Innovation – Stolen, without consent…

Here is a little piece by a Wellington thinker and resident caring soul by the name of Mike Sukolski. You can tell him that I have ripped him off here… Thanks to old mate “wanda” for pointing this one out…

Image may contain: hat
Image resultStolen from Mike Sukolski

Whatever Happened To
Just Doing Something Different?

It’s as if we believe we have discovered something new, and now we can’t get enough of it, this innovation thing.

We toss it about, the word at least, like confetti.

According to my dictionary, to innovate is to bring in novelties; make changes in. Really? Well, it is an old dictionary. I got it when I was fifteen. Someone must have bought it for me, it cost thirty shillings, and where would I find thirty shillings. It still serves me well.

Being a little on the old side, however, I thought I should seek a second opinion. So I did, and got this: “to begin or introduce something new.” So there you are, I said to myself, something new, that clinches it. Couldn’t be clearer. A consensus. But is this what we do when we innovate, I said to myself, I do a lot of talking to myself. (I should know.)

Apparently we need to believe it is.

Like Mike Hosking, who believes that news reading is an “artistic pursuit,” we too need to be, or to be seen as, artists. Well, creative, anyway. With grim determination we set out to innovate, as if our lives depend on it. But why? Good question.

And the answer?

Because, in most, if not all, circumstances, we have no idea what to do next.

We wait and wait, hanging around hopefully, analysing earnestly among ourselves, until all the evidence is in, but all the evidence is never in. Never can be, even though we dedicate large sums to looking for it. There always remains the evidence that comes from actually doing the thing, and this we cannot possess, not until we have done it, and found that, after all, our big idea didn’t work.

If only we had waited until all the evidence was in. Relax! We can innovate instead!

You don’t need all the evidence when you innovate, innovation doesn’t rely on evidence, it can’t do, because there there can’t be any, not of the definitive kind, anyway, if its truly to be innovation.

Because if it is truly innovation there will be no precedents, nothing that could secure the necessary foreknowledge of success, or failure. You will be left contemplating an unscientific leap of faith. Or desperation. Or self-esteem. Which doesn’t make a good business case. It won’t impress your bosses.

Luckily, that’s not what we mean, true innovation, in fact it’s the last thing on our minds. Heaven forbid that someone would dare plunge undata-ed into unknown, potentially hostile territory. Stark naked into a shark infested pool. Leave the known world behind and risk unforeseen, if not career-ending consequences. Or worse, no consequences at all.

No, that’s not for us. Not in the real world. In our heads perhaps, yes, in our heads, we do it all the time in our heads, we get degrees in doing it in our heads, there are careers to be had doing it in our heads.

Innovation, you see, is for us nowadays an assertion of personal worth, the source of our self-esteem. And when we are all doing it together, joyfully, in teams, innovation becomes an affirmation of group worth. Truly, you can’t lose! Just tell yourself, and everyone else, that you are innovating and you can safely go ahead and do what you have always done. Nothing can go wrong.

Who will dare be the little boy wondering aloud why the king has got nothing on.

Innovation is the new orthodoxy. It doesn’t matter much what you do just so long as you say it is innovative, and your peers say it is innovative and your bosses say it is innovative and their bosses say it is innovative and the minister says it is innovative.

Thus we consummate a culture of constant change where nothing ever changes. We cannot risk real change, so we innovate instead, and heap accolades upon ourselves. Glittering prizes. Brilliant careers. Truly we are leaders!

The game is a simple one, anyone can play.  And we do, we all do, because we are innovators. Aren’t we? And innovators are never wrong. No, and as we pull our hopes down over us, like a suffocation, from within the reeking hovels of our heads we imagine a new dawn breaking, the beginning of a bold new era, and we believe, all over again we believe.

We sing patriotic songs, while the seas rise around us, the air clogs with CO2, the rains turn our fields to mud, the winds tear our houses down, and a frenzy that is very likely madness sweeps us out of our collective head, but we take no notice, on we rush, triumphantly on, innovating, innovating unto extinction.


mushy

Never a truer word spoken.

