One week into the new year andI’m sick with COVID.
Luckily it’s a very mild case and I’m barely showing any symptoms beyond a slight fever and a very sore throat. But even in that instance, the coughing fits have been mild and I’m not bed ridden like I was a few years ago, when I got it properly.
Perhaps the most annoying aspect is the fact that I’ve been cooped up in my room for the past 3 days and it’s definitely not a very enjoyable sick holiday off from work. With very little fresh air, room to exercise … I look forwards to the fleeting moments where I am allowed to shower and home cook.
Home cooking … that is something I’ve missed a lot. A subtle resolution this year is to expand on the dishes I feel comfortable making, and I really had the opportunity to do that this week.
I even snuck out to do some grocery shopping, and bought home some key essentials to really have fun in the kitchen.
There are so many things I know I would change or have on standby every single week when I finally move out. Things like chopped garlic, bigger chopping boards, bigger kitchen benches, certain oils in the pantry … they only come when you spend a lot of time in the kitchen and really find out what you dislike and like doing on the regular.
So many recipes I’ve made, whether they be Italian, Japanese or Chinese, need an almost mythical amount of garlic. In many ways, I would love a small vegetable patch in my future home, where I can grow these essentials out the back whenever I need them.
Not only is it fresh, it’s also more sustainable and economically more feasible and will instil a greater appreciation for the ingredients I use.
In a lot of ways, home cooking reminds me of an exciting learning environment. You get to experiment, understand basic rules, discover new flavours and feel pride when you make something extremely edible. It’s such a fun journey to embark on once you start and the sense of accomplishment when you finish at the end is always amazing and sometimes very bittersweet.
But beyond expanding my repertoire of recipes (I’ve made pesto for the first time, drunken noodles and experimented with new techniques for fried rice), this quarantine has given me a bit of time to write at home which is also very nice.
I do miss days like this, where I had all day to really fulfill all my lazy desires, but I don’t want them to come often. It feels like I haven’t worked hard enough to earn this random respite and I really want to get back into things properly, so that I have good habits and routines.
This is an abnormality and needs to be treated as such.
So, in spite of catching COVID, there have been no significant developments this week. A lot more work needs to be done in my new role and I’m looking forwards to establishing a proper rhythm soon, so that I can focus more on other things like my hobbies, my partner and my writing.
I want to draft a film noir script this year and once work has settled properly, I think I’ll have time to start it.
It’s a new year, so it’s time to turn up a new gear.
Let’s start by listing some classic New Year Resolutions for 2024.
Lose some weight. The happy weight is no longer an adorable feature. It is now a genuine problem. Aesthetically anyway.
Start integrating my partner more into my wider circle of friends
Maintain a disciplined financial plan
Start reconnecting with friends and actually plan out proper days
Continue to balance work and life
It all sounds pretty basic, but as I noticed a long time ago when studying Special Forces operators, the secret to success lies with discipline and mastery of the basics.
The key difference between a regular U.S. Army grunt and a U.S. Army Ranger, is distilled down to a single fact …. the Ranger has the basics of infantry warfare nailed down to a capital I.
2024 is the year where I start looking at the Dragon that rules the year and praying to her to really put some long-lasting, healthy habits and routines that will do me good in the future. The theme and key word of the year is discipline and whilst it may sound corny, there is a hell of lot personal motivation for me to stick to that.
Because I no longer have any excuses. I can no longer blame work, nor my circumstances. It’s time to get off my arse and actually put in some work.
Working out once a day for an hour is not a big ask. Nor is dieting. Controlling what I eat is 70% of the fight when it comes to addressing the first resolution. Stick to small meals, drink more water and just cut out the damn snacks. Three simple steps that are difficult to follow in the foodie heaven that is Melbourne but still that is the point of the game. Stick to the rules, ignore the temptations and get out of the traps I’ve laid myself into.
The next resolution is an evolution of my relationship. My partner and I have very different friend circles, with various personalities and stages of their lives. That is just the reality of having met each other in very different circumstances and with no prior contact at all.
But there is a reason why our bond is so strong, and it is because we have such similar personalities, outlooks and drives. So it makes sense that our friends would appreciate the other for the same qualities. Our goal is to have a “friendmas” at the end of the year and not have it be awkward. In addition to that, just being able to go on more dates where we have our friends, instead of just us, is a definite positive. It opens up more activities and better memories.
Finance. My Achilles heel. I’m a spender not a saver. But they say clarity is something you get when you can, not when it is convenient, and since I am so much older and with bigger dreams than my short-term fun, it is time to put money aside every single time I am getting paid. A goal that I have started very late last year in 2023, but 2024 will prove whether I truly have what it takes to be a disciplined human being.
Curbing the reckless expenditure, coming to terms with missing out on some truly special collectibles from Lego and not buying random clothes whenever I feel the urge to get something new are all key restraints that need to be addressed in 2024. It’s a mental game, just like so many other things, and part of being strong is to understand I do not need everything I see in the world.
I need to understand the value of items better and that value is weighed by emotion and monetary cost.
Another key problem I identified last year was my lack of engagement with my friends. Whilst I can bitch, whinge and moan about how hectic my life is, the simple matter of the fact is … I got lazy and started to neglect them. It’s time to change that and actually put some effort and time in going out, spending time with my friends and actually catching up with their lives. After all, I’m nothing without my friends and it’s crucial that I don’t lose them, because … I got lazy.
What a stupid excuse.
Time to step it up.
The final resolution is probably the longest and oldest problem in the world. Balance your partner, work, hobbies, self-care and friends.
To be honest, it’s about separating days in a week and really planning them ahead, on a molecular level. Split them apart into an hourly basis and start prioritising elements that can combine both or the more crucial element. Which means my calendar management needs to be on-fucking-point.
It’s time to put aside some time in the week to plan my week ahead and reach out to my friends, my partner and my work to see what I can do to balance everything.
Whilst I’ve made a lot of logical and sensible plans for all these resolutions, talk is cheap. Action means a lot more and this weekly reflection is a means for me to actually track my progress.
I’ll be adding a simple fitness check on the top of the post now, to really pressure me into disciplining myself.
It’s time to awaken the sleeping dragon and really instil some discipline into my life.
This is now the start of my D24 challenge. The Damocles 24 challenge.
Squandered potential … like most of Ridley’s films.
Before I get really stuck into this review, I’ll address my personal bias against Ridley Scott. Personally I do not like a lot of his filmography. Too many of them suffer from the same fatal flaws …. action scenes that are cut a million times and do not properly portray combat in a clear, visual manner, terribly paced plots that often drag scenes on for too long, stories that are rife with historical inaccuracies and perhaps most annoyingly of all, Ridley loves to insert very unnuanced political views into historical eras without really considering the context of the times.
I must also add that I am a huge fan of the Napoleonic era. It is my favourite period of human history and to say I have huge admiration for the man whose era it is named after, is an understatement. Every student of history has a megalomaniac that they admire and my choice is the Corsican who built an empire that has touched the lives of every single person in 18th century Europe ever since he proclaimed himself Emperor of France.
When I first watched the trailer, I could not think of a better casted man to portray the man. Joaquin Phoenix is completely believable as Napoleon. But my heart sank the moment the trailer started to cast the man in strong words: Emperor, Lover, Tyrant, Legend.
Out of all the words, associated with the myth and historical facts about the man, “lover” is not one I would have chosen. Tyrant is also a questionable choice, especially considering the political landscape of Europe at the time, where literal Russians and Austrians emperors ruled with absolute power and Napoleon was just one of many kings, emperors and princes fighting to consolidate control over Europe.
Then I saw the dreaded words that Ridley Scott would be directing the film and I basically wrote off the film.
Walking into the cinema, I expected something bad.
I got something worse.
Squandered opportunity.
To say that the British have always long hated and character assassinated the man who transformed Europe, is an understatement. Even during the Napoleonic era, they were propagating propaganda about the man, deriding his short stature (he was actually of average height for the time), his many affairs (Josephine was hardly the focus of Napoleon’s many romantic conquests) and his many eccentricities (not wrong there).
None of which I blame the British for. After all, they were mortal enemies locked in different spheres of war. Britain ruled the seas, but could never quite best Napoleon on land. The elephant and the whale locked in combat.
But my problem with the film, is that it was very clear that Ridley had a lot of British bias walking in. Both he and the writer of the film, chose to portray Napoleon in a very bizarre light.
They focus almost 80% of the runtime on Napoleon’s romance with Josephine.
When you have an era of history as epic as the Napoleonic era; the last real historical use of mass cavalry charges, the sole period of history where both guns and swords were used in equal measure, where men had to walk in orderly lines in the face of musket and cannon fire, and the romantic notion of officers leading men into battle were still prioritised … Ridley chose to focus all the film’s attention to a romance that is historically inaccurate and worse of all …. boring.
Audiences were promised gunpowder, muskets, cannons, horses, swords and old school European chivalric officers.
They got a love story between a chemistry-free Joaquin and Vanessa.
It is one of the most bizarre choices I have ever seen made about a historical figure as mythical as Napoleon. Beyond that, it is a very strange choice for a filmmaker. To focus so much on Josephine, who is not a very well known in history beyond her obsession with roses, and patronage of the arts, is an exceedingly weird choice for a film with such a short and tight run-time to cram in so many important events.
It is not like the two leads have a simmering allure to them either. If anything, the two actors are attempting their best to showcase a romance, but it is so flat and dull and it goes on for so long that when the action scenes do come, it is like a breath of fresh air to get away from such a sluggish story. Perhaps my biggest issue is the fact that Ridley construes the entire film, and key events around the romance.
There is literally not a scene that goes by, without Napoleon professing his love for Josephine, but as a narrative theme, it lacks panache that really dives into his psyche and why he wants to control so much of Europe and establish an empire. It is not like the film specifically attributes so much of Napoleon’s conquest and victories to the desires of Josephine. The reason why the romance fails, is because Josephine is not a Lady Macbeth, pushing and urging Napoleon to conquer more and more. Without that somewhat unique angle, the romance and the overall thematic arch of the film falls.
