Tit for Tat – just what IS it with the Tattoo trend?

Photo by Eugene Chystiakov on Pexels.com

In recent years I have become away of the global trend for people to tattoo themselves. This is nothing new. From the dawn of human society, we have felt the need to imprint our thoughts and deeds visibly on ourselves, and among many primitive societies it was a way to distinguish oneself among the tribe. For most people over the centuries, tattoos have been used to commemorate a special landmark in one’s life, such as a particular feat in a battle, taking on a certain leadership role, the birth of a long awaited child, or some other such noteworthy event in one’s life. While some societies did see tattoos as a means of personal beautification, for the main part tattoos, no matter how small, held some deep personal or religious significance and were not inscribed into one’s flesh lightly. In short, tattoos were something that you earned or merited, not just acquired on a whim.

Not that that seems to stop anyone today. You see some individuals trot around looking like an advertising poster for a graphic art expo, a load of seemingly meaningless gunk scrawled all over their visible extremities (what lies beneath their clothing is the stuff of wild conjecture!) I suppose one good thing about all the indigo paint etc is that if you have a skin problem such as acne no-one would be able to tell. But somehow there is something dark and problematic with all these so-called individuals trying to look different, and yet with the growing numbers of tattoo groupies on the streets, they all look as though they belong to some primeval tribe or gang screaming out for recognition or deliverance. Men especially like to have totems such as screaming eagles, dragons and rampant snakes entwined around their arms and faces, hinting at a macho toughness they most likely never possess in reality, while many women just seem to go for whatever they think is ‘cool’ at the time -without thinking that trends change very often and they don’t think any further than how they will next appear on the beach in their swimwear. Even sadder than these would-bes-if-they-could-bes are those who have items such as punctured love hearts plastered everywhere as if they are the only ones who have ever suffered the loss of a loved one or a broken relationship. It is even sadder when the name of the loved one is scrawled willy nilly everywhere on the epidermis, and this is as stupid as it is futile. Point one – Mary Sue (or whoever it is) is not very likely to come back into your life and point two, you are stuck with that name for the rest of your mortal life, and any new girlfriend/boyfriend isn’t about to be too impressed with this proof of past infatuation shoved before their eyes day in and day out. And point three – your piece of body art may look fab when you are twenty, but as time passes and skin sags, your flawless facade will become marred by wrinkles, age spots, moles, freckles, hairs and heaven knows what else until it becomes a hideous travesty, and you wind up covering it all with your clothes after all. Imagine yourself in the rest home sixty or so years later, a drooling, doddering senior citizen who lives permanently within ten or so paces of the WC. All those screaming dragons, swooping eagles, death head emblems, bleeding hearts and swirling snakes that once looked cool in your twenties now look sad and distinctly pathetic now you are over eighty. And all those glamour girls who once flaunted their body booty on the beaches? Well, drooping tits and shrivelled buttocks covered in a sea of flowers, love hearts, skulls, arrows etc sure don’t look impressive anymore, especially when you’re so reliant on incontinence panties and thermal underwear.

So why do we all do it? In this era of stickable body art, why can’t people merely use transfers if they really need to express themselves this way, and when the times or circumstances change they too can change without being saddled with a sorry, permanent reminder of some passing whim. I suppose many tattoo artists would march forth in massed protest if people did this as this would no doubt put many of them out of work, but surely they can find a better outlook for their artistic talents, which are not inconsiderable.

We were not born inscribed in ink. We were not designed to be transcribed in ink. We humans chose this artificial path for ourselves, and contrary to what many people hope to achieve by plastering themselves this way, it does not impress most people but does just the opposite. It conveys a status or ability that in reality most people do not have, and diminishes the meaning of the distinctive tattoos that their ancestors of old acquired, often after much sacrifice and effort. And it sure doesn’t improve your career prospects either. In fact, all the evidence shows that it does just the opposite.

