I Disapprove of What you Say . . .

. . . , but I will defend to the death your right to say it. (Voltaire)

I don’t believe in censorship . . well perhaps I do but only in the interest of protecting the young, the vulnerable and the marginalised say from abuse or pornography.

But when it comes to what sites I can access or become unwittingly being blocked because my Government doesn't want me to read something or because worse still, my IP makes a decision on what contains inappropriate, pornography, converse politics, violence, or unsuitable reading material - it is not their right to make that decision. Not at the expense of free speech or information exchange no matter how distasteful we may find it.

Don't get me wrong - I don’t think there should be full frontal nudity on TV at lunchtime and I don't want to watch biased and violent news reports at tea time or drama with excessive vulgar language or explicit sex before 9pm. These should be played later in the evening to avoid exposure to young children. I approve of a film rating system . . the bottom line in this type of censorship - it still allows me to make the choice as to whether I watch or not. I am in control of the remote! I do not approve of banning literature of any type. It's simply medieval to control the reading material of the masses and worse still replace it with sanitised versions off the truth.

Some Internet Providers (IP's) either package or promote ‘spam filters’, ‘disc nannys’, firewalls etc, to stop you accessing what THEY think could be damaging, biased, unsuitable, or even politically subversive information. Unless you have an IT bent, it is difficult to know what is being filtered from your view, what is being decided for you and what in fact you may never see because your security settings deem it unsuitable for your perusal. I'm not talking about pop up restriction here but actual blocking of sites.

If you have the know-how to temper your security settings well and good but I for one, wouldn’t know where to start . . .I only know that I am not overly filtered because I CAN access sites such as Al Jazeera and some others which might be considered contentious by the powers that be but they give me a broader perspective.

My rule of thumb has always been to embrace diversity. I don’t like everything I see or hear, indeed I am often repulsed by sites, books, newspapers and television programmes that I happen along but it's my choice whether to take these on board or move along.

Similarly with opinion on the internet or blogs, I may not agree with you but I will not fall out with you just because you don’t share my view. How are we ever going to learn from each other or understand the external world if we constantly try to stymie free speech among friends and healthy debate between adversaries? Look where a lack of meaningful dialogue has brought world politics! Attempts to censor the internet are insidious. It is not the prerogative of IP’s or software providers to determine what is appropriate for my eyes and what isn’t unless I choose to moderate my security settings of my own free will.

Emerging and non democratic countries are playing catch up trying to censor the internet, email, IM access across the world. It’s proving a difficult and very time consuming task and to some extent. I abhor US companies which are restricting not only the free speech of their own citizens but actively assisting in the prevention of free speech, no free 'criticism', in the emerging world.

The internet is playing a leading role in citizens talking to government and often challenging its rules. A growing number of regimes are experiencing the difficulty of choosing between open communication and economic development or closed communication and controlling ‘dangerous’ ideas. This is not peculiar to developing countries as evidenced by the fact that an IP can actually block you from accessing particular sites unless you know how to change the security settings.

China maintains the world's most effective internet censorship, dubbed "The Great Firewall" . Tens of thousands of people are employed to monitor web traffic. Western companies such as Cisco, Yahoo, Google and Microsoft have willingly assisted officials in their goals and ensured that ‘sensitive’ material relating particularly to Taiwan and now Tibet are removed.

This is going to be harder as over 210 million Chinese access the net with 200,000 more going online for the first time every day . This hopefully will lead to a shift in the country's relationship with central power, allowing an opportunity for individuals to challenge government policy.

Iran, especially under the leadership of hardliner President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, has led a purging of journalists, dissidents, prominent women and unionists. Yet there are many bloggers there who challenge the mullah’s grip on power while western companies contribute to the country’s isolation. Yahoo and Microsoft quietly removed Iran from the country lists of their webmail services last year.. Google's Gmail service still features Iran on its country list.

Internet censorship is becoming a key human rights issue around the world.

Without bloggers in Saudi Arabia, we would have little idea of the nation's true state.

The internet will not automatically democratise all societies or bring Western-style reform. Many bloggers and activists probably hope for the opposite. Its uncontrolled unpredictability has proven to the mainstream media that local voices can bring their opinions to the world.

In conclusion IP’s , Google, Cisco, MSN, Microsoft whoever . . . DO NOT ASSUME I CANNOT SELF REGULATE. I don’t want everything filtered to the max. I could research this more, I could write a thesis on the need to be allowed to choose what I read and access but I think you get the gist.

Australia’s laws on Internet censorship are, theoretically, amongst the most restrictive in the Western world. However, the restrictive nature of the laws has been combined with almost complete lack of interest in enforcement from the agencies responsible. Bless Aussie apathy!

You internet users - be prepared for an information superhighway that will not only enlighten and elucidate, but will teach you how the other half lives. Be critical in your reading and open in your interpretation and for God's sake learn how to moderate your IP security settings.

Mind you an uncensored internet will also shower you with sexy ladies, large penises, viagra, cialis, cheap meds, free degrees, ringtones and will be sure to make your lady squirm! Me love you long time!

This is interesting: http://www.rsf.org/article.php3?id_article=1061

Thank God its Friday

Because tomorrow, I'll know what to do . . . .

Have a wonderful weekend punters. And big hugs for Rattie Mattie who is my new best friend, my secret crush and the best Level 2 Support Person next to Kahlerisms, I have EVA not met! Although I've met Kahlerisms and he's very nice as well as capable and lives in a little green house with Brethred and their two cats . . . . but I digress.

Happy weekend to all of you who have been so supportive in person, email or the blog this week and wished both Clare and I all the best. I'm feeling much more relaxed and you were all right, it was the build-up to leaving not the actual departure that made me sad. I'm feeling much more together today and I've already had an email from Chile so it's all good. It's been a strange week and I've only actually worked for three days owing to the Public Holiday and having Thursday off so next week it's nose to the grindstone in earnest, I have so much to achieve.

Thanks BabySis for the reality check and DrummerBoy for being a brick. And of course all the rest of you who have been very sweet and full of good advice and best wishes for our travelling friend. If she shows up at yours, give her a couch! I'm very lucky to have such a select yet diverse group of commenters who seem to have an affection for this drivel and the person who slaps it down each day. I appreciate you too.

