Press 1 to answer a short survey

A couple have just finished making steamy passionate sex. She rolls off him. Both of them recover their breath, and then she picks up her tablet from the bedside table and turns to him.
"Would you mind if I asked you a few short questions?

"Sure"

"How easy was it for you to get hold of us today?"

"Well it took a while, but it was certainly worth it" he gazes at her admiringly "and there sure was a lot to get hold of"

"Thinking about your experience now, on a scale of 0 to 10, with 0 being very poor and 10 being excellent, how would you rate it?

"Oh a 10 babe. Ten for sure. Comere and lemme give you a kiss."

"Hold on. There's a few more. How likely are you to recommend this service to other people?"

"You must be joking"

"No. On a scale of 0 to 10, with 0 being extremely unlikely and 10 being very likely."

etc. etc.

_______________

This is how I amuse myself on those long spring nights:

Option 1:

A man is standing at the gap, a favourite suicide spot in Sydney, staring over the cliff edge to the sea far far below. Hands shaking he dials a number on the mobile in his hand. We listen in to the call.

"Hello you have reached the suicide call back service. your call is important to us but at the moment we are experiencing unusually high call volumes, please wait and a counsellor will be with you as soon as possible. Did you know you can also chat online with one of our counsellors by visiting our websiste"

Music comes on.

It is Monty Python's 'Always look on the Bright Side of Life."

The man carefully places the phone down on a nearby rock, and bends over, his back to us, fiddling with something on the ground. We pan back from the man to the phone, which is still playing the same song repetitively. We remain on the phone,, while off screen, after a while, we hear what may be a distant splash.

A short while later a bright and cheery voice takes over from the music. 'Hello, can I start with your name please?"

We pan back away from the phone. The man is nowhere to be seen but we stop for a moment to linger on a pair of empty shoes neatly placed just near the edge of the cliff.

Option 2

We rewind back to the man dialling a number on his phone. This time he is answered immediately by a human, the same bright voice we heard previously.

'Hello, can I start with your name please?"

"It doesn't matter what my name is. I've just gambled the family home away and I'm at the gap. Give me one reason why I shouldn't jump.... one fuc#4ng reason!"

"Certainly, we can talk about that, but first I must tell you this call is being recorded for quality control and training purposes. Are you ok with that?"

"No I'm fuc#4ing not ok..."

"Allright so you'd prefer me to turn the recording off...?"

"I don't care what the f#4k you do, I don't see any way out."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind if I put you on hold just for a minute. I'm a bit new here, and I just want to check something about our privacy policy with my supervisor. I'll be back with you in a minute. Please don't go anywhere. OK?"

Before he can answer there is a click and the music comes back on: 'Always look at the bright side of life.'

He waits, quietly sobbing to the music. Then he turns, his back to us, and begins to fiddle with something on the ground.

There is a click, and a different voice comes on.

"Hello, can I please start with your name?"

"Are you people going to help me, or what? Where's the other girl?"

"I'm a trained counsellor sir, would you like to tell me what's going on...."

"I'll tell you what's going on you fuc#4ng dickhead. I'm at the gap, I'm about to jump, I've lost everything, and you people are fuc#4ng useless."

"Ah, so you haven't actually tried to commit suicide yet?"

"No, but I'm about to."

"Oh I'm so sorry. I see. You've reached our POSTvention service, for people who have tried and didn't manage to quite pull it off. I think what you are after is our PREvention service. I can give you their number. Do you have a pen or something you can write with?

"I'm about to jump, I swear"

"Don't.......don't. Please don't. I'll text you the number ok? Give them a call. They will support you. I'm texting you right now... did you get it?"

There is a ping on the man's phone.

"I'll hang up sir, so you can call them. Promise me you'll call them, ok?"

"Can't you just put me through?"

"I can try, but if something goes wrong please promise me you'll call them?"

The man grunts.

"Ok I'm putting you through now. Take care."

There is a click. The phone rings and rings and rings. We wait expectantly, hopefully, for someone to answer. there is a click.

""Hello you have reached the suicide call back service. your call is important to us but at the moment we are experiencing unusually high call volumes, please wait and a counsellor will be with you as soon as possible. Did you know you can also chat online with one of our counsellors by visiting our websiste"

There is a click.

Then silence. Nothing. Gonisht min gonisht.

In despair the man hurls the phone into the void. We see its small lit screen falling down down to the sea.

We track it down in slow motion. As it falls. There is a click.

'Always look on the bright side of life'.

There is a splash. The phone bobs for a moment, then sinks beneath the waves.

 

 

VEGANOMIX

A man is interviewing candidates to sublet a room in a shared house, and is explaining to them that the kitchen is an animal free one. Some consider it, some ask how negotiable, some leave (this could also be a series of phone calls - we cut from phone call to phone call - or a series of typed online conversations - or a mixture of both.)

Eventually he finds a housemate who is is ardent as he.

He comes home from a hop and unpacks all his delicious vegan goods, humming as puts them away in fridge and freezer and pantry.

She cooks something and offers him to taste. They discuss ingredients , mushrooms, nuutritional yeast, pea protein etc etc and swop recipes.

She ys she is off to the square of truth.

he is out shoppng. he goes past a fast food outlet. moves out of frame. but then we are surprised to see him coming bck into frame and lingering there.

(he places a sticker there and then runs off...?)

he goes somewhere out of area, makes sure no one he know is around, furtively darts in,orders a chicken burger. Cut to him wolfing it down. this happens a few times.

cut back to home interacting with his house mate.

one day he is out nd about when he sees her doing the same thing ! (choice point....tell all, maintain the pretence, accuse her of hypocrisy....which is more interesting? which is more generative???

 

PERSPECTIVE

Two emaciated concentration camp inmates are sitting shivering in the corner of their bleak prison hut, having a quiet conversation while other skeletons nearby on bare bunk shelves try to find a few hours escape from the cold and starvation in sleep.

The one inmate pulls out from under his striped pyjamas a tiny piece of stale rock hard bread.

"Take it, take it, my friend, I picked it up in the kitchen today when no one was looking...take it. You must. You must live!"