What would have been a better angle is the idea that Napoleon truly believes in his own self-worth and is unflinching, stubborn and set in his ways to the whims of the world around him. After all, this is a man who proclaims to walk in the footsteps of Alexander, Caesar and Charlemagne. To see him win countless battles against insurmountable odds, and witness his ego grow and grow, only to finally have it checked by a Russian winter, a disastrous Spanish campaign and the exile would have been an excellent theme for the film.
The film should have charted the course of a young Napoleon, whose early ambition, military genius and rise to emperorship grant him an unbearable confidence and ego. Then in the second half of the film, showcase his military blunders, how being the Emperor of a vast empire beset by enemies takes a toll on his mental state and how his eventual exile ruins his ego.
And perhaps as a neat way to truly showcase Napoleon’s drive and ambition, the third act should have showcased how Bonaparte builds himself up again whilst in exile, creating an unshakeable belief in his ability, that culminates in him returning to France. This would lead to him taking over the country without a single shot, be shocked by just how dire straits France is in, and realise his return was a mistake, a mistake that is nailed finally by his defeat at Waterloo.
Such a turbulent emotional and mental journey into Napoleon’s psyche would have been much more compelling viewing, and display how his generals were brilliant aides to his genius, as well as showcasing why France and her Grande Armee, was so eager to follow Napoleon into the jaws of death.
Instead of this in-depth look into Napoleon, Ridley instead gave audiences a film that skims over history, focuses on an unromantic love story, doesn’t establish the titular character well and shortcuts its way through battle scenes. Napoleon by Ridley main problem is prevalent in many of his later works recently …. the films feel lazy. Like Ridley stole some of the best ideas but was too lazy to put in any real work, much like a much-derided video game company known as Ubisoft.
No scene sums it up better, than condensing Napoleon’s entire Egyptian campaign to a scene where Napoleon supposedly shoots a cannon at the Pyramids. WHICH NEVER BLOODY HAPPENED.
Ridley entirely skips over the fact that Napoleon lost a huge portion of the French Navy in the disastrous Battle of the Nile, that the Egyptians revolted against Napoleon’s rule and that he was stranded in Egypt with no way to get home for months.
In fact, I read that in an interview with The Times, Ridley defended his depiction of the attack on the pyramids as being “a fast way of saying Napoleon took Egypt” which infuriates me, because he is rewriting history for many of the audience out there, and that is an extremely dangerous action to take in a world so full of misinformation.
Plot aside, Ridley’s vision of Napoleon is undeniably attractive. The visuals of the film are remarkably immersive. There is incredibly strong work by Dariusz Wolsiki. So many scenes invoke a more romantic time of grand warfare, with uniforms glistening bright and the tricolour of France flying high above the heads of her men.
From a visual standpoint alone, the film is beautifully shot, the CGI barely noticeable and the overall viewing experience is excellent. So many scenes immerse you in the past, giving the audience an evocative look into the past. But the actions scenes themselves are horribly cut. They fare OK, right up the two armies clash into each other. Then it becomes a brutal mess, without any nod to how Napoleon actually won the famous battles he was involved in.
In addition, the film is remarkably absent of any tension when it comes to the action, because it never sets up the stakes, the key generals involved and how the terrain is established. Napoleon and his many generals are never acknowledged for their tactical and military genius, how they bested 4 huge European armies that had to band together to defeat France’s Grande Armee.
Aside from the cinematography, I also liked the score somewhat. Whilst lacking originality, it did a good job in staying true to the times and punching above its weight when it came to certain “epic” moments. In particular, I loved Napoleon’s piano theme and thought it really captured the era and personality of the Emperor.
Overall, Ridley Scott’s vision of Napoleon, is visually appealing, but lacks any of the drive, ambition, charisma or romance that the titular character is known for. It is such a shame the film turned out the way it did, because the cast, uniform and period setting would have made for an epic film that would have restored a lot of interest in the era of history. In all honestly, I truly wished this film was handled by a different director and writer with more respect given to the legendary French emperor.
To sum it up in a sentence? Ridley, please stop taking the best ideas and giving us lazy executions of them.
A scene to recall: When Napoleon takes Toulon. It is both incredible and maddening, because it gives me hope the film can be epic, only to instantly let me down when the action scene is cut barbarically short.
Christmas is upon us …. and I’m finally stabilising things at work.
It’s probably the best Christmas gift I could have given myself, given how absolutely chaotic everything has been at work for the past 3 months.
After struggling for two months, dealing with chaotic schedules, holidays, finances, and just the overall stress of adapting to a new job, I’m finally in a good place. I’ve made my demands clear on how I want to tackle my new full time job, how I want to free up more time for my personal life and just overall work on ironing out huge issues with scheduling and time management.
To their credit, Messina has agreed to a lot of my demands and are currently working on ensuring that my start to 2024 is as smooth as possible. I’m working more normal hours, tackling more responsibilities and will be doing less grunt work.
All of which is music to my ears. It means I can spend more time with my partner, friends and hobbies. I can also give Fed Square more availabilities, and just focus on my personal health which has been taking the longest hiatus for 2 years now.
Stability breeds discipline and I cannot wait to get myself in a more disciplined state of mind going into 2024. I want everything to be more orderly and less chaotic, because by being in more control of my work hours, I can then devote time to my fitness, hobbies and partner. It also means that my finances should start to stabilise and that is the whole point of working full time.
No more different amounts of money coming every week, no more weird hours (except on rare occasions), more time dedicated to stuff I want to work on …. there is simply no cons to this.
And I want it to work out very badly.
But even though I have all these hopes and dreams for 2024, I know that I got to put in consistent effort and work to ensure that my precious stability stays stable. All this effort did not come easy. I had to be honest, brutal and critical with my feedback, whilst making sure that I was understanding about how chaotic the event industry is, in general.
In a lot of ways, the past two months have created so many opportunities where I learned a lot about myself, how my partner is so incredible supportive and patient despite the hardships and how I need to be firm yet professional about how I go about things.
I’m excited for 2024, simply because I finally landed a full time job and it is starting to pay off. My hours should start to regulate and with that ….. my whole life will finally experience some proper discipline.
New Zealand is now officially the second country I’ve travelled to overseas and in many ways, it is so similar to home, but also highly different.
I spent 10 days in a country that is famed for its incredible scenery and by the tenth day there was no doubt in my mind that New Zealand is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. No matter what angle, road, or view you see the country, it will take your breath away.
The sheer amount of green is astonishing. It rolls for hills and mountains as far as the eye can see, and I personally think that road tripping in NZ is an underrated experience. There is no better way to experience the sheer greenery and lush vegetation NZ is famous for, than epic road trips across the islands.
My partner and I chose to visit the North Island, considering she had already experienced the South Island and in a lot of ways, the more tourist-trap nature of Queenstown and Christchurch made me want to avoid it anyway.
Not that the North Island was any less stunning or tourist friendly. Because it still blew my breath away wherever I drove, whether it was through the Tongariro National Park, the suburbs of Auckland or through smaller towns like Hamilton.
The North Island was stacked with things to do, drive around and experiences. So without further ado, I shall dive into each of my most memorable moments on my holiday with my partner as well as give general opinions on architecture, food and the overall vibes we experienced.
NZ Atmosphere
The New Zealand atmosphere is a lot like my home country of Australia with one exception …. it’s even more relaxed. Roads crawl around at 50km/h, a far cry from the 60km/h I am used to at home. People walk slower when crossing the streets. Hell, even the iconic accent makes people seem more relaxed and chill.
In many ways, NZ really proves itself as the idyllic place to retire. The scenery, air, lifestyle and overall pace suits people who want to slow down and actually enjoy smelling the roses. At the ripe age of 30, I’m nowhere near that level of sedentary action. If anything, I found myself frequently breaking the road rules, consistently travelling at 60km/h in a 50 zone and deliberating and regularly, pushing my car to 150km/h in a 110km/h country road. It got to the point where I even maxed out my car at 170km/h but had to slow down for a truck in front of me.
Driving though, was the name of the game for the trip. There were very little public transport options, but in a place where number plates have yet to switch up their 3 letters/3 numbers combinations (it is still ABC 123 vs the Australian A0B 1C3), the road population was so small and relaxed that getting around was no issue at all.
Even the way how the New Zealanders treat each other is beautifully courteous and friendly. The amount of times where incoming cars flashed their high-beams at me to warn me of police cars up ahead was too numerous to count. It’s clear, especially in the regional roads, everyone speeds, but do their best to look after one another and not get busted by the highway patrol.
A big moment that stood out to me was when I was driving behind one of NZ’s iconic “traffic cones” trucks and the driver, knowing I was the faster car, checked the road in front of him, then waved me on, to overtake. It was a sweet gesture that I thumbed up, and he returned the motion. These little interactions with the local Maori people proved to me just how friendly, warm, and relaxed they are, no matter the occasion.
The only thing that really soured the road trip element was just the sheer amount of road works that were happening everywhere. I suppose it only makes sense, considering the fact that NZ lies on a major fault line in the earth’s crust, and hence roads need constant maintenance to fight against the detrimental effects of earthquakes, but it was still annoying nevertheless having to slow down so much.
Overall though, NZ is a stunning, beautiful location that gives other famous mountainous regions like the Swiss Alps and Japan a run for its money. It is so gorgeous that it looks fake. There were so many moments where I had to stop the car and just take a photo and the number of selfies my partner and I took at so many scenic landscapes are obscene. From our stop in Huka Falls which is a breathtaking view of fast moving water, to the top of Skyline Rotorua, New Zealand had some many gorgeous water features that it consistently took my breath away.
I cannot recommend visiting this country enough. It’s like Australia but greener, more relaxed and just as friendly. The people were just great, and I still laugh at my partner’s reaction to hearing the iconic Kiwi accent over an automated “Countdown” register (Woolworths to us Aussies).
NZ Architecture
If there is one thing I love doing when visiting another country, is checking out unique architecture. I don’t know when I became fixated on unique buildings and their styles, but it’s been a slow, but growing passion of mine to see and admire them whenever I can.
Unlike a lot of people, I tend to revolt against modern designs. I’m progressive in a lot of my views when it comes to politics, but regressive when it comes to art. I prefer looking at things that evoke some type of classicism.
And I was in for a treat in New Zealand.