And some food for thought, don't believe all you see on TV broaden your minds, increase your knowledge and try to walk a mile in someone elses shoes (sometimes they're sparkly and if you click the heels together they'll take you to amazing places)

"There are two things which cannot be attacked in front: ignorance and narrow-mindedness. They can only be shaken by the simple development of the contrary qualities. They will not bear discussion"

Dalai Llama

"Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live"

Oscar Wilde

"Criticism of attempts to broaden intellectual, social, political and spiritual horizons come from people who cannot see past their own agenda!" (I made some of that up . . .)

Be nice to each other

Wish I Had a Fwend In Wome!

I arrived at the office to complaints . . . gentle ones because they knew I was 'easing' back in but Sunday night's storm had triggered the UPS which refused to automatically restart as it should and the network was down. So within minutes of parking my handbag I was prostrate on the floor in the server room, pressing little restart buttons to get the server up and running. Staff are happy, they can access their funny emails. There's nothing like a closed network to give the girls the hump!

I then filtered through 935 emails despite having my Outlook "Out of Office" Assistant on while I was away. She had not properly done her job of deterring people from emailing me so I turned her off, sent her packing. Most of them were trying to sell me watches, software, electronics or viagra or asking me to 'call them' because they were alone and had some nice pictures for me to view. Clearly the spam filter is not working again and pictures of Collosseum Otter Nose vendors filled my head. . Things were getting silly.

Then a brief from TheBoss, predictably telling me how he has looked at himself in a 'roomful of mirrors', 'run a couple of things up the flagpole', 'thrown some ideas on the tarmac to see which would stick'. He was waxing lyrical about how exciting 2008 was going to be with new Debt Installment Warrants, Business Succession planning and could I have the bones of a Marketing Plan together by Thursday. I was beside myself with joy and enthusiasm and thought cynically how fortunate I am to work in such a thrilling industry - Debt Installment Warrants - now it doesn't get more exciting than that! Only Margin Lending could top it!

Then I killed my PC. Don't know how, I just restarted it after a lunchtime freeze and it looped between the Windows login and the startup screen. No amount of cajoling, kicking or profanity would bring it back online. I even got prostrate again and unplugged it. All this lying down was making me feel rather holy and sanctimonious. I twiddled all those little coloured plugs in the back and reconnected the power. The day was moving from slightly ridiculous to properly Pythonesque!

So, logged into the server and called the Helldesk to resolve the issue of clients being unable to get into their logins and view their portfolios on the website. After having a hissy fit, making a few phone calls, feigning tears and pleading with the higher ups, I was able to get hold of a real techie and spent about 4 hours talking to a very nice 'Matt' from our Database suppliers who spoke suggestively and seductively of digital signatures and IP Addresses, remote assistance and "GoTo" meetings. He toyed with my desktop before aknowledging that the issue was 'pointing to the wrong IP address'. I asked him not to talk dirty to me but he couldn't help it. He loves his job. I was now feeling like a song and "Always Look on The Bright Side of Life" came to mind. He was very nice, softly spoken and very funny so I liked him even if he didn't solve the problem and will probably flirt outrageously with him again tomorrow unless he can't fix the problem in which case I'll regard him as the rest of the supergeeks . . . not the Messiah, just a very naughty boy!

By 5:30, I hadn't touched anything other than IT issues. Letters remain untranscribed, redemptions unmailed and followups well . . not followed up. I had my tuna and avocado salad at 4.00pm (no need for tea). I did manage to get to Medicare and HCF and complete my medical claims which put $230 in my purse . . very welcome the day before payday! And I managed to get a quick email off to JD who has been feeling a little low lately. So . . first day back . . . panic attack and it's like no water has passed under the bridge!

The Biatch is Back . . there is once again a driver for the 'he said' 'she said' IT bus and hopefully we'll see some ACTION tomorrow. Poor little IT Dude is pleased to see me back. I think he's been thwown to the gwound Centuwian and tweated vewwy wuffly since my departure and is quite pleased to hear the voice of reason, even if it's not telling him what he wants to know. Charmaine is very happy to see me back . . now she doesn't have to put up with the inane interruptions. Good job I'm less flighty now that I've been desexed!

The Invisibles

How can something that comes out of this:

Turn into this:



And make so much noise that it drowns out your "Shoot em Up" action DVD but you can't bloody find it in the tree!

Oh I'm Just an Old Judgemental Extrovert!

According to the Myers Briggs scale of things, I'm incredibly rare. . . part of only 3% of the population so I'm feeling quite special today. Thanks to Emporer Ropi for the link (I love this quiz stuff).

I've been psychometrically tested many times, usually for various employment opportunities, and each time they come up trumps. That's when I answer honestly of course. The thing is, I've even tried to cook the books so to say and they still come up with the same stuff. So, apparently, I'm an ENFJ . . . we are externally focused, introspective, altruistic, positive and have excellent people skills. We place utmost importance on helping others grow. We are warm and have a natural desire to be supportive and encouraging. Being charismatic and possessing excellent language skills, we do well in leadership roles. ENFJs strive to enhance the lives of their human brethren.

We are the benevolent 'pedagogues' of humanity. We have tremendous charisma by which many are drawn into their nurturant tutelage (ooh sounds like something JD would say!) and/or grand schemes. Many of us have tremendous power to manipulate others with their phenomenal interpersonal skills and unique salesmanship (umm that could be a bad thing right?)

ENFJs are people-focused individuals. We live in the world of people possibilities. We understand and care about people, and have a special talent for bringing out the best in others. Apparently, our main interest in life is giving love, support, and a good time to other people. We're focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. We make things happen for people, and get our best personal satisfaction from this.

Success for us, and this is particularly true in my case, comes through involvement in the process of making things happen and through finding that our efforts on behalf of others have fulfilled our own lives as well.

We also focus on how organizations should treat people and communicate these values to others. We enjoy leading and facilitating teams, (aka being the boss) and like to bring matters to mutually beneficial conclusions.

In short: A mentoring, altruistic, easily hurt, religious, neat, content, positive, affectionate, image conscious, bossy biatch with absolutely no attention to detail (I've just realised that Blogger has a friggin' spell checker!) and little patience for fools.

As for multiple intelligences, I'm a lazy, un-musical, linguistically challenged yet a personable, visual naturalist! I can live with that. Now tell me something I don't know . . .

Take the Test

And You Thought You Had a Year to Recover?

