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News for July 2011

Humorless @VictoriaPolice Think eBay Kid Sales are Srs Fkn Bsns

A great example of how much of an Americanised humorless srs fkn bsns nanny state we’ve become is a recent article I stumbled across on news.com.au relating to a woman who put her kids on eBay. You can see it’s tongue in cheek, but the way the media report on it, and the way the Victorian police are commenting, they make it sound so absurd.

A VICTORIAN woman is being investigated after offering her two young children for sale to the highest bidder on internet auction site eBay.

The woman, in her early 30s, lives near Geelong. She wrote a “lengthy sales pitch” that included photographs of her son and daughter, both aged under 10.

Several people placed bids on the sickening auction, which has alarmed authorities.

Detectives from the Sexual Offences and Child Abuse unit were alerted to the internet page by a horrified member of the public.

The page has been taken down and the woman’s children could be taken into permanent care.

Victoria Police has decided not to press charges against the mum, who claims the act was a joke.

However, police sources told the Sunday Herald Sun they were disturbed by the incident and in particular the genuine bidders who tried to obtain the children.

Officers continue to probe the people who bid on the children and the Department of Human Services is continuing its investigation into the family.

“Investigators from Geelong were notified last week that a mother was trying to sell her two children on eBay,” a Victoria Police spokeswoman said.

“Photos of the children, a boy and a girl both aged under 10 years, were included in the sales pitch.”

The page was posted on Wednesday and was active until late morning the next day.

“The mother wrote a lengthy sales pitch that was very interesting reading,” a police source said.

“She said the page was created as a joke, but what worries us is the people bidding on the auction. Who knows who these people are. They could be paedophiles or anyone. It’s extremely disturbing.”

Officers immediately contacted eBay, which took the page down within two hours. Auction site staff then provided detectives with full details of the woman.

She faced charges under section 493 of Failing to Protect Child from Harm, which carries a maximum sentence of 12 months in prison.

But officers accepted her plea that it was a joke.

However, they have referred the matter to the DHS, which is still investigating the family.

A spokesman said it was possible the children could be taken into care.

“If there is a serious threat to the children’s wellbeing and the situation is so bad that the only safe option is for them to be taken from home, then that is definitely a possibility,” he said.

“This action could attract the attention of the wrong sort of people, whether it was a joke or not, and the family need to understand the risks and receive advice around that.

“We will continue to engage with the family and assess if there are any underlying problems.

“We need to get to the bottom of why she did this.

“Is there a mental illness, is the mother not coping or was it simply a joke? I don’t recall another case like this.”

Read more: http://www.news.com.au/technology/probe-into-kids-for-sale-offer-on-ebay/story-e6frfro0-1226096094802#ixzz1SM12zja3

Posted: July 17th, 2011
Categories: epiclullz, news, oddities, pop culture
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Jamaica? Nah, I Broke my Penis Myself

An erotic dance craze is thought to be the cause of a recent spate of broken penises in Jamaica, and now faces a government crackdown.

“Daggering”, a lewd dance style where couples simulate dry sex in various positions to the beat of the music, is characterised by over-the-top gyrating, heavy pelvis-thrusting and daredevil leaps.

Many couples have taken the “rough” daggering dance from the club to the bedroom, with disastrous consequences.

Jamaican doctors were prompted to issue a warning on the dangers of daggering when presented with a range of fractured penises caused by rough intercourse.

The number of cases tripled in the last year, the UK’s Sun reports.

The rising popularity of the new dance – and subsequent public protests – have prompted the Jamaican government to ban songs and videos with blatantly sexual content.

Jamaica’s Broadcasting Commission, which defines daggering as a “colloquial term used in dancehall culture as a reference to hardcore sex or what is popularly referred to as ‘dry sex’ or the activities of persons engaged in the public simulation of various sexual acts and positions”, enforced the ban in February.

“There shall not be transmitted through radio or television or cable services, any recording, live song or music video which promotes the act of ‘daggering’, or which makes reference to, or is otherwise suggestive of ‘daggering’,” the Jamaican Broadcasting Commission’s official statement said.

Daggering is a newly accepted name for an activity that has been present in Jamaica’s dancehalls for many years. It is roughly the equivalent of the Caribbean’s “cabin stabbing”, another crude style of music and dance.

“Daggering is a dance that makes you unleash the beast! If you ain’t know what I mean think about every sex position and put it in a dance,” commenter Driva said of the dance.

A series of YouTube videos depict daggering as a rough, and sometimes violent, act which can be demeaning to women. One video shows popular group RDX performing its song Daggering live, with one member simulating extremely rough dry sex on the floor with a woman.

The community is divided over the dance, with singers up in arms over the ban, saying it stifles their right to free speech, but others welcome the ban.

Read more: http://www.news.com.au/travel/news/erotic-daggering-dance-craze-causing-bodily-harm/story-e6frfq80-1225720059571#ixzz1SLztuLYz

Posted: July 17th, 2011
Categories: news
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Are Women More Morally Ambiguous Than Men?

After my recent post about True Blood being softcore girl-porn, I started to think really hard. I often joke about maninism and the sexual revolution to equalise a female dominated workforce, society and world, but scarily as people often point out, my jovial expose’s and comparatives are actually based more in fact than fiction.

This got me to wondering about moral ambiguity of entertainment. I have, throughout my life, noted far more objectification of men by women than women by men. The generic smutty office worker, 20-40, slightly chubby from a desk job, always posting photos of themselves on facebook with a glass of wine in hand because that’s totally hip atm, that demographic springs to mind. And before we continue, keep in mind that I’ve never had trouble getting female attention, and whilst I hate both genders equally I hope that my introspection can help a few of you out there. Also keep in mind that whilst this is written for a primarily female audience, every element can logically and deductively be boiled down to applying to men too, so you have no excuse if you have a penis not to walk away from this article with some new ideas.

When you go to Sydney’s gay and lesbian mardi gras, the VAST majority of people present are women, out for a perve on all the naked gay men, even all the gay guys I know point out that there’s 500 horny women for every gay man on parade. When you watch TV there’s all this pseudo-pornographic romantic tripe all over the tube, from Twilight to True Blood, all vampire and werewolf related shit now has taken on a perverse Riceian sexuality. It’s very common place to notice women publicly harassing boys, I know I get heckled at least once a week by a car load of females on a Friday or Saturday night, sometimes more, and I find it extremely awkward.

