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Mitzi

Mitzi is a SciFi/Dark Fantasy piece that explores consciousness and the potential relationship with cyberspace. i think it also explores the power of love Read the full article

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Why Bother with creating anything?

Last evening, I had a visit from a friend that I used to work with 35 years ago. Although he is five or so years younger than me, we were kindred spirits then, both having a love for similar types of music and being guitar players. We lost contact after I moved back to Ararat and he moved down to Melbourne, seeking to break into the music scene. He gave it the serious shot that I never dared to. I admire him greatly for that.But giving it a serious shot is never enough when you're in the business of creating. You need to have a fair slice of luck as well. The stars have to align. Right place, right time, right connections. You need all three, plus a fair slice of talent, confidence and ego. Even then, it's little more than a lottery.The dice are loaded before you start, so why bother trying?Creating is part of who we areI think it was Frank Zappa who once said that every child is an artist until he is told he isn't.That's spot on. We are born to create and yet the system discourages creative pursuits as either silly, self-indulgent or puerile. Is it any wonder that most of us never dare to let people see our creative side. I know, that I spent a considerable portion of my younger years stifling and hiding mine. In doing so. I denied a large part of who I was. But you can't hide from who you are forever. Sooner or later, the creative process emerges in a variety of ways.Often it amounts to little more than noodling. Occasionally, though that noodling develops into something else. A couple of notes that had been running around my brain for three decades morphed into a song. Stuff wanders into my subconscious, and percolates away until it just comes out on paper. There's no telling if other people are going to like it. When it's ready it comes out. It's literally trying t catch lightning in a bottle. One day you might get lucky, most of the time you're going to miss the mark.Photo by Rakicevic Nenad from PexelsMy friend and I skated across all of this as two creative types can. We have much in common. Both of us can write reasonably well. We're still trying to capture that elusive spark that both of us have almost grasped. Neither of us is frustrated. There's always tomorrow. Maybe that's the day things will catch fire. Creating makes life enoyableArt for art's sake is a phrase that I can really identify with. In the end creating is a simple act of raging against the dying light. We have something to say and we want to leave our mark. The system does not encourage art for art's sake. But the need for all of us to express ourselves in one way or another is enduring and eternal.Find your spark. Express yourself and don't give a fig about the inevitable criticisms. Make a difference, however small.

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Success tasted dirty stale and repugnant

I know success. Or so it would seem.Before I was thirty I was the Accountant at a small country branch of the Commonwealth Bank. By the time I'd reached fourty I was managing two branches for the same organisation and was on a salary I couldn't jump over. The bonuses on offer were the types of bonuses that blurred lines and made concepts such as integrity seem rather quaint.To an outsider, I seemed to be quite successful. In fact one of my schoolfriend's mother was moved to admit to my mother, "He turned out to be the best of the lot of them." It must have come as quite a shock to her, as I was perceived to be the bad influence on her son. Nothing is ever as it seems. I was neither the bad influence nor the success that she believed me to be.She was an outsider. Status and income were her markers. She's no lone ranger there. That's the way society operates. Complete the checklist, keep up with the Jones' and never ever ask the happy question.Does success mean happiness?At approximately the same time that my friend's mother was acknowledging my perceived success, I was going through quite a crisis. I hated my job. I always had. Yet I felt compelled to push on. There were mouths to feed and the job market wasn't exactly booming. The job that I had fallen into after wandering through school had become my own personal prison. I suppose that's what I deserved, given my lack of ambition and general apathy.The trouble was that banking was as easy as falling off a log to me. There was no great intellectual rigour required. It was just about matching people's needs to products. People managment had been challenging at first but after a while became second nature. Provided you didn't think too much about bank policy and direction it was easy money.But it was about as rewarding as cutting my toenails. I was also starting to have real problems with the ethics of my employer. It was causing me a lot of heartache and I was struggling to sleep. If this was success I didn't like the taste of it. On my half hour drive home I'd often catch myself wondering what my younger companions would make of the sellout that I'd become. I didn't like the question or the answer much. I had sold out and my thirty pieces of silver amounted to a fat salary, rising anxiety and a respected place in the community. I'd willingly traded whatever my hopes and dreams may have been for a steady job that paid the bills long before I settled down with a family. I was successful in my career but I sure as hell wasn't happy. That's because my career path sucked.That's when I dusted my brain off and began to write.I hadn't written anything other than the occassional letter since I'd left school. Despite massive encouragement from several well meaning teachers, I had effectively shut that creative part of me down. There were reasons for that - none of them good. I started writing longhand, then was given an old word processor by a friend. The words took a while to flow. I found myself writing fiction for a while and started to get some work published in pulp magazines with exotic sounding names like Mindmares, Andromeda Spaceways, and Masque Noir. Publishers actually paid me for this. It was at that time the biggest professional buzz, I'd ever had. I began a cycle of rising at 5.00am, writing for an hour and a half and then preparing for my "professional" working day.I submitted literally hundreds of stories. The strike rate was maybe one in fifty but every time I received an acceptance, something long buried inside me rose closer to the surface.At that point my successful career was doomed.I saw a way out. It wasn't going to be easy, but the feelings of self affirmation made the prospect appealing. There were several false starts and missteps. I left Commonwealth Bank, got scared and joined Bendigo Bank. The itch wouldn't go away. I simply had to find a way to make my writing pay.I experimented with SEO and affiliate marketing, wrote dozens of information products and continued to write fiction. Some of it felt good. Eventually I took the big leap of faith and stumbled on a crisis of self doubt.The security of a regular wage suddenly seemed very appealing. Those self doubts circled and fed upon my doubts. My productivity dropped dangerously and demons long forgotten surfaced in my psyche. I started to question my worth and my very sanity.By chance I stumbled across a freelancing site and started to bid for work. The gigs started to add up and slowly, my self confidence returned. I'm never going to earn the sort of money that I earned when I was "successful" but I figure I'm going to live a lot longer. I sleep well at night. Success is not what is seemsStrangely, I feel more successful now than I ever did when I was pulling the big bucks. A lot of the work I do is not exactly cutting edge, but it allows me enough flexibility to express myself. The money is enough. That doesn't make me a success. What does is my own sense of self worth. I like what I do and that's worth everything.I know success. It isn't what the world thinks of you, it is what you think of yourself.Peace====================================================Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts about this subject. Please share it on Facebook, Twitter or any other platform that you hang out on. Please leave comments. I read them all.As a freelance writer I need all the help I can get. To support my writing please visit my about/support page to find out how you can help ( I don’t expect you to put your hand in your pocket)

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Drawing From My Infinite Dark Well

