The eight-week campaign is over. It's been all-out war. By that, I mean a game of politics.
It doesn't matter what part of the political spectrum you favour, the fundamental truth is that we live in a representational democracy, where people within a region defined by an independent & heavily scrutinised authority get to elect their representative in the national parliament.
Invariably, this comes down to a war between two sides, because the average person is not capable of envisaging war as having any more than two sides to any issue.
Because of that limitation of the human brain - or our lack of training in being able to think outside of such a limiting way of thinking - the war is either won or lost, there is a winner & a loser, & you either supported the winning or the losing side.
People often correlate politics to sport, which is no better. Although there are more than two teams playing, they are not doing so on the same field at the same time, so you can only watch one contest. When our ability to think outside of this simple paradigm allows us to invent games where there are multiple independent teams competing on the same field for some prize that does not necessarily require a single winner, then we will have taken a great leap forward in the way we view the world.
Until that time, Australian politics (US as well, UK to a large extent) is two sided, & then there are other parties who correlate more to unofficial referees or pitch invaders, dependent upon the respect shown by the general populace.
Like every war, this campaign has come to an end, although not to a conclusion at the time of writing, because there is no clear winner, even if the game has ended. This particular bout will be decided on points, & the judges are still in conference.
While the coaches berate their teams in the dressing sheds in the post-match warm-down & the media frenzy looking for a man of the match to lionise before the crowds that have been disappointedly baying for blood, some of the players have been asked for their thoughts.
"It's such a shame we lost bluey so early in the match - he's been a strong campaigner for several seasons, but they just cut his margin."
"I lost some good mates out there. They gave their all, & now they've gone - never to be seen in the house again."
War, sport, politics. It's a matter of scale, I guess.
In politics, no-one is injured - ever! No-one dies under enemy fire. People just retire from political life & either live off their parliamentary pension or take up charity chairmanships.
In a true democracy, those who were not re-elected should simply be seen as no longer being representative of the region for which they stood. If they belong to a party, then it's not even personal - it's the relevance of the party to that area. If they are an independent, then it's a lack of ability to communicate with (listen to as well as talk to) their neighbours.
Nothing more. There is no God-given right to be elected to parliament or even to stand for election. Anyone can stand. Anyone can be elected. Anyone can fail. Anyone can be defeated. That's democracy.
There'll be another game all too soon. The same team colours will come out in the reserve grade under a different coach (same club management), & we'll go through the same routine of feeling sorry for the 300-game player stretchered off the field with a career-ending slice to his margin.
I, however, will be cheering on the replacement who brings fresh legs, new ideas, & a passion to do better & show that they deserve to be a part of the run-on team in the next game. I will also appreciate the skills of the legendary player who saved their side from defeat yet-again.
I will forget the fallen. This is just politics, not war.
In war, nobody ever wins, & all of the fallen should be remembered.
03 July 2016
25 May 2016
Grapes of Strewth!
(Note - this is quite explicit.)
Hemorrhoids.
I had absolutely no idea what they were except as the butt of a joke from Austen Tayshus a very long time ago. It turns out that the slight lump in my bum was indeed the grapes of wrath (so called because the swelling going down looks like a bunch of grapes). Until I got up the courage to have my wife look up my back passage (standing in the front passage), I didn't realise that said lump was pressing on a nerve & was the cause of my sudden back pain.
Time to visit the doctor - preferably one I won't have to face again (& won't be facing this time).
A quick dose of embarrassment at the end of a rubber-gloved finger gave me the news: "You, sir, have piles!" He wasn't quite that chipper or polite, but I had to make allowances under the circumstances. He wrote down a cream named after my arse - easier to remember - & a letter of recommendation to a specialist ("patient has piles; your area of expertise, I believe").
It took two weeks to get into the consulting surgeon's offices, by which time my grapes had shrivelled down to sultanas under the brilliance of where the sun shines out.
It was a busy office. I was the last patient for the day, apparently, & had to wait more than hour for my appointment to be fulfilled, by which time I had noticed the misspelling of the surgeon's qualifications etched into the door, & discovered enough history to realise that I was not going to be dealing with a doctor, but a researcher who had decided to career change to surgery. Being South African, it would appear, a bedside manner was something for which my new rubber-glove-friend was neither qualified or trained.
