Blinded Me With Science.

By Admin on July 6, 2012

I want to tell you about someone I’m become a bit of a fan of, and it might not be the kind of person you would think of being a fan of.

Damn that sentence got long, and all I wanted to do was to not finish with the word of, but I tried three times and failed each time, so stuff it, it can stay like that.

 

Who is your favourite scientist? Yes, that’s right, who is your favourite scientist? I’m guessing it would be Julius Sumner Miller, or Bill Nye the Science Guy, Doctor Karl, or the blokes from the Curiosity Show, or maybe even Doctor Who. Well I want to throw up a new name into that mix of awesomeness, Dr Rachel Dunlop, better known as Dr Rachy.

 

I first learnt of Dr. Rachy though the Skeptics Zone podcast, and since then have discovered her on twitter, on various television and radio spots, and even seen her name mentioned in an article on The Drum. When I do see her name mentioned, it pricks up my ears as something worth reading.

 

What I like about Dr. Rachy is how well she can communicate on so many levels. She has the charisma that draws you in to learn more, and to be intrigued by what she is saying, from the mention of noms, to the most detailed science stuff, Dr. Rachy makes you want to listen. She doesn’t put herself up on a soapbox as being an almighty powerhouse of knowledge that everyone else must bow before, no, not at all. Instead she who engages you and makes you think, and shows you just how wonderful the world is, with out the bullshit that some people pedal as the truth.

 

I use to think of myself as a skeptic, but to be honest, I never really gave it much thought. After all, as much as I like science, I’m too dumb to understand it. Instead I just put things into two groups, one being “Utter bullshit, mixed with unicorn rainbow farts and woo” and the other being “Maybe possible“.

These days though, I’m much more informed, and ask a lot more questions, because I have become engaged in discovering why. Sure I’ll never win a Nobel prize for science, my only hope is to get to tighten up my fat belly and maybe be in the running for the Nobel Prize for Boobies. But thanks to Dr. Rachy, my mind has been opened up more, because I can understand what she talks about.

 

You know, I’ve never met Dr. Rachy, although I have had a couple of tweets regarding old radio shows and doughnut vans go back and forth, but I certainly am thankful for her being in my life. We need more people like Dr. Rachy in the world, because then the world will be a better place, filled with awesomeness, noms, and kickarse science.

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Do What You Do And Do It Well

By Admin on July 4, 2012

…Or don’t do it at all. That’s how the saying goes.

One of the biggest educations I ever got in life came from Eddie McGuire. Yes, that “Eddie Everywhere” guy, the president of Collingwood footy club, the on on the television and the radio.

No, don’t go away, keep reading.

Eddie runs a tight ship. He is not a control freak, although if you were only looking at one side of the picture, you may think he is at times, or even all the time. No what Eddie is, is smart operator.

When working with Eddie, you know where you stand, and he knows where he stands, and together the job gets done. It’s simple, it works, and there is nothing unknown. Before doing a show, or a function, Eddie will say “I’d like to do A, B and C, is that possible?” it’s not an order, he has an idea of how he thinks he can achieve the most reaction from an audience, to give them a memorable experience. If you say “We can’t do A, B, and C, but we can do A, D and F instead”, well Eddie goes with it.

But the onus is now on you. You have said you can do something, so it’s time for you to deliver on your word. If you stuff up behind the scenes, people are not looking at you, they are looking at the guy out the front, and that’s Eddie.

I got on the wrong side once, and it was more than enough to learn my lesson. Sure it hurt my pride a bit at the time, but he was right. It’s a simple philosophy to live by, and it works well. It’s not over complicating a matter, it’s setting a benchmark, from which everyone can work together.

The simple idea of doing what you can, as well as you can has held me well. There is no point in promising the world, and only delivering a handful of dust. It’s better to do what you can, and surprise people when you achieve more than that.

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The All New Fresh Looking AGC

By Admin on July 2, 2012

So I got on here to do a blog post about AFL jumpers. Then I noticed another upgrade to WordPress, then I got going on changing the theme, and then I designed a new header. This is what happens when you let a cow wander in the fields.

Any issues, let us know. Any comments, let us know. Any complaints…, moo!

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Knight to King 3

By Admin on June 29, 2012

No, it’s not a title of a film I’m reviewing, nor is it the third in a series of anything.

