The Kony Dilemma

Lately I've been obsessed with literature on gaining rapport and psychological persuasion (Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion - Robert B. Cialdini). Trying to better myself for upcoming employment, and right my past communication wrongs.
And so, I thought I was smart enough not to get caught up in "psychological jujitsu" (def: verbal and emotional trickery sales people use when they are trying to persuade you to purchase their wares.)

Boy was I wrong!


Hook, line and sinker.















Last night, while eating vegetarian food from a local Hari Krishna restaurant (delicious by the way), some friends and I watched a 27 minute documentary about the atrocities performed by Ugandan LRA warlord Joseph Kony and his army of kidnapped child soldiers and female sex slaves.



KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.

It was presented on a legitimate Australian news program in its entirety. Subconsciously I was already falling into the 'sale' ('Directed Deference' - "News programs vet all content, don't they?" - Wrong!).


FYI: Many 'News' programs sensationalize and use persuasion tactics in promos and in their newscasts all the time to capture, and keep, an audience.

Kony 2012 started out stating their was a deadline of December 31, 2012 to take action (Red Flag).

It then used clips from Ugandan survivors, celebrities, and people "just like you and me" ('Social Proof' - Red Flag). The filmmakers brilliantly used the 'Good vs Evil' theme, allowing the innocence of a child to explain Kony is bad and needs to be captured.

At the end of the doc the narrator called people to action, laying out steps to follow (red flag).

So what did I, this newly educated man on the effects of Psychological Influence, do at the end of the credits? That's right, I blindly jumped onto their website www.kony2012.com, signed the petition, donated $20, purchased a bracelet and t-shirt AND paid $20 for international shipping.

Aside: As a professional film editor, who has cut and produced a touching video or two, I must say Kony 2012 is quite the masterpiece. Great pace, a rollercoaster of emotion, stirring imagery... I challenge you to watch the documentary and walk away unmoved.



After donating money I don't have (I'm currently jobless - I like to call it an extended vacation unsupported by the monetary system) I THEN did some research on Kony 2012/Invisible Children. What I found was a lot of criticism.

Articles stating that only about 32% of the donated monies actually go to ground efforts in Uganda.


"...echoes of Colonialism...",


 "...the campaign oversimplifies the issue..."


"encouraging vigilanteeism...".

Some of the articles emphasize that the documentary understates the efforts already going on in Africa, and paints the Ugandans as powerless, in need of outside help from "white saviors".

The truth is, and I do feel guilty of this, I never even heard of Joseph Kony prior to this documentary. Sure, perhaps the docs producers did oversimplify the issue and have made some mistakes along the way (see photo holding guns).

But isn't this more of a 'War on Terror' than the gulf oil fiasco was? Kony is raping and committing genocide just to stay in power, spreading his extreme religious ideology. There's a reason he hasn't been stopped sooner. There's no money in it for business and government.


Perhaps these guys are making some cash off this. I'd rather pay my money to them, helping to make over 50 million people aware of Kony's atrocities, than have mega corporations pad the pockets of some politician in order to get first dibs on oil reserves.

The filmmaker's goal is to make Kony famous. It's working via a simplified message, using social media as a weapon and "psychological jujitsu" as a motivator. I think it's working, and I plan to help.

Or perhaps I've fallen under the spell of another 'influence' technique called the "consistency principle". Basically, it theorizes that once a person makes a decision to do something, and people know about that decision, they are more inclined to defend that something, even though it may have been the wrong choice.

Alas, I made a choice and I'm sticking to it. I can skip a couple coffees and takeaway lunches to make up the difference.

I think I liked my life much better when I was ignorant to the tricks of psychological persuasion.

























Here are a few links to a pro and anti-Kony 2012 articles:

Kony2012 website
Child Defends Film
Detailed Article by the Guardian
Are You A Skeptic?
Producers Motives Questioned

 You decide.

Jimmy
 

My Perspective on Perception

per·cep·tion/pərˈsepSHən/

Noun:

The ability to see, hear, or become aware of something through the senses. The state of being or process of becoming aware of something in such a way

Isn't it interesting how we perceive external stimuli differently depending on the mood or the current state of life we're in?

Take for example: Oh let's say, Subject A moves to a foreign country with his wife, only to have his marriage and life fall to pieces around him.

Okay you guessed it. I'm Subject A (Feeling more like Subject F at the moment). 

 The point is, everything I do and almost every piece of stimuli seems to take on a new, deeper, meaning.  The surfing lesson I wrote about the other day could easily become a metaphor for love and marriage. In fact, I spent an hour yesterday writing about their similarities. I've decided not to share it, because frankly, it came off a little cheeseball. but here are a couple highlights:

...I had no clue how to get up on the board. I lay on it shaking from side to side, the deep, churning water threatening to pull me under. But I knew the reward far outweighed the fear and risk... 

...But, no longer able to keep balance, I plummeted head first into the murky waters. Struggling to reach the surface, I knew, I hoped, was there...

 

...In my heart I wanted so bad to go back for the board. But looking at it from a distance I realized the board was not meant for these seas. Cracked and warped, it would never glide across the waves the same again...

-  See what I mean. CHEESEBALL. 

But in writing that 'fromage' I started to gain some perspective, and a control, over my perception. 

Instead of looking at everything as a sad sign of 'love lost'. I am going to look at everything as a sign of 'life gained'. 

Here's a great poem I saw on the cafe I was sitting in yesterday. I think I'll follow its advice:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. 

