Tag Archives: crime


via Daily Prompt: Suspicious


One of Orwell’s famous lines in ‘1984’ “Big Brother is watching you” is the classic ‘art imitating life’ become life itself in a macabre twist.

Fear rules, and in several of our recent federal advertising campaigns, citizens were urged to report anything suspicious to the authorities. All aimed at refugee and imigrant groups, well let’s be honest, Muslims, and their behaviour, because you never know when they might try to enact a terrorist attack. Which reminds me – out of the eight supposedly terrorist incidents reported here in the media, three were found to have substance, and two tragically lead to death (notably, mental ilness was the significant factor and not religion or politics, and certainly not “terrorism”).

Minimizing crime and destruction is a good thing, but there will always be places where you can’t get a clear CCTV picture, or where the dots in an investigation can’t be joined. We have beome focussed on eradicating threat, and in essence we are really trying to nulify death itself, we are pop-insurance junkies. Yes, prevention is a positive ideal, but it isn’t a guarantee or a cure all.

My concern is that we are losing our focus. Feeding suspicion is divisive and destructive in its own way. We need to check our suspicion, what is the driving fear, the motive? Who is driving it? Who stands to gain?

Instead we need to build trust not division. Besides, a trusting community will be stronger than a suspicious community; it will develop an oppenness, a trust, respect and strong bonds, compassion and cooperation, and it will develop resiliance, so that when tragedy does occur, there is a strength to face it together, and not in fear.





Filed under community, life, Philosophy/Theology, politics


via Daily Prompt: Mystery

Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, or perhaps Jo Nesbo, Camila Lackberg, or Fred Vargas. All writers in the genre of crime and mystery. Or the mystery of religious or cultic rites, mysteries which captivate the heart as well as the mind, leading to mystagogy or initiation into the mysteries themselves.

Then there’s the mystery of the odd sock in the washing basket (conspiracy theories abound), the missing spoon from the set, or the missing piece of the Monopoly game (standard across my circle).


Then there’s the mystery of trees, eucalypts, in a rugged landscape, clinging to life on a rock face, stunted, but undaunted, determined. Perhaps not a true mystery, but mysterious enough for me. There’s litte soil in those cracks, there’s little water, but there they are, trees growing in the rock. Now there’s a mystery.




Filed under bush walking, Country, nature