It Doesn't Matter In What You Believe

A Polish couple have denounced their past as neo-Nazis after discovering they are Jewish.

The couple where childhood sweethearts and grew up as part of a white power gang in the Polish capital Warsaw.

The couple are featured in a documentary about Poles finding their Jewish roots after learning several years ago through the Jewish Historical Institute that both of them were technically Jews.

"It was unbelievable — it turned out that we had Jewish roots — it was a shock," they said at the time of finding out the news both were "100 percent nationalists".

"Back then we were skinheads and it was all about white power... that Jews were the biggest plague and the worst evil of this world."

Both are now members of their local orthodox synagogue.

He said while he has regrets and feels sorry for the people that he beat up, he does not "lash himself over it".

"I don't hold a grudge against myself."

From skinheads to members of their orthodox synagogue? Such an inconceivable change. It kind of goes to prove that what is important is that people have something to believe in. What it is, I think, seems to matter little, as long as there is something, probably bigger than they are, for them to place their beliefs in.

It doesn't matter what you believe in, one belief system is as good, or as valid, as the next. They all, probably, have equal truth. Whether they are the story of Jesus Christ, the history of the Absinthe Fairy,  Druid High Priest worship, or the moon god Allah, pan flutes or yukka beads, each belief system is equally valid as it is the belief that seems to be important to human beings.

There is only one golden rule after all, Treat others as you would like them to treat you, everything else is just padding.

Of course, I believe in love and the human spirit. I don't know why you need anything greater than that, but, of course, I'm in the minority with such thoughts. There is nothing greater than the here and now, a glorious day folding out before you, the marvels of the planet and the people who surround you, I think.

Jesus was probably not born at Christmas and probably never died at Easter, these were dates taken from the pagans to destroy their market share.

Now it seems that Muslims did the same thing. There seems to be the possibility that Allah was a pre- Islamic pagan deity. The hard evidence demonstrates that the god Allah was a pagan deity. In fact, he was the Moon-god who was married to the sun goddess and the stars were his daughters.

And none of this would really matter, if people took the basic message of these religions and applied it to their own lives and lived happily ever after. That's how it should work, but so often this is not the case, they so often get lost in the insignificant detail. 

I think some people are Christians by default, it's like a hereditary genetic defect. Or, would you say it's spread like child abuse, one generation fiddles with the next generation and so it goes down the line.

I think a lot of people believe in god by default. You know, parents teach heaven and hell and God, because it's an easy, no-brain way to explain difficult concepts to children. So, people are indoctrinated from a young age and a lot of those people never, really, learn to question it, never learn to change those beliefs, they never learn that it is okay to be an atheist.

That is what you are seeing now, a group of atheists who are standing up and saying it is okay not to believe in god, it's okay not to believe in this nonsense. And you know, sometimes you have to scream it out to get your point of view across. That's all it is.

I'm sure the god-botherers would have you believe it is something else, radical atheism, you know, to protect their market share, but it's not.

Now For Something Beautiful To Cheer The Mood

Getting My Blue Blanket

Oh, I thought I'd feel better today. I thought I'd take today off as an indulgence, you know, just for the hell of it, the last hurrah, just because I could, as I lay in bed listening to radio national waiting until the clock struck 9am. But no, I feel like crap. Hot, cold. Hot, cold. Headache, tired. Sweaty, like an old man's crotch. Semi blocked ears. A little dizzy, some what unsteady on my feet. Bloody hell! I'm lighting the fire and getting my blue blanket to pull over the top of me.

It's no fun being home if you really are sick. Goodness me, everybody knows that.

And oddly, I'm really hungry.

Then I went to get my muesli from the kitchen bench, where it had been soaking for a while. I picked it up, turned to come back to my computer, misjudged the kitchen doorway and the bowl smashed into the wall and my muesli tipped all down the front of my dressing gown and all over the floor.

I wanted to cry. (sad face)

I trip over going out to get wood. I bang my head on the mantel piece after I light the fire. I misjudge opening the door and bash myself in the chest. I trip on my shoe laces as I head out the front door to get lunch.