I had prepared myself for someone tall, fair of hair & skin, & abrupt. I realised that I was still underprepared when I met her & remembered that I was soon to be her glove puppet.
She confirmed that things were "going along nicely" - although thankfully her practiced investigation while I was turned to the wall was even briefer than the GP's. She did however, suggest that "given my age" I should have a colonoscopy "just in case".
I made a booking as far away as I thought polite.
Unfortunately, even two months can skip past when you're ignoring the inevitability of people probing your nether regions while you're unconscious. You'll be asleep when they stick a tube up there, but you can well imagine just how long that thing is & how far up it's going.
I did not read the provided documentation until the last minute - that is, when I should have been putting things in play, like pre-admission for the hospital. The diet changes were minor - not even mildly annoying - but then there's the medicinal end of the procedural preparation.
MoviPrep.
It's as dramatic as hemorrhoids. A sentence in itself - in both the grammatical & sense of injustice.
The directions are almost threatening in their understatement - prepare the solution & chill for two hours. Chilling was the last thing on my mind as I'd already read humorous blogs relating the effects of this "solution". However, forewarned is ... simply another way to build up panic.
My first mouthful - & indeed hurried glassful - reminded me of L&P, that classic Kiwi drink. The second, not so. Successive glasses were increasingly more difficult to swallow between the effects
the product was having. One could say that the gap of thirty minutes between my first two visits to the bathroom was relaxing, but also not indicative of the power of this liquid to "cleanse the intestines".
I made a game of it - checking to see just how cleansed I was becoming, from passing a normally-brown-coloured wet stool, through to pissing out a stream of yellowish-not-quite-clear liquid through my mildly surprised sphincter.
It's not like diarrhea at all. It's very, very different. Diarrhea has your stomach behind it trying to get rid of stuff that could be bad for you. This is an indiscriminate eviction of all intestinal tenants.
In effect, I ingested two litres of "stuff", at least half a litre of water (to ensure non-dehydration?), plus my "meal" of (clear) chicken soup, over a period of less than five hours. My wife suggested it was so much liquid that I shouldn't rush it. My bladder was the least of my concerns.
Like contractions, the pain & exertion came more frequently until my labour was finally & suddenly over & I felt optimistic enough to sleep.
I went to bed in fear. I woke up in annoyance. Mostly, I was annoyed that I would have gotten up in half an hour anyway, so why my intestines decided that I needed one more burst of expulsion at that time was beyond me.
By comparison, the procedure itself was a dream.
Hemorrhoids.
I had absolutely no idea what they were except as the butt of a joke from Austen Tayshus a very long time ago. It turns out that the slight lump in my bum was indeed the grapes of wrath (so called because the swelling going down looks like a bunch of grapes). Until I got up the courage to have my wife look up my back passage (standing in the front passage), I didn't realise that said lump was pressing on a nerve & was the cause of my sudden back pain.
Time to visit the doctor - preferably one I won't have to face again (& won't be facing this time).
A quick dose of embarrassment at the end of a rubber-gloved finger gave me the news: "You, sir, have piles!" He wasn't quite that chipper or polite, but I had to make allowances under the circumstances. He wrote down a cream named after my arse - easier to remember - & a letter of recommendation to a specialist ("patient has piles; your area of expertise, I believe").
It took two weeks to get into the consulting surgeon's offices, by which time my grapes had shrivelled down to sultanas under the brilliance of where the sun shines out.
It was a busy office. I was the last patient for the day, apparently, & had to wait more than hour for my appointment to be fulfilled, by which time I had noticed the misspelling of the surgeon's qualifications etched into the door, & discovered enough history to realise that I was not going to be dealing with a doctor, but a researcher who had decided to career change to surgery. Being South African, it would appear, a bedside manner was something for which my new rubber-glove-friend was neither qualified or trained.
I had prepared myself for someone tall, fair of hair & skin, & abrupt. I realised that I was still underprepared when I met her & remembered that I was soon to be her glove puppet.
She confirmed that things were "going along nicely" - although thankfully her practiced investigation while I was turned to the wall was even briefer than the GP's. She did however, suggest that "given my age" I should have a colonoscopy "just in case".