Like to know more about me and my writing? Check out more via 

https://www.amazon.com/author/ajdormaar

or

https://www.facebook.com/Author-A-J-Dormaar-Fan-Page-187412251288828/inbox/?mailbox_id=187412251288828&selected_item_id=100001660733422

Twitter @AlisonDormaar

Global economic reality – a follow up

Photo by Nathan Cowley on Pexels.com

Recently I published a blog about the frustrations of the modern labour force, especially for those of us over 45. I feel compelled to share a first rate article that many of you out there may wish to share and read in addition to what I have already written.

https://www.forbes.com/sites/jackkelly/2018/06/12/they-are-not-telling-us-the-truth-about-the-job-market-here-is-what-they-dont-want-you-to-know/

Juggling for a Job – the modern Lotto

 

Photo by energepic.com on Pexels.com

Writing is a volatile field financially. We authors all dream of hitting ‘the big time’ but as with so many things in life, this is often not too realistic and thus the vast majority of us have to work in the conventional world to earn the bulk of our living. Nor are we alone. It is estimated that in this world of over rapid technological expansion and globalisation and corporate downsizing that almost half of the workforce are currently engaged to some degree in surfing job websites, even if they are currently in employment. Far too many of us can feel the shifting sands beneath out feet, especially if you receive a whiff of potential company ‘downsizing’, ‘disestablishment’ or ‘outsourcing’ in the not too distant future – a fancy, polite way of saying that your job could be the next to get the axe or that someone in some Third World state can do it far cheaper with very few, if any, union or human rights advocates in sight to complicate things for the bosses. Okay, so just pop down the road and get another job, right?

Easier said than done.

For one thing, there are so many others out there looking. While recently checking my own job search results on the website SEEK, I noticed that the statistics stated that one job I had just applied for had received over 118 applications to date, and the official application expiry date was at least another week away. I noted another position that already had over 384 applications listed and was still counting. There is every chance therefore that your own application – and yes, you will have slaved over making sure all the i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed on your cover letter, that your CV is up to date and in the best possible format – is not even going to be seen by human eyes. Nowadays there are several online applications that select CVs etc via keyword searches without an employer having to so much as check their e-mail box, thereby eliminating over half of all applications, including some potentially very desirable candidates in the process. If by some miracle you make it through the technological terrors, you are often asked now for a selfie video (let’s face it, most of us are not supermodel material), possibly a voice recording, and you have to fill out a long list of some very invasive questions that leave me for one bridling. And then there are the job advertisements themselves that can leave you with a dreadful inferiority complex – “passionate”, “driven’, “able to hit the ground running”, “multi tasker”, “superstar” and “team player” are among the more mild descriptions of the Superman or Wonder Woman sought for the “desirable” position in question. They don’t want much (so they say: you just have to know every aspect of Office inside out, be a technological whiz even if you have to empty dustbins, remain cheerful while being abused on all sides and be able to jump buildings with a single bound at the drop of a hat. And if, by some miracle, you make it to the final round of the selection process, you find yourself sitting in a chair before a panel who assess you in much the same way a farmer does a prized bull, searching for any defects and putting you through your paces on the auction block. And you have to sit there, cap in hand or tugging at your forelock; “Oooh arrrr sorr, sooo good to meet you sorr/ma’am, I’ll lick your arse any time you wish sorr/ma’am, like a good dog…” Well, maybe I exaggerate, but you are left with that distinct feeling.

The other disturbing aspect of job hunting nowadays is the casualisation of labour. Let’s face it, your bills are hauntingly regular, rather like death and taxes, but there are far more jobs out there now advertising casual/on call positions that provide no guarantee whatsoever from week to week of reliable earnings, and an ever rising torrent of part time positions that all too often barely offer enough paid hours for you to meet your rent or mortgage obligations, let alone think of paying for anything else. And yet we are constantly bombarded with government pressures to ‘save for your old age’, ‘invest in the future’ and so forth, when for so many people – especially if you are over 45 and not considered desirable material anymore by the gurus of the modern workplace – living week to week has become such a juggling act.