What happened to workmen on a work site making lewd comments and whistles at women? Guys don’t dare, because they’ll be slapped with a sexual harassment charge in a heartbeat. But boys look at porn right? Well, yes and no. The purpose of it is far more clinical than women realise, there’s no emotiveness behind it, it’d be comparable to a woman using a sex toy to jack off. Men are sex crazed, right? Well, besides the genetic dispensation to have a higher sexual urge than women, I often find that if the truth is told women are at least equal to men in that regards.

Whether it’s slutty dolls and 10 year olds gyrating their hips like some latina singer on MTV through to the office dwelling sex crazed wine toting weirdos, there is a very distinct societal change developing which seems to have spun off from the 60′s to 80′s female empowerment movement and now those people are in positions of influence they’re pushing forwards some very morally vacuous agendas.

At the end of the day you’ve definitely got to recognise that all the above behaviour is pushed by marketing and advertising, whether you like it or not, you’re going to do as you’re told and become consumption machines and eat up what you’re told is the current trend. And yet, if you take a step back, and evaluate things, extrapolated from all this nonsense there are serious moral foundations in society being broken down and destroyed.

If you academic.google around you’ll actually find that infidelity in relationships is falling well and truly into the female side of the relationship being more likely to, and with Dolly, Cosmo, etc and other softcore pornographic magazines with content that would get it an RC rating over here if it weren’t passed off as sexual education you can see where a lot of these trends are coming from.

To add insult to injury, there is a very, very strong emphasis as of the last two decades on mens body shapes. I’m not talking mad pumped up jacked in on roids type of body, but there is DEFINITELY more pressure on men to conform to Calvin Klien models than there is on women to conform to Barbie, and both conformity agendas being pushed tend to be perpetrated by women, and womens industries, especially women in media.

I first hand know of many relationships which involve partners who freely admit they find X type of demographic of men to their partners who are completely nothing like they demographic they’re talking about, and they do it in a way that they think window shopping in this manner is normal, but would flip their shit if the male in the relationship even accidentally glanced at a female, or even more hilariously, they’d rage senselessly at the guy if a girl flirted with them as though it’s the mans fault.

Another big element in this issue is mens desperation. By being completely cuntstruck and desperate, you kowtow to whatever you’re given and cop it on the chin, when there is definitely an abundance of other potential partners out there. It’s male competativeness and need that drives them to try and compete by absolutely throwing away any self-respect or dignity they may have and tolerating things they really shouldn’t just to try and seal the deal with a specific female as opposed to turning their head and realising there’s 3 billion other women in the world.

This could also reflect peoples complete and utter lack of understanding of their ‘level’ in the dating world. I will admit men have a very low bar, which again proves my statement that men are desperate fucks. Women on the other hand would rather be 50 year old virgins who watch above mentioned pseudo-porn for girls and live in fantasy worlds jerking off over dirty 50 year old mexican drug fucked skeezy filmstars like Johnny Depp instead of appreciating what they have right in front of them. I know of quite a few girls who’re in their 20′s and never had a boyfriend but do all of the above and even when a reasonably attractive man approaches them they write them off as fugly and treat them like crap.

I’ve never had a problem finding or keeping women, I’m decent enough aesthetically, but more often than not my personality is the keeper aspect, so I can say the above without the vitriol and jaded mentality of some balding hairy fat drop kick virgin who lives in his mothers basement. I’m not butthurt or angry at womankind, and as I stated above it’s well and truly mens faults just as much, but the bottom line is; women are generally more intelligent than men, so if I make this realisation why haven’t they?

I’m also sick of seeing female sexual predators, it disgusts me how many women 10-50 years older than Justin Beiber are OBSESSED with him. I swear to god, if there was a female version (although there never is, see, boy singers, boy bands, and even girl bands are all angled towards a female market) and men significantly older than her illegal ass were all saying what some of these creeps say online you KNOW the police would be arresting and charging them and locking them away; but do these creepy middle aged kiddy fiddling pedophile housewives get any punitive measures? Of course not, they’re women.

The frustrating part is the ambiguity of culpability. I’m rather biased, and I honestly think that men are all to blame, because they’ll sell their own mother into slavery for a bit of T&A, but I do think I am naive in thinking so and am aware that arguments towards women being equally or more so at fault are possibilities. I just hate men more than women though, so I tend to lean towards that.

On the flipside, it would be far easier for women to take the moral high road, or rather, regain it, over their dicked counterparts given that their decline is a very recent trend that is somehow fuelled by female liberty falsly at best.

Gaggles of women together pushing peer pressure that your boyfriend or husband is ‘controlling’ or dominating your life or what not is usually a good example of the fickleness of dealing with this type of shit. Some men are controlling. But all female friends who don’t get along 100% with your boy will definitely say he’s controlling. It’s like crying wolf, which makes objective evaluation so difficult.

One sure fire way to not hurt your boy is to treat him exactly as he treats you. You don’t see him rubbing in your face that he finds chicks with EE tits attractive and only EE attractive, then shuns and complains about how flat chested someone with DD tits are, when all the while you’re sitting there with a C wondering why he’s hurting you like that. So don’t do the same and objectify other men, hell, if you’re looking at other men then your relationship isn’t working out, move on, for his and your sake.

If he does start looking at women, call him out on it, but don’t go mental, you’ll just seem insecure and psychotic. Bringing up issues like that is a delicate matter, you can repress things then eventually explode, but you can also harp on it too much and appear nuts, so find a balance. Most importantly though, remind him he’s not single.

Many people will be all hurr durr well there’s nothing wrong with looking it’s natural, but then they’ll sever the testes of their boy if they caught them doing that but think it’s fine if they do. Hypocrisy is rife in relationships in general, so the real trick is to manage a good level of communication and minimise the hypocrisy, there will always be some though. But you have to accept first and foremost that what is ‘natural’ isn’t always ‘right’ and can quite often be wrong. It’s not natural for men to be monogamous creatures, even in animals where assumed monogamy is part of their mating you will VERY often find the male straying, the reasoning falls down to genetic immortality, males are given a compulsion to go out and spread their genetics in any way they can.

One element that explains this in a laymans scientific manner, before I get back onto a collection of protips from my readings this evening, from my life experience, and from discussions with friends is, the genetic primal desire to propogate. If you have an island with 1 woman and 99 men you will have 1 child every 9 months. If you have an island with 99 women and 1 man you will have 99 children every 9 months; so the genetics to sleep around and spread your genetic material far and wide is more prevalent in society purely because people WITH that disposition to begin with have bred significantly more than monogamous men and thus more men are biased towards wandering. So be thankful if your boy doesn’t wander too often!

