Business as Unusual

Loans for young entrepreneurs

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 09:48:00 +0000

As a lot of us know it can often be quite the struggle to get a small business loan or some capital to start up your micro business. I've recently found that the National Australia Bank along with a social enterprise group called ENYA is trying to change that. They are offering unfixed loans of $500- $20,000 to people aged between 18 -29. The loan application process seems quite simple and is based pretty much on the strength of your business plan. It's really good to see something like this out there. Here's a snip from there website.

"ENYA, with the support of the National Australia Bank (NAB) is committed to assisting young people overcome these barriers and is proud to introduce the NAB Microenterprise Loan Program to young people. This innovative Program makes finance, business training and ongoing support available to young people to establish or expand a business.

Specifically ENYA and the NAB’s Microenterprise Loans have been developed to support young entrepreneurs by offering:

▪ A loan of between $500 and $20 000 to young people for the purpose of starting or growing a business.
▪ A low interest rate: 5.99% p.a. fixed for the term of the loan.
▪ Access to wide network of support services including a toll free advice line, an on-line forum for young entrepreneurs and free access to business information.
▪ Access to the Youth and Enterprise Legal Centre, another of ENYA’ s initiatives, which can help you with many of the legal matters associated with starting a business on a reduced-fee basis.
▪ The opportunity for skills development in relation to many of legal matters they face in business through the free Law Sense workshops and its comprehensive program materials."

for more www.enya.org.au

Innovic - Next big thing awards

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 05:12:00 +0000

Innovic is a Not-for-profit organisation that deliver a monster range of services for australian businesses. Every year they run the 'Next Big Thing' competition. with the winner recieving $50,000 dollars in cash and prizes, as well as gaining lots of media exposure. It's a tough competition with a lot of high quality entries but well worth trying to get into if you have a business that's a bit on the innovative side.

Vegetarian and vegan restaurant franchising

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 06:48:00 +0000

Today i was in the forum at Australian vegan business. It's great because people are starting to fire around business ideas and try get peoples opinion and reach out to possible partners ect. Someone posted a question about vegan restaurant franchises, it made me think what is actually out there for people if they are interested in starting a vegan/veg resturant but would like to go down the franchise route?

Right now i don't think there are many australian mainstream franchises that are very exciting. The only one that i think stands out is Fritz gelato, they seem to be popping up all ove the place and have about 40% vegan product.The gelati is bloody great as well. But away from the mainstream businesses I think the best oppertunities for a big thinker in ethical business. Might be to find a great restaurant with a good idea and not just start one franchise and run it themselves, but go into partnership with the owners actually selling the franchises themselves.

There are a lot of great restaurants in the city but only some would make a good franchise, because they have a model and method that can be repeated.

Some of the places i think would be the best from a franchise point of view would be.

Trippy Taco: 48 Smith St Collingwood 3066 VIC Phone: (03) 9415 7711

Trippy taco is a small mexican eatery on smith street, it's vegetarian with most things having a vegan option. They have a good name, good food with a simple menu, it's mexican so pretty easy to make. They started off doing food at festivals like Earthcore and now have their own shop on smith st. With a business like this it would be cool to see someone working with the owners to take it to the next level, because it really is a lot better than most tradional chains.

Lord of the Fries Elizabeth and Flinders street

Most melbourne vegetarian will know this place well but for you out of towners. LOTF is a veg/vegan fastfood place. Great burgers with TVP, fries done euro style with lots of sauce options. They have taken melbourne by storm with two shops now open ut i'm sure more coming. It would be an easy business to run as a franchise and good because a lot of meat eaters don't even seem to realise it's vegetarian.Because the business is doing well you don't know if they want to franchise or keep all new shops within the family. People in other states may get a better hearing if they feel they have Melbourne covered.

Probably an easier idea though one with less scope is to find a great Veg/Vegan franchise overseas and bring it to australia. Transporting ideas and products is a well abused tool in business and it really does work.

Maos Falafel:

Maos is a franchise falafel shop that i've been to in amsterdam. They really have shops all over the world, europe, china, america and now australia. Apparently there is one in perth. This shop is really quite nice for a franchise falafel shop but just beware that it doesn't go the route of falafel kitchen in australia and start doing meat as well.

I'd never really thought of the idea of franchised Veg/Vegan restaurants before but thinking about it there is a lot of oppertunity.I think for people who may be interested in starting a business but are a little nervous and don't want to go it totally alone, the franchise system can be an easier way to wade into businesses ownership. Also if you find a restaurant that has a great model but the owner maybe lacks the money or specialized knowledge to take it to the next level. You may have found a great oppertunty for yourself, them and to make Veg/Vegan food even more available and accepted.

Zero capital start ups

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 05:44:00 +0000

While it’s not exactly true I started Stay Human with zero capital it is true that is started it with only one thousand dollars and I blew all that in the first week buying equipment. Now six years later it’s paying the rent and earning about 30-40k a year. Not a monster business by any stretch of the imagination but I’m pretty happy considering where I started off and what I want out of it.

I think most people would assume that you need a lot of money to start a business and that it’s also going to be a risky endevour that could involve you losing that money. While it’s true that 90% of small businesses fail within the first year and that often involves them losing a lot of money and basically going through self inflicted hell. Most people start businesses in ways that are a lot more risky than they need to be because they lack patience. People think start a business and they think open a shop. But the reason all these 90% of businesses are failing is because the people running them are really good at signing themselves up to fixed costs when they have no fixed income.

You can start a business with just a good idea and time. You can start off with a website that you run while still keeping your day job, you can start with weekend markets, you can start with a catalog and a home office, you can start by stocking other peoples shops with your items. These are ways to get the ball rolling. Stay Human is making me a living wage now, but it’s been going for six years and it certainly wasn’t making me enough to live on in the first couple. The reason I didn’t go bust is because I never expected it too and I never depend on it’s income to pay the rent. With a zero capital start up you have to be realistic in what you expect from the business in terms of return, if you invest no money in adversting other than some flyers and the website can you really expect people to give you the $50,000 a year you need to quit working? Or is it more reasonable to figure I’ll start off slow, build up and up over time and eventually I’ll be doing business full time and my call centre job will be just a bad dream.

Innovic - Next big thing awards

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 02:04:00 +0000

BESB - Building entrepreneurship in small business

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 01:36:00 +0000

The BESB program is offered by AusIndustry and is grants package that offer four services. Training and mentoring, seccession planning, incubators and field officers. Instead of giving you a cash grant if you win a BESB grant you can access any of these depending on which one you applied for. Most people in small business could probably use a little help with planning and making the most of the business but actually stumping up to pay for it isn't a reality when every dollar of even your own money is generally going straight back into the business. These grants are a good ways to get services you wouldn't get yourself but may help.

