Talking Time with Dr Manhattan

It is 2009. I am reading The Watchmen. Dr Manhattan fascinates me. He raises a point concerning the nature of time and how humans incorrectly perceive it. It takes me some time to catch on. He narrates his memories as present tense. He sees no sense in distinguishing time into a linear form of past present future. Everything happens now. Everything is happening now. My mind is attempting to enlarge itself to understand the concept. I finish the chapter. I close the book.

***

Time is simultaneous. This is the grand idea that has stuck with me ever since I read the Watchmen. It was like the pinnacle of my existentialist philosophising back in the day. You could even say it became the straw that broke the camel’s back. I have had to tuck the idea away for some time as my mind was unable to comprehend it. I hope one day to read some physics books that might shed some light but the questions that this has raised are too tough to really explain.

Steven's Last Night In Town

There used to be a time in my life where I would relish a few drinks after work on a Friday; nothing like a cool beer or 10 to wash away the worries of the week. After my diagnosis with cancer in June this year, I haven't been working and therefore haven't had the pleasure of enjoying some bourbon and cokes with my fellow colleagues, a pleasure that I don't really miss... let me tell you why.

It's got nothing to do with the people I worked with, it's not the people that I don't like, it's consuming excessive amounts of alcohol that made me feel like crap every Saturday morning and pretty much ruined the two days of the week that were "free". But this wasn't something that started in Feb 2009 when I started work, it's roots were much earlier. The earliest drunken memory I have is when I was around 15, at Janis Dunnicliff's house in Cherrybrook. Janis' house was a key part of my teenage-hood - at his awesome parties I was introduced to alcohol, the beginning of a love/hate relationship that would continue for many years to come. It must have been late 2001/early 2002 (year 9/10 in school) when one Saturday night Lee, Pedram and myself were invited over to stay the night at Janis'. Being the young rebels we were we 'borrowed' a few beers from our fridges at home and brought them along with us. We walked over to the park next to Edward Bennett Drive and drunk them, and it was awesome!

I think that was the earliest memory I have of being drunk. I just remember feeling happy, being with my friends and being happy. I also remember falling asleep that night to 2 sounds - number 1 being the song 'Tribute' by Tenacious D on the TV, and the other being Lee crying (a sound that I would hear many more times over my drunken years with him).

Then there was the time at Luke Brecht's house, late 2002 when I was 16. We had been at Jess Muirhead's party in Glenhaven, and I had brought along a 375ml bottle of whisky that I smuggled from my cupboard at home. Jess had a fridge full of those small VB bottles (throw downs), so I started in on those. When those ran out I moved on to the whisky and cokes. I think I went through half or 3/4 of the bottle of whisky, so it's fair to say I was drunk. We were picked up by Luke's mum, Julie at around 10:30 or something (I can't remember much from this point on). Back at the casa de Brecht, his brother Matt (3 years older than us) had a few mates around, and there eyes lit up when they saw two 16 year olds stumble through the door. Shots were the next drink of choice. Tequila, Chartreuse, you name it we did it. Rumour has it, that they poured me a shot with Vegemite in it and I drank it... After shots were the Corona's (always on hand at the casa de Brecht) in Luke's spa. After the spa we took our beers upstairs to warm up in the shower and then down to Luke's study to watch some porn. The absolute last thing I remember of that night was watching porn from pinkworld and rocking back and forth on Luke's chair and then yyuuuuooohaofhdifjdosoadkfojaaaaaaaaahhhh - I threw up all over the carpet, all over the curtain and all over the powerboard...

H & D

- Lee

Perception/Really Not A Very Good Blog, It Probably Means More To Me Even Though It's Still Not That Amazing, All's I'm Saying Is That It's Just Another Example Of Perception Being Played Around With.

I was reading "The Winter of Frankie Machine' and in the first 30 pages, a character by named Abe is mentioned a few times, without an explanation of who he is and what he looks like. So I had my version of Abe, but when it was explained what he looked like, it was different. I thought it was another cool example of perception in that in one fell swoop, my image of Abe was changed. And that includes my memory of him.

 - Lee

Abdullah

When I was staying at a hostel in Argentina I met this interesting guy called Abdullah. Abdullah, a heroin addict of 7 years from Dubai who had spent time living in London and Melbourne and India and eventually moved to Salvador in Brazil where he learnt to kick his heroin addiction by substituting it for crack and subsequently kicked his crack habit by substituting it for pussy, was on a holiday in Buenos Aires for a month or so. The guy was full of interesting stories from his night with a transvestite to his business of helping out struggling drug addict artists for a heavy percentage of their profits.

