Hol­i­day not for us

Seymour Telegraph - - NEWS - — Ser­gio Prado-Ar­nuero, Sey­mour

The grand fi­nal pub­lic hol­i­day is okay for the peo­ple of Mel­bourne, but to see in Sey­mour there were so many food places that opened to please the com­mu­nity de­spite hav­ing to pay ex­tra wages gets a thumbs up from me.

I hope many would have prof­ited from the hol­i­day.

It is ob­vi­ous the Vic­to­rian Gov­ern­ment could not care less about small busi­nesses in coun­try ar­eas.

Give the show day hol­i­day back to the re­gional ar­eas where they can spend the whole day at the show.

The grand fi­nal pa­rade only lasts a short pe­riod and for those who want to at­tend the short train­ing ses­sion, let it be by tak­ing a flexi or ros­tered day off, as it was only a cer­tain amount that were al­lowed into the ground.

So who pros­pered from the rest of the pub­lic hol­i­day? The City of Mel­bourne. — Gra­ham Palmer, Sey­mour They were out there The pro­fuse, de­scrip­tive de­tail so well pre­sented in Col Bailey’s ex­cel­lent book Lure of the Thy­lacine has en­abled me to con­clude that the strange, timid an­i­mal I saw near Tal­la­rook one fine af­ter­noon, about 1969, was a fe­male thy­lacine.

The short-haired, dog-like an­i­mal, about 40 cm shoul­der height, was of slen­der build, with a tan­nish-brown head and neck, and with dark stripes along its side.

It was the an­i­mal’s move­ment from my right which first caught my eye, and it crossed only 40 m in front of me in a des­per­ate dash to­wards the plain wire fence and the safety of the ad­join­ing scrubby pad­dock.

Un­like some foxes, it didn’t stop to look back.

The pe­cu­liar­ity and wild­ness of the an­i­mal’s face and the fear in its eye cap­ti­vated me, but I re­mem­ber noth­ing about its tail.

The thy­lacine was ‘‘ex­tinct’’, so I didn’t ex­pect to see one in broad day­light dur­ing my ram­blings around Tal­la­rook and I was stunned.

In the bed of the iron­stone and sandy gully, south of the fence line, I found only about six dis­tinct, fresh marks, hardly de­scrib­able as pad-prints and def­i­nitely not those of a dog.

After a short at­tempt at track­ing, I walked straight home, hav­ing lost any de­sire to roam fur­ther afield that day.

My sight­ing of a fe­male thy­lacine surely im­plies that an­other of the species, prob­a­bly a larger male, was in­hab­it­ing the area at that time.

Un­for­tu­nately, much of that broad area has since been sub­di­vided, with a house on al­most ev­ery small block.

The thy­lacine was not ex­tinct 50 years ago, and again I wish to ex­press my grat­i­tude to Col Bailey for his su­perb book.

Lure of he Thy­lacine should be an Aus­tralian col­leges’ standard Year 8 text­book.

— John J. Ma­her, Sey­mour Noth­ing is ab­so­lute Is his­tory a fac­tual nar­ra­tive or sim­ply a nar­ra­tive ex­pos­ing a his­to­rian’s per­cep­tion sys­tem?

An earth-shak­ing dis­cov­ery in mod­ern quan­tum physics called the ob­server ef­fect is con­fir­ma­tion that quan­tum par­ti­cles be­have dif­fer­ently when dif­fer­ent peo­ple with dif­fer­ent ex­pec­ta­tions and per­son­al­i­ties ob­serve them.

How we ob­serve af­fects what we ob­serve. This dis­cov­ery has buried the be­lief that re­al­ity or sci­ence or his­tory is ob­jec­tive.

Even in medicine, ob­jec­tiv­ity is very rel­a­tive.

The placebo ef­fect is a re­source as valid and pow­er­ful as is the right med­i­ca­tion. How placebos heal is ir­rel­e­vant, it is the re­sult that mat­ters.

Many con­cepts found in lin­ear New­to­nian physics have been forced to change.

