Be Brief

Most books are twenty percent too long.  Films generally overstay their welcome by about thirty minutes each and speeches by about ten.  The worst offenders are meetings, which are usually sixty percent longer than necessary.  Blog posts vary by author, with some ramblers giving us eighty percent more words than are required for their message while others come right to the point, SEO be damned.

Musicians generally get it about right.  They know how long a movement will keep our interest and when it needs to change.  A few are tedious while others leave us wanting more.

I forgive writers their babbling far more than speakers.  If an author is blathering I can easily skim over the unnecessary drivel and tune back in once he’s decided to return to the story.  Joseph Conrad comes to mind – okay, the sea is pretty.  We get it.  Thanks for telling us so many times, at such infinite length and with such endlessly varied similes.

Too many authors think that they should write a novel when they really have a good idea for a novella.  Novellas are underrated, as are short films.  Why do we not have some films that go for an hour and cost half the price?  Not everyone wants to sit through two and an half hours of Australians speaking in American accents as they swing through the city in tights battling unconvincing CGI monsters.

Oh, but meetings are the worst.  If someone sends a ridiculously wordy email it’s no biggie to skim over it and pick out the vital details.  But when someone is speaking, and speaking, and speaking, and we get what they want to say but they insist on continuing to say it anyway, there is no escape and they bloody well know it.  This is an act of aggression against me.  I have limited time on this planet and stealing it away from me is like a mini-murder (proper murder being the larger theft of all the time a person has left).

Be brief.


Follow me on Twitter: @nvladivostok1


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The kids at Evergreen are alright

You’ve no doubt heard about the trouble at Evergreen State College.  They tried to have a no-whitey day and a professor called Bret Weinstein got threatened and harassed for saying it was a bad idea.

Everyone’s taking Weinstein’s side.  He represents the sensible left; the ones who just want to treat everyone fairly and share the wealth around a bit.  The kids are the Cultural Marxist lunatics who divide themselves into ever tinier and more obscure intersectionally disadvantaged tribes and who list their preferred pronouns before speaking and label normal hand gestures as microaggressions.

I will here demonstrate that Weinstein is wrong and the kids are right.

What Weinstein and the kids agree on is that Read More

Adults have spare cash

Several recent incidents had me pulling my diminishing hair out in quiet fury.

A colleague shat herself at work and demanded that someone clean her up and change her.

Well, not quite.  But something like that.

Okay, so a colleague’s car broke down and the repairs would take about a week and cost around USD $1,000.


I should clarify, this is a person about ten years older than myself with a comparable income.  We are not poor.  In fact, the cost of living here is so low that I find it possible to save about half my salary.  Why the cash flow problem?

And then there was a carbon copy situation a little while later.  A colleague bought some furniture, white goods and so on from me as I was leaving the country and was having a fire sale.  The total was about USD $800.


Don’t misunderstand me – I don’t care about waiting three weeks for a bit of money.  No skin off my beak.  Rather, what makes me grind me teeth is that these adults, who have been gainfully employed for many years, have such poor financial skills.  These are not enormous amounts we’re talking about.  Such unexpected expenses are quite predictable – we don’t know what they will be, but we know that they will be.

Defining exactly how much readily available cash an adult ought to have is a piece of string question, but surely a thousand shmakeroonies would be an absolute bare minimum.

If you’re already on my side then bear with me as I explain this to the slower kids: what would happen if you lost your job tomorrow?  How long could you pay rent and bills without resort to mumsie or the public boob?  I would suggest to you that a reasonable period might be around six months, which would hopefully be enough time to find a new job.  Personally I could get by for a year before needing to crack open my long term investments.

An adult should not have to depend on others or hang out until pay day for life’s ordinary slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  One should have a rainy day fund such that you just groan when these events occur, cough up, and get on with your life.

I find it strange that people have retirement plans but no cash in an emergency fund.  Surely the latter should be the higher priority.  There’s no point having millions locked up in superannuation if a tree falls on your roof.

None of the above constitutes financial advice.  Readers should seek their own, independent advice from a qualified professional before making any investments.  If you follow the advice of some dickhead blogger you will end up the fourth wife of a toothless Arab.


Follow me on Twitter: @nvladivostok1


Buy my book:


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Tuning Out

I lived for two years in a remote village in rural Japan.  There was no free-to-air TV reception.  If I wanted TV and internet the cable connection would cost ¥3000 a month so I chose not to bother.

I am a cheap bastard.

I briefly checked news headlines and my email every couple of days on a shared computer at work, and I borrowed 80s anime DVDs from the local video library.  That was the totality of my connection.

Life was zen.  I worried little about the world’s problems because I heard little about them.  The 2008 financial crisis swept past me like an autumn breeze through an ancient cedar.  I noticed a few headlines and thought, hmm, that’s a pity, and forgot about it.  I didn’t constantly check my investments because I couldn’t, and I wasn’t panicked anyway because I didn’t know that everyone else was.  I now know my funds must have lost about a third of their value and then gradually clawed it back.  Best not to think too much about these things.