If you often do things without each other it’s important to be transparant. Tell each other where you’re going, who you’ll be with, keep in touch while you’re gone, that’s just common courtesy. If something happens while you’re out, say, other boys hit on you, or worse you approach them, tell your boy rather than risk someone else telling him. Witholding information is the same as lying, also manipulating what you say like a New York city contracts law solicitor is even more painful to a guy, say it straight, don’t try to mitigate.

Always tell each other stuff straight up and honestly, try to avoid situations where you will flat deny things when being called out, because most times men will do that as a trap, they already know the answer to the questions they’re going to ask; they just want to test the level of your loyalty and honesty with them by seeing what YOU say to them about the matter. This is one I and every guy I know has done many times before, and it’s something commonly referred to as ‘the girlfriend trap’, ironically not because you’re trapping a girlfriend, but because it’s a relationship control dynamic that was most commonly employed by teenage girlfriends you’ve probably had over the years to trap YOU, and you as an adult will ashamedly employ it yourself.

When trying to work through a problem do it textually, it gives you time to think and takes a lot of heat out of the situation, but DON’T ever exacerbate it by trying to defend yourself. Say your man catches you checking out beefy muscled guys all the time, whatever you do don’t send them an email being all so what, I’m attracted to muscley guys, but it’s not like they have to be Hulk Hogan or elements that pretty much just reinforce the guys fear that you’re enforcing a body image on him and if he doesn’t meet that you’ll continue to window shop, it says to him “Oh my expectations aren’t ridiculous, although you think they are because you’re not a beefcake, but gee it’s not like I’m asking you to be a WWE RAW competitor, just built like all the guys I look at,” which is still saying he’s not what you want.

Definitely don’t say that that’s not all you look for in a guy either, because if the issue is he keeps noticing you looking at guys of that demographic then what you’re doing is saying “I don’t look for built guys only, I want more than that.” which translates to a guy as “You catch me only looking at built guys, but I feel bad because I am being shallow, but don’t really care and will continue to window shop.” If you were happy with him, you wouldn’t be window shopping, just as he doesn’t because he’s happy with you, and you know how unstable you’d get if you kept catching him checking out girls with something that is more genetic than by choice, as the example of being a beefcake is.

Definitely don’t say that you look at a boys face first when you’ve been busted by him checking out male prawns (rip the head off before you eat it) or webcamming with guys who’ve got incredible deal breaker mugs on them or worse still pretend personality matters, when lust has no other element to it aside from physical attraction. Remind yourself why you’re with who you’re with, and if you don’t find them physically attractive, or have lost interest, in fairness to them, go elsewhere instead.

If you find yourself attracted to other people, then there’s definitely something wrong with the way you feel with your partner. If you have requirements out of the ordinary and seek attention from other men, again, there’s definitely something wrong that you need to work out before it grows like a cancer and consumes the psyche of your partner (assuming they’re innocent and you’ve just lost interest out of selfish reasons, it’s cruel to put them through that shit). Don’t gush about the million reasons you love them more when it’s a lust issue, it just adds insult to injury because if they have ALL that going on, and some dude just has a good six pack, that’s telling people that you’ll give up ALL that, or risk ALL that for a ugly dolt with a six pack and basically does confirm you’re shallow.

One element a lot of girls don’t realise is, they place unrealistic expectations on men’s body images. Take abs for example, you have to have a very dangerously low body fat level to attain them, and still have to spend a fair bit of time staying super fit to keep them, but you’ll only get that ‘ripped’ look if you’re in that lucky 5-10% of the worlds population who have the genetic disposition to be super lean. So while your gaggle of girlfriends are flicking the bean over ripped boys in your smut mags, keep in mind that what you’re doing is the male equivilent of boys lusting over girls with stupidly massive breasts and tiny waists and other unattainable elements that only a minority of the worlds females genetically possess.

Another definite no-no is to tell them that they’re just paranoid, then cite lies or witholds you’ve stated in the past as truths and demand they believe you; you need to prove yourself to them just as you would expect them to. Change your behaviour, remove elements that you shouldn’t have had in the first place (such as window shopping) and most definitely drastically alter the way you interact with them, become more proactive, show them that you lust over them as much as you love them, especially in situations where you’ve been caught out lusting over other men, even from a distance.

Never play hard to get, it’s cute for about five minutes, but it’s not normal. Also always initiate physical intimacy, even more than he does, especially if you have in the past with other partners, AND especially if he knows this, otherwise you’ll give the kid a complex and insult him on so many levels he’ll probably psychologically withdraw and you’ll suddenly find you just don’t have sex anymore or haven’t for months. Make him feel special, if he makes you feel special, make him feel even more special. Count how many times he compliments you, makes you smile, makes you feel good about yourself, or .. well, you catch the drift, and double it. If both of you try and outdo each other then you’ll be in a sickeningly happy relationship for a very long time.

Never, ever, ever blow off his needs for something selfish. Don’t ditch him to go out and get pissed with your mates, never exclude him from something like that. Never blow him off and give your attention to another male. Whatever you do, don’t do drugs, stay in school, oh … wait. Well, no, I guess that’s valid. I guess the bottom line is, do unto others … we all know that one, just put it into practice more. Most of all, if you hurt him, chase him, and don’t stop until you’ve made it better beyond any possible doubt.

God, I could keep going for hours but I think I’ll leave it there. I hope at least some of this rant has given some of you a bit of food for thought.

Posted: July 16th, 2011
Categories: critical thought, pop culture, rant
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On Death and Dying, or Suitcases End Marriages

I did it again, didn’t I. You fell for a patently absurd oldschool or addendum in the title which made you curious. Well, my dear reader, I’m sorry to say this post really is on death and dying. It is, yet again, an awkward beast that has reared it’s ugly head in my life. In under half a decade I have lost all but two of my family, within the next few days that number will be down to one. I’ve informed the one that will remain that if they don’t give me at least 10-20 years before the next time I have to carry a coffin I will, in absolutely no jest, take a shit on their grave. I hope that deters them, but we’ll see.

The first time I encountered death I was seven years old. My grandmother was very ill, my parents took me to the hospice she was in. I thought they made a typographical error on the sign and it was a hospital, although it looked more like a hotel. I remember the tardy 70′s pebblecrete flooring in the gardens, which were I must say, very pretty. It was a very quiet little tranquil place, and her room’s door opened into it’s own little garden area. I should point out that I later found out it was a very pricey hospice at that, kind of the Hilton for the dying, what irony.