Architecturally, New Zealand has a lot of old world charm. Unlike Melbourne, which is constantly updating itself with new designs that evoke the year we live in, New Zealand is decidedly against a lot of modern aesthetics. So many buildings in NZ are examples of bygone eras. From art deco, to more brutalist architecture, NZ’s cities have a very unique, and simple style to them that I really like, especially since I come from a city where everything is always so polished, new and sometimes very bizarre.
Of the two cities, it was Auckland that really stuck out to me as the most interesting. Wellington in a lot of ways, reminds me of Australia’s tiny island capital, Hobart. They are both coastal cities, facing out the open water, built into the side of mountains and possess similar, old, battered buildings that are more functional than aesthetically pleasing. The buildings are very plain, and short, without much height or differentiating features.
In short, Wellington is a small port city with no real distinctive flair.
Auckland on the other hand, had a lot more diverse architectural styles within its borders. Beyond the obvious Sky Tower, there was also the incredible Domain Wintergarden which looked amazing as it resembled the neoclassical style that was so popular during the World’s Columbian Exposition (Chicago’s World Fair), an architectural movement that I have been obsessed with since I saw images of the fair held in 1893.
With its Greco-Roman inspired marble statues, large central fountain and courtyard combination and beautifully rounded domed roofs and crystal clear glass structure, the Domain Wintergarden was a brief portal for me. It transported me into a time when the world was a bit more exciting, because of all the things we didn’t know. A time where you had to visit these fairs to see what the outside world held. The flowers that were on display in the Wintergarden was amazing, as was the incredible Fernery nearby that had this brilliant support roof that allowed ferns and vines to grow all over it. It was so lush, green and dense that it was like stepping into a forest, except in the middle of a bustling urban environment.
Other notable buildings included the very odd, very traditional Chinese pagoda style building known as Choice Plaza. Red, green and so very Chinese, it immediately surprised me, because such buildings were rare to see, but it made all the more sense, for being in the very Asian oriented street of Auckland.
In fact a lot of Auckland’s architecture had this old school vibe to it. Certain buildings were fully Gothic in their facade, others like the Guardian were “Stripped Classical” with their faded dark colours, antique clocks overhanging the streets and so many others looked like they were built in the 90s and never progressed beyond their yellowing old tiles, dated columns and 80s rooftops.
The prime example of course being the highly bizarre and supremely ugly Sky World Indoor Entertainment, with its strange mix of old and new clashing together in an ad-hoc fashion. The front of Sky World with its brown marble and glass curved exterior that has a strange crown up top is meshed into a 90s style glass building that is devoid of any real personality. Its bizarre, its weird, its ugly and when I walked past it, in late 2023, it was for sale and in dire need of refurbishment. Not a good look for what is supposed to the main public square of Auckland.
In a lot of ways, it reminds me of my own work place at Federation Square. I don’t know what designers were thinking back then, but honestly, I really wished they scaled back the outlandish ideas to make public square eyesores.
Overall, the architecture in the North Island is very similar to Australia. A mix of ultra modern buildings that grow over the mess of old decaying 90s malls and wide pedestrian streets that are beautifully lined with tall green trees.
It felt like home and overall I would argue that Auckland is much more reminiscent of Sydney than Melbourne. Sydney has a lot of similar styles that can be seen in Auckland and I think they are much closer to sister cities. Melbourne, for all her beauty, is a newer city than loves to destroy old remnants than sully her overall modern theme.
I’m happy to see that Auckland does nothing of the sort and remains as eclectic as it first started.
NZ Food
Food in NZ is more Americanised than I realised. But I say that with a biased lens as a guy who has grown up in Melbourne food culture. The servings are a bit bigger, the food doesn’t quite hit my palette as hard as it does at home, and overall, it wasn’t anything to really write home about.
I never really got to try what authentic kiwi food really is, as we mostly ate road-trip food and found random Asian spots. What I did notice though was the sheer number of fast food options that NZ has. Taco Bell, KFC, McDonalds, Burger King, Wendys … the chains were everywhere. It was no small wonder that local restaurants weren’t pushed to exceed, because these options dominated so much of the local market.
All in all, I didn’t find many restaurants that were worthy to write home about in NZ, with the exception of 2 places. An Italian place in Wellington called Scopa, and a Vietnamese place in Rotorua called Saigon ’60s. The Vietnamese place was a surprising stop, because the food was actually OK.
I’ve made it a morbid habit to visit at least one Vietnamese restaurant whenever I travel somewhere foreign, and in this case, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had. It definitely toned down the Vietnamese flavours like lemongrass and fish sauce though, but I suspect it’s a way of mollifying the cuisine to a very Western area of NZ.
Scopa was another spontaneous decision. My partner and I had just finished eating at an Argentinian steak place and weren’t too impressed with the quality of the food or the decor. We needed something to cheer us up, after spending a decent amount of money. On a whim, I saw Scopa, and intrigued by the clear Italo-disco 70s aesthetic of the restaurant, I dragged my partner in for our favourite dessert, tiramisu.
Now, having tasted Melbourne’s greatest tiramisu at Grossi, I can honestly say that Scopa’s tiramisu is the closest I’ve ever had that comes to the greatness of Grossi and that is one of the greatest compliments I can give.
Finally, I have to discuss Wendy’s. The iconic redhead burger chain was everywhere in NZ and I’ve always been so curious about American fast food in general. To my astonishment, it was actually pretty good. The burgers tasted fresh, the chips were the perfect blend of thick cut and salty and the only complaint I had was that the “medium” size for the drinks were absolutely enormous. They could have definitely downsized the drink, but some things are too American to be tamed. My partner and I ended up visiting Wendy’s more than we originally thought, mostly because of the road trip nature of our holiday.
Hamilton Gardens
Hamilton Gardens was one of the biggest highlights of the trip for me. For those who are unaware, my father is big on gardening. Whilst that passion has not really caught on with me (I much prefer my books and firearms), there is an undeniable element inside of me that appreciates excellent horticulture and landscaping work because of how hard my father worked on the family home’s front and back yard.
And let me just say that Hamilton Gardens has one of the most incredible and original ideas for their vision of what a landscaping tourist attraction should be.
Instead of just one singular theme, like the Royal Botanical Gardens here in Melbourne, Hamilton chose to do multiple themes, giving visitors glimpses into the past and around the world.
Tudor. Ancient Egyptian. Surrealist. Modernist. Italian Renaissance. Indian Char Bagh. Chinese Scholar. Japanese Zen. English Flowers. Herb Garden … the list goes on. There is so much to explore, admire and soak in. In a lot of ways, it’s an incredibly immersive portal into the past and I found myself stunned by the sheer effort the staff put in.
For example, with the Ancient Egyptian Garden, there are actual walls with hieroglyphics that are faded on the outside, but the moment you step in, you are awash with colour. For the Tudor Garden, they actually had the small parapet of a medieval structure in the corner and the iconic striped ribbon poles adorned across the Garden. For the Italian Renaissance section, I laughed out loud when I saw the legendary female wolf statue that nursed Romulus and Remus, the Capitoline Wolf.
As a massive history nerd, I was truly in love with the Gardens. It was a time machine that really allowed me to catch an glimpse into the past that I always wanted to explore.
If you had to guess which Garden was my favourite? It’s a close tie between the Italian Renaissance and the Ancient Egyptian. I love both time periods and it made me sad that such ancient beauty isn’t as commonplace anymore.
The Lord of the Rings
Along with Star Wars, Star Trek and countless other random nerdy pop culture franchises, LOTR was one of the biggest formative cinematic experiences of my childhood. Described by my father as one of the greatest trilogies he has ever seen, LOTR exposed me to the world of fantasy and how incredibly fascinating it was to read about wizards, hobbits, elves and Uruk-hai.
Whilst I am certainly no LOTR expert, I knew what I saw on screen looked cool. Middle Earth is equally brutal as it is beautiful and New Zealand perfectly encapsulates that. Knowing that I was going to NZ meant that I had to at least indulge a little bit, in my nerdy passion for LOTR.
This meant a trip to Hobbiton and the Weta workshop in Wellington.
Weta was an amazing time, seeing all the cool props that have populated so many of my favourite movies. But what made it incredible, was the amount of knowledge that was dropped during the tour. There were so many fascinating, cool, realistic and scary props on display that showcased the artistry, talent and skill that so many of these prop-makers possess behind their hands.
It still boggles my mind how much work goes into every single little detail seen on screen. The chain mail seen in LOTR had be built on a mass scale, whilst balancing looking right, yet being light enough to wear for hours on end. The bristles on a giant wasp came from horse hair that had to be treated just right.
Overall, walking into the workshop was like wandering into a cave of the most eclectic uncle you’ve have in your family. Swords, sci-fi guns, armour, books … random animatronics … I can only imagine just how much cool technology and gear the Weta workshop make on a daily basis and I left the workshop, more appreciative of the artisans behind the scenes of these movies.
What really stole the show though, was my visit to Hobbiton. It so happened that the day we went to visit the set, was actually the first ever day they opened up the expansion to the tour. An expansion that allowed you to actually go inside a Hobbit home and truly immerse yourself.
Walking in and seeing every single detail that populated the bedroom, the kitchen, the pantry, the living room, the hallway, the reading room … it was simply amazing. I couldn’t imagine going on the movie tour without this segment. It elevated the entire experience and I really loved looking at how much work was put into making the Hobbit home feel lived in.
It was truly amazing to see how much work Peter Jackson put into building the set in the side of the Alexander Farm’s rolling green hills. I couldn’t believe how they made the little tavern, the small lake and the sheer planning and detail that went into building this tiny fantasy town. In many ways, it represents the heart of the entire franchise and I was glad I got to visit it with my partner.
The NZ Cultural Experiences
This is just a quick recap on some key cultural experiences that my partner and I visited and experienced.
The Waitomo Glow Worm Caves
The famous Glow Worm Caves of Waitomo was definitely a fun experience. Thankfully, I visited these caves before I became hooked on the Scary Interesting channel which has fundamentally warned me away from visiting a cave or swimming deep ever again.
The actual trip to the Glow Worm was already hectic. Rain poured the entire way there, soaking our rental car and making me thankful that I bought my Arcteryx Gamma jacket and On Running shoes. It didn’t help that we were running late according to the GPS, but my hours of driving F1 cars through thick rain on simulators came in handy and I was able to keep an average of 130km/h on the windy NZ roads the entire way there.