When I was hungry for success, I used to rise at 5.00 am and write for 2 hours straight before getting ready for my paid job. There was no shortage of material. I had a bottomless dark well from which I could draw. The stories flowed. Some contained barely restrained anger; others reflected my deep cynicism about how the world worked. A few seemingly came out of nowhere. An exception to the rule was an award-winning story called Rosa's Place, which drew on some song lyrics, a chance experience and fairly well-worn tropes. Every morning without fail. I used to subscribe to this paperback monthly called Scavenger's Newsletter. It would list all the small press magazines accepting submissions. I'd pick out the most likely and submit my work. Everything was done by snail mail. The process from submission to rejection or occasional acceptance was treacle-like. Getting published was such a buzz, but the remuneration was barely enough to pay for stamps and paper. The competition was intense. Many well-known writers were ploughing the same fields. The business model was not sustainable, but I loved writing and hated my job. There are a lot of ways to earn a crust writing, but your head and heart have to be in them. You can't bluff your way through. One of the worst decisions I have made in my writing career was to stop drawing from the dark well and focus on "more profitable" writing channels. I covered the dark well and relied upon my conscious skills to fulfil whatever I thought I was looking for. The last piece I wrote was what felt like the opening chapter of a sci-fi/dark fantasy novel. But I didn't know what to do with it. It felt like I'd written myself into a dark corner without planning a way out. Other more lucrative writing projects beckoned, and the story was allowed to sit forgotten. My life took a severe turn for the worse for a while. That usually happens when we forget who we are and try to be someone else. I'm not going to retread that old ground. Been there, done that, moved on. Part of my recovery involved extensively writing about elements of my life that I had suppressed and ignored. The process was cathartic not only because it allowed me to confront my demons but more importantly, it allowed me to tap into that subconscious part of me where the good stuff comes from. Ultimately, that process resulted in my book Postcards From Hell, which I think put a final full stop to what had been a traumatic but necessary period. One of the things that learned over that period is that we can't run from who we are. I uncovered the dark well and peered into the depths. Was there anything still there? I didn't know for sure, but I had to find out. My old material was dusted off and reread. Some of it seemed better than I remembered. Bits needed to be polished, but there were good stories there -stories that deserve to see the light of day. I got excited. That piece that felt like the beginning of a novel has been reprised, and I'm now eight chapters in and drawing from the dark well daily. So the plan for the coming year is simple - 1/Release the best of my stories in collections of short stories, Dark Weird Stuff due out on January 6, 2023, and - Dark Byways of Possibility which will be released as an eBook only two weeks later. 2/ Finish this novel that has a working title of Elsewhere 3/ Find whatever else is waiting to be drawn from my dark well. It feels like I've come home.

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Why do I write such weird dark stuff?

Excerpt from Random Soul Audit I get that question a lot. Sometimes I ask it myself. Why write weird dark stuff? I really don't know the answer. It just comes out. That's a cop-out. You and I both know it. Nothing comes from nothing. That weird dark stuff must come from somewhere - so where? I guess part of the answer comes in the form of a rhetorical question. Why do people read that stuff? I can answer that question, at least from my own personal point of view. You see, I've read libraries of weird dark stuff ranging from King's Dark Tower series right through to hundreds of "pulp" stories churned out by obscure writers in what is called the "small press." I'm a sucker for a good story. if I get through the first two paragraphs I'm all in. Those first two paragraphs should grab me by the throat and not let go. Dark weird stuff tends to do that far more often than stories about sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.

The dark man fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed...

Now, that's the kind of opening sentence that invites curiosity and sets up a story. What is the chase about? Who are the adversaries? What is in dispute? Why cross the desert? Can the Dark Man be caught? Why is he running? What happens when the two adversaries meet? I'm willing to bet that when Stephen King wrote the opening line of the Dark Tower Series he had a range of similar questions because that's the essence of good story writing - the writer doesn't know the story when they start either. Fiction writing is the art of tapping into the subconscious to put flesh and bone on a fragment of an idea. Story writing can't be taught. The structured essay format when applied to fiction is stifling and counterproductive. Formulas kill good stories. In reviewing the stories in my forthcoming anthology of dark weird stuff, I was constantly asking, "Where did that come from?" Not so much in relation to the idea, but where the story went. Some recurring themes are evident- a twisted view of religion evident in stories like Statue and Last Miracle, an underlying mistrust of authority notable in Random Soul Audit, Clone and others and an underlying fear of technology being used for less than altruistic purposes (The Player, Firebugs, Mitzi). These themes no longer surprise me. I understand where they come from, having worked through my own personal demons. But there is something else going on that sort of balances those negative themes.

Excerpt from Mitzi Writing weird dark stuff allows me to put good people in various degrees of dark situations. I put their feet to the fire and see how they react. They don't always win. That's not the way the world works. Sometimes, they fail the test. However, in many cases, there seems that my belief in the essential goodness of people breaks through and if it doesn't win the day, it gives it one hell of a fight,

I think that I have to write as I do.

There is no choice. I go where my subconscious takes me. And my subconscious self has been screaming to be heard. Part of my journey has involved a retrospective look at the darkness that enveloped me as a young man and a recognition that the world has equal elements of light and dark. My writing has been exploring that twilight zone seemingly, forever. The result has been some dark entertaining stories.

Excerpt from Statue So, I invite you, dear reader, to read my forthcoming book, Dark Weird Stuff (Book 1) and explore the darkness within all of us. You can keep up to date with my progress and get a sample story by subscribing below. Only by feeling the dark can we ever appreciate the light.' Get  Your Sample Story Now!EmailName Feature Photo by Wendelin Jacober at Pexels Read the full article

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Rediscovering the joy of writing speculative fiction after a long hiatus

I have always been a writer, although at times I've done my very best to pretend that I'm not. In fact, for most of my life, writing has been such a natural thing for me, that I've kind of taken it for granted and that hasn't been all that beneficial. For a while, I wrote the full gamut of what is broadly described as speculative fiction - horror, sci-fi, dark fantasy and other shades of weirdness. A lot of it was published in various small press magazines. I got a real buzz out of it.

An early success One day, I just stopped. I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe the well went dry. Perhaps I couldn't find the time. Or maybe I got a little frightened that I wasn't good enough. There's probably a little bit of truth in each of those statements. The last piece of speculative fiction that I wrote held a clue. It was a piece that came out of nowhere (all the best stuff does) and its conclusion left me wanting to explore the themes further and extend the story into a novel. There were so many threads, themes and unanswered questions lurking in those 4000-odd words that further chapters simply had to be written. And yet, I could not do it. I tried attacking it from multiple angles but when the words came, they seemed forced and inferior to that initial piece. So, I gave up.