I made a booking as far away as I thought polite.
Unfortunately, even two months can skip past when you're ignoring the inevitability of people probing your nether regions while you're unconscious. You'll be asleep when they stick a tube up there, but you can well imagine just how long that thing is & how far up it's going.
I did not read the provided documentation until the last minute - that is, when I should have been putting things in play, like pre-admission for the hospital. The diet changes were minor - not even mildly annoying - but then there's the medicinal end of the procedural preparation.
MoviPrep.
It's as dramatic as hemorrhoids. A sentence in itself - in both the grammatical & sense of injustice.
The directions are almost threatening in their understatement - prepare the solution & chill for two hours. Chilling was the last thing on my mind as I'd already read humorous blogs relating the effects of this "solution". However, forewarned is ... simply another way to build up panic.
My first mouthful - & indeed hurried glassful - reminded me of L&P, that classic Kiwi drink. The second, not so. Successive glasses were increasingly more difficult to swallow between the effects
the product was having. One could say that the gap of thirty minutes between my first two visits to the bathroom was relaxing, but also not indicative of the power of this liquid to "cleanse the intestines".
I made a game of it - checking to see just how cleansed I was becoming, from passing a normally-brown-coloured wet stool, through to pissing out a stream of yellowish-not-quite-clear liquid through my mildly surprised sphincter.
It's not like diarrhea at all. It's very, very different. Diarrhea has your stomach behind it trying to get rid of stuff that could be bad for you. This is an indiscriminate eviction of all intestinal tenants.
In effect, I ingested two litres of "stuff", at least half a litre of water (to ensure non-dehydration?), plus my "meal" of (clear) chicken soup, over a period of less than five hours. My wife suggested it was so much liquid that I shouldn't rush it. My bladder was the least of my concerns.
Like contractions, the pain & exertion came more frequently until my labour was finally & suddenly over & I felt optimistic enough to sleep.
I went to bed in fear. I woke up in annoyance. Mostly, I was annoyed that I would have gotten up in half an hour anyway, so why my intestines decided that I needed one more burst of expulsion at that time was beyond me.
By comparison, the procedure itself was a dream.
22 May 2016
Bicameral Vision
We lose sight of the origins & intentions of our democratic system to the point where, not only do we forget its advantages, we get distracted by those who intentionally want to subvert good process.
The number of times I have heard whinging about how the upper house (state or federal) "gets in the way" of law-making has even brought me to a point of tuning out & not responding with my old tune of " ... but that's their job!" Indeed, the whole point of having two houses of parliament is for one to set the laws & the other - having no part in the setting - ensuring that those laws make sense within themselves & for the people - a house of review.
We have muddied this for so long, where the "power" in the lower house - those who can control enough votes to set whatever laws they want to the exclusion of any good ideas coming from the other side of the house - will complain bitterly if they don't have the power in the upper house to steamroll whatever they want. They will use words like "mandate" or "trigger for a double dissolution" to imply that they are hard done by because the people did not trust them enough to review their own decisions (strangely).
Admittedly, the parliamentary system is far from perfect - & how people are elected to the two houses is constantly a matter of abuse & review in itself (by another party entirely, made up of public servants) - but to understand how it works best, you need to understand how it was meant to work when it was developed, & the years of changes in the English system from which ours was born.
My inspiration for beginning this blog, however, was not parliamentary decision making, but decisions for all social things. We still have a monarchical view of our democracy - someone comes into power, & they should be allowed to do what they want. This is tyrannical at the least, & we should have come a long way beyond that. It happens in government, in enterprises (Board Chairpersons or CEOs), & the public service (government-backed flunkeys placed in high positions).
What if, however, laws, rules, procedures & practices were developed in a bicameral way - one group to debate & propose changes, & another group to review & approve them (with limited ability to make changes)?
In a previous blog, I mentioned that education is a problem that no government can 'fix' because they just don't have the background or the desire to do anything socially useful to 'fix' the way in which non-voters (primarily) are educated.
What if, instead, educators were elected to a committee to investigate & propose laws, & a group of other interested parties - community representatives, administrators, parents, etc - were empowered to review & accept recommendations?