Visit the website for full details and entry forms.

BESB - building entrepreneurship in small business

oigin/3aw small business awards - monthly

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 01:09:00 +0000

3aw radio and origin energy have a small business give away which they run each month on air during the Neil Mitchell morning show. The prizes is a weekend getaway package and accomadation, aswell as a $1000 gift voucher at Office works. To enter you just have to send in 250 words about your successful venture. You also get mentioned on the show and their website.

For more information: 0rigin/3aw small business awards

or download the entry form

Australian Vegan Business

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 11:58:00 +0000

A new website has recently been set up it's called Australian Vegan Business. It's a great little venture set up to help promote vegans in business and to try facilitate more networking amoungst vegan businesses. It's quite easy to jump on there and add you own business, so if you are eligible you should. There is also a good forum section where people can search for possible partners for new ventures or just kick around ideas.

It's really good to see people starting these sorts of things and it'll be interesting to see just how many vegan business people there are out there. So have a gander at who's listed and try support those in your area if you can.

-rocket

Product placements are the new ads

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:39:00 +0000

Lately I’ve been watching way way too much streaming TV episodes on the internet. Currently the shows I’m embarrassing myself by enjoying are the apprentice and top model. The really interesting thing about both of these shows is that they tackle the problem of rampart streaming and downloads by just putting the ads into the TV content. With an episode of the apprentice the format runs like this. They meet trump somewhere and he tells them about a great building of his and introduces a great company that he loves like Microsoft. Then the teams build different ads for the new x-box which we see both of and they get judged, and then the winning team goes to some diamond company or something and gets free things. Each episode is jam packed with product placements, product mentions and the Donald’s glowing endorsements.

With top model Tyra Banks honestly gets her face in front of the camera every two seconds, she certainly takes the position that she is her own brand which she relentlessly plugs. The challenges on Top Model ranging from the models doing cool photo shoots in water tanks or to starring in Tyra’s film clip which later played full length at the episode end. Apparently she had a music career. The shows sponsors also get heavy play with phrases like ‘the models must go to the L’Oreal hair and makeup room now' getting used with no trace of irony.

It’s a testimony to how successful a tactic it is, with top model now in its 10th cycle and also having national versions all over the place like Germany’s top model with Heidi and apprentice having about 6 sessions itself. The only problem with this idea is if the shows get taken over by the placements and the show and characters are pushed to the background. One big example of this was in the most recent finale of apprentice when Shawn was picked as the apprentice instead of actually being able to say his thanks and give a bit of a speech, he was pushed off screen by trump to run down stairs and stand by this car that he’d won.

Unlike apprentice, top model hasn’t ever sacrificed the actual shows watch-ability to the placements; they just cram them in where they can. The good thing about this tactic is that many more shows will start to become available online because companies can be charged for these pseudo ads. What I’m hoping is that soon enough people be able to produce web shows throw in a few product placements and be able to pay their rent. It’s funny because the internet hasn’t only throw a gear in the works for the music industry but the entertainment industry has totally changed as well. The most popular shows on TV are now reality shows which are very cheap to make and it would be fair to say that a lot of shows would get downloaded or watched online more than on actual TV. Hopefully this will mean more independent shows.

rant about booze and bars

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 10:25:00 +0000

You guys have probably seen that because good old K-Rudd has been talking about the alcohol industry and how they are basically profiting off our misery in by promoting 'alcopops' stuff like cruisers. Well they respond like any industry that is worried that they will actually face some regulations and they have tried to curb their worst excesses to prove they actually have souls. So now a few big companies are ditching their drink lines that are premix and over 7% alcohol but are keeping the 7% and lower ones.

It's retarded that no ones has pushed for this until now. I mean it's pretty obvious kids want to drink and what stops them drinking way too much isn't common sense but cost. I really think they should limit these drinks alcohol content to 5%. this way you have to drink a decent amount to get really pissed. When I was a teenage in Ballarat we all drank at stupid ages as well but it was a lot harder to get pissed on beer and cask wine.

Now the news media has latched onto the fact that Melbourne city at night is fucking horrible. I’m glad that they are realizing that Melbourne’s great nightlife also has a nasty side. we've got some cool clubs and spots but getting home is the problem. It also shows that all these bars and alcohol companies are doing a great job at externalizing the costs of business onto us. Here are pubs, bars and clubs in the city making packets of money getting people drunk. Yet the police are struggling because they are understaffed and hospitals are struggling because they are under funded and ordinary people are increasingly becoming the victims of alcohol fueled crime.

Imagine a Saturday night in the city if no one was drunk. The hospitals would have a lot less people to patch up, the police would have a lot less fights and assaults to stop and the mood would be lot safer. so then it's clear that by selling alcohol all the bars in Melbourne are actually costing the city money. yet they don't contribute any extra. The costs drunken people cause to society should be borne by the people who made the money off getting them drunk in the first place. Why the hell should tax payers be forced to spend more money on police to protect the cities atmosphere when it's the bars and clubs that are causing the problem? they profit from making people drunk as a collective industry and as an industry they should have to foot the fucking bill to fix the situation.

Look I’m not some stickler I like to have a night out as well, but the city right now is out of control. So instead of allowing these businesses to make money off making our city a worse place to live in we need to charge them more for doing business and use that money to lessen the impact. In Melbourne you can get a liquor license for $500 but in Sydney it's more like $15,000. I think liquor licenses can be cheap to give small businesses a chance to start up with small investment but they should be forced to pay a levy of between 1-5% of their income straight back to the city depending on how they operate. This money will be divided among the police, hospitals and alcohol rehab programs.

We have to stop letting businesses of all kinds from gambling, alcohol, energy and basically everything else from pushing the costs of their profit making onto us. The states pokies machines make billions but who pays to try put the people’s lives back together? certainly not the casinos and football clubs. Power companies pollute the air to create electricity and get paid but when do they have to pay for fucking up the atmosphere?

We have to stop letting businesses externalize costs onto us and we can't ever let them convince us that they have the right to make money. No one has the right to make a profit. The permission to make money is given to people by society on the proviso that they don't fuck people over while doing it. But they seem to think that they can do what they want and that even the government doesn't have the right to tell them not to act like such rabid animals. We need to regulate industry because these pigs will never regulate themselves. They feel it's their right to make money and who cares who gets hurt along the way.

The corporation - streaming documentary

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 11:50:00 +0000

This is a great documentary about the modern corporation and how it's changed our world forever.Lots of information about the biggest companies of the day and the kind of dubious things they get up to. The makers of this great and very watchable doco have released it for free so have a look and if you like it visit their website and think about giving a paypal donation.

temptation of sweaty cash.