The lie

I continued to write but steered clear of anything resembling fiction. "There wasn't enough money in it," I lied as if money was ever the reason. The lie has lain dormant waiting to be exposed for at least ten years. I've been scratching around it hesitantly for a few months. The trigger was that last piece, a hard copy of which has been stuffed in a drawer all this time. The story still demands exploration. I've been trying without a lot of success. It's been quite a painful exercise and I have to admit that I've nearly chucked it in on a couple of occasions. While I've been wrestling with this, I've also been searching for the hard disk where I'd stored all my previous speculative fiction. Sure, I had some scattered around in various magazines, but I wanted all of it. For some reason, I'd come to believe that those stories contained the key that would unlock the story that I wanted to write.

Rediscovering the key to writing speculative fiction

About 10 days ago, I found about 95% of them and to be honest, I'm kind of blown away. I have no idea where some of that stuff came from and that's the key. I realised that my best speculative fiction literally comes out of nowhere sparked by a vague idea. There was no plan, no structure, and no reason. I just tapped in and let the story take me where it wanted to go. I had forgotten that. It's been a joy to rediscover that - even if it means that the work I'd done on my novel has to be discarded. I need to follow the story where it leads, rather than lead it where I think it should go. Writing speculative fiction is in a sense, counter-intuitive to much of my professional writing. That professional writing is methodical, focused, planned and well, let's be honest, pretty damn boring. I've been out of speculative writing for so long that I'd kind of lost my sense of how to write it. it isn't so much writing ...but feeling if that makes sense.

So, what now?

I'm no spring chicken. Writing content is safe and secure but has the hallmarks of sputtering to the forgettable close that I tried to avoid by quitting banking. My blog has served mainly as a creative and at times emotional outlet. It will expire shortly after I do. There is an increasing urgency to create something worthwhile. The novel demands to be written. I'm not sure where that takes me and that's exciting but I don't plan to stop there. You see, I have all these stories that I want you to read. Some of them need some polish. Others should be toned down a little (Clive Barker's Books of Blood reads like an Enid Blyton Book in comparison). A couple of them are pretty damn good as they are. So, I'm working feverishly to make them presentable and to put them into some sort of order. I'm not sure what format I'll release them in. I'm still working through some logistics but one way or another I aim to publish them all this year. That means that all other projects (and there are at least 5) will be taking a back seat and my content work will continue for the time being. I've come to realise that I'm not just a writer. I am a speculative fiction writer and always have been. it's time that I shared that with you and I can't wait. Read the full article

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The good that "ordinary" people do

I am privileged to have come into contact with some extraordinary people. I am even more privileged to call some of them my friends. None of these people is well known. Some of them prefer anonymity. They have no need to shout their achievements from the rooftops. All the "buzz" comes from doing the deed. The telling is not necessary. Praise is met with a wry smile and a shrug of the shoulders. "I'm just doing what anyone else would do if they had the chance." Yeah, right. We live in an insane time where virtue signalling has become a near right of passage. Parroting popular views or politically correct ones at least serve to give us some sort of validation. It has become more important to talk the talk than to walk the walk. No one notices the walkers. Everyone applauds the talkers. It could be depressing, but there are thousands of walkers walking their walk every day. They're the ordinary people who rarely, if ever, appear in your social media feed. You'll find them if you keep your eyes and ears open.

The act of giving

I was totally gobsmacked to discover one of these saints hidden in plain sight. I won't name him because he'd prefer to remain anonymous, but what he's doing deserves a medal. For the sake of this article, I'm going to call him the Axeman. The Axeman and I have a fair bit in common. We're both musicians. We've both had our difficulties. Neither of us could be considered conformists. He's a little younger. Some would call him a recluse, but from what I can tell, he, like me, would prefer the company of his family and close friends than to be surrounded by the maddening crowd. We've swapped enough stories over the years for us to understand that we've both been there, done that and moved on. We both still like a drink, but our full guns blazing days are long gone. People are quick to judge the Axeman. He's a big bloke who rides a Harley and looks quite fearsome to strangers. He understands why judgements are made but that doesn't stop the hurt. In truth, the Axeman is as gentle and as kind a man as you can possibly imagine. The Axeman has had his struggles and I'm not going to go into details here. He could be a bitter and twisted soul. He isn't. In fact, he's quite the opposite. The Axeman gets his kicks by giving to others in a unique and quite inspiring way.

The Axeman giveth...axes

Yesterday, my friend shared an exchange he'd had with someone trying to sell what was a cheap guitar for $500 on the Facebook marketplace. The Axeman quite rightly pointed out that the guitar in question was retailing brand new for under $200. We had a bit of a chuckle about that and then, out of nowhere, my friend let it slip that he'd been buying these cheap guitars, refitting them with quality EMG or DiMarzio pickups and Gotoh guitar tuners and then giving them away to young talented musicians who otherwise couldn't afford them. The Axeman says that he's getting a blast out of equipping young talented souls with custom-built guitars that "blow the rich kids Stratocasters away." He's mighty proud of the guitars that he's building but chooses not to celebrate his achievements in the social media echo chamber out of respect for the recipient kid's parents. He says he's becoming addicted to the process. I think it's a pretty good addiction to have. Of course, being a musician, he appreciates the gift that music is. He is saddened by the number of kids not getting the opportunity to play an instrument. He says that he's just doing his bit. It's a familiar tale. My friend and I have talked around but never about the subject of the legacy that we leave our children. I don't think that he has much to worry about. The good that he unobtrusively does speaks volumes. I doubt if he ever really stops to think about the positive impact that he's having. He's having too much fun. I suspect that there is something in that. The more we give the more we receive. There's a lot of good ordinary people in the world. I've probably met more than I know of. People don't need to tell you how righteous or generous they are. That seems to be the preserve of tricksters and conmen. It's time that we celebrated the Axemen of the world. I'm willing to bet that there are a lot more of them than we know. Photo by Markus Spiske: https://www.pexels.com/photo/music-rock-guitar-instrument-92069/ Read the full article

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Everything goes to hell when the accountants take over

Accountants perform valuable functions. They can count, apply ratios, prepare reports and highlight areas of concern. Their profession is conservative and rightly so. Numbers are their domain. They're very good at it and they know it. But... there is a subset of accountants who want to control everything. In their eyes, everything can be measured, weighed and accounted for. Numbers rule. Algorithms are written to reflect probability. Possibilities are to be ignored. Sure things are all that matters. Whenever they are given too much power in the running of a business, it invariably goes to hell. Sure, the business will still make a profit, but ever so slowly its life and very soul is squeezed to death. Innovation dries up. Forms are completed on time. Checklists are filed. Passion dies.

I've seen this in action.

