You previously requested not to be invited to events where Piprell (or Fengler) was present, so no invite was extended for Dorsey's birthday gathering. I thought that might have been the cause of misunderstanding.
Again, no idea what I said or did. It's a strange year 2020.
5555555555555 ... Why ever would I make it up? To what possible purpose? Your moods are like a yo-yo. I never mentioned your overdoing diet pills; you did, several times. Maybe amnesia is another side-effect.
On the occasion I refer to, I recommended you increase your lithium, after the outburst. I wasn't being ironic. I also suggested you seek professional help. All forgotten?
You also once publicly accused me, out of the blue, on FB, of asking you for money from the books (totally untrue) which prompted Californian ankle-biter Montalbano to pile in and rebuke me for feelings of "entitlement". What a joke. Remember that one? No apology there either. I let it go that time.
Grovelling (your word) is repellant, who needs it? Honesty is more difficult, and you're in denial, "as we used to say".
'The ball's in my court'. Haha, thanks. What a pompous ass you sound.
I'll remember your sociable moments, and wish you better health.
The fog shrouded the city of Betong, a former Malaysian communist strong hold, in the deep south of Thailand, bordering Malaysia.
With the end of Ramadan near, some people are saying keep away from rural areas where insurgents are active. Others are saying avoid Yala, “they are shooters down there.” The military beef up is another angle of the equation. And the silent insurgent, never seen, only heard of in the papers. The day I caught a train from Hat Yai to Yala, a bomb went off in Pattani. That explained the military on the train.
After a week in Hat Yai, I was going stir crazy. It use to be a swinging city, but many of the working girls have gone south, on the Malay side, looking for customers, said one driver I met outside the train station.
A Chinese Thai lady serves me some noodles. She’s on the phone, explaining she doesn’t want to cater for the train station. She has lost 10 000 baht already, in the past year. “They order the food, but never pay for it.” She gives me a generous portion. I tell her I’m going to Kalok . I had already bought the ticket. Don’t go there, she says, "they kill each other...."
She said here in Hat Yai, no one has money. Only yesterday she heard two Malaysians complain about being double charged for noodles. Hat Yai has that double charge feel about it, and no matter how much you bargain, they give you the Malaysian price. The problem is that there are fewer tourists, and the Malaysians aren’t coming to Thailand. “Even they are scared of the bombs,” says the soup seller.
Stay away from the soldiers and police, said the driver parked outside of the train station. He and his mate were genuinely interested in chatting. He said government officials were usually the ones targeted.
Motor bikes were being secured with rope on the last carriage. I mentioned something about the seats being checked for bombs ,but the train staff didn’t hear me. A guy sitting behind me on the train is talking to himself. I was caught doing it the other day. A soldier gets on, and places his weapon and flack jacket on his seat, like the other soldiers who got on a few train stations earlier. They seem pretty comfortable on the train, and use the traveling as down time. Another guy, late 50’s , won’t tell me where he’s going. He starts up a one way conversation.
He says it isn’t good to sunbathe naked on the beach. The guy behind me says foreigners like to get a tan without their clothes on. Another guy from Songkla is laughing. His mother is sitting next to him, and she seems quite shocked about the talk of taking your clothes off. She's wearing a Muslim head scarf. I try and put a bit of distance between myself and him. I lip sync to the guy from Songkla that the man opposite me is crazy man. He laughs again. It seems a nervous laugh. Maybe he read the Bangkok Post today.
The guy who was quite chatty about being naked has shut up since the military got on. He occasionally pulls out a love heart mirror to groom himself.
CCTV cameras at every train station. The Deep South is high-tech, what's next, fences? Punji sticks, facing outwards, reinforce army barracks with wire fences. It looks like something from Vietnam period, of strategic hamlets. The only ones being isolated are the military who are continual targets of the insurgents. Those ubiquitous sand bangs are becoming common place.
When the military got off at Yala, they went from relax mode to high alert.
I followed them.
There was a drive by shooting only last week. A woman was slain on the street. For that reason, I really had reservations about Yala - but not enough to not get off. I asked one of the soldiers where could I get a good hotel. He seemed green, and had other things to worry about. Outside, a sea of Muslims, in colorful garb. It was like being back in Indonesia. I had found my comfort zone.
A local Muslim man told me where a hotel was, and how to get to Betong, where I’d be heading tomorrow. He shaked my hand and touched his chest, like all polite Muslims do.
"There was a bomb in Pattani today, " said one of the hotel staff. He said no one died, so it didn't seem serious in his eyes. Then he says if I want a massage, he can arrange it. Down stairs in the hotel is a karaoke bar and a massage parlor. And across the street are pubs. And the local 7-11 is a beehive of dedicated shoppers, including myself. Recently five 7- Elevens were targeted in Pattani, and other locations,by insurgents, with 3 killed and more than 50 people injured.
People who are use to oppression and living under the yoke of daily violence, will still continue shopping at 7-11. The female staff wear white head scarfs, and the idea that it could be a target, are one of the prevalent risks of living in the Deep South.
