The PR Blog

You've got to hand it to China. When it is attacked, it comes out with all barrels blazing. Like all bullies, it can’t stand criticism and if one of the normal kids stands up for him or herself, that bully gets down and dirty really fast.

There was a time when you could go to the teacher and tell the teacher that the bully was picking on you. But not these days. The staffroom is full of teachers who are the school bully’s biggest fans.

There is a bully in the China Shop. In fact, the Bully runs one of the only shops in town.

When you cannot object, you become an object.

As Mothers, no matter what age, we have this tendency to care, to nourish and to nurture. I do not want to have to take a vaccine against my will. I do not want to be forced to be microchipped. I do not want to mass medicated.

And I reckon most Dads feel exactly the same way. 

Back in 1977, I made the headlines in my local newspaper. I was the unidentified blonde woman who brought a local Council meeting to an abrupt conclusion. How? I disagreed with the Council’s acquisition of a water fluoridation plant on the grounds that it was mass medication – and I wasn’t having a bar of it.

Some time ago, Missy wrote about her experience at a prison in the 90’s. How some people went from friend to foe in a matter of hours.  How, once some people’s inner bully is released, it never goes back to slumber mode.

The Police around the world – not all and I stress that – have risen to this opportunity to unleash that part of their nature that enjoys subjugating their fellows and relishes an opportunity to laud power of the powerless. Where peers become victims and those that they should protect become prey.

Throughout the world, Police have been instructed to ENFORCE Social Distancing.

I live opposite a school In Queensland. This morning, the little ones aged from 5 to about 7 years old are arriving back to have their first day in the classroom for what seems to have been an eternity. I went outside to watch the Mums and Dads pulling up, dropping their little boys and girls off and I smiled. The sound of their excited chatter soon filled the air. 

Then something happened. A little girl was standing at the pedestrian crossing and while she was waiting, another little girl called out and started running towards the first one. The first girl looked up and spotted her friend running down the footpath. They squealed with delight and, as they met, they wrapped their arms around each other so tightly that it seemed they never wanted to stop. 

And I started to cry. 

My late Uncle taught me that if I was not prepared to lose it, don’t risk it. They are wise words indeed, particularly in light of what we are currently experiencing and enduring.

He was talking about a time when I went to him with a business idea. I was seeking feedback from older relatives about whether or not I should mortgage our family home in order to start a business venture. It was something I felt would be a real winner, a great idea and sure to succeed.

I had done my business plan, my projections and looked at the market need. It all looked profoundly  positive and I suppose, in retrospect I was not so much looking for feedback of a critical nature, but one that patted me on the back for having been so brilliant as to come up with this gap in the market.

I went to see my Uncle and asked for his input and opinion.