I know that sounds radical. It would also solve another of education's little problems - how do you get more out of the teachers who are skilled & knowledgeable & want to put back into the system without being administrators? You put them on committees of change, or involve them in reviewing changes - as professional & current teachers.
That way, you don't lose their interest, you gain from their experience, you give them something to aim for (a prestigious position on a committee), & you keep them engaged in the challenges that they themselves face in their day-to-day workplace.
Education is one such example. I don't want to list others, because the reality is that a bicameral vision could be applied to anything from the running of a public company to a charity. Looking at things differently, to see that rule by committee is possible, is one thing. Realising that any activity could benefit from the social experience of the members of any community is the big leap forward that democracy needs.
The number of times I have heard whinging about how the upper house (state or federal) "gets in the way" of law-making has even brought me to a point of tuning out & not responding with my old tune of " ... but that's their job!" Indeed, the whole point of having two houses of parliament is for one to set the laws & the other - having no part in the setting - ensuring that those laws make sense within themselves & for the people - a house of review.
We have muddied this for so long, where the "power" in the lower house - those who can control enough votes to set whatever laws they want to the exclusion of any good ideas coming from the other side of the house - will complain bitterly if they don't have the power in the upper house to steamroll whatever they want. They will use words like "mandate" or "trigger for a double dissolution" to imply that they are hard done by because the people did not trust them enough to review their own decisions (strangely).
Admittedly, the parliamentary system is far from perfect - & how people are elected to the two houses is constantly a matter of abuse & review in itself (by another party entirely, made up of public servants) - but to understand how it works best, you need to understand how it was meant to work when it was developed, & the years of changes in the English system from which ours was born.
My inspiration for beginning this blog, however, was not parliamentary decision making, but decisions for all social things. We still have a monarchical view of our democracy - someone comes into power, & they should be allowed to do what they want. This is tyrannical at the least, & we should have come a long way beyond that. It happens in government, in enterprises (Board Chairpersons or CEOs), & the public service (government-backed flunkeys placed in high positions).
What if, however, laws, rules, procedures & practices were developed in a bicameral way - one group to debate & propose changes, & another group to review & approve them (with limited ability to make changes)?
In a previous blog, I mentioned that education is a problem that no government can 'fix' because they just don't have the background or the desire to do anything socially useful to 'fix' the way in which non-voters (primarily) are educated.
What if, instead, educators were elected to a committee to investigate & propose laws, & a group of other interested parties - community representatives, administrators, parents, etc - were empowered to review & accept recommendations?
I know that sounds radical. It would also solve another of education's little problems - how do you get more out of the teachers who are skilled & knowledgeable & want to put back into the system without being administrators? You put them on committees of change, or involve them in reviewing changes - as professional & current teachers.
That way, you don't lose their interest, you gain from their experience, you give them something to aim for (a prestigious position on a committee), & you keep them engaged in the challenges that they themselves face in their day-to-day workplace.
Education is one such example. I don't want to list others, because the reality is that a bicameral vision could be applied to anything from the running of a public company to a charity. Looking at things differently, to see that rule by committee is possible, is one thing. Realising that any activity could benefit from the social experience of the members of any community is the big leap forward that democracy needs.
01 May 2016
We'll Never 'Fix' the Education System
We don't have the ability or will to 'fix' anything as complex as education.
A bold statement, but if anyone had said it twenty, or fifty years ago, people would have pooh-poohed them; & yet we've gotten nowhere over that time. I don't think I'm going out on a limb in saying what people have been thinking for a long time, & I won't have to wait twenty years to be "proven right".
The reason we won't fix the system is because those empowered to do so - those holding the purse strings - can't. They are the wrong people to see what the problems are, & they have the wrong reasons for applying fixes.
I am, of course, talking about politicians. They are not professional educators, they are not administrators of education systems, they have no skills in business transformation, they are not even employers of the newly educated. They have no vested interest in fixing education. They have no notion of the problems actually within the system. Their only goal is to appear to be doing something in the eyes of their electoral base.
Let's be cynical (of politicians - I'd like you to be quite open to my suggestions) for a moment. One side of politics claims that the best education is acquired in the private system, therefore the closer the public system can get to that, the more likely it will be 'fixed'. This is anathema to their opposition, who would take the first opportunity to reverse any policies put in place along those lines. That second unnamed political party would claim that encouraging the best teachers to stay in the public system (by offering better wages) would improve the general level of education. This, of course, smacks of unionism, which could not be supported by the first side.
