What bad career choices have you made?
Recently, I had a surprise argument with a good friend over the sensitivity, or not, of celebrating Christmas. The friend, who was planning the December window display of his store, remarked, in such an off-hand manner that it chilled me to the bone, that he was having difficulty finding a “Happy Holidays” sign in Sydney.
Christmas, he said, causes terrible offence to our non-Christian brothers and sisters and therefore all references to the birth of Jesus must be evaporated.
I pitched camp on the side that once you remove all vestiges of the host culture a vacuum is created, which is henceforth filled, by another that doesn’t cringe at its own traditions.
We back and forthed, both making up facts and including anecdotes that didn’t happen, until I stormed off (briefly).
I ain’t one for believing in omnipotent gods, but Christmas, in my experience, is a rewarding time of the year, even if television programming suffers. To cast it aside is the first step in the crumbling of what is, mostly, a kind and just society, and least in comparison to many others around the world.
But young men know only lions get respect. If I was twenty, I might’ve heard the call to become a hero of the caliphate too.
Therefore, it doesn’t surprise me when I hear of young men taking up, with romantic zeal, the cudgel for ISIS, that dynamic offshoot of Al-Qaeda.
Let’s catalogue the benefits of an ISIS membership: you get to shoot machine guns with real bullets at real people. You’re encouraged to take multiple wives. You may take a battery of sex slaves, by force if necessary, if you’re the sort whose cock could drill holes in concrete. Every thought, meanwhile, is taken care of via an ultra-orthodox interpretation of the Koran.
Two years ago, the Australian doctor Tareq Kamleh, who trades under the Jihad name Abu Youssef al-Australi, whistled into Syria to join ISIS.
“It was a decision I was very, very happy I made,” he said at the time. Tareq also said any muslim who didn’t take up arms had “no self-respect.”
Yesterday, it was reported that the former surfer’s diary had been found by a former currency trader, who uses the pseudonym Macer Gifford, and who’d fought for the Kurds against ISIS.
As reported by Fairfax newspapers,
“(Kamleh) had an ‘obsession with vitamin pills’ and had many bottles for various purposes. Mr Gifford concluded the doctor was ‘an American Psycho-type man’, referring to the preening, charismatic but psychopathic book and film character.
“Former colleagues and acquaintances of Dr Kamleh’s have previously described him as charming but manipulative and sexually predatory.
“There was a meticulousness, an obsession with his health … He had a workout schedule of how many press-ups he was going to do. Just a neat, intelligent but slightly psychopathic character is what came across in his possessions.”
‘I don’t think he was a particularly happy character … He didn’t seem to be getting on with people there very much,’ Mr Gifford said.
Odd, but not surprising, story, yes?
Mystical worship and deep, fathomless submission only gets you so far.
Reality bites.
Now: what bad career choices have you made?
Let me start. I once spent two hundred thousand dollars on a water taxi business.
When that sank, not literally, but close when a ferry belted into the side, I poured fifty into an online surfing website.
You?
I poured $45k into a small run print magazine in 2015.
A couple of years back I ditched a very cushy and well paying job to chase my dream of becoming a shaper, working for a friend. 6 months later and almost loosing everything I went back to my cushy job.
Combining this and the giving up surfing stories. Took a job in the UAE to consolidate family finances. 10 hour drive to waves. Occasional surf trip holiday. 5 years later return to Australia with no actual improvement in financial situation. Within 3 years have to sell flat that was only investment/retirement hedge. Currently squiring a hefty credit card debt. On the plus side, Postie’s job has recently been pumped up so more hours mean going off Centrelink, I can surf every day and wife is currently awaiting news on tender application that will fully alleviate financial pressure if successful.
The fact that you had that much money to blow in the first place supersedes the fact that you lost it.
1.) Working for a wealthy entrepreneur who clearly had early stages dimentia 2.) Working for a religious non-profit who clearly were lying to people about where donations were going. 3.) I’m sure there are plenty more to come…
Never had enough money to make bad decisions with it.
From 1972-82, our family used to book a permanent camp site over the Xmas holidays at Broken Head. Over the years, dad got to know this guy who used to fish off the headlands a bit if the weather was too rough to take his inflatable rowboat out. About 1976, this bloke offered to sell my dad his couple of acres and cottage for a reasonable/well below market price for close enough to beachfront land. Dad turned George Greenough down.
A few years later, he wanted to invest and had to make a decision between the closest luxury flat to Tallows Beach or a luxury flat on the Gold Coast. He chose under the flight path to the Gold Coast airport, if you’re wondering.
Haha, sounds like my old man!
“Bitcoin’s Richest Mum Earns $608/hr by doing this” “Australia’s Bitcoin Mum Shares Her Amazing Bitcoin Hack
Sniggering at the back of the bus. Hang on, who’s the sucker?
I once paid for a surf guide in Peru; worst financial decision I ever made.
Peru surf guides are very cheap, no?
As a non Christian, I’m fine with Happy Xmas’s every the fuck where, but it’d be nice if people didn’t think it weird that you “didn’t really celebrate Christmas”. That’s all.
[Oh, and funding a film for trop-fest was not a good financial move, could’ve bought a return ticket to Bali on that 600AUD]
Fuck, if I didn’t get waves 4 days a week I would commit jihad too. The world sucks:( not sur jihad is the answer but it looks like a rush!
Now he can show up & blow up, literally.
I once threw 30 large into a dolphin tour charter boat. Not a bad gig, but the old converted shrimp boat had an old 3-53 Detroit diesel that leaked like a bad case of the clap.
Brother, I feel you. I had a Volvo Penta stern drive. On the slip every hundred hours.
Me Pam and Georgette brought a 1/2 pound of north florida meth to the quicksilver king of the peak contest to sell, but smoked it all on the ride down.
But I mean really, who doesn’t like some meth every now and again (and again, and again and again and again and again and again and again and again)?
Sublime.
I decided to be a digital surfboard, and used the Medina family for my marketing
Pouring money into a water taxi business, followed by a surfing website is hard to beat
I have a profound naiveté…
Running a surfing website with no ties must be barrel of monkeys fun though, yes?
It’s a game reserve of good times! Yes! Can’t eat fun, howevs.
So dodgy the traffic figures, sell BG to The Inertia or Stab, cash it, then startup 2.0
Wasnt there also a wax and traction pad company in this mix? or is that TBD on whether it was a solid career choice or not