Anyways we got along swell but there was always one difference in our life philosophy. I was always a believer in human spirit and that love and compassion will help us grow together, while he believed that a person had to take what he could get, whenever he could to help himself. He would ask me the same question a few times during our stay together –

“If you and me were locked in a room together and there was only one sandwich that only one of us could eat, what would you do?”

He followed this question by declaring that he would kill for that sandwich and I would say that I would let the other person have it. But there is part of me that has doubts over this approach now. When you look at the history of evolution it is always survival of the fittest and natural selection, so if I’m not willing to fight for my survival isn’t that me being naturally selected to die? I guess my life philosophy isn’t compatible with living…at least not in that scenario. I mean if I’m so sure that my ideals are right and his aren’t should I let mine die off with me for the sake of his living on?

“If it came down to your life or mine I would do the stupid thing and let you keep on living” - Built To Spill

- Eden (while listening to Vienna Circus Live @ The Beach Road Hotel)

Death

Eden's blog got me thinking about death. I've often thought about it, generally I think about it after a close shave on the roads. From what I understand, a "conventional" fear of death is to be afraid of dying a violent death (getting shot, car crash etc)... or so pop culture/the innernettes tells me.

It's not a car crash I'm afraid of, it's leaving behind all those I love and how they'd feel. A fatal car crash is momentary physical pain, but your memory lingers on for decades. If you die in a way that could have been prevented, like making stupid decisions on the road, that's what I fear.

I'm not advocating living a safe life where you don't take any risks or have any adventures. That's probably worse than dying.

The idea of my mortality has impact on my daily life. It makes me happy when I'm feeling like shit at work. Recently at work we've (me and the guys on the helpdesk) have been getting worked really hard, and had some little perks taken away from us. I thought to myself, fuck this - I'm going to do whatever I like, I'll stick it to management, I'll refuse to do work that I don't believe I should be doing and I'll do what's right. In one year I wont care about anything that happen in the last two weeks at work, in five years I'll be in a different job and in eighty years I'll be dead.

Thinking about death brings you closer to how you truly feel about life.

- Dogman

Keep looking up

"And I’m there
Looking up at the sky
And I’m scared
Thinking ‘bout the way that I

I don’t understand
Anything at all
How it overtakes me
And I’m just so small
Do I stand a chance?"
 - The Flaming Lips





The other week I was on my way home from work walking from the bus stop to my building, and was listening to "It Overtakes Me" by The Flaming Lips, and just as it got to the change where Wayne sings the part that I quoted above, I tilted my head towards the night sky and looked at the Universe. A calm washed over me, I forgot about my job, my bills, something stupid I said that day; nothing mattered because I knew that nothing I do will ever matter in the grand scheme of things, that my existence on this planet is way bigger than I am… I felt good.

That was just one example of how the stars were successful in soothing my soul, but no matter how I’m feeling they always deliver. I’m not sure what it is that I subconsciously associate looking at the sky with… it may be I think about the times sitting at Canoelands on that piece of rock attached to the cottage, discussing the stars with losers; or it may be that when I look up it reminds me of all the times I’ve thought about the Universe and how it blows my mind; OR it may be that the very act of looking up at the sky and being lost in the moment is what it’s all about, and the stars physically have the same effect on me when I’m looking at them as when I’m thinking about them… who knows!

What I do know is that whenever I stop and realise that it’s a beautiful night, I make sure to look up and check out the artwork. Eden wrote an awesome blog on Wednesday 14 April 2010, entitled Life Imagery, in which he discussed among other things the beauty of a metaphor and how you can use it to seek out the “truths of life and love”. Well looking up at the sky to me is a metaphor for looking up in life; but not the conventional “you can achieve anything” crap… it’s a simple philosophy – just relax, clear your mind, love in the now, feel good.

Oh… and listen to the Flaming Lips.

- Russell

Phisopholy

“Everything is defined by what we leave behind” - Lee Sullivan

The other night Lee and I were talking some deep philosophy. Usually when this happens we both have our own trains of thought and it is rare that we can truly understand eachother. It seems as if we feel an emotion attached to an idea in our heads but any attempt to articulate it results in confusion. At least that's what happens to me.