The other looks at the morsel longingly, but then reluctantly holds up a bony hand in a gesture of refusal.

"I can't. I can't take it."

"Why? Why not? If you're concerned about me I am fine...I am strong...and I will get more tomorrow. Don't worry about me."

"No, its not that. I'm gluten intolerant."

"You're what...?"

"Gluten intolerant. So bread makes me sick."

"Well forgive me for saying this but....you're dying anyway. So how much sicker can it make you?"

"No, I mustn't, else I will feel terrible in a few hours time."

"If you're still alive in a few hours time..."

"Yes...." Long sigh.

"Wait" says the other, "we bribed Shpitzkopf. With a French postcard Berelowitz somehow kept hidden. And you won't believe what we got...."

With trembling hands he shifts one of the floorboards slightly and takes out a child sized chipped enamel mug.

"Milk...MILK! Careful, don't spill it now....."

He extends the precious liquid to his friend, who licks his dry cracked lips, and, with tears in his eyes, slowly shakes his head.

"I can't....I can't" he moans."I'm lactose intolerant."

"What rubbish are you talking"

"No really, I am, milk gives me terrible stomach pains"

"Stomach pains mummik pains....you prefer hunger pains?"

"No, but what can I do?"

"What can you do? You can eat something....even if it is just a tiny teaspoon....here, this will get you through the selection tomorrow."

He feels around inside his pant leg, and triumphantly produces what is indeed a tiny tin teaspoon which has a tiny amount of something unrecognisable on it. He thrusts it at his friends tightly pursed lips, but his friend recoils to a safe distance before asking

"what is it?"

"this...this my friend, is peanut butter!"

____________

COMIC SKETCH - FAMILIES

A 74 year old man is busy dying in a palliative care home.

We begin on the dying man, whose eyes are shut. He looks peaceful enough. He camera tracks down to his chest and lower abdomen, where no movement at all is detectable. It lingers there, and after a while there is a slight almost imperceptible movement. We linger there long enough to establish that there is slow regular breathing. The camera moves back up his chest and then, in extreme CU, runs down an arm, past a canulla, down to his hand which is being held by another hand, that of Sally, his daughter. She is seated next to him, her eyes also closed, just being with him. We stay with them for a while, this special father daughter tableaux of closeness and connection.

There is a click of the room door opening. We move off Sally to find Lily, her older sister, entering the room. Their body language indicates there is a lot of tension between them. Lily seems to be disappointed that her father is not alone. They greet each other somewhat coolly.

Down With Catipalism

When I was a student at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 1990, I had this idea for a little comic. I think I had Sting's line from his song "Englishman in New York" floating around in my head. I asked my friend Porat, who was studying fine art at Betzalel, Israel's premier art school, if he knew anyone who could draw cartoon-like illustrations and he suggested an American woman, Liz Fainberg, who was also studying at Betzalel at the time. I think she did a good job.

(Click on each panel to see whole image)

 

 

SUPPORT OUR AUSTRALIAN DRUG DEALERS

With diminished demand all over the state, drug manufacturers and dealers are doing it hard. As a patriotic Australian you can do your bit to support these hard working members of our community, who risk police persecution and chemical intoxication to ensure we have recreational drug security no matter the political climate. By buying only local and fair trade drugs, you are ensuring that the producers get more of your money, and also contributing to a greener planet, by reducing carbon miles.


DO YOUR BIT, PURCHASE ONLY TRUE BLUE LOCALLY MADE AND DISTRIBUTED MDA, ECSTACY, COCAINE AND ICE.

The Chicken Coop

I was just making supper when there was a knock on the door. Solomon, my eldest, went to hide in the chicken coop, and I went off to answer.
Before I got there, the door was smashed open. "Were  looking for Solomon Madingwane" said a young lieutenant, while his soldiers shook the wardrobe apart.
"My son" I told them, "he has not been home for three days."
"I'll tell you what", said the lieutenant, "we have to make some other house calls in this neighbourhood, but well be back just now. See if you can find him by then. If not..." He pointed threateningly at the TV.
"Also, have some tea ready. I'm thirsty."
"I want coffee" said one of the young soldiers.
"Shut up" said the lieutenant, and then added more politely, "you'll drink whatever Mrs Madingwane prepares."
They went out I fitted the various bits of door back together as best I could. Then I put the kettle on to boil. I sprinkled dirt from the floor into seven glasses, and spat into each one in turn. The tea was just cooling when there was a knock on the door.
My husband hid in the chicken coop, while I went to open. Before I could get to what remained of the door it was kicked in, and several comrades entered.
"Were looking for Abel Madingwane" said their leader, who wore a balaclava.
"My husband" I told them, "he has not been home for three days."
"I'll tell you what" said the leader, "we have to make some other house calls in the neighbourhood. We'll be back just now. Have him ready for us by then."
Their eyes fell upon the tea.
"You shouldnt" I warned them, but they drained the tea before I could stop them.
"Dont worry" they reassured me, "its for the struggle. We all have to make sacrifices you know."
They went out through the back. Abel waited two minutes, and then came into the house dusting feathers and chichen shit off his clothes.
"Solomons snoring away in the coop" he told me.
The soldiers came back in through the broken door, which flapped loosely on its hinges.
"Vie is hierdie hoender ?" said the lieutenant, and all the soldiers laughed.
He's my husband", I explained, "he was just repairing the chicken coop."
"So he's a Madingwane ?" queried the lieutenant.
"I am Abel Madingwane" said Abel, drawing himself up proudly and ignoring my warning glare. More feathers scattered over the floor.
"Good," said the lieutenant, "we'll take you"
The coffee-soldier pointed out, that the warrant read S Madingwane not A Madingwane
"Viljoen" said the officer, "dont argue in front of the natives. It makes us look stupid. Give me that warrant." Painstakingly he changed the S into an A.
"Right" he said, "we'll have that tea and be off."
"I'd still prefer coffee" said Viljoen stubbornly.
"I explained that the water was just coming to the boil.
"We cant wait" said the lieutenant disappointedly, "we have to he back in the casspirs before the shooting starts."
"Wait" said Viljoen, "you haven't given her a receipt for her husband yet."
"OK" said the lieutenant, turning towards his other men, "tie him to the bed."
They tied Viljoen to the bed. In the struggle his glasses fell off and got broken. They tied us to the bed too. "Inkatha will deal with you" said the lieutenant as they hurried out.
Solomon was woken up by the gunfire. He came in and untied us. Then we all went to hide in the chicken coop. Solomon went back to sleep.
"Excuse me" said Viijoen, whose pimply chin was digging into my bosom.
"Thats all right young man", I told him, "theres plenty of room for us all.
____________________
(This little sketch was written about 1992, about a year after I returned to South Africa from Israel.)

