Silly humans...

Is it not wonderful this condition we could Religion/God/Soul/oblivion? I have ready with interest the valid answers up above, and have done some minor thinking myself. We all agree on one fundamental thing, and Marc (the Facebook member) has raised an interesting point regarding repetative 'spiritual' experience - which when coupled with the fundamental seem to suggest something else.

The Fundamental I am refering to is of course - human construct over time. All of the religions of the world - no matter which one we speak of have required human construction/interpretation/involvement. This goes without say - dogs don't write bibles, and cats don't pray to Bastet (or maybe they do we just don't speak Meowese). No Humans do. And I know from both personal experience and interviews with others that what I read and what you read from a fairly cryptic source can be redefined fifteen times (this is evidenced by the fact that most religions have numberous interpretive sects) and so it eventual boils down to humans making a choice - today I'm an Anglican Christian, tomorrow, because it fits my ideological make-up I'm a Hindu.

Which of these faiths then is correct if they are all man-made (or woman-made if you prefer)? As Marc correctly pointed out - in my opinion - you can't. Which leads to his second point in his original post on the 22nd of February - the experience of divine/cosmic presence. If so many people are claiming to have them can we simply dismiss it as self induced hysteria (as most of us do?) or do we have to realize that with such consistent 'experiences' happening, all over the planet, and in almost all religions it becomes difficult to believe that it's just one big marketing ploy on behalf of the priests of . So what then? Must I, like Marc, then accept that religious/spiritual connection is possible? And if so then there must be something to which we as humans can connect?

I don't think so. The answer - in my mind anyway - lies in the examination of the primary offering of all religions: Safety from evil, and security in eternal joy/enlightenment/realisation/rebirth. That is the fundamental basis of all religions (obviously Satanists would seek safety from Good people (which in my opinion is pretty easy to attain...?)). Nonetheless the ultimate conclusion to a spiritual life is safety etc. As humans each of us have numberous psychological things in common as well - fears, hopes, dreams, insecurities etc. If a place (building, meditation, mental, spiritual) offers us - even for a moment, a respit from these numerous worries, or allows us to feel totally safe and at peace with a naturally chaotic universe - could one, who gets to implicitly believing that this is possible only through god/spiritual/enlightenment not help but feel - however breifly - a sensation of calm, of joy, of relief, of enlightenment? When the subconscious is allowed to stop worriing, then the conscious can 'switch off' the whole being would then experience the cessation of internal conflict - which we all have on some level. To me if I can forget (even for a moment) all the worries of my life, that would feel like god/enlightenment/whatever.

So my question to you chaps and chappettes is simple: If we're all looking for the same thing why do we need different rules? And isn't it time we realized what we're looking for is an escape for a socially constructed 'hell'? One where we've derived so many different ways of escaping from it (all the various methods) but have somehow invented rules on how we can and can't escape from it. Rules that constrict us and place even greater pressures on us.

Isn't that a bit... silly?

Teachers Pet...

I consider myself to be a fairly honest and open lecturer. I tell it like it is - as they say. I don't hold my punches, I freely talk about the injustices of the systems and how as a country and a nation we have a lot to learn about one another and how we're all just pink and squishy on the inside. I will admit: students who are more eager to learn, or who show interest in their subject I am open to them exploring their topics with grater latitude than those who show no interest at all. I still mark fairly however. A pass is a pass is a pass, regardless of how interested one is in the subject or not.

But I find myself bumping into students who are so intolerant of others it is almost like finding a spitting cobra in the condiments section of a Woolworths. Today for example I had a student - lets call the person Bob. Now we're handling the subject of creative writing, and each student is tasked to invent a story. So Bob invents a story that is intolerant and that goes against the constitution of the country. It also happens to go against my personal beliefs. What should I do? What did I do is perhaps the more interesting question? I treated Bobs idea with as much respect as the rest of the idea's from the other learners.

What it did though was open up a series of questions in my thinking:

A - I wasn't aware that such intolerance existed anymore,
B - As a teacher should I try to enforce my morals?
C - As a paid teacher should I totally avoid contentious issues?
D - Should I ask for another teacher to mark the persons submitted work as I might be biased?

I'm not sure. I'm going to raise it with my boss tomorrow. Like I said it opens up some interesting questions: Teachers across the world must be faced with these issues all the time. Does a Christian Teacher allow a Muslin child to write a fable from his religion where the Christians all burn in hell? Should a gay man be allowed to teach young men? Should a straight woman be allowed to teach young men? Should heterosexuals be allowed to teach homosexuals? What about bisexuals?

When I was a lecturer at another college we had a female lecturer take some young male students out for coffee for 'scoring the highest marks' in class. When I say some young male students, I actually mean one. And the highest mark was on her 'to shag' list. Sadly or luckily for her as it turned out, he turned out to be married. But what does it mean? If he'd slept with her would she have marked his exams unfairly? Would she have slipped him clues as to what she was setting in the exam? A morally upright person wouldn't. I like to think I wouldn't. I'm particularly anal about following the rules... I doubt I'd break them for my own family ( I didn't when I had the chance), let alone for a student I was 'involved' with.

Which leads one to then ask - should I, as a gay man be teaching young men? Surely my eye will wonder? In truth Professor Mature comes out when I lecture and sex vanishes from my mind. If I think of my students - and I'm aware that some of them could read this and feel queasy - I'm thankful to say that although there might be some good looking lads, none of them are my cup of tea. I'm attracted to artists sure, but artists of my own age group, and with my own sense of warped reality. My class are all young innocent individuals more concerned with what they're wearing than whether the warp core of a Galaxy class starship is more powerful than the Stardrive of a Victory class destroyer. Odd I know, but then again, today's youth have their priorities all mixed up.

