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Peruvian President, Alan Garcia
Where were you on Saturday, March the 3rd, 2007? Frantically marking the occasion in diaries and scrap books presumably. It was a day that one will tell their grandchildren of, a day that goes down in history. March the 3rd, 2007, will forever be the date that tardiness lost its final stronghold.
If you havent already done this, I suggest you burst out of your household, run to the nearest public space, throw your hands in the air and shout Time has prevailed! Embrace the person next to you and share in the joy of the clock.
On March the 3rd, Peruvian president Alan Garcia launched a national campaign against latecomers, over sleepers and meeting missers - a fight against lateness. The country of Peru has become infamous for its disregard of the clock, both analogue and digital. It is considered socially unacceptable to arrive on time for meetings and dinner parties, and an inconvenience to be in possession of any form of time keeping device. A national survey revealed that 84% of Peruvians believe their fellow citizens never meet any form of deadlines.
But Mr. Garcia has had enough! (We must) stop this horrible, pitiful, disastrous custom of failing to be punctual. So, in an attempt to warm his citizens to the idea of time, Mr. Garcia instated a national clock awareness day. Sirens wailed, church bells rang and 27 million Peruvians (surrounded by giant time related mascots) were encouraged to synchronize their watches. 
Well, weve got through the slightly less exciting festive holiday, now its time to prepare for Christmas. Why not buy your gifts now? Begin decorating the tree. Remember, the early bird gets to enjoy December sleep-ins. While your friends are frantically panicking through crowded shopping centers and desperately looking for last minute batteries, you can relax in the knowledge that everything was organized nine months in advance. Start wishing your family festive cheer, so to avoid the arduous task later. Merry Christmas to all.
Throughout the last week I have been buried inside a pile of forgotten items. I undertook the dangerous activity of sorting through the backs of drawers and cleaning out cupboards that have remained unopened for decades. It starts as an innocent dusting adventure, a simple repositioning of the swivel chair, but ends as a horrible decent into the pits of redecorating hell. What seemed like a fifteen minute sprucing soon becomes a dramatic lifestyle upheaval and before you know it, you havent left the house in a week.
I had planned to move my CDs, that was it. From one shelf to another, no dramas. It was, at this point, that I decided to sort through my musical collection finally getting around to discarding those that now sit in the embarrassing youth corner. In a little over five minutes I was surrounded by five piles, and had established a convoluted system of categories.
In my head, I knew that some had to go. Mambo Number 5, Who Let the Dogs Out and the back-catalogue of UK boy band Five had not ventured into the stereo in years, so they became obvious bin choices. But I couldnt do it. My mind insisted that at some time, when I least expected it, they would be needed. This soon became a pattern. Old board games, broken pens, novelty rulers, promotional hats, unrecognizable cables and rusty coins all found their way into the bin pile, but were soon removed. Three hours later I had turned the house upside down, but thrown nothing out.
So, here I am, living amongst a series of confused piles of strange items. Surrounded by the absurd categories of I know I should get rid of it, but it might come in handy and Im not sure what this is, so it must be useful. Most likely, I will leave these items in their piles for another week, until I finally get sick of clutter and decide to return them from whence they came the cupboard.
Socks. Theyre tight, restrictive and totally unnecessary. In fact, somehow over the last two years I have developed a night time sock phobia. It has, strangely, become physically impossible for me to fall asleep whilst wearing socks be they warm and wooly, or light and breezy. This revelation has come as a shock, for throughout most of my life I have never been without a good pair of friends for the feet
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Music means a lot to the world, it means a lot to the people of the world. Were often hearing about how a particular band or artist has spurred some form of self realization, caused an epiphany of insight. But can music change a life? Can it change the way one views their situation, their relationships? Theres no doubting its a powerful medium, possibly the most powerful. It can inflate, deflate, comfort or disgust. It can influence political ideals and create cultural revolutions. It has been the soundtrack to war, love and all in between. It has divided and united. But can a band change a life? Can a band change my life
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Image Courtesy of Getty Images
Matters of the heart are often controversial, especially if they involve the youth. You can reduce their pocket money, restrict their television time, but nothing can stop puppy love passion at least thats what we thought. But Warrnambool High School, known for its dubious intellect and Brisbane Lions football sensation Jonathon Brown, has stumbled upon another winner. No longer must parents fret into the early hours while waiting for a blearing eyed young lover to return from the local jamboree, the resident Warrnambool philosophers have worked it out. Bricks. In fact, two bricks. Thats all it takes. Imagine this
lunch time arrives, leaving hundreds of hormone filled teenagers to spill out into an unsupervised large space. In the past they were allowed to fawn all over each other until the hour was up, not anymore. Now, they must be at least two bricks away from the nearest member of the opposite sex. No more troubles, just a whole lot of education
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I know, youve probably forgotten who I am. Im the guy who wrote those slightly entertaining, but inevitably unsatisfying human interest stories all the while attempting to pass them off as political commentary. Ive been absent. Have you noticed? Probably not. Anyway, while Ive been gallivanting around the Caribbean (why would I lie?), this blog has taken a turn for the worst. Anti emo articles? Whats next? Most likely, a back-slapping, right-wing, pro-mining, conservative-fest. You are one step away from the Young Liberals! So, in the interest of political balance
lets all embrace those lovable larrikins, the modern day wags, the kooky funsters emo children. God bless their individuality!
Thats right. Weve all got one. Whether theyre manically quoting Little Britain or causally dropping Whats the deal with
into their every day vernacular, the resident comedian
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Pets. We all love them. The dog even has the title of mans best friend. Our hectic world and stressful lives are given perspective by these curious beings. One of the first questions, other than how was the womb, our children are asked is cats or dogs? Which one is it? You simply must choose. But despite the perceived obsession with the family pet, exemplified by the myriad of Pet-Help reality television shows, it seems our love of animal playmates is on the decline. At least thats what the Australian Veterinary Association says
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Comment by Billy M
on Christmas Time Has Come Again!