When we got there, I was struck by the way the tourist centre incorporated itself into the natural landscape. The building was echoing Maori architecture and it was grand how tall the roof was, shielding tourists like me from the rain. The mist that surrounded the entire area was cold, yet adding a touch of magic to the atmosphere. It was like walking into an older part of the world.
The cave itself was a humble entrance, with well designed walkways, handrails and plenty of stalactites and stalagmites to enthral everyone who walked in. But it was the pitch black descent onto a boat, that floated on an underground river that really got everyone. The moment the boat cast away from the dock and I could see our guide’s hand feeling her way through the river with rope, I felt a certain trepidation about the entire thing.
But that disappeared the moment the glow worms came into view.
It was like looking up at the sky filled with thousands of stars. The electric blue glows of the worms was beautiful, haunting and oddly peaceful. I remember squeezing my partner’s hand and feeling a serene glow overcome me as I stared the endless clusters of lights emanating from the roof. The only downside to this tour, was the time spent looking at the worms was far too short and before I knew it, we were struck by harsh daylight and the magic was over.
For a second, I wondered whether it would be amazing to be the first cave explorers to see these wonders, but after seeing how many times things go wrong in caves on the Sean’s Youtube channel, I’m going to hard pass on those opportunities. Caving isn’t for me.
Te Puia Geyser
The Te Puia tour we took in Rotorua was a spur of the moment decision. I remember driving up to the Te Puia Centre and it was a hot day. So hot that I was sweating in my polo, and I was cradling a massive medium sized cup of Lemon and Paeroa (my new favourite soft drink) from Wendys. I looked like every fat Western tourist ever and the photo my partner took of me outside the centre was hilarious.
The tour we went on was actually a lot more of a cultural education than I anticipated. It wasn’t just to see the famous geyser. It actually took us to a small kiwi enclosure where we could see them for the first time, and they were just as adorable as I imagined them to be. It’s actually quite sad to know that they were close to extinction due to dogs and cats wiping out so much of the native population.
After the Kiwi enclosure, came the geyser itself and the hot mud pools which were both amazing to look out, but also highly uncomfortable as it was already hot and getting closer to these natural marvels meant I was burning up even more. Whilst I’ve never seen a geyser in reality, I wasn’t that impressed by the phenomenon. I was however curious at how much the surrounding rocks and water changed in look having put up with these spray for hundreds of years. The yellow-baked white spray across the water and rocks made everything look so alien, that I was briefly reminded of all the science books I read about other planet surfaces.
Seeing how everything was bubbling, uncomfortably hot and smelled awful, just told me deep down how much other planets are inhospitable to humans.
The rest of the tour lacked that amusing anecdote but it was actually quite fascinating to see the New Zealand Maori Arts and Crafts in action, with students crafting incredible Maori art and textiles. Whilst many of the items were beyond my budget, I did wish I had something to bring home from that exhibit and store.
Shopping Centre
One of the silliest tests in my mind, when comparing things to back home, is going into a country’s biggest, and most impressive shopping centre and comparing it to Chadstone back home. For those in the dark about Chaddy, it is one of the biggest and most impressive in Australia. Luxury brands, entertainment, food … there is an unwritten rule in Melbourne about Chaddy. If you are a new brand, you need to open one store in the CBD and one in Chadstone to truly make it here.
The shopping centre my partner and I wandered around for a few hours in Auckland was Newmarket. Whilst it was impressive, in my mind, it reminded me too much of Doncaster. Whilst big, and boasting a few luxury brands, Newmarket was decidedly smaller and less impressive than I thought.
But that comparison is irrelevant. Because for the first time in NZ, I tried the famous St Pierre’s Sushi chain at Newmarket.
Needless to say I was disappointed with the quality, choice of sushi on display and the flavours. It has nothing on Sushi Hub here in Australia and for such a big chain, I can’t believe people enjoy St Pierre with regularity.
They don’t even do nigiri …
But that is enough ragging on St. Pierre. At Newmarket, it was nice. The shops were nice, the architecture was modern with plenty of natural light filtering through and to be honest, that was all it had to be …. nice.
Alpacas
My partner clamoured me to visit an alpaca farm for the entirety of our planning. I was ambivalent about the whole thing, but in all honesty, who can deny cute animals?
So imagine my surprise, when despite her eagerness, she froze up in fear at the sight of the animals and couldn’t hand feed them.
I ended up having to feed all of them. Their teeth actually tickled my hand a lot and it was a really fun experience for me, getting so close to such fluffy and cute animals. One thing that I definitely could have worked on was consoling my poor girlfriend though. She was terrified yet entranced by the alpacas and I should have comforted her a bit more.
In the end, we did snag a very cute souvenir (a tiny alpaca plush) and my partner didn’t seem to regret going to see these cute alpacas in reality. So that’s is what is important.
Street Market
There is an Auckland Night Market that bounces around the neighbourhood of the city every two weeks. This nomadic nature of the market means that it can appear in the most random locations and bring a party like atmosphere anywhere, any time.
The one we went to was in a Kmart underground parking lot and was dope as hell. Filled to the rafters with young people who brought their usual energy, vibes and custom cars, the night market was one of those experiences that made me feel like I was one of the locals. All kinds of people came to the market to trade their knock-off wares and buy random DVDs, croc charms and cheap NZ and Asian food. There was even a Vietnamese nail salon that offered its services and it was amazing to see lines of women waiting their turn.
There was a real authentic atmosphere in this tiny carpark where the night market had chosen its spot and that was what made it such an amazing experience. I loved walking around, checking out all the different kinds of food and trading cash with the cashiers. The down and dirty style of creating an event like this bought back so much nostalgia for me, because this was the kind of festival I liked going to as a kid.
The lack of safety oversight (no barriers between us and the hot cooking stove for example), the simple marquees, the eskies with drinks and ice …. this was the kind of festival I grew up around and being able to experience that same homely vibe in another country was just amazing.
The NZ Army
One of the most intriguing elements of NZ was the attitude towards the military. Unlike here in Australia, which largely dismisses or hides its military achievements, in NZ it was the opposite. I would like to argue that there is a direct link to the proud warrior traditions and culture of the Maori people to modern warfighting that ensures people who live in NZ are always respectful and solemn when it comes to all matters concerning the military.
After all, the national traditional dance, the haka is a war dance, designed to hype up its dancers to a bloodthirsty frenzy. Whilst it is a welcoming act, it is also a direct reminder of how Maori tribes used to fight each other for territory and supplies.
I think that this historical context is important to the reverence I can sense in a lot of people when it comes to war. They are proud of their small but capable military and are not afraid to show it.
This was seen in 3 major ways across my trip. The first, was obvious. A lot of the street names are named after famous military figures or battles. The second was the Gallipoli exhibition in the Te Papa national museum. Designed and created by the famous Weta workshop, these stunning, 3x larger than life statues are stunningly realistic and haunting. I was obsessed with the amount of details and care the geniuses at Weta put into these statues and they are a brilliant testament to the men and women who fought in WW1.
From the uniforms, the hairs on the statue faces, the oversized pistols and ornaments, the Gallipoli exhibition is truly a haunting experience. I don’t think anyone who walks out of that exhibition will underestimate just how seriously the people of New Zealand treat their military past.
The final major element for me was the amazing National Army Museum at the foot of Mt. Ruapehu (picture above). Even when you first walk in, you are greeted with the jade green of NZ’s national stone and hundreds of red poppies that commemorate NZ’s role in WW1. It’s a beautiful entrance to a huge museum that showcases every single aspect of every war NZ has ever been involved in.
From enemy weapons, to allies uniforms, there is so much to see, stare at and study in that museum. Japanese WW2 uniforms are shown next to Viet-Cong equipment. Then in a room over, you can see a mock-up what it is like to man a machine-gun nest in Africa, to experience what the infamous SASR go through in training, and even look at recovered weapons that feature bullet frag in them.
What really got the inner gun nerd in me geeking out though, was the gun room.
From flintlocks, to HK 416 rifles, there was just so much firearm history in the bottom. I loved that they featured every single faction’s common weapons, like German MP40s next to New Zealand marked M16A1s. I bored my poor partner to tears, listing off every single weapon I recognised, every single calibre, where they were used and what role they fulfilled.
To me, stepping into that gun room, was like a time portal, where I could appreciate every single individual soldier’s commitment to a cause greater than themselves and that these were the tools they used to prove that commitment.
I loved it, and I loved exploring NZ’s military history, because the same reverence for the military is not prevalent here in Australia. I got to really indulge in my inner military historian side and that is one of the main reasons why NZ is so high up there.
That and for some bizarre reason, as I was driving through NZ, I came across a repurposed Mil Mi-8 Russian utility helicopter near Huka Falls.
It was so random, bizarre and upon further study, it used to be Fidel Castro’s transport helicopter, and was even briefly a Nicaraguan presidential helicopter.
Now, it’s latest addition to its provenance, was a brief stint as a tour helicopter for passengers across NZ before her sister ship was involved in a horrible accident. Right now though, she currently sits dormant, waiting for the next random military aviation enthusiast like myself to come by and gawk.
Airsoft
Being able to experience airsoft for the first time, was a dream and a nightmare come true for me. I’ve always been jealous of the events Americans hold in their home country, such as Milsim West and other insane large scale events.
After all, who doesn’t want to pretend to be a solider for a day.
But I quickly learned that airsoft hurts like a bitch.
First, it humbles me, at just how fast I die.
Second, it fractures my ego when I realise how much it hurts to get shot.
Third, it proves that the idea of doing CQB solo means that I die within seconds.
Airsoft was fun, frantic and painful. In so many ways, you need a team with you to cover all the angles and I have never felt so much adrenaline being dumped into my body when I score hits or take them. It’s such a huge rush prepping your weapon, clearing corners and constantly scanning your surroundings.
But alas, the weapon they gave me, was a piece of junk, it lacked power, range and rate of fire and constantly jammed.
Despite that though, I was more pleased with my outfit and loadout. I was testing my latest shoes from On Running, the Cloudwanders, putting some serious pace in my Levi’s jeans, and Arcteryx henley and finally getting a chance to rock the paintball mask I had bought for myself all those years ago.
What absolutely sucked though, was seeing my poor girlfriend get shot so many times and having a miserable experienced. What made it even worse was that I couldn’t even protect her properly.