When was the last time you played chess? Have you ever played it? What’s stopping you?

Or another question I could ask, why isn’t chess part of the early learning in school, say Prep and Grade One? Yes, I am serious, why are we not teaching young children chess?

If you’ve never played the game, this might be a hard concept to understand, but chess is a great way to get kids involved in learning. It teaches them strategy, it teaches them mathematics, it gets them interacting with others, it gives them the basics of reasoning, and responsibilities. Chess tests you and let’s you learn at your own pace. While your opponent is thinking about their move, you are to only thinking about their move, but all the possible ways you can counter their move. Can you see where I am going with this?

I love playing chess. I’m not very good at it, but I love playing it. Sure the best I have ever done is beat a state champion, but they were a bit drunk at the time, it was late at night, and they left their queen open early which in the end cost them the game. It was a one time big win for me and since then, I’d say I’ve lost about 80% of the games I’ve played, but I’ve loved every one of them.

A few years ago, I was teaching a four year old how to play chess. The basic moves, the basic forms of attack, generally just getting their interest in the game. I’d say we had played about thirty games over time, and even though I was helping and showing the best possible moves, they still lost every game. The winning or losing didn’t matter in the end, because they still wanted to play so they could win. One day, I knocked over my king. It was an honest mistake, but it still happened. Now I could have easily put it back up and kept playing, but that is not in the rules of fair play. So I told my opponent (who was now five years old) that they had won, and why they had one. It was like turning on a lightbulb of thought process. Instantly a new game was set up, and this time I was playing against someone with more confidence, who took the game on, who wasn’t worried about a pawn being taken from them, if it exposed my bishop for them to take. The chess board suddenly went from being a game, to something that showed through effort, sacrifice and imagination, you can succeed.

Yes there is a lot to learn in chess, and to start playing it takes a bit of time to learn. But once you have the basic moves understood, you can play against anyone. It’s not about raw physical strength, or being smarter than the person you are playing. Even the best players have to be on their game, every game. Think of how the cogs will turn in their head, as they work out how to get the more versatile pieces out from behind the pawns, while still using the pawns to protect their assets. The number of possible moves just for that first move (16 possible moves) is a wonderful start to the millions of other possibilities in every game.

In a school setting, where all students are learning the game together, you would have some interesting results, which would open their eyes and minds to the wonders of learning. I see it as a great stepping stone, to a whole world of possibilities, and it doesn’t even need electricity to work.

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Bruises Fade, The Hurt Lasts.

By Admin on June 23, 2012

I’ve decided to open up a bit on this blog, and one of the things to open up about is school bullying. I’ll get to that in a minute, but if you have a subject you would like me to write about, to hear my opinion, leave a note in the Chat Box on the right. Any subject is open to opinion, but I reserve the right to write about it or not.

 

During school, I was bullied. It happened in primary school, and it happened in secondary school. Of the two, I would say the high school stuff did the most damage.

Now I’m not blaming my whole life on being bullied at school. If I had my time over again, I really don’t know if it would have made much of a difference. We may only be talking a one percent change, it may be a ten percent change. We simply will never know, but one thing is for certain, I haven’t forgotten it. I’m not going to go into details here of what happened, simply because I know there will be others out there who have experienced similar things, and it gives you this strange sense of fear and helplessness, when you hear the stories. Well it does for me at least. To give an example, I’m in my late 30’s, and tried to watch the movie Drillbit Taylor the other week. Please don’t judge me on that, I hadn’t seen it, and there was nothing else to watch. I think I lasted about 20 minutes before I just couldn’t watch it, due to the bullying in it. I mean FFS, it’s just a movie, but it was painful to watch, and not just because of the bad script and poor acting.

 

I’ve thought over the last few days how I think the bullying has affected my life over the years. The school I attended wasn’t the best of schools, but it was close, and that suited my parents. I actually wanted to go to another school in the area, but as they had had a bad run in with that school in the past, I had to go to where I went. There is no point in me mentioning the school, it’s been closed down for about 20 years now. In year 12 I did manage to go to the school I had wanted to go to, and I did far better there, but I could have done better I think, if I hadn’t had five years at the previous place.