I've written before about my experiences with the Commonwealth Bank, but I've never written about the institution I switched to. When I joined Bendigo Bank, I could not believe how alive it was. At that time, its CEO, Rob Hunt was pioneering what could have been a revolution. The bank forged real partnerships with local communities and through various mechanisms shared a portion of its profits with the community. This was not some tokenistic exercise, like throwing a sum of money at a local community body. This was central to the operations of the bank. For a crusty old cynic like me, it was mind-blowing. I embraced it wholeheartedly. Then Rob Hunt retired shortly after Bendigo acquired a similar-sized bank in a merger. Gradually the community drive lost its momentum. Many of the new executives in the merged institution had the accountant's mindset. Pretty soon, the ridiculous tracking practices that my previous employer engaged in were being implemented. Targets for target's sake were whispered about. Community involvement started to get pigeonholed and the formulas so carefully crafted by Mr Hunt were fiddled with to give the bank greater margins. The place lost its authenticity. I'd seen this movie before. It was a matter of time before I walked away.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels Bean counters don't understand people. They understand numbers. You can't quantify enthusiasm or initiative. Nor can you measure the value of a warm greeting and a friendly smile. How do you even begin to measure potential? Good business sense requires good people skills and an understanding that people are not robots. Some of the very best people that I ever worked with took time to nurture and encourage to their full potential. I've had to go in to bat for them because the numbers didn't show what I saw. People can't be categorised. They grow and blossom, or they wither and die. If the accountant's mentality can restrain a business, it runs amok in government, where bureaucrats are sufficiently removed from the consequences of their actions to let statistics rule without question.

Numbers can be twisted to tell the tale you want to tell.

Governments keep changing the formula to report unemployment and inflation rates for no other reason than they can. Politicians are totally poll-driven. Bizarrely, polls can be massaged to deliver distorted views. Money is thrown around like confetti to show that governments of all hues care. Accountants disguised as bureaucrats write reports to show that the "new initiatives" are working. The data supplied to them is often "managed". People on the ground don't see any significant change, regardless of what the numbers say. The health system in this country is an unmitigated disaster. It is measured to the nth degree but service delivery is an apparent abstract concept that always looks good on shiny charts but falls down when you need an ambulance. Every element of government service delivery is measured, tracked and quantified by accountants and then spun by an army of consultants. Bludgers and malingerers are tracked down and shamed by entire departments. People were harassed mercilessly by the Robodebt system for rorts that they never rorted. The accountants shrugged their shoulders. The numbers couldn't be wrong. The numbers were. Noone in authority paid the price.

It was a glitch in the system

The numbers needed to be reworked. Apologies were hard to come by. Those pesky bludgers were out there...somewhere. More accountants were needed. More pubic servants were recruited. The numbers couldn't lie. The numbers cracked a nut with a sledgehammer. That was money not well spent. But the forms continue and the call centres really want to take your call, even though your waiting time is fifty minutes. This is efficiency, you see. "I'm sorry sir, your claim has been denied because you didn't tick the box in clause x on line 23. No correspondence will be entered into and have a nice day. If you would like to complain, press 9 and your waiting time is fifty-five minutes. We accept this because we've been conditioned to. We are told that government needs to tighten its belt until some bombs need to be dropped or a debt creating "event" can be bid for (Commonwealth Games Dan?).

It's time that we put people first

Not everything can be measured in numbers. In fact., almost all of the really important stuff can't be. Accountants are not trained to recognise this. It's time they were shown their place. Let the people with drive, enthusiasm, dare and passion get in the driver's seat and drive and let's see what happens. we'll need accountants to measure that of course...that's what they're good at.

Ararat Factory. A victim of number crunching on a national scale Read the full article

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Memories of caught Marsh Bowled Lillee — Hive

the man gave every ounce Read the full article

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Reflections on the path to forgiveness of self

My book, Postcards From Hell was a cathartic process for me. I never expected it to grace the New York Times Best Seller list, but found it vitally important to publish it. The book is many things. It s a confession of sorts, a reckoning with demons and ultimately a journey to forgiveness. I don't think it is a book to relax with. I don't really know if it makes its point well enough. That's for others to judge. Most of the feedback I've received has been positive and a surprising number of men have identified with some of the themes I raise. In the end, none of that matters. What matters most to me, is that in the act of writing the various pieces that make up the book's central premise, I was able to come to terms with various elements of guilt, shame, grief and anger. In writing those pieces, I allowed a lot of pent up emotion, self-loathing and turmoil to be released. In publishing them, I was making a statement. This is the worst of me and this is why I acted the way I did.

It was the final act of forgiveness.

Forgiveness is always a choice. I'd wrongly chosen to punish myself for the best part of thirty-five years. The negative self-talk and the ongoing internal criticism were apt punishments for my own perceived crimes. I chose to think that way. No one made me. When the crash inevitably came and the pus-filled boils of my psyche were finally lanced, there was a need to express myself in a way that I had not done before. I'm not much of a talker. That's never going to change, but when I sit down to write, everything tends to come out in a rush. I'd never dared to open the can of worms that was inside me. Once I did, I couldn't put the lid back on. Getting things down "on paper" helped me to see things more clearly and to understand that we should never define ourselves by our mistakes. That realisation was incredibly liberating for me and once the ball started rolling, it wasn't going to stop until I was done. It was the most cleansing act that I have ever experienced.

Ownership and acceptance are the first step

I'm not saying that it was easy. At times, it was really confronting. I found that I had to take ownership of emotions that I'd avoided by suppressing them. Then, I had to accept that it was perfectly natural to have these feelings and to admit to having them. Liberation was again the overwhelming feeling that came with ownership and acceptance. I managed to quiet the situations and conversations that have been on heavy rotation inside my head for decades. They're still there and they get a run every now and again, but I'm aware of the process and can (with some effort) extricate myself from the "eternal loop of doom," choosing instead to focus on what I have done well. Knowing that there is always a choice is perhaps the most difficult thing to realise.

Moving on

We are all products of our experiences. The good and the bad. There is a saying that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Maybe that's true. But if our inner self dies are we still alive? The journey to inner peace is a long and winding road. I'm nowhere near my destination, but I've managed to resurrect most of who I am and look forward to who I could be. That's what forgiveness of self has done for me. Read the full article

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10 Books that changed my life one way or another

I was once an avid reader. A good book would have me immersed in a whole new world that allowed me to escape from whatever I was running from. I'd like to rediscover that. As a first step, I spent some time posting some book covers of books that left a mark on me on social media. Ten was nowhere near enough, but you have to stop somewhere.

