Useless body parts.

I'm beginning to wonder why my body hates me. Without disclosing my age, I have been plagued for many years by malfunctioning organs and brittle bones. On Saturday I am off to have my tonsils extracted, which should be a right laugh. Coupled with my recent wisdom teeth, it's a wonder there's room for anything in my mouth (hardy har har).

Anyway, that got me thinking. Are we slowly creating obsolete organs as we evolve? I mean, I know tonsils are not organs, but you know what I mean. Apendix, wisdom teeth, we have an extra kidney that we can live without. I wonder if soon we'll just have one digestive organ, like a large vat with a sorting pump. Or maybe I played too much Voodoo Vince.

Anyway, it's fucking cold. Zelda jumper, away!

A short poem.

Hello friends,

I'm currently indulging in the monster that is The Complete Poems of Thomas Hardy, which I bought for three dollars from a second-hand book store. Let me assure you that it was worth it's weight in gold, his poems are beautiful and relative, yet have class and clarity through old english. Below is a short poem found within.

Moments Of Vision

A sense that, in some mouldering year,
As one they both would lie,
Made me move quickly on to her
To pass the pale thought by.

She laughed and said: 'Out there, to me,
You looked so weather-browned
And brown in clothes, you seemed to be
Made of the dusty ground!'

I don't know if this is anyones kind of thing, but I love his poetry with a passion.

Anyway, I best lose myself in study again. I hate the middle of the year.

Cheeri-o.

Fight or Flight; Is it relevant?

Hello readers,

How are you? Fantastic. I hope you have enjoyed a short easter break if you were one of the lucky people to have one. If not, keep your hopes up, in Australia we find an excuse to have a day off nearly every week. Perhaps the world will catch up to us, or us the world.

Anyway, I just want to let out a rant that has been trying to escape my larynx for a few days now. Recently I was out with an old school friend of mine and he ran into some of the people your mother tells you not to play with. Guy (A pseudonym he asked me to use) had had a few too many and to cut a short story shorter, he has a rather nasty bruise under his eye. I meanwhile froze up and did nothing until the whole thing was over. So this obviously started me thinking on the topic of fight or flight.

Obviously back then it was taken as it was - you fight or you flee. But, as all things are these days, these words are representations of a number of different responses. In an argument, for example, one could persist heavily, almost angrily, or simply back-out or say nothing. (Note: Perhaps apathy is the new flight?) In any case, I have always thought there was a third stance, when you are caught between the two. And I find it amazing that a response controlled by the primal, instinctive side of our nervous system can be abruptly interrupted by the human condition; that is, indecisiveness. I thought that when it all boiled down to it I would have an immediate response. I guess I was wrong.

I'd love to hear about your stories/thoughts/plans.

Take care of yourselves, fight is not always the best.

- Oscar