I remember seeing her frail little frame, she was tiny, almost as tiny as me. She always wore wigs, even though she had her hair, it was an old woman thing I think back then. Her own hair had thinned a lot due to illness, I didn’t know she had terminal liver cancer and bowel cancer. She was yellow, and skeletal, I was quite alarmed but I didn’t want to disappoint my parents and show fear, especially in front of the strangers there who were her carers and staff. I didn’t spend long, I remember her pointing at me her hand shaking and trembling, she whispered, no, croaked, “He doesn’t need to be here.” pointing at me.

My father reassured me with a hand on the shoulder. He was a very big and strong man, with very big hands, but so gentle in the way he clasped me. I lied, it was my first lie to someone dying, the first of many. “I want to be here Nan,” I said. When you’re little you don’t understand what’s going on. I sure as hell didn’t when my father was speaking to the carers there in hushed whispers, as my mother stood, tears running down her eyes. My grandmother raised her hand towards me, she wanted me to hold her hand. I shrunk back in terror.

She was never very warm, even with her children, I remember one time at a family gathering in parting hugs time I accidentally hugged her and she accidentally hugged me back, we stopped, looked at each other awkwardly, and backed away sharing a “Okay, that was weird, let’s not talk about that again.” type glance. But there she was with her frail little hand extended, her weakened muscles straining upwards to hold her arm extended eventually collapsing letting her arm flop over the side of the bed. I clung to my mother. At this point my father had asked the staff to make sure that she was taken care of.

I didn’t know what taken care of was, but there was an emphasis on it, almost a desperation. I knew she was suffering immensely, even a fool could see that. If she were an animal, you’d be locked up for abuse for letting her suffer in that way. The next morning was easter, the phone rang and voices lulled in the background from a regular level to a quiet calm tone. My mother came to find me, I’d crawled into my parents bed and was pulling on a curtain beside it making a tent between me and the house, looking out through the one way tinted glass into the garden and wondering if I could catch a glimpse of a bunny laden with eggs.

I saw in her eyes that something was wrong, I must have, because I immediately said “Nanny is dead isn’t she?” and my mother nodded, barely holding back tears, she explained to me that she was going to avoid telling me until tomorrow, so I could have my easter without tears. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t happy, but no tears came and I didn’t feel grief. I felt sympathy and pity for my parents though.

That was the first time I encountered death, and he was a barrel of dicks IMO.

Years passed before the next one visited me, other family dropped off the perch in distant lands, many of them. A great uncle here, a second cousin there, I even found out my grandmother, the ‘Nan’ one, her first husband or my fathers father had died in the 70′s after moving to Australia after their divorce overseas. So that didn’t quite hit home. The next surprise was my father. He had a tendon in his shoulder and went in for routine key hole day surgery. About a month later he had severe stomach aches, kidney stones they said, they booked him in for a month away or some ridiculous time to remove them.

A day after his diagnosis, he collapsed on the floor in the lounge room. He was in agony, clenching his stomach. As I said earlier, he was a very big and strong man so to see him showing pain (I’m talking a guy who’d accidentally nail gun his hand to a wall, pull it out, come inside and be like “HAHAHA WOW LOOK AT THAT GROSS HUH” without even a twinge of pain in his eyes, but he was in serious agonizing pain) so much that I think it almost scared the shit out of me. I rushed him to the hospital, knowing I can drive faster than an ambulance driving here and back. Ironically, on the way home from the hospital I saved a man’s life as he tried to kill himself, but that’s a story for another occasion.

When I got home I figured he was in good hands and curled up and went to sleep. The next day I got a call from my mother telling me he’d been moved to a bigger hospital and is in surgical high dependency there. On arrival there were several doctors milling around, my mother and I were asked to come into his room, the curtain was drawn, and we were told that my father had a clot in his portal vein in his stomach, and that he is going to die. There was no suggestion or talk of if, when, how, why, just that he was going to die. It was that sudden.

A whirlwind of months passed, as terrible mistakes were made in his treatment by staff in the hospital, in irony the ICU passed over shifts by mouth and scrawls on a white board instead of reading the notes on the file. Fuck, I even stopped them performing an emergency stomectomy at one point when it appeared his gut had become necrotic, based on the fact he hadn’t ‘passed’ a dye they inserted into him, a dye that five minutes earlier the nurses drained using suction from the other end. But regardless, his death was very long, very painful, and extremely horrific.

He was left open from a botched surgery, his entire torso was sliced in two and open, dressed to prevent too much infection occuring, but he’d already caught MRSA (a medicine resistant infection that does very nasty things and is very hard to kill) but to add to that he was still on life support, a tracheotomy was performed to make the hose down his throat more comfortable but from that day forth we could no longer talk to him. That was the hardest part, and the longest in his decline. What was meant to kill him in under 24 hours had dragged on so long a birthday, a Christmas and an easter had come and gone.

We learnt or read his  facial gestures, he’d use blinks to communicate yes and no. He was actually quite creative in his expression. But then one day all he’d do is shake his head, over and over again. No, no, no. “Are you comfortable?” No. “We want you to get better, we want you home.” No. “Mum misses you, and you need to finish painting the study she says, so hurry up and get better.” No. “I love you dad.” No. He wanted to die. I knew it, but couldn’t bring myself to accept it. No more. That’s what he was trying to communicate to us. That it was futile, it was over, but his body was keeping him alive.

I grew and developed a lot as a human being in that time, possibly more than the rest of my life. Spending so long in the ICU waiting lounge, making endless coffees for newbies on the scene who didn’t know their arse from their elbow, translating medical babble to laymans, comforting and petting where appropriate. You become part of the staff. You become part of the furniture. I swear anyone who spends more than a month in an ICU waiting room and remains sane should be given a psychology degree. It really is an eye opener into the human condition. But alas, I digress.

In that time I had been told too many times that “You’re my rock,” and “I need your strength,” and other such compliments which in reality are spirit crushing titles that force you to appreciate that any semblence of emotional strength will end up with you being the foundation on which everyone will attempt to stay for stability when things are traumatic. This came from family, friends, and even strangers who’s family or friends were in ICU, all of which ultimately became as close as family, especially the long termers. You can’t share the same room 20 hours a day with the same people, so emotionally vulnerable, without bonding in a way that you couldn’t anywhere else.

He died surrounded by love ones with me holding his hand and petting him slowly and softly to comfort him.

