Being politically incorrect

Monday, February 3, 2014 Permalink

Let’s take a moment to talk about sharks.

Firstly… you should know, I hate them. Like REALLY REALLY hate them. Indeed… I’m shark phobic and I’m almost too scared to admit that cos I’m sure I once read a novel where the psychopathic killer taunted his victims with things they most feared.

I’ve talked about it before but I’m not sure when the HUGE dislike began. I read the book Jaws at a very young age. We used to holiday on Fraser Island with my relations – where I happily swam in the ocean and so forth until one day I recall finding the novel Jaws amidst my step-grandmother’s Mills & Boons and so I read it #asyoudo. I suspect I was WAY TOO young to read such fodder for I spent the entire barge trip back to the mainland watching the ocean in dread… for some super-scary creature to arise from the waters and engulf the barge and its dozen vehicles whole.

I’m sharing this because I’ve been struggling with something.

I consider myself a fairly evolved sort of human being. I don’t get racism, sexism, or homophobes. I couldn’t care what religion anyone is, or if they have none at all. And I have no problem in admitting… I’m pro-choice when it comes to people’s lives and their bodies.

That’s not to say I don’t occasionally pick myself up having COMPLETELY unjustified thoughts. I do. I’m prepared to admit it. But I’ve been a foreigner in another country doing all the things people complain about foreigners here doing. Indeed, I’ve never been more Australian and patriotic than when I lived overseas. I clung to any reminders of home (even other English speakers) like they were my lifeline.

So it seems I’m not perfect (yes, I know… you’re aghast!). And it gets worse…  because I’m even less politically correct when it comes to the West Australian shark cull.



Logically I know it’s wrong to kill creatures who haven’t ‘necessarily’ harmed us. And even if they had (I’m anti capital punishment) the ‘eye for an eye’ justification doesn’t sit well with me.

I see pics of dolphins being slaughtered and the whaling industry, or hunters in Africa posing proudly next to elephant carcasses and I’m horrified.

However…. ummm… Mostly when it comes to sharks I’m like… ‘Kill the fuckers!’

I know, I know… it’s wrong and I’m sorry. Kinda. I know that shark-related deaths are rare. But, it’s just that they’re so revolting and scary. Like snakes. I can’t even listen to the Jaws music without freaking out. Movies like Jaws x 3,  Deep Blue Sea and Open Water have scarred me for life and have a lot to answer for.

Perhaps if there were movies about killer elephants or killer kittens I’d be just as prejudiced against them. But… in the meantime, I just have to admit that I won’t be sharing people’s outrage when it comes to sharks. I know I should, but I just can’t. Sorry.

Do you sometimes feel strongly (or not) about something even if you know you should or shouldn’t? 

PS. I’m so shark phobic I couldn’t even look through images of real sharks to find a pic for this post!

Feel the fear…

Saturday, March 3, 2012 Permalink

It’s rare that one can undertake a google search for something… only to find that it doesn’t exist. But today I did just that. Here I am trying to be all honest and knowledgable and stuff but I’m stymied by the dastardly World Wide Web.
the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth
In searching the internet however, I discovered that there are some very fucked-up people out there. I mean, did you know there are words for: a fear of lockjaw or tetanus (Tetanophobia) or a fear of chopsticks (Consecotaleophobia). I mean, a fear of tyrants (Tyrannophobia) seems quite sensible; however a fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth (Arachibutyrophobia) is just downright loopy.

Given this amazing site,* listed every phobia imaginable and a gazillion more, I was shocked that what I was searching for wasn’t there. I mean, I know I’m strange but surely I’m not THAT weird. However, after much research… what I wanted wasn’t to be found.

I’ve decided you see, that my ‘condition’ MUST be a phobia. After all, it’s not normal. I’m sure.  And by finding others with a similar ailment will surely offer me some sort of reassurance or validation. But it wasn’t to be. And it all started with this:

[blackbirdpie id="175490647732666368"]

Yes Sir-ee, I’m talking about my fear or dread of going grocery shopping. Weeks go by when I cannot literally force myself to go into a grocery store. Back when I was eating a whole heap of crap I had added motivation as there were caramello koalas or corn chips waiting for me at the end of that grocery-shopping rainbow. But now, nothing but an empty fridge (or toilet roll holders) can force me to drive the 5 minutes down the road where I have a choice of our country’s TWO big supermarkets.

I’d like to think that my antipathy has something to do with the fact that I’m eating healthily and worry I’d be tempted by ill-placed chocolates; or chip aisles calling my name.

But seriously, most days this week I have ‘intended’ to take myself off to the grocery store after work in the evening. And each night – I put it off. Once upon a time I shopped regularly. But not recently (so thank god I am single and childless!). Most successful have been my forays into online grocery shopping, but the difficulty I face is that the company I use doesn’t have everything I need. I need to visit both big supermarkets to buy EVERYTHING on my list. (Yes, yes, I know… if this was Twitter there’d be a #firstworldproblem hashtag there! And… I should know better, after my years of living in developing countries. But…)

While googling for information I read of others admitting they don’t like grocery shopping – something to do with strangers speaking to them, or spending money and the like. That is NOT my problem. I’m happy to talk to anyone. And I LOVE spending money.

It’s really only the ‘idea’ of grocery shopping that I hate. The notion of HAVING to go.

And last night I finally forced myself to go. I mean, I HAD to as I was out of girlie products AND needed toilet paper. The essentials. (Oh, and eggs, meat and lots of other things!)

Although I didn’t get everything on my list (I refuse to do anything other than a basket-shop and WILL NOT use a trolley as am way too impatient for that) I was quite chuffed that I made the effort. And, in reality, including the drive to and fro – and quick foray into the bottle shop – the whole adventure took me 20 minutes. And let’s face it, 20 minutes out of my day is NOTHING!


I had hoped that – having not gone for a couple of weeks – it might break the ice (like when they make shark phobics jump into shark-infested waters!), but alas no. My ‘to-do’ list included a visit to the other supermarket this morning and I wasn’t able to force myself into my fabulous little beast for the 5 minute drive. But, maybe this afternoon….

Please tell me that it isn’t just me; that others are stymied by the necessity to grocery-shop. I mean, I know that there doesn’t seem to be a bloody word for it, but it CAN’T be just me. Surely. Please! Anyone?

*Cos it’s so entertaining to poke fun at others’ phobias… here’s a few more:
Porphyrophobia- Fear of the color purple.
Ouranophobia or Uranophobia- Fear of heaven.
Oenophobia- Fear of wines.
Myxophobia- Fear of slime. (Blennophobia)
Levophobia- Fear of things to the left side of the body.
Bogyphobia- Fear of bogeys or the bogeyman.
Kyphophobia- Fear of stooping.
Hobophobia- Fear of bums or beggars.
Defecaloesiophobia- Fear of painful bowels movements.
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- Fear of the number 666.
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia- Fear of long words.