But what if another Star Trek nerd walks in who is instantly 'my cup of tea'. How would I react? Would I be the same? No. I'll answer fairly. I'd form a friendship with that person very quickly. How could we not? It's not often one meets a fellow Trekker. Would I treat him differently? Yes. I'd chat about Trek, provide insight into how they made the series, future plans etc. and certainly be much more open to him asking me questions about film making. I'd definately lend him my books on the subject, and I'd happily look for a job for him. Because he is no longer a student? No. Because he is a friend, and perhaps a lover.

But what about during class? If I was setting a test? What would I do? I'd personally fail the son-of-a-bitch if he came even close to answering stupidly. Because I'd expect more of him. He'd need to be sharp to keep up with me, and so when doing an assignment or an exam I'd expect him to push further, to excell, and to challenge me and my knowledge. Perhaps it is because I don't seek sex in a partner, I seek an equal to share my existance with that I can have this kind of detachment, or singular drive to push my partner to greater hights? I hope, I know that if I were tempted by a student, he'd have to work twice as hard to pass. Is that fair? No. Others could coast past - but I'd expect more. So that answers the question for me and sexual misconduct...

But what of the male teacher teaching young women? I know of several friends - thankfully not teachers - who only target the empty headed 18 year olds. If they became teachers would the temptation become too great? And what about post education sex? Student graduates and six weeks later is in bed with the lecturer? Is that moral? Doesn't sound moral... but then what about six months? Is that enough time? How about a year?

What about the old school idea of only employing married people or widowed people? Rare these days to find a married couple, or a widowed couple. A divorcee is, in my opinion, equally as likely as a single person to sleep with someone.

And what about teaching my morals or ethical codes? When parents hire me to teach their children how to be movie makers do they expect me to impart some kind of moral value into that? The argument for that - I need to make the student aware of the laws of the country so that their films are legal. I also need to make them explore the options of 'What If', which requires a certain ethical flexibility. But do I have the right to turn around and say - "Bob, you moral degenerate, that's backwards thinking! Amend your ways or get out!" I don't think so. I think I have the right though to point out - if you join the Hairdressing fraternity and you 'hate all queers' that your career will most likly struggle...

I feel that if the subject is raised in my class that I - as a being of thinking mind and body - should host that debate, and ensure representation from all sides, whilst maintaining law and order (if the debate is during a creative writing or media ethics class). But then the question that is left to answer is:

Who exactly IS teaching the country morals, ethics, values, and ideals? Churches? Well yes, but they, by definition, can't teach alternatives.

"Open to Psalm 54 if you like, or check out the Koran... unless you'd like to consider a past life?"

So religions can't help a student to choose for themselves. Most of the religions actively oppose students looking to alternatives (burn in hell, reborn as a slug, accrue bad energy etc.).

How about schools? Nope - I've just pointed out we are not paid to do that. Besides unless you get a total nut-job you'd need 10 teachers for the one subject: Morals and Ethics. Week one - Christian views - marry ONE wife, Week two - Traditional Cultural views - marry TEN wives, Week Three - Homosexual views - Marry or don't, just live as life partners... Can you imagine? It would be wonderful. I'd actually like to attend a couple lectures on that subject.

So that leaves the parents of the students. Does that mean that the parents are right? If we say yes to that - I'd be a racist who hates Indians, Zulu's, Afrikaaners, and Germans - just because members of my immediate family do. Thankfully I don't, if only because I had to rebel against that teaching because up until I came out - some of the family hated fucking poofta's as well. So if not the teachers, the schools, the parents, the churches, who then? The Government? If the government tried to teach us what to think - well we'd have Nazi's or Stalinists running around. The reason being that we're all so violent about defending our opinions.

If you don't believe in our system - DIE, or spend eternity in shit. Or come back and repeat the world again as a crippled person in Java somewhere... None of us are willing to say - hey you know what - Just do whatever makes you happy, as long as it doesn't affect the rest of us. I totally agree with the 10 commandments - in places. Thou shalt not kill - it's good up until my husband is being murdered, my student is being raped, a dog is being burned to death etc. Then you can chuck out those commandments. Do not covert thy neighbours wife... what if she wants to be coveted? Live in denial for eternity? Hell no, get together.

So in short dear reader I am again amazed at us -Humans - at how we invent pain and suffering for ourselves quite happily, and develop these wonderful things called beliefs and ideologies about what is right and what is wrong and about how to achive happiness, about why we should and why we shouldn't. Isn't it marvelous to think that somewhere someone is having a jolly good laugh at all of us, fighting about changing the rules - rules which we ourselves invented in the first place? Only Humans can be that mad...

The Awesomeness of life on the dark side

I know I've done one of these the other day but I feel that I need to express it again. I am surrounded by amazing people. Take for example James who posted such a wonderfully supportive comment about my last article. I didn't ask him to do it, hell I didn't ask him to read it. But he did. And my dearest friends around me. I come home furious with office issues and the guys cook me dinner, bring me tea and give me my space. Other friends take me to expensive dinners, still others send sms'es trying to ask me how I'm holding up. My parents - both of them - remain worried about my future. My sister is equally concerned about my existence.