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 13:43:00 +0000

Once I spoke to a music management class about Stay Human. A friend of mine was teaching the class and thought it might be a good chance for me to meet some future band and event managers, which it was. After talking for a bit about Stay Human and the like, one of them asked me if my business was a success because of our ethics or in spite of it.

I really feel like all the success that I have is because of the ethics and not in spite of it. Stay Human is a business that pushes it’s ethics right out the front and we are constantly getting positive feedback about it. I can’t imagine if an ordinary merchandise company sent out one hundred myspace messages to bands they would get ten replies saying they love what they are doing. The mission changes us from being a mundane company, into something special. Another one in the class asked me if I’ve ever been tempted by a dodgy order. Up until a point of about four years ago I had just never even been tempted to do the wrong thing. People knew we were an ethical company, they knew our prices and that was that. But one big corporate clients that we have wanted a product that we didn’t offer, temporary tattoos, they could be sourced in Australia for about .30 cents a unit, in china for .5 cents. They wanted me to get them for .10 cents. This was a huge order that would have netted us about $5,000 dollars in profit for basically sending this company in china an email with their artwork.

I’m not going to bullshit you, I was tempted. $5,000 profit was at the time about two months worth of trading profits. I was at the time pretty broke and planning to go overseas, what a nice little bonus for myself, pay back for the years of towing the line. The reason I think ethical businesses owners should think of themselves as self funded activist and not just business people servicing a niche market is because of this type of thing. A business person might be swayed by money, but an activist never could be.I wasn't about to turn the last four years of trading and talking into a lie. I was not going to make myself into a fraud and a joke for the sake of some money. So I had to say no to the order.

The funny things was in the next week I landed three really good orders from some of our other bigger customers that almost made up for it. Karma baby, karma.

Don't punish your customers for having ethics

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 13:26:00 +0000

One of the reasons big business are so big and successful is that they are generally very professional and organized. One place in which a lot of us small business owners fall down is that we are often less organized than or big business and unethical competition. Also as ethical products almost always cost more we should be delivering service that is equal to, if not better aswell.

Right now in the market place right now people have the choice between paying more money and going with the ethical option, or paying less and going with the unethical option. What we don’t want to do is punish people for doing the right thing. A case with a band I know happened recently. They were looking to get some garments for their band, I was overseas at the time and I couldn’t make them so they went to another ethical garment printer. The first batch got messed up by the screen printer, but were dispatched anyway, when they asked for them to be redone, they were told they could be redone for cost price. Running a small business I know where the business was coming from. Their profit margin was probably slim and to re-print the shirt they would have lost a few hundred dollars on the order. But from the bands point of view the garments were un-saleble, so they were not what was ordered.

Later when I talked to the guys from the band about the whole incident they were totally disheartened because they knew if they had gone to one of the big sweatshop garment producers, like love police or KOSM, they would have received much better service and a full refund when they needed it. It’s not about ethical and unethical business, but rather big vs small business. We just need to get ourselves much more organized. It’s fair enough we might be too broke to do full refunds, if that’s the case don’t make mistakes. If you do however make a mistake we must pay for it like any other business.

I short we can’t punish people for having morals. We have to make sure that we're giving fantastic service and competing with big businesses on delivery and professionalism, even if we can't always compete on price.

Brunswick Idol

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 12:47:00 +0000

So whys a punk kid now making hiphop tracks, cause i got sick of waiting for bands to call me back. Asking around town trying to find a position, they say ok rocket come in for an audition, so i get to the rehersal room and there is a line of other singers, and now i'm involved in a singing competition. What the fuck is this? brunswick idol? and of course they don't appreciate my rough vocal style. It's about content not delivery, and crimpshrine taught me to sing raspy. If i was a better singer, i wouldn't mind the judgement, but i'm not, so i do, so i walk out the room. I had songs and verse that i wanted heard, so i started to do some spoken word, going to the pub on sunday when they read poetry, but i'm a bit straight forward, it wasn't really my scene. I'm starting to get angry at other singers on stage, why do they get to express all their pain and rage? So i got a $20 mic and audacity and started this hiphop catastrophy.

My names rocket, you've never heard of me. That's cause i'm nothing much i'm a nobody. But i won't stay unknown, i won't stay obscure, i won't be an eternal amature. Cause what i lack in verbal style i make up for in fire, what i lack in talent and skill i supplement with overkill. Of course i'm pretty shit i've been at this three weeks, but i'll be decent given a year to practise. It's like starting at the bottom again. like joining mondo pest way back in year ten. When i picked up a bass and played constantly, gave myself calluses from all the practising. I don't need anyone's permission, i don't need a spot, i don't need a position. I don't need to be the singer in a band, now i have a laptop and a mic in my hand.

Demolished Dreams

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 12:23:00 +0000

In my city there is a vacant lot in every street, piles of plaster, brick and broken memories. A single door still stands banging in the breeze, vacant lots now where houses used to be.
We get a letter in mail, their evicting. Move our things out, they move the bulldozers in.
Just memories now, so if mundane or bad, those memories are all that were allowed to have.
Now that the kibble has taken back, all the places that we used to interact, do they see just a dim lit storage space or do they see all the things that we used to create. Even if only in the minds of us few, it kept them rotting with the wet wood. Do they see just a pile of rubble or the place where our dreams once stood?

Why are my memories always swept away? or covered over with coats of white paint?
once vivid memories they degrade and fade, solid black turns to charcoal gray.

A mixtape lost in the shift, the only evidence of bands that the big time missed. Photocopied
zines and ill attended gigs, handful of bands and fewer kids. So many bands that never left the
praco room were so much better than those that do. So many songs created from the thin air
were just left hanging there. So many plans i had written down the following day they were forgotten about. So many convictions i scribed in white and blue, the following day i put a line right through.

Why are my memories always swept away? or covered over with coats of white paint?
once vivid memories they degrade and fade, solid black turns to charcoal gray.

burger betrayal

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 12:07:00 +0000

His wife slinked in the front door and made a speedy beeline for the bathroom, saying in a cheery tone ‘hey, I’m home’ as she passed the doorway of the study. He sat looking at the computer screen and listened to her brush her teeth. He looked down at his wrist and the silver Seiko that pronounced the time to be five forty six. The watch was an anniversary present.

He was more angry than he was upset about the intrigues of his wife. It was clear she was hiding something or should he say, someone from him. About once a week she would arrive home forty minutes later than usual and go straight into the bathroom to brush her teeth and re-apply some perfume.
She appeared from the bathroom and came up to the study where he sat typing again.
‘how’s it coming?’ she asked looking over his shoulder and at the pages of black and white text that was his cookbook to be.

