So there I was, arm hooked up to the machine, watching my plasma swirl away into a bag while the morning news dribbled across the screen like a bad fever dream. And what were they showing? A "riot" in Melbourne, allegedly. The sort of riot where the real thugs wear body armour, carry pepper spray and look like they just walked off the set of RoboCop. The people they were beating? A ragtag crew of teenagers and old hippies—probably fresh out of a drum circle, still smelling of patchouli. But sure, let's call it a riot. Now, here's where it really gets good. I mentioned this spectacle to a few people later, thinking maybe they'd share my outrage or, at the very least, give a damn. But no. What did I get instead? A smirk, a chuckle, and—oh, the pièce de résistance—"You should really just let it go." Let it go? Yeah, let me uncork a nice, overpriced cup of coffee, sit back with my legs crossed, and soak in the latest reality TV trash. Why bother caring when ...
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There is a discussion in Germany now if your child, in this age, should play naked on the beach. Ten years ago it was normal or without any discussion. It is more anusual now, but you will see it.
I'm talking about a public area on a lake or the sea with other people.
It seems to me profoundly stupid to give children the message that there is something to be ashamed or wrong about being naked. They’ll have the rest of their lives to hate their bodies, there seems no need to spoil the fun they have right now.
Roddy, they both love a bit of nude time. I suspect Ezra is a nudist right to his very core…