In the 1990s the demolition of the unions paved the way for consequences the younger generations are now starting to realise. They trumpeted the emergence of flexible terms and conditions and one to one bargaining without realising that unless you are an A grade rocket scientist or the like that is in super high demand, not to mention having an encyclopaedic knowledge of your legal rights and employment law, you have no real bargaining power at all. With the stroke of a pen some starry eyed fools have signed away decades of hard strife and toil on the part of union workers who fought tooth and nail, and even died to secure basic rights for everyone, not just the privileged few. Through this sorry betrayal of our forefathers, the essential right to earn a stable, respectable living has been replaced by a mad lolly scramble where there are definite losers and not too many winners – rather like Lotto in far too many respects.

Like to know more about me and my writing? Check out more via 

https://www.amazon.com/author/ajdormaar

or

https://www.facebook.com/Author-A-J-Dormaar-Fan-Page-187412251288828/inbox/?mailbox_id=187412251288828&selected_item_id=100001660733422

Twitter @AlisonDormaar

The Fruitless Search for Succulence

Photo by Trang Doan on Pexels.com

I love nice fruit. Bear in mind, I said NICE fruit. I still harbour fond memories of childhood holidays, roaming in warmer climes of the country, the sun warm and bright on my face, pushing my way through dense orchard rows and batting ripe berries, apricots and plums into my pail – or rather, it was one for me, one for the bucket, one for me, one for the bucket…I still remember the wonderful audible crack as I bit into a tree ripened apple, the almost sugary sweet juice dripping down my chin and the sensory explosion as I peeled a succulent orange and got a full ripe whiff of that citric tang.

Well, as they say, good things never last. Cruise the supermarkets and market stalls now and you find those squelchy, spongy travesties that simply pass at fruit, wrapped in a skin that proclaims it to be a sorry clone of the real thing. One can pick up an apple or pear and feel the clammy coldness pervading it, betraying its sorry sojourn in some chiller compartment. Any berries have to eaten ASAP, or they dissolve almost before your eyes into a blood coloured morass of gungy mould. And to add insult to injury, one sees those posters everywhere proclaiming the sacred 5 plus a day for general health (fruit and veg combined). They would have far better results from these if the produce was indeed fit for human consumption – and all too often these days, it aint.

Some people blame export volumes for the lack of truly fresh fruit. Myself, I blame a system that is so greedy and impatient for the hard cash that it picks the fruit far too green and then hothouses it in some warehouse or chiller for a period before fobbing it off on the public at export level prices. A nectarine, peach or plum used to fill the cupped hand, dewy, heavy and ripe with tasteful promise. Nowadays you can fill your marble bag with the wretched things and no-one would be any the wiser. Some time ago I saw an advert at some stall for ‘crunchy pears”‘ Since when have pears been supposed to be crunchy, may I ask? And while we are on the subject of produce, why on earth are some potato varieties promoted as ‘gourmet’? To the best of my knowledge, all potatoes grow from exactly the same kind of dirt and there is no class distinction whatsoever. I very much doubt if the original potato grubbing peasants of Peru where spuds come from would have made any distinction. If the powers that be have any genuine concern for public health, and if they really want people to switch over from their convenience/fast food fixes, for heavens sake make genuine food more affordable and fit to savour again. The general public -and the health system – will thank you.

Like to know more about me and my writing? Check out more via 

https://www.amazon.com/author/ajdormaar

or

https://www.facebook.com/Author-A-J-Dormaar-Fan-Page-187412251288828/inbox/?mailbox_id=187412251288828&selected_item_id=100001660733422

Twitter @AlisonDormaar

 

Photo by Anna Romanchenko on Pexels.com

The Bittersweet World of Modern Chocolate

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Some time ago I posted my indignation at how the world of chocolate seemed to be spiralling into ever decreasing circles. It’s funny, isn’t it, how once something gains momentum it just keeps snowballing – but unlike the proverbial snowball that gets bigger as it accelerates down the hill, the chocolate avalanche is now petering out into a sludgy trickle to the point of meanness.

