afford them. Kind of exposes the arbitrariness of the bullshit prices too.

    The working stiffs who shell out their hard-earned money for these status symbols are a whole other mystery to me. I am not advocating the sale of stolen goods here, but paying full price for these trinkets and rags is a form of insanity even if you have the cash to spare. To go into debt for it is on another level of madness!

    You work like a dog and have to spend most of your wage on feeding, maintaining and housing yourself; then you spend what little you have left on farcically overpriced shit just so you can look like you are financially successful – HELLO, RING-A-DING-DING!!! If you do it via credit you will very quickly be in the red and have less than zero dollars…trying to look well off…

    I understand there is a male peacock aspect to this whole ritual and that people want to look attractive to any potential mates; but why is it so important to ensure people see the logo? In the end, stylish is stylish regardless of the brand. Remember when your nanna gave you an ugly shirt and proudly stated “it’s Nike! You like Nike, right?”. That brand does not redeem ugly.

    An unappealing watch does not magically become beautiful if you slap some diamonds on it – or does it? People walking around with gold chains looking so heavy they are going to develop fucken lumbago! The precious metal or gem is the bling. I suppose I need to look at these two bankrupting obsessions separately.

    For now, I’ll just stick with the mindboggling exaltation of expensive things period. Even more perplexing is that it seems to be that the more grotesque the mark up is, the more coveted the item. This is some perverted shit!

    “A Gucci bag costs how much?!!!”

    “That’s the point you philistine!”

    Don’t get me started on “if you need to ask the price you can’t afford it” FUCK!!! That’s a whole post of its own.

    I totally get the ‘you get what you pay for’ mentality. If you buy cheap shit, you usually get poor quality; its plain and it probably won’t last too long. Of course, you would want to buy clothing that looks good and will last. Although, if you are a slave to fashion your use for those clothes will end much sooner than their usefulness will – warped!!!

    Certain materials are more comfortable, breathable or warm and it may be worth it to spend more on these. While this will certainly increase the price (and value) of your purchase, rarely could it justify the immoral price asked for some of this ‘upmarket’ shit; and be honest, would you buy it if the brand was not on display; and if you did, how long could you go for not telling anyone the brand?

    Yes, I am an out-dated geezer, I get it. Even when I was young, I had no eye for style. Therefore, I don’t want to try and tell the trendsetters how to suck eggs. My gripe is with the offensive price tags on these garments. I often wonder how often a swish outfit goes unloved simply because it was being sold in a lower class of store. Or conversely, how often an average looking piece gets a tick of approval thanks to its label.

    The perplexing paradox remains; people allow themselves to get ripped off so that other people can see that they have money to burn; whether they actually do is a moot point. Oh, and yes, I am also an old tight ass, so feel free to put me in a box and disregard anything you don’t like.

    After all, it’s your money and you are free to with it as you please. Speaking of overspending fashionistas, I can recall the numerous times one of my well-groomed mates looked at me with irritation after the display their new Ralph Lauren shirt was met with “what’s that?”

    Would you still go into hock for that shirt if nobody knew the brand?

    What would the game be like if the brands became irrelevant?

    If it all came down to how you bought unbranded designs, mixed and matched items and were judged purely on the aesthetic rather than the cost?

    I am way of track as usual. There’ll be much more on the ‘luxury’ rort coming soon.

  • YOU CANNOT KILL AN IDEA: Rise of The Tycoons #20

    As we have seen, empires rise and fall. Some become part of a new conglomerate; some become a mere shadow of their former selves and others fade away completely. Kings, queens, czars, pharaohs, maharajas, emperors, shoguns, sheiks, Grand Poohbahs and anything else you can think of. They’re all dead and buried and the magnificent dynasties they once reigned are now relics.

    There are still people who can trace their ancestors back to one of those ancient behemoths, at least on one side of their complex family tree. There would be families who still live in the same region with an even closer tie to the glorious past. They may even have rituals and traditions dating back to before the empire rose around them.

    Almost every Greek I have spoken about this with feels a strong connection to those glory days before the rise of Rome. I’m sure there are many Italians who speak about the ancient empire with pride too. I won’t do a complete list around the globe; I’m sure you get my meaning.