So the festivities are all over then? Shit no . . . there's one more before Easter and that's on the 26 January - arguably in the middle of one of the hottest month's of the year . . it's Australia day! The idea is to celebrate the British establishment of a penal colony at Botany Bay but many regard it as a shameful day of invasion and exploitation. More about that in another post. Today, the sun is shining, the world is at peace and everyone's nursing their New Year's Eve hangovers so here are some useful facts, hints and tips, should you choose to venture down under for Australia Day celebrations, which I might add, are well worth the trip!











Whatever you do, never, never, never wear one of these
Or be caught alive in a pair of these:

More travel tips available on request including Barbie Ettiquette, How to Treat a Sheila, Footy Tips and how to avoid Drop Bears.

It is 2008

Happy New Year everyone!

Athbhliain faoi Mhaise Duit
Voorspoedige nuwe jaar
Feliz año nuevo
Blwyddyn Newydd Dda
Kia orana e kia manuia rava i teia kiritimeti e te mataiti ou
A blithe Yule an a Guid New Year
Boldog uj evet
Среќен Божик и среќна Нова година (thought yo might like that one Damian!)

Now, back to my Bailey's on ice! Cheers!

Going Off With a Bang Or Just a Quiet Thud?

I'm not going to write a 2007 retrospective because very little of any significance happened in the Baino household throughout 2007 and all the important events have been reviewed and reviled by the media or posted here throughout the year. Plus I'm one for looking forward rather than back! For us, 'little significance' means no major disasters or family issues, no huge financial setbacks or poor health. But today, I'm at a loose end. ClareBear is in Nambucca Heads with friends enjoying the shark infested waters and will no doubt imbibe tonight to welcome in 2008. DrummerBoy is at work then off to Lemmermans for a party so it's unlikely he and the Fringelet will surface before lunchtime tomorrow. Even then there will be a brief encounter while I drive them to a recovery party at The Mean Fiddler on New Year's Day. BabyBro and Stressany rarely do much on NYE and I for one, don't really see what all the fuss is about but haven't received any invitations to do anything anyway so I'm pretending I don't give a shit.

So, I'm being pathetic, sitting in front of my PC talking people I've never met (not that that's a bad thing mind you), taking my dog for a walk, watching the odd DVD, staring at the three books I should be reading and contemplating tidying my wardrobe or the dreaded bathroom cupboard.

I've had massive New Year celebrations in the past but they've all involved eating a lot, drinking a lot, kissing people I don't really care about at midnight, singing Auld Lang Syne which bores me to tears, then coming home and wondering why we blew so much dosh on a new frock and a date change.

When the kids were smaller, we used to go into the city, picnic at Lady Macquarie's Chair and watch the 9.00pm and midnight fireworks then queue with the other 2 million Sydneysiders to get back home. It was fun and there's no doubt that Sydney puts on a NYE night like no other. A couple of times, a veritable crowd of us booked hotel rooms and had a leisurely walk too and from our viewing vantage point, wading through the drunks and the rubbish left by so many people and telling the kids that 'that nice man is just having a little snooze before the big fireworks go off." All in all, it's a lot of expense and exertion for 15 minutes of fabulous pyrotechnics.We've done the NYE at home thing and that was OK apart from the cleaning up the next day and regular body removal but nothing special about that. It happens whenever the kids have an event! We've done the dinner out thing but it's rather forced and you're usually unceremoniously tossed out at 12:30 just when the party's getting started. I've even done the quiet dinner at home thing with BabyBro and Stressany or Thommo, TheBoss and The Merry Widow and watched the fireworks on telly which is civilised and pleasant but hardly celebratory.

I'm toying with the idea of going into the city alone. We have buses running all day every half hour for the special event. I could take the camera and snap some shots but since I lost a pair of $250 Raybans on NYE once, I'm a bit reluctant to take a $1500 worth of camera equipment. Still, I could go and 'oooh' and 'aaaah' with the rest of Sydney but it's not the same on your own. I'd feel a bit like that sad little Leunig cartoon that contemplates loneliness, the univers and his diminutive place within it.

So, I'm on my tod. On my lonesome. Flying solo. It's off to Costi's for a nice little lobster methinks, a bottle of something delish like Verve Cliquot and a disgustingly fattening tub of Norgen Vaas or Grand Marnier, coffee and Chocolate Covered Almond Conoisseur Ice Cream. I might even blow dry the frizz, put on a dress and lay a table for one plus dog. I'll have a very nice little dinner, watch the fireworks on telly and pop my fat ass into bed at 12:05! What a saddo! (now stop feeling sorry for me, I didn't try very hard to get a gig tonight!)

At least I know of one person who's working all night and another who's researching migration to Australia rather than partying hard so I don't feel totally left out. For the rest of you revellers - go hard or go home - well done - enjoy your night, I hope it goes of with a bang (metaphorically speaking) and I'll talk to you all next year.



Happy New Year . . .Crikey . . it's just a number!

Do You Really Need 30 Pairs of Shoes?

The day after Boxing Day, Thursday 27th December . . . thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of Australians will front up at Department stores to snag a bargain. It's traditionally the first day of the Summer Sales which will last for a couple of weeks when stores Australia wide will wildly discount, offer you interest free terms or nothing to pay until 2009 to entice you to buy clothes that don't fit, appliances you don't need, and accessories to clog up the top shelf of your wardrobe (isn't that where they all end up?).

My understanding of economics is scant. I pick up a few things from the Financial Advisers for whom I work but basically, overspending by a country's population and government leads to inflation which causes the monetary regulators to raise interest rates. Simplistic, I fear so but if you can put it more succinctly, please let me know. So what drives these people, overspent by too much indulgence at Christmas, maxed out on their credit cards, to queue in front of department stores overnight, to charge through their opening doors at 7.00am, rummage through the specials tables, abuse shop assistants, grab items out of the hands of fellow shoppers and generally spend, spend, spend at the post Christmas sales?

Is it need or greed? Who needs more than one television, one XBox or PS2, who needs 22 pairs of shoes, 16 handbags or a wardrobe of clothes to make a film star envious. Who needs a new fridge just because it's interest free for 2 years. Who is compelled to go out and buy a car because there's 40% off after Christmas. In fact today, shoppers waited in long queues outside jewellers Swarovski and bag stores Guess, Coach and Oroton in central Sydney because these shops chose to 'regulate' the amount of shoppers they allowed to enter. What! We have homeless youth, problems in indigenous Australia, drug addiction, a failing health and education system and people are queuing to buy jewellery and handbags. It's INSANE!