Just a short time ago Cadburys announced they are cutting back their standard block size (again!!!) from around 220 grams to 200 grams – and they still call this the family block, although any serious individual chocolate aficionado can polish off these scrawny slithers now in one sitting.  The once popular brand of Roses chocolates are certainly off the public radar now, each chocolate shrunken in size and making one feel each time you pop one in your mouth that you have been prescribed a lozenge. And what is it with the gritty substance that now befouls the once rich creamy fillings of these former mouth smacking morsels? I also noted the other day while out in the supermarket that their newly released packets of standard marshmallow Easter eggs are no longer whole eggs – the eggs have been halved, each half individually wrapped as if to emphasise the meanness of it all. Cripes, egg hunting under the bushes on Easter Sunday morning will never be the same. Imagine sending the kids out, only to have them come bawling back to you “Mu-u-um! Da-a-ad! The Easter Bunny only left us half an egg!”

I daresay some PR person may claim that they are doing these measures as part of their PC health conscious campaign to cut back on portion control, but if this was the case they certainly would not be in the lucrative confectionery business now, would they? But Cadburys is not the only company who seems to be on a self imposed freefall from public estimation (and sales). Many other brands seem to have taken on board the message of ‘shrink at all costs’ nowadays, and as I may have previously mentioned in a previous blog, one certainly notices how biscuits rattle around hollowly in their plastic trays, the gingernuts in particular having been shrunk and baked to a thin, hard meanness that it would take the most acidic cup of tea in the world to soften down to a palatable level. When one hears that a friend’s dog declined a dunked biscuit, you know that the world is truly in a sorry way. There is a motto that seems to have taken hold of many of our manufacturers – “give as little as you can for as much as you can grab”. Sorry guys, This is a surefire path to bankruptcy. And judging by the stacks of unsold chocolate bars etc in the shops, I know I am by no means alone in saying to Cadburys and their friends “no more”.

Like to know more about me and my writing? Check out more via 

https://www.amazon.com/author/ajdormaar

or

https://www.facebook.com/Author-A-J-Dormaar-Fan-Page-187412251288828/inbox/?mailbox_id=187412251288828&selected_item_id=100001660733422

Twitter @AlisonDormaar

 

The Problems of Procrastination

For many creative souls, this is the dreaded ‘P’ word. This is that horrible mental block that afflicts all of us from time to time, paralysing our physical as well as our mental being, with that niggly thought, “I’ll do it later” rampaging through our consciousness. So we turn aside from our tasks and resume idly surfing the internet or gawping at the TV, and before you realise it the day has gone, with nothing concrete to show for it. Again.

As much as many of us of hate the alarm clock, I find that this is an essential device for me to be ‘up and at ’em’ in the morning, so to speak. I find the best thing for me to do is to assign certain hours of the day to certain tasks, and I set appointments for myself to do them, much like you would if you were handling your Outlook calendar in the conventional workplace. After all, you would never miss a scheduled business appointment without a good reason or rescheduling in advance, right? Come to think of it, something like Outlook is not such a bad idea instead of relying on one’s own personal sinew. As they say, ‘the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak’, and as winter closes in down in the Southern Hemisphere, with dark mornings, frost and so forth, it is all too easy to turn over in one’s nice, warm bed and mumble “just a few more minutes…” – and before you know it, you go back to sleep, only to wake up another hour or so later and half the morning is seemingly gone. And since half the morning is gone, it is all too easy to let the rest of the morning go as you kid yourself you won’t have time now to do what you were going to do…and then you reach the afternoon, trying to catch up with anything you may have put off earlier that can no longer wait…and then it is evening, and no, you’ll put off those certain tasks yet again because you have meals to cook, families to tend to, and of course you want to catch up with the evenings news…you get the picture!