My grandfather came next, sparing him the loss of his daughter shortly afterwards. His was fast, he’d been going senile for years, but on medical investigation as to the cause it turned out that he had vascular issues that had starved his brain of oxygen and, for a less medical description, had been as though he’d been shot in the brain with a shotgun with random little areas dead and destroyed. They MRI’d his entire body and he was absolutely riddled with cancer. He died within days of being put in an aged care home, there was no point taking up palliative care, and the aged home is one of the best in the country with on site pain management, so he died comfortably.

My aunt on the other hand, his daughter, died from a brain tumor. My mother noticed she was slurring a little tiny (undetectable to me and others) bit, the tumor was agressive. Many months of treatments and a very slow and gradual decline came on. I wasn’t particularly close during the death of my grandfather or my aunt, I loved them, obviously, but I think after my father I was just entirely emotionally vacuous around death.

Now my grandmother’s small cell carinoma (a kind of lung cancer) has caught up with her. When first diagnosed they gave her ‘weeks to months’, after six rounds of chemo she was cancer free, the tumors weren’t in remit, they were GONE. Her cancer status on her file didn’t read ‘remission’, but ‘resolved’. The excitement shared between my mother and I was great. We NEVER have good luck with hospitals, once people go in they never come out.

A week and a half ago she went into hospital because she was tripping balls on her new level of pain meds (80mg OCdone x dbm /w 20mg OCtin x bmar) but they found she had abnormally high calcium levels, in the blood gas analyses that went on they noticed markers for liver cancer present, a full MRI revealed a tumor in her cerebellum and in the bone of her skull, along with another in her liver. The brain one was small, the liver one I’m unsure of, I couldn’t bring myself to read the MRI as I didn’t want to see it, or have to explain it to my mother.

None the less, she’s gone downhill so rapidly she’s gone from hopping in and out of cars, putting her own seat belt on, dressing herself, eating and feeding herself, etc to being bed bound in a nappy and fed sludge through a tube kind of thing. Tonight I visited her, she was whimpering in pain, my mother left her six hours earlier and she was actually talking, and asked for me (she asked for me often, as she forgets things now). Now she can’t talk at all. She reacted with her facial features though, but wouldn’t / couldn’t talk or open her eyes. I chatted to her for a bit and was petting her and asked her to open her eyes, and she did so, she has such piercing blue eyes. I’d never realised before, but I have my grandmothers eyes, and they’re possibly the feature of me I get most compliments on actually.

She didn’t keep them open long though, and I could see tears welling in them. I know she knows she’s dying, but no one has told her, they’re keeping it from her to avoid further anxiety. Yesterday she told me she wanted a pill to make her die, because she knew she was going to die anyway and wanted it over and done with. She is still fairly lucid, which makes it all so much harder. She kept taking my hand and making me pet her face, that absolutely broke my heart.

Unlike the first time, this, the second last family member (hopefully for a long time) I didn’t freak out when she gave me her hand, I held it, petted her, and told her I love her and that she’s the best grandmother I could have ever asked for. Yesterday she thought mum only visited for a minute or two then left because she was ‘too upset’, but in actuality she’d been there six hours, today almost twice that; so to reaffirm that to my grandmother I told her another lie to the dying, that my mother is there day and night in a chair that’s just behind her where she can’t see.

Although I did have a chat to her nurse and told him I’m DEFINITELY moving to a country where euthanasia is legal when I’m 50+. As a child the idea apalled me, it really did, on every level. Now, having grown up and seen the suffering people go through, I find it disgusting that we’re not enlightened enough to allow each person the choice and the right to die. I’ve always said if I find out I have cancer or something terminal I’ll shoot myself; the problem is when it gets to the point that it’s neccessary, you’re usually too fucked up to be able to focus enoguh to do the deed let alone plan it out.

She won’t live for more than a few days now. Whilst I feel bad for lying to her about frequent visits, and whilst I feel like a monster for not finding her a way out, and not getting her home so she can die there as she requested, or for having to leave early because I can’t stand to see her suffer like that, the thing about the chair sticks in my mind more than anything.

I hope it brings her some comfort thinking that my mother is always just beside her out of view.

 

 

Posted: July 13th, 2011
Categories: rant
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@NSWRTA is Killing Motorsports / Rally in My State

I hope the RTA read their Twitter feeds, most organisations have a PR team that datamine online for references to them. This is a pressing issue I have tried to raise with them in writing, which they usually reply with generic cut and pastes of stuff entirely unrelated to the issue raised.

HOW are they killing it? They are under the misconception that motorsports vehicles are all dedicated and not used on roads, this is wrong. GQ16 Schedule R first paragraph points out something across most disciplines.

1. Each vehicle must be registered for use on public roads with an appropriate government authority, or be subject of a vehicle permit issued by an appropriate government authority, which authorises the vehicle’s use on public roads and must be covered by a policy of third party insurance. The engine and chassis numbers must agree with those shown on the certificate of registration or permit.

All motorsports vehicles generally also have to have six point racing harnesses and six point roll over protection systems (roll cages) with side intrusion struts. These are EXPLICITLY ILLEGAL FOR USE ON ROADS in NSW and Victoria, our more fascist states for my international readers.

I have been preparing a rally vehicle for getting back into the discipline, and every step of the way I have been confronted with LAWL ILLEGAL from the RTA and police. Half the time even if it’s legal, the police will disagree and sticker you then you have to fight the matter with the RTA and Police for the next three months all the while unable to use the vehicle.

With CAMS and the FIA enforcing safety requirements to protect their drivers, and the RTA forcing us to not use any safety equipment aside from a lap and sash seat belt, we’re caught between a rock and a hard place.

To make matters worse the RTA will not aknowledge European safety standards, which are significantly superior to Australia’s ADR. The purpose for this is, companies then have to pay huge license and testing fees to the RTA, who will then issue them with an ADR certification. The problem with this is, we’re a VERY small country and for most corporations we have too many problems to make us financially viable as a market to enter.

This means we have outdated … well, everything, and most stuff you CAN get here is imported by individuals and sold at anywhere up to a 1000% mark up (ROPS system from OMP, the rolls royce of safety for my Fiesta RS, 280 euro, in Australia $6,800) so we struggle even just to get the gear to participate in the sport.

The importance of motorsports in road safety is intrinsic. Safety gear used in the sport often comes into general public use 20-30 years after it features in something like Formula 1. Motorsports give people a vent to blow off steam and enjoy their cars in a safe, controlled and education-drive environment. It encourages people to appreciate the safety required at speed, and the skill that is integral to driving effectively.