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

© Max Ehrmann 1927

  

Be Good To Yourself,

Jimmy

Not Quite A Surf Pro

The waves were small and the water, somewhat, calm tonight so Elliot, 'Palm Beach Surf God' 2004-2011 (I made that up, but he's that good),  took me out to surf.
Now, I've surfed once before in the cold, COLD, waters of Tofino, Vancouver Island, Canada. I got up on an outrageously large surf board then, I figured I could get up on the medium sized board today.
Let me just state this right now. Surfing is hard!

First of all ocean water never stops moving. Fact. Trying to balance on a board while paddling out into surf is not an easy feat. I admit, trying to sit up on the surf board to look as casual as Elliot while we searched for the perfect wave, I may have fell off a few times. Sucking in enough salty sea, making me Gold Coast belching champion for the next 25 minutes. There were actually dolphins in the water a few meters from us. I didn't see them because I was too busy trying to balance on my flotation device/surf board. I bet they were laughing at me.

In addition to balance issues (Elliot assured me the balance eventually comes), my lower ribs were killing me. I am told that everyone's ribs and chest gets chaffed as it presses into the board. Once again, I was assured my body would get used to this. So far, surfing rated a three out of ten on the fun scale.

Knowing that I lacked the spotting and paddling skills to catch the perfect wave, Elliot basically pushed me into the wave, screaming out "paddle, paddle". The first wave caught me by surprise. It seemed to go on forever. Luckily, so did my effort to get up to my feet. Unfortunately I only got to my knees before the ride ended.  But, surfing (or whatever I was doing) just moved up to a strong six on the fun scale.
The next wave was mine. I popped up to me feet and actually rode the wave. There was no carving, flips, or showboating. And, although I looked like this:

I felt like this:

 (special thanks to Stuey 'Bloody Elbows' Spence for capturing a few less than flattering photos of my adventure)


I managed to get up a couple more times. But as the daylight dimmed, and a menacing storm moved in from the south, surfing started losing it's appeal. And I started thinking of things like shark attacks (more attacks happen when it gets dark) and lighting and high winds zapping me and blowing out to sea.

We walked out of the water just in time. The wind picked up, catching the board I was holding, forcing me to walk in a sideways/forward motion toward home. 
The storm actually missed the Gold Coast, but the Sunshine Coast got whipped with wind, tearing off roofs and sent people running for cover.

As a victory, or perhaps a survival, celebration, Elliot bought us pizza and even let me watch a full episode of The Big Bang Theory, which he thinks is the worst show on TV (Enter your votes now).

Lessons learned from today you ask?

1) Surfing is damn hard to learn (at least my tail bone isn't killing me like when I learned to snowboard)
2) Elliot is a good friend and a patient instructor. (I'll get you a good price on lessons in you're ever in the Gold Coast area)
3) Dragon's Breath Pizza gives me tremendous gas, and may be the reason Elliot left his place a half hour ago, without notice, to go visit his brother in the apartment below.
Pictured below is Elliot's brother Xavier (or Xav or X - I'm actually not sure what his given name is).

                                            In this photo I'd like to refer to him as 'Surf Jesus'

Jimmy

Seeing the Gold For the Coast

I have lived on the Gold Coast for one week and have come up with one word to describe the people who live here: 'Spoiled'. Surrounded by beach, blue surf, beautiful people, and enveloped by a sun that kisses the skin. (unfortunately for my pasty skin, the sun's wearing bright red lipstick when she kisses me). The long term residents of Australia's Gold Coast take for granted the natural beauty and abundance of activities around them, seeking out new destinations to basically do the exact same thing they could be doing at home. Hence, why we are driving 45 minutes into NSW's to surf Byron Bay.
Now don't get me wrong, the place is beautiful. But if I walk out of Elliot's apartment in Palm Beach and take a right down 25th ave, and walk 30 meters I can get to almost the exact same beauty.
Your mission today, of you choose to accept it, is to step out of your comfort (boring) space and take a look around you. Appreciate where you are and take a stay-cation.
That being said, I moved thousands of miles from Canada to Australia and have discovered one of the most beautiful countries in the world.
I take it back, screw my lesson. See you in Byron Bay.

Cheers,
Jimmy

Byron Bay - Where Beauty Meets Beer

I had the opportunity to go down to Byron Bay with Elliot and the boys (+1 cool girl) on Sunday. Elliot kept saying it was going to be epic.


"Amazing surf" (don't forget, I can't surf), and a "plethora of beautiful women" (I am currently riding a heartbreak and have zero game anyway).

Upon arrival it was hard not to appreciate the beauty before me.




The water was the bluest of blue and the surf did look amazing.

I shot about 150 photos of surfers, sweet waves...

 ...fishermen



...and bikini clad beach bums.









As well as one topless, exhibitionist, young lady who camped out no more than 10 meters from me. (I protected her identity because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate her breasts on my blog)

After the boys, and girl, finished surfing, we had a couple of beach pops

 
 

 

 


...while Bobby (aka Bobcat) entertained







 
 

We headed back into the town of Byron Bay to experience the, much hyped, Beach Hotel tavern. (Did you know they're the number 1 seller of beer in all of Australia?) The tavern was fun, it was huge, full of attractive people, and Bobcat (sorry Bobby had to do it). I made sure the tavern stayed at the top of the beer purveyor list. Getting quite inebriated and watching Fun-Bobby turn from Bobcat to Bob-MadCat.

But gladly left at 8pm back to Queensland (Byron Bay is just across the border in NSW - a 45 minute drive from Palm Beach).

Keep in mind we left Palm Beach at 9am.
and thanks to a 10 hour sleep I felt like a million bucks this morning. Riding my beach cruiser to my new favourite coffee shop, the Barefoot Cafe.

Tonight it's a place called Mike's. Where a giant plateful of ribs is in store for my hungry belly. I'm gonna get FAT!

Jimmy Out...