What if they're both right? Neither side could possibly support or encourage the others' position. Worse - what if they're both wrong & we just don't have enough parties to offer policies that fly in the face of these dogmatic approaches & be aired & discussed before the general populace - not the voters, but the parents & teachers.
Education is big (number of people involved, number of stakeholders - kids, budget, time - thirteen-plus years of a person's life), & yet policies are squeezed into five-second sound-bites - preferably by a minister & two cronies with good haircuts & an ability to smile & nod without looking like axe murderers.
This is insane. This - & only this - is why the education system cannot be fixed. We - as a society - must treat education with respect & ask more of those placed (by us) in positions of power (government), so that they, in turn, are compelled to add a touch of professionalism to parliament & policy making that achieves real outcomes when the cameras & microphones are switched off.
A bold statement, but if anyone had said it twenty, or fifty years ago, people would have pooh-poohed them; & yet we've gotten nowhere over that time. I don't think I'm going out on a limb in saying what people have been thinking for a long time, & I won't have to wait twenty years to be "proven right".
The reason we won't fix the system is because those empowered to do so - those holding the purse strings - can't. They are the wrong people to see what the problems are, & they have the wrong reasons for applying fixes.
I am, of course, talking about politicians. They are not professional educators, they are not administrators of education systems, they have no skills in business transformation, they are not even employers of the newly educated. They have no vested interest in fixing education. They have no notion of the problems actually within the system. Their only goal is to appear to be doing something in the eyes of their electoral base.
Let's be cynical (of politicians - I'd like you to be quite open to my suggestions) for a moment. One side of politics claims that the best education is acquired in the private system, therefore the closer the public system can get to that, the more likely it will be 'fixed'. This is anathema to their opposition, who would take the first opportunity to reverse any policies put in place along those lines. That second unnamed political party would claim that encouraging the best teachers to stay in the public system (by offering better wages) would improve the general level of education. This, of course, smacks of unionism, which could not be supported by the first side.
What if they're both right? Neither side could possibly support or encourage the others' position. Worse - what if they're both wrong & we just don't have enough parties to offer policies that fly in the face of these dogmatic approaches & be aired & discussed before the general populace - not the voters, but the parents & teachers.
Education is big (number of people involved, number of stakeholders - kids, budget, time - thirteen-plus years of a person's life), & yet policies are squeezed into five-second sound-bites - preferably by a minister & two cronies with good haircuts & an ability to smile & nod without looking like axe murderers.
This is insane. This - & only this - is why the education system cannot be fixed. We - as a society - must treat education with respect & ask more of those placed (by us) in positions of power (government), so that they, in turn, are compelled to add a touch of professionalism to parliament & policy making that achieves real outcomes when the cameras & microphones are switched off.
25 March 2016
It's Time
We often think of politics in Australia as rather slow moving. Our political parties have been quite stable for some time, with the slow rise of the Greens coinciding with the demise of the Democrats as the "third option" or protest alternative to the two major political forces that have battled it out for supremacy almost since Federation.
That's been the tussle, though - the Labor party, backed by a labour movement, & their opposition, often a coalition of conservative & centrist ideologies that find common ground more in what they are opposed to rather than what they believe in.
Every so often, the name changes, the make-up, the basic ideology, but that opposition to the labour movement keeps the electorate's interest enough to ensure that, no matter how dramatic the circumstances of the party's birth, supporters will be found within the span of a government's term.
The Liberal party has had the longest run of the right-wing parties.
The only ructions to touch it seriously have been the creation of the Democrats (now defunct) & the merging of Liberal & National party interests in two states (still members of the coalition).
You could say that this is indicative of the different states' political needs, or else that, at its core, the Liberal party is past ready for its next incarnation - whatever that may be.
Each of the historical changes has been under the guidance & leadership of someone who was or became a great political leader. They were people within the political system who thought that their party had lost its way & had the courage to do something about it - Hughes, Lyons, Menzies.
In two of those cases, the party had reacted to their opposition by forcing them out.