Those who are familiar with Charles Dickens will know that he had a true mastery of understanding both the human condition as well as the written word. I can think of no better words to summarise procrastination than those of Mr Micawber, of ‘David Copperfield’ fame; “Procrastination is the thief of time. Collar him!”

If you like A J Dormaar’s style, check out her latest release “The Rival”, following the hilarious pawprints of a spoiled cat fighting his mistress’s no-good boyfriend for mastery, is now available via https://www.createspace.com/5016577

Don’t forget the following books for all fantasy lovers over the age of 10! For all you fans of epic high adventure, you can’t go past these ones!

http://www.amazon.com/UNCLAIMED-THRONE-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IN8ZAEC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1393368104&sr=1-1&keywords=the+unclaimed+throne+a.j.+dormaar

http://www.amazon.com/UNCROWNED-QUEEN-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IXB6J6C/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394535709&sr=1-2&keywords=A.J.+Dormaar

The Year of the Spider

2018 is officially (the the Chinese at least) the Year of the Dog. Along with this year we associate qualities such as loyalty, affection and so forth, and I suppose if Fido leaves more shed hair around the house than usual this is perfectly acceptable under the circumstances. We always make many allowances for our beloved pets after all.

However, spiders do not feature on my allowance list.

For some reason, they have been about in proliferation this year. Down here in the southern Hemisphere we have had a somewhat hotter summer than usual, accompanied by bouts of rain and high humidity; a sure fire signal for every six or eight legged beastie to emerge en masse, and worse, to converge on human habitations. Along with an invading pack of nimble wolf spiders that leap from wall to wall with unbounded enthusiasm, the somewhat more stately daddy long legs hang from every ceiling corner and orifice, trailing their unsightly grey webs behind them, the wispy shreds of which linger from seemingly every lampshade, nook and cranny. Spiders routinely march across my pillow at night, tickling my nose and jerking me out of a good sleep; in the garden billowing drifts of baby spiders insolently dangle their aerial balloons before my eyes as they float past seeking green pastures, and I can swear that the tiny terrors even wave their forelegs at me as they drift by. Spiders set up camp in my slippers, in the picture frames, in the kitchen cupboards. Despite periodic rampages with my duster and the vacuum cleaner, the wisps of their abandoned or half finished webs linger about still, making it look to an outsider at times that no-one has lived in the house for years, the emptied carcasses of flies and other bugs littering the floor to add to the unwanted decoration. They have grown cunning; they hide in orifices, crooks and crannies unseen by the human eye, and whatever webbing you demolish in the daytime is consequently re-spun oversight with a speed and efficiency that many public road construction crews would do well to learn by.

Is there a Year of the Spider, or ever has been? I am not sure. If I was to assign the Year of the Spider any qualities, it would certainly be, if nothing else, tenacity and a strong sense of self preservation, with an unfailing ability to make anything in their vicinity look dirty and neglected overnight. However, I admit, it would be truly something to be able to let a silken balloon erupt from one’s backside and drift off on the windy currents to fresh pastures. Hmm…that certainly conjures up a real host of mental images!

Want to read a really well spun yarn while your’re about it? If you like A J Dormaar’s style, check out her latest release “The Rival”, following the hilarious pawprints of a spoiled cat fighting his mistress’s no-good boyfriend for mastery, is now available via https://www.createspace.com/5016577

Don’t forget the following books for all fantasy lovers over the age of 10! For all you fans of epic high adventure, you can’t go past these ones!

http://www.amazon.com/UNCLAIMED-THRONE-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IN8ZAEC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1393368104&sr=1-1&keywords=the+unclaimed+throne+a.j.+dormaar

http://www.amazon.com/UNCROWNED-QUEEN-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IXB6J6C/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394535709&sr=1-2&keywords=A.J.+Dormaar

The Resolution Revolution

Well, here we are in 2018. A year ago I was gloomily contemplating the end of the world as we know it, but by some miracle (or should I say by the grace of the Almighty) we are all still here. By now many of us will have resolved to cut back on spending, pay off the Christmas credit card debt, lose weight, pick up a new hobby, exercise more or countless other self-promises that are mostly doomed to fail.