But on this occasion we struck a nerve when the concept of existence came up, and more specifically the idea that one day we will not exist anymore. It seemed almost impossible to grasp the idea that I wont exist. To deal with anything in life we react to it, so I kept trying to put myself in a hypothetical position to react to the moment when I don’t exist. But how can I react to it if I don’t exist. It was a unique contradiction to feel so close to grasping something that is impossible to grasp.

My next step was to apply some twisted logic to the situation. The only things that exist, to me, are what I experience, but I can’t experience death cos I’m dead…so death doesn’t exist? So there should be no reason to fear it, or worry about it.

Lee took the thought further. He started discussing the legacy that we leave behind. Although our immediate conscious will not live forever, our spark, our influence will be forever carried on by the chain of cause and effect. Our existence right now is the effect of an infinite causal chain, and we are just another link in that chain.

- Eden (while listening to Lee)

Superstition

“I am a false prophet and God is a superstition” - Eli Sunday from There Will Be Blood

At Vienna Circus’ first gig in a week I am going to wear my favourite pair of underpants because a part of me believes that the new comfortable undies I got for Christmas are generally more lucky than the old red Bonds which will probably get their first holes in the next few months.

I think I am the sole cause of the Roosters losing whenever I go to watch them play. I am a curse. But then not long ago I watched them and they were losing. I was in the Sun and decided to take off my jersey to cool down. From that point on they started winning. Maybe it’s not me then…it must be my jersey!

I can’t help but think that when I am in a rush, my impatience and frustration is the thing that keeps turning every fucking green light orange just early enough to force me to stop.

But I’m not always superstitious. I don’t mind tempting fate. I don’t get sick. I will never crash my car or get caught by the police speeding. Speaking of cars though, Luke once asked me how my car was going. I said pretty good so far.

“Ooohh, you shouldn’t have said ‘so far’ man.”

I shrugged. I felt indifferent (one of my favourite emotions, I think) to the subject. I was pretty sure my words weren’t the defining factor in the fate of my car.

“It hasn’t broke down and I don’t worry about it. And if it does then I’ll worry about it.”

My mindset seemed reasonable enough until the next day when I saw smoke coming out of the bonnet and the temperature gauge climbing sheepishly upwards. Indifference couldn’t help me now. All I could think of was “Goddamn it, Luke! Did he jinx me or did he just point out that I jinxed myself?”

Maybe we just underestimate the probability of coincidence. The other night Lee and I joked about Luke’s ‘11 theory’ and how funny and frustrating it can be at the same time. Then I checked the time in mocking homage to the theory. It was 02:11…Neither us knew what to say. Maybe I’ll regret it when we all die and Luke is in 11th Heaven and Lee and I are in He11.

Or perhaps I could resort back to the Roosters for a second. Sam Perrett once had trouble under the high ball at fullback. He saw a sports psychologist who found that he would say to himself “Don’t drop it!” but all his mind heard was “Drop it!” He began saying to himself “Catch it!” and lo and behold he became the Roosters best player for the season.

Perhaps our superstitions are similar to a faith in religion, an idol, a discipline, oneself or others. A focused mind is the most potent yet we all need something to help us focus. Something solid, uncompromisable in integrity, that gives us confidence during the good times and the bad. My underpants give me the confidence of positivity. A fundamentalist Christian and a Douche bag Atheist are essentially the same thing, holding an unbreakable faith or an unbreakable lack of it. I am exponentially more creative when I meditate or do yoga regularly, yet when I stop I become a sloth, lazy and quick to disregard any criticisms or doubts over my weakened character.

If I just maintain my practice then nothing bad will ever happen to me…Touch wood.

- Eden (while listening to You In Reverse by Built To Spill)

My Quest For Minimalism

I've been affected by Hamish's article. I've decided to not just read it and think how cool that would be, but actually take it to heart.

Since I discovered Buddhism, I've felt a connection to the idea of minimalism and have had many moments to think about how I would like to start getting a bit more serious with it. I guess an irony is that through minimalism, I don't want to take as many things seriously. Because when I go on Facebook and see that there is something in my inbox or there is a notifuckation, I have a feeling (albeit a light and over time a subconscious one) of happiness that people want to talk to me. And the opposite happens when my inbox is empty. To me, that is taking something unnecessarily seriously.

When I saw Into The Wild, I felt a connection to the movie and it's message. To me, that is a film about minimalism, among other things.