The importance of note - taking

A client of mine recently asked to see the notes that I had been keeping of our therapy sessions, and because the Freedom of information act does guarantee the client's rights to access these notes, I (somewhat reluctantly) handed them over. The client had the following questuions re the notes.

a) Who is Lola and why did I need to call her?
b) What did 3 apples, butter, sugar and self raising flour have to do with her relationship problems?
c) Vet. Was I thinking of consulting a vet re her case?
d) Why did I scrawl "Change oil and water". Was this some kind of abstruse therapeutic metaphor?
e)Cortisone cream. She couldn't recall ever having uttered those words in a session.
f) Why had I written my signature 30 times on one page, alongside little drawings of planes and cars and stickmen?

I explained that I like to free associate when listening to clients, and that those items were indeed a record of
the precious ($200 a session) work we had been doing together.

Important Info I Learnt from the Internet - Please Share

If you get stung by a jellyfish
swim as fast as you can to shore and urinate on the affected area
if no urine is available apply a hot poultice of chammomile tea
or use two litres of battery acid per centimetre of sting
remove any traces of stingers or cystoblasts with a pair of pliers or a claw hammer
if the patient is not moving cut off the affected limb with a sharp knife
suck the poison out by applying your lips to the blow hole. be careful not to swallow any blood that may seep out from the stump.
If you have any welding experience, you may cauterize the wound if a blow torch is handy. Alternatively bathe the stump with a diet cold drink. This will sterilize the area and kill anything organic.
Try to keep the patient from twitching, as this may hasten the spread of the toxin.
If the attack occured on an isolated stretch of coast do not panic. remember there is always something you can do. Grab a lagerhead or leatherback turtle, wet it with a little ocean water, and place it on the affected area. This will numb the area, and possibly crush the patient, but the leather back will move off quickly enough. When it does use seaweed to make a tourniquet around your wedding finger, to prevent any unwhitting transmission of the virus. If driftwood is in short supply, make a fire from sea shells and burn the carcasses / paperwork / calories.
Make him or her as comfortable as possible until help arrives. Keep their head elevated and do not allow them to fall asleep.
You may serve them coffee but energy drinks containing guano should be avoided, unless they were sourced from free range albatrosses.
If you notice the patient's eyes closing tell them a joke. Tickle them. Read them an article from the newspaper. If the patient seems tense, it may be the onset of hyperthermia. in order to calm them down play them a little baroque music, or read them the meditations of Marcus Aurerelis. Reflexology can be useful, but do not overdo it as at this stage the person is likely to still be very weak.
If you have managed to capture the jelly fish put it in a biodegradable paper bag and add a pinch of worcester sauce to kep it fresh. The paramedics will need to know what make of jelly it is, in order to administer the correct anti-venom. Once they have identified it, you may release the jelly fish or consume it. However, only the pyrimidal jelly fish has a shelf life of more than three days.
Take the patients pulse every 2-3 seconds. Keep talking to them, preferably in a language they do not understand. This will stimulate the corpus collusum and make for better outcomes post surgery. When the paramedics arrive, give them a full psychosocial history and any witness statements you have been able to gather. If the patient has stopped breathing make sure you have noted the time of expiry.

The golden smart phone

Once upon a time there was a humble Uber driver and his wife who lived in a small shack with three bathrooms, a swimming pool and a tennis court. Now although they were poor, and could not afford to buy their children a new ipad every four months, they were always happy and content. When their children complained that their skiing holidays were in Japan and not in Switzerland like the wealthy kids, the couple took their children out West, to a notorious fast food company. There bloated pasty adults with tatoos and earrings and hair died shockingly pink, and equally bloated youngsters whose eyes were set deep in bulging moon faces sat devoring piles of fried potatoes, and cow meat fortified with soya and the occasional bit of horse flesh that had "mistakenly" made its way into the last delivery.

"You see" said the Uber driver, "now that's poverty. these kids have never eaten real food in their lives." But this lecture fell on deaf ears, because most of the children in the euphemistically named fine restraunt were, while chewing away, playing on the latest model mobile phones. "Very few of these kids" dad tried again, "have even been skiing. For their holidays they just go down the coast, stay in a three star resort, sometimes even a caravan park, maybe do a bit of surfing and fishing, and then head home again." This did punch through his own children's complacency, and they grew silent, contemplating the kind of dire poverty that could force people to have their holidays in a caravan parks only a few hours down the coast.

"We're sorry mom and dad" they whispered, and were unusually silent on the drive back home, hardly paying attention to "the school of rock" dvd that was playing on the little screens in the headrest. For a change junior did not begin to nag about when would they get a blu ray player in the car, and bigger screens. .

Each day the humble Uber driver would go out in his car, and wait patiently for passengers. Some days a lot of people needed lifts, other times there was no work, and the dad sat in the car, sweating and trying to keep his eyes open in the heat. he would come home and put on a brave face. How was work today, his wife would ask, when she returned from her vastly superior job as a production manager in a factory making winter coats for dogs. Same old same old he sighed. Where are the kids, his wife asked. In their rooms, I presume...haven't seen them.

They phoned Parents line.
You are number 23 in the cue. said a voice. we are experiencing unusually heavy call volumes today, but we appreciate your patience. Your query will be answered in aproximately two hours. In the meantime you may be able to find the answer to your question by going to our website, and chatting with our virtual asisstant there called Edwina.

________________________

A sunny day. A small sydney beach upon which people of all ages sunbathe, dig in the sand, throw balls, eat icecreams, flirt, and walk their dogs. Some throw balls for the dogs, others are picking up dog poo and putting it in small plastic bags, others cudle small dogs. Some dogs chase each other along the beach, or paddle out into the water to fetch balls.