At bus station, the ticket seller is wearing a shirt, asking “Where Did Democracy Go?” referring to the May 5th crack down of the Red Shirts in Bangkok. The mini bus eventually leaves. Most of the mini buses are heading to Hat Yai, and no one is lining up to go to Betong. Not far out-of-town, the driver puts on some music. It’s a sad song about the bombs going off in the night, later into the trip, another song espousing the virtues of sobriety, "drink tea better."
At a check point, a motor cyclist is pulled over. A soldier lifts up his seat looking for explosives. Then he's on his way. We pass him, and the mini bus driver beeps his horn. It's recognition of their solidarity, they might be burdened with these security measures but they bear them well. I lost count of the check points, soldiers looking bored, and burrowing in tight behind barbed wire and camouflages.
All the way from Yala to Betong were signs of local Imans and reminders of Ramadan. Even one sign in English said to have a safe Ramadan. On the surface, it seemed like there was some bizarre sign war fair going on. The bus drops off one Buddist, who is going to a temple. He seems very jittery. The temple is protected by the military. Then the bus driver drops off another Thai and her daughter at a local school which has a soldier guarding it at the gate.
Betong is the most southerly town in Thailand. Not entirely true, still another 7 kilometers to the Malay boarder. A copper pegged me as journalist. He was drinking beers and out of uniform. He shows me his I.D card, yes he's a copper. Then he's on the phone to his boss. He wants to take me to see the hot springs and the caves where the communist insurgents hid from the Malaysian government.
All I have to do is put in 100 baht of petrol. Now that's ripe. He's pissed and then looks through my camera for any dodgy photos. He asks me if I'm staying at a hotel I took a picture of. I tell him anything he wants to hear, and eventually get away from him. He says he'll help me write a story if I promote Thailand. If I don't... I didn't want to hold his stare. He needs to get laid and I'm out of here to find a hotel.
Betong is a quiet place. The hotel I'm staying at has a sign that says customers who use condoms are only welcome. You can walk the streets and rarely see any armed soldiers. It's in Yala province, but closer to the border. Here the province takes a calmer turn. The only sign of insurgents, are the Malay communists, who are from another era, and are showcased as a tourist attraction.
Rule number one in this Thai monkey town: lock up your cars and close your windows. A clan of monkeys is causing mayhem to a truck parked on the grounds of a 10th-century Khmer Pra Prang Sam Yot shrine. One monkey twists off a side mirror, and tosses it on the ground with simian angst. While another monkey is polishing off the dregs of a Red Bull, before smashing it through the windscreen.
These naughty long-tailed macaques are a few of the 1000-urban dwelling monkeys that that live at Lopburi, 150km north of Bangkok, a former capital of Siam. And they are the guests of a bizarre buffet which is both a brief and a frenzied affair that would even have the Mad Hatter's head spinning by all the monkey business going on.
Inhabited since the Dvaravati period (6th to 11th Century), Lopburi's history span's over 12 hundred years. The old section of Lopburi is studded with ruins from the Khmer empire and a 17th-century palace.
Locals ambivalently see the monkeys both as godsends and miscreants. As the legend goes, it's believed that the animals are incarnate of Hanuman, the Monkey God of the Indian Ramayana who is believed to reside at the two picturesque Khmer ruin of Sam Prang Yod and the nearby shrine of San Pra Kan, known as monkey HQ.
To give you an idea of how revered they are, monks perform Buddhist funeral ceremony rites for the deceased monkeys where their ashes are buried in urns at the monkey graveyard in the nearby Lopburi Zoo.
Today, over 2000 foreign and Thai tourists have turned up in droves to witness a trumped up version of the Teddy Bear's Picnic - a shameless nosh-up for the resident monkeys who will consume over 2,000kg of fruits and vegetables.
Traditionally held on the last Sunday of November, the monkeys perform hi-jinks of sorts at a 'tea party' that volunteers have arranged in their honor - paying their respect to the monkeys who have been instrumental in generating tourism for this town.
It would be easy to believe that the city was built for them. All the power lines are protected with blue PVC piping to prevent any unwanted electrocutions and bad press. And the antennas of houses surrounding the city's shrine are also fitted with foil to prevent the monkeys from disturbing the residents TV viewing.
There's no doubt, however, that for the business community, these monkeys translate as a cash cow. For the 17th Monkey Party, Lopburi Inns hotelier, Yongyuth Kijwattananuson, who started the festival back in 1989, informs the press that this year , "there will be over three tones of food, prepared by six chefs, served by 30 food bearers, and 25 traditional Thai dancers."
His karma abiding outlook towards the city-slicker monkeys has not only brought fame to the town, but a lot of merit for Yongyuth, whose logo of his Lopburi Inn is, coincidently, a monkey. "As Buddhists, we believe we must show compassion to everyone," he explains, as he points at the monkeys behind him that are licking blocks of ice containing fruit and vegetables. "If we take care of the monkeys, good luck and prosperity will be returned by our merit making."
Giant ice bars containing fruit and vegetables are placed around 10-th century Khmer temple of Sam Prang Yod like a mini Stone Hedge. This is the entrée to the main event, and novel to this year's festival. The crab eating monkeys are licking at the ice slabs curiously, while tourists snap away at this bizarre sight.
The red-skirted tables are laden with fruit platters - Thai sweets, confectionaries, and cans of Coca Cola - that are placed around the three pronged temple. The organizer announces over the speakers that the 17th Monkey Party, sponsored by Coca Cola and the Lopburi Inn, has begun.