I went down to Smith Street to get a pork roll and an apple cake. Jumper, big jacket, scarf, beanie, wrapped up tight. The man standing next to me at the counter, appeared slow, simple, his bottom jaw jutted out further than his top and his nose, kind of, pushed down onto his top lip, as I gaze at him in profile. He spoke as though he had no palette, completely through his nose.

The girl behind the counter was wide-eyed at me gawking at the gimp and I turn my head.

The guy on the other side was wearing the back of his jeans low and he had two of the most luscious round arse cheeks encased in the thin cotton of his black jocks.

The same girl behind the counter brakes into a faint smile as she catches me fully checking out the other guys arse.

If I'd felt better, I may have laughed. I stare ahead until she asks me if I'm right.

As I came out of the bakery, there was a woman walking towards me with a cigarette in her mouth she was about to light. Oh ple4ase don't I thought. As I got next to her, she lit the cigarette in a cloud of smoke, then she turned and proceeded to walk in my direction, just in front of me. Oh no, I thought. I was glad that her jeans sagged making her arse look misshapen and unattractive, it seemed only fitting. The thought of the smell of that cigarette made me feel sick, so I crossed Smith Street to get away from her. And, as if instant karma for my thoughts, the next thing, she had crossed the road and was practically next to me again. Fuck it! So, I crossed back across the road. Guess what? She did too. It was like she was doing it on purpose. I was so close to standing on the footpath and screaming,

GET AWAY FROM ME!

My patience isn’t so good, when I'm not feeling so well. Fortunately, she turned off into a shop, or something. I was just plotting her death, you know, pushing her out into the traffic with a banshee scream, or something, when I looked around and she was gone. Ponder? Maybe there is a god?

There you go. I wiped my palms together, several times, slap, slap. I looked around and nodded my head. I win, real, or imagined. Filthy smokers, they should all die, you know, since I've stopped. I smiled, I felt the creases in my cheeks.

Wish Me Luck

I'm off to the doctor to get my test results. I made the appointment early, so Sam could come with me, but he went off and did it early, last week.

Did I tell you that ho-boy tested positive to chlamydia and has had to take pills and we can't have sex for a week? Grrr! Just when I was going to ravage him so completely.

He found out last Wednesday. 

"We've got to talk, the clinic has called me in."

"What?" My mind raced!

"Apparently, I tested positive..."

"What?"

"To chlamydia."

I wanted to slap him in the middle of Bourke Street. "Very funny."

"I've got to see them this afternoon," he said. "They wanted me to go in straight away."

"You okay."

"Sure."

He was horny that night, as he lay on the bed and lifted his shirt, he said,

"Don't worry, we can always get more pills."

And we did. Oh well, first day, surely the pills wouldn't have worked by then. I should tell the doctor today, I guess.

I decided to be the adult after that and we haven't had sex since, on doctor's orders. Of course, I get the pills today, so we won't be able to have sex for another week.

Sam wanted me to go in last week, he didn't want to wait another week. I've had the flu, so I haven't thought about it, but now I am. I even had Friday off, what was I thinking.

Of course, now I have to get up early on my day off. Crap. Every thing will be fine, I know that.

I Put On My Big Coat

It's a cool, quiet morning. Still.

I was awake at 7.30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. I lay there, turned this way and that, but couldn’t find my snooze again. My nose was still blocked, breathing was hard.

I thought I might as well finish off the financial work that I started yesterday, as exciting as that sounds, as I threw the doona back, reluctantly.

So, at 8am I got up.

I ground coffee beans and brewed coffee. The milk just dribbled and stopped after it covered a quarter of my cereal, damn!

Off to the supermarket at 8am. I put on my big coat... and put undies on under my tracksuit pants. (I didn't once and got all sorts of looks. I didn't think anyone would take any notice of me, undies or no undies, but they did. I learned not to do that again)

I hosed the vomit from out the front first thing, remnants of the night’s revelry. Lovely. In my state? I hoped secretly that whoever it was was suffering today. Actually, I didn’t, I just watched the chunks float away, wondering if hosing was allowed with whatever the water restrictions are now.

The street was still and serene as I walked to Woolworth's. There were car parks to spare for all those people who complain, I can never find a fucking park around here!