Suddenly there is a whistle. Panic ensues. People call for their dogs, grab their collars, put them on leashes, tug and pull and push them into the ocean. There they swim -doggy padle - splash their way feverishly away from the shore towards deep water, as if pursued by the shark from Jaws. The camera rotates slowly off them and turns 180 degrees til it is looking up the beach. A squat man in shorts, a big Akubra hat, and an orange and green luminescent vest appears there. he has a walkie talkie on his waist. he surveys the pandemonium, and then begins striding purposefully towards the sea. he is a council ranger. he stops next to a sign and menacingly taps on an icon which shows this is a dogs-on-leash only beach.

He catches one unfortunte child with her jack russell in tow, and from his hand held machine issues her a $300 dollar fine. Name? Address? Then he moves down to where the water touches the sand, and gazes out into the distance, where the small heads of dogs and people bobbing in the surf can just be seen. Slowly and methodically he draws a plastic objct from his pant pocket and begins inflatingit. It slowly turns into an inflatable canoe. He steps in and beging to paddle out - implacably.

[ 30 metre long leashes in order to get around the "on leash" restriction ]

CUT TO:

He is far out to sea. A few metres away fom him is a man and his dog bobbing in the gentle swell. (Could be several people if budget will allow). This is a leash only beach, as the signs say. that's a 300 dollar fine and a warning. If it happens again your dog will be impounded and your dog licence revokes. Address?
Listen mate we're no longer on council property. In fact i doubt we're even in Australian territorial waters. You can't book me....this is not your jurisdiction. (they pelt him with water, jeer at him etc).
30 metres from shore  is still in LCA. I'll just wait til you come in. Fold his arm across his chest. The sun sets. they bob up and down in the dark.
Enjoying yourself mate?
(They deflate his raft?)
The nexy morning as sun rises they are all still there....

The golden smart phone

Once upon a time there was a humble Uber driver and his wife who lived in a small shack with three bathrooms, a swimming pool and a tennis court. Now although they were poor, and could not afford to buy their children a new ipad every four months, they were always happy and content. When their children complained that their skiing holidays were in Japan and not in Switzerland like the wealthy kids, the couple took their children out West, to a notorious fast food company. There bloated pasty adults with tatoos and earrings and hair died shockingly pink, and equally bloated youngsters whose eyes were set deep in bulging moon faces sat devoring piles of fried potatoes, and cow meat fortified with soya and the occasional bit of horse flesh that had "mistakenly" made its way into the last delivery.

"You see" said the Uber driver, "now that's poverty. these kids have never eaten real food in their lives." But this lecture fell on deaf ears, because most of the children in the euphemistically named fine restraunt were, while chewing away, playing on the latest model mobile phones. "Very few of these kids" dad tried again, "have even been skiing. For their holidays they just go down the coast, stay in a three star resort, sometimes even a caravan park, maybe do a bit of surfing and fishing, and then head home again." This did punch through his own children's complacency, and they grew silent, contemplating the kind of dire poverty that could force people to have their holidays in a caravan parks only a few hours down the coast.

"We're sorry mom and dad" they whispered, and were unusually silent on the drive back home, hardly paying attention to "the school of rock" dvd that was playing on the little screens in the headrest. For a change junior did not begin to nag about when would they get a blu ray player in the car, and bigger screens. .

Each day the humble Uber driver would go out in his car, and wait patiently for passengers. Some days a lot of people needed lifts, other times there was no work, and the dad sat in the car, sweating and trying to keep his eyes open in the heat. he would come home and put on a brave face. How was work today, his wife would ask, when she returned from her vastly superior job as a production manager in a factory making winter coats for dogs. Same old same old he sighed. Where are the kids, his wife asked. In their rooms, I presume...haven't seen them.

They phoned Parents line.
You are number 23 in the cue. said a voice. we are experiencing unusually heavy call volumes today, but we appreciate your patience. Your query will be answered in aproximately two hours. In the meantime you may be able to find the answer to your question by going to our website, and chatting with our virtual asisstant there called Edwina.

________________________

A sunny day. A small sydney beach upon which people of all ages sunbathe, dig in the sand, throw balls, eat icecreams, flirt, and walk their dogs. Some throw balls for the dogs, others are picking up dog poo and putting it in small plastic bags, others cudle small dogs. Some dogs chase each other along the beach, or paddle out into the water to fetch balls.
Suddenly there is a whistle. Panic ensues. People call for their dogs, grab their collars, put them on leashes, tug and pull and push them into the ocean. There they swim -doggy padle - splash their way feverishly away from the shore towards deep water, as if pursued by the shark from Jaws. The camera rotates slowly off them and turns 180 degrees til it is looking up the beach. A squat man in shorts, a big Akubra hat, and an orange and green luminescent vest appears there. he has a walkie talkie on his waist. he surveys the pandemonium, and then begins striding purposefully towards the sea. he is a council ranger. he stops next to a sign and menacingly taps on an icon which shows this is a dogs-on-leash only beach.
He catches one unfortunte child with her jack russell in tow, and from his hand held machine issues her a $300 dollar fine. Then he moves down to where the water touches the sand, and gazes out into the distance, where the small heads of dogs and people bobbing in the surf can just be seen. Slowly and methodically he draws a plastic objct from his pant pocket and begins inflatingit. It slowly turns into an inflatable canoe. He steps in and beging to paddle out - implacably.  
[ 30 metre long leashes ]

Plausible quotations and statistics

Chief archeologist Yigal Alon-Tamir says that hundreds of two-thousand year old chocolate coins minted by the Maccabees have been discovered at a dig near the town of Shechem. His team have left a few of the coins uneaten, so that expert chocleteurs can analyse them and discover what's changed in chocolate making techniques in the last 2 300 years. "they're not bad" says Professor Alon Tamir, "sure a little stale, but nothing worse than the kinds of things you'll find on the shelves of petrol station shops or 24/7 convenience stores."
____________________________ 

One out of five children between the ages on 9-17 has a diagnosable mental disorder....(i.e it is possible to pathologize and pin a label on at least one out of five children, generally as a way of handling the parent's or teacher's unresolved anxieties and blind spots)

Twelve things they don't tell you about Sydney before immigration

1) Lice infestations are a regular occurence at Sydney schools - they love the moist warm climate, and we've had at least 10 delousing sessions in our home.

