Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Cool it baby

Sex. Fabulous stuff. And here at overthinking I have avoided the subject pretty much. You see I could get into big big trouble if a certain person reads anything about this subject here on my beautifully old man-ish blog. It's a taboo. Well sorry darling I gotta say something on the subject. It's simply too large a subject to avoid any longer.

So sex-----------what can I say about it?

I've been at it for a long long time. It's an expression.It's a passion. It can be a compulsion. It's important. It's confronting. It makes us vulnerable. It's different with every person although it seems to be the same act. It's a deal maker or breaker. It's a motivator. It's a distraction. It relaxes . It stresses. It's pleasure. It's life and larger than life at the same time. It's anticipations greatest moment.

There is so much more the overthinking man could write here but there's enough to think about in what's been written by far more skilled writers than me.

But here's the really deep thing about sex. It creates life and that makes it the pinnacle act available to creatures. And us with our massive brain and its associated senses find it to be the best sensory experience we have available on this mortal plain.

Having said all that. Why do people put it down? Why do some people say it's overrated? Why do some people have it and afterwards feel that they have in some way performed a wrongful act? Why do all the religions spend so much of their efforts controlling an act that is inherintly magnificent?

I guess it's because to really do sex in the way it feels righteously performed involves a commitment between the parties involved. A commitment to actually feeling something beyond the physical. A commitment to allow a special bond to form between the parties.

And that commitment is: after we have had sex we must continue to have more sex and to forever wash dishes together in the eternal sink of bliss.

There. Wasn't that brilliant?

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Thinking about thinking

Does the creator of this universe exist?

Did this same creator actually make himself mortal and walk amongst us?

Does our mind continue after our body dies?

Do we actually have a meaning and a purpose in our existence beyond just living day to day?

Did man ever rise to this technological state in the distant past only to go extinct through that same technology?

Are there intelligent extraterrestrial civilizations out there?

Now. The big question Where did I put the plug for the sink? Dishes await.

It's all good

This movie has just been released; The Age of Stupid, a drama-documentary set in a world destroyed by climate change, aims to highlight environmental issues.

I like a good comedy and let's face it, the state of this planet is a tragedy whilst the response by us inhabitants is a comedy. We aren't humans we are ostriches with our heads deeply buried in the sand. If any of us had any kind of motivation left in us we would all be at war right now. And who would we be targeting- the world's leader that's who. The whole lot of them are on a perpetual go slow whilst the world goes down ever faster.

Then I got to thinking----of course---it's really human nature to be extravagant with limited resource. Just think of it. We spend money we don't have and worse we spend time which we don't have. We do these things contrary to the facts in front of us. It's no wonder the Earth is going down. We are consuming it even though it is scarce, rare and irreplaceable. Just look into the sky at night. Do you see any blue bubbles out there that we can jump onto when this one is gone?

But we leave all the lights on when we don't need them we leave the heating on when we are cozy in our beds and we leave the important matter of taking action to relieve the global issues in the hands of just a few egotistical men. We deserve what is coming. And no-one knows what that will be- we can guess-but we've never faced what is coming before so we can't really know. One thing's for sure- it won't be good.

Now. I'm going back to sleep like the rest of you.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Feeling depressed

Warning. There is nothing funny in this post.

I know a million people who suffer depression- well a slight exaggeration- I know a few though. Nothing seems to relieve them of the curse. And it is a curse. Depression is not sadness it is worse. It is a total flattening of the sufferer's everything. They have no bounce. None at all. It would be hell I think. Numbers of sufferers are apparently on the rise too. Bipolar is the latest most diagnosed psychological problem in the Western world.

Well, how do you stay good to go? How do you stop the blackness closing in? Or more to the point. How do I manage to keep it from happening to me when I have so many around me regularly reporting their glum mood to me. The answer lies in the last sentence. So read it carefully if you suffer depression.

The cure for depression is tied up with the care we give to others. If we are the kind of person who wants to give we are safe. If our personality is more of the taking kind then we are at risk. If we want others to solve our problems or even if we rely on others to bring light into our darkness then we are takers not givers. The more we go the taking option the more we get paid back with depression.

This may sound like I am kicking the down. No. I am stating why I believe I don't get depression and others I love do. I am of a giving disposition permanently. It is natural to me and this is why I am happy. Everyone has a choice in this matter. Even when it doesn't feel like it- we do have a choice. Be a taker with the side effects of depression or be a giver and be happy. I love my choice I can tell you.

FU! I won't do what you tell me

Rage against the machine. Hell yeh!

I just checked out the Problogger website. It gives 10 tips for writing a blog here

No wonder my blogs aren't gaining in popularity. I write too much. Apparently 250 words should be the maximum. So I will do an example below:

Here goes:

Hi Guys. Don't wish to take to much time but I really want to tell you all about something that has been on my mind for the past few days. It's really complex but I only have 250 words to get it to you so please pardon me if I have to leave some things out.