A few timid monkeys scuttle over the ancient ruins towards the banquet. It's a dismal attendance. Because of the presence of thousands of tourists, loud speakers, and the media with their telescopic lenses, this year many of guests of honor have boycotted the event.
The only thing missing are waiters in bow ties, but I suppose that gimmick will be exploited next year. Previous years, this festival was heavy on nutritious food - pineapple, bananas, papaya, and other tropical fruits. But this year, processed foods seem to be the flavor
The monkeys, however, have not disappointed the throngs of tourists today. It's only five minutes into the feast, and it's now not a pretty sight. Two monkeys are copulating on one table. While on another, there's an all out brawl by a mad mob of monkeys who are fighting over a Coke. Peace is restored when the staff places a new round of drinks on the table.
What's most striking about the displays of these primate, says Warren Reinhart, 22, a Canadian tourist is their uncanny resemblance to their closet relatives. "It was difficult to discern the monkey's from the tourists," he says. "Not only were the monkey's throwing garbage all over the place, but it also set the tone for the tourists who were littering with abandon."
But these are the rights of deities, and don't the monkeys of Lopburi know it?
On any given day, tourists can be seen gawking at monkeys swinging across power lines, hanging off shop eaves, and generally, loitering on street corners in gangs, waiting for any unsuspecting tourist.
A new victim, a middle aged Thai tourist, walks across the road, carrying her grocery bags. She must be a day-tripper and totally unaware of what's about to happen. Like a well orchestrated maneuver, the male of a gang of five monkeys quickly lunge at her. Then the others follow the leader's cue. Eggs, fruit and cakes sprawl onto the pavement. Before she knows what's happened, the marauding monkeys have fled with their loot.
A block away from Sam Prang Yod shrine, old lady sets up her stall in the market - bamboo sticks and sling shots accompanied with bags of stones. She tells me that only last week a local had her bag stolen by a monkey who got away with three credit cards and 5000 baht ($130).
This is the side of Lopburi that doesn't get too much news coverage. She says that there is a demand for her merchandise. "Mostly from food vendors who set up shop near the tourist temples," she explains. "They are sick of the monkeys terrorizing their stalls."
If only Dave Squires, 42, an American tourist, had wondered across these monkey wares a block away. Instead, he got a souvenir of the town that he could have done with out. He says a pack of monkey's jumped him. "The male, the head of this clan, just bit into my shoulder." He had to have a tetanus shot.
"It's one thing to look at them through bars at a zoo - admiring them safely from the other side," adds the English teacher, who has been working at a secondary school in Lopburi for the past year. "But it's another thing to be amongst them - face to face. These are the dangers of being in close proximity to wild animals."
It's late afternoon, and the festival is winding down. It's now business as usual.
Rubbish is strewn over the temple grounds, and the VIP's have apparently pissed off to the Lopburi Inn for a few congratulatory rounds of Monkey Beer, that is brewed on the premises.
A temple boy, who calls himself Pornchai, offers to chaperone me around the temple for a modest fee of 100 baht (A$3.00), for what he says "a hassle free tour of the temples." And now I see his point. As a horde of monkeys advance, eyeing off my Coke I'm holding - I've already had one can snatched from me today - . Pornchai aims his slingshot at the leader of the clan who is now shrieking and retreating.
"Keeps them alert," he says, without any trace of embarrassment. "Lets them know who is boss."
The early morning sun rise reflects off the craggy limestone mountains in a riot of colours, as a
western monk in flowing robes cuts through this oriental postcard of golden pagodas and an array
of Buddhist statues. In the distance explosions from the nearby rock quarry can be heard piercing
this serene landscape.
Covering over 784 acres, this working temple has been home for addicts since 1959. And Phra
(Thai for monk) Greg , a former heroine addict from England, is one of the 100’s of thousands
of patients who have passed though the temple’s outreach rehab centre to purge their demons.
Blaring over the temple’s speakers is Peter Schelly’s Love me Love my Dog which is carrying
across the verdant grounds while the western monk is mindfully strolling down a dusty road to
the temple’s herbal garden, where he collect fresh herbs daily for the sauna that he operates.
“Freedom is a dusty road heading to a highway…” wails Peter, as the traffic from the nearby
highway ahead compete with the Golden Oldies of Wat Tamkrabok.
On the way back to the sauna with his herbal quota of lemon grass and morning glory, the foreign
monk passes a raised platform that’s a testament to a dream of the abbot and founder of this
temple, Luangpaw Charoen. Towering above a platform is the personification of his somewhat
eccentric vision: a Dharma Wheel, representing the cycles of life, forged from molten stone,
surrounded by obelisks and other half complete visions of Buddha at different stages of his life.
Everything about this temple is surreal. It seems to thrive on unorthodoxy.
And for Phra Greg, it’s a far cry from two years ago, when the smack addict of 12-years was
legging it down a high street, being chased by store detectives, to feed his hundred pounds a day
habit. It was an extreme set of circumstances and a prophetic dream that brought Brother Greg to the
other side of the world to this way-station temple of Wat Tamkrabok, which means the “cave of
those with something to say”. Situated in Saraburi province, 120 kilometres north of Bangkok,
substance abusers here are administered herbal concoctions and Buddhist ministrations to kick
their addictions.