2)Australian drivers have never heard of turning right from the middle of the road, so if you want to go left you have to patiently wait even tho' you could have gone five minutes ago if the d-ckheads in front of you would move over 5 cms

3)You may have to take a number and wait in a queue even just to buy a pair of shoes, as happened to us on our last school shoe shopping expedition

4)The police and justice systems can be incredibly petty, punitive, inflexible and myopic, and are often about income generation or power as protecting and serving citizerns. Take one small example: On the 19th of May 2012 we decided to pull our bicycles out of the garage where they had been gathering dust for six months or so. We put on our old bike rack and drove to Centennial Park. Inside we dove along at 15km/h looking for a parking space when a siren went on behind us and we noticed a flashing light. We pulled over and a highway policeman emerged and told us that our bikes were obscuring our license plate and he couldn't read the B and the P at the beginning and end of the plate. He explained that this was a violation and that the plate needed to be on the bikes. I said - truthfully - that we had been using the bike rack for 4 1/2 years (and had driven to parks and campsites all over and outside of Sydney) and had never been stopped or been told this before. He disappeard into his car and emerged a few minutes later with a $353 fine. I was suitably shocked and depressed as was my wife. "Its punitive" I said to him,"if someone had just told us it was not allowed we would have taken apropriate action. Now, out of the blue we suddenly get this huge fine. Can't you just give us a warning?"
"No there's nothing I can do" he reassured us, "the best advice I can give you is to write to the state debt recovery service and see if you can get it changed to a caution." And hedrove off, leaving us to enjoy our Saturday afternoon cycle. And there you have it Ladies and Gentleman - the incorruptable and fearless nature of the boys in blue! 



5) Mainstream Australia is terrified of emotional depth, complexity and ambiguity, so an affirmitive response to a request you make will be closely followed by a declarative "no worries" or "no dramas" - not that anything you said was likely to give rise to worry or drama. When a young Australian is going to send you an email they "just flick it over to you." All is sweetness and light and civility, the repressed and dark angry underbelly generally only emerges when sufficient alcohol has been imbibed, or groups of young men or women find themselves together and the nanny state (in the form of teachers/police etc) is temporarily hidden.

A while back there was an outraged article in an Australian Tabloid about Indian call centre workers who had been told that "Australians dote on their dogs, they're lazy, they love sport, and there's no point in phoning them on a Friday night because they'll all be drunk." No comment.

5)Even tho you have no intention of procreating with the guy at the garage or cash register, he'll still call you mate - and this holds true even if he's only been here a short whil a few days from Iran or Afghanistan or Bangladesh, because everyone wants to be accepted into Australianess (= the Anglo Celtic stereotype thereof)

6) Capitalism and inauthentic relationships based on commodification are more matured here then they are in South Africa, so commercial interactions will often be sealed with a ghastly and synthetic "enjoy your day". That this is generally proffered sincerely is even worse, indicating ho conditioned people are in this society and how alienated from anything that they call deviance and I call living pathlessly (with a nod to Krishnamurti). As for calls to call centres where humans transformed into automatons follow ghastly scripts and you are processed like a sausage by the plodding machinery of corporate idiocy, the synthetic nature of these interactions would be enough to make poets and gurus weep out of compassion for the victims on both end of the line (or signal in these digital days.)

7)Service is non-existent in many large Australian retailers, or incoherent, or unbelievably slow. In general the wheels turn slowly here, except for tax rebates, which ar processed remarkably quickly, so yarmulkes off to the Australian Tax Office for both fleecing and clothing us with remarkable efficiency. In general getting a passport or a mediacare (national health insurance) rebate is incredibly quick and efficient compared to the developing world nightmare of South Africa. But almost everyone in Sydney seems time poor, and most things (commutes, shops, finding parking, public transport, school days, work, finding who to complain to) take an inordinately long time.

8) Sydney housing is amongst the most expensive in the world, and many lower middle class families spend more than 50% of their incom on exorbitant rents or exorbitant mortgages.

9)Australia is one of the most regulated countries in the world and nothing happens here without a plethora of red tape. If you are an entrepreneur, don't expect to make easy money; all the loopholes are plugged, and many many hard working and capable middle class professionals an entrepreneurs struggle to save or to grow their worth.

10) The big four banks here often put up their rates on mortgages even when the Repo rate has not gone up, and what's more, when the repo rate falls the banks Commonwealth, ANZ (infamous for its financing of coal fired power stations) NAB and St George don't pass on the rate cuts to their clients - they care more about their shareholders than their customers, which I guess is how mature capitalism works. (So you 'have' to become a shareholder yourself if you don't want to get too screwed.)

Another strange and blighted thing which emblifies the inflexible in-the box systems based approach here is that if you are self employed it is much more difficult to get a mortgage, and you have to provide a lot of info to get one, even if you can show you have been paying rent consistently for four or five years, rent greater than your proposed mortgage repayments will be.

By contrast if you are formally employed, and can produce 3 or 4 current payslips, its quite easy to get a mortgage, even though you may be retrenched or fired or resign the day after getting the mortgage, and be unable to make the repayments.

Invention dumber lebenty seben

Having trouble keeping floppy adolescents upright? Are you a parent whose child flops on you in shule? R U a teacher who faces rows of slumped adolescents staring blankly at their forearms or school jumpers. We have come up with a cost effective solution, Presenting: The teenage hangar:


We did not have a teenager to model the device readily available ( we could not get them off the computer) so instead we used a more rigid stand-in (forgive the pun), but one which nevertheless should give customers a good idea of the potential of the new device.

Fee Structure For Counsellors and Therapists

In keeping with the trend towards the commodification of everything, and as a service to both counsellors and their clients, we have created an itemized tariff structure which makes it very easy for both parties to know exactly where they sit.