After spending some time wasting away my ill gotten gains of time and money working in the “addiction leadership group” can safely ascertain that those that be do not want change. But innovation?

Hell yeah. Give us more of that young NZFIEND.

Just don’t you dare change anything in the process.

 

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AUNTY HELEN…

http://www.nzherald.co.nz/index.cfm?objectid=11942149

 

Enough said. YEAH GIRLFRIEND!pzzvazt2vvcfpgh2tspqwx7dzi

 

 

RAT PARK – dribble on I do…

https://www.seedandspark.com/fund/ratpark-miniseries#story

RAT PARK and those famous cartoons that started busting peoples steroetypical thoughts on addiction are a favourite thing of mine to bang on about.

Click and fund a motion picture.

Help get the unwashed masses thinking for themselves.

I’m off to the shower.

For it has been a long day helping neighbour move couches, fretting over car failing to fire and generally contemplating the worthless life presented as an uphill battle blotting the horizon.

Mind is a little fuzzy and cannot be bothered working out how many days since nicotine last infected my body and mind with it’s dopamine bliss.

Would be nice to have car running for event in a weeks time. However disappointment never fails to disappoint.

Still, may feel better next week. And get car running. And have a nice day of weather, petrol and rubber.

Which may take my unwashed mind away from more worrying human conditions for brief periods of bliss.

Without artificially introduced happy hormones.

LCC2017backtrackhack256

Vapour of E

VAPING, sure is a thing.

Having given up smoking seven years ago, was a little annoyed with self when starting again a couple of years ago.

A few young ladies I may or may not have been sounding out for this nor that were smokers. One exceptional beauty was getting the stupider side of me to roll cigarettes for her whilst driving  me the hundred kilometres to Wellington family court.

Court, losing access to daughter, other issues.  I guess, to most people, it’s just “life”.

To someone who smoked for thirty years of their fourty year old life it was a great gilded opportunity to fall from the wagon. Not like me to dive headfirst from anything without thinking about it long and hard first. Far from it, of course.

Anyhow. ….

Electric power steering nicotine vapour into willing lungs was soon deciding the way to go.

Don’t see a problem with nicotine. Just the delivery method. The chemicals inhaled from traditional spark induced tobacco cremation far out weigh the good the nicotine can do in someone like us.

E cigs are great. However the ADHD side of me losses them consistently. 

Constantly enough that three or four hours of a generous Week is spent stressing and climbing into cupboards, under cars, digging through the garden, moving beds… Occasionally to no avail.

TIME TO GO BUY ANOTHER VAPE MACHINE.

Whilst buying another is certainly not entirely out of reach economically for this poor broken backed dick head who claims to be an adult most days —  have decided not to buy another out of pure pig headed stubborn self loathing.

In the words of Jeremy Kyle…. perhaps… Maybe that Oprah chick… 

CONGRATULATIONS MR NZ FIEND NOT SO JELLY LIKE SIDE. 

YOU HAVE GONE 36 HOURS WITH ANY NICOTINE ENTERING YOUR SYSTEM.

Which is true. This jelly like brain of mine has certainly decided bit too replace the vape system. This, rather interestingly, has the side effect of reducing my nicotine intake to zero.

Yesterday was light headed, didn’t even visit mum on her birthday. Rude prick I am.

Stopping nicotine intake instantly probably isn’t the best route. Opiate receptors, cannabinoid, dopamine levels… They all go a little haywire. So,, side effects could be exactly like having ADHD to prior who didn’t already.

Discovering this info about withdrawal has got me re:thinking a few of the old ideas discovered whilst writing this, the worlds shittest blog.

Old ideas #55c ; the dual effect of nicotine and other drugs upon withdrawal.

And totally confirmed another old idea, possibly aptly labelled old idea #6.66…

N.A NAZI types who look down their noses at those who relapse, or turn to drink are dumb arsed…

For they are taking deep drags on cigarettes at the same time as putting down others on drug maintenance programs.

