Steal these ideas!

Did you see that film?
Which one?
That Italian one...or maybe it was Yugoslavian
He goes somewhere, they meet, then she comes backtell me more
it was by that director, you know the one who also did that film about the war, Golub, Hiroslav was it, maybe Miroslav
ah yes, i think i know, it was called the lost, or the damned
yes, something like that...the forgotten maybe. Anyway this one was very good. After they leave it turns around completely and both of them discover each other's past.
Was that the one with Marcellioni?
I think so....Marcellioni...Martrevioni...something like that. He was superb. And at the end the both leave.
Silence
they're making some amazing stuff these days,eh?

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slovakian vs slovenian...never quite sure where they are...ok slovakia must have been Checheslovakia, but was slovenia transylvania. or am i getting completely mixed up?
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A therapist is seeing someone in prison, a sociopath, who has been ordered into therapy, and wants them to become soft and vulnerable. But he knows that in the abnormal context of prison it is taking away the shield and armouring that protects them, and leaving them "naked", so to "heal" the client is to place them in danger. Another dimension is that the prison authorities exert great pressure on the therapist to collude with their judgement, to slap a label on the client so that they can put him into a higher security wing or remove certain priviledges.

As they explore the client's past, with a focus less opn what he did and more opn what was initially done to him...
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VARIATION

A Jewish therapist/psychologist with a young neo-Nazi or Moslem ganster who has been ordered into therapy after killing a man who he thought was Jewish.At first there is complete non-compliance, while the therapist wrestles with his own demons (a son who suicided). Quite early in the process the young man realises the therapist is Jewish and hurls a string of abuse at him. The therapist tells their supervisor they cannot continue, but then regrets this decision and decides to continue:

I don't want you to abuse me
Fuck you Jew cunt
[Now how does he repond? with a feel good for the audience physical assertion of his boundaries as per Robyn Williams in Good Will Hunting, or a more subtle response....?]
For example he leaves the room, and the client has to come for every session and sit there on his own for 50 minutes..which he does for five or so sessions, each time abusing the therapist, each time the therapist gets up and leaves, eventually the client stops with the abuse because he is bored, so they sit facing each other in silence.
Lets see if we can find something we can agree on, says the therapist, fishing for something on which to begin building a therapeutic alliance...
We can agree that you're a Jew cunt. He folds his arms defiantly across his chest. The psychologist gets up....
wait..wait...sit down
The psychologists sits
You married, eventually the client offers?
If I were married what would that mean to you?
Nothing, I was just making conversation. But if you're going to do that
psychology bullshit on me I won't.
The therapist considers this:
Yes I'm married
Long time
17 years...do you call that long?
Yes that's long.
Why do you ask?

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Children, along with water proofing and stranger danger classes (ironical since most abuse happens in the family from perpetrators familiar to the recipient of the abuse) could be given advertisement proofing training as well 
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More notes on Australia

Immigration To Australia

Year one: busy busy
Year two: zolpidem
Year three: zoloft
Year four: metrol beta blockers
Year five: steroids for haemarhoids and Cymbalata for everything else

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"Can I speak to Alison please?"
"I'm sorry she's not at her desk at the moment"
Ok , could you ask her to phone me please
"Would you like to tell me what its about"
"No I fukking well wouldn't."
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Because I wanted to get away from Crime and incompetence in SA
I now have to put up with anal bureacrats who hate creativity and spontanaiety with a passion
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Thank you G?d
for being in Australia
thank you G?d
for bicycles
thank you G?d
for Yoga and rain
thank you G?d
for my so called mistakes

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Australia's synagogues
are its shopping malls
horse racing courses
and stadia
where its people try to still
with forgetting and numbness
the hunger for more
but if someone gives me a job
I will stop complaining

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While I have found some establishment Australian poetry (poetry written in Australia?) fresh and clever, I find much of it to be technically acomplished, but emotinally flat and instantly forgettable - soul less would be the metaphorical descriptor that comes to mind. Which probably says as much about me and my disinterest in recasting myself as Australian (whatever that might be - is Australian an Imam in Lakemba or is it a Tamil Tiger refugee making their way in Adelaide??...answer it is both, as well as the Aboriginal inhabitants and Anglo invaders)

( despite the tokenistic curtsies and nods in the direction of multiculturalism, the public domain here is still dominated and grounded in one discourse, one set of assumptions, one representation of normative reality) which is largely that of secularized English speaking Christianity - so from mainly Anglo TV presenters, to the temporal orientation points of Christmas and Easter, to the normalization of meat eating and heterosexuality and alcohol consumption and horse racing - the ideas about what is Australian still trump who actually lives in Australia, and the visibly or substantially different still live their differences in the safe and subterranean burrows of the private domain )