The other day I was walking down the road and I noticed that there are a lot of buildings that are made out of glass now. In my younger days we were always told that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Does this mean that people in these modern times have lost the ability to throw stones? Or does it mean that there are not as many stones these days for people to throw because everything is covered over with bitumen and concrete. So it is safe to have glass houses now because of these two thing. ( I'm up to 150 words right here)

I hope you are able to stay with me a bit longer because I havent got to the main point of my writing yet. Are you handling it OK? It's not too much for you I hope. I know it's a big ask for you to keep your attention on this but I think you will really enjoy what I have to say. Oh no! I see your eyes wandering. You are starting to shift around. You are bored arent you? Oh. what can I do to help you stay with this till I have finished? ( 241 to here) I will just press on I guess in hope----------------------------------------------------------------

See? I simply couldn't do that. I would get anxious all the time. I like to feel free to write as long as I like. If anyone reads it-- well -- I don't care. I'm such an anarchist.

Oh. And I think the colour of the writing is more important than the content.

So F@#$% U I won't do what you tell me------

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Music in the 60's and 70's versus now

Saw an article on Woodstock and the 60's on the age site today. It stated that the 60's werent that special, significant or great. The writers word was "flash". Well let me flash this cocky little arse wiper something-------

Back then music was fresh and new. Now it is stale. The production sounds way better now of course- but it is all cynical marketing formulas. It is all sadly lacking in something that was around in the 60's and 70's. Its called groundbreaking musical creations and innovation. But really it was raw passion. It was never before heard when released then but now it's all been heard before.

So modern little maestros need to show us oldies of Woodstock vintage something new that doesn't sound like something we've heard before -- come up with something that you can truly call your own. Stop relying on a musical movement that was developed in the 60's and give us something that is truly only possible using creative ideas born of today.

Something to compare with Jimi Hendrix for instance. There is not one act I can think of that is of today that could compare to the jaw dropping difference this man presented to the world- his world- our world of the 60's. This one man has blasted all the little piss ants rockers of today away ---from the grave. Watching his performance at Woodstock over the last few days just validated that he was a oncer. But he also represented the passion of the day for newness in all its musical glory. We've had the last 40 years to try and better his effort in terms of groundbreaking and truly new musical creations--- no-one has. Get over it. You'll never silence the boom of us boomers--try as you will-- you all just sound like bleating little sheep to us.

Wah Wah! Boo Hoo! --we can't better our Papas and Mamas. Wah Wah!

Sooky babies!!!!

Monday, August 17, 2009

To be or not to be

That is the question. What is the question? To marry or not to marry. To grow fat or to grow skinny. To grow rich or to become poor. To have children or to stay selfish. All kinds of questions go round in our brain. We are kept busy. But I think it is best to just be.

What is just being? It could be sitting in a darkened room alone. Or it could be seen as like a leaf on the wind- just going with it. It could be seen as taking no action and simply letting all unfold around you. It is really to do with doing very little; taking only necessary action; abandoning those that have no real use other than making us think they are necessary at the time-but they are not. Goodness if we were able to look at ourselves from a distance we would see the unnecessary thing we say and do in our lives. We would see that we really don't have free will and that we are driven along by all kinds of pressures we don't see when we are up close and personal with them.

If we could step outside ourselves I wonder what we would think of ourselves. Would we see ourselves as fools or would we be more sympathetic and feel sorrow at our plight? Would we like to kiss ourselves or thrash our spoilt little selves with a big stick?

To be. Nothing else required but to be. Worrying is an option. We really just have to be.

But we know that is just too much to ask----don't we?

Saturday, August 15, 2009

40 years since Woodstock

I'm sitting here at my computer and catching the waft of cat's piss wondering where the little blighter has done it this time whilst I was out. I'm thinking " Wow! How things have changed!"

It's the fortieth anniversary since Woodstock the Rock concert that showed the youth culture of the time to be peace loving music fans who relished sex and drugs. I've been watching the old footage of it and reminiscing about my own life at the time. The biggest difference I see for young ones today versus my youth is the variety they must consume to stay modern or as we used to call it "cool". We never had the glowing rectangle thing for instance. Every kid these days has their head poked into the glow from some kind of rectangular screen. We watched telly in those days of course and it was black and white.

But we didn't have all the other rectangular screen things. And we had music without visual accompaniment. Music was music and it was for the ears only. Now if it doesn't have the scantily clad gyrating and air fucking hornbag doing her stuff in a totally disconnected way then it ain't music. Unless it's on an MP3 player. Then you just stare at the small glowing rectangle of the player so at least you got something to look at. The music itself used to be organic- you know- real musicians playing real instruments. And guess what? They even made mistakes. It wasn't perfect. How novel!