Phra Greg Gert, 51, is in all senses of the word a success story. For many drug addicts like this
former patient who were too far gone, this is their last resort. Oddly enough, while battling a 12
year addiction, the soft spoken Brit always knew that he would be monk. “It began when I was about 16 years old,” recalls the former electrician from Reading who grew up Surrey. “I had this dream that I was a monk in this eastern dress. And we were going into a forest collecting plants, and going into caves, collecting minerals and herbs.”
When Phra Greg, who’s adopted Thai surname – Gert – (means the ‘one who is reborn’), arrived
at the temple’s gates back in early 2005, he says it was like déjà vu. “I got out of the minibus,
looked around, and said, ‘This is the place.’ It felt right,” says Phra Greg, who has renounced his
past life for the spiritual cloisters of this Thai monastery.
For many former addicts like Greg, this is the Q train- the end of the line for addicts who tried
every treatment in the west to no avail. And understandably many addicts, who finish the 28- day
treatment, usually return the favour by donning robes. There are not many foreigners who come to Thailand to get spiritually enlightened who come from a troubled back ground of excessive drug taking. But here at Wat Tamkrabok, this temple is an exception to the rule, where many of the foreign patients decide to ordain, joining the 120 monks that make up this temple commune.
Half the Thai monks, who were former addicts themselves, encourage western patients to unwind
after the treatment in robes, to forge their ‘sattja’, a holy vow to abstain from narcotics and
alcohol, into a powerful tool for staying clean for the rest of their lives.
Currently there are five western monks, consisting of two Brits, one Swiss, a Belgian, and an
American, Phra Gordon who runs the other herbal steam bath. Gordon Baltimore, a former mercenary from Harlem, is a larger than life character. As the story goes, he arrived at the temple 26 years ago when the bus he was travelling on got punctures on all four of its tires. “And when he got out of the bus the abbot was waiting for him at the temple gates,” explains Phra Greg, who doesn’t mind cultivating the many myths surrounding this temple. “And the abbot supposedly said, 'I've been waiting for you!'
And Gordon still says to this day, that this is just a bus stop!”
It wasn’t only mercenaries on waylaid buses that stumbled on this temple. In the 60’s Hippies
found this unorthodox temple and word soon spread in the west of the outreach program at Wat
Tamkrabok. One of the staples of treatment is a dark herbal medicine that is brewed up in big
vats by the local medicine men. Consisting of over 108 herbs, minerals, and barks, and minerals
from the caves, patients are expected to vomit this purgative herbal blend for the first five days
of their treatment.
Patients here are encouraged to feel the pain, while imbibing an herbal cocktail that accelerates
the body's purification through vomiting and eases the symptoms of withdrawal. The emphasis is
put on living the horror of withdrawal, purging out the demons that had lured them to addiction in
the first place.
Many of the Thai monks consider the treatment here to be the ‘journey of the hero,’ where
patients must plummet to the depths of their despair and then ‘rise above it.’ But Greg sees it
more emphatically as an epic Greek journey: Homer of the Odyssey, “it’s got to be a journey to
hell and back. Only then do we come back a bit wiser.”
It was a chance meeting in 2004 with Mike Sarson, a Berkshire-based drugs counsellor from
East West – Detox, at a Drug and Alcohol drop in centre called the Foundation, that would
facilitate Greg’s dream of coming clean and donning the robe of the order of the forest monks.
“He was stuck on the substitute medication methadone for many years going nowhere,” recalls
Sarson who through East-West Detox has sent over 18 patients from the UK since setting up the
Charity organization in 1997 – after being disillusioned with the ‘quick fix’ approach of Western
treatment. And he told me he had number of dreams over the years of becoming a monk. He truly believed he was led spiritually to East-West Detox.”Heroin addicts are faced with the harsh fact that methadone treatment isn’t effective enough.According to a recent study by Prof. McKeachney at Glasgow University, it revealed that while monitoring 800 people who were prescribed methadone over a period of 3 years, only 3% managed to abstain from methadone substitute. While an Australian study found that less than 30% of addicts studied who had been to Wat Tamkrabok went back on drugs within a year.
“All they want is people on methadone,” says Phra Greg, who casts a cynical eye over treatment
in the west. “Then they have control over you then. It's all about control and money. They make
big money on methadone while we are still slaves to our addiction.”
In contrast with the Twelve Steps program of Alcoholic’s Anonymous, where addicts are
putting responsibility for their lives in a higher force, Phra Greg believes that the approach
here at Wat Thamkrabok is more honest, putting the responsibility back to the individual.
“What most people say is that when they try the 12 steps, is that it takes too long,” explains Phra
Greg. “So why go somewhere where you keep reminding yourself that you are an addict, "Hi my
name's Greg. I'm an addict. I've been clean for seven years." If you're been clean for seven years
then you're not an addict.”