Sales here seem to be more and more common. Even before Christmas we were shopping for backpacks in Kathmandu and they had a 50% sale BEFORE Christmas. There are the post Christmas sales, the Spring Sales, the half yearly sales the twice a year clearances and offer us cash for a HUGE discount! If they can afford to entice us to buy with low or no interest, 5o% off, Clearances and post Christmas mark downs . . why can't prices be a little more affordable before the event or consistent throughout the year?

If you're a saver, I guess high interest rates are fantastic but how many of us have NO debt? No credit card outstanding, no mortgage, no personal loans? Not many I'll wager. What makes us want to buy, acquire, own? Personally, I've had to deal with the 'estates' of three members of my own family and the bulk of what they 'bought' is just junk to be disposed of by those of us who remain. I'm not a minimalist in the white-walled, white-tiled, single-chair in a room fashion but I don't believe in purchasing 'things' just because someone else has them or because they're cheap or necessary to 'acquire'. I don't see the need for a lettuce spinner or a rice cooker in the modern kitchen. I don't need an electric peppermill or a cappucino machine (they never taste as good as Barista bought anyway!). I don't like designer dresses that are made in sweat shops or shoes made in China then badged by some silly designer with their name and sold for $300. I don't need a TV that extends accross an entire wall. Don't get me wrong, I like my little luxuries but they're practical, economical and useful and I could live just as well with a few simple implements as a kitchen full of gadgetry.

I have friends who have a TV in every room so they don't speak much to their children who also have their own PS2's or X Boxes. They have air-conditioning, dryers, gadgets and gizmos and have lost the art of doing things intuitively and simply. They have electric garage doors because it's too difficult to get out of the car and open a door. They have the latest coffee makers, the flashest cars. They have GPS systems because it's too hard to look up a Gregorys or UBD and buy water which in Australia is no better quality than that which comes out of the tap. They are dripping in jewellery, handbags and shoes . . . but these things don't always make them happy and in many cases, they just surround themselves with debt and the knowledge that they've managed to keep up with the Joneses.

Please Australia, think before you buy: Do I need it, Do I want it and if so why? Can I live without it? Will it really make me happy? What effect will my purchase have on the economy? And in my case . . .can I really afford it. The answer is invariably no.

Then I've never been much of a shopper but I have still managed to get myself into credit card debt. I 'need' a new computer but hey. As long as the old one has legs, I can wait for five minutes while it navigates its way around the web. I need a new car but basically $250 spent on new brakes will tide me over. I need a new washing machine but if I spin stuff twice, it's dry enough to peg out. I need very little actually. I need my friends, my family, a roof over my head and a hot shower each day. I need a minimum of implements and mod cons. I need my dog, a standard fan and a stereo to fill my house with music. I need a coldy in the fridge, food in my belly and the love of my children. Needless to say, I will not be smashing through the doors of Myers because basically, there's nothing more that I need! And lets face it, I certainly don't need another rise in interest rates when the Reserve Bank meets on the first Tuesday in January!

C'mon Everybody Get Wrapping

This Christmas' colour theme is quite obviously - red and gold!

Jack McMad has left his run a little late. Now he's faced with the fine art of gift wrapping for Lady McMad and it's causing a conundrum. So, if you don't have your presents yet . . get cracking. Here are some 'hot tips' on wrapping for morons (read men) who traditionally have as much success wrapping gifts as they do finding a matching pair of socks under their very noses. And before you get your grundies in a twist, this is not a sexist statement - it's entirely factual:

1. Buy jewellery - the jeweller will wrap it for you in a pretty little gift box and we all know what you get when you give a woman jewellery fellas? If you don't, I'm not going to tell you
   
   
2. Buy the gift in a large shopping centre where they offer 'free giftwrapping' at the information counter. Yes, that means you have to do what the rest of us do and drive to the multi level car park, exact road rage on the person who pinches the first space after you've been stalking it's previous inhabitant for half an hour, venture into the mall and actually find a shop that offers a suitable gift. If you spend a set amount within the centre, just present your receipts and two pretty nubile nymphettes will wrap your present for you, smile at you and if you're lucky, provide a glimpse of cleavage from their scanty Santa's Little Helper's wraparound tops.
   
   
3. Buy a gift bag. Make sure it's big enough for your present and has a Christmas theme. Receiving a Christmas gift in a Birthday bag for a five year old (unless you are five) is not cool and it looks like you've recycled which is cheap and tasteless. Whack in the gift, stuff a bit of tisue paper on the top and you're home and hosed.
   
   
4. Buy a voucher/gift card. Any sort of voucher but don't be cheap $10 at the local supermarket is not a Christmas gift. Ramp it up a bit to a $50 or $100 gift voucher for Coles Myer, David Jones or a specialty store where you know she likes to shop. This could be any Jewellery store or Day Spa vouchers for manicures, pedicures, facials and massages. For Pete's sake, don't give her a voucher for Bunnings or the Electronics Boutique unless you know she's a geeky gardener!
   
   
5. Call your mum and ask her to come round in a hurry and wrap it for you but that's lame ass and your significant other will certainly know that the mother in law has had a hand in the wrapping. Plus the mother in law will want to make sure that the significant other KNOWS she had a hand in the wrapping.
   
   
6. The total act of desperation - buy a Christmas card and write "Your Present this year is a weekend in a luxury hotel of your choice and at a time of your choosing". Then she does the hard work and you just flash the credit card when the time comes!

Um just make sure there's no Christmas Beetle crawling on the card when you use it!
This one checked out my number while I was doing some online shopping!

Waving to God and Speaking in Tongues

Spot the black, fat lesbian in a wheelchair? No? She's not welcome in this place!

I must be in a serious mood this weekend. Lots of thoughts flowing between the ears (Amazing since there isnt much else in there). One of the commenters on this blog is a cleric. He’s a Minister in the Church of Ireland. He’s very intelligent, funny, politically and geographically aware, the sort that you would probably enjoy hearing a sermon from on any Sunday. Interesting really, as a non-believer, I find his site thought-provoking and his comments on my and other blogs unusually secular. It struck me that in a comment criticising the ”God Squad” that I might have hurt his sensibilities, I think not as he’s very broad minded but it also made me want to clarify the comment.

I am not religious. I was raised an Anglican, the Church of England variety and completed all the usual sacraments. I taught Sunday School in my teens and enjoyed the social side of church life, particularly in Melbourne at a little Church we attended in Donvale many years ago. The move to Sydney disconnected that nice feeling as we found it difficult to find a Parish that emulated it's close knit community and delightful Minister.