Honourable mentions - books that didn't make the cut

Some of these books are better than my top ten. Some like To Kill a Mockingbird are acknowledged classics. Others like Blood Music are mind-bending. My top 10 is simply the ten books that had the most impact upon me. So here are the honourable mentions in no particular order. - Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. Nostalgic but gripping. - Carrie by Stephen King. The first part was pulled out of the rubbish bin by his wife Tabitha. Just as well. - The Books of Blood by Clive Barker. A collection of short stories that pushed the horror genre envelope. - Schindler's Ark by Thomas Kenneally. Schindler brought to life with remarkable storytelling. The line "Their livers glowed like embers," used to describe two men drinking has sat with me forever, as does the story. Spielberg's movie IS NOT AS GOOD. - Blood Music by Greg Bear. Bear in my opinion is the best Sci Fi writer on the planet because he understands the folly of humanity. Blood Music in my opinion is his best work. - To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I'm pretty sure that this was the first book that told me that the world can be an ugly place. I could go on but you have to draw a line somewhere. Besides, I want to get to the meat and potatoes. Here are my all-time top 10 books that influenced me. They are placed in reverse order but could flip around on any given day. All of these are highly recommended. Some might be hard going but every one of them is worth it.

Number 10 The Complete Works of H.P. Lovecraft H P Lovecraft

Lovecraft had a hell of an imagination. Either that or he had a good LSD supplier. His writing these days would be described as pretentious and way too wordy. But there's no doubt that he could tell a story. Anyone who has aspirations of being a dark fantasy or horror writer should read Lovecraft. He created an entire mythos around Chtulu but for all his wordiness and imagination, he understood that the best way to grab a reader by the throat and not let go was to build the tension and leave things unsaid rather than go for the gross-out. Spellbinding at his best. Always entertaining. Every horror writer who is anybody has paid homage to the Lovecraftian world at some stage or another.

Number 9 I Wish I Had Duck Feet Theo LeSieg (Dr Seuss)

How do I explain this? It was the first book that I owned and read all by myself. At one point I could recite it word for word. I had no idea until writing this that Theo LeSieg was a pen name for Dr Seuss but on some level, it always felt like a Dr Seuss book. Now I know that it was. Duck feet, whale's spout, elephant's trunk and tiger's tail. I wanted all of those things until the reasons for not having them were pointed out I'll probably get banned from Facebook for mentioning Dr Seuss, not that I care much.

Number 8 The Hobbit JRR Tolkien

Perhaps it is because I read the Hobbit first, but I always enjoyed it more than the trilogy that is Lord of the Rings. the Hobbit in my opinion is not as ambitious and focuses on the story rather than any symbolism. The language is at times difficult. Tolkien is almost, but not quite as wordy as Lovecraft and that tends to wear you down after a while. the Hobbit is a simple story that gave rise to a whole sword and sorcery world for me to explore. (Special mention here to a book called Neq the sword that I read in primary school and had forgotten all about until I started writing this.) The sword and sorcery theme is something that followed me into early adulthood as I followed bands like Led Zeppelin, Dio and to a lesser extent Iron Maiden who all seemed to be on more than nodding terms with the genre.

Number 7 QB VII Leon Uris

Again, a book that was read in my junior primary years. This was perhaps the first adult book that I ever read. Some of the lines in it have always stuck with me. Uris has his critics, but this left a huge impression on me and introduced me to some really deep concepts like the nature of evil, the power of reputation and the indescribable cruelty that we humans are capable of. Uris intentionally draws Dr Adam Kelno as a likeable character that can be empathised with. His denouement is at once devastating and just.

Number 6 Last Exit to Brooklyn Hubert Selby Jr

Not for the faint-hearted nor the squeamish. Last Exit to Brooklyn has been described as "a punch to the face," and it is an apt description. I read this when I was fourteen or fifteen and I was transfixed from cover to cover. There are no heroes in this book, and nothing good happens to anyone. And yet I was drawn to the flawed humanity in all of the characters. The book is a series of loosely connected stories describing life in the seedier parts of Brooklyn n the 1950s. It was briefly banned for being obscene. I can see why, but don't regard the book as being obscene. It is confronting, vicious, cold and in your face, certainly not the subject matter that fourteen-year-old schoolboys should have been able to get their hands on, but it feels real. Selby shows a complete disregard for the conventions of grammar, but once you start reading, you don't notice.

Number 5 Farenheit 451 Ray Bradbury

Bradbury was a genius. His three best works were all under consideration for this list. Something Wicked This Way Comes being the first eliminated because it simply doesn't have as much to say as Dandelion Wine or this. Bradbury saw cancel culture coming thirty or forty years before it began to raise its ugly head. Consider this quote and let it roll around in your brain for a while. "‘Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of ‘facts’ they feel stuffed, but absolutely ‘brilliant’ with information. Then they’ll feel they’re thinking, they’ll get a sense of motion without moving. And they’ll be happy, because facts of that sort don’t change. Don’t give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.'" And that's where we are.

Number 4 Of Mice and Men John Steinbeck

On the face of it, a very simple tale about workers in the great depression, Of MIce and men manages to wring every last ounce of humanity out of what seems to be an unpreventable tragedy which is no one's fault. This made me cry. That's something I've never really admitted before. Steinbeck was every bit the genius that Bradbury was - just a different type of genius.

Number 3 Lord of the Flies William Golding

There's something intangible about this book that touches way too close to the bone. The mob rules savagery that this bunch of well educated British boys descend into explores the darkest part of our souls. We all know it and we've all tasted it. There is always a need for an outcast and a fall guy. We all want to belong. Sometimes it's simply easier to blend into the anonymity of the mob than to stand up for what is right. The mob can always justify its behaviour, While we are part of it, we are immune from censure or punishment. How far that goes depends entirely upon circumstances. Kill the Pig Bash him in is a line much more horrific and chilling than anything Hubert Selby Jnr ever wrote. That's because it could so easily be you or I chanting that line.