When I was a kid, I thought about how much I wanted to be an adult, as I'm sure most kids do. Part of that adulthood did not involve a life filled with something like the internet and it's power to pull me in. We all know what it's like to go on the internet to look at one thing and find yourself sitting for hours looking at mindless stuff. Actually, this is more a personal thing, because most people find that looking at sites is a good way to expand your general knowledge, and if that's you, then that's right for you and your personality. But I've always been one to just be interested in a few things passionately and I don't feel a need to know much more than that. Also, it's not that the internet is a bad thing, it's obviously a great thing. But it is the amount of hours I have spent on the internet and the reasons I am there that bother me.

It all comes down to this: my music, my friends, my family and the art I experience. This is all I want. Because less crap equals more goodness. Through meditation, I am becoming more focused in my day to day life, and it is showing through how well Vienna Circus is going. I am slowly employing minimalism into my life. YES!!

- Lee

Judgement

Last year I read a book called “The Consolations of Philosophy” by Alain de Botton, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was thought provoking at every page. But one chapter, about one philosopher – Michel de Montaigne, said something that really got me thinking:

"I am a man, nothing human is foreign to me."

What this fifteenth century Frenchman said is essential to being human – empathy. When I read it, that instant my life changed. I became a less judgmental person.

Unfortunately, the world is full of people who cast harsh judgement on others, without any thought of anothers life experience. While reading about the proposed tax hike on cigarettes, which may raise prices to $20 a pack, I read some truly ignorant comments from others readers. People calling all smokers “stupid” and “ignorant”, and my favourite “It is simple maths..........if you do not want to pay the tax, give up smoking. There is nothing difficult about stopping smoking if you really want to”. Have these people ever smoked? Have they ever considered that it might not be as easy as they believe it to be? Somehow, I doubt it. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have depression, but I wouldn’t say to someone who has to just 'smile and be happy'. Humans are not so simple.

“Human understanding is marvelously enlightened by daily conversation with men, for we are, otherwise, compressed and heaped up in ourselves, and have our sight limited to the length of our own noses.”

I used to think Islam was an archaic, uncivilised religion and its followers not much better. Then I realised – I live in a Christian dominated country, Christian dominated media, everything has a bias to it. I’m sure many Muslims feel the same way about Christianity. So, they’re people too. Upon realising this, that wall crumbled.

“Everyone calls barbarity what he is not accustomed to.”

Another topic that made me think harder about myself and the way I judged others was a story on Hungry Beast about paedophiles. People just see paedophiles as 1 dimensional characters – evil creatures with only thoughts of raping children on their minds. After seeing that report on the Beast, and reflecting on it, it must be a hard life and not one which would wish upon anyone.

Sometimes I catch myself judging people, other times I don’t – but when I do I always end up realising others are just like me. Human.

- Dogman

P.S. This probably doesn’t need to be said, but those three quotes are Michel de Montaigne.

Life Imagery

I think it must have been Lee who first brought the concept to my attention some 3 years ago at a rough guess. We were driving somewhere and had stopped at some traffic lights. Lee said that he had started using his spare time to focus his mind more.

“Even whilst waiting at traffic lights, instead of allowing your impatience to engulf you, your frustration to cloud your mind, your unattainable hypotheticals to fog your thought; just take a moment to breathe and relax. You can transform your negativity by envisioning the situation as a blessing; some extra time to help bring your wandering mind back to a place of peace and tranquillity.”

It was, of course, the wise words of a man who had had his life changed through the wonders of meditation and also those of a man in constant search for an outlet for his poetic tendencies. He learned this life lesson at the meditation camp he attended, the same camp I would attend some time later. It was not the only lesson he learnt.

“Eden, my friend, I acquired such wondrous pockets of understanding at a Vipassana meditation camp. One I implore you to undertake yourself, for this is hardly a single scratch on 10000 mosquito bites itching for knowledge”

I was dubious at first bu-

“Before you doubt my imploration, I encourage you to hear more of the wisdom passed on to me from Buddha himself. Another lesson learnt is that we should seek out metaphors of the truths of life and love that are ever present in the world around us.”

Despite the pompous attitude my memory assigned to Lee circa 2007, his last piece of advice has truly stuck with me since. I have often pondered the stars as a representation of infinity, a recently fallen flower as a symbol of the tragic beauty of life and death, and I have also sought to find outlets for my own inflated sense of poetry.

My favourite metaphor in life (or for life) is that of the cardiac monitor; the machine that sits beside a patient in a hospital, beeping each time the heart beats. To me it perfectly represents the way life needs to be lived to be enjoyed. The line shooting up and down is like the ebb and flow of everyday existence, the ups and downs we each experience when we take a chance at living.