If nicotine calls to you every time you’re stressed, or you’re triggered to smoke by so many things…

YOU MAY WANT TO TAKE A HUG, A BROCHURE and CONTEMPLATE THE FIRST STEP, to paraphrase somewhat correctly… 
“# ADMIT YOU ARE A HUGE ADDICT [TO THE EFFECTS OF A SUBSTANCE]”

Something effecting opiate receptors and dopamine levels is not to be sneezed at. And sneezing through a cloud of tobacco inhalation of worthy of grabbing your attention.

And may prove an answer to methadone withdrawal… HUGE CIGARS FOR EVERYONE, administered daily of course, wouldn’t want people splitting them into half and creating a cigarette black market or anything. Paranoid ADDICTION DIS SERVICES world wide would choke on that one.

Meanwhile, little old me. Meaningless life lead…
Had a dream where I found the e cig, and was about to puff on it and threw it away instead.

Guess dreaming at all is a good sign. Seems nicotine is easier than methadone at this stage.

And giving up vaping is easier than smoking. YOU don’t have the whole procession of finding papers, filters, tobacco, rolling, finding lighter, smoking. That is a habit in itself.

Unfortunately – The Neuro pathways created by this repetitive business of smoking have turned into neuro highways.

Time to get back on those side roads by the coast and watch a sunset or three.

Without stinging lips from  18% nicotine liquid leaking over mouthpiece of baking machine.

Awesome.

Get out of bed, duvet death thereof

Cold night, beauty day out there. Holy crap, it’s almost midday and I really should be out of bed doing something at least… One more car renovation show, then will get into vertical mode and out the door. Promise…

Been spending a great amount of time and money on these feral cats. Crazy Cat Fiend. Hey, well, someone has to do it.

WHEN THE SPCA SAYS “RING EXTERMINATOR AND PUT THEM DOWN AT YOUR OWN COST” you have to wonder if the old CCDHB buildings they are in have infected their mindset

Society For Prevention of Cruelty to Animals my arse.

So, Gareth Morgan, I am dealing with these feral cats for you. 

It’s rewarding actually.

Thanks.

But really should get out of bed. So much to do, so little giving a shit about it all.

Snowballing mental health appears to show itself in how many cats you have.

What came first? The crazy or the cats?

Just do it. No matter who. DO THIS NOW

AMERICAS WAR ON DRUGS and CIA bullshit. Yet, like the wat on terror, New Zealand and other  countries sign up like sheep causing same jail and social issues.

 

Go figure.

 

Watch the link. Discuss.

Dairy of how to become a junky ADHD mess…

Anyways…Work it out for yourself…

Was going to ring you earlier but then just went to bed again… Been spending more than the usual amount of time in bed recently. It is the time of year for it – nothing to worry about. Just a little cold and winter bringing onset a wee depression, no doubt.

Promised Mum I would make her a new compost bin as Dad is dying slowly along with the rotted out fence she has been piling compost against for two decades.

Aren’t we all. Dying that is. His clock took on a new rhythm for a while recently… Just to be clear, this was not a old sixties dance hall classic number. More drumb and base poured into a blender with Motorheads final Ace Of Spades renditions…

Went down to Mum n Dads to measure up previously mention compost bin… To be made from wood, with my own hands. Would prefer to cut one from alloy and weld nowadays. Am enjoying my new tools and skills always need sharpening. Tools need sharpening and new skills? Half a dozen of one, six of the other. Some shit anyway…

Told Dad I was being operated on within four weeks of the doctor seeing my bum. Dad, as usual, without fail, without preamble, without thought for anyone outside his one square foot of universe,

“they have always got me in real quick, like the time I showed up with…..”

(sure,
my judgement and memory may be clouded
with time, space and
interesting neurological experiments gone awry
nonetheless, seems like this is a reoccurring theme one cannot discount my memory and feelings as completely inaccurate)

“Dad, they only get you in quick if there’s emergency or something serious” was the somewhat necessary interruption.

Yet still he carried on about HIS operations.. Oblivious to fact, his fiction weighing heavily on the judge and jury of his own mind.