My own resolution is more simple. I solemnly resolve here and now NOT to make any resolution. And I can solemnly attest that this is one resolution that will never, ever be backpeddled on or broken in any way, shape or form. If experience has taught me one thing, contrary to what your parents and grandparents may have parrotted at you in your youth, life is all too often NOT what you make it. All too often events occur in the wider world around you that you are powerless to prevent or control, and the only option open to you is to react with the best of your ability or resources to what does happen. Also contrary to what younger generations have been taught in recent decades, in life there are definite winners and there are definite losers, with a very large grey area in-between of varying degrees. It is, after all, quite possible for a rich person with all the money and fame in the world to feel totally stressed, miserable and alone, while someone with a dead end job and next to no savings is perfectly happy, especially if they have the blessing of good health and a close and loving family. Success, in the wider term, can be seen in different degrees.

Perhaps that is why New Year resolutions came to be in the first place. Perhaps they were originally intended to help us gain a better perspective of life’s true treasures instead of the shallow idols imposed on us by society’s expectations. Despite this (and I am as bad any anyone else) a significant win in the New Year Lotteries would certainly not be unwelcome…

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!

 

Interested in high adventure and fantasy? Like my writing? Here is a New Years sneak peek!

 

The Mysterious World of “They”

As a child, I used to live in awe of They. You would hear this fearsome name spoken among the adults, often when they thought you were in bed and beyond earshot, usually when some late night news feature was on TV that was deemed unsuitable for juvenile viewing. From an early age I learned that They were responsible for all the terrible or significant things happening in the world, that They were all powerful and pervasive.

The only thing is, I never really figured out who They were. I would ask an adult and never got a straightforward answer, often being told not to worry about it, I was too young to understand. Contrary to what they wanted me to think, grown-ups certainly did not have all the answers.

Even now, a few decades later, They continue to haunt my existence. You hear They mentioned on the news and among conversations with colleagues and friends, but all too often no-one can pinpoint who They really is, was or will be. The best anyone can come up with is that this is some kind of shadowing faceless order intent on taking over the world as we know it, like in the form of the last-days New World Order, but when it comes to names or location, we hit a dead-end. They elude us once again.

They are always there. They are always watching. They are always intent on seizing power or control when the chance arises. They control the world finances, the wars, the politics. Presidents, prime ministers, despots and dictators alike are all pawns in the hands of They. We refer to They all the time, and no doubt some time soon a temple will be erected to They. They are truly a global, quasi religious organisation that encompasses continents, cultures and ordinary understanding. Perhaps They are the Illuminati, Satan Worshippers or some other dark cult, and maybe will feature some time soon in a Dan Brown thriller that will eclipse the Da Vinci Code.

Funny how a single term, They, can convey so much, isn’t it? We can try to pinpoint as best as we can who we THINK They is, but it never seems to be quite accurate. I suppose that for new generations of children, the shadowy world of They will continue to be their bogeyman, gossiped about in adult circles but forever eluding the understanding of the young or the unenlightened curious. Maybe we need to start up some form of Masonic order to help initiates understand the mechanisations of They better, but as with everything, some higher levels will continue to elude the general understanding. They will slink back into the shadowy abyss of human confusion and ignorance, forever there but just beyond our true grasp of comprehension as to their true purpose or identity.