It may be a little pessimistic to think that any high is followed by a comedown but perhaps it is encouraging to see an extreme low followed by an extreme high. No pain, no gain, right? In a more perfect world we would imagine a pulse that shoots up to the heights of happiness and remains there...but then variety is the spice of life. Perspective can be a handy tool to use. You don’t even need to consider the lows as negatives, just something different.

However, the true beauty I see in the metaphor is as follows: If I were willing to forego the sublime peaks of the highs for fear of what exists at the pits of the lows then the line wouldn’t deviate from its linear progression. It would simply flat line...without a pulse.

“No alarms and no surprises” – Radiohead

Eden – (while listening to Moving Pictures by Rush)

My Quest for Minimalism

Of all the blogs I check every day, mnmlist is the one that I get the most from. As the name might suggest, minimlism is what mnmlist is about - it may sound boring or perhaps trite to some, but for me it is everything but.

For many months now I've been focusing on ridding myself of my possessions. After years of collecting 'stuff' that I considered to be important - stuff that I might need one day or stuff that is just sentimental, I needed change. All this stuff cluttered up my living space which in turn cluttered up my mind. I began by just throwing out a bunch of old shit that I hadn't used in years (old documents, strange trinkets, general crap), with only a few exception, like books, dvds and clothes I thought I might need.

I’m now at a point where what I do have left feels like clutter. So I'm planning on getting my clothes down to the bare essentials, eventually just one drawer. I'm planning on culling my dvd collection back to just the dvds that I actually watch on a regular basis (like my favourite documentaries etc). Eventually I'll have no books, if I need a book I'll borrow it from a library (or buy it then donate to a library).

Clearing my life of material clutter is the first step I've decided to take on the minimalist path, beyond this there are many other things I will do, what they are I'm not even entirely sure. I am sure that it will be never ending. Perhaps one day I’ll be like Gandhi.

To some people this might all sound a bit silly, but after I started to do this, I began to discover the essence behind it all - the truly important things in this world are not material at all.

I’d like to end by mentioning some people who have inspired me with their ways. Firstly, Jason only having 4 t-shirts. I still have about 10 or 12 shirts (down from about 40), Jason survives with only 4 shirts and he always looks pretty good to me. I hope to cut my collection down to single digits, only a select few shirts that I really like and actually wear regularly. Secondly, Lee being a vegetarian. This is something I will eventually get around to me thinks, and Lee doing it is cool because … he did it. And lastly, Eden. He is in general a frugal person. I take a lot from him and his ways, from his cold showering to his ability to not give into temptation as easily as me.

- Dogman

My Story (god, that sounds so much more pretentious than I was intending)

Starting at the age of thirteen, I was caught up in some heavy mind-fucking shit. This continued almost every day until only a few years ago. The best way to describe it is a mix of an OCD mentality and an extreme existential crisis... having to be dealt with by a young teenager without the ability or life experience necessary to cope with such problems. My worries stemmed from the fragility of life and having to grasp everything that came with that realisation.

I was thirteen, living in America at the time, and in between the end of the American school year and the beginning of the Australian one, was on an extended four month school holidays before coming back home. I was always pretty fragile as a younger child, with a proclivity to say sorry more than the average kid. It sounds like a good quality, but when 'sorry' isn't necessary, you only worry yourself and bug others. So when I started worrying about things a little more at thirteen, I didn't really see the writing on the wall. But when I found myself needing to tap my fingers the same amount of times on each hand, I instantly knew something was wrong and I remember not liking it at all. And from there it grew, and fast. I was now spending more days by myself than ever before, and this is when I started to have a sense of guilt about some things. I was soon spending everyday, from the time I woke up to the time I went back to bed, studying every thought, even the thoughts of the thoughts. I didn't want this, but it was starting to become uncontrollable. I had impulses in the form of voices telling me to do something I didn't want to do, and in turn I would feel guilty for even thinking it. I did think for a while that it was the devil's voice. Having a conversation with my parents was unbearable for both parties, as I would end up not being able to listen or concentrate on things being said and when I did, I would feel irrationally guilty for whatever it is I said or thought. None of these conversations would ever end up being a shouting match or anything aggressive, but I do remember my dad getting justifiably frustrated often and wondering why his son was such a wimp. I remember a conversation with my mum in which she said that they might have to take me to a mental institution. We actually had a name for all this, 'The Guilty Feeling'. That term would be used all the time over the next year.