Basic services

Passive listening - $ 5.00
Active Listening - $15.00
Collusion, flattery, and lying - $20.00
Unconditional positive regard without empathy - $50.00
Unconditional positive regard with empathy - $70.00

depression - - $100.00
anxiety and depression - $150.00
anxiety with depression and suicidal ideation - $200.00

Ambivalence - $50.00 or $70.00

Transference
Positive transference - $20
Negative tranbsference - $200.00

Conter transference - 10% discount

Reflection - youre wondering what the rates are?

Psychoses
visual hallucinations - ^&@#(*&%*
auditory hallucinations - 200 rupees

insomnia - night sessions available, special rates

projection - this will be discussed somewhere where the illuminati cannot track us

angry outburstswithout spittle - $60.00
with spittle - $90.00
catharsis - $150.00
catharsis & allowed to assume foetal
position on floor - $300.00 (includes blanket)

Interpretations

Adlerian, Jungian or Freudian - $20/interpretaion

Kleinian - add 10$/per interpretation

(10% rebate on invalid interpretations)

Seating arrangements

Economy chair without arm rests - $20.00/hour
Comfortable wing back chair - $35.00/hour
empty chair - the price will be negotiated with the chair itself
Throne (for narcissists) - $70.00/hour

Those with low self esteem may sit on the floor for free


Optional Accessories

Tissues - 5c per tissue
Lavender scented tissues - 10c per tissue

Truthtelling - priceless

The Witch of Washington

See also Let's do coffee sometime

Helen Joseph, the witch of Washington:

"Go back, go back, go back to your ghettoes
go back go back to your auto de fe
go back go back to your forced conversions
go back go back to your cossack pogroms
go back go back to your landless pale
go back go back to your second class status
go back go back to your yellow stars
go back go back to your blood libels and expulsions
go back go back to the state theft of your property
go back go back to your Chmielniki massacres
go back go back to your cattle trucks and pile of spectacles
go back go back to your death camps and crematoria
go back and vanish from my sight
like a wisp of smoke that never was

_________________

Dictator giving a speech, a tirade against some target group, in subtitles appears a translation of what he really means:
(my mommy never loved me, she was cold and remote)
(my father beat me mercilessly)
(I drowned a few puppies but soon decided it would be better to kill anyone who didn't agree with me) etc etc

__________________

animation:


psychologist as a deflated balloon, thin and rather scawny, but slightly buoyant, able to float a few feet above the chair
a client comes in , they are a huge and mishapen inflated balloon, a small rush of words leaks out as they uncomfortably settle down in chair, words leaking onto carpet, thenthere is a huge rush of words as the mouth of their baloon connects with the therapists "mouth"...thir words get pushed into the therapist, injected, they slowly deflate, but the therapist is now much bigger, filled with the rush ofwords, the therapist tries to disengage, thrashes around a bit, eventually the client baloon stahggers out, but in passing another huge and misshapen balloon enters, again there is an exchange of words, as the client uses their ovipositor to lay their words in the therapist, by the third client the therapist is no longer buoyant but weighed down in the chair, and almost as large as the client, by the fourth they are ready to explode and have begun leaking words themselves....

cut to

supervision. The leaking therapist is unburdening with a supervisory baloon, who grows a little bigger with each supervisory session

cut to

the supervisor is getting supervision from...

_________________________
Can a "corrective emotional experience" include sex with the therapist? Not if the therapist will be guilt racked afterwards, apologetic, and wanting some kind of ritual humiliation at the hands of the client in order to atone.

DOCS report on 43 year old man

DOCS (Departmet of Child Services) were asked to intervene in the following case

A 43 year old man was found in his unit in a severely neglected state. Mr N, who the social worker had had phone calls about previously (from Mr N's wife) was unshaven, still in the suite he wore to the office, his tie askew and his glasses so dirty she was amazed that he managed to see the reality show he was watching. Mr N was eating straight out of a 4 litre icecream tub, and bits of iceecream had got on to his shirt and socks. Notes the social worker: the apartment was in a poor condition, with books, papers and bits of Meccano and Monopoly scaterred over every surface. Mr N's nails were long and uncut, he needed a good haircut, and judging from his body odour, he had not bathed for several days.

The only adult in the flat, Mr N's wife, was snoring in bed all the while the social worker attempted to interview Mr N, who answered in monosyllbles or with feelble liitle waves of the spoon he was holding in his hand,, sending droplets of melted vanillaicecream onto the social worker. Upon being pressed, he insisted that he was ok, and that "everything would be all right as long as he didn't have to go into work tomorrow."

Although no thorough medical examination was done of this first visit, the social worker noted that Mr N was rather corpulant, and displayed a great deal of flatulence. There are some questions as to whether Mr N is being fed a nutritionally sound diet. Mr N's children remained fast asleep while the social worker was there but at one stage Mr N's wife awoke, padded through to the lounge and asked Mr N when he was going to do the dishes. The social worker managed to clarify that Mr N goes to work, comes home and is immediately set to work on a variety of domestic chores, but there were no other overt signs of abuse.

Interim reccomendations

That Mr N have a bath, a nail trim and a shave
That Mr N's tv watching time be reduced and happen earlier in the evening
That Mr N be removed to a place of safety where he can socialise with other middle aged dads
_______________________

Useful form letters:

Letter of demand for late birthday present

Dear So and so

We have noticed that your birthday present owing to us is now overdue by two weeks. Should said birthday present not be on our doorstep, wrapped, and with apropriate card by the date on this letter of demand, we....

Letter of demand for late wedding present

We have noticed that your wedding present owing to us is now seventen years and three months overdue. Please redress this issue immediately or we will be forced to hand the matter over .

Alices misadventures in 'stralialand

My experience as an immigrant has been that the Australian networks are reasonably impenetrable. This has been the experience of numerous immigrant acquaintances as well. ( Said he self-justifyingly.)

I have so far sent out in the region of 100 job applications. In response I have received

a) in many instances zero response
b) polite formulaic thanks but no thanks letters
c) two interviews.