Perhaps it's time for another leader to take that definitive step & create something new, something relevant, from the ashes of the conservative movement & bring it back to the middle ground from which it can show itself to be a palatable alternative to the labour movement.
By all means, leave the Liberal Party as it is, but I think that Malcolm Turnbull should leave it & forge a new movement more in keeping both with his own very liberal (small 'l') beliefs, & as far away as possible from the arch-conservatives who have been molding Liberal Party thinking for quite some time now.
Regardless of party donations, I believe that the electorate would appreciate a more considered centrist approach than what we are seeing now from the party of such heritage.
I can fully envisage a situation where these new liberals would still be a part of the coalition - it makes perfect sense - but I can also see a situation where they would be considered the natural leaders of the party even if they were the minority partners.
I believe that Malcolm does represent a distinct shift in thinking for the Liberal Party, & it is obvious that he is not comfortable being in the same party as his conservative cohorts.
The question is whether he has the courage to do something about it.
That's been the tussle, though - the Labor party, backed by a labour movement, & their opposition, often a coalition of conservative & centrist ideologies that find common ground more in what they are opposed to rather than what they believe in.
Every so often, the name changes, the make-up, the basic ideology, but that opposition to the labour movement keeps the electorate's interest enough to ensure that, no matter how dramatic the circumstances of the party's birth, supporters will be found within the span of a government's term.
The Liberal party has had the longest run of the right-wing parties.
The only ructions to touch it seriously have been the creation of the Democrats (now defunct) & the merging of Liberal & National party interests in two states (still members of the coalition).
You could say that this is indicative of the different states' political needs, or else that, at its core, the Liberal party is past ready for its next incarnation - whatever that may be.
Each of the historical changes has been under the guidance & leadership of someone who was or became a great political leader. They were people within the political system who thought that their party had lost its way & had the courage to do something about it - Hughes, Lyons, Menzies.
In two of those cases, the party had reacted to their opposition by forcing them out.
Perhaps it's time for another leader to take that definitive step & create something new, something relevant, from the ashes of the conservative movement & bring it back to the middle ground from which it can show itself to be a palatable alternative to the labour movement.
By all means, leave the Liberal Party as it is, but I think that Malcolm Turnbull should leave it & forge a new movement more in keeping both with his own very liberal (small 'l') beliefs, & as far away as possible from the arch-conservatives who have been molding Liberal Party thinking for quite some time now.
Regardless of party donations, I believe that the electorate would appreciate a more considered centrist approach than what we are seeing now from the party of such heritage.
I can fully envisage a situation where these new liberals would still be a part of the coalition - it makes perfect sense - but I can also see a situation where they would be considered the natural leaders of the party even if they were the minority partners.
I believe that Malcolm does represent a distinct shift in thinking for the Liberal Party, & it is obvious that he is not comfortable being in the same party as his conservative cohorts.
The question is whether he has the courage to do something about it.
Easter Stocking
My wife went shopping last night & bought the last loaf of bread in Christendom.
Yes, it was the night before Good Friday, & all through the shops, everyone was busy filling their trolleys like there was an oncoming apocalypse, rather than simply a day when the supermarkets wouldn't be open.
Why do we go through this farce every year?
I ask this of myself every year, & so it's time I asked anyone who happens to read this - which is like asking myself, but without the reflective bit.
Every year, at Easter, people run off to the shops on Thursday to stock up because they won't be able to shop again until Saturday. That's just a day.
I remember when I used to shop only once a week. It wasn't on Friday. I could cope.
Am I the only person who can either plan for shopping days in advance, or else not go shopping on one particular day?
What compounds the problem is that the supermarkets will specifically understock on everything but Easter eggs. They'll make a stupendous effort to get rid of their stock of Easter eggs, & will clear shelves of food so as to promote whatever they've had stored away in warehouses since last Easter.
You can possibly understand that the perishables - bread in particular - might not proliferate on the shelves, knowing that there'd be no-one to buy stale bread the day after.
This might contribute to the rush to get the last loaf of bread on a Thursday night, but to the point where there is no bread left?
It was Thursday - late night shopping - & there were several good hours of shopping remaining when the last loaf left.
On the other side of the problem, why do we continue to close the shops on Good Friday & Sunday at all?
