Birthday Roundup

When Alexander the Great reached my age, he’d already created one of the largest empires of the Ancient World, was militarily undefeated, and had been dead for eleven years.

That’s the sort of thing that might give somebody the blues initially, but this post is optimistic. Eventually.

Also at my age:
Winston Churchill had been “First Lord of the Admiralty” for four years, and won six military medals.

Shirley Temple had been in 63 films and short features, won an Academy Award, and had been retired from motion pictures for 19 years.

Geeky Bill Gates had been a billionaire for nine years, and created a computer system that would eventually be used all over the world.

But, on the other hand:
Alexander the Great was born a prince to a warrior king, so he got a step up right there. He had the best tutors and, if the Oliver Stone picture is to be believed, the gayest upbringing the Ancient World has ever seen. Also, he wasn’t named “the Great” at birth. He was just Prince Alex until much later. Somebody needs to tell more parents that. Naming your child “Justice” or “Gorgeous” is just wishful thinking about their future. Don’t name your son “Kevin the Great” and cross your fingers.

Churchill was born to an aristocratic family. And remember the World War I ANZAC campaign at Gallipoli? That was his idea. He was removed from the Admiralty because it was such a gigantic clusterfuck.

Shirley Temple had a mother who relentlessly pushed her infant daughter into entertainment in a desperate attempt to get the fame and fortune that had been denied her. Once Shirley grew up, audiences turned their back on her, too. That wouldn’t make for great future family reunions.

Bill Gates’s Microsoft may have put computers on desks, but it created a technological world where competing products could be placed inside those computers. It lead to a decade of slow systems, crashes, delays, overblown company budgets and lower staff wages. All while Gates’s personal fortune expanded. He has around $US66 billion now.

My point is, that nothing comes from nothing. Maybe if I’d had the same upbringing and opportunities as these people, things would be different.

Everything is relative to a degree. If you’re born to a family with social connections and given a private school education, you’ll do better than somebody born in a village as the local blacksmith’s protege. For example, a female peasant in France in the 1400s could rise up to lead the country to military victories, but it helps that two men thought “this girls hears voices? Better introduce her to the local nobleman, then!” Opportunities, people.

So, I’ll celebrate my birthday happily, firstly today with a lunch with my family, then on the actual birthday with a lunch at my workplace. Because that’s who I am.

Next birthday, ask yourself, who am I, and how did I get here? The answer will be interesting, because you’re just as important as anybody else.

Big Business Bull

If I’d written the movie “Speed”, I would’ve included a character who keeps giving Keanu Reeves’s character directions on how to get back to his stop. Although I don’t usually like change, it’s not always a bad thing. If I’d written “Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace”, I would’ve a) given it a shorter title, and b) eliminated Jar Jar Binks. He’s just a really annoying character, with no redeeming characteristics. You’d think George Lucas would’ve learned that, after his disastrous movie “Howard the Duck”. For the same reason as Jar Jar, if I’d written that movie, I would’ve eliminated the character of Howard the Duck.

If I’d written “Titanic”, I would’ve focused less on “Jack” and “Rose”, and in the scene where they’re standing on the front of the boat shouting “I’m King of the Word”, I would’ve had a seagull crap on them. Or an albatross. That would’ve signified the disaster that awaits them!

That’s why the All Blacks getting an additional corporate sponsor isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If sponsors adidas charging New Zealanders more for a fan jersey than everybody else in the world during the 2011 Rugby World Cup wasn’t enough to make people realise that rugby in New Zealand has become Huge Business, then it’s this extra sponsor. AIG needed $US170 billion in bailout money from taxpayers in order to “keep the company afloat”. Once it got that money, it paid its executives, who had caused the corporation to founder in the first place, $165 billion in bonuses. Hey, it was in their contracts.

In the movie “Invictus”, that changed history for the sake of a good story. “Let’s leave out the food poisoning part”, somebody said. “It’s not so great sounding”. That’s Big Business. Just like what the All Blacks are. Our rugby team is so good, a massive corporation thinks that NZ winning its national game will make the nation forget how hugely damaging their company is.

If I’d written that script, I would’ve got another sponsor, one that doesn’t sully the All Blacks’ reputation, like current ones adidas or AIG, by actively ripping off their customers.
But, good luck finding one! And it’s just a little change. At least it’s not McDonald’s. That would’ve been massively hypocritical. “Our team are professional athletes, but they still eat crap! What are you doing wrong that you’re not great like them?”

Speaking of McDonald’s, why doesn’t Ronald McDonald have a girlfriend? Why is his best friend named “Grimace”? Why is he hanging around with a known criminal called “Hamburglar”? “Mayor McCheese” hangs around this this guy, too. Is that corporate corruption? Nothing about that place seems pure!

Anyway, AIG sponsorship is just a small change. The problem is that small changes sometimes lead to bigger changes. Like “Speed 2”. “I love the idea of the bomb on the bus. But make it a cruise ship!” That’s completely different.