I’d decided what to buy before I, actually, got inside the shop, because I was thinking fat, comfort food let me tell you. I was thinking pastries, or danishes, or slices, or cakes. I could easily have had my snout in the trough, absolutely. It was a good thing, as the smell of freshly cooked donuts was pungent in the air, as soon as I walked into the place. I'm surprise, as normally when I'm sick I allow myself the freedom of whatever I want. I’m never normally sensible when I can’t breathe except after sneezing.

I was so going to go bike riding this weekend, start my summer’s exercise in anticipation of daylight savings starting next month, but because I’ve been fighting off the flu for the last few days, I feel weak and captive in the hum of my sickly body. I was even considering buying a new bike, yesterday morning, to really get into the swing of fitness.

I bought mandarins and bananas and kiwi fruit and milk. Vitamin C and potassium, good for a cold. I purved on cute Frank’s arse as I waited as he rearranged the mandarins – a nice wog boy with a goatee and a fetching smile. I was picturing him in his underpants, as he noticed me and said he was sorry and moved out of the way with a sweet smile. You don't ever have to be sorry with that tookus, I thought.

I ate the kiwi fruit walking home.

I spent the rest of the day in bed watching terrible movies. I didn't care, though, as I wanted to drift off to sleep, as I pulled the doona up to my neck and fluffed the pillow, but I didn't.

My nose dripped and my body hummed and the used tissues piled up on the floor boards next to the bed. I sipped olive leaf every three hours and drank apple cider vinegar morning and afternoon.

Oh, I have been a very bad boy. I have to go and lie down now

I Feel Like The Flu Is Taking Over My Body

I feel like the flu is taking over my body bit by bit and I don’t feel like I want to do anything. Sam sits next to me and pats me and gets me herbal tea. He leaves after midday, saying he is going to leave me on the couch. I mean, how much fun is it for him to have me saying “Er” on the couch.

I think, after he has left, that I took two Mersyndol pretty soon after waking up and I wondered if it was them that I was feeling and not the debilitating effects of the flu?

Leah sent me a request to give her three examples of when I saw her at her "best" for her Masters Degree that she is doing.

What? We have a personal relationship where “at your best” doesn’t apply, I would have thought.

Blah, blah, blah.

Oh Leah, who cares, really? More wanky rubbish to further fuel the ridiculousness of the corporate world. The further justification of the self-important elite ruling over the masses.

I have no idea, let alone not a care.

How about, all those times you drank far too much and you vomited with me holding your hair out of your eye, off your face? Or, those moments when you wanted to fuck in your mother’s bed when we were on a break from uni and your mum was at work?

I thought about my work team building afternoon tea and thought that, maybe, I wasn't the one to ask.

I lay on the couch all day, with the fire burning, under the orange blanket, all day, feeling like semi-crap. If Sam’s test hadn’t come back negative and Shane, not to mention most of his office, hadn’t had the flu this last week, I’d be feeling concerned right about now.

I flicked on the Grand Final and watch it until about half time when I fall asleep. It got exciting in the second half, apparently.

David, Shane and Leon came home in the early evening. 

David had been talking to some bisexual guy at some party he’d been to about having sex with Maggie, his housemate. The general question in the air between the two of them was should he, when some sort of mallet, hanging on the wall next to them fell and hit David in the head. David took it as a positive sign – of course, he could read a positive sign into the Third Reich for the Jews if it suited his purposes – a wake up call.

He came home here and took frozen peas from the freezer and rested them on his head. He spilled peas everywhere before I said to him, “Isn’t there an, actual, ice pack in the freezer?”

“I don’t know,” he said. Then he went off and found it.

I've been finding frozen peas all over the house ever since.

I Spent The Afternoon On The Couch

Sam and I walked to work. I bought cocktail franks and dinner rolls at the IGA in Bourke Street for our stupid team building afternoon tea. We were doing a footy theme. I was going to make a football cake, one of the R's even had a tin, but when she said it took, something like, four hours to ice, I decided I so didn't care that much.

I told the two R's that I felt like I was coming down with the flu and they both told me to go home, so, of course, I did.

Funny, they had changed the day of our morning tea a couple of times to accommodate me changing my days off for my mum. Oh, good for them, I thought, as I headed out into Bourke Street.

Shane has had the flu all week.

Sam decided he was going home too, just in case. But, as soon as he left the office he felt better. He headed home, which I was, kind of, thankful for, not really, more not wanting to make a decision. I just wanted to crawl into my cave.