And we didn't have all this clothing to choose from. We dressed plain but we did our own embellishing by means of buttons and braid and scissors and paint and whatever. I used to shop at the Army Disposals for my stuff coz somehow we thought fucked up military clothes were fashion. No-one told us this like they do these days-- we just knew somehow. Now the young ones are guided through every step of the way in their individuality so that really they don't have individuality. It is produced. Anything goes was the rule of the 60's to mid 70's. Now we have shopping centres filled with shit from China. The end of Aussie fashion really. The indigenous fashion is gone the way of the dinosaur. And that's pretty much what I am now.

Anyway Woodstock. I wasn't there. But I was at two of the good old Sunbury concerts which was Australia's answer to it. It was allright. But I remember at the time that I was pretty underwhelmed. This is the youthful response to just about everything and this is the one thing that has stayed the same. I do think the modern youth do a far better job of being underwhelmed than we ever did however. This is almost their strongest attribute.

They been overwhelmed by so much now that they are in a perpetual state of being underwhelmed by everything. Perfect!. Give 'em all the shit you could possibly imagine, give 'em every drug they can get their hands on, wash it all down with some piss then get 'em fucking everything they can lay their loins on and life is great for our youth. But they are still totally unexcited and need more and more and more to get off on.

I've changed my mind. Things haven't changed. There's just more of the same.

Friday, August 14, 2009

These are priceless

Found these gems. They are flowcharts on the way men and women argue. Click on the image to magnify them- too hard to read without doing this. I particularly like the way there is not a "No" option for women in " Are you right"








Lessons in keeping silent

How hard is it to shut up? I know people who are able to keep quiet when in the company of others. But I can't do it myself. I feel obligated because someone else is there to engage with. It feel that if I am silent they will think I am not interested in them or something. So I keep chatting away about anything and everything. Much of it is a total waste of time and I could find so many more productive things to do with my time than to sit there rattling on about some simple nonsense about this person or that. Most of it is gossip of course. But I go ahead and rattle on anyway because I simply do not wish to be rude.

Then there are others I know who completely take over the conversation. They never draw breath and if you dare to open your mouth they immediately say- "Let me finish what I am saying" which they never truly do. Well they do keep me silent but in a totally put a lid on it way and I find that rude, insulting, frustrating and imprisoning on their part.

So how can I ever be successfully silent? I read an interview between a journalist and the famous film maker Quentin Tarantino this morning. In his article the journo was complaining about the lack of engagement displayed by the famous director. His answers were short with no padding. It obviously made the journo uncomfortable because he makes his living from padding out small and unimportant banter into paid for articles. Lack of tautology makes for a very short article. Quentin simply puts what has to be said and then shuts the fuck up. The barest of minimum. What a genius! What a guy! He's got it so right. He is so rich and famous he doesn't care if he offends by being short, to the point and silent if nothing needs to be said.

I wanna be like that. But I can't coz everyone will think I am rude or I have lost it because they are so used to me being engaging and they mistakenly think it is me being friendly. I only talk because I am nervous really. Isn't that interesting? Most of the time, underneath and inside of me, I yearn to finish the conversation and get some alone time to do what is important to me. But I'm so gutless I continue to sit there in a sort of mind daze- listening and talking about shit that is about as interesting as watching grass grow. Why? Because I want to be seen as the good guy--and part of that is not being rude. Am I the only one who feels like this?

We pad things out. We probably feel comfortable in the sound of our own voice. We outlet all that build up of mind chatter in our conversation most of which doesn't need to be said in the first place. We are so busy talking that we really never listen.

It's exhausting. It's exasperating. It's normal.

No wonder there is road rage. The only time we can cut people off is when surrounded by tons of metal. Then we feel safe to do so.

I'm not an overthinking man I'm an overtalking man.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Religious Rockstars

Whilst in the Gold Coast we met up with a family who showed us excellent hospitality in their mansion of a house. It was a real treat. They were a religious bunch so on Sunday we all trundled off to the church of their choice. This was situated in the heart of Surfers Paradise.

Now I've been to some fairly spectacular church services in my time but this one took the prize as the most excessive to date. From the outside you couldn't even tell that it was a church. It looked like any other building in the party city. It was very commercial in appearance more like a business building. Of course it was a business building. It was the business of God. We were lead up several levels and then a flight of stairs to the top floor of course. Where else would God live? Then along a long corridor and up a final set of stairs to enter a large auditorium filled with noisy music from a full on band, people and lights. Man, we had entered a rock concert by mistake. An early Sunday morning rock concert--- no-----it was a church service because all the screens projected religious lyrics for the masses to read and chant.

