Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Dropping some truth bombs, Thanks Jake
You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity
by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity.
What one person receives without working for,
another person must work for without receiving.
The government cannot give to anybody anything
that the government does not first take from somebody else.
When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work
because the other half is going to take care of them,
and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work
because somebody else is going to get what they work for.
That my dear friend,
is the beginning of the end of any nation.
You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it
by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity.
What one person receives without working for,
another person must work for without receiving.
The government cannot give to anybody anything
that the government does not first take from somebody else.
When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work
because the other half is going to take care of them,
and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work
because somebody else is going to get what they work for.
That my dear friend,
is the beginning of the end of any nation.
You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it
Saturday, June 26, 2010
something clever
I have an idea for an ongoing story that I think may work. It is based on two brothers, Miguel and Jorge. I even have the first episode/chapter/part figured out. It goes like this...
Miguel and Jorge made their way to the paddock where the ranchers kept their cattle because it was a place far from trees and power poles and the last thing they wanted was to have their kites, which they had worked so hard making all day, to be caught mid flight. Their kites were simple. A diamond shape made by eight pieces of cane and newspaper for a sail. The string was some of the left over knitting wool their mother used to knit goods that would be sold to passer-bys. The wool was surprising light and strong which made it ideal for kite flying.
So there they were, two brothers, jogging along the dirt road made by the occasional passing vehicle. These were truly the two happiest boys in the world.
To their delight there were few cows in the field. this meant that they could safely jump into the paddock and fly their kites among the cattle scattered about. Up both kites went in the air. Flying higher and higher until it seemed that they were looking down on the birds up in the air. Miguel said to Jorge, "lets see who's kite can fly the highest"
"lets" said Jorge.
Higher and higher both kites went, both brothers cheered and laughed. What joy, what wonder, what amazement, what genius.
Then all of a sudden the wind dropped. Jorge pulled hard on his kite using every inch of strength to try to keep the kite from falling. Jorge ran back and forth in the field using every last bit of his energy. Up he ran, down he ran, he pulled tight on his string and swoosh!...up went the kite again. Miguel could only look with envy at Jorge's energy. His kite descended slowly like an autumn leaf falling off a tree gently to the ground. But his kite did not hit the ground. No, it hit a bull smack in the head.
The bull was not happy with this, he jerked his head and tore the kite with his horns. Then as the kite fell to the ground beneath the beasts hoofs it trampled it and finished it off.
Miguel was not happy. He was angry...No he was FURIOUS! All day Miguel had spent with his younger brother making his precious kite and he was not going to just stand and watch as this bull made mince out of his precious kite.
Jorge had brought his kite back to earth and was standing next to Miguel looking at the bull destroying Miguel's kite. Tears were running down Miguel's cheeks from the anger he felt. Jorge jumped in and said "lets teach this bull a lesson". Jorge picked up a dirt rock, you know the ones, they look like rocks made of reddish brown dirt that crack on impact. Jorge threw it at the bull.
"This is what you get for wrecking my brother's kite" he yelled
Miguel picked up a handful of rocks and began to throw them at the bull. Jorge continued too.
At first the bull did not even bat an eye but soon the rocks began to get annoying. The bull huffed and kicked its hoofs. This only made the brothers more excited and they threw the biggest rocks they could. This was not a good idea.
The bull, by now fed up at the tirade of dirt being thrown at him turned towards the brothers and charged...
"RUN!!!" they both yelled.
They sprinted towards the part of the fence they had climbed over to get into the field. Both boys used every little ounce of energy to try to beat the bull to it. Jorge, being the younger and more svelte of the two, threw himself to the ground and rolled under the barbed wire fence. Miguel was not as svelte and, if my memory serves me right, was a little on the round side. There was no way Miguel was going to make it under the fence. His only option was over...however Miguel was not very athletic either. So as Miguel used all the adrenaline in his body he could only muster enough momentum and energy to get caught on his belly.
All the bull could now see, as it charged towards the fence, was Miguel's bright red shorts staring it straight down the line. The bull smacked Miguel right in the middle of his rear and Miguel went flying over the fence, his shirt and belly torn by the fence.
Jorge could not contain his laughter. He laughed so hard he almost wet himself. Miguel found none of this funny. He picked himself up and started walking home. Jorge followed behind, still in hysterics.
THE END
Miguel and Jorge made their way to the paddock where the ranchers kept their cattle because it was a place far from trees and power poles and the last thing they wanted was to have their kites, which they had worked so hard making all day, to be caught mid flight. Their kites were simple. A diamond shape made by eight pieces of cane and newspaper for a sail. The string was some of the left over knitting wool their mother used to knit goods that would be sold to passer-bys. The wool was surprising light and strong which made it ideal for kite flying.