It's all well & good to say it's a religious celebration, but the fact remains that we don't have a state religion & there is an increasing number of people in this country who are either atheistic or practicing non-Christians.
There is no excuse for laws that impose a religious observance on the populace.
I honestly don't care who eats meat on Good Friday - that's not my problem.
There have been many arguments in the past - often from unions - that having shops open at Easter & Christmas means that staff will be expected to work & not be with their families.
I put it to you that it's time for every Muslim part-time shop assistant to put their hand up & say "I'm free!" I'll guarantee Coles & Woolies would have more than a skeleton staff on hand to cope with those who would rather shop than spend time with their family.
Obviously, this argument equally applies to penalty rates in general.
If you want people to spend time with their families, then don't encourage them to work by paying them more on weekends.
Anyway, it's Good Friday. I've had my toast for breakfast.
The shops are closed. I'm bored.
I'll go read a book until I get around to some religious observance.
Yes, it was the night before Good Friday, & all through the shops, everyone was busy filling their trolleys like there was an oncoming apocalypse, rather than simply a day when the supermarkets wouldn't be open.
Why do we go through this farce every year?
I ask this of myself every year, & so it's time I asked anyone who happens to read this - which is like asking myself, but without the reflective bit.
Every year, at Easter, people run off to the shops on Thursday to stock up because they won't be able to shop again until Saturday. That's just a day.
I remember when I used to shop only once a week. It wasn't on Friday. I could cope.
Am I the only person who can either plan for shopping days in advance, or else not go shopping on one particular day?
What compounds the problem is that the supermarkets will specifically understock on everything but Easter eggs. They'll make a stupendous effort to get rid of their stock of Easter eggs, & will clear shelves of food so as to promote whatever they've had stored away in warehouses since last Easter.
You can possibly understand that the perishables - bread in particular - might not proliferate on the shelves, knowing that there'd be no-one to buy stale bread the day after.
This might contribute to the rush to get the last loaf of bread on a Thursday night, but to the point where there is no bread left?
It was Thursday - late night shopping - & there were several good hours of shopping remaining when the last loaf left.
On the other side of the problem, why do we continue to close the shops on Good Friday & Sunday at all?
It's all well & good to say it's a religious celebration, but the fact remains that we don't have a state religion & there is an increasing number of people in this country who are either atheistic or practicing non-Christians.
There is no excuse for laws that impose a religious observance on the populace.
I honestly don't care who eats meat on Good Friday - that's not my problem.
There have been many arguments in the past - often from unions - that having shops open at Easter & Christmas means that staff will be expected to work & not be with their families.
I put it to you that it's time for every Muslim part-time shop assistant to put their hand up & say "I'm free!" I'll guarantee Coles & Woolies would have more than a skeleton staff on hand to cope with those who would rather shop than spend time with their family.
Obviously, this argument equally applies to penalty rates in general.
If you want people to spend time with their families, then don't encourage them to work by paying them more on weekends.
Anyway, it's Good Friday. I've had my toast for breakfast.
The shops are closed. I'm bored.
I'll go read a book until I get around to some religious observance.
28 January 2016
Life with Blow-Hards
I play bagpipes. Please don't hold that against me.
I've been playing with bands for nearly twenty years, it occurred to me, but bands are a social group of slow change - which is probably no different to political parties, Lions clubs, Freemasons, Toastmasters, or the Budgie Fanciers Association. Due to slow change, nothing "happens".
Everyone comes up with great ideas at committee meetings, or things that "need to be done"; we discuss (argue), vote (compromise) & do nothing until the next year comes around when you discover that the person delegated to look into the topic got so fed-up with not getting support that they left the group.
Over time, you get the same unshiftable bodies doing the same whinging & achieving SFA. Sound familiar? If not, join a group, because you obviously haven't been a member of one!
The thing about bands (pipe or otherwise) is that not just any fool can join - there is also a threshold of entry: you need to be able to prove that you can play an instrument or contribute in some way to the musical output of the group. Sure, it's not an entry exam equivalent to Mensa (which you can only sit for twice), because bands will always need drummers (which is how I started).