My mother was a Welsh Evangalist, quite religious but searching for a Church that suited her so we were dragged through the Baptist, Methodist, Wesley and numerous other breakaways in the hope of finding an ‘appropriate’ venue for my mother to Worship. None really worked for her and our churchgoing life was suspended. My father was Church of England and highly principled yet the Priest who attended him during his dying days was the son of a beloved friend and a Catholic, he always considered himself a non-denominational Christian. I married a Catholic and whilst I didn’t convert, I became accustomed to attending Mass and raised both children through the Catholic Education System as promised. I studied Judaism at University and attended the Great Synagogue on several occasions and dabbled as one does in Buddhism many years ago. So, I’ve had some pretty wide exposure to organised religion. Whilst I don’t believe in God in the traditional sense, and I have great scepticism about the e Church at large, I have deep respect for organisations such as the Salvation Army, St Vincent DePaul, Anglicare and similar philanthropics that do great work for the marginalised, underprivileged and the needy. So, why am I so down on the God Squad? Well I'm not. It's just this particular branch of pentacostal ratbags for whom I have no respect.

About 500metres from my leafy little enclave of acreage, suburbia is encroaching. At the end of our road is a large shopping centre, an ice skating rink, a light industrial park (offices and the like) a Convention Centre and the “Till on the Hill”. This is the Australian Headquarters of the Christian Life Centre – Hillsong. Inspired originally by an ex-pat Kiwi, it is an evangelical and pentacostal religious organisation.

They attract their parishioners very cleverly by offering an alternative to the conventional, a new age bible, rock and roll services, merchandising, counselling, medical centres, youth and women’s conventions and a focus on becoming wealthy through knowing God. It’s a safe place for younglings who have not yet forayed into the sinful world of sex, drugs and Saturday night binge drinking. It’s somewhere kids can go before they terrorise the streets on their P plates and it obviously fills a void that conventional Churches have been so far unable to do.

So what’s the harm? They believe in a benevolent and forgiving God. Hillsong's A-Z service delivery is immense, offering something for everyone from medical practices and psychiatric counselling to coffee shops. They encourage moral behaviour, no sex before marriage, respect for God and each other. They’re normal law abiding citizens, bringing religion into the modern age and believe that living your life blessed is better than living your life rich – or do they?

It is all about money and control. They preach that the more successful and wealthy you are, the better equipped you are to support the fiscal needs of the church and their work. They have commercialised religion beyond its biblical simplicity and now have a tangible, strong, influential and fully emerged business and political influence. Ironic that their medical and psychiatric practices have the pseudonym “Emerge”. The atmosphere during services is unrestrained, friendly and emotional, the responses loud and heartfelt. Hillsong promotes that God wants people to live "healthy and prosperous lives in order to help others more effectively". It is a message of "personal effectiveness" so people can make a bigger difference to the world. They are more like an Anthony Robbins motivational conference than a Church gathering.

At last count there were 1100 Assemblies of God churches in Australia under the presidency of the senior pastor of Hillsong, Brian Houston. They enjoy tax free status, as do all Churches in Australia and the evangelising of the masses has led to a complex web of financial arrangements that is impossible to detangle. Whilst they welcome checking of their accounts ‘via appointment’ any attempt by their parishioners do so is ‘frowned upon’.

Houston told ABC television's Australian Story in August 2005 that in the previous financial year, Hillsong had an income of $50million, and had $100million in "facilities". Little has been said about their worth since then. They hold “Miracle Offering Weekends” to raise cash for their multi-million dollar building projects, one of which includes the massive convention centre that sits beside the current Till. An excerpt from a letter to parishioners requesting their financial generosity to repatriate child soldiers in Uganda read:

“Our commitment is that we will give the greater of either 10 per cent or the first $500,000 of the Miracle Offering. Hillsong Church is not built on the gifts and talents of a few, but on the sacrifice of many."

10% well that was big of them - taking the term tithe literally I note. What about the other 90%! They raised $7.2 million! Oh and they can pay via cash, cheque or credit card. I am not averse to fundraising for charitable causes all Churches do it . . . but little is said about the charitable causes and in this case, so little is actually contributed . . . most is sunk into the purchase of valuable land and the building of megalithic facilities and the establishment of new businesses, not to mention lining the pockets of its initiators, Brian and Bobbie Houston.

"If you believe in Jesus," says Hillsong’s leader Brian Houston, "He will reward you here on earth as well as in Heaven”. It is this prosperity gospel teaching that puts him at odds with conventional religious leaders.

And don’t even get me started on Bobbie Houston’s philosophy on women. Young Hillsong women go to high schools to teach female students about make-up and skin care. Fat is out. Do some exercise. Bobbie Houston (the wifey poo) "If I carry weight I feel like a retard.” (I was unaware that being intellectually challenged was linked to weight gain) ... And then there’s this – “How are you going to do anything to surprise your man when you need a hydraulic crane just to turn over in bed?" She also recommends having plastic surgery, if it makes you feel better and it is for the right reasons, and "girls, pelvic floor exercises - can you believe I am saying this? - you know, I have heard that orgasm is not as strong if you are really sloppy in that area". and on her CD She Loves and Values Her Sexuality. Which is all about ‘catching a man’. If you don't look great, you won't get a decent looking husband and, if you already have one, to quote Bobbie, “he'll leave you!”

Tomorrow I will post something funny . . . promise!

Formally Speaking

It's school formal time in the land down under. This is a weird phenomenon which didn't quite exist when I was a school leaver but now it has a life of its own. When I was a girl, there was one school formal. It marked the right of passage from year 12 (6th form in my day) into the wide world. It was usually themed and there was no compulsion to have a 'partner', just attend, have a soft drink, chippies and dinner in the local Community Hall, a few speeches a bit of a dance. I made mine in a borrowed Sailor's Outfit to match the boyf's . . not quite your feminine icon but the trousers were comfy. Then an after party where we smooched to Led Zeppelin or Earth Wind and Fire or had a spliff in the corner whilst chilling to Dark Side of the Moon or Smokey Mountain Way. Revelry was followed by a long drive to Palm Beach the next day to sleep and recover.

When my kids were in their mid school years - year 10 to be specific, the formal is a big thing. It's like a bloody Debutante's Ball. Black tie and long dresses. Hair is professionally coloured and coiffed, make-up professionally done, months are spent planning the outfitand 'the look'. I had to work really hard on DrummerBoy to convince him that wearing a bright blue suit would make him look like Dick Tracey's alter ego and that a stylish black suit with an uber flashy waistcoat might be a better choice but at least with him, the cost was mitigated by a hired item. All we had to purchase was the shirt and a nice pair of shoes which incidentally were never worn again!