    Descendants reminiscing about a once mighty empire is well and good, but the fact remains that change is inevitable and no matter how big and strong your domain is, it will eventually go the way of the dinosaurs. Whether it be a central stronghold with tentacles reaching out for subjects and slaves, or a marauding horde sweeping across continents, it will tumble in the end. Unless…

    What if your federation was not based on land, wealth and military might? What if it was simply a belief system that spread by scripture and word of mouth? In terms of religion, what if it offered answers to life’s mysteries? What if it prescribed the way to live a ‘good’ life and a way to find everlasting contentment after the curtain drops?

    No borders, no territory to defend, just an organised set of principles based around a spiritual leader; or to be more precise based on the message that leader shared. The biographical stories, fables and teachings eventually get written down and a spiritual movement is formed, much like a tribe.

    This tribe grows and feels the urge to build a structure in praise of the God they are devoted to. They will worship him and perform rituals inside. Now we are entering the village stage.

    Fast forward through the next steps you know I’ll take, and you arrive at an empire, spanning continents and gathering subjects (AKA followers) without needing to be present on the ground. This is where the analogy gets shaky because the expansion often occurs via someone or some group starting their own congregation, with no formal ties to the ‘original’ source. Unless the religion being practiced operates like a Mafia crime family and every congregation (crew) has to kick money up the hierarchy to remain a member and retain legitimacy.

    It certainly happens, but I doubt many people get thrown off a bridge wearing concrete boots for breaking away and starting their own version of worship according to a different interpretation of the scriptures and stuff. Although I get a feeling that the Muslim community don’t have much of a sense of humour when it comes to their holy text and Prophet being messed with.

    Christians on the other hand…they’ve got a whole denomination just for those rebels who create their own cause (yeah, I did it). The protestant religion was formed as one man’s “protest” against the Catholic church’s flexibility with dogma, especially regarding loopholes for large ‘donations’.

    “For God’s sake, we bend more rules than the Catholic Church!”

    Johnny Sack (The Sopranos)

    What began as Martin Luther’s attempt to find an authentic practice of the Good Book eventually became a free-for-all with every Tom, Dick and Harry kickstarting their own brand of Christianity based on their individual understanding of the readings. Now this may or may not be a cherry-picking exercise conducted to bend the bible to one’s preferences. It may just as well be the staunch conviction of a religious fanatic! Many times, it is a money-making enterprise with the added benefit of being a tax dodge, but I’m sure there are some truly righteous ones in there somewhere.

    The Church of England must be one of the more blatant examples. King Henry VII sold it on the idea that Rome should not have authority over the English church. However, there was a more personal reason for this separation; the Pope had refused to annul Henry’s marriage. Probably just a coincidence.

    And now we finally meet God’s right-hand man. The man at the pinnacle of the religious denomination modelled closest to the La Cosa Nostra hierarchy mentioned above. A global pyramid scheme with untold fortunes funnelling into the Vatican coffers.

    I’m not well versed on the other Christian denomination – the Orthodox church; although I believe there is a hierarchical connection, I’m unsure if they are all linked officially and answer to one central power base. The word ‘orthodox’ obviously indicates a fundamental disagreement with the Catholic vision, but I do not know what it is. I always think of it in terms of the Sunni and Shia divide within Islam.

    Anyway, back to the big boss man in The Apostolic Palace. The Catholic religion not only spread itself all over the world like its Christian counterparts, along with Islam and Buddhism; it tethered every new church to the homebase, both financially and hierarchically; the Vatican calls the shots, no exceptions.

    The reason I left out Hinduism, despite it being a major world religion was that it seems to grow along with the huge population growth of its adherents rather than from converts. Buddhism, Islam and the non-Catholic Christian denominations spread their influence by welcoming new followers just as much as by people born into them.

    The other similarity between the big religions and physical empires is the ugly one – war! Countless people have fought, killed and died under the banner of religion in the same way they do under the flag of their nation or empire.

    An empire based on an idea. Millions of people spread all over the world connected by a religious doctrine. It’s pretty amazing! It’s also pretty wobbly though. This us and them game can shift very fast according to the needs of the moment. Humans can be a finnicky bunch.

    “We are all Muslim!” can quickly shift to “Fuck those Afghans!”

    “My Christian brother” can suddenly become “a Protestant bastard!”

    Shit! Even the Buddhists disagree on nothingness for God’s sake! They don’t even have a God! Although some Chinese believe…