Australia has always been behind the times in this regards though, in the 60′s and 70′s mag wheels were illegal because they were ‘dangerous and deadly’, tint was illegal until the late 70′s, and one way tint (similar to bus advertisements that cover the windows, etc) was illegal up until the 2000′s. Lap and sash belts were even illegal until the 60′s. So it’s no surprise really.

The problem is, we bleed skilled sportsmen like mad. We had the best sporting shooters in the world, and won all the olympic gold medals, but after changes to laws all our sporting shooters who used to bring home the gold like crazy have all moved to the US. Our motorsports guys, especially privateers who don’t have multi-million dollar budgets (which is often where some of the biggest champion drivers emerge) are fleeing the country like mad.

So, I appeal to you all should you have a moment to pop off an email to complaints@rta.nsw.gov.au and let them know you think they stink, link to this article, and let’s hope perhaps they wisen up. At present Vic Roads are also bringing in even more insane road rules, and the federal government are looking at unified road laws across all states and territories which are so strict and stringent that you’re going to get a lot more ‘hoon’s lashing out in frustration that they don’t have anywhere else to blow off steam and enjoy the thrill of racing.

Outlawing safety equipment, not recognising external authorities superior standards, and generally killing one of the worlds most loved sports off in our country is NOT a good representation of what the RTA should be doing in the best interest of all Australians. In fact, it is utterly absurd.

I won’t hold my breath on any reform, however.

Posted: July 12th, 2011
Categories: critical thought, pop culture, rant
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Kristen Johnston versus Octomum (Aka: Octoslut), Nadya Suleman still Media Whoring her Litter of Vag Nuggets

You’re broke, so broke you can’t afford the $40 a month fee to keep your mans sperm frozen in cryonics. You don’t want it to go to waste, so what do you do? Why, you shit 8 kids bringing your child total to FOURTEEN (14! Yes, 14!), they won’t cost more than $40 a month right?

This is the logic that led to ‘Octomum’ shitting her litter of slutlets. The demented mind of a child abuser who systematically whores out her children to an apalling yet oh so typically American/Hollywoodesque bunch of carrion eaters.

She stated ONE year after her media blits that she was retiring from the media and was apalled that she was selling her children and wouldn’t be seeking anymore publicity and free crap. Every six to twelve months since then she’s done it again, and when called out on it she cries poverty. Bitch should have done her math and realised that $40 a month isn’t that bad!

She’s done it again, however. Oh ye of the loose snatch has whored herself into the media spotlight again. Not by consuming several adults by her cavernous coot, but by getting into a brawl on a plane with 3rd Rock from the Sun star Kristen Johnston.

The actress got so fed up with the noisy brood, she asked the ‘Octomum’ to keep the noise down. The mum of 14 did not take kindly to this remark, yelling back: “How would you like me to keep eight two-year-olds quiet?” To which the actress allegedly responded: “Get more help!”

Nadya’s spokesperson told TMZ that she shouted back: “Why don’t you grow a baby and get a life.” The family reportedly took up almost all of the business section of the flight, which was delayed for two hours before taking off.

This woman should have her children taken off her and be committed, and steralised.

Posted: July 11th, 2011
Categories: celebrity, celebrity gossip, epiclullz, oddities, pop culture
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True Blood Fans are Skanks, and Other Generalizations

I love how underage girls or slutty bitches with boyfriends/husbands gush about and have marathons of True Blood, which I’ve just discovered is pretty much plotless male nudity and soft core porn.

I, like all males, have no interest in it and assumed it was just more Twifaggotry and wrote it off. But more and more people I know have spoken about how awesome it is, many are young and most have boyfriends hell many have husbands.

What I didn’t know is it’s the largest instance of mass hypocrisy and a more contemporary example of sexism against men and objectification of men, along with image crushing emotional scarring that men have forced on them more than women do in modern society.

I noticed that the demographic of fandom into this new Rice-esque vampirism of faggoty Calvin Klein models and very normal almost unthreatening female characters had caught the attention of many girls who I’d probably categorize as the type of sexist chauvinistic pig that deserves euthanasia if not at least being desexed, but I didn’t quite twig as to how prevalent it is.

The kinds of constantly single (gee, wonder why) or walking STD factories that host these marathons also rope in girls who I’d expect far better from, especially given their age or marital status.

Now I’m far from a prude, but it’s the mass hyporpcrisy and trend towards overt sexism against men about this that is really illuminated by current societal norms moving towards the hypersexualisation of females.

I don’t know a single female who wouldn’t flip their shit and get angry at their partner if they were watching porn, overtly, and didn’t give a fuck if their partner knew but hoped that the ambiguity of the brand name of porn will hide that what they’re doing is going over friends places for porn fests.

If a guy did that, he’d find himself single REALLY fast.

Then we have the flip side, women raging about body image stress from models and the like. Those models aren’t there for men to look at, they’re a clothes horse for women’s clothes for women to look at. If that gives them body issues perhaps they should take a look at the ‘expected normality’ imposed on men.

I’ve always been fit, and I’m in no means insecure, but recently having Gaines an easy 10kgs due to medication I’m on I was looking for other fit men on the same meds to see what they did and what their experiences were.

What I found was, more men are insecure to the point of emotional harm, than women in any demographic circle I’ve frequented, and more have serious depression based from this as a curvy girl is ‘womanly’ and the enduring concept of women being comforting baby pooping factories allows chub, but the image of a man has slowly drifted to steroid built protein shake and no solid food intake men al la the film “300″.

The body image of women, not addressing the super skinny but more the mean example of female image is actually something most females achieve by eating healthy and being active a couple of days a week.

The body image of men requires hormone level sabotaging, starving to below 4% body fat, living off protein shakes and exercising an hour a day with an added two hours two days a week. And that’s the regime I used just to get abdominal definition in my hey day.

Then we have the whole issue of men being judged by women, partners, friends, or even ransoms if they so much as look at porn in the privacy of their own home, not some publicly advertised smutfest of a bunch of hipster sluts like a True Blood marathon by any means.

See, men are a visual creature, women are emotional. Men are the hypersexual of the species like most male animals as in nature courting is more a case of fighting the competition off, physically overpowering and raping the female, especially after a few seasons where they know that if a boy jumps them they have the displeasure of having to carry, bare and raise their young.

Women lack these fundamental psychological and genetic dispensations and this current trend seems enforced by peer pressure, and when you follow that social network to the queen bee enforcing the peer pressure it’s always some massively Americanized Hollywood obsessed twat who eats up what the consumerist market tells her to.