Instead of ignoring it, he was angry enough to be bold ‘did you just brush your teeth?’ he asked it with as much wonderment as he could muster.
A look of embarrassment and apprehension swept like a wave across her face. ‘oh.’ ‘yeah’ she stuttered then seizing on something ‘yeah I had some falafel for lunch and didn’t want to smell all garlicky’
Nice save he thought.

He looked over the dinner table at her and wondered where it all went wrong. She only picked her plate which was wild rice and lemon grass with a side raw salad and dates, he was writing a cook book called ‘the macrobiotic gluten-free vegans guide to cookery with flare’. She had fully encouraged him to do it, it was something they could experiment in together. Or so she’d said, now she stared through her plate obviously thinking of somewhere she’d rather be, or should he say someone she’d rather be with.

Next Wednesday he called her where she worked at a vegan shoe store at two thirty. ‘hey honey I’ve come up with a great recipe! And all you get to know is mushroom, pine nuts, chick peas and moogly for desert’
‘great honey’ she replied in a very cheerful tone. ‘I’ll be about an hour late though cause we are doing stock take.’
‘ok’ he replied, ‘c-ya’

As soon as he hung up the phone he knew today was the day he would sting her. He’d been ringing up everyday with some little thing he ‘needed’ to tell her, just giving her the chance to tell him she would be late. Stock take? Ha bullshit he’d talked to her boss on Monday and knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be doing stock take til Friday.

At five he was ready in position across the road from her work waiting. She would be easy to follow because neither of them believed in cars unless they could get a diesel van to run on used vegetable oil but he didn’t know the first thing about engines.

At one past five the she stepped out of the store and started walk briskly down the street. The bitch he thought, she had a grin a mile wide. She walk right past the tram stop that would take her home and stepped around a corner. He slowly crossed the road after her knowing they must not have far to travel since the whole affair was over in time for her to get home at five forty. As he went to turn the corner, he ran smack right into a massive chest whose owner had a studded leather jacket and an off green mohawk.

He was tore between a moral duty and getting to the bottom of things. He looked up at the punk towering above him and glaring down. They looked at each other for a good five seconds. Then.

‘ I suppose you think it’s ok to commit murder for fashion hey!’ he piped up
‘oh..shut up hippy I don’t give you guys crap about your Birkenstocks’ the guy said in a slow and expressive Scottish voice
‘I’m not a hippy thanks very much, I just don’t think wearing the hide of a dead animal is very anti-establishment and…’ he noticed that he was now talking to himself as the verbal opponent had walked off.

He stepped up the street wondering if he would catch up with Sara and what kind of a guy or girl she would be going behind his back with. What would his reaction be? He walked past a McDonalds as he scoured the street for her, she wasn’t anywhere he could see. Disappointed he turned to start walking home when a terrible drawn out scream of ‘No!’ ripped from his lungs and echoed down the street.

There in the gherkin stained glass window was his sweetheart with her teeth clamped down on a quater pounder with cheese and a rapt look of ecstasy on her.

no sweatshop debate

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 12:46:00 +0000

Recently i wrote a blog about the no sweatshop label. After i wrote it i emailed them and let them know, they got back to me with their point of view which has put some things in a new light. I can see most of their points so I've taken the initial blog down, but we still clash on one major issue.

As a part of what i wrote my major point was that companies who are producing things ethically in Australia but also suppling sweatshop made goods can be accredited to carry the no sweatshop label. So you could buy a hoody or garments that is made by workers in Australia who are making good wages, thanks to the code, but the profit from that goes to a company that is heavily investing in sweatshops and profiting from them in other markets. That's not to my definition ethical at all. Especially when the company is predominately a sweatshop supplier but dabble in Australian produced goods for the niche market of people with souls.

On one hand i understand verifying what companies do overseas is basically impossible unless you're funded by the UN and even then you'd have a hard time sorting the wheat from the chaff. But to list them as 'ethical suppliers' because they offer one ethically produced product line in a family of exploitation products is very misleading. I understand that we live in the real world and that engaging with these companies may mean that their Australian work force is now getting a much better deal, and that's great, but they should be on a separate list to the ones who are 100% no sweatshop. This way they have something to aim for. If they get all the benefits of the code now why would they seek to improve their practises?

What i would like to see with the code is a simple change to the listing of companies. maybe adding a nice little gold star next to the companies that only produce in Australia. This way people can more easily direct their business to them. In the end it's almost a debate about ethical investment. Is a product really no sweatshop if the money made from it goes to sweatshops?

comments?

-Rocket

Blog related links

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 00:48:00 +0000

Here are some links to more blog info. i've been adding my blog to a few of these directories, some are massive with 1000's of blogs to browse thru.

A1 Web Links Blog Directory

The Blog Resource

GeekySpeaky: Submit Your Site!

Live simply

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 01:35:00 +0000

There is no room for indecision now i'm stricken with the vision, the world in which we are living is an economic prison. We've got shoes made by slaves making cents for a wage, 16 hours a day apparently that's ok. We've got to debunk the lie, that any crime is justified as long as it keeps the share prices high. Half of the world is drowning in poverty, the other half living in the lap of luxury, but this decadence has become absurdity, do we really need cars with pimped out plasma screens? Gandhi said live simply so others may simply live, but fuck the starving kids I'll drive a beemer instead.

live simply so others may simply live

If every time you touched something, or entered a room, you felt the emotional impressions left by those who came before you. i wonder what stories and tales you might find, about the people who make the trinkets of our manufactured lives. Rare objects made with loving craftsmanship, in this age of mass production and glossy marketing. a creepy despair the only tangible human emotion, gets into you blood and spreads like poison. This waste a disgrace and so superfluous, no wonder the third world is cursing us.

Live simply so others may simply live

Like cordellia chase of Apocalypse visions, not a choice or decision, but a gift that was given. A gift to see the future a curse to know what's there. think past bottled water start thinking bottled air. No public space for the likes of me and you. every inch sold for ad revenue. You live in the city but own a 4wd, lets just kiss the ozone goodbye. engines roar, oil pours co2 levels sour the water level raise just a little more. The land on which we stand is slipping away, island nations being engulfed by the waves. ever heard the term environmental refugee? stay turned to it being screamed for your tv screen.

Live simply s0 others may simply live

Stepping on snails

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 01:11:00 +0000

Stacey crept forwards across the wet grass towards the slouching factory.A mini disc recorder stuffed into his puffy black jacket and a directional microphone in one hand. He was out scrounging for sounds and samples.