Message in a bottle

Hello from darkest sydney
where nothing happens very slowly
but perhaps not as slowly as it doesn't happen
in Cairns or September
who knows?
its enough to drive you to Bhuddism or Bretslavism
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Things I l loathe about Australia
its diffident complacency
its bureaucrats and civil srvants trained to think inside (the bottom left hand corner not exceeding 5cm of ) the box

box
its aversion to risk, its do it by numbers
its horse racing beer drinking war on fish tv
its blonde haired presenters, its fear of the depths
its do it by the book robotic pretence

Things I like about Australia
its diffident complacency
its bureaucrats and civil sevants trained to think in the lid of the
box
its aversion to risk, its do it by numbers
its horse racing beer drinking war on fish tv
its blonde haired presenters, its fear of the depths
its do it by the book robotic pretence



Australian history begins in Southern India
Australian history begins in Ireland
Australian history begins in Poland and Greece and Lebanon and South Africa
The narrative does not start here it only continues here
we all bought our lives inside us with us, and tried to continue them here as best we could, in some shape and form, even if we had lost everything there...

See also: australia-day

Making the Australian unconscious manifest

There was a police show on tv the other night, a reality based thing, and one story that was followed was 3 immigrant youths who had attacked a homeless man and filmed the attack on their cell phone cameras. The brown skinned, quite diminutive youths seemed to be immigrants from somewhere (Indonesia?/Malaysia/ East Timor ?/ Pacific Islands?) who had, I imagine, grown up in Sydney's West and spoke standard West Sydney working class immigrant English.

White police officer: You should be ashamed of yourselves
(Tranlation: I'm white, and I'm ashamed that the homeless man is also white and a drunkard or mentally ill an unkempt and dysfunctional and seemingly powerless)
Youths look suitably contrite, make noises about how they just did it so that he would leave them alone
(Translation: if we look like this, maybe the powers that be will feel sorry for us, and won't hurt us too much, now that we were stupid enough to get caught and to have filmed ourselves doing it, so we must put on our sorry faces)
Police officer: a vicious and unprovoked assault on a homeless man
(it could have been me, too many of these fukkers coming into the country, they're trash)
Youths: we didn't mean nuffink..just to scare him a bit
etc etc

Ketzarim Nosafim - more shorts

Scenario No 1:

Very polite besuited business man meets his doctor (who is of similar age and class and conditioning) in the waiting room:

How are you?

Good doctor. And you?

Well thanks. Come through (extends his arm, they enter into the doctor's room both seat thmselves)

Doctor: Family well

Yes thanks, Marge is in the UK at the moment, visiting her brother

Ah yes, Cornwell isn't it

Exactly. Excellent memory. Your family are all well?

Fine, James is deciding whether to change to actuarial science (more small talk until eventually)So what can I do for you.

Well doctor, the thing is....I've been dribbling a bit....also

Doctor: might be an enlarged prostrate ( as the examination becoms increasingly biological, the effort require to maintain the evasive small talk becomes increasingly supreme, so as the doctor has his hand in his clients bum and is feeling around they are both hard pressed to find futher topics of conversation.)

Doctor (eventually, still checking the prostrate) unusual weather we're having

Client: yes, rain at this time of year (he lets out a G-d awful fart)...sorry old chap.

Doctor: Hmmm...the blighter is slighly enlarged. Might have to do a biopsy just to check everything is shipshape. But you're strong as a horse. I'm sure everything is right as rain. But just to make sure. Anything else bothering you?

Patient. Well yes, one small thing..I had an unfortunate incident...won't elaborate...but seem to have picked up something on the old John Thomas, hurts like the devil when I pass water and

The Doctor is now examining his patient's penis and they've moved on to sport

Watch the final?

Yes, I think they deserved it

Especially with O connor playing like a bit of a dick

Yes, I alsways said they didn't have the balls to go through with it

Scenario 2. "Cleans so clear, you won't know its there"

Man watches infomercial for magnetised window cleaners. He's impressed, rushes out and buys a pair. As soon as he gets home he tries them out on his 3rd floor window. Of course the one on the outside of the window falls as soon as he tries to do a neat curve on the glass, and it drops down to where it bangs a large muscular man on the head, who picks it up and,in a rage, hurls it up and neatly towards the window the first man was trying to clean. Slow mo as it flies up into the sun and then descends like a first world war fighter, cut to interior, surprised man (who is unaware how the magnetised window cleaner has returned) watching first in delight and then in terror as it approaches, hits the glass and smashes the pane....

