Deliberations of a broken leg

Post Op

Being bedridden on a suitable diet of opioids, Yunnan Baiyou and other goodies can be frustrating when one cannot take it for what it is and cultivate a little acceptance. One method involves flicking between whatsapp, wechat, discord, suckerberg’s fukbuk and some more substantial material like the Dao de Jing, some of Damo Mitchell’s books on nei gong, Kropotkin and a bit of recent Chinese literature. Interleave this with the latest Alexander Mercouris updates on foreverwars, Chinese telenovelas and a steady stream over the last few days of Assange videos and keep one’s system chugging along (I will return to all or some of these in later posts). Social media – one of those great neoliberal oxymorons that subsume our times -provides an outlet to constantly remind the world of your existence and suffering. This results as one wag put it:

“I love this new you
it’s a bit like in the olden turn of the century days, back in the Opium Dens of Lisbon, London and Paris
the brain haze unblock the channels”.

Thus this morning I woke up resolved:

“I’m so impressed with my bedridden little diatribes I think I’m developing some Yunnan Baiyou and tramadol driven haze style. Thinking of having a blog page on my new website”.

I am sure there are many out there that definitely are not amused by this Bolaño-ist activity of crashing into people’s stream of posts like a heroin speed balled soaked disruptive poet. But one who follows the way must follow the way of interfering and intervening in accordance with nature. Floods and cascades serve their natural purpose in a world condemned to touchy feely ‘inclusive’ mediocrity.

Yunnan Baiyao thanks to the PRC Medical Team in Timor-Leste

So hold on as I find my jottings from bed and spew forth in search of your utter disdain or amusement and love. As with the world these egurgitations do not proceed in a linear or consistent fashion. It is up to you or your God to take them and play as you will.

and let the games begin

Wed 26 June 2024 Morning speculation before the release of Julian on the subject of hashtag alboscomo

I’ve been ‘watching’ Australian politics with my usual social distance, disdain and bemusement. The big issue at the moment is the LNP’s desire for nuclear power. There is always a big issue in Australia to make people feel self righteous and content. The ALP are running ‘hard’, not actually, but well ‘hard’ for them, against the crazy LNP plan in the hope I suspect that it will boost their slipping (is slipment a word?) in the polls. They are so flim flamsy that they can’t even stay ahead of the walking dickhead (he really is) Dutton. But if history tells us anything we will eventually see the existing or the new body that is the reigning #alboscomo adopt a ‘reasonable’ (read treasonable) policy based on (corporate/national) objective) reality to introduce a ‘sensible’ and ‘necessary’ implementation of the same plan. But only after they’ve won an election on doing the opposite first. In the meantime people will get ‘passionate’ (worked up) and feel fulfilled with their engagement with politics until it’s necessary or them to see the yellow cake light to preserve their obese Aussie way of life. Good morning. As the song goes ‘This is Australia’ and you’re standing in its shit.

Mother Teresa of Nimbin’s words of wisdom: In Australia not much happens, so there always needs to be a contestable issue thrown to the masses to keep them getting engaged. I fear for the kids and the oldies.

Thursday 27 June 2024 The morning after Julian arrives in the not so lucky cuntry

Thanks to the long bearded blue oyster loving aerial ping pong administrating mate in the red desert for pointing out this interview from the grubby 7.30report. I have detested Intervention Sarah since she played her filthy role in activating the NT Inverntion into Aboriginal communities. When I returned to Australia in 2008 I never thought the 730report could get worse than when the insufferable Leigh Sayles had the Journalistis Interruptis chair. Leigh of course was a world champion of the Journalistis Interruptis form having won numerous gold medals in some drunken Canberra bar. But Intervention Sarah has taken the sport to new heights and must be in line for a berth to Macroon’s Olypmics next month. She is a living example of how low the Australian media species has descended. When the going gets bad in Australia you can always depend on someone out there to make it ‘worstest’ still (the inverted commas are to repel any deadhead saying “he can’t even spell, worstest is not a word”).
In the video here Intervention Sarah harps on about the Russian hacking of the US Democrats without caring or realising that it’s been disproven and debunked even by the US authorities themselves. All of this is drivel driven by that particular brand of faux feminism that loves Killary Klinton despite, or most probably because of, her psychopathic war mongering. If this is incisive Australian journalism all I can say is no matter the country has become so fat and dumb.
Marjorie, you don’t have to agree with everything she says, gives it right back to Intervention Sarah asking are you really a serious journalist! Priceless.

In closing – simply because I need to get on my crutches and get to the dunny – I must tell you that I have been really enjoying Gayoung and Jason Gregory’s youtube meditations on the Dao de Jing. I usually put one on after brekky and Mercouris and lay back and sometimes I admit doze off into lala land (not my niece Lala but a kind of half awake doze; as getting a good consistent and long sleep is not simple right now). I think (for what it’s worth) that to say the DDJ and Lao Tzu advises us not to get involved, discuss or have a view on, for example, politics is a slightly narrow reading of the text and its context. This kind of view is prevalent in the land of McMindfullness and its dodgy packaged ‘spirituality’. It is a kind of hyper individualistic excuse in the end to become simply an entrepreneur of the self in the ‘Society of Competition’ (that is a necessary plug for Martin Hardie’s book). Gayoung and Jason aren’t a part of that praise be to the Lord!

The context of writing the DDJ was in fact a political response to the times, Confucius and feudalism. Lao Tzu was outlining a particular way of acting in the face of that particular politics of the time. In so doing he was in fact undertaking a very political act. But in a particular way. Those who focus upon the Daoist retreat into the mountains to do nothing but sit and meditate ignore that this was itself a necessary move in the face of Confucianism’s attacks. Joseph Needham’s mammoth and highly recommended tomes ‘Science and Civilisation in China‘ are a testament to this. However, of course the DDJ operates on a number of levels, the internal arts, our relationship with nature in all its aspects and how politics and government itself should be carried out. These are all in the end ultimately political acts. Acts which the Dao advises us to do in accordance with the way of nature. Yes, the daily chitter chatter of the media and politicians today is a distraction from the real issues that face us. But the text and its teachings, on one level have to be considered a guide to how to live and act politically. It’s not simply telling us to withdraw and ignore the real and important questions facing civilisation. Like everything reading it, as Gummow J said, is all about ‘text, context and purpose’.

The Big News

Of course the biggest news (I lied about closing above) of the morning is the refereeing farce in the State of Origin game in Melbourne (Rugby League in Melbourne is a farce and blasphemy in itself but more of that another day). NSW forward Liam Martin was sin binned for rubbing a poor Queenslander’s hair, thus messing up his perm in a very unfair manner. Hair rubbing has been a part and parcel of the game for a long, long time. When an opposing player makes an error it is customary and only right that the recipient team gives him or her a nice pat on the head in congratulations. But this is the first time in the history of the planet that a player has been sent from the field for patting another on the head. What a farce indeed.

Head Patting

Good Morning

Obrigadu ba visita!

Up Up Cronulla

C’mon the Blues