Last night, after the AIG announcement, the AB’s ended their long winning streak. That’s Big Business for you.

Friendship Is Magic

My pal confessed to me this week that they’re not “obsessed”, but completely in love, with the current incarnation of “My Little Pony”.

He’s in his mid-to-late thirties, almost a total loner, and he’s a “Brony”. That’s a bro, who’s into the Ponies.

My first instinct on hearing this was that it’s only a matter of time before he’s dressing as a colourful horse and yiffing in the park with other bronies. It’s better not to Google that.

On the other hand, is it like a parent saying “my daughter likes playing with tanks, she must be a lesbian”? If people like doing something, it doesn’t hurt anybody, then what’s the problem?

Animation hasn’t been solely for children for over 20 years. Look at the Simpsons, or South Park.

My pal identifies most with Fluttershy. It’s a female, but she’s a shy and timid pegasus pony, who loves animals. She can be quite assertive when her friends are in danger.

My friend is also pretty shy and timid, exceptionally bad at expressing his emotions. At first glance, having a female role model might seem confusing, but think of this:

Growing up in the 1970s and ’80s, I wasn’t surrounded by male role models on television. It was the days of A-Team and Knight Rider, for goodness sake. But for the sparsity of male role models, there were even less for females. Who the hell did a girl watch on TV and say “yes, I’d like to grow up to be like her”? Jem and her holograms? Maybe girls did look at the males and say “yeah, I could be intelligent and resourceful like MacGuyver, just with far better hair!”

Maybe this is a growing experience for my pal. He can see Fluttershy being kind to animals, and he can learn to relate to creatures himself. When you read all the stories about psychotics who starve and beat and murder puppies, seals and yes, horses, then having a cartoon role model who teaches you to respect those who can feel pain is a pretty good thing.

I took part in a University of Auckland study in 1991 when I was a student there, that looked at the type of television children watched, and how much violence they were exposed to. As a result, it was “discovered” that TV directed at boys had a huge amount of violent acts in it. I know that violence and sex “sells”, but can’t help that noting that females are less violent than males. That’s not only because of the TV they see, but because the shows for females have characters dealing with issues while avoiding aggression.

I’ve seen the first two episodes of the latest My Little Pony series, and it’s really not for me. I just didn’t like the writing. But, in the words of my pal who’s a great fan, it doesn’t involve tentacle rape like some other shows, so that has to be a good thing.

Plus, it’s so difficult finding new friends.

Album Dropping

12-2 Saturdays, I’m on a radio show. Listeners cover a broad demographic. They don’t include my co-host’s mother or children, but at least some (not a majority) of my imaginary friends tune in.

We feature New Zealand musicians, the vast majority of whom have released albums. Last Thursday, I was asked by the show’s host to attend one of those release events.

It was at a strip club.

Due to start at 8, I turned up at 7.40. The guy at the door let me in because it’s free entry before 10, as long as I drank. I went straight to the bar.

I requested a handle of beer, and the woman brought out a jug, asking “would you like this, or a large?” I went for the regular.

The music was pumping loudly as I sat at the end of what I suppose is called a girating-table. Luckily, sport was playing on a TV nearby.

There were two naked girls on the stage, pole-dancing. One was actually pole-dancing, the other one just held on and stroked herself. I noted throughout the night that many had lots of tattoos. I don’t know whether they were to cover wounds. One girl had an interesting round bruise on her bottom.

A friend of mine txted and suggested I buy tip-money, otherwise I’d just look like a weirdo hanging out and drinking. I figured I’d appear that way anyhow, but I got $20 worth. She also advised I put the notes in my mouth and wait for girls to take them out with their breasts, but I decided against that.

I asked a couple of guys in front if they were there for the album launch, and one replied no, he was just there for the tits. Fair enough.

A squat, bald man asked me if I had a ticket for the launch. No, I didn’t. I txted the radio host and asked him. He told me the artist had mine. That didn’t make a lot of sense, but Baldie believed me.

The host also asked if I’d take photos. Baldie didn’t like that. He put his hand on my shoulder & said what sounded like “let’s mate”, but was probably “Nah, mate”.

The hours ticked by, the beer decreased and the naked girls danced. The musician turned up, hugged people, and drank. The invitation said live music, but that didn’t happen. Instead, sounds from Bon Jovi through to Marilyn Manson blared. Except for the volume, that wasn’t too bad.

My last bus home left at 11.20, and so, when a hot stripper said hi, I engaged in shouted conversation while I put all my notes into her garter. She hugged me goodbye, and out I walked.

I’d entered the place as a guy going to an album launch, and left as a guy who’d just spent a night alone in a strip club.

The actual release party started around midnight. The next day at work, I was wasted. At least my hearing had recovered.

I’ll decline next time.