Anton Hooton

Taken from an E-mail I sent to my brother…..regarding his brithday present to me The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins  (Bantam Press 2006).  Thanks mate for the book, interesting ..not far in to it…..though I should say I expect every claim by someone so well respected to be qualified so was surprised to read in his preface his claim that  ”American polls suggest atheists and agnostics far outweigh religious Jews…” (page 27) without any reference material provided as a source. He claims “American Polls suggest..” I ask “Which polls?, How many polls? Who polled?” I could not care less whether it is true or not, rather I expect when people make a stand using facts as their purpose to support their own theory, (and his is an interesting one) that they qualify their source. I hope he has done further homework for any future claims i read.Cheers and thanks again  Anton 

When does the joyful sharing of wonderful news between friends become a heavy burden in the heart? When there is a catch attached to it.

On the weekend a dear dear friend got us together and shared the most wonderful news.

I wanted to yell the news from the cliff tops by my beach, so it would resonate across the sea to anybody and everybody out there. I thought of all my friends who would be stoked to hear about it. But on the way home from our get together I get a call from my ’sharing friend’ not to say anything to anybody, not yet.

Ahhh, now my joy has been locked up, my heart is contracting instead of expanding. Is honest, loving communication something that should be hidden away? Hidden love is dead wood. I can’t say a thing to anybody until I get the A-OK from my friend. Now I know she is protecting her own interests so why tell me at all? Because she wants to share her joy with close friends and I am lucky enough to be one of them. The hardest thing is that there are other friends interested in the news, waiting in anticipation, but I have to play a poker face. Those who know me, know my heart is worn on my sleeve, pulsating richly red with exuberance, all highs and lows on show. Not this time. Please don’t ask me about my friend’s news, I cannot lie, nor can I dishonour the request of my friend.

The very next day I am asked by my house mate about news from my sharing friend and now I have to fob her off and not answer the questions asked of me. Now I have to hide the truth. Rules and regulations concerning love shackle the heart. It’s a devastating game for me to play.

I hereby make a statement to the world, share any loving communication with me, I live for it, but don’t put restrictions on me. Please, from now on don’t tell me anything until you are comfortable for me to shout it from the cliff tops! Your wonderful news is there for us all to relish, it brings us all together.

Do we need to see our prime minister promoting “Three” a brand of the Hong Kong company Hutchison Whampoa Limited?

Coupled with a Victoria Bitter Beer brand on his tracksuit top? It’s not the message I want our PM to be sending out to fellow Australians and the rest of the world. Wouldn’t it be nice to see our PM tomorrow morning in a nice plain non-branded tracky-daks.

Here i sit in Bordeaux, probably the closest city so far to remind me of Melbourne. But who wants to be thinking of Melbourne when there is so much to absorb and appreciate. The French are intriguing people. They seem to be

Its often my favourite time down there. Last night the waves were hitting the concrete wall and one side of the pier had way too much sand, the tide was out, and on the other side the tide was in too close! Nobody else around, except a runner who kept moving, he had the wind with him now, I hope he didn’t have to turn back and face the wind head on. It was just me and the debris that had been washed up. As fo debris, I would love to have discovered some sea urchins, cuttlefish and fresh seaweed though what I saw was several tennis balls and plastic - plastic in all shapes and forms.

Really just me and the plastic, left to do what ever we wish. No ice cream vans, no prams, no sun, no P-platers with there doof doof pumping in the car park, just the wind, water, spray, plastic and me.. and I loved it.

This morning in the wee hours I left one of my bookoftodays.com down at the Prahran train station.

People are standing there awaiting their train to Melbourne City, most look disheartened. There is the free MX Magazine available at the terminal, full of crap, rubbish, just stuff that titillate, but no depth, nothing to inspire, nothing to bring the individual into their own power.

So I thought I would leave my little book there on the bench, along side someone’s bag. Sure enough I got a few looks….whats this fella doing leaving a book on a bench, then departing?? I left, went down to my coffee shop, then on my way back to work I looked to see if my book had departed on the next train. Yes, it’s gone!! Joy for me and hopefully for someone reading it right now!. Perhaps it was picked up, he read the first page, scoffed and threw it inthe bin, thats fine too, its not as important that the message is understood or appreciated, it’s more important that the message is delivered. I live in hope that someone may find it on the Melbourne trains today and instead of reading about the latest crime in Mx, they may resonate with a page out of bookoftodays.

after some time lost out there in my own little world, I have stepped back into the web again, so you can look forward to further waffle.