The first interview was for an internet producer role at the Ted Noffs Foundation. I arrived early for a two pm interview, and was then made to wait for an hour before having a short and immensely casual interview with the grandson of the founder, one Matt Noffs (Its a VERY family run foundation, many of the executive staff are family members - just the kind of foundation I would structure myself.) Matt looked as if he were acquainting himself with my CV for the first time, and after a few nowhere minutes where I attempted to find out what they were looking for so that I could be it, we rose to part company.
"Its very unprofessional to make someone wait for an hour with no explanation, for an interview that was scheduled at 2pm" (me)
"well someone has to be unprofessional around here. See ya" (Matt)

Who knows? We may indeed see each other one day, coming out of train station or while crossing the street to get to an urgent appointment. So I took Matt's passing shot as a benedictive prophecy.

The second interview was with a company called ruralco, which has many rural retail outlets and a number of agriculturally based busineses such as stock feeds, fertilisers, farm insurance etc. During a reasonably lengthy interview (which I had prepared quite thoroughly for) with the IT manager and the marketing manager - Cameron - it emerged I'd been a teacher for two years.

"What did you teach" asked the IT manager.
I hesitated for a moment. "Jewish Studies" I blurted out, after considering saying something suitably vague like 'languages' or 'theology.'
I made quick eye contact before averting my gaze again, to try and guage how this snippet of information was being received. To their credit neither of them missed a beat. We continued shmoozing like old friends, and when I felt things were winding down, I asked if they - Ruralco - had any factory farms.

After being assured they did not, I mentioned that I was vegetarian, and that I would be bringing my own sausages to any staff sausage sizzles they might be holding (for the uninitiated a sausage sizzle is an Australian cultural event where sausages - ground up animal muscle encased in a synthetic or natural casing and generally flavoured with a plant derived flavouring agent - are heated on a (usually gas) cooking device which is wheeled outdoors for the occassion. Said sausages may be served on processed white flour rolls with sauces made from tomatoes or mustard seeds mixed with vinegar).

I'm not sure it was before or after my questions and declaration that I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Cameron had begun shuffling his papers - a reasonably clear indication that my allotted time was up and that time wasters should know when to move on. I dutifully said I had no more questions and was jovially seen to the door. I expected to get a thanks but no thanks message the next day but instead there was nothing - just a great big vacuum which left me wondering; was it my ambiguity about the commute? (it would have been about 2 hours 20 a day). My South Africaness? My (gasp) Jewishness? My vegetarianess? My Imanuelness? Was I too forward? Too backward? Too sideways? Or none of the above?

In the absence of data the mind is very creative with what it makes up - but two weeks later the matter was semi put to rest when the HR recruiter - an ex South African who had sent me to the interview sent me another email which clarified things, if not a lot, at least somewhat. It said "they still have not decided. Am leaving job today to become a wedding planner."

Not a bad idea. Perhaps I'll consider that option for myself as well, if the next 100 CVs I send out prove to be similarly unproductive. In the meantime the bills continue to stream in, and I mantain the daily routine of the landed gentry, while sometimes. at night, the repressed fear arises and keeps me tossing and turning wondering how it will resolve itself.

Comic Material - short skits

See also 9 ideas and Premises and more-potentially-comic-material

Call centre skit #3

A man is eating a  hurried breakfast at a small breakfast table. he rises, kisses his wife on the cheek when she enters, what's on your agenda? I'm going to phone the callcentre and get the account sorted out....
she dials, gets the irritating optus music that they haven't changed for years and years, interrupted regularly by messages such as "the call centre is experiencing usually high volumes, we appreciate your patience and will be with you as soon as possible" she puts it on speaker and does the dishes, she hangs up the washing, sits down with coffee and does some stuff on her computer,
cmon she says, I need to go out
she does an exercise routine / stretches / runs on a treadmill/
mows the lawn...looks atthe clock it says noon, she has to go out.
reluctantly she hangs up, heads out to the car, sitting in the car, hesitates , then dials a no.on mobile and gets the same music through the blue tooth. She drops off a parcel, meets with a business associate, explains she's een holding for hours so would friend mind if she just leaves phone on, does some shopping, goes to the post office, picks up kids, gets home. its no 3pm. walks the dog, come s home agin it s 4pm she reluctantly ends the call. Brings in the washing , makes supper, dials the number again, supervises some homework, husband comes home, mends a button, asks her husband to be on phone duty while she showers,gets out of the shower, yawns, watches the news, they get into bed, husband falls asleep, the phone is still playing its music, she falls asleep with light still on, the phone falls from her hand to the floor.
 "hello, this is raphael, how may I be of excellent service to you today"



Call centre skit #2

A man is bought into an investigation / torture room by two burly guards. He is handcuffed and has a sack on his head. They roughly hurl him to the floor, and exit, slamming the door. He lies there groaning. We cut to

Two agents are discussing what to do with the victim:
should we give him the water treatment?
Nah, he's too tough for that
Should we give him the shock therapy....
might work, but we'v been told by the boys upstairs not to leave any marks...
so then its the...?
I'm afraid so...poor bastard

CUT back to

one of the agents enters the torture room. he removs the hood,almost gently, and the hancuffs.
Right then, you're free to go.
The man struggles up heads for the door.
There's just one small thing before you leave us. We need you to change this phone for us. Its the wrong model. We ordered a Galaxy 8000 and they sent us a Galaxy 800. Here's the toll free number. Good luck.

he leaves: the man dials, gets an indian accent, they ask security questions, he gets put on hold piped music, stage lights on him go own but piped music plays in background albeit softer, we cut to numerous other skits, we return to him, he's till on hold, clearly much time has passed (for eg. he has a beard), he's still holding, someone answers with a phillipino accent, they ask him the same security questions, what was your first school? what was the name of the street of your first house? he has to spell out the answers, they spell it wrong...  its like starting from the beginning, once he's explaind they tell him thy'll just put him on hold, new terribly irritating pipd music that just goes on and on...he's slumped in defeat...no, plase, don't put me on hold, please stay with me

the two agen/scientists observe him through a key hole, detached, dispassionately

poor bastard, he'll crack soon etc etc
__________

car skit, man return to partking bay at 1h55 in a 2hr bay, ranger is there with a stopwatch waiting,
"beat you to it mate"
but his car won't start.
the ranger wants to fine him
you can see the bloody car won't start
The bay in front of him becomes available
Help me push her then
the two men push the car into the next bay
I got lucky that time eh?

