You have probably noticed the Internet is awash with articles, blogs and websites promoting ‘natural health,’ or ads for the latest new ‘wonder food’ that will make you thinner, healthier or smarter than Einstein.
There is also a steady stream of stories in the media telling us how this latest study contradicts the many previous studies, and in fact a diet based around lard, cigarettes and heroin is perfectly fine, in moderation of course.
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When I was young I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, apart from taller.
I showed a keen interest in science and space exploration at an early age, but sadly my eventual application to astronaut school was rejected, on the grounds of my flat feet and shortsightedness. That, and the complete lack of a science degree, flying experience, courage, or any of the usual qualities they tend to look for in potential astronauts.
This post is a bit of a departure from my usual ramblings, partly in an effort to avoid the dangers of routine and comfort that we all can so easily slip into. Please do not attempt to adjust your cognition equipment.
So let’s start by shaking off the chains of convention and get loosened up with some DIY primal screaming therapy. (This is best done totally nude) Ready?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!!!
There, that’s better, I feel fired up and ready for action. How about you? I just hope the neighbours haven’t called the Police. Again. Better get dressed now and get cracking.
It seems our cultures have something of an obsession with superheroes. The enduring myth of a superior being, a saviour figure not held back by mere mortal limitations who sacrifices himself to save mankind. Does that sound like someone familiar? A figure revered by millions throughout the western world? Yes, of course, it’s Superman.
He has died quite a few times over the years, but keeps on getting resurrected. I guess the world cannot do without this ultimate hero in the jolly red underpants and cape.
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Dancing is one of those more mysterious aspects of our culture and, like the appendix and the British royal family, might appear to have no obvious practical purpose.
From the Cha-Cha to the Charleston, the Hoedown to the Haka, dancing comes in a diverse range of strange and wonderful forms.
How does one begin to make sense of this odd compulsion for collectively shaking our booties to the beat of a drum? Can animals dance? What is dad dancing? I will attempt to address these and other questions in due course. But first some backstory…
The best things in life are not only free, but the line is shorter.
Robert Brault
A fellow blogger’s book review reminded me of the famous pyramid representing Abraham Maslow’s proposed hierarchy of needs and it set me wondering how relevant it might be in 2016.
A lot has changed since Maslow first published it way back in 1943. They didn’t have so many of the daily essentials we take for granted – the Internet, Wi-Fi, smartphones and microwave popcorn were all still a long way off. Life must have been hellish.
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Many of the dinosaurs that once roamed our planet were pretty spectacular, based on the numerous skeletal remains they’ve left behind.
The largest, like the massive Diplodocus, must have been quite a sight to behold, but a fairly recent find in Argentina was even bigger than any previous giant specimen. A forty metre long member of the Sauropod family, this Titanosaur weighed as much as fourteen African elephants and had testicles the size of Space Hoppers. Possibly.
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As a kid I loved robots and would never be disappointed to receive one as a birthday gift.
The public’s first encounter with a fictional robot was probably in the amazing 1927 German classic Metropolis, with its pioneering special effects and production design.
Much later, kids in the UK hid behind sofas as Dr Who brought us the menacing Daleks and (to my mind) the even scarier Cybermen.
The classic movie Forbidden Planet (and later shows like Lost in Space) introduced us to amazing automatons like Robby – a loyal robotic companion that did useful stuff, like defending you from scary monsters, or manufacturing vast quantities of booze on demand. What’s not to love?
Beliefs are a funny thing. I once believed, like many others, that a black cat crossing your path was bad luck. Of course I was rather biased, because of the unfortunate Panther attack. Nowadays I am older, wiser, and stay out of the big cat enclosure at the zoo.
Growing up I can recall Gypsy women in the street selling ‘lucky Heather’ (although Heather didn’t seem to feel it was so lucky, based on her expression) and some kids in my class had ‘lucky’ rabbit’s-foot keyrings – yuck.
Sports people are notoriously superstitious and many players and fans apparently wear the same ‘lucky’ socks, shirts or underpants to a match, imagining that this somehow mysteriously influences the outcome.
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It’s been few days since the announcement of the death of a hero – David Robert Jones, better known to the world as rock icon David Bowie. It came as quite a shock, since he was by all accounts a very private person, keeping the news of his illness a closely guarded secret.
It was perhaps all the more surprising in the light of his recent resurgence with the well-received album The Next Day in 2013, and Blackstar, a brand new album release to kick off 2016 in style.
Halfbananas - humour, short fiction & verse 