Number 2 The Drawing of the Three Stephen King

King has written some amazing stuff. Most of his best work is not in the horror genre. Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, Apt Pupil, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon and Mr Mercedes all had me in their spell. King has three strengths that set him apart from most. His storytelling ability, his incredible observations of human behaviour and the characters he creates. I've always believed his best work was the first three books of the Dark Tower Series. Those first three books were written by a young man with vision and hunger. The last four were written years afterwards and never quite hit the standard of the first three. Perhaps that's because Roland becomes more human as the story goes on, perhaps it's because King was more committed to the story when he was younger. I don't know. What I do know is that the first two books were under serious consideration for a spot in the top 10 from day one. the Drawing of the three gets the nod, mainly because it introduces a character who is my favourite King character. Eddie Dean reminds me of a friend that I lost a long time ago. His character grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go. If you haven't read the Dark Tower, pay no attention to the movie. It does it no justice. Ka is a wheel

1984 George Orwell

This should be compulsory reading for every student in every country. Orwell gives a chilling vision of a totalitarian state where "the party" has total control. Thoughtcrime, wrongspeak, badthink and doublethink are all concepts that seemed utterly alien when I read the book in 1980 or thereabouts. Now they all seem frighteningly real. I have seen the memes that say 1984 was meant to be a warning, not a how-to manual. I don't laugh at them anymore. If we're not there yet, we're getting frightfully close. War is Peace, ignorance is Strength, Freedom is Slavery . Welcome to my nightmare Read the full article

[independentaussie]

And the moment was gone

This morning, I was up early. The sun hadn't quite risen when I embarked on my morning walk. It was cool and I appreciated the welcome breeze that I'd been longing for. As I made my way back, I caught a glimpse of the reddening sky as the clouds reflected the rising sun. It was awesome. By the time that I'd decided that I wanted to take a photo, the sun had risen that fraction further and the colours had faded. The moment was gone. I cursed the fact that I'd missed the photo and then realised that I'd probably witnessed something that most people never see, or if they do, take for granted. I was "blessed" to have seen it. That got me thinking.

How many moments have I missed?

We can't get them back. Moments present themselves to be appreciated and then they're gone. In a previous post, I mentioned that as I emerged from darkness, I'd taken time to "watch the clouds" and appreciate that the best things in life are free. We aren't here for a long time and it seems that we spend an inordinate amount of time being distracted by things that we either have no control over or don't really matter. I am reminded of reading a Stephen King book where he listed his top 100 horror stories. Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury was on the list. I borrowed it from the library and was confused by its contents. It was a nostalgic tale about Bradbury's childhood and then it gradually dawned on me. There is only now. We can't go back, nor can we go forward. Life is to be savoured, There is joy to be found in the minutiae and randomness of life. The trick is not to miss it. To live alife and not realise that you are alive would be horrific. And yet, that is how our society is structured. Work, consume, sleep, work, consume, die. That is not how it is meant to be. Wisdom comes slowly. By the time we can start to grasp what this crazy business is about, there's every chance that the sand will have all but run through the hourglass. When I am eighty will I be regretting not seeing the moments that have passed me by? Will it matter?

That moment is gone forever

We can't get it back. Trips to the Test matches with my grandfather where he regaled me with stories of Hobbs, Sutcliffe and of course, Bradman. A smile shared across a crowded room. Endless summers of childhood where we charged through sprinklers on lush green lawns. Innocence. That euphoric feeling of being "in love" for the first time. Catching my first fish. The smell of rain on a summer's day. Racing billy carts down a steep hill at breakneck speed with no regard for life or limb. The enormity of becoming a parent. A blood moon on a summer's night. My grandmother telling me not to be such a fool and smiling as she said it. My child walking beside me and holding my hand. chattering with excitement, energy and life. Life doesn't get any better than this. Letting go... Picking strawberries with my Aunty Lucy when I was four. Stupid jokes and mad pranks. Riding through the back streets of a town that no longer exists, perched on the handlebars of my Uncle John's motorbike. The frisson of getting the cuts for the first time at school. Playing Aussie rules with my mates. They are just memories now. Did I appreciate those moments for what they were?

What's it all about?

Wiser people than I have endeavoured to answer that question and come up short, I'm not going to try. There is no doubt though, that we have been granted an enormous privilege to be here. It's kind of a waste to spend what little time we have accumulating meaningless possessions when there is so much to see for the first time, even if we've walked past it a thousand times before. Live in the moment, savour it, drink it in. Don't hold back. It is, after all, yours to appreciate. If you blink it will be gone. Read the full article

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Why Bother with creating anything?

Last evening, I had a visit from a friend that I used to work with 35 years ago. Although he is five or so years younger than me, we were kindred spirits then, both having a love for similar types of music and being guitar players. We lost contact after I moved back to Ararat and he moved down to Melbourne, seeking to break into the music scene. He gave it the serious shot that I never dared to. I admire him greatly for that. But giving it a serious shot is never enough when you're in the business of creating. You need to have a fair slice of luck as well. The stars have to align. Right place, right time, right connections. You need all three, plus a fair slice of talent, confidence and ego. Even then, it's little more than a lottery. The dice are loaded before you start, so why bother trying?

Creating is part of who we are

I think it was Frank Zappa who once said that every child is an artist until he is told he isn't. That's spot on. We are born to create and yet the system discourages creative pursuits as either silly, self-indulgent or puerile. Is it any wonder that most of us never dare to let people see our creative side. I know, that I spent a considerable portion of my younger years stifling and hiding mine. In doing so. I denied a large part of who I was. But you can't hide from who you are forever. Sooner or later, the creative process emerges in a variety of ways. Often it amounts to little more than noodling. Occasionally, though that noodling develops into something else. A couple of notes that had been running around my brain for three decades morphed into a song. Stuff wanders into my subconscious, and percolates away until it just comes out on paper. There's no telling if other people are going to like it. When it's ready it comes out. It's literally trying t catch lightning in a bottle. One day you might get lucky, most of the time you're going to miss the mark.

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad from Pexels My friend and I skated across all of this as two creative types can. We have much in common. Both of us can write reasonably well. We're still trying to capture that elusive spark that both of us have almost grasped. Neither of us is frustrated. There's always tomorrow. Maybe that's the day things will catch fire.

Creating makes life enoyable

Art for art's sake is a phrase that I can really identify with. In the end creating is a simple act of raging against the dying light. We have something to say and we want to leave our mark. The system does not encourage art for art's sake. But the need for all of us to express ourselves in one way or another is enduring and eternal. Find your spark. Express yourself and don't give a fig about the inevitable criticisms. Make a difference, however small. Read the full article

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Avi Rosenfeld & Tasos Lazaris Very Classic Very Metal Review

One of the great things about being an underground writer (So far underground that you'd need a mining permit to find me), is that you meet some really interesting creative people. Shortly after publishing my review of Deep Purple's Turning to Crime, I was approached by Israeli guitarist Avi Rosenfeld to review his latest album Very Classic, Very Metal. I agreed to do so without making any promises about what I'd write. It's no secret that I regard the era that Avi's album pays homage to as the golden era of hard rock. If you're going to attempt to wade into that pool, you'd better be able to swim like a fish. So. it's with some delight that I can write that Very Classic Very Metal is good...very good.