When he first arrived, he thought the place a bit primitive. “The shower is just a little hose that
comes out of the wall that’s fed from the lake,” he explains - guarding him is Silly Bitch, a grey
Thai Ridge back who is one of the 13 street dogs that he feds. “All your mod cons are taken
away, and you are stripped down to basics, and that’s where you start from and build up. “
According to Luangpor Charoen, the founder of the temple who started treating opium addicts
in 1959, the physical detoxification is only 5% of the Thamkrabok treatment. “You must do the
remaining 95% of the work in your mind and through your actions.”
“It’s all down to personal will power,” explains Phra Greg, who acts as a councillor for other
patients who check in at the Hay, the foreign living quarters, which ironically nicknamed after s
heroine. “The person that walks out of here is a completely different person that walks in. It only
works when that person is ready to give up. Nothing will work until you are actually ready to do it
yourself. You can't do it for any body else.’
He says doing ‘cold turkey’ at one of the worlds most Spartan rehabs is “the easiest cluck.
Everyone coming off heroine is waiting for the cluck to begin, but here it never happens. If it
was in the west, they’d be climbing up the wall, and going out shop lifting to get a bag of gear.”
“For every addict who checks, the monks must deal with two personalities, “adds Phra Greg,
who on many occasions is called to the Hay by senior Thai monks to reassure the doubting
patients. “First you are talking to the addict, and secondly, the person who wants to come clean,”
“Most of the time it’s easy. After five minutes I can turn them around, because the person who
wants to come off is still there. The first week here is like being on a roller coaster; it’s up and
down all the time. But after that, there are more ups than there are downs.”
On the second day of his vomiting, the Reading lad wanted out; he couldn’t stand the constant
heaving caused by the herbal liquid that is a cross between cod live oil, and the dregs of a
bong. “Just disgusting at first,” recalls Greg who, like many other patients before him, tried every
trick in the book to terminate treatment.
“I’d lie on my bed, feeling sorry for myself, saying, ‘I’m not fucking doing it’’. But I remember
hearing the patients, who had finished their five days of vomiting, encouraging me along. ‘Come
on Greg, get it done!’ And then you vomit, and feel much better. Any sickness that I was feeling
that day went as soon as I did the vomiting.”
The hardest part of the vomiting, he says, is drinking all the water. “Anyone can drink eight pints
of beer but you try to drink eight pints of water,” he explains. “When you first come here, that first
day, worried about being sick, which you associate with being not well. I always say, don’t think
about being sick. All you have to do is drink the water. Because once that water mixes with the
medicine, you don’t need to worry about being sick, because it happens automatically.”
Its late afternoon, and Dire Straits is blaring from Greg’s CD player. As the foreigner, who can’t
speak a word of Thai, throws more wood in the sauna’s boiler, he gets an unexpected visitor. It’s
Deano Barron, a former patient and friend of Phra Greg who is back on a visit with his wife.
“He was fantastic,” said Deano, 50, from Sydney, who did the 12 day detox over a year ago. He
said that Phra Greg was his mentor. “Because of what he's been through, I couldn’t have asked
for a better qualified councillor,” adds the steel constructor, who says he hasn’t taken a drink
since he took out his sattja over a year ago. “Jesus, I thought my problem is nothing compared to
his. I latched onto him because he was a real down to earth bloke.”
“Just keep the sattja strong,” advises Brother Greg, who is touched by the compliments, yet
totally humble about it. “We like success stories here,” he adds.
Deano, in all earnestness, like he’s taken a holy sattja not to lie – he truly is an established
member of the Tamkrabok family – relates one of the more legendary in-house titbits of this
temple. “There was a local Thai smack dealer from a nearby hotel,” says Deano, who speaks with
the conviction of the Gospel. “He had a kilo of smack on his bed and knew he had been tipped
off. While the police were running up the stairway, the drug dealer implored to Buddha, “If you
get me out of this shit, then I’ll be a monk for life.
“Then he climbs out the window, and enters the room next door. On the bed was a set of robes
which he put on. Then he walked down the stairs, passing the police who were on their way up
to bust him. The robed monk didn’t turn a head. He apparently kept on walking to the monastery
here where he’s been a monk ever since.”
Phra Greg, who lets out a little chuckle – an anecdote he no doubt told Deano - says that he has
never been a spiritual person. But he believes that Wat Thamkranbok changes people. “Some of
the changes here, you can only put down to spiritual. And I've never been a really spiritual sort of
person. I've seen things happen here which there isn't any physical explanation.”
Brother Greg seems to have found his vocation. Asked if he were to return to Reading,
would he relapse? Prah Greg answers like a Zen adept. “This place changes people.”
It’s true, this place does, offering hope to those who were once too far gone.
Note: A friend of mine went to the temple as a patient in 2009. He informed me of the sad news that Greg passed away. He had a heart attack. His last resting place is a little walk from the sauna he operated. He always wanted to be preserved in the Stone Balls where the venerable monks were laid to rest. I will miss you Greg. You have proved that it is possible to overcome your demons. I am not sure if this is true, it still needs to be verified through the organisation below.
Heroin: Facing the Dragon
Facing The Dragon is an intimate and shocking documentary following two desperate drug addicts on a journey from the drug addled streets of England to the toughest detox in the world.
Produced in association with East West Detox.
If you have been affected by any of the issues in this film, or would like any further information on the detox experiences featured, please contact http://www.east-westdetox.org.uk/http://www.east-westdetox.org.uk/
When did he disappear?: He and Dana Stone were apprehended on one of the highways to war, outside of Phnom Pen, Cambodia, in 1970, last seen on a red Honda. Most likely arrested by North Vietnamese soldiers.