I do not have words enough to say how much I love each one of them, friends and family, and how much I feel honoured with their support. I can only hope to match this in some small way. Now perhaps I'm just odd, but I suspect not. Have you recently thanked your friends and family for being there for you? It's a simple act, and for me I feel almost stupid saying it. But we most certainly need to say it regularly.

Ironically everyone is saying how brave I am for bringing my life out into the open, and for candidly discussing my thoughts on existence, and yet it is these very people who seem genuinely keen to learn more and share more that I was so afraid to come out to. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks about me, I care only what my friends and family think. My 'Brave' act was self created. And I think we often do this to ourselves. We trap ourselves into a circle of self created fear and obstacles. When we give in to these self created demons we loose sight of why we are here. I'm not talking in a biblical sense, I'm talking in an existence sense. I feel we're here to learn, experience, and ultimately have fun. Then we die. But we can make a difference on this rock and it is that which drives me. I know for others it is not the same. But how can I make my difference if I'm trapped within a circle of self created fear?

So I've been looking recently at all my fears. Which ones are real, and which ones are not? My fear of snakes - well that's created. I know snakes are not out to get me. Why do I have this fear? I don't know. I still have an embarrassed reaction to telling people that I'm gay. I don't know why this is. So far every single person I've told has been nothing but supportive. In most cases they've been more supportive than I could have dreamed for. So why now should I remain fearful of a negative reaction? Am I just being silly? Yes. Is it holding me back? In some ways. But a lot less than in the past.

Now I have one slight issue that I'm not sure how to deal with. Xartan was here the other day, and played Dungeons and Dragons for nearly four days straight. He was insatiable. Morning, noon, and night he wanted to play. He even skipped attending his usual religious meets because it would decrease his playing time. Something that has not happened in years. So naturally I was curious as to why.

It turns out that Xartan sees his present world as that of Luke Skywalker on Dagobah. He is in training for the day when he can become a Jedi Knight. It is hard work, self sacrifice, and smelly. But occasionally he has to make a trip to Jabba the Hutt's palace. I, aka Jabba, provide him with the opportunity to engage in an orgy of the flesh (if only dears he's gorgeous). By flesh I mean of course the sins of... gluttony, self indulgence etc. So as Jabba I and my den of evil provide him with a place where he can have his soul attacked by the forces of darkness so that when he returns to Yoda he is drained and has a greater desire to become a Jedi than before. Although he seeks he light side, he needs the dark side to provide perspective and give renewed vigor to his training. Now he did point out that he refers to me as Jabba simply because of Jabba's obsession with self indulgence... not because we share a similar body shape. Oh stop laughing. But I have to agree - paint me green and let me lounge on a couch naked and it's gonna be tricky spotting the real Jabba. BUT ANYWAY...

So now my difficultly is then in my quest to find myself I've been cast as an evil crime lord (incidentally demoted in Xartan's fantasy from the Evil Emperor to Jabba as I'm now at least only inflicting my evil on myself and not others as I did in the past) who has a den of debauchery that occasions to host a padawan for a couple days so the padawan can get his rocks off. I am not sure how this makes me feel. What I thought to be a quest for inner enlightenment and truth he sees as a journey into darkness. To different perspectives, but I did have a dream after hearing about this that I was the devil and I was torturing Xartan in an attempt to get him to turn to the darkside. (There may have been some sexual bits but I'll skip that.)

How does one respond to such a statement? Oh I think you're the dark lord of evil. At the beginning of this blog I thank all my wonderful friends for helping me. Should I instead be expecting tribute from my enslaved vassal dark knights? Perhaps I should feel nothing about their generosity. After all I'm the dark lord and they're just my minions. Or should I stop to wonder at Xartan's idea of good and evil? That he can ascribe to my journey such a dark and lonely existence - be he's been there before? Xartan has never been a gay man learning how to enjoy life. He's been a young buck running around fucking every woman that moved. He's been lost and curious and confused for as long as I've known him. Surely his ascription (to ascribe something - new word for the week) of my status is a projection of his past, and not my present? At least I hope so.

I don't consider myself evil. I like to play evil characters in Dungeons and Dragons because I'm not bound to put up with shit from anyone, and can have them 'removed' if I want. But that's fantasy. In real life at best I could say I'm sarcastically evil. I make fun of idiots because I can. Am I evil that way? I don't think so. Am I evil because I accept my sexuality? I don't see how. A red haired person is not evil because their hair is red (as used to be the case a couple hundred years ago). But then again sexuality is specifically written about in the good book. There are rules which I am not about to start following. Now the majority of the rules in that book are fabulous - don't kill etc.

But does that mean that whomever does not follow the rules is evil? Part of me says YES. Speed on the road, and you're a bad person. Pay a bribe and you're a bad person. Deal in or take drugs... perhaps. So if the good book says I'm an evil person for choosing not to follow the good book - does that make me a bad person. Well according to Xartan it does. According to other books it doesn't. Who's book do you follow? They all say they're right and the rest are wrong.

So here is a philosophical idea that may sound strange: What if we all have our own rules with only one common set that we can draw from? We could do the whole - murder, rape, covert, and lie set. Those are good. Because they affect other people. What about the rules that only affect ourselves? Don't masturbate? Don't eat pork? Eat only with your right hand? Do we keep those? I say no. What is good for me is not necessarily good for you. What does a man with only a left hand do to eat? I love pork, and it is no different - nutritionally than beef. Does a recorded halal prayer have less of an effect than a real one? If the imam really meant the prayer at the time of the recording does it retain it's value when replayed on a DVD a year later?

