She's gone

RIP 17.09.1996 - 23.03.2007

I thought that if I saw her, I could imagine her sleeping and everything would be okay. But the sting of the medical top notes in the veterinary hospital took away any doubt that the rigid corpse before me was all that remained of my dear girl. Her muzzle was furry like an unripe kiwi fruit, but it was cold and dry - unlike her at all.

I'm sorry Chi'na. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to say goodbye. I never knew that that walk was our last. Maybe if I knew, I would have let you sniff the world a little longer and let you caper about in the park unleashed for a while. I would have visited last weekend. But I didn't know, I couldn't have known. It was all so fast...

I hope that you passed without pain and I hope you knew that I loved you. Somewhere up there in the big backyard in the sky you're giving Scruffy a nip and telling him not to be so lazy. Give him a pat for me.

Some people need to stop washing their brains

My dearest cousin, who lives in Melbourne, has the rather unfortunate affliction of caring too much about motivational crap. I'm not quite sure how to tell her to wisen up to the pseudo-cults (I'm talking the Anthony Robbins, the Landmark Forums etc). Next she will be signing up to the Church of Scientology...

My trouble is this: Mabs is a lovely person - intelligent and kind and fun to be around. Pretty much the only thing about her that I don't like is her penchant for subscribing to self-help jargon. But I'm not skilled enough to tell her this without falling into the trap of denying the benefits of these forums and having her believe that I need to go to one myself. What to do?

For someone as fantastically mediocre as myself (that's a self-deprecating JOKE, you craparazzi), I have pretty high self-esteem. So... I don't need self-help. It isn't that I don't think or believe that I need self-help, I really don't need it. At all. And I really don't need people around me saying that I need it because all it tells me is that they don't think I'm doing the best I can (an insult) and/or I'm not reaching my "full potential" (a questionable concept).

I doubt very much that someone who has never met me will be able to tell whether or not I have reached my full potential. Do they even know what my full potential is? After you reach your full potential, all you have to look forward to is death. That's why we should have potentials that are so far out of reach that we spend all our lives stretching ourselves. Stretching the good stretch. And being content with that.

Now, although I am beyond this type of help, I can see how for some people this type of thing might be positive. I do get worried, however, when someone proclaims that it helps them, and yet keeps going back for more stimulation. Obviously the high doesn't last too long and the so-called empowerment needs to be taken again and again like an addiction. Which is not at all healthy.

So despite the occasional social brownout, despite the fleeting glimpse of status anxiety and the assortment of guilt I feel when I believe I'm not doing enough, most of the time I look at my life and I'm content with it. And I don't need to spend a cent on hot air.

P.S: To be honest (as this is The Magic Sitar), if these forums and seminars truly believe in the betterment of mankind, I think they should stop charging to attend. Maybe they should charge a small entrance fee to cover costs, but I think additional profit should be based on donations by happy 'graduates'. This way, even poor people can better themselves and people can stop accusing pseudo-cults of being money-grabbing. Two birds, one stone. That's a challenge.

Why I intensely dislike myspace

So, I got myself a myspace page contrary to everything I believe in. I'd been signed up previously, only because I had to retrieve an image off someone's gallery. Then, because Mae Mae is starting up a website for fans of alternative rock bands I thought to at least have some sort of profile up so I could boost her numbers.

In the process I discovered a number of things I don't like about myspace:

1. I know HTML but I have no idea how to change any of the fields except the background ie the whole process of individualising the page is not intuitive.

2. People can find you.

3. The whole point of the site is to network. I hate networking. It has never served me well.

4. People/companies/bands feel that they need to have a myspace page to validate their online existence (in addition to any websites they may already operate). Including yours truly, who has been its biggest detractor for a long time. It really is a case of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" and that is sad.

Yeah. I've sold a fragment of my soul to myspace. My life is slowly becoming Google's.

On your marks

Operation Sideways: begins tomorrow afternoon

Operation Palimpsest: has already begun

Operation satisfactorily employed: will begin next week

Operation Fanbase HQ: has already begun

OMG what am I doing?

Domestic Bliss

Slowly, over the course of my time living away from home, I have become domesticated. I've taught myself to cook, I like the hiatus that a load of laundry brings and there's something nice about the smell of the lemony vinegar cleanliness after I'm done scrubbing the bathroom. (Still can't stand ironing, though).

Furthermore, the more I learn about cooking, the more I learn about the food I eat. Healthy foods rule my thoughts when I cook, for I figure why bother spending all this time preparing and cooking when it's not doing anyone any good anyway? I resent my flatmate's addiction to pizza and 2 minute noodles. When it's her turn to cook, she submits to laziness.

This entry, however, is not about my increasing domesticity but the idea that domesticity can help relieve executive stress. I'm not saying all execs need to fire their gardeners and maids (especially if he or she can iron ten times faster than me) but perhaps stop and think about whether outsourcing help has eroded involvement in the home.

For example, if you hire a nanny to look after your kids, how much of their growing up will be influenced by their nanny as opposed to influenced by you? Similarly, if you hire someone to do your gardening, your cleaning, your laundry, your ironing, how connected do you feel to things you actually own?

It sounds weird, but every time I pluck a pair of socks from my drawer, I think about the last time I washed them and had to hunt down the other to make a pair. As much as I hate doing the ironing (because it takes me about 15 minutes to iron a shirt), I like seeing the creases steamed out of the clothes. And there's something quite satisfying about seeing all the dishes stacked in the dishrack at the end of the night instead of sprawled across the kitchen bench and knowing that I made it like that.

What's missing from an executive life (and I'm making assumptions based on the stereotypical executive) is the simple and easily achieved feeling that they've accomplished something. A typical executive has so many things in the air, so many people to manage and projects to focus on, that it takes a long time for things to end. Closure is hard to achieve. My solution: wash the dishes. The task ends in a matter of minutes. It's a methodical way to accomplish something. And to think about all those other people in the world - different races, different ages, different occupations - who are doing the same thing.

Earth Hour

Just got an email demanding that I post this up on every space available to me. Tis for a good cause and a good enough excuse for me to not post a real entry.