Which of course, humbled me right away. It dashed my dreams of being some ultra slick operator with the skills to protect my girlfriend in a terrorist attack.
And whilst airsoft did bring my ego down by a huge margin, it did motivate me to get fitter, and learn to take risks and be aggressive. Because whenever I did just that …. I often came out on top.
So, the moral of the story here is, after a few rounds of airsoft?
Get fitter, get quicker and get better.
Just get good.
Otherwise I’m dead.
Skyline Rotorua
Rotorua might be one of the most attractive places I have ever seen.
If there was an image of what earth, wind and water looked like in combination, to show to an alien, Rotorua might be the most idyllic image to present.
The lake itself is practically a mini-ocean. The rock formations that form along the lake borders and the little islands in the middle are absolutely stunning. Everywhere you look, it’s an incredible view.
I don’t know how else to put it in words. There’s a peace and serenity to Rotorua that just makes you want to live an idyllic life by the water and the mountains. What’s more, is the Skyline attraction, in which you take a gorgeous cable car up the mountain, before sledding down in a tiny kart that only features brakes and limited steering.
I remember seeing the view as the cable car climbed and honestly, it took my breath away. It was such a beautiful, serene, untouched view of nature that I really wished more places looked like this.
After all, Australia does not have this level of green and blue. It’s much more golden and red, and I could instantly see why people in NZ seem much happier, less bothered by the troubles of the world. Because when you are graced with this kind of view every day, how could you stay unhappy?
Rotorua is just one of those places that lets you escape from the world with it’s beauty, slower pace and serene views. It’s the place where you want to retire to, and just live out the rest of your life in natural landscapes that let you breathe without stress, or fear.
Let’s just sum up Rotorua as … if I had to buy a retirement home … it would be there.
NZ Misadventures
My partner and I did a lot of random little things in NZ.
We accidentally stumbled across two festivals, one in Rotorua, a humble, family friendly one with local wares and food trucks.
And another, Christmas-beach themed one that prevented us from entering our apartment for 2 hours and nearly made us burst our bladders. It was there I got to see how different Australians are from New Zealanders. The traffic controller … could not give two toss about how much of a hurry we were in to get home.
He did everything with a nonchalance that was borderline infuriating yet oddly hilarious.
It was the classic Kiwi’s indifference that really sold to us the fact that we were in a different country. Because if it wasn’t for that, and all the green, we would have thought that the entire country was just another state back home.
All these small things though, paled in comparison to the night where I locked my partner and I outside our apartment at 9pm in the evening.
To clarify, in order to get into our apartment, it requires two keys or swipes. One to get into the apartment building, and the other to get into the apartment itself.
I forgot to take the apartment one with me when I went out with my partner to do some quick grocery shopping at night.
We had no idea what to do. We tried knocking on the neighbour’s door. I entertained the idea of parkouring my way up into the balcony and opening it from the inside. We tried searching up the building’s phone number. We scoured our Airbnb records for any phone number.
Nothing worked. No response to the numbers we had. It was too late. The owners were probably asleep.
In the end, we gave up and sat in our car, hopeless and annoyed that our home was so close, yet so far.
Full credit to my partner though, and this is one of those moments in our relationship where I know I made the right choice in choosing who will stay by my side for the rest of my life … she did not get mad at me.
She was upset, tired and understandably annoyed, but she knew I was beating myself up way more than she ever could. So instead, she worked with me to find solutions, talked me about of dumb ones and eventually just tried to settle herself comfortably in what was going to be a long night.
It was then, as I was looking at her with huge sorrow, and I was playing with the swipe card, that I noticed a phone number on the back of it.
I called it.
A WOMAN ANSWERED.
I was beyond ecstatic. The owner instantly empathised with our situation, and wracked her brain to find a way to get in. At first, she didn’t give us much hope, as it was likely we had to wait til morning to get back in.
But then, she remembered that there was a cleaning locker with all the copies of the swipe cards in the building, and we could access it via … the basement carpark.
The hope that sprung in our hearts was excessive to say the least.
We went on an immediate scavenger hunt for the key to the cleaner’s lockers. I found the key atop a carpark’s support beam and cracked open the locker.
We took every single combination with us and gripping each other’s hands tightly, we went to our apartment door and ….
Click.
Bingo.
Hallelujah.
We got in and gave each other the biggest hug, before I did the right thing and entrusted my partner with the swipe cards this time and returned the ones we borrowed, before sending off the biggest and most grateful thank you to the Airbnb owner.
It was around midnight when we finally got back into our apartment and honestly … that was one of the best sleeps we ever had on the trip.
It’s moments like those, where I look at my partner and just think to myself … I’m so glad, I’m on a holiday with the right one.
Yes, I shared some incredible moments on this holiday with her, but that right there, proved to me, that she was the right person for me and I cannot wait to go on another holiday with her soon.
They say that international trips can make or break a relationship.
New Zealand made ours even better than it already was.
And for that, Aotearoa will always have a soft spot in my heart.
Discipline … the one thing I’ve always struggled with.
I always struggled to pinpoint why I’ve always lacked discipline. For all accounts, when I had it for a year, I was the fittest and healthiest I’ve ever been.
I had the time to exercise, to go out, to balance work and pleasure and even to diet … it was all highly regimental and focused. I made sure I exercised every day, to eat a light meal and really push my body.
This golden period only lasted for a year before I jumped feet first into the world of events.
Ever since then, I’ve been praying and hoping that I find some kind of rhythm to settle down into. But that has eluded me.
Which means that I honestly need to re-evaluate getting up in the morning now to fit in something. Whether it will be writing, exercising, practising shooting with my guns, cooking or reading …. I need to maximise my time awake.
If my schedule really is as hectic as it seems, where I don’t seem to have regular work hours or days even, then I got to make time.
But where do I find the motivation? That is always the hardest part. It’s so easy to claim that I just need to put an hour aside for exercise, but whether I’ll actually do it, is an entirely different matter.
The same goes for dieting. If I am to lose some of the belly I’ve gained over the past year, how do I do that? I’m always out, in another location, without access to microwaves or implements.
The answer is obvious …. cooking cold meals. Kimbaps, pesto pastas, soba noodles, club sandwiches, salads … the options are there, they just don’t appeal to me as I want them to.
But these are general issues that I should have resolved ages ago. How about the past week?
As usual, Messina has proven itself to be a difficult workplace to figure out. The higher ups have an idea what they want me to be, but practically speaking, I’m just another convenient tough casual for them to abuse.
Sink or swim motherfucker.
That was the general vibe I’ve been getting since I signed up for the job. Zero inductions, constant random loans, fluctuating work hours, short notice, no proper SOPs in place ….
I was given an apron, a tea-towel, a uniform and told to find my way up the metaphorical Messina equivalent of Brecon Beacons.
I’ve survived, but I’m not happy. Along the way, there have been fights, a whole lot of confusion and just a lot of damn inefficiency. It’s upended my personal life and drained my bank accounts.
Not exactly the best start to what is supposed to be a full-time job.
In spite of the extremely challenging conditions, I’ve gotten up to speed hyper quick, by everyone’s standards. I may not be very disciplined, but my ability to filter through the useless bullshit and the useful intel is still very much intact. I’ve never struggled to adapt quickly to any situation, but what I am most proud of this past week, are the lessons I’ve learnt in the past ringing clear in my mind.
I’ve been able to control my emotions, regulate frustration, hold my tongue when appropriate and actually put together plans. I’m starting to see how important to put aside time for critical tasks and to really add generous buffer to every task I do.
But when I notice how discipline I become when it comes to planning ahead and plotting the course of the week, suddenly life seems a lot more bearable. I feel like I am ahead of the curve, instead of behind and that just gives me a boost of confidence and morale to push harder.
Now if I can just control my roster and really manage my sleep and find some more time to squeeze in all my hobbies …. life would be very peachy.
Just remember Damocles … no matter how crazy life is, you need to instil some discipline in it.
When I originally planned my birthday, I only wanted one thing: a great party.
I had actually forgotten that I was turning a whole new number older, replacing the 2 with a 3 now. I was so focused on creating an incredible party, that it never occurred to me that I was turning 30. The stress of planning the party, getting the costumes ready for the Halloween theme, buying all the decorations, food prepping and just cleaning the house in general was everything.
I didn’t even register the importance of my age, because I was too focused on the event itself. It was only until my partner told me about the significance of my age, I finally understood. And with that revelation, came the harsh truth … I was actually failing a lot of my objectives in my B30 challenge.
I was not my ideal weight.
Nor … was I any closer to a full time job in events.
So, the two primary objectives to hit before my 30s, I had failed both.
In all honesty, 2023 had felt like a real slow year. The novelty of working in events had worn off long ago, and I was still stuck between two workplaces, working casually for both, occasionally doing 14 hour days. I was longing for stability, a chance to regulate things in my life, from exercise, dates, me-time, catch-ups and diet.
But none of those things were possible with such a chaotic work schedule. I couldn’t hang out with my friends properly, cos they simply weren’t available during the hours or days I had off. I couldn’t exercise, because work left me exhausted after or unmotivated to do anything, and I couldn’t spend as much time with my girlfriend, because sometimes I had work early the next day or I simply could not fit her in my schedule.
This was the curse of working for two places at once …. I spent more time managing my calendar than getting any real chance to smell the roses.
That all changed around my birthday though.
It was like Lady Luck herself had finally lifted a curse.
Firstly, the new Marvel’s Spider-Man 2 PS5 game was releasing literally on the day of my birthday. As a huge fan of the original game in 2018, I could not be more excited to play the game. Just like I did with the original, I fronted the cost of getting a limited edition PS5 with the Spider-Man details on the front and back, just to play the game.
And I couldn’t be happier. The game has exceeded all my expectations and given me a personal joy that I haven’t felt since the original. I have sunken literal hours into just swinging around NYC and stopping petty crime and the rush and adrenaline combination hasn’t stopped since.
The second lucky aspect was the prospect of the weather. For my actual party, it was a beautifully temperate Melbourne day. Barely any rain and just enough heat to make things warm and comfortable. Luckily the day before and the morning of, everything went without a hitch. I had plenty of time to carve my pumpkins, set up the fairy lights, prep the food, pick up the cakes, and set up all the balloons.