ClareBear was more of a challenge as we scoured shopping centres from Penrith to Double Bay looking for something different. She didn't want to look like a merangue or have one of those stiff satin hired jobs. After an exhausting ordeal we finally settled on a pretty bright pink chiffony bias cut shoestring with sparkly Jimmy Chu style strappies.

Then there's the vehicles - the mode of transport to take you to the formal had to be weird and wonderful - a fire engine, police car, tank or at the very least something vintage or veteran. The arrival at the venue of choice (which in itself was always somewhere posh) was very, very important. Adam chose vintage, Clare - sirens and a police escort - someone's dad would be in trouble! Yep,they were real police cars!

Year 12 is a far more sedate affair. More of a cocktail do where the kids dine in front of the parents' shared tables of 8 at the back. I didn't attend either of my children's Year 12 formals for that reason. What's the point of me sitting next to some parent I've never met whilst my kids and their partners are waaaaaay over there having fun and not really caring whether I was there or not. Then I have to take the steak because there are only two menu choices served alternately, aeroplane style. The person next to me doesn't eat red meat and I really wanted the Chicken Kiev. Formal speeches, formal meal. Lots of sucking up to teachers and a few awards then the brats are set free on the world. Strip into their beach gear and lob on some unsuspecting parent's premises to party hard while we all go home and lament our lost youth.

Now the coup de gras . . . Whilst prattling in the quadrangle at work today as we admin girly swats often do . . .I discovered that there are now three series of formals attended by Australian school children. Year 10 and 12 we've covered . . . University leaving? Nope, they're way over that formal stuff by their early 20's . . .guess, go on . . .Year six! Yep, last year of primary school. They're now hiring suits, getting their hair and make-up done, even choosing novelty transport. The parents have to learn a special dance and the night begins to cost. Instead of the old bottle of red pop and a packet of crisps, it's now a catered affair, a date necessary, a corsage a must . . . I dunno, what's the world coming to . . .next thing you know there will be Kindy Formals, Day Care Debs or God forbid a passing out parade for newborns . . .if so, just make sure you point the camera the other way please!

Black Fingernails and Blue Hair

I was asked over the weekend how to bring a wayward teenager back onto the ropes. Not a truly wayward teen but one whose dress code doesn’t fit his parents expectations, one who’s giving a bit of lip to his mum. One who’s going through that sulky, baggy-panted, hoody phase. One who’s finding his feet and showing signs of disrespect. Anyone who’s had teenagers in that 13-16 age group probably knows what I mean. We used to call my niece a ‘teenage poo’ for her tantrums and arguments, her messiness and disrespectful chat but she’s all 'growed up' now, cleaning house, working hard, finished her degree and in a successful relationship – I think her being happy has a lot to do with her disposition these days and I can’t wait to see her at Christmas.

I don’t know what I did right. I didn’t have perfect teenagers but I didn’t have the moods or tantrums either. Good and responsible behaviour was rewarded with little freedoms and it seemed to work. Respect was engendered and most of all issues were and are, discussed in intimate detail and they have always had the opportunity to put their point forward whether I agreed or not. The phrase ‘never go to bed on an argument’ comes to mind. Most of all, I wasn’t afraid to tell them that I was new at all this too. I had never raised kids before and that I was also on a learning curve and didn’t have all the answers. Mind you, being a widow helped. Instead of blaming my situation, it was actually advantageous. There was one rule, one arbiter, one court of appeal and I was defender, prosecutor, judge and jury. Firm but benevolent.

Children are wonderful at finding the chinks in your armour and taking advantage. If mum and dad are arguing or separated, they’ll take advantage of that and use it for an excuse not to conform, to be rude, to assert themselves and to play one parent off another. If mum and dad are too authoritarian, they’ll use that as an excuse and sneak out the window when grounded. If mum and dad are set in their ways, inflexible and uncommunicative, their child will be the same an remain closed and uncommunicative about issues that may be of the highest importance or conflict with their parent’s beliefs.

Let’s face it, these betweeny years are difficult for kids. Too young to be treated as independent adults, too old to be treated as children. Little access to social networking beyond the playground, hanging round the mall, joining the local church group or spending hours in front of a computer. Can’t drive, can’t work beyond getting a few bob for washing dad’s car, mowing the neighbour’s lawn or babysitting the brats next door.

I was the eldest and therefore the most highly disciplined. My objections were tame and I was never too controversial, although I remember almighty rows with my parents. mainly over lack of freedom and being judgemental about boyfriends. Even at 20, my father used to stand and flick the outside light on and off when I was being dropped home, just to let me know that he knew where I was and probably what I was doing. I had a 12:00 curfew and was often locked out of the house if I missed it, dragging a sleepy 11 year old out of bed to let me in.

My siblings were different. The hold over them diminished according to their age. In those days, the worst thing the boys did was grow long flowing locks and smoke behind the toilets at school. This for some reason didn’t cause anywhere near as much consternation as the long hair which irked my mother beyond reason. She then worked on my father and almighty arguments would arise over what? The length of their hair? It was clean, well-groomed just long. It’s just a way of showing parents that you’re fledging the nest. That you want to be different to their generation even though you might be conforming to another group. Emos don’t see their dress code as a uniform despite the fact that large groups of them huddle all dressed in black with half mast trousers, silver chains and black spikey hair. The surf culture don’t think they’re conforming but they wouldn’t be seen dead in Best and Less clothing, it has to be Billabong boardies or Mambo T-s. The surf is God and Beer comes close. The Hoodies emulate black American gangs with their oversized tracky daks and secret hand shakes. Even the language includes words like ‘dawg’ and ‘bounce’.

My point is, that the teen years are years of rebellion. It just happens in varying degrees. It’s not fair to expect your kids to be exactly like you, to want to conform to your ideals, politics and ideas of good behaviour. What’s important is good manners, values, principles and morals and you can have those no matter what you look like. And being able to cut free from the ties that bind – even just a little bit - is also good for a kid's self esteem. Of course if your kid’s right off the rails, it’s harder to bring them back on track by the time they've reached their teens, closeness needs to be cultivated while they’re young through love, conversation and non violent discipline.