However, some proficiency is required before you get to perform in public, in general. This is where it gets interesting. Once upon a time, when television was a wonder you watched through a shop window & pubs closed at 6pm, bands were the only kind of thing you could do to entertain yourself (with your mother watching). It was rather impressive to say that you could play an instrument & that you performed for an audience - it implied talent. Now, people who can take photos of themselves are considered talented, so pipe bands just can't compete.
In those glory days, bands required a high level of skill & mastery of a repertoire before a player would be considered for a uniform. Once they were in the band, players had to hold their position jealously from the up-&-coming youths, hungry for their chance at local fame. There were rules & regulations to conform to, so that you were always on your toes, doing your best, keeping an eye on everyone else in case they slipped up & you could claw your way to the front rank.
But times have changed. I'd be happy to find someone with the smallest glimmer of interest in learning pipes & the tiniest potential for learning a tune. Players can be rushed into a band to make up the numbers, then abandoned to their own devices thereafter to keep up with everyone else (sometimes literally, in the case of marching up the street, as it takes practice to walk in step & play a tune).
The old guard - those who fought for the right to play in the front rank - shake their heads & scowl & talk of "the youth of today" (those under fifty) not being as spirited as "in their day". They point at the rules written thirty year ago as the standards to live by, & how it's so hard to find talented youngsters interested in carrying on the traditions of bands. They complain as they struggle to play one more tune or walk up one more hill. They will continue to do so until the day their pipes are ripped from hands stiffened with rigor mortis.
The real question is whether I'll be the one lovingly resting the pipes in their coffin as it glides into the furnace (crematorium, not necessarily hell), or whether I'll have joined the Budgie Fanciers by then.
I wonder if you need to have your own budgie ...
I've been playing with bands for nearly twenty years, it occurred to me, but bands are a social group of slow change - which is probably no different to political parties, Lions clubs, Freemasons, Toastmasters, or the Budgie Fanciers Association. Due to slow change, nothing "happens".
Everyone comes up with great ideas at committee meetings, or things that "need to be done"; we discuss (argue), vote (compromise) & do nothing until the next year comes around when you discover that the person delegated to look into the topic got so fed-up with not getting support that they left the group.
Over time, you get the same unshiftable bodies doing the same whinging & achieving SFA. Sound familiar? If not, join a group, because you obviously haven't been a member of one!
The thing about bands (pipe or otherwise) is that not just any fool can join - there is also a threshold of entry: you need to be able to prove that you can play an instrument or contribute in some way to the musical output of the group. Sure, it's not an entry exam equivalent to Mensa (which you can only sit for twice), because bands will always need drummers (which is how I started).
However, some proficiency is required before you get to perform in public, in general. This is where it gets interesting. Once upon a time, when television was a wonder you watched through a shop window & pubs closed at 6pm, bands were the only kind of thing you could do to entertain yourself (with your mother watching). It was rather impressive to say that you could play an instrument & that you performed for an audience - it implied talent. Now, people who can take photos of themselves are considered talented, so pipe bands just can't compete.
In those glory days, bands required a high level of skill & mastery of a repertoire before a player would be considered for a uniform. Once they were in the band, players had to hold their position jealously from the up-&-coming youths, hungry for their chance at local fame. There were rules & regulations to conform to, so that you were always on your toes, doing your best, keeping an eye on everyone else in case they slipped up & you could claw your way to the front rank.
But times have changed. I'd be happy to find someone with the smallest glimmer of interest in learning pipes & the tiniest potential for learning a tune. Players can be rushed into a band to make up the numbers, then abandoned to their own devices thereafter to keep up with everyone else (sometimes literally, in the case of marching up the street, as it takes practice to walk in step & play a tune).
The old guard - those who fought for the right to play in the front rank - shake their heads & scowl & talk of "the youth of today" (those under fifty) not being as spirited as "in their day". They point at the rules written thirty year ago as the standards to live by, & how it's so hard to find talented youngsters interested in carrying on the traditions of bands. They complain as they struggle to play one more tune or walk up one more hill. They will continue to do so until the day their pipes are ripped from hands stiffened with rigor mortis.
The real question is whether I'll be the one lovingly resting the pipes in their coffin as it glides into the furnace (crematorium, not necessarily hell), or whether I'll have joined the Budgie Fanciers by then.
I wonder if you need to have your own budgie ...