In short good readers - and I'm ending here - live by your own rules and don't be afraid of others. We're all afraid of each other it would appear, and none of us are brave enough to realize it (well some of us are). Your friends are there for life, treat them well, invite them to your den of evil from time to time, and don't be afraid to share: ITS YOUR LIFE, YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR IT, BUT YOU GOT IT - SO USE IT.

A queer thing...

I was asked today a very interesting question, which I felt inspired to try to answer to the best of my limited capabilities. I was asked: When did I decide I was gay. My immediate reaction was - I didn't decide. I just am. He didn't seem satisfied. And neither was I. When did I realize I was gay? At what point did I understand what gay was? Well first lets define a few things: 

1. One never chooses to be gay, bisexual, or straight. It's not a conscious decision. You don't choose to have two legs, and you can't decide what is funny or not. It is just something that we have as Humans. 

2. Gay, to me, is not simply a sexual action (I will clarify later on this). I am gay though because I get excited thinking about penises and pecs, not vagina's and breasts.

3. One has no choice in the matter on what one finds sexually attractive, mentally attractive, or spiritually attractive.

4. There is a difference in the above (3) statement. 

So - lets work through this. Lets start with sex. When I was growing up the first 'sexual' encounter I had was at the tender age of 5. I had a little Zulu girl as a friend and one day we stuck bits of grass into one anothers genitals (not far mind you, it was more prodding), kind of like Chimps fishing for ants. We were not aroused by the act, merely curious as to why there was a difference. We did it once and that was it. (Incidentally this was the last time I came into close proximity with a cunny).  We never gave it a second thought. Until now of course. (Obviously she may have remembered it fondly for years, but I don't know what became of her or her mother.)

Then a couple of years later, I was about 7 or 8 and my female cousin and I were playing doctor. I had my pants down and she was doing something to my botty when her father walked in, and then very embarrassed walked out. I was mortified. I knew on some level what we were doing was wrong. Nothing came of it though. No screaming and shouting. Of course at this stage in ones life girls are just playmates. Then in class two I met a boy. I was instantly attracted to him. Not in a sexual way. Sex didn't exist then to me. He was everything I was not. Tall, blond, good looking, bold - everyone wanted to be his friend (ironically everyone wanted to be my friend and I ignored them for him). He was good at everything I was not, and he was in Standard Three! I wanted to be around him all the time. Sometimes I was, sometimes I was not. But he still sticks out in my mind as being one fine piece of beef. I didn't really want to do anything with him, just be around him. The others were for playing games. He was just for being with. 

Then Standard Three rolled on. And I moved schools. And I met Him. This chap was shy, reserved, and a genius. He laughed at my jokes (always scores points with me), was also blond, and perfect. I wanted to be near him as well. At this point I began to desperately want to see his willy. I don't know why, but I did. I tried every trick in the book. Locker-room glances, but since I hated sport I never brought my PE clothes so I was seldom allowed in. I even took him to a mud pit and got us plastered in mud, and made a tentative suggestion that we remove our clothes to keep them clean. He didn't buy it... the bugger. 

In Standard Five I was pressured into marrying a girl during lunch break. Probably the closest I'll ever get. In Standard Six I was picked on for being gay. I rebuked the idea and the characters responsible, me gay? Never! Ummm... what does that mean? I knew it meant something bad, but I wasn't sure what exactly it meant. The boy from Standard Three was still there, and very much dear to me. Increasingly so day by day. But in Standard Six I learned about girls and sex and what was supposed to happen. I remember being vaguely aware of it in Standard Five, but Dungeons and Dragons was more interesting at the time. In Standard Six I learned all the facts of life from my various friends. And in Standard Seven the Internet arrived. And so did the porn. In black and white, downloaded on a 14400 modem... in the dead of night. 

What would happen was another friend of mine would surf with me looking for ' naked women'. Then when he went to bed I'll look for men. And then if he came back - I'd comment how the bloody site took me there by mistake.

From there it gets boring. So by Standard Seven I knew I was gay. Officially. One could argue I was aware of being gay as early as Standard Five, but I didn't really know what it meant till much later. So that deals with the sexual side of things. But don't close the book on sexual... just yet. I'm often asked, some ask... was asked once, in passing - don't you find the female form attractive?

WARNING - BELOW ARE TWO PICS - BOTH WITH CLOTHS ON

Here is arguably a sexy female and male in very tight clothes. Let's compare. Strong jaw on the man, with intense dark eyes that promise nothing but intense focus and honesty. For her I see beguiling, luring eyes which promise a great deal but for whom? She has big, sultry lips, which to me dwarf her nose. His nose is strong, his mouth is firm. He is strong, she is curvaceous. Her frame is lithe, supple, and seductive. His is strong, independent, and not afraid of anything. Notice how her shape guides the eye to her hidden treasures, which she provocatively hides. His package is there in front. Deal with it. In other words there is an honest openness that the male has which to me is far more attractive than the secrets the female form hints at. I want to feel, physically the body of my lover. He would feel me back. I suspect she might not be able to. And don't start on the breasts. I refused to be breast fed as a child, and I won't suckle no titty now either. Openness and strength of purpose; I suppose is a fundamental part of my journey of self. I have sought direct, open honestly for so long because for so long I have been hiding myself. I have been the "woman" behind the make-up and the secrets (I do NOT WANT to be a woman, and am allergic to make-up). I want to be a man who can strut about with his package leading the way, and speak the truth and be honest about what I am and what I want. Does that mean that now I am becoming these things I shall want a woman?