So there they were, two brothers, jogging along the dirt road made by the occasional passing vehicle. These were truly the two happiest boys in the world.
To their delight there were few cows in the field. this meant that they could safely jump into the paddock and fly their kites among the cattle scattered about. Up both kites went in the air. Flying higher and higher until it seemed that they were looking down on the birds up in the air. Miguel said to Jorge, "lets see who's kite can fly the highest"
"lets" said Jorge.
Higher and higher both kites went, both brothers cheered and laughed. What joy, what wonder, what amazement, what genius.
Then all of a sudden the wind dropped. Jorge pulled hard on his kite using every inch of strength to try to keep the kite from falling. Jorge ran back and forth in the field using every last bit of his energy. Up he ran, down he ran, he pulled tight on his string and swoosh!...up went the kite again. Miguel could only look with envy at Jorge's energy. His kite descended slowly like an autumn leaf falling off a tree gently to the ground. But his kite did not hit the ground. No, it hit a bull smack in the head.
The bull was not happy with this, he jerked his head and tore the kite with his horns. Then as the kite fell to the ground beneath the beasts hoofs it trampled it and finished it off.
Miguel was not happy. He was angry...No he was FURIOUS! All day Miguel had spent with his younger brother making his precious kite and he was not going to just stand and watch as this bull made mince out of his precious kite.
Jorge had brought his kite back to earth and was standing next to Miguel looking at the bull destroying Miguel's kite. Tears were running down Miguel's cheeks from the anger he felt. Jorge jumped in and said "lets teach this bull a lesson". Jorge picked up a dirt rock, you know the ones, they look like rocks made of reddish brown dirt that crack on impact. Jorge threw it at the bull.
"This is what you get for wrecking my brother's kite" he yelled
Miguel picked up a handful of rocks and began to throw them at the bull. Jorge continued too.
At first the bull did not even bat an eye but soon the rocks began to get annoying. The bull huffed and kicked its hoofs. This only made the brothers more excited and they threw the biggest rocks they could. This was not a good idea.
The bull, by now fed up at the tirade of dirt being thrown at him turned towards the brothers and charged...
"RUN!!!" they both yelled.
They sprinted towards the part of the fence they had climbed over to get into the field. Both boys used every little ounce of energy to try to beat the bull to it. Jorge, being the younger and more svelte of the two, threw himself to the ground and rolled under the barbed wire fence. Miguel was not as svelte and, if my memory serves me right, was a little on the round side. There was no way Miguel was going to make it under the fence. His only option was over...however Miguel was not very athletic either. So as Miguel used all the adrenaline in his body he could only muster enough momentum and energy to get caught on his belly.
All the bull could now see, as it charged towards the fence, was Miguel's bright red shorts staring it straight down the line. The bull smacked Miguel right in the middle of his rear and Miguel went flying over the fence, his shirt and belly torn by the fence.
Jorge could not contain his laughter. He laughed so hard he almost wet himself. Miguel found none of this funny. He picked himself up and started walking home. Jorge followed behind, still in hysterics.
THE END
Saturday, May 15, 2010
realsation
this is where we're heading. Watching hairspray has made me realise a dangerous path that modern australian society is heading. In the movie a young girl fights for what she considers an injustice in that certain members of society are being excluded from the mainstream. Here in this film blacks want 'intergration'. What an amazing concept, intergration of the massess to allow for a cohesive society. Australia take note
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Hollywood
Now in my experience there is many ways in which you can make money on the streets. A few examples are prostitution, drug dealing, hot-dog stand and of course busking. So it was with much delight that I made my way to Hollywood to see what was on offer in regards to capitalism on the streets.
I had heard that if you want to make it in show business you have to make your way to Los Angeles and in particular to Hollywood as it is a type of Mecca for the performing arts. I wasn't the least surprised to see movies being filmed, beautiful people walking the streets and a Louis Vuiton store open to the public and filled with asian tourists. There were cameras, lights and wax sculptures and of course street performers.