How did he die? : Some say that he was handed over to the Khmer Rouge, and died from a lethal injection. Both Stone and Flynn were war photographers, covering the Vietnam War. Other theories is that they died a horrible death. Koch, in his book, Highway to War, writes about the main character in the book, loosely based on Neil Davis, and Australian Cameraman, and how he was caught by the Khmer Rouge, and was crucified on a cross, dying a slow painful death.
The hunt for Sean's Remains: Many of Sean's friends, including Tim Page, have not stopped looking for the burial place of Flynn and Stone. Recently Page and a doco maker found the grave of two westerners in Cambodia, the DNA was tested, but negative, one was a boat runner, another a defector from the US army.
The mystery nearly unravelled: I am in contact with a documentary maker in Cambodia, Ian White, who is doing a documentary on Tim Page who is still trying to locate the remains of Sean. Oh, Sean's half sister Flory, h as been very active in finding Sean's remains. But somewhere along the line, Tim Page was seen as a mercenary, who wanted to steal the limelight. Then Flory, care of Errol Flynn Estate, had given full powers to an Australian living in Saigon, who was previously working with Page -- they fell out when Page didn’t pay MacMillan for his investigative works.
Present: There are a few eyewitnesses, according to Ian White, who may know the whereabouts of Sean. And this is where I come into the story. I will document what has happened, and what is happening. Here is a little video Ian is doing on Tim Page, and it is brilliant. I will have access to Tim, and another interesting author, Paul Young who wrote, The Two Missing, about Sean and Stone. Young was also a photographer and published his memoirs on that tumultuous period leading up to the rule of the Khmer Rouge.
I am trying my hand at remixes. For a course I am doing here at Curtin, we needed to a mash up and remix of a text and change it around into another text. I have paid a little trbute to my mate Steve Irwin, and also wrote an essay, explaining why and how I remediated my text. Hope you enjoy it. I added in some cool tunes! I aint no DJ earth worm, but is amazing what you can do with Windows Media Maker -- a niffy tool. But on my new Mac laptop, I got I Movies, so can't wait to make up another video soon!
I chose to remediate the controversial reporting of Steve Irwin playing with his baby Bob in front of a crocodile. This was in January 2004, and we see the dramatic footage of Irwin carrying his one-month-old son, Bob, while he hand feeds Murry, a giant saltwater crocodile at his Australian Zoo.
In this essay, I will discuss copy right issues, in regards to using other people’s content, and issues that arise when working with it . I will also explore the gate keeper element of creators of content, and how they are able to tell their side story in a ‘read -write’ culture that Web 2.0 culture has facilitated. Finally, I will discuss how meaning is shifted by using multimedia content and go into detail how I shifted the meaning of the original text by using other footage and music in my re-mediated project.
Henry Jenkins says we are in “a moment of transition, where an old media is dying, and a new media is being born.” (Jenkins, 2009) This seems so true, and with mush ups and remixes on Youtube, we are seeing a coexistence of amateurs and professional content. Re-mediated works borrow on the past to create something very different. Anyone with the means of production -- mobile phones, camcorders, digital cameras, and software -- have at their finger tips very powerful tools for creative expressions which can be seen with the many tributes to Steve Irwin. In some ways, my remediation is a tribute to a man who has
changed many people’s lives with his effervescent and enthusiastic reporting on wild animals.
The boundary between text and reader has broken down, as Jenkins’ (Jenkins, 2006) argues. This project falls into the realm of fan culture, where I have ‘reconstructed’ a selected text from original piece of work, and re-mediated within the perimeters of the provided media. :
While breaking down the boundary between text and the reader, I have also broken a few copy right laws. I am an amateur remixer, and the law could come down heavy on me. However, writing in the digital age requires transformative re-mediations for new contexts. According to Lessig (2004), current copyright laws are inadequate to protect and stimulate creative works, while digital writing requires 'plagiarism‘, in some sense. But I feel my creation falls under ‘Fair Use’ , and because I have changed the meaning from the original version, this tends to justify my use of other people’s content.
The only repercussion I have experienced so far, is that my project is copyrighted out to a third party. This is acknowledged by a banner to The Killer’s album, Exitlude, and a link to I Tunes where it can be downloaded. . But I am compensated by Youtube, who still let me present my work. Though the statistics of the video cannot be made public, “because this video has been claimed by a copyright owner.”
Web 2.0 tools is a horse which has bolted out of the gates, and the old copy right culture has been replaced with a read-write culture, And blogs in the early 2000 had a lot to do with this. Rettberg (2008) says that no longer is mass communication in the hands of few producers. He adds that blogs “ support a dense network of small audiences and many producers.” The same applies with platforms like Youtube, which allows anyone to be a producer. The site even offers editing tools.
I used Microsoft Media Maker and Youtube hosted my video titled, “ He wouldn't have it any other way --Steve Irwin” I have borrowed freely from four clips from You tube and used two songs -- Train's Hay Soul Sister and The Killers' When You Were Young-- and I extracted a voice over from the movie, Ten Canoes.
