You never know when the reaper calls you. Sometimes, it's a bit more obvious. When my father died, he just went to the hospital one weekend, and on Monday I heard about him passing away. When my brother died of lung cancer, it was less sudden. I had months of denial until I realised how deadly lung cancer is. Luckily, I had a chance to see him before it happened, to have the chats needed in the moments of lucidity while he was sedated with morphine.
Both of them didn't make it to 50, and appeared in my dreams afterwards. While I decided not to worry about my own death, the process of dying, potentially dragging on for months, doesn't sound pleasant at all. I was on the other of the globe while my mother lost her battle against cancer and chemotherapy, witnessing on the phone the turn from optimism to giving up.
Our society doesn't appreciate death, and sometimes just admitting that some of my relatives exited this existence made me feel like an outcast. I didn't really celebrated my 50th birthday much, although I cherished somehow staying for longer in this existence than two out of three of my closest male relatives. Average life expectation doesn't mean much, as millions of people make it up. Individual lives end at some point, below or above this average.
The first funeral I attended since decades brought my own strange relation to death back home, while at the same time aligning it more with my firm believe in reincarnation. We danced, and drank, and had a massive party, to celebrate the member in our midst who was gone. Yet I didn't yet dare to talk his immediate family how they coped with the hole ripped into their lives since then.
Today I found out that the best friend I had in Europe kicked the bucket. He contacted me less than half a year ago to notify me of his battle of cancer, and our last conversations were online. He also appeared in my dreams, but I missed the opportunity to hear his voice before it happened. He died just a day after I found out that my favourite niece was diagnosed with lung cancer.
My niece is in her mid thirties, and maybe the only person I witnessed from birth to adulthood. The last time in went back to Europe was mainly to say hello to her first daughter, as I knew that I wanted to stay in Australia for good. I vaguely remember seeing some bits and pieces I gave her before leaving Germany back then.
Call me old-fashioned, but I don't value "remote" communication, be it phone or social media, as much as face to face. Back when only landline phones were used, I knew how much one could fake it. I still felt compelled to phone my niece, and was surprised about the familiarity of her voice, and how connected I felt while hearing about her journey.
She sent me link to her instagram after our conversation, and that blew me away. She memed her fight against her cancer, which allowed me to see a recent photo. It took me some days to check her account (I'm over facebook, which owns instagram, and no longer much into "social" media). What I found, though, filled me with pride. When I left my home country, I gave her some things I didn't want to throw away.
Seeing these items being posted online, more than decade later than when I left them, made me sentimental. My mother inculcated the importance of family into me, so while my niece grew up, I always intended to influence her in a positive way. I gave her books and mixtapes, lend an ear to hear about her struggles and dreams, wanting to be the crazy uncle supporting her to become the best she wants to be, telling her wild stories her parents probably wouldn't have approved.
It breaks my heart seeing her fighting a potentially lethal cancer. Her artwork, like most visual art, offers an insight to her soul. I don't even know when she started drawing, but it looks like her art made it onto t-shirts and tote bags, and to prominent places in her home. As I love immediacy of interaction, I lost track about someone my heart is connected to. Yet losing someone until the next reincarnation takes more than I take at he moment.
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Even more feral
Social media, the modern battlefield for consumerists. My former workplace still fights hards for them valuable google reviews, and since the first comment of an unhappy neighbour, which accidentally is my house mate, the number of reviews has increased tenfold.
Honestly, I'd love to put it all behind. Due to utter stupidity on my side, I got confronted with this story again. And while I don't like mudslinging, I appreciate honest feedback. About less than a week ago, I heard about the next rallying call to rescue the reputation of this company, and found about 30 positive reviews floating in in just one evening.
As those reviews remain, I save myself from the copy and paste job of praising the product, its maker, the staff, the environmental highfalutin and so on. Marketing works, and most people taste the image of a product, and not its ingredients. My palate has adapted, though, to the nuances of this fermented product. Other frequent consumers, not being inundated by marketing, also agree that a potentially healthy drink turned into a sugary soft drink.
As I haven't sampled other brands lately, I can't assess how "real" the product from this company tastes in comparison to its competitors. The homebrew I had some months sets the standard of what I consider the real deal, and neither bottles nor kegs of my former employer get close. Anyway, while I'm cautious to prevent to name names, I'm certain if this blog is found it will be used against me.