Towards the end of my time in America, I had a thought. Needless to say, it was a very convoluted one, but it can be summed up: If I can't feel what I felt in the past, then what was the point of doing it. And if what I'm doing right now will become the past, then why am I doing this.

This single thought is what drove me to depression. Let's call this thought 'The Thing'. Whenever I thought of 'The Thing', I saw everything around me as almost non-existent and pretty much life itself as a black hole. I learned pretty soon to avoid the thought when it arose.

On the plane back to Australia, I was excited. But when we arrived and flew over Sydney, I couldn't enjoy it. I looked out the window and heard a voice in my head that said, "what's so special about this place, it's just a piece of land attached to the other piece of land I was on a few hours ago." It's like I was determined to sabotage any happiness I could have...

Once I was back in school, I had enough distractions that I only thought about 'The Thing' a few times a day. And then once a day. And then once a week. Until finally, it would pop into my head once every few months, where I would literally clench my teeth and wait for it to leave.

I felt as if I knew a secret but I didn't want to tell anybody because if they knew, they would feel what I felt and I didn't wish that on anyone. I had a vivid image in my head of myself standing at a podium, telling a crowd of millions about 'The Thing', and I genuinely thought that if that if that were to happen, there would be chaos.

By year 12, 'The Guilty Feeling' and 'The Thing' had mostly eased up, but if you ever saw me drunk back then you could tell that something was under the surface and it didn't take much more than a few beers to get it out. The more often I got drunk, the more often I had to face the fact that I didn't really see much point in living. I knew as soon as I started thinking of suicide that it was the wrong idea, but just like only a few years earlier, I didn't really have much control over my mind.

People talk about being a born again Christian and the day that they were saved. Well, if Buddhism is a religion then I was saved by a man named Dr Barry Davie. He is our family doctor, but also a family friend and an amazing person. I sat in his office in July of 2006 and told him everything. He listened with understanding and told me about a place where you can go and meditate with Buddhists for ten days. Let me remind you this is a doctor telling me this! I walked in to his office prepared to be sent to a specialist that deals with depression, not to sit in a room for ten days and not talk to anyone. After hearing Dr Davie's reasons for why I should go, I said I would, and a month later I was practicing Vipassana meditation for ten days in the Blue Mountains. On day six, I was meditating in my room and had the key moment that changed me, and since then, I've had many more and I hope they never stop arriving. Those ten days definitely changed my life and my attitude towards it.

Since then I have lead a pretty awesome life, meeting Helly, reforming Vienna Circus, and finding some amazing friends. I also find humor in more things than I ever have, and that to me may be the most important thing to come out of this, as it affects everything and everyone else. I can have some downer days too, but they're few and far between. I don't have 'The Guilty Feeling' at all anymore and when it comes to 'The Thing', I can stare at it straight in the face without fear or pain. In fact, there's an irony there, because when I was at the meditation camp, one of the wonderful things I realised was that if I can't feel what I felt in the past, then what was the point of worrying about it. And if what I'm doing right now will become the past, then why am I worrying about this. Remind you of something?

Turns out the thing I was in a funk about was the same thing that got me out of it.

 - Lee

Music and Memory

Clair de lune, by Claude Debussy:



Claire de lune simply is a beautiful song, I adore it. It's impact is strengthened by the lifetime of association I have with it. My late Grandmother used to play it (she was an accomplished pianist and singer) and I used to hear it a lot in general, whether it was my Mum playing it on CD or just hearing on the radio. I heard the song a few months back for the first time in a year or so and was taken by how beautiful it is, then when I watched that video I was truly lost and fighting back tears. When I hear this song I think of my Grandmother and my Mother. Claire de lune is the most beautful song I've ever heard.

This leads me to music and how it can take you back to the past. When I listen to System of a Down I think about many things - HELD was in its adolesent prime, and Smash Bros Melee was all the rage, and apparently jew fros were too. SOAD doesn't just bring back one specific memory, but memories of a time, of a period of my life - and that is very powerful.

What songs take you back?

- Dogman

Patience

When I first listened to Kanye West’s third album Graduation I was a big Kanye fan. However, I wasn’t immediately impressed by what I heard. But my disposition towards Kanye’s work at the time caused me to be more patient. I gave it a few more spins and eventually found myself enjoying it. This state of mind was also fairly brief as not long after that I realised that I hadn’t listened to it for some time and didn’t plan on listening to it ever again.