A word on the two songs, by using them, my work has also crossed over to Vidding, That, however, wasn’t necessarily my intention. No doubt I chose The Killers, a band from the US, to make that US and Steve Irwin connection, where the crocodile hunter was revered and given his own program on the US network, Animal Planet.
The original clip was a report of Steve Irwin dangling his son Bob in front of a monster crock. Various people interviewed show their distaste towards Irwin. My version of the text was to draw out the hypocrisy of the media. The day of Irwin’s death, Australian news websites crashed and the former Prime Minister John Howard had said that Australia had " lost a wonderful and colourful son." (The Australian, 2006)
In Convergence Culture, Jenkin's (2006)argues that by participating in popular culture consumers “acquire skills in collaboration and knowledge sharing which may be fundamental to the future of Democratic Citizenship.” He adds that the emergence of participatory media is changing the ways people relate to broadcast media. And this remediation also shows how I borrowed from broadcast media and manipulated it to serve my own end.
To do this, I spliced in an interview of Irwin , in a more contemplative moment, where he states quite clearly what he wants to be . Only those close to him knew that Irwin was a conservation warrior,
Srinivasan (2006) argues that new media is a tool for indigenous communities that can serve “their own cultural, political and social visions “ I wanted to add an indigenous element to the remediation.
Ten Canoes. a full-length film made in Yolŋu Matha language, is set in Arnhem Land, and is a parable of “forbidden love from Australia's mythical past.” (Festival de Cannes, 2009) It is an excellent example of empowerment of indigenous communities through the use of new media tools. I decided to use the opening of the film as an anchor in my remediation with the voice over by David Gulpili who also appeared in Crocodile Dundee. This connection was purely coincidental by the way! I wanted to draw out the “love and hate” relationship between Irwin and the media. By transplanting the indigenous element into my project, I was able to create a meaningful dialogue between Irwin and the press, which at times has had a tumultuous relationship.
Drawing upon iconic Australian imagery, I used a song from Men at Work which was the official anthem for the Australian crew at the America’s cup in Perth. We all remember the brash Bob Hawk, who declared after we won the cup, a national holiday, saying: "any boss who sacks anyone for not turning up today is a bum." This is the kind of irreverence that Steve Irwin subscribed too and thus suited my purpose well here.
The headlines of the papers in my remediation show that the media gods weren't pleased with Irwin’s sacrificial lamb. Yet Irwin stuck to his principles, saying that there was no way that he jeopardised the wellbeing of his baby. He confirms this with a clip taken by Australia Zoo, adding that that he really wasn’t putting his child in danger:
“Right here...is a tape from the Australia Zoo camera which will give you another angle so all of that ugly stacked up vision of me and the crock, looking like I am endangering my child will be put to bed very quickly.”
The fact that Irwin rebuts the claims against him by the main stream media with his own digital version of the incident, implying that the media had manipulated the event by using footage that sensationalised the incident. This is a great example of how citizen journalist can empower themselves, and how Irwin acted as a gatekeeper, which at the very least allowed him to defend his view of events.
According to Axel Bruns (2005), citizen journalist doesn’t replace mainstream media, but examines, refines and filters it through gatewatching. In a sense, my remediation is a retake on the media’s version. I am a gatekeeper of sorts, and with the comments in the Youtube platform, I invite others to join in the conversation.
Lastly, I spliced an interview with Bambi, Irwin’s daughter. She is asked what does she want to be when she grows up, and replies that she wants to be like her daddy. Once again, I have shifted the focus away from the son Bob, to Bambi. I wanted to give this remediation a more human element. Not only was Irwin a crocodile hunter, he was a loving father.
There are now so many variables to a story. My version is just one of thousands that have been proliferating on Youtube about Steve Irwin. My conversation is just an extension from previous conversations. I have used the tools at my disposal, and borrowed from other digital quotes to create my version of Steve Irwin. This project proves the point that I am part of the water cooler conversation in convergence culture. And more importantly, I am an active creator in a participatory culture.
This remediation draws out elements for a collective intelligence, and how it is possible to draw upon existing media and reshape it toward a collective democratic goal, where the outcome in the story telling doesn’t stop with main stream media, but is extended and expanded upon by a media savvy public.
Twitter offers a space where people may resist oppression on a daily basis as I will demonstrate using my handle @elmotheclown while following the recent crack down of protesters in Bangkok. And though this micro-blogging tool may not overturn traditional structures of power and control, it certainly puts pressure on the powers that be.
This has been the case in Thailand, where the current Democrat government has used censorship of oppositional websites , radios and periodic banning of Twitter and Face Book, as was witnessed with the April 10 crack down where 25 people died and over a thousand people were injured against classes with the Army in Bangkok’s old district, according to The Brisbane Times. The Committe to Protect Journalists, cites the Ministry of Information and Communication Technology (MICT) upped Censorship against the Reds, one day after martial law was declared:
"One day after the April 8 declaration of martial law, MICT held a press conference at which it announced 9,000 to 10,000 new site blocks since the Red Shirt protests began, with an intention to block 700 more."
For the past two months I have been following on Twitter the ongoing battles between the Abhisit led Democratic government, and the United Front Against Dictatorship (UDD), known as the Red Shirts, who have been camped out in a swank downtown district of Bangkok for the past nine weeks asking immediate dissolution of the government and new elections. They say the Democrat led government is unconstitutional.