All that and I still managed to sneak in some private celebrations with my partner, by going to a small chic French restaurant, enjoying a cake at home and opening all the incredible, generous gifts she had gotten me.
And to top it off, right on my actual birthday …. I got a job offer. From Gelato Messina. The ice-cream store in Australia.
Full time, events, free ice-cream …. it was like a dream come true. I couldn’t believe it. I got the job offer, right as I was trying to pick up the cake for my party. I went through two interviews, with the events manager for Australia and then one more with her and the big partner of Messina itself.
The second interview was nerve wracking and shocking because the partner himself came down just to visit me and ensure that I was the right fit for the company. Which was obviously a good sign, but I had been hopeful before and never got the job.
But this time, on my birthday, I did.
I landed a job and I couldn’t have been happier. Finally, all that grinding in the event space, all that experience, all those hours had paid off to the point where people could see my potential and trust me with more responsibilities.
For me, getting that phone call from my boss, was the best birthday gift I could have asked for.
And to top it all off, I still had an incredible birthday party and one more big surprise from my girlfriend that weekend to look forwards to.
The birthday party was one of my own design. As an avid NERF gun collector, I had invested far too much in the RIVAL series, that has proven to be the perfect sweet spot between paintball and nerf guns. It hit hard enough to sting but not bruise, travelled accurately enough and I had enough guns to equip a small army of my friends.
We played with those guns in my favourite location, a local multi-storey carpark that, when you park several cars inside to create “cover” proved to be the best way to have fun. Shooting each other, running around, calling out hits and just allowing everyone to shed their adult lives for a few hours has always been a dream of mine. I love seeing my friends just have fun and enjoy themselves in a fast pace game of NERF.
We played so many different modes too. From protecting the VIP, to deathmatch, to Trouble in Terrorist Town, I had such a blast playing with them all, and I desperately want to organise a game every month, to just let loose with my friends. With everyone’s busy schedules, that is a challenge, but I do want to prioritise something active and fun like this regularly to destress and just hang out.
Then it was time to eat, and I absolutely treasure my family for helping cook and prep all the meals. Everything was a hit, from the rice paper and spring rolls, to the barbecued meats and the salads. Nothing went awry. And of course, my favourite cake, from a French bakery known as Le Petit Gateau, was devoured in seconds.
I can still recall all the laughs, the chatter and the smiles from everyone who attended. I lost count of how many polaroids I took on the day and I could not be happier with how the party turned out and ran.
Then came the road trip with my girlfriend. She insisted on taking me to Lorne, where despite the windy weather, we captured so many beautiful moments together. If there is one thing I have fallen in love with, since dating her, is photography. I love taking photos of her, and capturing as many beautiful moments I can with my Fujifilm Instax Mini 90 camera.
Taking so many precious photos, has given me a better eye and now I can really see what makes a photo great and what makes a picture “photogenic.” It’s something you have to train and the constant photos I take of her on our dates have improved my eye so much. Lorne was truly a special road trip, one that I loved taking with her, and getting to try Totti’s for the first time was definitely a highlight that needs to be revisited.
My birthday this year was absolutely spectacular. My heart feels full thinking about it.
I landed a full time job at an ice-cream company that is one of the best in Australia.
My girlfriend spoiled me with incredible gifts that are both functional, thought-provoking and special.
She celebrated a private dinner, lunch, and road trip with me, and made me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
My birthday party was full of special memories, iconic moments, incredible food, and hilarious guests. Absolutely no-one stood out of place, and everyone seemed to get along well with everyone else.
I know that in the future my birthdays are unlikely to rival the insane fortune that blessed my entry into my 30s, but even if that is the case, I will always look back on my 30th as one of the best weekends of my life.
So thank you Lady Luck for looking over me and for allowing me to be surrounded by incredible people, family and girlfriend.
If this is the start of my 30s, I cannot wait to see what the decade ahead offers me.
I love you all and I hope I bring as much joy into your lives as much as you do mine.
In my opinion, the modern Warfighter mentality and ethos has been shaped by one environment in particular: the mountains and people of Afghanistan.
The region of Afghanistan has invariably marked every single Western warrior that has heard of or step foot on its soil. There have been numerous new advances in war-fighting since the war began in 2001. Here are a few examples:
New modern camouflage patterns have emerged, i.e., the death of digital camouflage in favour of the more ubiquitous “multicam”. The base colours of multicam have their origins from Afghanistan, due to the highly varied biomes in the country. You can go from lush green fields to ice-white arctic conditions in the mountains and then come home in pitch darkness. Camouflage had to change and now multicam is the new uniform for NATO troops.
Newer, slower, more cautious CQB tactics have been developed so that soldiers no longer do “dynamic” entries into doors. Gone are the days when soldiers would kick in doors, throw in flash-bangs and then storm in with multiple bodies into a room. Now, troopers “pie” or “slice” doorways, wary of booby traps, suicide bombers and the “fatal funnel.” The simple fact is … armed forces are now unwilling to rush into danger, instead being more methodical and slower in their approach to room clearings.
Music that once defined warfare, the heavy rock inspired soundtrack to the Vietnam War has now been swapped out for Middle Eastern ouds and a distinctive tragic heroic melody that infuses all pop culture surrounding the Global War on Terror.
Iconic weapon systems, such as the venerable M16 rifle became shorter, quieter and more expensive. The legendary Heckler & Koch 416, first adopted by the equally mythological United States Army’s Delta Force or CAG, was the apex of AR-15 development, a weapon system that was modular, reliable and pinpoint accurate. The accessories that were found on these rifles, cost almost as much as the gun itself; EOTECH holographic sights, magnifiers, AN/PEQ-15 NGALs, fore-grips, SureFire suppressors, torches and custom slings.
The age of modularity and the varied environments these soldiers found themselves fighting the Taliban in, created a gun culture in which everything could be swapped out. The glory behind HK 416’s crowning moment, the death of Usama Bin Laden, lasted only for a few years, before the new do-it-all weapon platform came along, the sleek SIG Sauer MCX family of rifles. A rifle so proprietary and cutting edge that it became the latest new combat rifle for the U.S. Military, designated as the SIG MCX Spear and in a unique new round, the 6.8mm Creedmoor, replacing the famous 5.56x45mm NATO cartridge.
Even the modern formation of a “squad” has changed. What was once an elite team of Tier One Operators such as DEVGRU, CAG or SAS, are now saddled with additional personnel, such as JTACs, translators and even lawyers, men and women who cannot keep up with the physical abilities of these elite soldiers and thus hinder these men on their missions.
But that is the cost of guerilla warfare.
Laws must be upheld, updated and reinforced across all branches of the military. When you are dealing with civilians who can be friend or foe depending on the season and whether you have recently stepped foot on their farm, the rules of engagement for modern soldiers can get extremely murky. Discretion is the better part of valour, but that is a difficult skill, that can only be garnered through harsh experience.
It seems that whenever a technologically superior force comes up against the people of Afghanistan, the superior force loses. It is not nicknamed the “graveyard of empires” for nothing. Alexander, the British, the Soviets and now the Americans … all of them have failed to conquer the country and its hardy people and subsequently became a shadow of their former self after their withdrawal. The infamous mujahideen reputation of the Afghan people proves that they are not above playing the long game and winning out. After all, the Americans were there since the 7th of October 2001 and they retreated on the 30th of August 2021. That is almost two decades of fighting and like the rest of the world, I was astonished at how quickly the Taliban re-seized the country.
But as the son of a Vietnamese refugee family, that shouldn’t have surprised me. After all, the Fall of Saigon was just as swift, when the Americans left the country and there were echoes of history repeating the failure of American foreign policy in the frantic evacuation in Kabul airport.
However, I am here to discuss how Afghanistan has formed the new identity of the modern Western Warfighter. As an avid student of warfare, I noted the explosion of interest in Special Forces in the zeitgeist when it came to discussing armed forces. In particular, the new fascination with U.S. Navy SEALs (Sea, Air Land).
There is a common misnomer about the SEALs that I must get off my chest. To earn the famous trident pin, new recruits are put through the famous BUD/s program, a gruelling test of physical and mental fitness and stamina and capability. However, upon graduation, and earning your trident, you are no more special than a U.S. Army Ranger who passed Ranger School or a Royal Marine Commando who passed the Royal Marine Commando Training.
Talented, special and deadly yes, but you are not the true tip of the spear that the media portrays the SEALs to be. That would be the Tier One unit within the SEALs community known as DEVGRU (Naval Special Warfare Development Group) or SEAL Team Six.
Moving on from that pet peeve, the proliferation of SEALs in popular culture is what has led to an exponential growth in the tactical community. There is now more information about CQB, weapon set-ups, EDC lessons than ever before. The plethora of autobiographical books, films and podcasts about SEALs (No Easy Day, Lone Survivor, American Sniper, The Terminal List, Jocko Willink podcast, the Shawn Ryan Show to name a few) has created a modern-day myth around the men who earned their trident pin abroad and domestically.
Unfortunately, this has created an aura of invincibility around the concept of modern war-fighting. After all, it is difficult to not buy into the hype that if you are armed with a “Gucci AR-15”, dripping with the latest technology, a pair of NVGs (night vision goggles) and proudly wearing a plate carrier, you are likely to come out on top of any firefight you get into. But the key fact here, the evidence that brutally undercuts all this idolisation of Special Forces is … Americans have been fighting guerillas for most of their modern history.
Under-equipped, disparate, terrorists who hide in caves, tunnels and civilians. Whether it be in 1989 Panama, 1965 Vietnam, 2001 Afghanistan or 2003 Iraq … American war history is defined by their superior technology and equipment clashing with poorly armed terrorists.
(and they lost all of those wars)
The wars they fought in were not peer to peer.
Peer to peer conflict is the worst type of conflict imaginable. When two equally well equipped, armed and motivated forces clash, there are no winners, regardless of how good your equipment is.
The individual soldier does not matter on a field where everyone has artillery, drones, K9s, planes, tanks and training. Warfare is now much, much more lethal. The SEAL, the CAG, the SAS trooper is no longer the invincible super soldier that media has mythologised. After all, the enemy on the other side has just as much expensive equipment, support and training as they do.