Before the flood of good reviews came in, customers of the online shop reacted. Viki wrote:
"$19.95 for a ***** and I got two little pieces that didn't do anything. Shopped on Gumtree and got a large health ***** for $10 that is going gangbusters." Charles commented:
"VEGAN RIP OFF This is the smallest ******** I have ever seen for the price!!! I don't even have a carbon footprint I got but stomped on with this one... NEVER AGAIN ***..:( :( :( :("
Now, as these reviews refer to the actual product, and not how well the company gets along with its neighbours, it's probably hard to flag this feedback as "inappropriate". The majority of comments I quoted in the first part of this saga have gone by now, although I saw some reappearing temporarily. No idea whether the removed feedback stills gets into the average which now stands at 4.3 stars.
Even though I didn't want to, let's quote a five star review from the night of upvoting, as it presents the mixed approach of selling product and "community engagement". Gav wrote: "awesome brews and a real hub for community. i would love to see them host way more events at their brewery with lots of sustainable tunes to bring happiness to all of Brunswick. Could only be better if the tunes were loud enough to hear it from my place !"
Dear Gav, just move into one of the about twenty or so properties close enough. It's just, those people living here already for decades don't seem to share your enthusiasm. Paul steps in for his mom, who most likely doesn't engage on social media. "Every time I visit my mother all I can hear is horrible techno music coming from down the street. She will not open a window or even venture out into her beloved garden because of these disrespectful people. techno music all day and then live bands on the weekends blasting out onto the street. She can't move. Over 40 years in her home and some tool is trying to drive her and her neighbours out. Respect your neighbours. There is no need for your music to be played so loud that all can hear it down the street. You do not realise what you are doing to the mental state of people who just want to get by. please consider."
I did the emphasis, for good reasons. I remember a neighbour coming into the warehouse stating something similar - that the sounds coming from the warehouse were meant to drive him out of his home. Unsurprisingly, when I mentioned today that I considered some of the negative feedback coming genuinely from real existing neighbours, I was again blamed for not convincing my housemate to withdraw her comment.
Carl sounds like someone who visited the place which once was flagged as "HQ". He writes: "Scary people. Unfriendly. Unclean premises." As I experienced quite different moods while working there, and various characters as visitors or extreme short-term staff, I have no difficulty imagining getting such an impression on a first visit. After all, I spend lots of time, especially when I had the hunch that things aren't working out the way I envisaged, in maintaining the front yard to create a pleasant impression.
I have to admit, the last quote might actually been inspired by social media sympathy, and not by the unique experience this business offer. Sally wrote: "A lot of great reviews is a very short period of time, no doubt most of them are just rubbish reviews designed to boost your rating, seems they have no problems criticizing people but when people do it to them they throw a tantrum like a bunch of 5 year old's, man up you bunch of pansies or go back to Healesville.
Pluggers review of this sh--t hole is the best and funniest I have read in a long time, need to put this one up on twitter, love the writing on board out the front by the way LOL"
Unfortunately, I haven't found pluggers review, I could do with some funny stuff while I'm confronted with lots of challenges. Telling this story provides me with some relief after a real life encounter with this severe storm in a teacup. I got reminded today to pick my team - which is ridiculous as life isn't a competition. I'm with team humanity.
Since I have left facebook I'm no longer exposed to vicious online battles, which usually exceeds how most people would interact in real life, even in conflict. I walked away from a work environment with an extremely volatile boss, as I don't believe in the "my way or the highway" mythos for lasting cooperation. I worked enough with change management systems to realise that individuals resisting to change themselves will not change anything around them for the better.
I might have burned a bridge, but sometimes bridges connect fertile grounds to wasteland.
Honestly, I'd love to put it all behind. Due to utter stupidity on my side, I got confronted with this story again. And while I don't like mudslinging, I appreciate honest feedback. About less than a week ago, I heard about the next rallying call to rescue the reputation of this company, and found about 30 positive reviews floating in in just one evening.