Scenario No. 3:

A very bustaceous young women is waiting in a busy doctor's waiting rooms. Eventually he comes through, holding a file, and calls out "Elena Mankowitz".

That's me says the young woman, and stands up. The doctor is immediately bewitched by her bosom, and can hardly tear his eyes from it (them.) He ushers her into his room, all smiles and pleasantness, and closes the door.

Please, please have a seat...or lie down if you prefer"

She sits opposite him, on the other side of his desk.

Right, what can I do for you today.

Well, doc, I have this fungus between my toes.

Any other funguses....vaginal.....(hopefully) breasts?

No. She shakes her head.

Any rashes under the breasts? Do you sweat quite a lot

Not that I've noticed. About my toe.

How old are you?

27

Excellent. You actually look younger. Weight?

56 kilos

Good, good. (Eyes her appreciatively.) You seem to be in excellent shape. Anyone in your family have breast cancer? Mom? Gran?

She shakes her head

Good. But I'm sure you do regular breast examinations anyway?

She shakes her head.

You don't....you really should. And you should have a mammogram every year
About my toe....
Yes, yes, I'll have a look now...you can get undressed behind the screen
Doctor, I just want you to look at my foot
Yes, just remove your sock and your blouse.
I'd rather just take of my sock
As you like, but its much more difficult to accurately examine you through a shirt
Its these two (she thrusts the relevant toes under his nose where he gets a whiff of the ripe camembert smell)
Yes, he says, its athletes foot, you'll need quite a strong fungicide. I'll write you a script. I just want to check these two as well ....
He takes out his stethescope and places it on her breast. He listens intently. Breathe in, Breathe out, Breathe in, Breathe Out

Are you for real....?

Of course.

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Young man stands before Mac Donalds. Low angle shot of him, clouds skudding behind him, square jawed chin foregrounded, a stubborn hero. He's about to step in. Two angels hover on each shoulder. The one is a continuous stream af advetisong images - sizzling food carefully doctored by food stylists, happy white teethed families wolfing down tubs of freedom fries and battered chicken bits, two for one incentives, a sequence typical of the never never land created by ad agencies, their crass manipulations powerful because of the torrent, the sheer volume of them, so that everything that is unconscious in us is further hypnotised, lulled into an even deeper sleep where even as we eat the tasteless food which turns to sawdust the moment it has been wellchewed, we still lookforwards to the next bite, and indeed, we do temporarily forget our sorrows while the jaws are chomping in bovine fashion on the muscles of bovines...

he shakes his head , as if to cast of the mirages that beguile him, the siren song from the warm and lit up shop, where friendly staff entice him in from the loneliness of the wind swept seats...he shakes his head again, shuts his eyes tightly, turns his head the other way, now we see the repressed bits, the abbatoir, the blood being hosed down, the bored worker kicking the animal along, the machines pumping additives into the sesame buns, the oily greasy gears on the hamburger patty machine, the industrialised greyness, the growth hormones, the bored staff of pimply adolescennts and immigrants, the robot like regulation of the "quality", the loveless nature of food cooked anonymously and served anonymously, food without ritual or tradition, plastic food, the cockroaches hiding in the cracks who venture out at 3:45 am when the night staff are slumped on their stools and the police patrols are dozing in their cars....

He turns and goes away, away from the temptation towards reality...opens a can of lentils at home, goes onto his minute urban balcony where herbs are growing in old tin cans, harvests coriander and dill and some tomatoes, chops up onion in the kitchen, and soo has them frying in some ghee...

to be continued

Scenario No 5.

Busy staff room at school. teachers are marking papers, preparing lessons etc etc. One of them is having a VERY inapropriate conversation in a very LOUD voice so that the others find it increasingly hard to remain poker faced. Could be:

"Doctor Lee please...yes I'm phoning to get my biopsy results....so its my entire rectum...OR

so the results are positive. Oh my G-d. And you're certain its the Ebola virus?

"So if its not ghonorhea then what are those pussy ulcers on the glans?

"I did not say your breasts are sagging, I said your stomach hasn't been the same since the ceasar, but that's not the reason for the affair..."

"If its not thrush or candida then why is my vagina so itchy"

"I did not rape you