 

At school I was creative. I enjoyed science, arts, home economics, and textiles. This made me a target in a school where kids didn’t want to learn, they just went to school because they had to. It may have been an escape for them from bad parents, I’ll never know. But the general consensus was, if you were there to learn, you were not there for the right reasons. Every time you showed a bit of endeavour in the classroom, it would be hell for you during the recess and lunch breaks. Heading to school and home again were not any better.

 

Because of the bullying, I lost interest in doing the things I liked. I still liked them, but there wasn’t any point to doing them, because if I did do them, I would cop a beating for it. As much as I wanted to learn, I simple fear of more broken bones kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying to do the best I could. Even to this day, while I have achieved a lot with my life, I still have this sense of there not being much point to doing it in the first place. Life is not a matter of something to enjoy, but a matter of survival.

I have trouble socially interacting with people. I close up shop and don’t be me around people I have never met before. I come across as someone who is antisocial, and I think overtime my personality has headed that way. Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky, but it seems to be me is too much of an effort, so I may as well be an emotionless being that just does what is expected, and the least amount possible.

I get anxious around groups of people. I need to always have an exit plan, so I know how to get out of any situation, if per chance one does arise. When it comes to fight or flight, I’ve been on the receiving end of fights, and I would much rather fly thank you.

 

Now as I said before, I don’t blame all of the problems I have had in my life on being bullied at school. What I’m trying to point out is, it’s not kids being kids, and we all grow out of it at some point. Being told to toughen up and stand up for yourself, because it’s a dog eat dog world isn’t right. Kids need to be protected from everyone, including themselves at times. We need to allow their brains to develop, to soak up as much information as possible. To know they have the support to try things, and if they fail, know that you fail more times in life than you do succeed. We need to encourage them to let their imagination go wild, because that’s how they learn to think. When kids think, they take more information in, that will help them through all stages of their life. When kids are more worried about making it through a lunch break with out being hurt physically or mentally by someone, they can’t be their best. When kids feel as though they are going to be killed in the place where they are meant to be learning, (and yes that does happen, I’ve been there) then they don’t have the mental capacity to learn.

The antics of school bullies is not how it is in the real world. We have laws to ensure people don’t come to harm for doing their job. If you’re an office worker, think about what would happen if you were dragged out of your workstation, had your head flushed down the toilet, and you were repeatedly beaten by co-workers, simply because they felt like it. They would lose their jobs, the whole situation would be going through the courts for damages. The company would have it’s arse kicked, the police would be involved, and the whole thing would be dealt with. Why doesn’t this happen at school? You can’t just say because it’s kids being kids, because it’s not.

 

Recently I had my school reunion. I didn’t feel like going, because even though everyone is now grown up, they could now legally consume alcohol, and if they remembered the “good old days” things might get out of hand very quickly. I sat in the car park for about twenty minutes bawling my eyes out. Eventually I went in, and found a near empty room. It turns out the bullies were not there, because they were either dead (for one reason or the other, usually drugs) or were in gaol (due to violent crimes), and wouldn’t be out for some time. It makes you wonder why their antics at school were accepted back then, because obviously they never made a good contribution to society.

I’ve also heard the stories of the bullies who years later apologise to someone they bullied at school. I’ve never had it happen personally, and doubt it ever will. In a way I don’t want it to happen either, because it would mean seeing those arseholes again. But if it was to happen, I could never accept the apology. A simple “I’m Sorry” just wouldn’t cut it at all, because the damage done is more than can be resolved with just two words.

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It’s Not What You Say, It’s How You Say It.

By Admin on June 18, 2012

I went shopping today. Well actually it would have been a couple of days ago now, or longer, because while I may have typed this blog post up that night, I’m waiting because I already blogged today.

 

I went shopping today, and managed to find a check out with only one person in front of me. The woman was being very rude and bordering on abusive to the check out chick, for reasons unknown to me, as I had started witnessing this after the cause of events. But within a few seconds I could see the issue, this woman was complaining because the check out chick was deaf. Yep, she was basically being as curt as curt could be, all because the teenage girl was doing her job. The last words I heard as the woman walked off was “It would be nice if people actually spoke to you when spoken to”.

 

By the time the woman, err, bitch had left, the check out chick was visibly upset. I asked her if she was ok, in the very basic Auslan I know, she said yeah. She scanned the items, showed me how much, I said I was using credit, she set everything up, I did the credit card thing, she said thank you, I said thank you, and as I left, she had a big beaming smile on her face.