This kind of thing is not new. It is the American way that now pollutes our shores as does all things American. But this one had the edge. It had a pastor who actually looked like a rock star and was in fact a Melbourne muso in the '80's. His misses was also up there on stage belting it out. He looked like a Nick Cave type and she--------she------- well, bright orange hair---sequined denims low hung guitar-----need I say more? These guys couldn't crack it in Satan's world so they went into God's and did.

After a totally overblown and over loud performance came the sermon---errr---no-----you guessed it----the ads. The big screens offered all kinds of DVD crap for sale and events to relieve the believers of their hard earned. Excuse me---didn't Christ have a problem with this sort of thing in the table turning routine? Oh well all's fair in capturing and saving souls I guess. Then it's on to the main event. The guy was a true pro showman. He was full of gags whilst he belted out his message for the day. He was truly excellent at laughing at his own jokes too. He needed to reinforce that he was joking. I believed him completely. I thought " You gotta be joking!"

Anyways after the service we proceeded down to the Gloria Jean's coffee lounge which was within the church building of course. Now I didn't want to pay for a coffee. Part of the deal in suffering through a service like this had to be a free coffee at the end. It's only fair. The guy we were staying with said they offered free Gloria Jeans coffee if you went into ----wait for it---- The Connect Lounge. I was sold and off we went to get a free one. I stormed in to an intimate little room. The first thing I noticed was a plate of the most excellent biscuits. All my favourites. Alongside this was a line of perfect Cappucino waiting for me. This is God's place coz here was Heaven. When my eyes finally left this magnificent scene and I looked around further they fell onto the most disturbing sight I have ever witnessed. On the other side of the table stood the most perfect specimens of female beauty I had seen in a long while. They smiled at me in the most alluring way. They were true angels or were they. A man is not good in facing such a thing. Thoughts can wander. Not mine of course--but many men. I could see it all--marketing---fill em with Coffee, biscuits, beautiful women ---all the pleasures of the world--- then bring em home to daddy.

I chose to talk not to the good looking girls in there but to a safer subject. A very handsome young man. He was there for converting the girls or the gays of course but he had to put up with me. I talked at a million miles an hour about our trip and frantically gulped at my coffee till it was finished whilst watching his jaw muscles tighten and loosen in the strain of it because his agenda was not being met and he was strained. Then I did the old escape routine when my saviour arrived saying Pete-- we gotta go. I was saved that day. By my good buddy Ben.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Trip North

Well I'm back from my travels up North. It was a wonderful roadtrip with a good mate. I have much to report but I will start with this because it pissed me off so much. Once I get this out of the way I will be able to relax and get into the good parts of my journey.

The highway is full of tailgaters--------

I found the constant tailgating on the road to be the biggest single piss off. I have reported these weird types of people before here on my blog. But when you travel vast distances across our great land with some strange little driver stuck firmly to your rear you gotta think What the fuck? What is it all about. It's like they are fixated with driving as close as possible at really high speeds to the rear end of your vehicle. What is it about? I've looked at this strange practice every way I am able to think of and I can't for the life of me understand what causes a person to want to crawl up and try and push their car into the car in front of them.

When we people are out of our cars and wandering around in public places we are all so polite and avoid any close contact with our fellow. We have our personal space and it is kept at all times. We are all polite with our excuse me's and sorry's to everyone we get too close to. But on the highway it's another story. It's like we forget that we are human beings. We become metal objects that roar around being as rude and up close as possible. We get pushy.

But here's the real kicker to all this. We drove thousands of kilometres putting up with the tailing masses , with huge trucks pushing us at every encounter, push push push--- we get to the very last leg of our journey and this happens:

First a huge road train overtakes us up hill over double lines on a blind curve. That driver was a total homicidal freak. My mate then reports that he has a tailgater hard up against his rear as usual-- but this one is sorta strange in that he comes up close then tails off several times and just sits on the pace. My mate somehow lost it for the very first time in several weeks and stepped on the gas to get away from the latest ratbag behind us. The road was windy and there was continuous double lines. He kept within the speed limit but the vehicle was hanging out somewhat around the curves because vans are not real handlers. This went on for about five minutes or so and then we are bathed in blue and red disco lights. Yes. A bloody cop. Busted for crossing double lines at the very last moment of our trip after two weeks of putting up with all those pushy pricks the last pushy prick was a cop.

Here's another little snippet for you:

Here's an example of truckie mentality. We were sitting at an outback roadhouse having breakfast. A solemn looking truckie was on the table near us reading the paper. The nice country woman waitress came to his table and politely asked if he wished to have sour cream on his baked potato. He didn't take his eyes off the paper. After a long pause whilst she waited patiently he uttered in a short gruff voice-- " Don't care" So now we have a new way to treat people who serve us---yes--no--don't care. I guess that means that the truckie is over thinking about things of little matter. He must be like me. I'm gonna practice saying "don't care"

Don't care. Don't care. Don't care------- Oh! It doesn't work ---- I do care.