When I first listened to Keep It Like A Secret by Built To Spill I was completely unfamiliar with them and it was only by Lee’s reference that I gave them a chance. I wasn’t immediately impressed by what I heard. But Lee is usually pretty accurate with his recommendations, which caused me to be a little more patient. I gave it a few more spins and eventually found myself enjoying it. This state of mind was also quite brief though because I then found myself obsessing over it, craving more listens. The honeymoon period died off and I realised I hadn’t listened to it for some time, so I put it on again; loved it again; discovered new intricate sounds and gained a greater appreciation for tracks that I used to consider weaker. To this day I truly love this album.

- Eden (while listening to Keep It Like A Secret – Built To Spill)

High School

As much as being a high school kid was awesome, it was equally as shitty. The first thing that comes to my mind is how much stock I'd put in what other people thought. I'm positive there were people out there who were a lot more vain that I was, but still wanted to be cool as much as the next guy. I don't think I succeeded though. This brings to mind when I was growing my hair really long like Eden. It became such a part of who I believed I was and how I thought I was perceived, that when the time came to cut it (Year 10 formal I think), it scared me. Turns out after I had it cut (really short), I felt better... and no one cared. Really it was a burden to have the hair, at first I was doing it for me, then for everyone but me.

Something I find quite funny is perception of time and work load. I used to think that going to school from 9-3 was such a looooong day. After having worked 8 and 1/2 hour days, sometimes much longer, sometimes with little to no break, you wonder what on earth you where complaining about! Looking back at how little work you were actually required to do and how easy some of it was is kind of funny to me. Though to be fair, it wasn't that easy at the time. Like everything, relativity comes into play.

Bullying and teasing is pretty shitty too. For a couple of years I got called ‘Red Nuts’ quite frequently (for obvious reasons), I think I put on a pretty brave face at school but at times it broke me after school when it was only Mum around. Not only did I get bullied, I was a bully*. I’ll always feel bad about the time I teased Lee for a whole lunch time (40 minutes!). I was also the first person, in conjunction with Lee Brown to tease him on his first day at Penno. In fact, Lee Brown was one of the kids who teased me about having red pubes in Yr 7 (he and I became friends in Yr 8), make of that what you will.

But great things come out of high school. The best thing for me is Brooke. In amongst all the childish judgement and teasing I found acceptance, understanding and love! Turns out school wasn’t so bad at all, in fact I often think I would be cool to go back.

- Dogman

* To be honest, I wasn't bullied. No one really picked on me over and over and over. Bully is just an 'easy' word to use in this instance.

Make Love Not War

"Look at me. I'm fat, black, can't dance, and I have two gay fathers. People have been messing with me my whole life. I learned a long time ago there's no sense getting all riled up every time a bunch of idiots give you a hard time. In the end, the universe tends to unfold as it should. Plus I have a really large penis. That keeps me happy."
- Tarik from Harold & Kumar Go to Whitecastle

Last night I experienced the ignorance of misguided youth... let me explain. After an evening of drinking and frivolities in the city, Anna and I were enjoying a coffee at 4am to cap off what was a splendid night. We were sitting at the corner of Liverpool and George, minding our own business, when a drunk dude sitting at the table next to us started to sling obscenities in my direction (unprovoked mind you). As they were non-personal to me per se, I shrugged it off as unimportant and ignored him. But sure enough he continued.

As the countless insults increased, I tried to defuse the situation by first reasoning with the colprit to cease and desist with his rude behaviour, and after this failed attempt at peace, I kindly asked his friend what was wrong with his boy. I knew that if I retaliated with remarks and curses of my own that it would make the matter worse, however I couldn't help myself, this guy was really obnoxious. "Hey mate, why don't you fuck off!", I quipped, hoping that he would get slightly afraid of my larger size and stop the tirade... he didn't.

He stood up and walked around the corner to where his mate was sitting and filled him in, I suspect, that I was trying to "start" something. I thought that the first drunk guy was bad, but boy was I sadly mistaken. A pimply 19-20 year old with a silver chain dangling around his neck strolled up to our table - "Why are you trying to start my mates?!", he demanded. I explained the situation in a cool, calm and collected manner but it didn't matter. After noticing that I wasn't going to snap as I suspect most people in my situation would, he changed his mood. "Hey - can you roll me one of those cigarettes honey?", he asked of Anna in a somewhat charming way. "Umm, no", replied Anna, rightfully so.