This leads us (neatly and beautifully if you'll notice) to the second side of gay. The mental and spiritual. I link these two because I'm not spiritual. I'm creative. And that is a result of my mental faculties. If I look at the picture of that hunk in a speedo I get excited, physically. But a few short, sharp, stokes and the excitement is gone. And I'm not interested in the image for a couple of hours... And I don't consider a partner a partner if it's just sex. That's just fucking for fun. A partner is more than that. And to me so is being gay. 

I'm not just gay because of penis and pec lust. If I talk to a woman (most of the women I talk to) are simply emotional hunters. They are interested in talking about their emotions, but not acting to change them. I don't know how many women have prattled on for hours about their problems, and then when I've offered advise, they seem to resist it (and I'm sure you've experienced the same thing). They want to solve their own problems via talking and talking and talking. And they don't have nearly the same ideas about life as men do. This is not a new statement. There are whole libraries devoted to the subject. But men - when you really connect - will listen to one another, make battle plans, and try to fix a problem. As I write this I can already read the bias I have towards men, and against women. I just don't like them. They are not interested in anything I am interested in, their insights are usually off the mark, and they are emotional players, who seem to get frustrated easily*. Men seem to be more tenacious in solving problems, actually want to solve problems, and can be honest about their motives.**

So when I say I'm gay it is because of these fundamentals: 

1 - I am sexually attracted to men and not women.

2 - I am drawn to people who think like I do.

3 - I want to be near strong characters who are not submissive (feminine)

Why spend the afternoon with a woman watching some stupid romantic comedy when I can spend the afternoon with a guy watching some alien rip a woman's head off? Why argue over which restaurant we will go to, and then sit with a sulking Susan when we can flip a coin and eat somewhere where the food is fast and cheap? And the whole opening doors, lifting and carrying, and standing up in front of women? They burned the bra in 1912 to be equal. Now they must deal with it. 

In other words if the only thing that attracts heterosexuals to women is their vagina's and breasts, and in exchange they are willing to put up with all the emotional turmoil and mental discord, as far as I'm concerned the hays are missing the plot. But if the hays are drawn to being a protector of these impish creatures, and find it entertaining listening to emotional drivel or mundane stuff without being able to say can-it, then I can understand. 

In short dear reader I have never liked women, always liked men (in all aspects) and so that is what makes me gay. The only choice I have ever had is whether or not I should declare this to the general public. It took me a while, but now I can. So perhaps ask yourself - do you want strength, honesty, and fulfilment in your relationship? If you're not getting that - perhaps it's time to step out of the closet and try the other side?

* - I have met several notable women who do not do this and whom I love as sisters. 

** - there are many queens running around who are basically on the same level as the emotional hunters.

Money Logic...never!

I will most certainly be the first person to admit that I am lousey with money. All of my friends can testify to that. I don't save it, I spend it. And then I spend it on stuff to make my world a brighter place: Stormtrooper armour, books, DVD's, masks... useless stuff. Well useless from a practical point of view, but totally worth every last cent in my own opinion. But I do consider myself generous (when I have something to be generous with) and I also consider myself fair. Lend me a thousand Rand here, and I'll repay it (again this may take longer than antipated but I will eventually... [Alan your cheque is actually in the mail...]). 

Anyway I'm not here today to blather on about bad debt. I  want to find out if I'm the only person on the planet who cannot understand the rationale behind the companies I've worked for in terms of their finanicial commitment to me. Hows that for a title? Anyway this is my question: 

I work harder than most, infusing all my talent and energy into a company. I give of it my all, devoting the vast majority of my time to it. I bring major change to the organizations, I restructure badly thought out work-flows, and am constantly looking to improve how the company makes money. From time to time I ask for money to be spent on other items for the company which may be excessive. However I don't waste other peoples money. I work overtime without charging for it because I feel - the job must get done. And yet the companies refuse to pay me a decent salary. 

Now what confuses me is that everyone I speak to says I'm worth at least four times what I'm being paid at the moment. Hell even people within the organization are saying that. So here is my question again: if everyone can see it - why doesn't the boss see it? Why, when I ask for a raise, does it take three months of negotiations only to be blocked by pathetic answers? Why does the boss not simply say: Here my lad, here is a raise to show that we can appreciate your contribution. Now go forth and continue to develop the brand?

I've worked for three companies now that all had this mentality. And so far I'm two for two on the whole apply for raise, get nothing, and so resign. I hate resigning. There is that terrible moment where you actaully resign. Everyone goes quiet, and your balls retract as you realize you now need to find R8000.00 before the end of the month. But this morning I worked it out. At least I think I did, so I ask for those of you who are learned in the ways to correct me if I'm wrong. 

The boss cannot simply offer an increase to the amount he'd like because if he did it might establish an expectation for the next year for another increase. 

I find this hard to swallow. If that were the case he should simply state at the time of giving the raise - this is a once off thing. So it's not that one.

The boss does not have the budget.

This is a tricky one. Naturally every boss is nothing going to have budget. But when the boss then approves a new photo-copy machine that costs a years worth of salaries to replace a perfectly good machine you start to wonder. Or in my case you realize that you're working on the budget yourself and so know the figures. So that doesn't hold water.

Right next option then is perhaps the boss does not want to give you a raise because others might want one two. 