___
Not only can I not pull the rabit out of the hat, I've mislaid the rabit

_____________
Women comes into vet:
he's listless, been depressed, doesn't take any joy in anything anymore, just lies around the house hardly moving, not eating, hardly drinks, he's half blind and arthritic...
Vet: well it sounds like the end of the road, (filling up a syringe) do you want to be in the room when...
she: no if its all the same to you I'd rather not..
he: I understand...Johannes could you please..
. the women exits
the door opens, Johannes wheels in an old guy slumped in his wheelchair.
_________________________________________________

anyways little old lady, little old man, and little old dog limp their way into vet. The old couple hold hands - lots of cutaways of beautiful old, gnarled athritic hands. Sometimes one had goes down to pat the little dog - a daschund say, in a little winter coat - whose leg trembles uncontrollably. (Perhaps this parallels a tremor in the old man's leg)

eventually they get to see the vet. The old lady does the speaking. he's gone off his food. He can hardly walk. athritis everywhere. the termor's getting worse. We've both discusssed it and we think its best. With each point she makes we cut from her to her husband, who nods in agreement. Are you sure, the vet says. We're sure, she answers. Again the old man nods his assent. With a long sigh/groan he sits himself down. Rests his chin on his walking stick or walker - head to heavy to carry. There are tears in his eyes. there are tears in her eyes. the dogs eyes are also rheumy.

Should I piut him on the table so that you can say goodbye more easily, asks the vet. The couple nod. The vet scoops the daschund up and gently places him on the table. The old man struggles up again, holds onto the metal table for support, bends down to kiss the dog. The vet tells them he'll be back in a moment. The couple look long and deep into each other's eyes. the vet wheels a drip (iv) in on a long metal stand. We cut to their hands which are tightly squuzing each other. then they gently soften and release each other.

I'm sorry says the old lady, I can't. I'll wait outside. You're sure it'll be painless?

Just like falling asleep says the vet

he'll be fine.

She looks at the old man and the dog.

Thank you for everything, she says, and slowly shuffles out the door. We leave with her, as the vet fills a syringe with pentobarbital. The door closes on the old man, now sitting again, and the little dog, as the vet wheels the iv stand between the two.

the old woman stands in the waiting area, staring blankly at bags of dogfood and a wall chart about intestinal parasites. The minute hand of the clock on the wall shifts. the owner of a cat in a crate soothes the cat. The surgery door opens and the vet emerges.

He went peacefully, says the vet, do you want to see him one more time?

The old lady shakes her head. I think we'll just go home....I need to lie down.

Of course says the vet. Will you two get home ok?

The old lad y nods.

All right says the vet.

He goes back into the surgery and after a moment re emerges with the daschund on its lead. the final shot is of the old women and daschund tottering along the pavement (sidewalk) together, making their way home.

NOTES

the dialogue between vet and old lady could set it up as darkly humerous, depending on the ailmenst she lists for eg "he's incontinent. he's half deaf. he farts all the time. hardly functions.bangs into things. his teeth are rotten and his breath is foul...

also the reveal could be handled differently for eg, she goes back into the surgery where both the old man and dog are motionless, the old man slumped over his walker, the dog motionless on the metal table. we could pan from one to the other, and back again...both seem lifeless, cutaway to the vet's comforting hand on her arm, "i can arrange the burial" says the vet, she nods, o/s we hear a snore, pan back to the dog whose chest rises a millimetre.... then cut to her and dog heading home

I often joke to Viv, when my body is feeling decrepit, that she should take me to the vet and have me put down....this is a kind of extension of that. Anyway it makes me smile...a somewhat grim and self deprecating smile, but also a recognition that man and beast share the same fate....and on that  note I recommend a very poignant story of Herman Charles Bosman's called Unto Dust

_________________
When I drive I scan the road repeatedly
for cyclists
pedestrians
people turning right from the wrong lane
attractive women with large breasts
____________________________

When all seems dark and grey
there's always coffee
_________________________
Black screen, sound of bubbling water

VO: what guy doesn't dream of his own harem. Of being the only man, surrounded by lucscious women all ready to serve and do his bidding
slit on screen, bits of bodies, giggles, splashing he lies there, its too good to be true, CU as he slowly rubs his eyes, keep the fantrasy going for a while longer, and then ...
the REVEAL
Huge sheilas, boiled red sheilas, meaty 110 kilo sheilas, freckled obese sheilas, train mechanic sheilas on steroids, have occupied the Jacuzzi and someone is going to suffer
_________________________________________________
THIS COULD DO WELL AT JEWISH THEATRE SPORTS

Rabbi tries to get his English speaking congregants to do a call and response prayer with him:
"Please repeat each line after me."
He starts off with relatively simple lines, but eventually the words get more unintelligible, alien to the English ear, and unpronouncable. He looks at them
Come on people - you can do better than that (perhaps there is a faint hint of antagonism between rabbi and his congregation)
eventually it ends in a chaotic shambles, with loyal congregants doing their best to chime in the odd syllable whenever they can....
_____________
Version 2:
The rabbi is actually giving them a bunch of insults in Hebrew, for example
"you're all a bunch of pompous dickheads"
"if I didn't need the salary I would be out of here like a shot" etc etc

The congregants revenge:
The rabbi has to read out all the names of the deceased before mourner's kaddish. He is given a list of increasingly complicated and unpronouncable names, for example:

TEOPHILA KODJAGEOZIAN
TIBERIO SLONOMOWOWITZKY
HERSZ Simon- Bratherswaite Sendrover
etc etc etc.

Do a short film on the absurdities of suburban congregational life.
_______________________________________

Song for call centres" "It'll be just like starting over"

Each person you speak to seems to work desperately alone, or for a different company - as if each company employee exists in a separate universe. Good stand up material. See also

Short story: "panic attacks are a pain in the bumb."
_____________________

Poster of women in dress shop holding up mirror for female customer so she can examine her posterior: "Prepare to meet thy end"