I spent the afternoon on the couch watching movies feeling tired, feeling like my body was fighting off the first stages of the flu.

Sam comes over after 8pm and bought me soup. Isn't he sweet. He also brings me herbal tea that taste like sweet beef. Yuk!

Shane’s new guy, 21 year old, Leon came over and I got to meet him for the first time. He seems nice, he's little, short, cute.

We watched "The Anniversary" in our series of Bette Davis movies. Sam even suggested it, so I mustn't be boring the pants off him with them.

I Could Pretend I Wasn’t Upset About This

I took mum to, what would turn out to be, her last appointment with the Professor. He decided he could no longer see her and that her GP could look after her from now on. I guessed his job was to keep her out of a home. To tell you the truth, rightly or wrongly, I was glad as it is one less appointment I have to take her to.
Mum tried to convince him that she could go home to her own house, but he was emphatic in this not happening.
"No, it's not safe, you can't go home."

Mum was, some what, dramatic, as we walked back to the car.
“I might as well go and throw myself in the river.”
“What river? There are no rivers around here.”
“I’ll find one.”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of what she was saying. I perhaps shouldn’t have. But, really?


We drove back in silence and when we got to the home mum said,
“I’m not going to thank you.” She collected all of her belongings together in obvious anger.
“What do you mean?”
She opened the car door. “You are directly responsible for this and I never want to see you again.”
She got out and headed to the front door.

I could pretend I wasn’t upset about this, that it is just the disease, but it wouldn’t be true. I was stressed out and buzzing inside with disappointment. I decided the only thing I could do was go for a bike ride. And I did.
I decided this was the first ride of the summer with many more to come. Come on Christian, get yourself organised. You can do it.

Mark and Luke and Sam and I went to see Hairspray at the Princess. Instead of sets there was a big LED screen which filled the back of the stage. Initially, I thought this was going to be distracting, you know, like watching television, but it wasn't, I soon got used to it.

It was a great cast of singers, not a bad one amongst them, except perhaps Corny Collins.

Tevin Campbell, who plays Seaweed, can sing like a dream. What a voice.

21st Century Label For Being A Bigot

Do you think the burqa should be banned in Australia?
• 37%
No, women should have the right to wear it
• 19%
Yes, the burqa oppresses women
• 44%
Yes, for safety and security reasons

Interesting that safety and fear are the most talked about reasons. Not woman's rights, not freedom of speech, but fear. We're so conned as people now, so conditioned and trained in the, somewhat, mythical fear factor of the world that we actually believe that the world is a more dangerous place. When, in fact, the opposite is true.

But...

To be fearful as a nation is to be more easily controlled as people, is to be more obedient to the government.

Can someone explain what the safety and security reason really is? If it is the absurd reasoning of hiding explosives, what can be hidden under a burqa can just as easily be hidden under a big coat, or a rather bulky cardigan?

Isn't the safety and security reason just the nice 21st Century label for being a bigot? It's sad and an indictment on the times we live in that we can pass bigotry off as a safety issue.

It Turned Me On

I headed into the toilet cubicle right after Luke, one of the hot young accountants, came out. Sexy boy. Adorable face. Nice arse. The seat was still warm, as I sat down. 

It turned me on. Well? Gave me the slightest thrill. 😬

Is that sick? 

I Might Watch Porn

A coffee and a joint and it’s 6am. I woke up, I don’t know why. I don’t normally have trouble sleeping, it’s what I do best, as I’ve said many times before.

It’s my day off, what else are days off for? I ask you? Even if I didn’t go to my mum’s home’s owner’s sixtieth birthday party, oh spoil me, meaning that I really have to go to day. It’s why I take the days off, I remind myself. Stoned at the home, oh the pain. I’ve pulled it off before. Many times. He laughs to himself. The light is brittle at the window.

Morning television, if only you could sell it in pill form. Insomnia would be a thing of the past. Clunk goes the remote control and the screen goes black. The birds are cheeping, well how about that. I wish we had magpies though. The sound of the country morning.

Missy is on the bed purring next to me.

Don’t be a pig, repeats in my ears.

I might watch porn.