Want to conquer a really good read while your’re about it? If you like A J Dormaar’s style, check out her latest release “The Rival”, following the hilarious pawprints of a spoiled cat fighting his mistress’s no-good boyfriend for mastery, is now available via https://www.createspace.com/5016577

Don’t forget the following books for all fantasy lovers over the age of 10! For all you fans of epic high adventure, you can’t go past these ones!

http://www.amazon.com/UNCLAIMED-THRONE-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IN8ZAEC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1393368104&sr=1-1&keywords=the+unclaimed+throne+a.j.+dormaar

http://www.amazon.com/UNCROWNED-QUEEN-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IXB6J6C/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394535709&sr=1-2&keywords=A.J.+Dormaar

Consumer Carnage at the Checkout

Ahhh, the good old days of customer service. Remember those? If you are under 35, you should do. You know, when people were employed in steady jobs by the supermarkets to actually pack your bags, and surprise, surprise, ring up your purchases at the till before speeding you on your way with pleasant wishes for a nice day? Nostalgia is a funny thing.

I have a distinct grudge against self service checkouts. Not only do they cheapen the image and good reputation of any major store, but I heartily resent that in far too many cases a large number of these jobs, both full time and part time, have been “disestablished”, to use that sickening modern term for being fired. In the volatile world of the modern economy, most of us cannot afford to be job snobs, and I have seen too many former executives, medical professionals and the like who have been obliged to get jobs like these to tide them over when their careers falter and they get “disestablished” by the latest round of governmental and corporate cutbacks, and even jobs for merely collecting trolleys from the supermarket carpark – once the domain of teenage schoolboys seeking after-school pocket money and a bit of work experience – are now often hotly contested by people twice the age and with oceans more experience. So to have the cost-cutting powers that be enforce self service on me is somewhat cheap, penny pinching, infuriating and rather condescending. I feel like asking if they are going to pay me for the labour and time involved, and sometimes wonder if I dare submit my bill for services rendered.

I have become especially irate concerning airport check-in procedures nowadays. Not long ago I went overseas for a weeks’ break, somehow convincing myself that air travel was a tad more upmarket than ordinary travel, and remembering the slight frisson of happy excitement I used to get when boarding planes. This time, instead of the happy tingle at the airport departure lounge, I felt it to be more of an electric cattle prod. Hardly any airport staff are in evidence, and in the place of attractive, smiling ladies in smart uniforms behind glossy counters you have soulless, Dalek like creations in the middle of the floor that mindlessly swallows your passsport whole, burp and belch over a few blinking lights, then spits out your passport again plus your boarding pass and a string of luggage tags from a cheap plastic sheath that somehow looks like an anus. After lassooing your bags with the tags, you then have to corral them onto the baggage conveyor belt yourself – haaah, hahhhhh! – and the whip cracks again as the lowing boarding herd, all now stripped of their wordly possessions blindly streams towards the departure gates – or the sheep run, as I call it – and the next round of clicking, blinking cameras and machines – haaah, hahhhh! By the time the flight is called at the boarding gate and you have shown your passport and pass for the dozenth time, you half expect to hear the sizzling rasp of the branding iron on the back of your hand…yeeeehahhhhh! Oh yeah, and have you noticed how the average economy seat packs you in real tight, just like a can of corned beef…ah well, they don’t call modern air travel cattle class for nothing, do they?

I used to think we as humans were better than just a number. Strange, isn’t it, that the global pursuit of dollars and cents can reduce even the best of us now into merely nothing.

Want to conquer a really good read while your’re about it? If you like A J Dormaar’s style, check out her latest release “The Rival”, following the hilarious pawprints of a spoiled cat fighting his mistress’s no-good boyfriend for mastery, is now available via https://www.createspace.com/5016577

Don’t forget the following books for all fantasy lovers over the age of 10! For all you fans of epic high adventure, you can’t go past these ones!

http://www.amazon.com/UNCLAIMED-THRONE-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IN8ZAEC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1393368104&sr=1-1&keywords=the+unclaimed+throne+a.j.+dormaar

http://www.amazon.com/UNCROWNED-QUEEN-J-Dormaar-ebook/dp/B00IXB6J6C/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394535709&sr=1-2&keywords=A.J.+Dormaar