The first steps down the path he was now walking, were made as a bored kid waiting at the bus stop to get home from school. He sat on the texta scared wooded slate seats, long after the other kids had disappeared, trying to fit bad ryhmes to the monotone drone of the buses revving engines. Mostly the engine rev's were way too fast for him, but once in awhile you'd get a driver who would push his foot down and up on the pedalin impatience, creating a pulsing beat stacey would bust a few lines too.

A few days later he brought his dad's dictaphone and a 10 minute tape his brothers shitty punk band had used as demos. He taped the bored drivers beat and went home to do surgery with sticky tape and scissors. Looping the tape into itself he could practise for hours.

He stepped over a feeble excuse for a barbed wire fence that was rusted and had half collapsed. Eyes flickering around the darkness, he edged towards the wire grate set in the grimy yellow brick walls of the fertiliser production plant.

Stacey's hobby with sound soon deepened to obsession when he inherited a handful of computer disks from his brother, filled to the brim with pirate music software. His elder brother, with a headful of akward brown spike for hair, said
"you can have these, we had a few go's of recording with them but they are dodgy i reckon''
"maybe you're just stupid" stacey quipped, the eternal little brother.
'oh, i thought you wanted these' his brother replied, slowy pulling the disks back.
'sorry'

After a few long hours of frustration he was on his way to becoming a neighbourhood character.Crouching near your lawn mower with a mic in hand and headphones on. Or in the city recording the ryhmic plastic bumping of the train station entry gates. Or the hurried march of leather business shoes on the melbourne pavement.

Out of the grill in the factory, issued a sound, like kitty litter falling onto a metal floor. Not at all cool. For a fertiliser plant stacey was looking for some gross, wet, hideous slurping noises.He walked along the building to another grill, the wind began to whisle, he hoped it wouldn't effect the audio.

He'd been at it for around two years when he had his great idea.He had become a vegan around six months ago and was watching all sorts of disturbing battery farm documentries. He wondered if all the horrible shrieks and animal cries and conveyor belt rattles could some how be turned into something beautful? Could he collect the sounds issued by these polluting modern monster factories and twist them, distort them and sculpt them into something he could hand back to the human race? A small token to make up for the horror, pestilance and pain they caused. But quickly he realised that music made from these factories waste noise should not leave the listener at ease. Rather filled with rage and ever increasing anger.

The next metal grill offer similar kitty litter noises so he stepped quietly towards the back of the building. The wind brought a smell so rank and caustic in it's claws that it immediately brought tears to stacey's eyes. 'shit' he mumbled to himself blinking them away. The only thing that could smell that raw was, he leaned around the corner and peaked, a bubbling ditch filled with an almost glowing lake of fertiliser run off. Whole empty barrels bobbed up and down like rusty corks in the murky sea of bubbling residue. The wind still whipped gentle waves of fumes strong enough to singe your nose hairs.

Stacey crouched down low and pointed his microphone at two men in business suits who stood near the new river stix and a small bobcat earthmover.
'well it's bloody cheaper bill' said the taller of the two. He looked like his apartment probably had free gym membership.
'i know that but in ten years the land will be toxic' said the other
'make sure you sell in nine years then' the tall one boomed with an aggressive slap to the bill's back. Stacey's mind raced ahead of him. He'd call the cops, he'd call the EPA before beavis and bill had time to bury the evidence. He took a few careful steps in retreat and with week old vegan microfibre shoes stood on a huge mutant snail, that died with a sickenigly loud crunch.

Stacey shuddered right down his spine. He looked at the tragic mess that was once the snail, It's former home now just little brown daggers cutting it's soft green body to ribbons. He turned and ran.In moments though a meaty hand seized the collar of his puffy jacket, and was dragging him backwards through the rich black dirt. It seemed that the bigger business man, with less scruples, also played aussie rules and was quite the runner.

Stacey lay on the ground next to the contents of his upturned backpak and was confronted with the question 'who the fuck are you?''
'i'm just an artist and was taping sound samples to making into music!'he exasperated.
'well thats a new one, what did you tape'stacey's hands fumbled through the pages of loose leaf lyrics, past his mobile phone, to find the mini disc player and hand it over. Bill bit his nails in nervous apprehension while the big one listened to his own voice incriminating him.

He took out the head phones and shook his head at bill. Looking down at stacey he asked softly
' so we come to the most important question of your life. do you have a girlfriend...stacey?' he was reading the name from the stolen wallet in his hand.
'um...i did. together a year and a half but we broke up last week.' stacey said in a wounded voice.His large captor looked at bill again, shaking his head again
'Thats very bad for you stacey. Because while you look stupid enough to risk your own life, not many people would want me to rape and kill their lover, now would they?' He said almost laughingly, at the logic of it. He quickly added 'why the break up?'

Stacey in total emotional and expectational confusion just spat out the answer. 'well sometimes is say things that hurt her feelings, then i will apologise by saying something like 'i'm sorry i let myself say that' or ' it's hurts me that i've upset you' and she gets madder because i don't just say 'sorry, i hurt you'.
'i'm only uspet that i hurt her, but i phrase it badly i guess'
stacey sat looking at the big brute urging him to get it, forgeting the lake of pollution and his pending doom.
'What kind of weirdo faggot shit is that!' the big one said blinking to life. He added ' a few weeks ago my missus found out that i've been banging my ex on the side. She got all narky and upset about it, so i took her to a fancy resturant and got some nice jewelry and that's that.' 'you bloody kids and your fucking emotions.'

The tall guy reached out his hand and helped stacey to his feet.
'that no girlfriend is a peice of bad luck, amigo' he said. Stacey had almost agreed when the right hook knocked him out and sent him back snuggling into the rich black dirt. Bill walked over to his prone body.
'what should we do with him?' well you get twenty years for murder. But, motioning to the lake of acidic death 'that will cost around twenty million.' Bill silently took hold of staceys legs.

One. Two. Three.

they launched his body heave ho style into the toxic river. His head making a dull clank as it hit a rusty barrel before stacey slipped beneath the putrid surface of his final resting place.

The big murder bent down to pick up stacey's bag and musical master peices and yelled to bill to start the earth mover. As he held stacey's phone it beeped as it recieved a message. The killer laughed reading it.

' Hey bill tell the kid it's his girlfriend,
she's sorry and wants to get back together!'

page long waste

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 00:59:00 +0000

Sometimes he imagined that he was just like a parasite. His eyes cast across the hard wood floor that was wet with spilled beer and littered with crumpled and used cigarettes. There was a sea of people, girls with lime green mid-rift tops and short skirts, boys with boat shoes and boyle sunglasses. They all really did look quite similar and he thought that's what they were probably aiming for.