Oh performance based bonuses are very difficult to manage and justify. What constitutes performance? Doing one's duties? Doing duties outside of your department? This isn't applicable to me since I'm working in almost all the departments at my office, volunteering my time everywhere without falling behind in my work.

So that leaves then boss doesn't want to give a raise because boss is tight-fisted and doesn't want his profits to be impacted. Boss is trying to squeeze every last cent of work out of one without paying for it. But I cannont understand this mentality. If the worker is saying he'll leave if he doesn't earn more where is the logic in loosing a productive worker because of a minor drop in profit? Especially when that worker and the work they generate will increase profits?

Is it because there is always someone who will take the job for the money? Yes. But sadly where does that leave the company? With a disenchanted under motivated worker who's productivity is just enough to avoid being fired. How is that mentality good for business? It isn't. It cannot be.

I have never left one job to move into a worse one. I have had the luxary of friends who support me, and a loving family so I guess that makes me one of the lucky ones. But I know this now dear reader: I WILL NEVER BE EXTORTED AGAIN.

The next company I work for will pay for my services or else they can get inferior work from someone else. I want a balance between my work time and my play time. I want a balance between my work input and my financial reward. And I will not settle for anything less. Why should I? Why should you? 

So ask yourself my dear reader - am I working for someone elses profits, or am I working for my own? If you are working for someone elses profits - I challenge you to join me in standing up, resigning, and finding a place where we can each work for our own profits and not those of some tight-fisted glutton. 

Rage, rage, against the failing of the wage!

Bi the bi...

I know I only blogged the other day but it was more of a walk through my personal history than anything else. Today I have something I feel is worth blogging about. M - a loyal follower of this blog - asked me the other about Bi-Pride. Does it exist? At first I did what I think the majority of gay people (and interestingly enough heterosexual people - from now on called Hay people in my blogs btw) did. I dismissed it as being mildly silly. Bi-Pride. I mean as if... those people are just confused queers who don't have the guts to deny the cunny or willy as the case might be. But then I got to thinking hang on a minute - that sounds awfully like a denial of a state of sexuality. Something I've been doing for years and have only now (aka last blog) finally accepted. And it wasn't a choice (aka last couple blogs) it was an acceptance of who I was. What's good for the goose is good for the gander or so they say (they = me). 

Well this goose was feeling a little troubled. Bisexuals (bays from now on) are in a limbotic world. (oh be prepared for new words to be developed and nurtured here, because I fucking can. Limbotic = a world in limbo but torn twixt two ideals that seem incongruent and yet are almost identical) They are neither hay or gay, neither here nor there. And then I got to thinking about partnerships. I can't even find one blind, desperate male unable of out running me to shag, a bay would need to find one of both sexes. Who don't mind sharing. And I thought I had it bad? So whilst responding to M I made mention of a new war. The hays had it, and lost it to the gays, who now have it but need to share it with the bays. But unlike the old war where it was the right for same sex, now we are faced with the right for destroying our last vestige of the sexual covenant. Gays and Hays alike ascribe to this practise when possible, and their relationships fail when they don't: Monogamy. 

I'm not implying that a bi-sexual would not be faithful, and I'm not pretending to understand how exactly bays would work in terms of relationships, but from what I can gather there is a requirement for a polygamous relationship (a faithful one). A bay man would want to sleep with women, and equally with other men. A bay woman would need to be filled with man, and woman equally. This, to my mind, implies that if a bay selects the one, there will always be an urge to indulge the other. After all I can only image it as liking chocolate and ice-cream. Eating just the one would create a craving of the other. So the only healthy solution would be to eat both (as some of us do hence the weight problem...). 

But this leaves the bay in search of other bays or very opened minded gays and hays. As a gay would I let my boyfriend have a girlfriend? Sadly I don't think. I'd constantly be thinking - what the fuck does he see in her? I don't understand why I'm not sufficient. As a hay husband could I let my wife go and sleep with another woman? (oddly enough most hay men desire this, so perhaps that is where we should aim our first revolution?) But the story gets more complicated. A hay and a gay can have a single partner, and get by and large marital rights. And one could arguably take a multi-partnered marriage to the courts and claim the cultural thing. But do I see SARS adding: Name of spouses to their already reduced form?

It looks pretty bleak for the bays I'll grant you. Or does it? Granted there are many battles still to be fought, but ultimately it was the gays who got electro-shock therapy in the past, the hay women who were imprisoned for bucking the system. Today's world is more a court battle than anything else, and I'd like to hope - in South Africa, where we have been legally forced to be accepting, that the future for bays is not as desperate as it at first seems. Perhaps the first phase is an influx of openly bay people? I knew of one, and I know of M (but only through this blog I think). If we had more openly bay people, bay people demanding rights and recognition perhaps we could move forward? But how does that resolve my personal problem of monogamy versus multi-partnered, multi-sexual existance? I need to understand it more, and have an open mind towards the idea. In short I need to deconstruct my dislike of women as a physical object. I don't mind women as a species, I just don't see them as being attractive sexually. So how do I now go and reprogram myself to see the virtues of sleeping with a woman so I can understand the urge that a bay has? I don't know. Exposure to bay thought. That's my only solution on this friday morning. And equally, all you hays out there, you need to start breaking down your society ingrained avoidance of sizing up a member of the same sex. 

So the first step we need to take - hays and gays - is to welcome bays into our worlds, circles, groups. I'd like to know more bays to be honest. For we only gain understanding and acceptance of a thing if we actively engage in exploring it through discussion and shared experiences. It's an exciting time in this country for all things, and a 'new' sexual freedom that must be embraced by all of us. So M - like I said I'd love to chat more, mail me (sclanders@gmail.com). 