Very Classic Very Metal is Classic Hard Rock Rewritten

Avi assured me that I would like what I heard. This is classic hard rock rewritten for today. If you're a fan of Dio, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Rainbow or Deep Purple, you're in for a treat here. The album is attributed to Rosenfeld (lead guitar) and vocalist Tasos Lazaris. they're supported by a range of musicians on keyboards, bass and drums. There isn't a weak track on it. The musicianship is superb and the vocals are from the very top shelf. Here are my thoughts on each track Track 1 Bataclan Oh wow. What an album opener. I couldn't make up my mind if I was reminded of Dio's Stand Up and Shout or We Rock. In the end, it doesn't matter. This straight-up rocks. Lazaris' vocals initially reminded me of Bruce Dickinson here and later on, I caught myself thinking of Doogie White. There's no doubt he's got some pipes. Rosenfeld's guitar work here is really melodic interspersed with some fast runs that tease and promise more to come. Track 2 Rise This has an epic quality about it reminiscent of Iron Maiden and Rainbow's offerings in this area. At times you would swear Bruce Dickinson was doing the vocals. The guitar solo is cleverly structured and melodic. A very solid song. Track 3 Rainbow Far Away A change of pace that shifts us possibly into the realm of Deep Purple MK3 or 4. This is a really interesting composition with a nice keyboard/guitar riff. The vocals sound different here. I'm reminded of Graham Bonnet and then oddly enough Glenn Hughes, it's that Deep Purple Mk4 influence I think. Alcatrazz is another band that would be really at home playing this. Track 4 By the Power of My Sword A great opening riff has me thinking of Yngvie Malsteem and Iron Maiden simultaneously. The vocals are really impressive evoking memories of Rob Halford(Judas Priest) in his prime. The guitar playing here is sublime. It's very melodic, interspersed with some awe-inspiring runs. This guy can really play. In my notes I have written, "combines the best bits of Blackmore with the speed of Malmsteen." I don't think that a guitar player can get higher praise from me than that. Track 5 Hear the Devil The highlight of this track is the classic Hammond organ intro from Michael Berry. If you've ever heard the keyboard solo from Still I'm Sad from Rainbow's On Stage album, you'll be prepared. Overall the song is more reliant on the Hammond than any other track and it sounds reminiscent of something that Uriah Heap would have done. Other than that there's a great little passage towards the end of the song where the keyboards and guitar play along with and off each other. Lord and Blackmore made their mark playing similar passages. Track 6 Birds of Metal On the band's Bandcamp site, Axel states that obtaining Deepest Purple was a life-changing moment for him. It's fairly safe to assume that Ritchie Blackmore has been a major influence upon him and it's pretty obvious here. The riff has a classic Blackmore feel. If you can imagine the splintering 4ths of Spotlight Kid and a progression that is close to No Release, you'll get close to what this riff sounds like. The guitar solo seems to draw upon Blackmore as well. the vocals again are superb. Track 7 Song of Honour This instrumental blew me away. It's almost my favourite track on the album. If you like Neo-Classical metal you'll love this. The guitar is beautifully played here combining precision picking with the right amount of touch and feel. Almost my favourite track. Track 8 Out of the Clouds The guitar shredding intro here is a highlight while the vocals again remind me of Bruce Dickinson in full cry. This is a very good track. Track 9 Big Bad Waves Interesting synth opening is overridden by a catchy guitar riff that you'd be forgiven thinking a young Eddie Van Halen created. It just has that freshness that Eddie used to play with. Overall the song probably could be compared to Judas Priest in the late seventies/early eighties. This time the vocals again remind me a little of Graham Bonnet Track 10 Underwater Album closers can often make or break a record. This is the stand out track on the album. Maybe it reminds me a little of 7th son of a 7th son in feel but the case could just as easily be made for Stargazer - anything really with those snake charmer Phrygian scales.

Final Verdict Very Classic Very Metal

This is the music genre that I grew up listening to when everybody else was into Punk or Disco. It's what has always moved me, but I am pretty demanding about what I listen to. When done well, it can be brain shattering. When done poorly, it sucks. This album does not suck. It is delivered with confidence, style and a great deal of musicianship. If you like Classic Hard Rock, this album has your name on it. As Mollie Meldrum used to say when recommending staff nowhere near as good as this, "Do yourself a favour and get a copy of Very Classic Very Metal." You can listen for free here. If you like this type of music these guys deserve your support Read the full article

[independentaussie]

Stupid Rules Designed by Fools Behind Closed Doors

Stupid rules designed by fools behind closed doors is a line from the song Ted the Mechanic. It is spoken by "Ted" who is a representation of the common man. It's a line that runs through my mind often these days. As does the quote attributed to the Roman historian and politician, Tacitus. "When the state is most corrupt, then laws are most multiplied." Australia's taxation law is massive. There are rules that govern every potential money-making activity imaginable and for every rule there seem to be a dozen exemptions. Tax law appears designed to keep the middle class downtrodden while enabling the "elites" to wriggle out of paying any meaningful taxation. I could ramble on about tax law and how it appears to be deliberately confusing and unnecessarily intrusive and punitive. Of course, the desire to be fair may be at the core of all these rules and many public servants probably work assiduously to deliver what they believe to be the best outcome. So let's leave taxation to one side and look at some of the stupidest rules that have been passed by governments of every hue in this country.

Covid Brothel Restrictions in Victoria.

This may be my World Champion in the Super League of Stupid Rules. I don't want to get into a discussion of Victoria's wildly fluctuating and at times ham-fisted laws made throughout the past two years. I just think this sums up the Government's level of competency. At the same time that the State Government shut down every small business in the State with the exception of essential services. The Andrews Government decreed that legal brothels would still be able to conduct their business. However, the gobbleydook that coered this instruction also stated that -: Density quotient of 1 person per 4sqm applies What? How's that going to work? Ina ll seriouseness who let that one slip through? Maybe politicians and senior public servants see brothels as "essential services." It certainly isn't a way to endear yourself to the small business population or to families unable to visit each other.

The Light Bulb Law

For some time, Victoria had a statute that stated that only registered electricians could change a light bulb. I'm happy to report that I've broken this law regularly over the course of the past twenty years. Apparently, the law was written as a knee jerk response to one individual electrocuting himself while trying to change a light bulb. Victoria has a population of around six million people. There's been one death. Time to bring in a law. That's the way government operates.

Car keys

More than one person known to me has been fined for the heinous crime of leaving their car keys in a motor vehicle. This apparently encourages theft. I guess it does, but if I wanted to steal a car, I'd know how to hotwire one.

Balloons cannot be released into the open air.

Not if you're misfortunate enough to live in the Frankston area. The Frankston council appears to be focused on entering the Guinness Book of Records for having the most stupid laws. They also have laws banning the feeding of seagulls and pigeons as well as fines for residents who leave their caravan parked in the street for seven days. They are currently considering banning backyard barbecues. Where do these people come from?