So this brings me to the art of making money. In Hollywood you can make money on the streets by dressing up as a famous movie character and charging people to have a photo taken with you. It was amazing to me to see all these impersonators being "tipped" 1 US Dollar for the privilege of being filmed. Wow...why didn't I think of that. Go into town dressed like Kylie and charge people one buck per pic. I'm telling you that the bloke dressed as Bumblebee was making a killing and he looked good too, and to my 4 year old son he was just the right height. If he had transformed into a Charger my son could have easily driven of with him. So there we have it, more ways to make money on the street. And I look forward to seeing Wolverine and Tinkerbell in melbourne soon...apparently they are saving to bring their Photo ops to a town near you
I had heard that if you want to make it in show business you have to make your way to Los Angeles and in particular to Hollywood as it is a type of Mecca for the performing arts. I wasn't the least surprised to see movies being filmed, beautiful people walking the streets and a Louis Vuiton store open to the public and filled with asian tourists. There were cameras, lights and wax sculptures and of course street performers.
So this brings me to the art of making money. In Hollywood you can make money on the streets by dressing up as a famous movie character and charging people to have a photo taken with you. It was amazing to me to see all these impersonators being "tipped" 1 US Dollar for the privilege of being filmed. Wow...why didn't I think of that. Go into town dressed like Kylie and charge people one buck per pic. I'm telling you that the bloke dressed as Bumblebee was making a killing and he looked good too, and to my 4 year old son he was just the right height. If he had transformed into a Charger my son could have easily driven of with him. So there we have it, more ways to make money on the street. And I look forward to seeing Wolverine and Tinkerbell in melbourne soon...apparently they are saving to bring their Photo ops to a town near you
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Busking in Melbourne 20th March 2010
There we were making our way to Southbank on a warmish kinda night. The grass was wetter than usual, maybe because the state government had recently announced that water restrictions were being lifted from 3A to just 3, making our shoes sink as we walked through the grass towards St Kilda Road right in front of the art gallery. Unlike most other nights there were no emos sitting underneath the tree palms on the little hill, I assume emos are allergic to water and did not want to get their platform Doc Martens wet on the soggy grass.
One thing that there were plenty of, though, were yuppies coming out of the National Gallery from the latest offering from Melbourne's artistic scene. Needless to say we weren't feeling too comfortable or confident. Things looked too good to be true and it seemed we were once again at the mercy of what the City would throw up, and that meant a date with Mr Recorder.
We made our way down the stairs towards the underpass of the Swanston Bridge. As usual the Saxophonist with the backing track (cheat) was doing his usual business. We always drop a few coins in his case as Karma, like JT said "what goes around comes around".
The Southbank boardwalk was unusually busy for this time of night. We had deliberately come a little later than usual to hopefully find our spot vacant.
We knew we were in trouble when we didn't see the Recorder Guy standing in our spot.
In his place was a young Filipino guy who appeared to have Down Syndrome. He sat just outside the glass doors of the building where we usually set up. He wore a blue track suit in the manner of a gangster rapper. And although this guy looked totally pityfull he knew exactly what he was doing, even though no one could understand a word he was saying, let alone singing. He had his headphones plugged into a boom box, obviously to feed the music to his ears, and a microphone to amplify his voice...Why? I don't know...its not like he was any good, hell, he got more hecklers than fans, but they put money in his cloth like crazy. I looked at my brother and said "We can't compete with this". A security guard must have overheard me and yelled out "maybe you should make him your lead singer". Well 3 hours, 40 dollars, and floating body later I thought "maybe we should". He made $250 in the same time.
One thing that there were plenty of, though, were yuppies coming out of the National Gallery from the latest offering from Melbourne's artistic scene. Needless to say we weren't feeling too comfortable or confident. Things looked too good to be true and it seemed we were once again at the mercy of what the City would throw up, and that meant a date with Mr Recorder.
We made our way down the stairs towards the underpass of the Swanston Bridge. As usual the Saxophonist with the backing track (cheat) was doing his usual business. We always drop a few coins in his case as Karma, like JT said "what goes around comes around".
The Southbank boardwalk was unusually busy for this time of night. We had deliberately come a little later than usual to hopefully find our spot vacant.
We knew we were in trouble when we didn't see the Recorder Guy standing in our spot.
In his place was a young Filipino guy who appeared to have Down Syndrome. He sat just outside the glass doors of the building where we usually set up. He wore a blue track suit in the manner of a gangster rapper. And although this guy looked totally pityfull he knew exactly what he was doing, even though no one could understand a word he was saying, let alone singing. He had his headphones plugged into a boom box, obviously to feed the music to his ears, and a microphone to amplify his voice...Why? I don't know...its not like he was any good, hell, he got more hecklers than fans, but they put money in his cloth like crazy. I looked at my brother and said "We can't compete with this". A security guard must have overheard me and yelled out "maybe you should make him your lead singer". Well 3 hours, 40 dollars, and floating body later I thought "maybe we should". He made $250 in the same time.
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