If they’re doing drugs, underage drinking, breaking and entering or indulging in violent behaviour then that’s a whole different problem that needs more discussion than I’m capable of offering here

My advice. Keep your marital problems to yourselves, it’s not an issue for your children to deal with. Keep pillow talk where it belongs – in the bedroom. Show a united front with your children and discuss your differences in private. Be there when they need you and hang in the shadows when they don’t. Be understanding of their mistakes, not condemning. Show them love and physical affection. Don’t try to buy them off. If they’re just breaking the mould, dressing differently, listening to music you hate, being rowdy with mates - that’s normal. Encourage them to come home and make it easy for them to entertain friends without you prying. Drop them off and pick them up from parties and gatherings. Set a curfew but make it reasonable. These days things start late and end late. And you thought sleep deprevation ended with infants!

Respect is a two-way street. Don’t think for a minute that you haven’t been observed in your behaviour. Every disrespectful thing you do is burned into their psyche and will more likely than not be thrust back at you when the time is right.

For some, it’s an easy passage to adulthood. I was lucky. Mine have never used their home situation as an excuse for bad behaviour. I was a firm disciplinarian but also an understanding parent. There’s nothing they don’t know about me and little I don’t know about them. An open, honest relationship, plenty of trust and a little responsibility plus an ongoing dialogue in the teens probably helped. Most importantly, keep perspective. Don't sweat the small stuff, save the lectures for the really important issues. To be honest, my house has been filled with tatooed, pierced, dreadlocked alternative types over the years and the ones I've had to look out for are the clean cut straights. Butter might not melt in their mouth but they can be deviously deceptive.

Friday Frippery

I have been in battle with a smartass from a fund manager all day
I have $1.92 in the bank
It is raining very hard and has been all week
Crispy isn't happy cos his KISS cover band is changing lineup
Daz is incommunicado or in love, I've yet to ascertain which
Brian is having a long weekend and drinking Vodka
JD is off with the pixies
Grandad is tearing the health system apart
AV is waxing lyrical in her darkroom
DrummerBoy will be Drumming
ClareBear will be partying
Thommo has her day off
TheBoss has gone on a golfing holiday
K8 is playing nursmaid and cleaning windows
Kate is probably knitting and nursing a migraine
Nonny will be up to high jinks
Anonymous will be taking pics
Terrence is probably tipping cows
Wordnerd will be watching the game
Ian preparing his sermon
Ryan is counting down the days till he gets his shiny new 'ute'
TheBenchwarmer will be drinking coffee, lamenting lost love and smoking too much . . .
If I left anyone out, I'm sorry . . .

So to the rest of my bloggy friends . . . . . . . have a lovely weekend wherever you are. It's all good . . COS IT'S TIME TO GO HOME . . . .

And here's a little Aussie band with a song that I like, I just wish I was young enough to go to their concerts without looking conspicuous - Gyroscope with 'Snakeskin' - not quite what someone my age should enjoy . . .but then, I'm a little different.

Spookily True

I was just mucking about this morning and did this blogthings quiz but it's scarily accurate.

What Your Handwriting Says About You

You are a laid back person with rather low energy. You aren't lazy... you *are* sensitive and empathetic. You are reserved and not very outgoing. You are deeply thoughtful and introspective. You have a lot of control over your actions and emotions. You are balanced and grounded. You know how to get along well with others. You need a bit of space in your life, but you're not a recluse. You expect people to give you a small amount of privacy, and you respect their privacy as well. You are conservative, old fashioned, and a little stubborn. You are resistant to change. You are a decent communicator. You eventually get your point across, but sometimes you leave things a bit ambiguous.

What Does Your Handwriting Say About You?

Mars

There is no doubt we're different. And thank goodness. I love men and embrace diversity. Depsite their collective propensity to not realise that empty toilet rolls go in the bin and the toilet seat really should be left down . . .gotta love their bones!

Seems only fair after the Venus post that the girls reveal what they like in a man. And we're not all shallow, not all of the time anyway. I'm certainly not turned on by the incessantly cute yet hapless males in the feminine hygiene commercials or the well oiled and chiselled Armani types in razor blade ads. Sports figures generally leave me cold and a broken nose or angular jaw is not my scene. I can't stand the Beckham types all boofy and beautiful then open their mouths and all that exits is the "Pepsi" squeak.

I've gotta say, I'm a bum girl. Love the glutes . . . I like a bit of 'roundage' and can't stand saggy pockets filled with stuffed wallets. Let me carry your wallet for you darling! Money really is an aphrodesiac.

Faces are important but don't have to be screamingly handsome just nice looking with happy eyes and a willingness to smile. I'm more into personality attributes such as good sense of humour, intelligence, broad general knowledge, good conversation, fairness, and an ability to fix electronic things. As you get older, your priorities change somewhat.

I take notice of hands as well. They don't have to be soft but nails have to be clean. Teeth, also important . . . must be the horse lover in me but I like a man with a good set of his own pearly whites. They don't have to be straight, just well maintained.

Lips . . must have them . . .that's a given.

Not too hairy, not too svelte . . . not keen on facial hair.

Straight talker, no boardroomspeak, no silly games, a WYSIWYG man but gentle with it. Must remember birthdays and anniversaries.

Then again 'shallow me' will settle for buns so tight you can bounce 'em off the walls.

So, my vote for attractive men? I had a crush on (would you believe) Richard Harris when I was in my teens - what was I thinking? that's possibly sharing too much and you're now worried about my complete lack of judgement.

These days . . I like younger men . . . men my age seem to have lost their sense of humour and their humility. They tend to be serious, self absorbed, patronising and set in their ways and are strangely compulsed to remain in the 70's and 80's at all costs. They are reluctant to have their beliefs challenged.

So at the top of the list is someone like Christian Bale, now there's a man! Just that right amount of 'lispage' when he talks and an ever-changing body shape. Not to mention the rubber suit. Hugh Jackman's not bad either . . got those impish good looks and a cheeky smile. Plus he can act, sing and dance . . . I even saw him on a cooking show once so he's the well rounded package. Ahh Nananoo . . . OK not a lot between the ears but he's a killer in a long leather coat. . ."Whoaa . ."

Men my age . . .maybe my Gyno - er maybe not, that's a bit freaky. He's good looking enough but I couldn't deal with what he does for a living, knowing where those well manicured and steady hands have been.

Denzel Washington . . ahh now there's a smile to melt an icy heart!