As those reviews remain, I save myself from the copy and paste job of praising the product, its maker, the staff, the environmental highfalutin and so on. Marketing works, and most people taste the image of a product, and not its ingredients. My palate has adapted, though, to the nuances of this fermented product. Other frequent consumers, not being inundated by marketing, also agree that a potentially healthy drink turned into a sugary soft drink.
As I haven't sampled other brands lately, I can't assess how "real" the product from this company tastes in comparison to its competitors. The homebrew I had some months sets the standard of what I consider the real deal, and neither bottles nor kegs of my former employer get close. Anyway, while I'm cautious to prevent to name names, I'm certain if this blog is found it will be used against me.
Before the flood of good reviews came in, customers of the online shop reacted. Viki wrote:
"$19.95 for a ***** and I got two little pieces that didn't do anything. Shopped on Gumtree and got a large health ***** for $10 that is going gangbusters." Charles commented:
"VEGAN RIP OFF This is the smallest ******** I have ever seen for the price!!! I don't even have a carbon footprint I got but stomped on with this one... NEVER AGAIN ***..:( :( :( :("
Now, as these reviews refer to the actual product, and not how well the company gets along with its neighbours, it's probably hard to flag this feedback as "inappropriate". The majority of comments I quoted in the first part of this saga have gone by now, although I saw some reappearing temporarily. No idea whether the removed feedback stills gets into the average which now stands at 4.3 stars.
Even though I didn't want to, let's quote a five star review from the night of upvoting, as it presents the mixed approach of selling product and "community engagement". Gav wrote: "awesome brews and a real hub for community. i would love to see them host way more events at their brewery with lots of sustainable tunes to bring happiness to all of Brunswick. Could only be better if the tunes were loud enough to hear it from my place !"
Dear Gav, just move into one of the about twenty or so properties close enough. It's just, those people living here already for decades don't seem to share your enthusiasm. Paul steps in for his mom, who most likely doesn't engage on social media. "Every time I visit my mother all I can hear is horrible techno music coming from down the street. She will not open a window or even venture out into her beloved garden because of these disrespectful people. techno music all day and then live bands on the weekends blasting out onto the street. She can't move. Over 40 years in her home and some tool is trying to drive her and her neighbours out. Respect your neighbours. There is no need for your music to be played so loud that all can hear it down the street. You do not realise what you are doing to the mental state of people who just want to get by. please consider."
I did the emphasis, for good reasons. I remember a neighbour coming into the warehouse stating something similar - that the sounds coming from the warehouse were meant to drive him out of his home. Unsurprisingly, when I mentioned today that I considered some of the negative feedback coming genuinely from real existing neighbours, I was again blamed for not convincing my housemate to withdraw her comment.
Carl sounds like someone who visited the place which once was flagged as "HQ". He writes: "Scary people. Unfriendly. Unclean premises." As I experienced quite different moods while working there, and various characters as visitors or extreme short-term staff, I have no difficulty imagining getting such an impression on a first visit. After all, I spend lots of time, especially when I had the hunch that things aren't working out the way I envisaged, in maintaining the front yard to create a pleasant impression.
I have to admit, the last quote might actually been inspired by social media sympathy, and not by the unique experience this business offer. Sally wrote: "A lot of great reviews is a very short period of time, no doubt most of them are just rubbish reviews designed to boost your rating, seems they have no problems criticizing people but when people do it to them they throw a tantrum like a bunch of 5 year old's, man up you bunch of pansies or go back to Healesville.
Pluggers review of this sh--t hole is the best and funniest I have read in a long time, need to put this one up on twitter, love the writing on board out the front by the way LOL"
Unfortunately, I haven't found pluggers review, I could do with some funny stuff while I'm confronted with lots of challenges. Telling this story provides me with some relief after a real life encounter with this severe storm in a teacup. I got reminded today to pick my team - which is ridiculous as life isn't a competition. I'm with team humanity.
Since I have left facebook I'm no longer exposed to vicious online battles, which usually exceeds how most people would interact in real life, even in conflict. I walked away from a work environment with an extremely volatile boss, as I don't believe in the "my way or the highway" mythos for lasting cooperation. I worked enough with change management systems to realise that individuals resisting to change themselves will not change anything around them for the better.
I might have burned a bridge, but sometimes bridges connect fertile grounds to wasteland.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)