Wordplay, Humour, Good-Taste

Little, by little the chi, leaves me. I am out of yin and yang. Pranayama does not help me with reiki while Asana tea tastes nice if followed with chakras for dunking. Ha haha.

As you might have guessed I am taking up yoga, fitness and meditation and am slowly taking on board new vocabulary. To this end I am now replete with free ebooks and soon to pay a visit to local yogi at yogic establishments not too far from me. As far as it goes I am a work in progress and there are changes coming.

  • I am buying a fold-up bed so I can practice yoga in the living room/bedroom/study where my bed resides.
  • I am gradually changing my clothes so that I may be suitably dressed fit for yoga, fitness, and meditation.
  • I have changed my diet adding more protein, greens, and treats so that I can repair the damage to my cells done by exercise in as a pain-free way as possible.
  •  I am reading up on the subject.(both boring and interesting at the same time)
  • I am planning on spending a month getting to know yoga at my local yoga establishment. (with an introductory offer)
  • I plan to attend one weekly yoga class to start and to have a one-on-one consultation with a yogi about what my feelings are and to discuss a way forward regarding yoga, fitness, and meditation in class and in life.
  • I am approaching it with an open mind and positive attitude.

Yoga is a middle-class activity so I will engage in it in a liberal, humanistic and semi-affluent way between my usual trips to the theatre, opera and cultural activities.


In other words, I will continue to browse the internet, play computer games and read up on obscure knowledge so that one day when I meet my maker I will be suitably prepared for the great game of Pointless in the sky.

Here Goes! (Adopts Lotus Position)


Joking aside. I am going to a session, soon. (And the less fussy it is the better)

Written in the style of Lee Mack – Not Going Out. (At least that what it sounds like to me)

This is my third post today  – the Like fish are not biting today. Must be a religious fish holiday or something: Bass Monday, Pike Tuesday, Troutmas, Sild (Lent), etc.

Toadfish Deserted Me

I grew up under the Southern Hemisphere haze of Australian television soaps. Daphne and Des Paul and goings on at the ….watering hole (forgotten name) were normal pre-dinner fare for me until I moved in with my dad who had none of that stuff I recall. He had a television! But I spent all my time in an intravenous drip of Thrillers/horror/fantasy supplied by my bookworm dad. He was my hero and nothing like a bookworm jumper wearing sandal creeper that he actually was in the part creature.

So did Toadfish really desert me? Did we upon some beer laden antipodean lawyerly adventure get to the point where you couldn’t stand the sight of me so he decided to pack up and leave me at the cheap hotel we had been staying at and drive away leaving me to fend for myself? Well No. In fact, I deserted Toadfish and the whole sunny facades of Ramsey Street or Dufferville for shows like Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG 1 Star Trek Deep Space Nine etc.

Ah, the Nineties were stuffed full of sugar candy yet quasi-intelligent fantasy/horror and, of course, sci-fi. I just watched it and masturbated, a lot. Enough for a convention or three!

Funny I had given up on ‘the book’ NOT the Bible but literature as found in a mass market paperback replete with sex scenes for television replete with very attractive male and female leads. But where did the story part go? Could it be that I was as satisfied with the stories portrayed on screen as I was with those portrayed in the books I read as a teenager? No. I think perhaps I had grown out of the solitary holding a book for three hours at a time kind of scene without moving and was becoming more (insert Russian transgressive transition here) accustomed to girls, life television and everything.

But Toadfish. Oh! Toadfish. Always with a beautiful girl, A spacious well-decorated home, words of wisdom or humour depending on the situation and big enough so that any old idiot wouldn’t mess with him. And smart. lawyer Smart. What I wouldn’t give for some of that!

Love Is The Difference

Did you ever watch one of those television programs where a tv crew follows the lives of children from cradle to age 16 or so?

And there were some who grew up to be right tearaways and others who were better adjusted. And often the child from the broken home would be less well adjusted than the one raised in a nuclear family with double garage – Well it’s all bollocks.

Well for me this doesn’t answer any begging questions but it sure does pose some.

Why do Dads have it so easy when it comes to not parenting and being absent fathers?

Why do mothers have free reign (within the law) to raise their children as she sees fit?

Why does our factory society think that my working age everyone is fit and able to do the same thing – work, or to stay at home to raise a baby?

What happened to love, ever so important aged 3 and upwards but seemingly now age 16 it’s economics that takes over. Did you need that Ikea lamp? Did you want your country to go to war? Do you want to live for the rest of your life in a bedsit?

Wouldn’t you prefer for someone else to pay for it? Bien Sur, you would.

What if you had the option of living at home. Would you take it?

What if you had the option of inheriting – would you risk it for a biscuit?

What if all of your options included a two-hour commute and manual barely skilled labour as a machine operator. Wouldn’t you rather not?

Personally I think that nobody in their right mind, with no options to choose from, with the threat of a bollocking, homelessness, rubbish tip living would do anything other than turning to a life of crime. Does everyone need self-respect right?

How did Gandhi and Mother Theresa do it? They had love. They did not steal their reputations, good deeds, and services to humanity, they did well. And probably had killer intellects, but let’s not give up just yet.

What about that guy who hung around a university speaking to people and who made friends with a football manager and became their kit man and then the BBC made a film about his life! Was he not blessed with love. Are there not angels on his shoulder? Hasn’t he enjoyed fame?

And what about the sacrifices that parents make for their children.

Face it as a child and young worker you have little choice but to work unless you become a parent.

Become a parent and the world has sympathy for you. Try and be an artist and the world will pour scorn, avarice and detritus all over you until you stop and comply.

Try and think about the big picture and you will find yourself wanting. You are either too far involved or too much  outside. You might as well begin listening to Rap Music.

And love? Well, love works in the background, making everything alright. If you haven’t got a friend, there is always Jesus.

Jesus cares. He is always there. On the wall, on the cross. When people say love makes the difference they are omitting the word, Jesus.

Jesus love makes the difference.