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This article first appeared in the Brisbane Courier Mail
GOOD news! You can stop worrying about climate change, terrorists, killer viruses and even housing prices. The robots will get us first.
Elon Musk, CEO of Tesla and freshly released plaything of Amber Heard, and Mark Zuckerberg, CEO of Facebook and owner of all the grey V-necks, have been name-calling on Twitter over this very issue.
This article first appeared in the Brisbane Courier Mail
IS “the selfie” the worst thing to happen to humanity in the last hundred years?
If you forget parking meters, pop music and war – which is simple for most as our attention spans have shrunk to the size of sesame seeds – then the selfie is the runaway number one.
Something you didn’t see 10 years ago – like traffic jams outside primary schools, anyone lining up to buy an iPhone or our national flag being a symbol for racism – was anyone taking snaps of themselves.
Not because they’re on holiday, just had a haircut, or checking for things between their teeth, but just because. Simply to marvel at their own beauty then indulge in a little footpath preening, as if they’re an exotic bird preparing for mating season. Followed by the arbitrary posting to social media, since they’re so lacking in internal fortitude, they can’t last another second without a virtual thumbs up from a handful of acquaintances.
This article first appeared in the Huffington Post
It started when we followed you on Twitter, because why not? We follow Big Ben, the fake Donald Trump and most named weather events, so why not the online version of a grabby, racist uncle?
Casual as a comb-over, you glided down an escalator and gave us a grammatically lobotomized rant about Mexican drug dealing rapists and walls, and nominated yourself to be the next President of the United States. And we fell for you, harder and faster than Obama drops bombs from drones.
You couldn’t stop jabbering and we couldn’t stop listening. Then whenever you paused, so did we, breathless and waiting for your next mentally vacant, factually devoid brain fart.
This article first appeared in the Brisbane Courier Mail
ONE simple thing I can do to solve a big problem, so I never worry about it again – I simply adore the idea of a quick fix.
All my life I’ve battled with my weight, and have tried more diets than I’ve had hot dinners. Actually, that’s not true, as hot dinners are a huge part of the problem.
The diets never work, because for me, eating salads is like cleaning the toilet. A disgusting chore. And I truly revel in masticating. Which explains why my wardrobe is packed with so many sizes of jeans, it looks like a discount rack at an op shop.
This article first appeared in the Brisbane Courier Mail
SINCE when do adverts have better morals than real living, breathing people?
Those bright little assaults on our senses that claim they’re no louder than the show we’re watching, but clearly are louder.
This article first appeared in the Herald Sun on Tuesday, April 18
Is there anything less like actual surfing, than surfing the internet?
Messing around on the internet is nothing like paddling hard, then the euphoria of carving along a completely natural wall of water.
If you don’t believe me, compare any competitor at the recent Rip Curl Pro, which happened at the real Bells Beach not the ‘Point Break’ one, to anyone who surfs the internet for a living. It’s like comparing granite to sludge, or a current AFL player, to a retired AFL player.
But if we continue to call scrolling through online nonsense for countless wasted hours ‘surfing’, then what can’t be called surfing?