In the mature stakes . . . I used to like Harrison Ford until he had his mid-life crisis, pierced his ear and affixed a prissy diamond and now looks like a real knob going out with Calista 'hang-on-to-me-in-case-the-breeze-knocks-me-over' Flockhart,

Best Senior heart throb? I can't really go past Anthony Hopkins - seriously spooky and ultimately huggable, he reminds me of my Dad!

What I want . . what I really really want . . .

What I'll get . . .

Venus

Tuesday night is my dread night. The kids are out. The TV is horrendous. I've flicked between Dancing with the Stars on Channel 10, CSI on Channel 7, Terrorist Tuesday on SBS which might have been worth watching if it wasn't for the interference as a legacy of our spring storms and ABC is playing The Bill. Ok I went shallow and settled for the Aussie version of Dancing with the Stars which poses 'celebrities'(dubious use of the word), poncing about in sparkly outfits, shaking ther maraccas and getting their Bon Bon on or off whatever! Tonight was Bollywood night . . God awful. Pretty ballroom dancers in skimpy Indianesque outfits and men who would rather be having a beer with the boys. But . . in the ad breaks, loads of skin care, cosmetics, fashion . . .so it got me thinking . . what do men like? I hear a lot of you referring to women as dogs, eggs and other derogatory comments but really are you so into looks that you fall for Maybelline's glistening lilps which looked so greasy that the chick would simply slide off your face and as if you'd go out with anyone wearing 'don't take home to mother' purple. Kate Moss is an imaciated freckle face who does a great impersonation of a cheap dry cleaner's coat hanger, Megan Gale . . now a real woman but does look a bit like a horse. Rich coming from the tubby mummy I know, but do you blokes like these women with fabulous Pantene hair and glistening lips with beautifully separated eyelashes or are you all looking at their complete lack of tits? What on earth appeals to you. The ads tonight confirmed to me that women do this tortuous stuff to themselves to compete with other women. And since I'm no longer competing, I find it really funny. I have frizzy hair, hate greasy lips, OK I'm partial to a nice Estee Lauder mascara and a bit of bronzer but . . .I just don't get it. Who's hot? Who's not. If I was a man . . .I'd be picking: Scarlet Johansen, pouty and pretty with flawless skin. Kate Blanchette, the sophisticated man's muse. Amy Lee from Evanesence for the Goth beauty . . . Lauren Bacall for the older set . . . so what gets you going guys, lips, eyelashes, blush, boobs or bums . . fishnets and suspenders or Bridget Jones big knickers . . . flanny jim jams or sauce neglege's . . . tarty leather or flouncy frills. If I was a man . . and I hasten to say I am not, this woman would capture my interest as pure, virtuous, natural selection kind of way, she's designed for all the things a woman personifies:


Although I see myself more like this . . .
Ah delusion is a comforting feeling.

Cacophany of Dissonance

I can't stand peace and quiet. Not total quiet. I need music, even background noise of the TV. I love a house full of people and laughter and raucusnous.

However there are some noises that grate on me big time. Late night/early morning revellers shouting loudly, egging my cars and tipping up the sulo bins on their destructive path home from the Tav on Friday nights. Noisy Minors, Cockatoos and Kookaburras at 5.00 in the morning. It's dark, no bird should be cackling away at that time it's too early to get up, too late to doze back off. Or kids 'creeping' around the kitchen in the wee hours trying to be quiet but actually crashing crockery and giggling loudly.

Then there are the mechanical irritations. Builders noise that isn' supposed to start until 7.00am cranking up at 6 on a Saturday morning. Trail Bikes and Pocket Bikes. Chain saws and dune buggies. Burglar and house alarms and late night barking dogs.

But the most insidious noises are the ones you hardly hear . . . the chomping noise that a colleague makes when eating their lunch, che plate chinker and the soup slurper. The habitual sniffer the indiscreet sneezer. Then there's the guy who spends all afternoon sucking the sesame seed from between his teeth and the throat clearer, the stomach rumbler . . . and one of my pet hates - the keyboard banger and without doubt the constant inteference and incessant warbling of TMAPITW! Seems noise upsets quite a few people. Look what I found.

. . .the little anal noises that nobody seems to care about but you.

Take Yer Knickers Off!

No, you're not imagining things, I deleted last night's post. Whilst it was written as only semi-serious and the comments were hilarious, my version events was of course skewed to my way of thinking and perhaps I took a little too much poetic license. I know, it's my blog and I'll rant if I want to but he who was the target of my bile wasn't impressed with my 'version' of events so to keep the peace I have instigated the first piece of self-regulation since the blog's inception. So . . having self-regulated, lets move on:

I grabbed this from the ABC site Friday afternoon:

A campaign is underway to chastise Burma's military regime, not through dialogue or sanctions, but by flooding the country's foreign embassies with women's underwear, an activist said.

A pro-democracy group based in the northern Thai city of Chiang Mai is urging people all over the world to "post, deliver or fling" their undergarments to Burma's international embassies.

"The Burma military regime is not only brutal but very superstitious. They believe that contact with a woman's panties or sarong can rob them of their power," the Lanna Action for Burma group said on its website.

The generals who rule Burma provoked international outcry in September when they violently cracked down on peaceful protesters, killing at least 13 people.

Europe, Australia and the United States led the chorus of disapproval, announcing new sanctions against the regime. Despite the outcry and a United Nations statement deploring the crackdown and urging dialogue, the junta has shown little sign of moving any closer towards democracy or freeing opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi. Those behind the so-called "Panty Power" campaign hope that lingerie can succeed where international diplomacy has so far failed.

"We want to raise awareness first, and we want to target the Burmese government officials, letting them know we are against them abusing their power," said Tomoko, an activist with Lanna Action for Burma.

Tomoko, who goes by one name only, said she had heard that Burma's embassy in Canberra as well as others in Thailand and the United States have been targeted by the Panty Power campaign, which began last week.

"We are sending [the generals] panties as a symbol of putting their power down," she said.

Is that why women throw their knickers at Tom Jones to get him orff the stage?

C'mon ladies, you've been looking for a form of activism that's easy, cheap and possibly effective. If only all inhumanity to man could be solved by chucking a pair of undies. Not to make too light of this, it is actually a concerted effort by those concerned.

I won't be posting my Bridget Jones' best but I am tempted to send a couple of pairs of ClareBear's 'wasteofpegs' to: Burmese Embassy, 132 Sathorn Nua Road, Bangkok 10500.

And for the record, no, that's not me in the photo!