So, and not being flippant: Have you hugged a bay today?

My friend the alien

Happy New Year. I think. Don't worry this isn't a blog about the virtues of life and New Years and so forth and so on. I'm not going to wax lyrical about my New Years resolutions. I don't have any in case you were wondering. This year I'm going to live my life to the best of my ability without silly goals. No this blog is more about what a new year means in a sense of life on planet Earth or more specifically how that life on Earth deals with the fact that we've spun around the sun once, and are going to do it again, and again, and again until one of us gives up...

So I have a friend. Lets call him Xartan. I will always keep Xartan in a special place in my heart and psyche he is my brother and at one time through-out time a soul bonded cosmic enemy. I met Xartan in standard six - on my first day in high school. I had been assigned to the C class - for under-achievers and general incompetents. I know why. I was a major under-achieving general incompetent. And an arrogant ass. I was incompetent because I had grown up in a protected world where the only sure thing was my mothers love, my love of fantasy, and that I was different from the rest because unlike others I still didn't like girls. Anyway I was feeling particularly sorry for myself because all my friends, and my secret crush were assigned rightfully to the A class. I was in my own eyes, those of my mother, and grandmother a failure. Sorry. Focus on the story. Right so there I was sitting three desks from the front, facing the door. My teacher was... lets call him Mr. Cunt. He really was. So Mr. Cunt is preparing to take register and in walks Xartan. He's laughing and chatting to some lowlife (who really was). 

I don't know what it was about Xartan. But I fell in love with him at once. Not in a sexually lusting kind of way. But I just knew - I knew that he was going to be my friend. It was all that I wanted. Other things happened that day which I don't recall, and some which I do which lead to a totally different friendship with another amazing human, but that's a blog for another time. As fate would have it (not that I believe in fate but it's a useful expression) Xartan and I became friends. We both had the same interests. How wonderful! Romans, fantasy, drawing, creating new worlds in our minds, English. We were a perfect match. Except it was a match made in the story books of old we so enjoyed reading. I was his perfect Villain to my perfect Hero. 

We challenged one another at every turn. Who could be more creative, write better works, do greater, more impressive things in the fantasy games we played. I would get frustrated by how long he took to get something perfectly right, and I suppose he was equally frustrated over how quickly I dashed things offs. Sometimes (with all modesty told to fuck off) I did great things with a mere thought. Most of the time it was pie in the sky with as much substance as a fart. However we came to become great friends. Always rivals, always at the opposite sides of the scale. He was Luke Skywalker to my Emperor Palpatine. He had his Han Solo, and I had my Vader. But it was always in the most boyish of friendships. 

Until I twisted a request he made to a friend of mine to suit my own ends (sadly a pattern I still use today to get what I want). Naturally it acted as a focal point of our animosity. Our friendship collapsed. Xartan moved away for a year but then came back to my world. We resolved our differences as two enemies can and built a new friendship. I'd say it was more honest and open. All was as it should be. We united against common enemies, moved into the A class as we both deserved to be in, and life was for all intents and purposes perfect. 

Xartan was not religious. Neither was I. But in our first year of tertiary - although in different parts of the country - I went into film making (continuing my love of fantasy) and he went into alternative therapies. He began to espouse the power of healing the mind, the body, and the soul. I was - laughing and skeptical. Rocks have no more power to heal us than needles stuck into dark orifices do. Skulls - crystal, Spielberg or otherwise - can no more tell me about my past than a modern calculator. But Xartan was convinced. Past lives became the fad. We were rivals in the past he said. We had some kind of unfinished business. Hence being brought together in this life. Yes celestial powers felt we needed to continue a chat from one lifetime in Egypt to another in Durban, and so had our ancestors move in such mystical ways so as to have his mother and father have sex in the same year as mine, and for ... you get my point. 

Anyway Xartan finally came to his senses. He didn't fit into the world because he was an alien. Placed here for punishment. That was why the human condition was such a mystery to him. I was about as supportive as a house of cards. But apart from the times when he needed to go and meditate (wank?) he was still the old Xartan ready to pick up a sword and come play in the worlds of make-believe with me. It is at this point dear reader that I've had one of those free-association epiphanies. I've just realized that whilst I was gently mocking him, I was as deluded as he was, both of us stuck in fantastical worlds avoiding the real one (why I wonder? what did we fear so much in reality that we needed to hide behind dragons? God now I'm bawling my eyes out. Thanks reader for making me write this. OK, give me a moment.) It is not the first time that I've jeered at his struggle to find himself. I'm sorry for being an arsehole Xartan, forgive me. [In truth this is why I like writing these blogs. As I pour out a stream of drivel sometimes I hit a little grain of truth]. Anyway so Xartan was looking for his mother ship, and I was trying to come to terms with my sexuality. It was to Xartan that I first confessed my homosexuality. I was in my bed, next to the window, and he was on the floor in my room on a silly foam mattress. He typically spent most weekends at my house during our first year of tertiary in this fashion. We'd been talking for hours and I needed to tell someone. He was there for me. He set the tone by which everyone else I have ever told about my sexuality has responded: He was supportive and kind. Thanks bro. 

