I generally don’t think of myself as unintelligent. But today, during a meet & greet with a new colleague, I made a note of his legal studies major, where I incorrectly spelled “intellectual” (property).
I have enjoyEd documenting the occasional moment or observation in the form of Haiku.
Haikus are poems that follow a strict, concise three-line format. They appear simple on the surface, but there is always a challenge to capture the essence of something in 17 syllables. No more, no less.
I’ve brought here the ones I published on Twitter over the years, and hope to return to the practice.
On my 47th birthday:
The day of my birth As old as I’ve ever been A number only. (07/05/2024)
Haikus make you count Each and every syllable One, two, three, four, five
(25/08/2011)
Taking her for wees She takes minutes or seconds Depending on rain. (02/12/2019)
A tiny kitten She prances so joyfully Sadly on a road. (27/09/2013)
Watching a cat pee, I realise I meditate So very poorly.
(23/08/2018)
Cold and wet with fog Two pidgeons enjoy cover A black cat observes. (08/02/2018)
Eucalyptus tree A rare treat here in Dubai Squeezed leaves smell like home.
(12/10/2018, may have inspired my return to Australia)
Computer keyboard An ant is walking Next stop "Esc" key. (05/11/2015)
A man got married Got divorced, met a new girl More trouble ahead (03/02/2012, I picked it - a former colleague’s unfortunate fate)
Destroyed someone’s home. Disabled a hunter’s trap. Goodbye spiderweb.
(31/01/2020)
A troop of kangaroos They reveal themselves to me Hopping in tall wheat. (29/11/2019, I was the only commuter watching this spectacle on a busy regional train into Melbourne)
Sleeping on a train, Argument lost by old man. I’m happy to stand.
(17/01/2023, content that I gave my seat to another passenger – who was clearly very tired)
Our community Facebook group recently had one member post images of alleged shoplifters, and even asked for their names, or perhaps it was just for the purpose of shaming the pair into oblivion. Unsurprisingly a huge community uproar ensued, with only a couple of people questioning if it’s an appropriate use of the channel.
What I did find surprising among the pile on, was one person commented with a link to the Pimeyes web service – mentioning they may get lucky and find the culprits from the images.
I couldn’t help myself, and wanted to check this site out. I happened to have an extremely obscure photo of myself pulling a strained facial expression – when my kids and I were goofing around to see who could look in the most painful state. So I uploaded the absurd picture and wondered how many similarly absurd people their algorithm would uncover.
My mind was blown!
It found just one character in their index of 900 million people, and it was me! A single image, I know that was taken in early 2012 which may have temporarily been a social media profile picture which was long since changed and deleted.
The Pimeyes service makes it money from the next actions available. You can either uncover the source of that file and associated info to help in your person hunt, for $27. OR, if the incriminating photo is you, for $70 they can purge the image and all information to keep your discovery safe from prying Facebook sleuths.
What a business model!
I regularly use facial recognition in managing my online photo albums, and find it quite amazing how it can match my kids’ baby photos to their current photos.
It was jarring though to fail to deceive a third party service with such a bad source file.
In a world where privacy feels increasingly elusive, the realization that a single photograph from my past transcended time and resurface with such ease is jarring. As I ponder the implications, a sense of vulnerability takes hold. I’m reminded that the digital realm can be an unforgiving archive. Despite my efforts to outsmart the technology, it possesses an eerie ability to cut through my disguise and reveal the truth, leaving me unsettled and questioning the extent of anyone’s control over their own image and identity.
Those two girls appearing to steal perfume and makeup at Westfield’s don’t stand a chance if they don’t change their ways.
A recent episode of ABC’s Australian Story program featured the work of Mechelle Turvey, mother of Cassius Turvey – the 15 year old Aboriginal boy who was slain in 2022.
Cassius was the victim of a senseless, unprovoked, racist attack in Western Australia. His death shocked all of Australia and resulted in nationwide vigils and rallies (Wikipedia). As a father myself of Aboriginal boys of the same age, I clearly remember the story rocking me to my core.
The timing of this episode was sadly poignant. In a fresh story also out of Western Australia (this time Broome), video footage had gone viral of a tradesman that had used cable ties to handcuff and shackle three young Aboriginal siblings together. The three kids – ages 6, 7, and 8 – were restrained for almost an hour in the 33 degree Summer heat. The kids are seen in the recording screaming for their Mum and wanting water. And why did the guy feel the need to intervene and assault these children? He found them trespassing in the neighbour’s pool.
Against that emotional backdrop, I watched this episode, mostly bawling my eyes out.
Like most Australian Stories it was amazing.
I had heard that Mechelle Turvey took a very peaceful position when the protests began in Cassius’s name. There were definitely forces rising across the Nation which wanted revenge and worse. “Mama’s on a Mission“, as they titled it, shows just how incredibly warm and positive her response became, to ease those tensions.
Mechelle is inspiring, and a very worthy recipient of WA’s Australian Of The Year. She has even gone on to teach empathy to the Western Australian police force in an ongoing role. This is just remarkable, given some of their ineptitude they showed in dealing with the Aboriginal community.
There’s no way I can even fathom that amount of grief, let alone come through it with something positive and helpful. We also learned more about Cassius, and how he continues to inspire through his memory and the legacy his beautiful Mum honours.
Although it was tough to watch and hear about this episode again, I think it adds some important positivity to some terribly negative stories of racial violence, which is sadly not yet a thing of the past for Australia.
My 15 year old was without his mobile phone for a day while it was away getting fixed. He told me that night, he realised for the first time just how long the wait for his bus was after school – being forced to just stare at the ground, unentertained.
On my last commute into the city, my regular train service was unavailable due to their staff members being on strike. I shared the update with my work group chat, and that I still managed to get into the office.
Their emoji reactions show they’ve become familiar with me perhaps running more than most. Covering 102kms between home and my work office though!? I must say their expectations are severely out of touch.
I had a chance encounter with a former colleague. It turns out we work in the same building on different floors. It was quite a surprise, even more so that I remembered her name!
We were briefly sharing our work history since we worked together and she mentioned after our org she went to Mecca. I acknowledged with a knowing head nod, and mentioned that’s great. But it came as a bit of a shock, as I had no inkling she was Muslim. I thought her beliefs were quite the opposite, in some respects.
Back in my office I looked up her professional profile on LinkedIn. After we worked together she joined a company called MECCA Brands, that sells cosmetics and associated products.