9am

My sister calls, she and my sixteen year old niece are heading off to see mum, take her out for lunch. Am I going to be there too?

Isn't it always the way. My lazy day in bed evaporates. Well, I was already feeling guilty. I could have done it, if no one had bought it up, you know.

10am.

Smoke last joint, an hour before I have to leave. Time to clean the house. It's my Monday morning ritual, well, it could be if I, actually, did it every Monday morning. I do most. Half. The intention is always there.

My sister will be a push over, she's known me all my life and is unlikely to notice any difference. She won't be looking. But, my sixteen year old niece, she's always just gunning for evidence of Christian's debauched life style. She's the one who has asked/told me I'm gay, inquisitively, on numerous occasions. I've never, actually, taken up the challenge, but some day I will. You know, I've agreed and stuff, but I've never really talked about it. She's always seemed too young up until this point. She'll notice. I better wear sunglasses.

 

Daniel liked standing naked in the afternoon sun, feeling its rays wash all over his skin. It energised him

Haze of Smoke

Sam arrived Friday, after the doctor. We've hung at home all weekend as the others partied around us. 

We head out to eat. He likes to go out, I like to get delivery.

"You are lazy," he says. 

We are trying a new eating house every time we go out, as I dared to suggest, once too often, the favourite I like going to. We went to Rice Queen, Asian influenced menu, not an Asian person in sight. It's kind of eastern suburbs kids cool. Nice. Fitzroy.

Sam’s never seen an old movie; pure twenty first century computer boy. So, we’re starting with my two favourites, Bette Davis and Paul Newman. Shane was still interstate working, house to ourselves.

We watched Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. Sam said it was creepy.

Shane arrived home from Brisbane, in the morning and went into party mode almost straight away, dropping his bags and heading straight out again to a new "contact". With his fingers crossed. 

"I hate leaving it this late, too dodgy." 

He was testing the stuff for the rest of the afternoon, in his room, pretty much. He was getting more and more wide eyed every time we saw him. Mark and Luke arrived. Guido stopped by and I got a little pot for a few joints. Don't know why, I hadn't planned to, spur of the moment. (despite this potentially being the first weekend that I haven't done it, therefore disproving Sam who says that I'm kidding myself about quitting, because I do it every weekend) But? Everyone else was going out partying. (Sad-eyed look, at Sam, as Guido puts the bag in my other hand) It was my reward for not having smoked for the last two weeks, I guess. What can I say? 

We made risotto for all the guys before they when to Beyond. Shane went out and bought the ingredients. Luke did most of it, even though I said I would. We smoked pot all night. Sam saw his first line, his first glass pipe, I should be proud. Yes babe, this is the Ben Cousin's doco. He laughed, wide eyed. He says he's never been exposed to this before. Trips and e's were consumed, with mutterings of them being crap now a days anyway.

Sam has never smoked anything until he met me. He'd never patted a cat, so it's not all bad.

They all went out with their arses hanging out. Big eyes, chewing.

We smoked pot and watched movies into the early morning hours.

A stoned 30 year old is a walking hard on. It started when we were fixing the down pipe and he was up the ladder and he dropped his pants. We fucked when we first woke up. I made coffee and I made him scrambled eggs, with the left over mushrooms from the risotto. That much of dating 101 I mastered. Various people passed through in varying stages of decrepitude, ghosts of evening past. We smoke pot with our breakfast with coffee. Sam gave me that look that said we'd be going to hell for this, then he took the joint from my hand. Shane disappears up stairs after breakfast and wasn't seen again. He picked up a 21 one year old version of Matt and was in love. Sam has this amazing effect when the pot hits him, he gets this particular coy smile and he gets as hard as a rock. I watched him pull himself off on the couch, in front of the open fire. He's hot. We smoked more pot and drifted back upstairs and he experienced his first butt-plug. Just dope, I swear.

I'm exhausted. Now I'm just waiting for Sebastian to come over and cook dinner. Captain Misery too, no doubt. He went to Beyond, if you get what I mean? I'm stoking the fire as I type. My head is spinning.

Sam left. "I'm sick of the marijuana, I'm going," doing his best mock-stern look. He looked at me with those knowing eyes. "Don't be a pig."

I'm going to have a sleep.

Pass out, fade to black.