Friday, September 18, 2009

Selling Out is Dirty.

I'm sick and tired of everyone accusing everyone of being a sell out. It's an insult that just does not work for most people given that title. A lot of the people who yell out the two words sell and out are often jealous of other peoples success and have to undermine the things people do. Trawling the internet I've found a definition of what sell out means.

One who betrays a cause for personal advancement.

Sounds pretty simple but then how does this apply to an athlete who moves from one team to another. Here is a guide. Athlete number one has gone on record as saying "I love this city and I will not leave here for any price." Even though he shows his love of his home town the fans really don't like him. A few months later he is given an offer to move to another city. For the sake of this example he is given two million for the move. Now athlete number two has always proclaimed "I love this sport and thank the lord every day for the chance to play." He is big with the fans. One day he is given the chance to move to another team for ten million. Now out of these two who is the sell out?

While I wait for the answer please enjoy this random picture.

If you guess athlete number one then you are absolutely right. He took money and went against something that meant a lot to him. But here is the bonus round. Who do you think would be more likely to be called a sell out? If you guessed athlete number two then you would be in the money and probably being called a sell out.

Anyway that's just a little rant. If anyone does read this I would ask you to take the time and reflect. I've used this term before and I really wish I hadn't as the target didn't deserve it. I hang my head in shame. But if you really really want someone to blame for the fortune of others than I have a suggestion which I will communicate through picture.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Something Different (Warning Some Language)

I thought I would go back a little to my university days. See back then I was an angry angry young man and in some respects I'm probably still angry and young but the difference was I wrote for the university magazine. Week after week I tried to get some discussion going in my column but really all for naught as most university students were drinking themselves stupid. At one point I just really stopped caring and got some pretty weird stuff put to print. This next piece is a favorite of mine and I just wanted it put out there into the cyber world.

The Play

The smell of brimstone and the sense of fire.
Come all sinners now drawn by the playing of a lyre.
The show awaits your fragile sensibilities.
Imagination is sparked by the myriad possibilities.
Sit and be quiet for the curtains now draw.
And if you learn noting least you remember what you saw.

Curtains red like the crimson bled open to the stage. A lone woman lies still not taking in breath. A man stands above knife in hand face full of anger white knuckles clenched.

To take the life of one who could be called mother.
Is to destroy the chance of making a precious other.
Yes still we animals us noble men.
Role in our shit like pig in pen.
Call upon laws to make ourselves gods.
Yet we are nothing more than foolish clods.
Raise a fist in anger and yell till we are spent.
One day mother shall call and her rage shall vent.

Curtains close and change to blue and once again open true. The scene again set, a human dressed in a suit and pulled by strings, living puppet it sings and dances and if called to it merrily prances. Now it spouts and rants of things not of its mind.

See the puppet pulled by another master.
Through its words it changes the world that much faster.
Told to push the button flashing bright.
Told to stay while masters take flight.
We are left with an empty shell.
Guided by its words and sent to hell.
Nodding along to the puppets beat.
Puppets of the puppet we are nothing by meat.

As dependable as a good friend the curtain closes and it seems as if the show has end. But once again the colour changes to that of green but it can be seen it is not fresh as the forest but as grimy as a sewer. It opens to a scene, a pale man arms out stretched needles dug in his arm. Chained to the wall behind he yearns to be free as one lone pill lies before him a cure to his ills.

One trapped in his own prison made from addiction.
One looked down upon by those of station.
But a drug is not a drug when it is only a cure.
Makers and creators have set that lure.
When one is sick or ill they should get better or die.
But doctors sell drugs to only get you by.
There is no money in the cure of those smited.
So drain the poor those who become blighted.

The curtains close and nothing stirs.

I plead you all rest for this is an intermission.
A lesson to be learnt for those who listen.
Much to your dismay I shall be back.
Of course if you bitch and complain I may get the sack.
So to those who do not like what I have said.

So there you have it. I think each little part was related to an issue happening in Australia but for the life of me I can't remember. To steal something from the Dark Tower "the world moved on." I think the end was stupid mainly as it does not work but at the time I was just pissed off at people. I honestly wanted someone to complain just so maybe we could get some discussion happening on topics. Now I realize that causing anger does not lead to discussion but hell I wanted some reaction not just apathy. Anyway there it is may it float on the internet ever more.