When you are hunting down a terrorist in an Afghan cave, a Mexican tunnel or on the streets of Pakistan, the onus in on you, as a soldier. You need to have better kit to catch these smaller forces. After all, you represent the spear now. You can’t just use a guided missile to take out this small group of armed men. Hence, men are needed to fight men.
But in Ukraine … none of that matters anymore.
Why send men to fight men, when you can shell them from kilometres away with artillery?
Why walk over to the trench, when you can purchase a cheap drone off Amazon, load a few grenades on it and simply fly over and drop the live explosives on the enemy?
When the entire country is the enemy … the scalpel loses its appeal and it’s time for the saw.
Or in Russia’s case, they tossed the sickle aside and unleashed the hammer.
UKRAINE – UKR
The sheer amount of information about Ukraine is staggering. Reddit, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube … the internet is awash with intel regarding the latest peer to peer conflict to envelope Eastern Europe.
Learning more about the war has been the biggest ego-check any mil-simp like myself has received.
After all, I grew up on the culture and climate of the Global War on Terror (GWOT), where the emphasis was on Special Forces doing the majority of the work. I made the incredible fallacy of believing the hype surrounding these men, that a single platoon of SEALs were all you needed to fight a war.
But the truth of the matter was, a single platoon of SEALs was all you needed for a hunt.
There should be an attitude change regarding GWOT.
It wasn’t a war.
It was a glorified hunt for vengeance.
What is happening in Ukraine is a bonafide real war, where the real backbone of any military, the infantry, the common fighting man, is the true strength behind the war effort. Bodies are needed to replace the wounded and the dead and warfare has turned into a numbers game.
As a General, you do not need the most specialised troops to storm a front. You need men, who are adequately trained to a basic, effective level, armed with simple gear and be motivated enough to follow orders, regardless of how brazen, dangerous and terrifying they are.
Gone is the appreciation for the scalpel like precision offered by Special Forces.
Now, in a peer-to-peer conflict, it is about seizing the moment, pressing forward the advantage through any means necessary and then subsequently holding that precious gained ground against counter-attack.
Warfare, once defined by its huge complications in wielding massive logistical challenges against inferior forces has now boiled down to a much more primitive version as seen in the early 20th Century.
For example, when storming an insurgent stronghold, NATO forces will need guaranteed support from a multitude of fixed-wing or rotary CAS (Close Air Support), a QRF (Quick Reaction Force), medevac and real-time satellite imagery with a host of HQ support suites from drones, artillery, mortar to communications.
What this looks like in reality, is an absolute bedlam of controlled chaos. A platoon of CAG troopers on the ground, before even storming the compound, will have their CAS: either a fleet of AH-64D Apache Longbow helicopters buzzing overhead or gun-runs from A-10 Warthogs, or an AC-130 Spooky Gunship circling overhead. To control all these airborne vehicles, there will be an AWACs high above all of these angry hornets, to mitigate any of these elements from shooting one another or crashing mid-air.
Then there will be a battalion of U.S. Army Rangers supporting the Delta platoon, acting as their QRF, which means establishing a perimeter to prevent any escapees as well as back-up for the Delta boys in case they get injured or overwhelmed.
Throw in a couple billions of dollars’ worth of satellites, indirect fire from Ranger mortar teams or artillery units and at long last the much vaunted American “scalpel” is ready to remove a terrorist stronghold off the face of the earth.
One bad-guy stronghold, of maybe 30-50 fighters inside.
Now imagine you are an Ukrainian conscript.
You signed up, because the dastardly Russians have invaded your home country. You are looking out over no-man’s land, where kilometres of mines, entrenched positions, defensive barriers and enemy artillery fire is waiting for you.
The Russians are waiting.
You look down, at your simple AK-74 rifle, with its wooden stock, iron sights and orange Bakelite magazine. You do not have thousands of dollars’ worth of optics that allow you to see and shoot more accurately and further, nor is there a fancy laser sight that you can use to aim, instead of squinting down the receiver of your decades old gun.
Your uniform is rugged but old, enough to keep the chill out but itchy. It’s the same colour as the ground, a miasma of green, brown and black. Your boots are soaked in the waterlogged trench, and you know that if you get shot in the head, the helmet you are wearing, is not enough to stop anything but artillery shrapnel.
When you look up, there is no reassuring heavy thuds from the rotors of the most advanced attack helicopter in the world, nor is there the telltale whirr from a gunship that has a tank cannon mounted in the side of its fuselage.
Instead, all you hear is the annoying insect like buzz from your comrade’s toy, a tiny cheap, white drone that has a Go-Pro camera taped to the bottom and a grenade with a stick through the pin.
There is no tablet that you can bring out and consult for a map, nor is there a five-star general barking orders into your ears, telling you where to go, who to shoot.
Even the tank situated 200 metres behind you, isn’t technically an “tank.” It’s an armoured personnel carrier, whose ammunition has run dry and is acting like a quasi-shield to protect the wounded. It’s barely offering any protection though, because the Russians have punched so many holes through its armour with their rockets and armour piercing rounds that it behaves more like a slow lumbering ambulance that soaks up bullets with every pick-up.
I am creating an exaggerated picture, but I strongly believe that this bleak image of their immediate future is what the common fighting man on both sides of the Ukrainian front is currently facing.
Peer to peer conflict has created this stalemate, a paralytic state of a war where both sides have the same capabilities and suddenly, all the advances in stealth fighters, attack helicopters, satellites and drones mean nothing and it’s back to the old ways of digging trenches and advancing slowly across bloody, muddy ground.
And I cannot think of anything more depressing and awful.
In a way, this situation reminds me of two key movies scenes that have always stuck with me for their impact and power when portraying the strangeness of war and its depressing nature.
The first is the literal first scene of Gladiator (2000), of Maximus’ hand running through the field, lingering and enjoying the prospect of life and peace. The warm yellow tones of the scene is immediately contrasted with the cold, dark, blues of Maximus’ character pondering the battle ahead. A bright yellow bird amongst all the dark mud catches his attention with its chitter before flying away, causing Maximus to smile briefly before his face turns serious and the clench of his jaw indicates a tough veteran of many wars, bracing himself for battle once more.
The second scene is from 13 Assassins (2010), the finale in which Shimada Shinzaemon has just killed his best friend, Hanbei, a samurai loyal to the villainous and sadistic Lord Naritsugu. To bring peace to Japan, Shinzaemon, the titular 13th assassin must execute Lord Naritsugu and put a stop to his perverse abuse of power . The Lord, who had just seen his entire 200-strong army killed in bloody fashion by Shinzaemon’s team of skilled samurai assassins (who have also died along the way), had yet to draw his sword in the long 40 minute long battle.
Resplendent in his white royal kimono, arrogant and smug, Lord Naritsugu kicks Hanbei’s head callously away and Shinzaemon looks on in disbelief over his behaviour. Calling him out for his cowardice and lack of power, Shinzaemon, in true samurai fashion, stands stoically as Lord Nartisugu rushes him and stabs him in the stomach.
Grunting in pain, Shinzaemon casually stabs Lord Naritsugu in the stomach and watches as the Lord gasps in shock and pain. The white kimono is instantly stained with blood, and as the Lord realises the sheer depth of his pain, he begins to crawl away pitifully in the mud.
Soon the regal, haughty and vicious Lord becomes just another man covered in his own blood, mud and tears and facing impending death. He grovels pathetically, before Shinzaemon, decapitates him with a single stroke, before succumbing to his own wounds.
The contrast in both of these scenes, how something so clean and beautiful can instantly be marked by war into something dirty and muddy always stuck with me, after watching those movies. It is like seeing the modern fields of Verdun, an iconic WW1 battlefield, now overgrown with beautiful green grass, hiding the scars of trench lines so many year ago.
I can only imagine what it is like to see your country, once beautiful, vibrant and green, turn to dark, depressing mud, hiding untold horrors beneath the surface and knowing that this sludge of muck is all you will fight, bleed and die for.
The glamour of warfare has been wiped from my mind. Gone is the idea that I would sign up for the military. Instead, there is a huge sense of relief that I was rejected when I tried to enlist 5 years ago.
It seems that men are dying far too quickly in Ukraine. Modern warfare is truly awful.
A striking example of its horribly unfair nature was something I read that happened to the Russians. 100 Russian troops were waiting for their commander to give a speech, standing out in the open air, listening. Drone footage pinpointed their location, and Ukraine had more than enough time (almost two hours) to get one of their M142 HIMARS (High Mobility Artillery Rocket System) in place and subsequently wipe the entire column out in seconds.
Reading this news article affected me greatly. Being killed by a man, only metres away from you is understandable. But to be shelled from kilometres away, in a place where you were thought to be safe, listening to a speech is just incredibly unfair. You would have no idea what happened until the rocket struck the earth in front of you and reduced you into atoms. There would be no chance to react, no way to fight back. You would just die.
It would be the same in the trenches. You are stuck in a very narrow ditch, unable to pop your ahead above to see anything, because if you do, a sniper or a tank will spot you and subsequently rip your skull clean off your neck in seconds. So, you lie there, hunkered down, only to hear the buzz of a very cheap drone above, zooming past you in a blur, but dropping a live grenade at your feet.
There is nowhere to go. Left and right are dirt walls. Front or back, you need to be the Flash to get away from the 5m lethal blast radius of the grenade. Up over the wall are snipers, tanks and machine guns. Down into the dirt is not an option either.
You would just die. Unable to slay the drone that killed you as a final act of defiance or do anything about your impending death.
Inevitable loss of life.
The sheer unsporting nature and low survivability of contemporary warfare has turned me completely away from the military. I have no intention of dying to something I cannot see nor defeat with a fighting chance.
Nor do I particularly like the idea of fighting on behalf of someone else in foreign soil.
When I ask a lot of my friends why they enlisted in the military, a lot of them give me the classic answer: “to serve and protect my country.”
Patriotism at its finest. Something I’ve lacked since day one. I’ve never really seen that as a good enough reason to sign up.
If I had to really examine my true motives, way back when I tried to enlist, amongst the 4 basic food groups of answers:
Serve your country
Family tradition and service
Employment and money
A legal means to kill people
My honest answer would have been a legal means to kill people.
I wanted to see what it would be like to go man to man with another warrior and see who comes out on top. I wanted to test my skills and reflexes and truly see if I had what it takes to be the very best.
