How Sociable Will I Be When I Die?

How Sociable Will I Be When I Die?

What happens to your online life when you drop off the perch? With so much interlinking, auto-sharing, auto-posting and re-tweeting I’m really wondering if I might just live on (socially speaking) for a few years without anyone noticing that I am actually quite dead. Perhaps I can plan for this eventuality by setting up some horribly clever automation that will have me bothering people from the grave and having a damn good chuckle at the joke from six-feet under. It wouldn’t take too much effort to link a few social media accounts and have them re-post to each other, ad infinitum, loop, loop, loop, laugh, laugh. With a WordPress blog,

20 Things I Would Tell A 20 Year Old

20 Things I Would Tell A 20 Year Old

A young friend, who was about to celebrate her twentieth birthday, asked me this question. “What twenty things would you tell a twenty-year-old about life?” After recovering from the shock of the being asked this question, and knowing that there surely isn’t a twenty-year-old living on this planet who would bother listening to me, I thought, well, why not? After making my decision, my only problem was stopping at twenty. So here we go with my abbreviated list of hard earned life lessons that no twenty-year-old in their right mind will ever pay any attention to. 1. Never listen to anything said by anyone over the age of twenty-one. It

The Glothic Tales Trilogy : For those who have wondered why things are as they are …

The Glothic Tales Trilogy : For those who have wondered why things are as they are …

The Glothic Tales Ever since that fateful decision was made to descend from the trees, stand on two legs and eat fewer bananas, humans have looked back on the decision with regret. It was at that very moment in time, when we began feeling that we were being controlled. By who, why and how is today, just as much of a mystery as it was then. As a species, we have lived our entire existence under constant control; by lords of the manor, governments, banks, moneylenders, faceless men in strange brotherhoods and manufactures of shiny objects that go beep and keep us amused for hours on end. The one unsolvable

The Comfort of Humour

The Comfort of Humour

You have to laugh at life My upbringing was very normal for the nineteen fifties and sixties in Australia. Boys were meant to be tough creatures who showed no signs of pain, suffering, confusion or emotion. One emotion was permitted, however. That was, being happy and contented with life’s lot. The standard was set primarily of course by my father, who was the perfect role model, and by my male relatives, friends and peers. Being tough, hard, unemotional and without fear were the attributes of a real man. I remember stubbing my big toe on a rock when I was about five or six. My toenail was pointing north, and there