Climbing the stairs

As you probably know, I'm a massive fan of Noel Pearson. In last weekend's paper he wrote yet another unsettling, visionary article in which he outlined three "key articles of liberal philosophy" which are passed by when it comes to Aboriginal affairs.1 They are self-interest, choice and private property.

He identified self interest as the fundamental driver behind all development and observed that the "great western embarrassment about self-interest . . . results in Westerners failing to understand that the means by which they secure their advantage, and thereby provide amenity to others, is through the pursuit of self-interest." He also argued that ownership of private property is essential for development - and the opposite of traditional Aboriginal communal ownership.

His conclusion was that if Aboriginal people are to prospere they will need to "separate the domain of communalism in our heritage, cultures, languages and identities from the domain of liberalism in our lives". He cited "countless examples of societies and peoples who continue to maintain communalist arrangements in one sphere of their lives, while maintaining a liberal sphere in their economic arrangements."

Any thoughts?


1 The Weekend Australian 24-25th July 2010, Commentary section, page 14

We'll see you when we get home

I hope this isn't disrespectful but I want to link to a blog about a little boy's life. His name was Edward "Teddy" Paul Bayliss and he was the son of friends of a guy whose blog I follow. He was born very early and died after only three weeks. The reason I want to link to the blog is because I found his Dad's attitude very beautiful and amazing. The posts are threaded with joy at having Teddy around even though the whole time things were grim, and there is such thankfulness at the blessing of Teddy's little self. I was also struck by his Dad's confident anticipation that his son would enjoy a wonderful life in heaven. Knowing Jesus changes everything.

The blog only has two pages, so short was Teddy's life. Here's the first and here's the second.

streamofconsciousness

It's ridiculously late at night, but I feel like writing. I've been sitting here for hours, slowly ripping or burning or whatever my CDs into itunes and enjoying a sharp thinking blog. Channel [V] plays in the background, a pastiche of colour, movement and sound. It's the eve of my rest day and my brain unfurls. I love this time but am always left a little disappointed. Sometimes I go into the city on Saturday and wander around between errands or whatever I'm there for. Basically my brain/heart/spirit love being confronted by lots of stimuli. But I always want to respond with the same creativity I have observed, yet I never quite know what to do. I still have some small hope that I might one day learn to be a poet - so, I still have some small hope ;-). Tomorrow I'm off to see my dear friend Joan who knows about things like narrative and metre and may just understand the difficulty I have using creative expression I either do not feel or have not yet envisaged. For now there are girls in Alice in Wonderland costumes, cocktail bars and disapproving older men. I don't know what the song is because the TV's on mute. The last of my loud CDs is uploading. It's raining again and I'd better let in the cat.

Each day I ask myself

The suburb where I live has its main shopping drag on the other side of the railway line to my place. Then there's a secondary line of shops on my side of the tracks. Lots of people drive past these shops on their way to other places, but almost no-one walks. So how is it that all these shops survive?!? Let me show you what I mean:

EcoSensual is one of the newer shops. It sells candles. I have never seen anyone go in.

As well as repairing watches and clocks this shop provides engraving and pearl restringing services and you can sell your scrap gold to them. Never seen a person go in.

Sydney Golf House is not all it could be. Ditto the customers.

The butchers was an art studio by the time I arrived and has since closed up. I would not get my teeth looked at by Doobov Dental Laboratory for any money. Nor would anyone else from what I can see.

You'd better hope the pavlovas are in better shape than the building. Again no customers, but I have at least seen people in there.

If anyone can tell me how these shops stay in business I'd be most grateful. They can't all be running drugs.

A little Fundy . . .

I find it emotionally difficult to read authors with whom I disagree . . . This is obviously something of a problem for my Bible college career . . . One of the things that turns me off theologians in particular is their quest for biblical schemata. I applaud their desire to think biblically about modern situations (say, democracy), but I often find that they analyse the biblical account using categories which, while not exactly unfounded, do not arise naturally from the biblical material. It's as if they're squeezing it into trousers that don't quite fit - the content's still all there but the presentation's changed. My preference would be to leave biblical themes and categories sitting as they are and to let them speak into the modern situation to whatever extent they do. If they 'fall short' in any way, I would prefer to use prayer and careful thought to guide my actions, trusting that God will have his mighty, shepherding hand over these faltering things.

Faith [feyth] -noun

Faith is putting all your eggs in one basket - because the basket is a lovely, sturdy one that you can rely on.

Hands up if you're middle class

I glanced down at my trolley the other day, and couldn't help but smile at how stereotyped I am.