I had no other goal, other than to be an SASR commando.
But now, I have mellowed out. I no longer see any appeal in such foolish motivations, and I’ve met someone who has completely turned the axis of my life around.
T is one of those girls who you commit to, because you know, you will never meet anyone like her again.
I’ve always taken my romantic life and my work life seriously. Even when I tried to enlist, I told myself that I would have to be single before marrying the Army. Relationships and full-time war fighting are simply not compatible. I also thought that it was extremely selfish of me, to want it all.
I can’t have all the best and most expensive gear in all of NATO’s arsenal, fly across mountains in the Hindu Kush region in a CH-47 Chinook, spend 6 months or more away, then come home to a wife who is all too willing to bed me, look after my 2 children and greet me with a smile on her face, after going completely radio-silent during those 6 months.
Communication is the backbone to any successful operation or relationship. I can’t communicate with my girl properly whilst being overseas, unable to talk about the specifics of my job and going for long periods of time where I cannot even text her.
I talk to T every day. Whether it’s by text or a call, not a day goes by where we aren’t talking to each other. Our ups, downs, and in-betweens, she knows all about my day and I, hers. It’s what makes our relationship so strong. She knows every detail, and I trust her completely, because I know every detail about her.
I can’t maintain this healthy relationship if I am serving in the military.
There is also the fact that I have grown older and am thinking about settling down. Meeting T was and is my one chance at creating something greater, a family. She has completely upended the way how I view domestic life. Nowadays, I’m not motivated by the desire to be the best soldier, but to be the best husband and father.
I want a life with T, that promises so much. There is a future I see with her, that is so beautiful and incredible, that it fuels me to work harder and push further. I’m not working for my own personal gain anymore, buying things that make me happy. Instead, I’m trying to save, trying to find a better job that will provide for both of us.
She has inspired me to be a person that is happy with what I have. I know how much soldiers sacrifice, how important they are to the protection of my family, here in Melbourne. So, to honour that, I shall always respect them by living the best life possible.
And that best life possible, is creating something with my partner. I want a beautiful home to go to, and to be domesticated with her. I feel myself longing to have pets, children and a man-cave that the kids can play in.
All of these dreams were once so foreign to me, because I was still hung up about the military lifestyle. I thought I was destined to be a loner, some type of archetype that floated from women to women, place to place, but upon meeting T, the girl who I’ve always wanted to meet, always wanted to date, suddenly all of those stupid notions vanished.
I’ve met someone worth fighting the daily grind for, someone who has convinced me to hang up the imaginary war-belt and be satisfied with the ordinary civilian life I’ve always lived.
T has convinced me that unless war comes to the shores I live on, it’s not worth fighting overseas for governments, countries or poor policies. I don’t want to die for some politician who is sucking up to Washington, Moscow or Beijing. Nor do I want to be seen as an invader to some poor Afghan farmer or a Russian civilian.
I just want to be happy with my toy guns, Lego, books and girlfriend. None of those things are compatible with the military. I would have to give them all up and that, to me, is a sacrifice too great.
I’m OK with being a civilian now. An ordinary guy who has a vested interest in the military yes, who frequently loves to LARP around in tactical clothes, but nothing more than that.
I do not wish to be some sacrificial pawn for someone else or the government. I love my personal liberties and freedoms and I shall cherish, respect and enjoy them to their absolute limits.
I want to be by my girl’s side and make a future together with her.
When I look at the war in Ukraine, my heart breaks for those young couples who are torn apart by the conflict. High-school sweethearts, doting husbands and wives, loving boyfriends and girlfriends … all these people forced to put their personal lives and relationships on hold, because they have been forced into a war, none of them wanted.
To me, it’s just another sign, until the day we are actually invaded in Australia and the personal safety of T, my friends and family are at risk, only then, will I consider enlisting again.
Otherwise, in most cases, I’ll be seen more as a Russian than an Ukrainian.
And that, is the saddest reality of all. That most of our modern-day war fighters, were considered invaders rather than defenders. That we embarked on one of the longest wars in current history, for a mission of revenge, for something we originally created to fight against the Soviets.
Afghanistan, the story of American foreign policy gone horribly wrong, yet again, only this time, the U.S. dragged every single friendly nation with them and declared us the righteous ones.
What a familiar crusade.
This time though, whether through luck or happenstance, I never had a chance to be a Knight or Special Operator in the Middle East and for that, I am extremely grateful I was stopped from being involved.
Instead, Lady Luck prevailed in my case and instead introduced me to the girl of my dreams.
It’s amazing sometimes, how life will steer you to a destiny that is better for you and I have never been happier to stay a mil=simp instead of becoming a real soldier.
I’ve made peace with those ill-advised military fantasies of mine and instead am now building towards a much more real and beautiful dream with my girl.
In a way, I feel like a soldier who has come home and is now focusing all his energy on building up a family.
But that is just the romantic side of me speaking.
Ukraine has forever changed the way how I view war. It’s made me never want to fight on behalf of anyone, except for my family, friends and girl and it’s finally put to bed the invincible myths of war-fighters.
I’ve realised now that, the best way to respect a soldier’s sacrifice is to live my life to the fullest.
One of the strangest quirks about working in the heart of the city is just how quickly you feel invisible.
All our lives, we’ve been taught that we are special … unique … that we have value, that we offer something that might alter the fabric of society. That without us living, breathing and moving about in the world, society might stop and take note if we go missing.
Whenever I walk into my shift at the city, I can’t help but feel that all of that self-validation is nothing but a bare-faced lie.
There are colourful characters everywhere you look in the city. Angry homeless people, wild cosplayers with pink hair and zany outfits, a man dressed entirely in tweed, a woman wearing the latest Chanel bag, dress and shoes, skateboarders blockading people around them to allow their mate to do a grind … no matter where you cast your eyes, there is something to see if you can be bothered to observe.
In a town as colourful and diverse as Melbourne, no matter how subdued or flamboyant you are, you become invisible. The city itself isn’t even that big compared to global megacities around the world. A population of 4.5 million people is still small in today’s world.
But it is enough to make you feel lonely.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt this year, especially when working in events or studying warfare in Ukraine, is just how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things. I have all these wants, needs, desires and hopes, but none of them really matter. To the people at work, my work is valued but not essential. To the men fighting in Ukraine, their pain and deaths mean nothing, because the land is nowhere close to being recaptured.
All the things that make me, me, are only special to me. You can give me combat boots, cargo pants, knives and in either scenario; at a war or an event, no matter how important, armed and unique I feel, I know deep down, I am just another anonymous grunt, doing his best to keep the cogs of the machine running smoothly.
It is at times like these, I wonder whether I actually make a difference. Whether the event would have ran smoothly, if I was not there, if me actually being there, actually contributed to anything.
Nihilist thinking for sure, but that is the cost of working in the city. You lose a lot of yourself when you do. No matter how special you feel, you’re just another ordinary freak or drone that roams the streets, full of your own self-importance and agendas.
I never used to put much stock in nihilistic thinking, but I can see its pervasive appeal when I have seen so much depravity, random violence and anger on the venue I work at. It’s hard to reconcile in your head just how destructive this sort of casual decay being witnessed every day can be to your well-being.
It tends to make you feel lost.
Which is why I find it all the more important to engage in the things I enjoy and to spend more time with friends. I can feel this urgent need to infuse everything I do with a sense of gratitude. It helps me stay grounded, appreciative and less lost in the grand scheme of life. Perhaps the most drastic example I feel when working in the city, is this bizarre sense of “there, but by the grace of God” whenever I walk past a homeless person.
Homelessness is often a danger that we don’t really ponder about. But for me, so many things have gone my way to make sure I don’t end up on the street and there is no greater reminder than some poor bastard begging for money on the street.
Life can be cruel, incredibly quickly. My parents are getting older, my friends have gotten harder to access, my energy is not quite as bountiful as it used to be, and the cost of living is climbing every month.
Any of those crucial elements to my life could be compromised at any given time. Which is why I feel that pressing need to infuse gratitude into everything I do. I need to be more appreciative of the things I have and own the wins in my life.
By acknowledging and showing gratitude towards the enormous luck I have, I can feel myself pushing away that pervasive nihilism that the city keeps pressing on me.
It is so ironic that in a place where people are the freest to be themselves, the city ends up nullifying everything that made you feel special and unique. After all, you just become another ordinary freak show or anonymous drone that walks the streets.
This is particularly felt more strongly in Melbourne than anywhere else in Australia too, because of the usual colourful nature of Melburnians. A Darth Vader could be blasting AC/DC tunes for cash, right next to some annoyed white-collar executive with a Mont Blanc briefcase trying to enjoy his fifth flat white coffee and no one would twice about it.
To me, that sort of obliviousness to something so odd and peculiar is frightening. When one cannot appreciate just how strange it is to see a pop culture villain standing next to a real corporate villain, it is a sign that the city has dulled your senses.
And to see that I don’t observe such things as bizarre anymore concerns me. Because it shows that, like everyone else in the city, toiling away, I’ve become more alone.
When things are “off”, it is because they are out of the ordinary. And ordinary is defined by the people around you. The people and relationships that you foster, the moment you are born are the community that surrounds you. They help you define what is “normal.” It doesn’t matter if you come from a rough or privileged background, that “normal” is unique to you and your community.
Hence when I don’t notice that things are out of the ordinary, it means that I am lacking in my community. I don’t spend enough time with them, with people I love, cherish or admire. My sense of “normal” is off kilter because I don’t spend enough time with my people.
The city has a detrimental effect of breaking down people’s communities. You are surrounded by other human beings but have no connection to them. Hence you can look at an Elmo singing in Cantonese, right next to some homeless person and not even bat an eye. You got no stakes in those stranger’s lives.
Yet if you somehow recognised either of them, as part of your community, as part of the extended family you have curated in your lifetime, you would not hesitate to donate money to their bowls.
Working in the city has made me realise the importance of being grateful for the people around them. They’re the ones who recognise how unique I am, they’re the ones who notice what I wear, how I act and why I am special.
And I will return that favour of seeing why my friends, family and love, are unique, special and amazing individuals that I need to cherish more.
So, don’t let the city get to you and make you think you aren’t extraordinary. Go back and get in touch with those you love.
Damocles' Journal 