The girl he looked at was a friend of a friend, a fairly dubious connection but he thought that he could pull it. What kind of parasite he'd never really worked out. Later on that night with the girl asleep next to him in a messy bedroom in a strange house, he looked at the ceiling and smiled. It wasn't the devious smile of a villain, but one of stupid contentment. In the morning he said goodbye and a feeling he knew well crept over him. A slow running feeling that lurks in through your kidneys and into your bones and you don't know how but the emotion actually causes you physical pain. He was already feeling the tinges of loneliness.

He sometimes viewed peoples dating patterns and now his own like writing a short story. In that a great idea is wasted if you don't use it to it's full potential. The next few days he sat in his room and looked at things. He went to his friend's houses and he filled in his life with distractions. Maybe he was like a parasite that was weak itself but fed quite regularly off stronger creatures.

In a few days he was out and doing things. He talked to girls and paid attention to their eyes, and to their smiles. Did they think that he was worthwhile? worth their time? worth anything? And if he thought that they did he smiled and walked around confident. He would look at himself a hundred times in the mirror and smile. Thinking he was someone.

Clearly he was not someone, maybe two people but not one. When he was at a party talking to a girl he would drink beer after beer, for the same reasons he envisioned everyone else did, to make talking easier, to become someone he wanted to be,the someone girls at that party might want to be with.

He wasn't that person he was a rather sick kind of parasite, he needed too much, much more than he could produce. So he was forced to seek out people and feed off them, make them tell him he was strong and worth something, because he was too weak to tell himself or to stupid to listen.

And he kept going and going. He'd met somebody and they were rad. They'd share a night, maybe a few days, then it was over. Peer pressure and the laws of hip detachment demanded no less.He'd go on and find another person and another. He'd look at their lips and their smiles, he'd ask them about their dreams. And everyone had great plans for grand adventures except for him, so in the night whilst they slept in his arms and he let the smell of their hair or skin wash over him he fed on their dreams and made believe they were his too.

If his life was a movie the screen now would fade to black because nothing would ever really change. The only really change is he learned more and more how to be on the outside what people wanted to be with. For him everything was a page long waste of a great idea.

You're a fucking parasite i can smell your desperation. You're like a tram ticket, you need validation. Or more like a puddle, all murky and shallow. don't talk to me, don't even say hello. I don't want to catch something and you seem contagious. I don't want a case of sleazy fuckitis. you've got a lot of flaws and no redeeming features. i'm friends with human beings not undead creatures.

Direct sale dodginess

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 00:48:00 +0000

Recently i had a very interesting week. I got myself a job, i got myself a very bad job. It was selling credit cards to peoplein the street, i was one of those annoying people who hassle you in malls. The reason i did it was i needed money and i got the job the day i applied. I quit seven days after i started. But i'm very glad i did it, basically just because of the insight into businesses like that.

It was a comission based job. sign someone up and get $30, the company gets around $30 as well. Most of the sales people will only get around 0ne to three sales a day. So working for 10 hours you might make $90.The jobs is terrible for the worker, but for the company? well they have something like 200 people out in the field every single day. So even if we all only get a single sale each,thirty dollars for a days work, the company still rakes in six thousand dollars every day.

So why do people do this work? well the turn over is massive. i'd say more than half the people quit within the first week. But the companies that do this have a very rapid promotion system. So if you work there for around 6 months you will have worked up to a team leader spot and get a cut of what your team makes, stay for around a year and a bit and then you're an owner. They then let you start your own company somewhere else. So you move somewhere else with you new team, who get paid shit while you rake it in.

The only reason this currently works is that there is still room in the market for these companies to expand. But once they run out of shopping mall spots, they won't be able to keep creating new companies etc. They also spend more than half of their time just recruiting people. They must hire around 20 to 50 new people a week to make up for the ones who quit after a few days.

What i just don't get is that with all the ways to make money in the world, why do people keep choosing ways that rely on other people getting screwed to work? I mean there are plenty of business models in which workers get well paid and the owner gets well paid and the customer even gets a good price. But these pigs think that they have the right to do this sort of thing.
What makes me sick is you see businessmen in their slick cars, in slick suits and they think that they are it. They think they are a big deal, they think they are smart and clever. People blindly admire their luxury, without asking where it comes from. They are drug dealers, they are slave owners, they are pimps.They make their money fucking other people. So why should i respect them? Would i respect someone who has a nice house but got his money from plantation slavery? no, so why should i respect a person who is rich because they commit legal crimes.

Cast your vote in the brand name ballot box, vote big business,vote one sweatshop. What kind of world are we really building when the west wears clothes made by eastern children? when making money is your only ambition, we create a world like anapocalypse vision. when the luxury of the western world is funded by the rest of the worlds misery, we see clearly. That capitalism isn't a blessing but a disease.

Futura

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 14:10:00 +0000

FUTURA

Robert White bustled his moderately overweight and considerable clumsy self over the small brick path towards his carport. Fumbling one handed through the pocket of his slightly ruffled suit, he retrieves his keys and manages not to drop the massively overstuffed briefcase that bulges at his side.

Inside the small frame of the carport doorway he presses the white plastic switch and beholds his pride and joy, a 1996 Subaru Futura in midnight blue. He pauses slightly to admire his beautiful car before climbing in and hurriedly reversing. The red scoria driveway makes a satisfying crunching sound as the tyres roll over the small stones, grinding them into each other.
Once Robert’s merged with the traffic of the freeway and is safely inserted in the brightly painted yellow lane designated for “ground vehicles”. His small eye’s flick from his speedo ,that reads 100, and his own tiny and dinky lane to the massive six rows of glittering and shiny hovercraft traffic next to him. The huge metal beasts zip past him on their fancy air cushions, the pretentious wankers driving them no doubt looking down their nose’s through the heavily tinted and bullet proof windows as they cruise by doing 230.

Robert never understood why hover owners were so damned up themselves, it’s not like their cars can fly, It’s only a few centimetres off the ground. Most of them can’t even drive they just climb into their cushy little cabins and the computer says “dear mister pratt sir, where to?” and off it goes.

Another thing that got up Roberts nose was the absolute lack of care they took with their cars. People would snicker and make jokes toward him when every Sunday without fail he would roll his 1996 Subaru Futura up onto his lawn and wash it. “Don’t make them like that anymore” they’d say voices thick with sarcasm almost threatening to say “thank god for that.”
Robert continued his scathing mental rhetoric until he reached the off ramp for his work. Turning his hands on the wheel, he sent the Futura gliding under the large metal “Chipco inc” sign and into the company car park. It was filled as usually. The large hovercrafts all resting heavily on their now deflated air cushions under the dim lights that hung from the ceiling. Robert smiled to himself, satisfied knowing that he had a park ready and waiting. There were two designated “ground car” parks and god knows that a hover trying to fit into a ground car park was like fitting something really big into something pretty small.