Once I was back in civilization and got a smartphone I found I could waste a lot of time overreading news and blogs.  This is my main challenge in terms of self-control.

On the other hand, I didn’t hear about some big developments and opportunities.  I missed out on the big money with Bitcoin.  I only encountered the Manosphere in 2009 – I could have done with that wisdom earlier.  I would also have benefited from easier access to information about training, nutrition, home remedies for minor ailments and other things.  There’s also a noticeable gap in my knowledge of world events around that time –  I’m normally one of those annoying bastards who reads all the news religiously and has an opinion on everything.

I think of this now because by the time you read this I will be even more disconnected.  I will be quite chilled about the disasters taking place around the world but will be dreadfully uninformed about useful things.

Anyway, here’s a clip that you have the bandwidth to play and I don’t.  Enjoy.

What do women do?

Have you ever been on a date?

Yeah, me too!

If you’re gainfully employed like I am then you’ll agree the biggest difficulty is not cost, but time.

Weekdays are right out.  I rise in the dark, run or lift, work, cook, read a few pages and fall unconscious until an hour before the following dawn.  If I want to scratch my arse during the week I have to schedule Read More

A Cure for Narcissism

Image credit: detail from Echo and Narcissus by John William Waterhouse

Everything is fashioned for other people’s eyes.

Our hair.

Our tweets.

Our photos.

Our blog posts.

Our status updates and likes.

Even the things we do are done with a view to informing others that we did them.

Yah, I spent time in India.  So amazing.  Yah yah, I climbed Mount Kinabalu.  I saw Trump.  I ate fugu.  I took ayahuasca, the proper way and all.  I read Ulysses.  I started doing arse to grass squats.  Heavy, man.  I wrote a book.  I went to a rally.  I fucked a pretty girl on the first date.

Who cares?  More importantly, do you care?  And, how would you know?

A suggestion: Keep your Read More

Into the Heart of Darkness

As mentioned earlier, I am going to disappear for a while.  I am moving to Darkest Africa, where limited internet bandwidth and poor smoke signal visibility will mean that I will be unable to access WordPress.

But it will not look like it!  Using the magic of scheduling, pre-written posts will appear automatically each Monday just as though everything is normal, even though savages will be tearing strips of flesh from my face at the very same time you are reading my scintillating anecdote about my awkward date with a Korean midget who I didn’t know was a midget until I met her in real life.

I will not be around to respond to comments.  Well I will eventually, once I’ve gotten out and put band-aids on each of my AK-47 wounds and hyena bites.  I’ll try to check in a few times a year.

Behave yourselves.

Put the Giant Back to Bed

Just after 9/11, I went to a birthday party where everyone was understandably muted.  We young men discussed what might happen next and considered the possibility of being drafted to whatever war was about to erupt.

War, we all agreed, was a certainty.  “They’ve woken the giant,” concluded one chap, shaking his head.  “They’ve woken the giant.”

The giant awoke and attacked Afghanistan, entirely missing Osama Bin Laden who had apparently legged it to Pakistan.  Instead of turning the general area where the attack came from into a lake, the giant tried to turn that savage and ungovernable land into a thriving liberal democracy.  Then it got distracted by an unrelated war in Iraq, whose underlying motivations remain opaque.  And both conflicts evolved and will drag on well into the foreseeable future.  And then there’s Libya and Syria and . . . many others.

Back at the beginning of the twentieth century, the giant was the most powerful entity on earth but nobody knew it because it (sensibly) didn’t do anything.  Its military-industrial capacity remained latent and unnoticed.  In the two world wars the giant awoke and shook the world, especially in the second.  It reshaped global institutions and norms in its own image.  The giant became even richer, more magnificent, and sent men to the moon.

Following the conclusion of the Cold War it seemed that the giant must go back to sleep.  After all, what was there for it to do?  And then 9/11 happened.

Many Americans have long since realised that it’s time to put the giant back to bed.  It has been up too long.  It has become tired and demoralized, has depleted its treasure and much of the goodwill of its friends.  The Americans voted for Obama hoping he would end the stupid wars, but he and the lizard extended them.  They voted for Trump but he shows no . . . will? ability? to pull back from the madness.

Wars should be short and decisive.  They should be fought to achieve clear goals.  Usually, they fail to fully achieve these goals or turn out to be so expensive that in retrospect they seem poorly considered.  Lao Tzu wrote this.  The current wars are achieving nothing for ordinary Americans.  Do they really care who wins between the Sunnis and Shia?  Do they prefer the Saudis over the Iranians?  Do they fear Russia?  I suspect few would answer ‘yes’.

As the Chinese have shown, power can increase through quiet development.

It can be depleted through overuse.

What America needs is a modern-day Hadrian who will acknowledge that the empire is large enough, and see that the main risk is becoming overstretched.  Hadrian constructed the famous wall named after him in Britain to keep out soccer hooligans from Glasgow, and built many other walls, roads and defenses besides.

The Roman empire survived for centuries afterwards.

Rockabye giant, on the treetop

When the war blows, the cradle will rock

When the debt breaks, the cradle will fall

And down will come giant, cradle and all