 

Now I’m no expert on speaking Auslan. I learnt what I know over about an hour a week, from a friend who was learning to teach it. That was about a decade ago, and I hardly ever get to use it. Usually all I say when someone does sign something to me is “I’m slow, I forget, can you repeat that please, because I’m a moron”.

 

So something that took me five hours to learn, which really is less than the basics of a language, made the day of someone, simply because I spoke to someone when I was spoken to. It wasn’t the deaf girl with the communication problem, it was bitch who thought the world should r1evolve around her.

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White Line Fever

By Admin on June 14, 2012

I got a fever, and the only cure is, more sport.

In my bedroom there is a cricket score sheet, My name in red, with the stats saying 103*(62). For those not in the know, that’s 103 runs, not out, off only 62 balls faced. It’s the only century I scored in my cricket career, which started when I was 11, and finished when I was 35.

Pretty obviously I wasn’t that great at batting, but then again, the first time I was ever in cricket nets, I had my arm broken, and my batting suffered ever since. But it didn’t stop me from playing, because I love the game so much, so I kept giving it my best, and trying every single week to get as many runs as I could.

That particular game was a good one for me. I took four wickets with my bowling, got a run out, and even put the gloves on to get a stumping, before going out to bat. We were chasing 178 runs off 40 overs, but my batting partner and I went the tonk and got the runs in 20 overs.

I really wish that could happen again, a game where it all clicks together, but it simply can’t. You see a couple of years ago, I decided to try and play Australian Rules football, and I loved it. But during the third game, my left knee gave way, and as I crashed to the ground, I thought “Damn it, there goes the cricket season”.

After seeing the specialist though, the news was worse than just a cricket season. He let me know that was it, no more sport. The next step is to replace my knees, as they are both in condition now to get replaced, but I’m a bit too young to do that, so no more sport.

“How about if I just bat at cricket? No more bowling, no wicketkeeping, no bowling.”
“Well you can do that if you like…” [Yesssssss!!! I thought], “But I’ll be seeing you again within 12 months, and there won’t be much I can do.”

I left his rooms, surgery booked, and feeling very deflated. My career was over, no more sport. The one thing that had been a constant in my life since I was aged five, except for the times I was off because of knee reconstructions, had come to a premature end.

After the surgery, I did everything expected of me to rehabilitate the knee. To get it as good. It could be. I didn’t rush the recovery, I took my time to let it heal right. After all, maybe the surgery went better than expected, and there was still hope for me to get back out on the field.

At the check up post surgery, the doctor let me know what he had done. He had split a muscle to change where it attaches to my knee cap, in a hope of reducing the amount of wear and lateral sway my knee gets. But in terms of cartilage, there is nothing left, so it’s just bone rubbing on bone, and what bone is there had to have a lot scraped off, just to try and make it smooth. It wasn’t so much the damage that had been caused when I fell on the footy field, but the wear and tear that had happened over the twenty years since I last had the knee reconstructed. His diagnosis was the same, I’m retired.

Retired from sport maybe, but not retired from having a competitive nature.not retired from wanting to win, from doing what I can from being involved in a challenge…, blah! Who am I kidding, I’m done.

That feeling lasted for all of a week. Then the want to play sport came back. I started slowly. Try going up stairs two at a time, no, no good. It took a year, and then I could do two steps at once, but at the end of it, pain. This constant conflict between will and flesh just will not go away. Even though my body keeps telling my brain “Enough!”, my brain keeps reverting to what it has always done, “No such thing as pain, keep going.”

So now all I am left with is staring at the wall. Looking at those figures, and remembering when. Remembering the joy of winning premierships. The sorrow of losing grand finals because the game was rained out, and your team happened to have finished second on the ladder by 5 runs. The joy of scoring my first goal in hockey, after seven years of playing (I was a goalie), to my last season where I topped the goal scoring for the year with 14, despite having played half of the season as a goalie. The joy that playing hockey gave me when I got out of hospital while fighting Leukaemia. Sure I still had tubes hanging out of my chest, sure I was only on day release, sure I felt stuffed after doing it, but gee it made me feel alive, and if the cancer had beaten me after that, I would have died happy. The joy of having been the top scorer in one cricket grand final only to have to sit out the grand final the next year, after dislocating my knee in the semi final. The love of sport I have felt, and had the opportunity to try my hand at. You name it, I’ve probably given it a go. Everything from Footy to Trugo, I’ve given it a go, and loved it. I may not have been any good at some of the sports, but it always put a smile on my face.