This decade we’ve also seen the emergence of equality in alcoholism, longish behavior, and boarding on competitive immorality from the female gender as the male. These are all new things that I would argue objectively are alien both culturally and socially, and something that is entirely foreign to Australia on top of all that. It’s purely American culture reflecting out to other nations, and it’s entirely built by the current Gen Y obsession with conformity to what they are told by any Tom Dick and Harry is normal, and if you’re to stop and question it clearly you’re a prude, or take things too seriously, or heaven forbid, you’re having a rant, not objectively analyzing what appears to be societal decay happening giving us all a front row seat to the show.

So next time you see some chick ranting about True Blood whilst having a “OMG I LUV @MYBF SO MUCH” in her bio, pop -him- a tweet and educate him, let him know clearly her love is subjective and she doesn’t have a problem lusting after other men behind his back, even worse, doing it overtly so all her friends and those on her feed are completely aware that she doesn’t give a fuck and is proud that she spends her weekends lusting over other men behind his back, which is possibly the biggest insult as it’s public humiliation and disrespect except most men wouldn’t twig on this or even realize.

You’d feel obligated to do the same if a guy on your list kept going on about say, some inconspicuous bar he and his friends go on about as totally awesome and go to often as a group while accidentally leaving out the part that it’s a strip joint and he goes there to lust over other women while his loving girlfriend is oblivious and sitting at home. You’d not only out him but give him a good smack about the head for it.

The cancerous effect that mass consumerism at a cost to societal cohesiveness has wrought may seem not to be too drastic, but I challenge you to look below the surface at ‘ladette’ culture, female alcoholism, and the statistical surpassment of men being the more likely to cheat being flipped on it’s head. I challenge you to ask the hard questions, and ignore the victim defense of clearly women are being exploited by being convinced this is normal or even acceptable behavior. It takes two to tango.

The ladette culture as a whole I should add comes in different guises, I know many hipster wanks who are ladettes in regards to thinking it’s fine to go clubbing without their boyfriends purely because they want to play up, flirt with other men, get with other men, or overtly lust over and ‘like looking at’ other men and think that’s absolutely fine. I feel sorry for men in such relationships, especially if they legitimately love their partner and are given the mushroom treatment about any of the above information.

I definitely feel sorry if they’re scared to talk about it openly, when in reality the pressure all this puts on relationships and especially the men in them (keep in mind men have societal pressure to not be sad, depressed, suicidal, hurt, jealous, offended, or feeling insecure or disrespected as that’s ‘being a pussy’ and heaven forbid if they talk about it) causes more harm than any other social pressure, effect, disease or disorder especially on men’s psychological well being and even health.

We deserve better.

Posted: July 9th, 2011
Categories: critical thought, gossip, lifestyle, op ed, pop culture, rant, television
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A Man in the Sky Told Me to Mutilate Little Boys and Girls Genitals

Catchy title hey? But be realistic, 1/3rd of the worlds population are saying this when following their faith and consider it ACCEPTABLE.

I thought I’d introduce you all to a podcast on iTunes I have been listening to recently; it breaks from the normal boring preachy atheist that causes me to troll them and call atheism a religion.

In one edition it even touches on female genital mutilation, although falls short of male genital mutilation which to date has very few scientific arguments (less in this century than any other), but is more a culture of “If I am, my son should be,” thus passing on an abusive act which somewhere stemmed from pseudoscience, paranoia, or a pact with some fictional deity.

That being said, I want to go on record to Jews and Muslims out there. Any ‘god’ that says hey to follow me you have to live by a lifestyle akin to a bunch of old wives tails, oh, and you have to slice half your knob off … dude, you just run, ok?

You do not stay and chat, you do not humor it, you run because clearly it’s batshit insane and evil.

If your god created us perfect, why would you take a scalpel to little boys and girls? Fuck mutilators, fuck religious zealots.

So, take a moment to sit down and have a listen through:

Reasonable Doubts Podcast
doubtcast.org
Other
40 Ratings

(Live link broke, WordPress of iPad lacks HTML support, will update live later.)

iTunes for Mac and Windows
Copyright © 2011 Apple Pty Ltd. All rights reserved

Posted: July 7th, 2011
Categories: consumer reviews, critical thought, op ed, podcasts, rant, reviews, science
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Nico Botha of Moola Bulla Station’s Threat to Kill 200 Cattle a Day in Live Export Debarcle, and My Confrontation of his Flawed Logic (Because I’m Awesome) AND HOW YOU CAN HELP STOP THE CULL.

It hit the news earlier today that a moron by the name of Nico Botha was having a whinge that he can’t afford to feed his cattle. For my international readers, basically kosher / halal slaughter over here has had a rocky road with frequent ‘surprise’ finds that it’s cruel and sadistic and in no way a humane way to slaughter animals.

Whilst captive bolt method has degraded since the above lobby groups have pushed that it be a legal requirement it does not cause brain death instantly (claiming that spreads BSE, allegedly), but rather knocks the animal out and doesn’t pierce the cranium this method is still far less horrific than the video footage Australia got to see a while back.

Back in 1998 a halal slaughter house in Melbourne was shut down after video footage was leaked out, but more recently the footage exposed to the Australian public was from Indonesia and the level of depravity depicted was on par with what I’ve seen conducted WITHIN Australia as far as halal and kosher slaughter goes but it was the first time Australian’s had seen the meat industry in all it’s glory.

Don’t get me wrong, no preconceptions required here, I’m not a tree hugger, a hippie, or a vegetarian. I see the economical and ecological viability and requirements around me and adopt them as ethical business practice however. Therein lay my frustrations with Nico Botha and his ilk. The type of person who through negligence of their own part then plays off to the media as an ‘Aussie battler’ out to make a fair crust when in reality their own stupidity looks to be their downfall, yet ultimately they file a claim and underwriters fix it all whilst they get to trap off at the press and be used as a political lynch pin or bargaining chip.

As reported today on News.com.au:

Nico Botha owns Moola Bulla station in Western Australia and he told heraldsun.com.au he will start to cull cattle tomorrow because he can’t keep feeding them.

“Rather than let them starve to death over two or three months, I’m going to shoot them quickly,” Mr Botha said.

“My property is over-grazed and I have got too many cattle, I have to look forward to the next year or two.”

Mr Botha slammed Agriculture Minister Joe Ludwig for failing to work through the problems properly and for leaving cattle stranded.

“It’s going to be far worse, now animals are going to die in their thousands in paddocks and nobody cares about that.”