Now we know time is not lin­ear nor ad­di­tive, but repet­i­tive, cyclic, rel­a­tive and not ab­so­lute. Time is curved and can suf­fer vari­ances de­pend­ing on many in­flu­en­tial fac­tors, grav­ity be­ing one of them.

Our per­sonal per­cep­tion, our ac­tiv­i­ties, our men­tal fo­cus, our age and our mood mod­ify our time and our his­tory. The time of a child is not the same as the time of the el­derly.

Ev­ery­thing that ex­ists has al­ter­na­tive ex­is­tences.

In dia­lec­tics ev­ery sim­ple con­cept im­plic­itly car­ries its op­po­site — any con­cept could be the the­sis and its op­po­site, the an­tithe­sis.

It is from this in­ter­ac­tion a new, big­ger, higher, deeper, bet­ter re­al­ity, the syn­the­sis, is born.

This is how Mother Na­ture un­folds re­al­ity.

From one vis­i­ble uni­verse its mir­ror in­vis­i­ble anti-uni­verse ex­ists — from any­thing lo­cated on the left, some­thing very sim­i­lar is lo­cated to the right.

Our brain has two halves, sim­i­larly the heart.

All over the world op­po­site weather pat­terns are oc­cur­ring at the same time, we have our con­scious as well as our un­con­scious minds, there are males and fe­males. Ev­ery­thing that ex­ists is the ex­pres­sion of the in­ter­ac­tion of op­po­sites.

Which one of the fol­low­ing — his­tory, mythol­ogy, re­li­gion, sci­ence or phi­los­o­phy — can of­fer us ex­ac­ti­tude? Which one can of­fer pre­dictabil­ity? Not one of them.

Ob­jec­tive his­tory does not ex­ist.

Re­cently on Q&A, a part Abo­rig­i­nal male stated that any al­ter­na­tive his­tory doesn’t ex­ist, that there is only one his­tory re­lat­ing to his peo­ple.

Sorry, I dis­agree. Al­ter­na­tive his­tory does ex­ist with­out any doubt and not just one al­ter­na­tive his­tory, but many.

To me, only two of the al­ter­na­tive his­to­ries cap­ture my at­ten­tion — the his­tory of the win­ner and the his­tory of the loser.

Over time these his­to­ries be­come a sort of mythol­ogy filled with ar­che­typal sit­u­a­tions and char­ac­ters that stim­u­late the next gen­er­a­tions to be­come win­ners, more re­silient, to de­velop ini­tia­tive and a pos­i­tive men­tal­ity.

The his­tory of the loser is also in­ter­est­ing as long as it doesn’t pro­mote vic­tim men­tal­ity.

Why? Be­cause this men­tal­ity re­sults in com­mu­ni­ties im­mersed in vic­tim­hood, in self­pity with an en­ti­tle­ment men­tal­ity to an ar­ray of priv­i­leges with­out any per­sonal ef­fort and re­moves any per­sonal re­spon­si­bil­ity re­lated to their sta­tus.

If some­body, re­gard­less of who they are, states that only one his­tory ex­ists, they are not telling the truth.

Our his­tory ex­ists within each of us and his­tory has an ego and per­son­al­ity.

The steady and con­tin­ued in­crease in the preva­lence of men­tal ill­nesses in our coun­try will never be solved by spend­ing mil­lions on the ill-named ‘‘battle against men­tal ill­ness.’’

It will be solved when we stop pro­mot­ing the vic­tim men­tal­ity, when we pay at­ten­tion to the in­di­vid­u­als needs with­out pity and priv­i­leges.

Peo­ple don’t need hand­outs, they only need a hand up.

The his­tory of the win­ner is as or more valid than any his­tory, and def­i­nitely more con­ve­nient for our men­tal health.

Don’t live your life nailed in the past. Look full of hope to the fu­ture.

Stop fo­cus­ing on where you’ve been. Fo­cus on where you are go­ing.

Who knows what you have been miss­ing out on.

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