Robert rounded a grey concrete corner just in time to see a hover charging toward the ground car parks. It was a newer flasher model with the disgusting yet amazingly popular rust colour scheme, just as it was about to smash into the far wall it gratingly spun 90 degrees and stopped. The hideous thing now lurched longways right across the middle of the two spaces. Robert looked on mortified as the fit thirty something form of Tye Davidson leapt from the hovers robust and semi-armoured cab. “Hey Rob did ya see that!” he shouted quite impressed “Try getting your museum piece to pull that one!!” With that he strode off into the awaiting mouth of an empty elevator.

Vile thoughts of Tye Davidson rolled around in Robert’s head as he trudged back from the private and very expensive car park situated six blocks from work. Tye Davidson. The stealer of corner offices, promotions, ideas and now it seemed car parks. Robert had been working for Chipco since he was twenty three. In the twenty or so odd years he had seen quite a few royal bastards rise from the ranks and over take him, none so bad though as Tye.

Robert thought of seeing the boss about all this, march into his office and demand something be done, nothing would be done of course because Tye was the boss’s favourite lackey by far.
Work was going to be dull that day. It consisted of Robert sitting at a computer terminal tapping away, trying to model a new chip form for some modern stupidity. “Chipco” did everything. Phones, computers, houses and cars. Anything that could, should and shouldn’t have a computer inserted in it, did have. Robert plodded even more on today’s project. Model #7452 Hovercraft Navigation And User Identification. God, hovers. Robert would not help those bastard things. Especially since lately he’d noticed that the midnight blue duco of his car was being slowly eaten at by the high pressure air pockets made by them.

The radio in the Futura blared as Robert and it cruised along the yellow painted road of the “ground car” lane, a particularly catchy song was interrupted by the breakthrough news that none other than “Chipco’s” own Tye Davidson had invented a revolutionary new chip that would soon become the industry standard. “Great” Robert muttered “wonder which poor bastard he stole that idea from.”

The next few weeks were busy, busy, busy. Nothing but the Tye Davidson chip model #7453 what a breakthrough. Robert had begun to tape all of the news shows he appeared on. His young and athletic face topped with a blonde undercut ,that was now apparently quite stylish, would rant endlessly like an excited child over the new chip and it’s applications.

“The hovers can now go faster!! yet still be safer!!”. Just what the world needed. Robert soon learned how true the “faster” statement was. His poor Futura would rock violently from side to side as the pockets of air created by the endless flux of high speed traffic jolted it viciously. Officials said “ground cars” might not be safe anymore. A faze out program had begun, giving all “ground car” owners three months to “modernize their vehicles.”

On lunch break Robert sat alone in the company canteen drowning his sorrows with cups of coffee and sly swigs from a hip flask. His head slumped down in defeat. Tonight would be the last night he would drive his beloved 1996 Subaru Futura. He thought of all the good times they had had together. Way back when he was only twenty two he and his friends had been in a dodgy garage punk band, the futura had driven them to all of their few shows, they had even taken band photos with them standing against it.

He’d bought the car when it was only two years old and had had it since, he’d probably spent more money on it than anything else in his entire life.

Someone walked into the canteen but Robert didn’t look up, knowing his luck it would probably be Tye Davidson himself. “Hey Robert are you ok?” he looked up into the bespeckled face of Peter. “No Pete, I can’t drive my car anymore” he said in a depressed sighing tone.
“Yeah that chip has been standardised, so no luck for us traditionalists hey”
Robert looked up quickly “I didn’t know you had a car?”
“ Yep a 1999 Volkswagen Bug, lime green” he said quite proud.
“Never get to drive that again”
Peter began to leave the room then turned “hey Rob you think Tye invented that chip himself?”
“No way”
“That’s really bad you know, that means no-one knows if it has integrity, it could have all sorts of flaws or bugs.” Peter said as he departed from the room.
That nights drive home down the small and dinky yellow lane was a quiet and solitary time, or as quiet as it could be with god awful hovercrafts streaming by at two hundred and seventy five kilometres an hour.

The alarm screamed in Roberts ear. He slapped at it angrily. How could he face work today without his trusty Subaru. He didn’t want to have to que up at the train station with a company T-card in hand or “modernise his vehicle” even if he could afford to.

Come to think of it he didn’t think he would want to face work ever again. Screw them all, “Chipco” and those hover owning pratts. Robert got dressed and strode with purpose and grace towards the carport, keys slid into locks, turning with ease. The Subaru Futura Started with an angry purr. Small red stones of scoria crunched and popped as the car reversed fast out onto the road and into the yellow lane.

Robert slammed his foot to the floor, if this was his last drive it would be good. He wouldn’t take the looks through the tinted glass. He glanced over to the massive six lane of hover traffic and began to laugh. The glittering metal monsters had all come to a stop. Bumper to massive armoured bumper, grid locked. Revealing in almost pornographic detail just how hideous, malformed and just plain ugly they were. Maybe that’s why the drivers keep them moving so fast all the time.

The Futura took off screaming past all the dead traffic, Robert was smiling widely as his tormentors looked on in awe. He was the only moving thing for miles and they knew it, trapped in the cushy confines of their now brain dead smart cars unable to even command them to open the hatch.

Robert and his Futura swung into the “Chipco” car park and turned fast around the corner. The tyres screeched to a stop. Lying across the ground car space amid a cloud of dust, broken cinder bricks and smoke was the now destroyed body of a rust coloured hover. It’s front half protruded through the far wall whilst the torn and blistered air cushion that was now quietly burning could be found at the end of the isle.

The blonde head of Tye Davidson slowly emerged from the crumpled hatch, hair strewn everywhere and for quiet possible first time in his life a flustered look on his face. He looked at Robert.
“Are you going to help me or just stand there like a moron?” he yelled
Robert smiled “Hey Tye?”
“What?” Tye said angrily
“Try get your modern piece of shit to pull this” he got into his midnight blue 1996 Subaru Futura and drove away.

small town quicksand

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 12:21:00 +0000

this is a song i do

I'm from a small town famous for teen piss wrecks, kids pushing prams and living on dole cheques. My old school captain works at best and less. You gotta move fast or rot with the rest. Ballarat isn’t for living it's just for growing up, stay living with mum, you get stuck in the rut. Every time I come back on mother’s day, everyone’s the same only the buildings have changed.