A ban on live exports to Indonesia was put in place after horrific images of cows being tortured and harassed before slaughter were broadcast on the ABC.
These farmers were all given hefty compensation packages, which I cannot FATHOM as in any way warranted given that they’re all multi-millionairs in a multi-billion dollar industry where not a single cattle farmer I’ve met, having grown up in a rather rural environment and spending time on an extreme-rural family property as a teen, has ever been poor. They run large plantations, with a mass of staff, and have enough margin to weather the 8 year drought we just sustained.
Given the drought has broken and business is booming for the agri-tech section of our economy again they without doubt have enough sense to manage their businesses in a manner to ensure they won’t be floored simply by not being allowed to send off a bunch of cattle to be slaughtered by religious zealots for crazies back home to consume knowing the animal was sacrificed to their diametrically opposed yet theoretically identical sky fairies.
I mean, c’mon, only a half wit would plan his business profit margins and overheads so tight they rely purely on one minority contract, right? Wrong. Nico Botha, one such half wit, proved that common sense isn’t all that common. Either that or he’s pushing an agenda, and using guilt and threats of ‘horrible wasted deaths’ in paddocks ‘starving to death’ unless he ‘just shoots them’ of a number that scarily is precisely 200 per day until the embargo is lifted. I’d probably put my money on him being a conniving agenda pusher more than a half wit.
I decided that, given my tolerance for idiocy is always at an all time low, I ought to call this bloke up and question his logic. So, to google I went, ‘contact details Moola Bulla Station, Western Australia’ I entered. Out came not one, but two numbers for his office enquiries centre of his property, (08) 9168 8910 and (08) 9168 8911 along with fax and email facilities, far more high tech than my families rural property.
The following is the conversation I held with him, verbatim. Whilst it’s not as sensationalistic as many of you would probably hope, I figured I should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he is a half wit and be nice and give him some honest advice on how to float his business just to watch him dismiss it and prove to me that he’s merely on the take and wanting to use guilt to achieve a goal, being more hand outs and the embargo being lifted regardless of the ethics or morals involved.

“Moola Bulla,”
“Hello, may I speak to Nico Botha please?”
“Speaking,”
“Hello Nico, I saw your recent issues in the news, I hear you’re in rough times financially?”
“Yep,” said almost hopeful, as though I’m some carrion media mogul about to throw him money.
“I just wanted to congratulate you first on purchasing Australia’s largest cattle farm back in ’07, for $25 million you got it at a steal, especially given it coincided with the drought breaking, business must be boomi.. oh wait, no. It’s not, that’s right.”
“What?”
“Well, you see, I can’t help but question your logic and paralel it to say, slave masters in the Southern States of the US demanding that the average tax payer refund them for slaves they had to let go, when they knew full well that they were dealing in an industry that was unethical in numerous ways and had been abolished in most other nations, surely they saw this coming as much as meat industry farmers.”
“What?”
“Okay, I’ll try something easier. Did Nike complain and demand money from Governments when they suddenly were astounded to find out the sweatshop labor they employed used forced child labor? If you can’t afford to stay in business because of one contract that has a history of being up in the air ethically, as well as being banned outright in many European nations, surely dropping your cattle in paddocks or starving them to death is kind of cutting off your nose to spite your face isn’t it mate?”
“What am I meant to do? They put me out of business, I can’t feed my cattle.”
“Well for starters you could just slaughter them humanely and sell them on the Australian market like all other meat producers have been doing since colonization, but I find it far fetched you demand money from REAL Aussie battlers whilst pleading poverty. I don’t think Nike had the audacity to try that one.”
“But what am I meant to do?”
“I just told you mate, sell locally. You got caught out, you made a dangerous investment, you lost, thems the breaks. Get a loan, talk to a business advisor and financial planner and make your business profitable ethically, you’ll sleep better at night.”
*Nico, shamed by this logic, terminates the call; because putting a hand out and demanding is easier than working for a dollar.

Nico doesn’t want you to know his multi-million dollar property is one of the largest in the nation, is adjacent to a high class golf course, Halls Creek Airport, and a thoroughbred race course. He didn’t want to have a bar of logic, because it’s far easier to use empty threats to scare them city folks into line with horrible acts committed to animals. The brutal reality is, the animals are bred to be slaughtered, they’re going to die, the only thing controlled is the manner in which they die so let him have at it with a rifle and then watch him file false insurance claims for business loss (which he happens to have with GE, something the media in their lack of research missed (it’s amazing what you can find through google, and how many country folk talk big on forums)) and get the big money he wants rather than support the economy of the ‘Aussie battler’ he’s trying to steal the image of for the media to kowtow to.

Ironically, Moola Bulla station was also historically involved in the slaughter of aboriginies; I’m sure the occupants back then were hands out when they realised their gamble on exploiting the ‘black fellah’ hadn’t paid off also.

Whilst I have a feeling it’d be falling on deaf ears, here’s the blokes details should you wish to reach him:

(08) 9168 8910
(08) 9168 8911

Although if you want to make a difference, I suggest writing to (but be sure to ring them first and foremost and demand that a stop be put to Nico’s threat of a cull):

Senator Joseph Ludwig
Minister for Agriculture, Fisheries and Forestry
Australian Labor Party

Parliament Contact:
Phone:     (02) 6277 7520
Fax:     (02) 6273 4120

Waterfront Place,
1 Eagle Street
Brisbane Qld 4000

GPO Box 2477
Brisbane Qld 4001

Phone:     (07) 3229 4477
Fax:     (07) 3229 4140
Toll Free:     1300 301 944

I would recommend in doing so you strongly suggest perhaps the Senator see to it that Nico is held liable for negligent managing of a business involving livestock, negligent management of property, and cruelty to animals through the afforementioned negligence. Nico volunteered that his property is ‘over-grazed’ (given it’s size this is highly unlikely and if true is a clear sign of property mismanagement bordering on ecological disaster on a small scale), and that he has ‘too many cattle’, again a clear proof that he was wilful in his negligence for the purchase, breeding or obtainment of so many head of cattle.

The RSCPA can be contacted on:

(08) 9209 9300 or
1300 CRUELTY
(1300 278 3589)

For legal reasons the RSPCA cannot accept anonymous complaints, however details will be kept confidential.
Provide them with a link to this article.

One can only hope should indigenous rights ever be respected that the indigenous peoples of that area take him to the Lands and Environment court for ameliorative waste as another avenue to stop this obvious half-wit from using what’s left of his brain to cause even more ecological harm, not to mention ethical and moralistic furor.

Posted: July 5th, 2011
Categories: critical thought, epiclullz, journalism, politix, rant, scams
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