Before I continue with the story, at this stage of our encounter with the three amigos, both Anna and I were getting really heated. Drunk guy number 2 was surprisingly good at insulting us, some really original off-the-cuff material if I do say so myself. So what happened next didn't help our tempers - with my back to them I felt a warm, slimy projectile hit my arm. I looked down to find a large wad of mucus trickling down my skin. Drunk guy number 1 had spat on me - the ultimate insult.

I'm wondering what was going through his head when he did this (probably not much considering he himself was running on drunken fury), but in any case they must of expected me to stand up and continue to play their game. Considering I'm on the journey for peace they caught a lucky break, because the way that I was feeling I felt like standing up, placing my hand around his stupid neck and driving his body to the ground in a UFC style takedown - probably cracking his empty skull on the steely sidewalk. But I didn't - in my zen-like manner I reached for a napkin and wiped away the phlegm that was now solidifying on my skin.

I was thinking to myself on the way home that night of how I would've taken such pleasure in really hurting those guys. Sure they would've got a few punches in but boy they would know my fury - or would they? They did everything they could to try and get me to fight them but I didn't. Is that playing on their minds today? Will my act of peace and love lead them to not lash out at every man, woman and child they see enjoying themselves? Maybe.

Part of me feels sorry for guys like that. I wish they could feel the love and compassion that I feel for every single person that I haven't yet met, and even the ones that I have. I know that they aren't going to change much though - after all they did claim to be a part of some "Bronx" gang that they were going to call to come and hurt me for so rudely sitting next to them at a cafe. Being in a gang is a different story I realise, being tough is a part of the rules. These guys weren't in a gang though, they were cowards. The true warrior doesn't need to accost strangers on the street by spitting on them and threatening to stab them. The true warrior maintains peace until force becomes absolutely necessary. In last nights case, I didn't need to use force, and they walked away with their tails between their legs - all fired up on fight juice looking for some poor soul to dance with the devil.

To quote The Art of War by Sun Tzu:

"Therefore one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the most skillful. Seizing the enemy without fighting is the most skillful."

- Russell

Timeless Mind

The day Brooke turned 23 we were in the car with her parents and brother. Her brother asked how it felt to be 23, she said it was the same as 22. Someone then asked Brooke's dad how it felt to be nearly 60, he said the same as when he was 23.

My mind is timeless, but my body is mortal. The difference between the ageing of the mind and body are opposite in a way - while your body will slowly deteriorate, your mind will gain more knowledge, become wiser. Perhaps this is why you never feel as old as you truly are, because your mind doesn't actually have an age.

Right now I feel younger than I am. I feel like a child in a grown-ups world. Perhaps I won't ever grow out of this feeling. Maybe I'll be a 20-something for the rest of my life. I hope so.

- Dogman

Change

I remember being ten years old and seeing basketball as the greatest thing in the world. I loved playing it, I love talking about it, I loved thinking about it. I collected cards and would stare at them for minutes at a time. Flicking through the pages of my folders and marveling at the superhuman shots that were captured just for me. Space Jam came out that year, and it's amazing how much I remember of that movie. It feels like almost every scene was etched into my brain the moment it came onto the screen in front of me. That movie, along with Tim Burton's Batman, is the movie of my childhood. But Batman came before, and in a sense I had actually grown out of Batman by the time I was ten. Well, at least out of seeing it as the big kahuna. You see, I remember being seven years old and seeing Batman as the greatest thing in the world. I loved playing it, I love talking about it, I loved thinking about it. But I guess I changed, without much fanfare, to being a basketball fanatic. But there was a moment, during my love of basketball, when I was standing in my room staring at my basketball posters and a thought came into my head. What if one day I stopped loving basketball and moved onto something else. I became scared, because if I started to fall in love with something else, then I wouldn't love basketball anymore.

But I love basketball!

I don't want to lose it!

And just then, as my feeble child brain was worrying about losing the thing that I loved, I realized something: If there comes a moment where my love for basketball ever dies, I won't be sad at that moment, because I won't love it anymore. So I must love until I don't love anymore. And I can't control how long that is.

A few months had passed and I'm sitting on my couch watching wrestling, marveling at the superhuman moves that were captured just for me. I hadn't thought about basketball in months. I didn't miss it. I had changed and I couldn't deny it. Most of all, I didn't want to deny it, because my new love was so much fun.

The lesson I learned was that if we force or deny change, it will hurt us both short term and long term. And when we feel ourselves changing, it will only be natural.

- Lee