Having actually had more operating table excursions over my fourty years younger span of life, he doesn’t bother to remember anything about my issues, health or happiness. Nor, it seems, going so far as to suggest others problems have been trivial.

When he sees me wince with pain just standing still he says “oh, your back is getting like mine, hahahaha”. Yeah right, like he has had emergency spine surgery and pissed and poo’d himself walking to the hospital… Fuck he is such a self centred fuck…. Unbelievable… This is going to require a breath, a thought of something happy and a lot of self restraint. Would be nice to have that loverly Clarrissa here with some restraints, but she was already booked and tied up elsewhere…

So he tells me all about HIS for the hundredth time in as many visits. Tiresome in itself.

Interruption time again….

Must record one of these conversations. You may, even the most die hard retard apologist among you,  be sympathetic to that at least. He sure ain’t.

“So, you have any idea why they would get to me so quickly?” 

“I presume as they are quiet at the moment and I was seen in that amount of time after a doctor saw my collapsed viens in my……”

WTF? Are you serious? Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckme, fukme, f’me….. Relaaaaaaaxxxxxx…. He may be just about dead and nothing is going to change the guy now, even if he did think anything about himself and his life was not perfect.

FUCK UP DAD , NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU.

(well, I tried. Honest)

Dad, chastised for once. Not a pretty sight as it happens…
“I never said it was about me”

DAD, EVERYTHING YOU HAVE SAID IS ABOUT YOU. NOT ONE SINGLE GENUINE QUESTION, OR SO MUCH AS EVEN FAKED INTEREST IN WHAT IS GOING ON FOR ME. AM BEING OPERATED ON TUESDAY MORNING JUST FOUR WEEKS AFTER A DOCTOR SAW THE LUMP IN MY BUTT CHEEK DAD. THAT WOULD SUGGEST IT IS IMPORTANT, WOULD IT NOT?

“I don’t know son, they see everyone as fast as they can…”

Remaining the calmest possible, given fourty years of this sort of conversation… Hell, you people reading it are bored of it already. Imagine the effect this has on a kid growing up, or indeed the fourty year old man still trying to grow up…

THE FUCKEN SPECIALIST GUY I AM SEEING AT HOSPITAL IS THE SAME GUY WHO TREATED YOUR DAUGHTER

(funnily enough, also known as my sister, who died of Cancer May7th a few years ago aged less than me)

“Oh yes, he seemed nice… Although your sister argued with him, he knows his stuff. Top guy, really really clever…” …OMG

Really not bothering to remain calm in face of this much narcissistic stupidity DAD, WHY THE FUCK WOULD I BE SEEING THE SAME GUY AS KATE ? WHY WOULD THEY OPERATE ON ME SO QUICK ? WHY AM I BOTHERING TO TELL YOU THIS AT ALL ?

 

“I don’t know Tony, they are a good hospital though…..”

 

Oh for fucksake, if he wasn’t already on the waiting list for the cremation table I would kill this bloody idiot…

DAD, THEY THINK I HAVE FUCKEN CANCER FOR FUCKSAKE. WHY ELSE WOULD I BE SEEING THE FUCKEN CANCER SPECIALIST? THEY *DO NOT* GET YOU INTO OPERATING ROOMS IN THIS BROKE ARSE HEALTH SYSTEM IN FOUR WEEKS FROM FIRST SEEING A DOCTOR WITHOUT IT BEING DEEMED IMPORTANT.


Just in case he managed to avoid the point (as proven, he is quite bloody well capable)

 

THEY THINK I HAVE CANCER DAD. But I don’t. The really really really clever people and their two times through the MRI, the X-Ray, the Ultrasound, the various specialists including a muscular skeletal guy have it wrong.

However, I am going in Monday to sort out the procedure and am in Tuesday to have half the weight of my right arse cheek cut out… Will be good to get the bloody thing out. Even though it’s not cancer, it is annoying me more and more recently…

 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell us?”

 

FUCK ME.

 

Work it out yourself. Seriously.