Moving on. Xartan encouraged me to explore and develop. He helped me through my big crush revelation, and the rejection that came with it. He helped me to show others that side of myself. And in time he came to my rescue when my life was turning in odd directions. But after a while Xartan turned to Buddhism. He was no longer an alien, and rocks were now just bits of geology. As a Buddhist I feel his goal to seek enlightenment was to be achieved by screwing anything with breasts and legs that would open. Then he went to Scotland. I was hiding in the USA from my only boyfriend - of three weeks and one kiss. I feel I need to justify: the kiss was a totally mis-communication on my boyfriends part, and a total misinterpretation on mine. It was also the most wonderful sensation I've ever had. OK, back to sex-mad Xartan in Scotland. 

I was in the USA working on a documentary and it's near Christmas. I log on-line and he's there in a chat room. He's in some cybercafe (because it's cheaper than an hotel room and has hot coffee on tap). We chat. He'd spent three days in some hotel in some little Scottish backwater sleeping with a beautiful Australian girl. And that's it. He shagged her silly until his willy was nilly. Sorry, that was stupid. It was interesting to listen to his enthusiasm and excitement about this, his  most amazing sexual experience yet. Xartan returned home and became a Christian. If you're shocked can you imagine how we were?

It was a shock to us all. He forbade himself sex. Then he got more into the church, and as it enveloped him, he began to shrug off all that made Xartan, Xartan. Drawing, fantasy, Romans... it all became a distraction from his path with God, and was tossed aside. In a way I benefited by picking up some cool books that he was about to chuck. But the day we (his mother and I) found him tearing pages out of the Mormon bible because of it's blasphemy (damn his mother was mad) I knew Xartan was lost to us. His spaceship had left orbit with an MIA. His was the promise  of salvation from ones self, ones demons. Everything that you hated about yourself, all the petty evils you had ever committed could be absolved, all the dark thoughts wiped clear for ever... And for a while I became a slave to that dream.

I say a slave because in order for the salvation to work - you have to surrender completely to God (it actually says you need to die of yourself and be reborn as a son [assumedly a daughter as well but the Bible wasn't gender tolerant... I mean specific] of god). You needed to purge yourself of all the old evils that you sook (past tense of seek?) salvation from. That unfortunately included some of the good things as well. Forget throwing the baby out with the bathwater, this was throwing the whole fucking bathroom out and starting again. For a while I was in this world of sacrifice. Until I realized it wasn't sacrifice. Sacrifice implies a death of something. An end. It was a continual struggle. A continual daily sacrifice. And the sacrifices were mounting. That and part of what makes us Human - our individuality - was up for the chop. I began to see that everyone in the church was trying to become the same thing. Men dressed the same, spoke in the same soft tones, moved in the same soft ways (at one stage I thought I'd found the biggest gathering of closet queens on Earth). The women were ALL the same. Loyal, supportive, mildly creative in card making, and ever ready to help out. Look these are not bad things. But when everyone is the same there is no spark. No dynamic. I got bored. And I got tired of sacrificing virtually everything that defined who I was simply in order to become a worshiping zombie totally reliant on the directives of elders, God's inspirations, and the Word. The clinch came for me after nearly six months of mind-altering worship at Christ's feet.

Xartan had to break-up with a longtime girlfriend because she was not Christian enough. She was Christian but just not the right sort of Christian. At that point I realized that I'd never be the right sort. I wanted to be independent, I wanted to express my 'God-given' powers in my own way. And I couldn't. I began to drown. And then my company - Christian to the core - got me to make a documentary on how and why Christians are right and evolutionists are wrong. I read books from both sides of the battle, fervently biased towards the Christians. Evolutionists however won hands down. The fundamental argument of the Christian (or any religion for that matter) is: Because It [insert deity, tomb, scripture, scroll name here] says so.

I left Xartan and the mindless slaves. Xartan now runs his own church. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT I hear you scream. Who cares? Some of you know Xartan, others don't. Why? Why am I telling you all this? It's my longest blog to date. Why? Well what it raises in my mind, and hopefully in yours a question - Xartan is not happy. He is desperately lonely, snakes his way down from his mountain holy ground into my den of evil to perform evil acts to my computer, or partake in his old habits of playing fantasy games [and having a good time whilst doing it!]. Then he retreats back to his prayers and sacrifices. So what is the new year got to do with it?

I want to ask you - this paradox we call existence - how is yours treating you? What kind of journey have you been on in the past decade? How has your world changed, and who has changed your world for you in the last 3564 days (stop it, the maths is wrong, fuck off)? And are you doing anything differently now? I'm NOT talking about smoking or drinking, I'm talking about life shifts. I'm talking about drawing in your friends and marveling at how they've either changed or stubbornly refused to. And asking perhaps: Is it time you changed? Or have you found yourself and have a plan for this year? I have personally (come on, I'm allowed my own time now, this is my fucking blog after all) changed. Not in how I treat other people, that's for next decade. But in how I treat myself. I'm gay and I'm going to deal with it. And I'm NEVER going to try to change that again. So how have I changed in the last ten years? I've made a singular decision. If all of this has one single point - I've finally made my mind up on one single solitary thing. It's not like I had a choice. I mean it's really like me admitting to having a leg or an arm, and deciding to say: I am a biped. But you get my point. So this year is the first full year for me to start living with that choice.

So dear reader what have you decided? What single choice will you make towards making your own life (and no one elses) a little bit happier? Will you sacrifice everything and live in a paradox of denial, repentance, and rebirth? Or will you take a step outside with me, and accept yourself as having the capacity to make a decision (for better or worse) using your own faculties and no one elses? Come and walk with me on the wild side. Or not, you choose...