Drunk in a Hotel

Really. Lock me up. It seems to me that in many cases, governments and public servants, in particular, feel a need to "do something" for fear of being accused of "doing nothing." Stupid rules are often the result. Maybe, they should just take a chill pill and let us live our lives in peace and relative harmony. The Victorian Goverment better get its head around Brothels and Covid though. I bet they won't. Read the full article

[independentaussie]

2022 Goals, aspirations and hopeful stabs in the dark

I've never kept a New Years Resolution in my life. This year I'm not making one. I do, however, have a list of goals and aspirations that I aim to achieve. I'll call them goals, you might well call some of them hopeful stabs n the dark. There's an old rule from my management days that suggests writing down goals makes you more accountable. I've never been big on accountability, so maybe this will help.

Goal #1 Increase my freelance writing business by 20%

There was a time, maybe five or six years ago, that I would take any writing gig at any rate. I'm much more circumspect now. I rarely bid for new work on places like Upwork or Airtasker. Nothing much will change. I am going to bid more, but it will be very selectively - for work that I'm interested in and that offers the prospect of regular work. One-off gigs are a thing of the past for me. By the time the third party platform takes their cut is factored in as well as the time spent bidding, answering questions and general liaising, it's a break-even scenario. I can wear that if there's more work to come, but otherwise, I've got better things to do. This brings me to the second of my goals.

Goal #2 Write more articles on Hive and Medium

Both these platforms reward me for published content. HIve is outperforming Medium by about ten to one. If I knuckle down and work on getting an article published a day as well as doing some groundwork within the Hive community, particularly, there is the opportunity to significantly increase my earnings through this channel.

Goal #3 Publish another book

Last year I published a largely autobiographical book. It was comprised of various pieces written as I worked through some underlying issues. My writing didn't start there. For years I'd toiled away in the small press dark fantasy market, gaining publication in a variety of publications in Australia, Europe and the United States. It wasn't lucrative, but it was fun. There are a dozen or so good stories that should be collated and put together. I think that they were pretty good. I have a working title. Shades of Dark Possibility. I just need to find the time to get the work collated. I might even pay someone to design a decent cover.

Goal #4 Lose 6 Kilos

Yeah yeah. I know. Pull the other one. The simple fact is that I'm too fat. A man of my height should weigh 74 kilos at the most. According to BMI(Body Mass Index) calculations, I should weigh 70. When I thought that I was reasonably fit, I weighed 75 Kilos. I'm currently threatening 84 Kilos. Something has to change. I've mapped out a plan. That's the easy part. The Actifit app has helped me get active over the past six months. I've joined a fitness league through the app and have to compete daily against others. Humiliation is a possibility, but there's no reward without risk.

Goal #5 Find a way to participate in AFL more.

One of the discoveries, I've made in the past couple of years is how much AFL football meant to me as a young man. I lost the love and have been working to get it back. I want to be involved at a grassroots level. Maybe that's in Super Rules (modified game for old farts like me), maybe it's in junior coaching. I do know one thing. Sometime this year, there's going to be a reunion with my teammates of fifty years ago.

Goal #6 Mow the lawns every second week

On the face of it, this should be the easiest of goals. It won't be. Lawn mowing has always been low on my priority list. We're living in a rental property. My next-door neighbour mows the lawn every other day. I reckon I can find the time to mow mine every other week. Maybe then he'll wave to me.

Goal #7 Aggressivley work my secondary businesses

I have a few. They all show promise. I just have to allocate the time to make them more profitable. There's quite a lot of "stuff" half done. I need to clean all that up.

Goal #8 Become more social

I've become a bit of a curmudgeon over the past decade. It's time to open the doors and let the sunshine in.

Goal #9 Be kinder

Kindness doesn't cost much. Besides, there's that good old Karma Bus to watch out for. I'll try to be kinder. Unless of course, you behave like a goose, or you're a politician then all bets are off. Read the full article

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What More Is there to Write About the Persecution of Julian Assange?

I hear, "You haven't written about Julian Assange for a while, "quite often. It makes me feel quite guilty, but honestly what more can be written about the persecution of Julian Assange that will shift public opinion even a fraction? The public has been manipulated into two polar opposite camps. There are those that think the persecution of Julian Assange is justifiable and a righteous cause. The ABC's Michael Rowland appears to be the chief cheerleader of that crowd. Then there are those the see his persecution as the drunken overreach of a corrupt system used to bending people's opinions to its will. There doesn't seem to be any in-between. People like me can jump up and down and write their obscure little pieces and it doesn't make one iota of difference. Whereas people like Rowland can send out a destructive character assassinating tweet and their followers swallow it as if it were gospel. Rowland and Sally Neighbor (Assange is Putin's Puppet and we all know it) have a lot to answer for. They are meant to be journalists but repeat government propaganda in their authoritative tones without blinking an eyelid. One day maybe, their "journalism" will be held to account. I don't expect it to happen anytime soon.

The Persecution of Julian Assange is Deliberate Calculated and Malevolent

It certainly won't happen before Assange is either dead or shoved in the darkest of dark holes for the duration of his life. Child molesters are treated with more respect dignity and mercy than Assange has been or ever will. Let's be singularly clear here. The persecution of Assange is deliberate, malevolent and calculated. It is meant to be a warning to any other uppity publisher or journalist who wants to expose the crimes of the State. Assange is being prosecuted for publishing Collateral Murder - a video that shows US Forces gunning down Iraqi civilians. Everything else you've heard or read about Assange is there to muddy the water. You can read exactly how the waters have been muddied and why here, here and here. Nothing happens by chance. Assange will be dismantled and destroyed because he dared to expose the truth. You're not meant to think about this. If you're a "lefty" you're meant to obsess over the "rape" charges in Sweeden and the publishing of Clinton's emails prior to the US election. You're never meant to blame Clinton for what is in the emails - that's just politics(wink, wink). If you're on the right you're meant to want blood because "he betrayed our troops" or something. I'm not really sure. But that's how it works. Either way, the public's perception has been manipulated to believe that Assange will get what he deserves.

But the persecution won't stop with Assange

Of course, it won't. There will always be somebody who annoys the powers that shouldn't be and they will always seek vengeance. What the Assange case has done beyond simply destroying one man is that it has watered down many legal safeguards. Publications like the New York Times are only now starting to wake up. First, it will be Assange, then it will be another independent journalist. Then another and another. Until one day it is one of the major publishers. Then what? Yeah, it's been a while since I've written about the persecution of Julian Assange. How many times can I write the same thing? Photo by Markus Spiske from Pexels Read the full article