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Happy Birthday Betty*

By Admin on June 11, 2012

*Even though it’s not your birthday, and is actually just used as an excuse to have a long weekend and start the snow skiing season.

I’ve been listening to the radio this morning, and hearing about the Queen’s Birthday honours. People who now get to add extra letters to their name, meaning they have to reprint all their business cards.

So many of the people are very honoured, and rightly so after a lot of very hard work. But I have been amazed by one thing. When asked if these people are royalists, the general consensus has been “Oh yes, very much so, I love the queen”.

But when asked about Prince Charles, and let’s face it, unless Betty is planning on giving herself a telegram, she’s not going to be around for too much longer, their views on Charlie was generally, “Errr, well, yes I do love the queen, and well, I must say I’m not overly keen on him”.

Now here is what I don’t get. I am a republican, I believe Australia should have an Australian as the Head of State. But the royalists I heard this morning don’t seem to be able to come to terms with Charlie becoming the next King of England, and by default, the King of Australia. But that’s the reality people. Someone who you don’t particularly like, will become your king, simply because his mummy and daddy shared a bed at least once. Hardly seems like the right qualifications to be a leader to me, of me.

I can understand why some people like Betty, she has been there for awhile, and on the surface, appears to be ok. She represents a bit of stability, but she is not alone in doing that, as we should all respect our elders. But Betty didn’t work hard to get into that position, she got there the same way Charlie will.

So to the royalists I say, if you claim to be a royalist, be one, and not an queen admirer instead, who masquerades as a royalist.

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Organic Bank

By Admin on June 3, 2012

We got thinking today, and worked out there isn’t an environmentally friendly bank out there. They are all big money hungry corporations, that don’t sustain living. They pollute the world with their ATM statements, their fees, their unethical treatment of pens by having them chained to a desk. It’s time to end this now.

That’s why we’re opening a new kind of financial institution, ORGANIC BANK.

At Organic Bank, we treat your money with respect. We offer a 100% natural profit margin. Our lenders make sure you can afford to borrow, through a system of palm reading, aura checking, and crystal consultation.

Our wealth creation specialists will grow your wealth through careful portfolio section, using their dowsing skills. Having negative cash flow problems? Why not let us perform reiki to stop the negative energy?

The Americans may have the Green Back, but we have the Green and Clean Back, in fact all of our money is 100% reusable and biodegradable. Not only do we have cash reserves, we have forest reserves, that include wilderness for wildlife.

At Organic Bank, we have a paperless office, and all our ATM receipts are printed on hemp. Why not come in and see us today for all your financial needs, a nice cup of herbal tea, and a vegan friendly, gluten free, snack.

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I like to so.

By Admin on May 16, 2012

So there’s this thing I’m finding so annoying right now, and it’s so been bugging me for a while, but I can’t find a solution to the problem. So instead I’m going to so rant right now, that it’s going to be like so off the scale.

Oh and this blog post is so directed at Apple so much, so there.

So if you have an Apple product with that so called “autocorrect” or as it is so called by so many people, “fuck you with monkey balls you dipshitted croissant”, then you will know how much it enjoys screwing up perfectly good sentences, to so say the wrong thing. Heck there are even websites that have claimed many a working hour, while you read about how someone wants to go down on their grandmother’s goat, when what they actually typed was “Got milk?”

But there is one thing that really pisses me off, and it’s the autocorrecting of perfectly good and acceptable words, to different words, which puts a whole new meaning on what’s being said, or just makes you look like a window licker who has no comprehension of English.

So Apple, I ask you this. Why the fucking flying fuck do you see the need to change the word “so” to “do” every single fucking time I type it?

Do you know how annoying it has been to type this blog post out on one of your products? I’ve worn out the backspace key, which is pretty fucking amazing, given this device has no physical keyboard.

Ok, so I get it, you want to make the world a better place, by stopping underpant exposing, crooked hat wearing, asymmetrical haircut devotees, from writing crap like “Sup watz yo fkn djhdcjnon” but for the love of microchips, so stop correcting my use of the word so, or I will do do you.

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