I’m a large toothful lizard living in Australia, and I spend my days dissecting and examining vast reams of information, when I’m not making space great again or hunting small mammals among the vegetation.
My views tend towards the socially libertarian, the economically left-of-centre, and land heavily in the overall pragmatic field; I have a strict “evidence, or GTFO” attitude towards most claims, and think Deng Xiaoping was on the right track when he said “It does not matter if the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice”.
Maybe this will help:
I was a member of the Australian Labor Party for about five minutes several years ago, an adventure that had more to do with a particularly good-looking young member of the local branch than any political views (it ended in me eating my feelings when I found out he was straight, for the record). Beyond that I have never been a member of, or worked for, a political party.
I think we should leave God out of it; it’s just not helpful, and then everyone’s yelling at each other and I’ve got a headache. Besides, I never liked him.
I have the view that we shouldn’t treat things like sexual harassment with any less gravity on the basis of the victim’s sex, sexual orientation, or gender expression or identity. I think women and ethnic minorities should be allowed to pick whatever study areas and careers that most interest them – even if that leads them to being paid less than other groups because they choose underwater basket weaving instead of petrochemical engineering. I agree with my grandmother – the phrase “people of colour” is the coward’s way of saying “coloured person” and because it lumps everyone who isn’t white into a single monolithic group, it’s inherently racist. I also maintain the position that the burden of proof falls on whoever makes a positive claim. In what some people are pleased to call their minds, this all means I’m a terrible person.
Unsurprisingly, I loathe identity politics.
The system of government that I approve of most is based on strange women lying in ponds and distributing swords; I would like to see more farcical aquatic ceremonies to determine supreme executive power in the body politic. Frankly, I’m starting to think it couldn’t do any worse than our current system.
When not at work, I spend most of my time just wandering around being absolutely fabulous. I’m bright enough and professional enough to keep my work separate from my blogging, and will never, ever, blog about something connected to my work. That’s just poor form.
Yes, I’m male. Yes, I identify as a man. Yes, I’m as gay as a Cher concert in San Francisco, as camp as a row of pink tents, and proud of it. Yes, like the majority of Australians, I am pale of face (despite having more nationalities perched in my family tree than is fair – and most of them loathe and massacre each other back in the Old Countries), and yet, hilariously, the pale side of the family (which despises the darker side) has an Aboriginal connection lurking it. I don’t see what any of that has to do with the merits of my arguments, and if you’ll dismiss what I have to say because of any of this, you’re an idiot. And probably taste good with tomato sauce.