Sitting at my mums I’m flipping cable channels, I feel like a gun that just run out of ammo. No purpose now, just dead weight in your hand. I gotta get back to Melbourne and get back to the plan. My plan wasn't to watch will and grace all day. My plan wasn't to flush my life down the drain. But when I come back and spend a few days, that’s time that’s lost, that’s just pissed away.

Small towns are quick sand - it's slowly dragging you underneath.
Small towns are quick sand - it won't let you breath.

I'm from a small town called comfortability, where kids grown up but never seem to leave. Stay with ducted heating and home cooked meals. Never risk anything to live a life that’s real. Boring people pay board, real people pay rent, 23 years old and you haven't left home yet. Parents still tell you what to do, you can't bring a girl home, cause they'd hear that too. You have an arts degree you never seem to use, except when playing trivial pursuit. Spent fours years of life just studying to decide that’s not the field you want to be in.

Small towns are quicksand - filled with young dads and teen mums
Small towns are quicksand - if they'd left sooner, they might be someone

weirdo kids running shit

noreply@blogger.com (rockethuman) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 12:14:00 +0000

My dad likes to tease me now when I talk about money and starting ethical businesses. ‘The punk has turned into a capitalist’ he says, I like it though cause I have a sneaking feeling he’d be disappointed if I stopped ranting and raving about changing the world.

In the various music scenes you can always find a person who is a total diehard fan of a certain band, but once that band hits mainstream popularity, they get sick of them. It’s as if we have been outcasts and different for so long that we cling to it. Not wanting to ‘join the herd’ but to remain one of the enlightened few.

We might never think of it consciously but it’s true enough. We are drawn in because we are different from the other kids and people and the counter-culture and sub-cultures offer us a community, strength to be different. So when the mainstream that rejected us comes clawing at what we have helped create, we get pissed off.

That is the purpose of a counter-culture though. Some people realise that they don’t agree with the models and ideas of mainstream culture, so they remove themselves from it and build up their own ideas. More and more people are drawn to these communities, building better ideas and more humane structures. Until eventually we eclipse the old mainstream culture and become ourselves the dominant one.

There is little point in realising society is fucked up and peoples lives are being destroyed, then simply exiling yourself to a mohawked hermitage, mumbling that you don’t have the answers or the right to tell people what to believe. The governments and corporations have much less scruples and morals than you do, and right now they are calling the shots.

People seem to be waiting for permission to change the world. No one gave the capitalists permission to overtake the world and no-one from their world is going to give us permission to fight them. But fight them we must, with our weapons and their own.

Sometimes I talk to the anarchists and the socialists, and while I like a lot of their ideas I don’t believe in either of their final goals. I like Australia and I like the way I live, more than a new governmental system we just need to build up around the old one. With an active population and a counter-culture that is confident and not self-sabotaging , we can rescue thousands of lives from misery.

The average person is not a sheep or hard hearted, they are just preoccupied. In Naomi Kleins book ‘No Logo’ she spoke about talking to classes of high school kids and getting the tags from their clothes and showing on a map where it was produced and under what conditions. The kids were suitably shocked and asked ‘what brands aren’t made in sweatshops?’ she was forced to reply that almost everything you could buy in a mall was made this way.

This is not good. Not many people have the time to track down non-slave wage clothes. Even people who are militantly against sweatshops would own some clothes made in them, it’s practically unavoidable. Then if you’re a vegan, that’s more hours out of your life to check all the ingredients in the food you eat. Environmentally friendly? Not tested on animals? Genetically modified? There is not enough time in the day to do the right thing, right now. So a lot of people will agree with your politics but they will say ‘it’s just to big a hassle to care’ and right now it is.

This is the reason we must start businesses that are full in all the ways the current ones are empty. If Naomi Klein could turn to that room full of kids and say ‘well, there is this company, that make this stuff, and this company that does this stuff’ people would support them. We must make doing the right thing as convenient and cost effective as doing the wrong thing. Then people will have no choice but to make an ethical and moral decision.

In Germany for instance 9 out of 10 consumers say that they are against battery cages for hens, yet only 3 out of 10 actually buy the non-battery alternative. Why? The reason is the 20% price difference, if they were the same price battery farms in Germany would have no choice than to bend to the vote of the consumer dollar.

A business person like Phillip Knight of Nike, lives and breathes for his company. His cause. He has made the oppression of his fellow man into a lucrative day job. Most activists on the other hand are still working shitty day jobs to pay their rent, and are left trying to save the world on the weekend. So political struggle becomes more like a hobby than a life.

There are many fair ways to make rent and money while fighting for a valid cause. This is not selling out, it’s smart. If you do a zine, have you ever thought about trying to turn it into a proper publication that is widely available? why not? I think the thing most of us hate about glossy magazines is the terrible content, we are all aware that they are very potent weapons in pushing a viewpoint. If you are against sweatshops have you thought about starting a political and ethical clothing line? There are plenty of people, including myself, who would love to be able to walk into a cool shop and not have to worry about where it all comes from.

Enough of the self-sabotage ‘they sold out’, enough of mindless slogans like ‘eat the rich’ and ‘smash the state’. Sitting in your lounge pissing and moaning about ‘the man’ and all the bad things out in the world achieves nothing unless you are ready to build an alternative and actually fight against them.
The reason humanist politics are disrespected and people laugh when they see images of protesters getting beaten by the police is because we are not succeeding. They don’t laugh that business people spend their whole lives worrying about marketing shoes, even though it’s so petty, because they are winning.

Everyone has noticed the way the mainstream fashion/music/media (a.k.a pop culture) industries co-opt movements and sub-cultures and reduce them to a multi-million dollar fads. This is because they have absolutely no ideas of their own. We are, as individuals and as a whole, much more creative and inventive. It’s time that we steal a few techniques from big business, as they do from us. Simply we must take what we do seriously.

One good example of what I’m talking about is a punk music magazine called ‘Beanz Baxter’. It’s fantasic because it is in the new agent racks next to Spin and juice, looking just as good, only $ 3.30 and it is still the same good quality local punk zine it has always been.
If you’re in a band I know that you all sit around, like we do too, and talk about shows and record deals and getting more well known. About being able to do it full time, as your life. You know what your idea are and they are good, so what’s stopping you? If you are talking about a doing a full length, then take the plunge and bring it out. If you are talking about a tour, book it. ‘The man’ is a myth, there is only fear and a feeling of inadequacy that has been instilled in us to hold us back. But the threat is hollow.

I know that we think we are just weirdo kids and no more fit to lead the charge than anyone. But we are a better alternative to the current corporate arseholes. So until someone better comes along, it is our fight. Self –confidence and organization are weapons. Arm yourself.