I flew into Bangkok on the 14th of May , a Friday evening from Penang, Malaysia. I think it was the most congested day that Bangkok had experienced in many decades. I really had reservations of flying in, as I knew the political situation could deteriorate at any moment. The previous day the Red militant leader Khattiya Sawasdipol, known as the Red Commander, or Se Daeng, had been targeted by a sniper while giving an interview to Thomas Fuller of the New York Times. He would die a few days later in hospital with renal failure.
At Penang airport , I was searching for updates on Thailand in Google news on my Black Berry, but the fury of what was unfolding was hidden from mainstream news, as I would later discover when I got back onto Twitter later that evening. With the assassination attempt ofSe Daeng, we all knew that this would be the beginning of the escalation of the riots and a showdown between the Red protestors and the Army.
A few days before the attempt on Se Daeng’s life, it looked like the leaders of the Red Shirts were going to accept Abhiset’s 5 point Road Map, which had been given the positive thumbs up by all the Thai papers, as a local expat @bangkokpundit, and ire of the PAD supporters posted on his blog. And understandably, there was optimism that the inevitable show down would be put off. That was every sane person’s wish, and even Thaksin, the former Prime Minister who was unseated in a coup in 06, had sent a Tweet from his account, @thaksinlive welcoming the Road Map, which attracted the ire of the pro-government supporters (the Yellows, or PAD --People’s Alliance for Democracy) who smelt out the comment as an insincere remark.
In his last interview, Se Daeng was reported to have said that that it was better to fight on, if his boss Thaksin was ever to return home victorious, which would set the scene for the next tumultuous week.
What am I getting myself into? I thought, as I was boarding my Air Asia flight to Bangkok from Penang where I had been for the last month. I had followed the April 10 clashes, where 25 people were killed and over a thousand injured. And a week later there was more skirmishes on Silom where a lady was killed from a grenade attack, after a clash between the Red Shirts and their arch enemies.
This wasn’t the Amazing Thailand that the Tourism Authority of Thailand had promoted. The world was witnessing the dark side of the Thai psyche, and Bangkok seemed a destination many travellers preferred not to visit, as was confirmed by a friend of mine in Australia who cancelled his flight.
At Suvarnabhumi Airport, on the brief bus ride from the plane to the terminal, a German tourist with his Thai girlfriend voiced his concern. “I hope it is ok around Nana Plaza?” he asked me, where he had booked his hotel room. I said that I had read on Twitter that the military were patrolling around that red light district after skirmishes on Plonchit road. He was in for one hell of a night, I thought, according to the munitions that would be fired in the next 48 hours.
I went directly to the Tourist Police. They were all glued to the TV. The airport was busy as usual and you wouldn’t know that there was going to be an intense showdown in a 2 square mile strip of down town Bangkok, unless you were watching the news of course. And remember the siege of the two Bangkok airports by the Yellow demonstrators (click on the link for a flashback)? Well that spectre wasn’t lost upon me as the Red Shirts currently tried to over throw the government using similar tactics of their nemesis, in this dangerous colour coding game.
I was told not to travel to certain areas of Bangkok, and the situation was nearly under control. The way the polite Tourist police said it was not reassuring. I went outside for a cigarette, and thought of how to get taxi fare with the meter on. I wasn’t in the mood for paying an outright extortion fare. Some airport staff were also smoking. One of them had a mini TV on his phone, and his friends were huddled around it listening to the news on Se Daeng. Obvious they were Red sympathisers. I asked them what was his chances of survival, they said in Thai, "50 -50".
I hailed a taxi, “You pay 100 baht special riot fee ” said the cabby, before he would start the meter. Not bad! Usually if you get a taxi outside the official stand, they just give you a very large round figure. Apparently the traffic was pretty bad as the military were manning roads leading into the demonstration area, he explained. That was my first real report of what was happening in Bangkok!
In my hotel, I got my Internet connection sorted, and started following the unfolding crack down. I was about 5 kilometres from the main stage. But the BTS was shut down indefinitely. I thought about going to the demonstration zone, but I read on Twitter that anyone caught within the demonstration site would be arrested and given two years jail. Sure, I admit it, I was a coward.
But that didn’t stop some foreign Tweet-freaks like @RichardBarrow who was still reporting from the Rachapong Stage and offering sympathetic reports of the protestors ( he did the Bangkok Dangerous Map which was a hit in Bangkok expat circles who wanted up to date accounts of "hot" areas) , outside the World Trade Center Shopping mall, which would be burnt down to the ground, after the military crackdown, by arsonists.
Monday the 17th.
As one of the foremost commentators on the Thai crisis, The Nation editor, Tulsathit Taptim, who was tweeting under @tulsathit said, “One day in Twitter Land is a long time". Totally agreed. But that didn't stop me getting Twitter updates on my phone as I took the evening bus upcountry. That evening the government announced a curfew after the military had successfully broke up the demonstration. Well one claim to fame I regret, was not being in Bangkok for a curfew. But being only an hour out of the city, I still had the luxury of hitting a 7 11 late at night, in contrast to the Twitter accounts of shops running out of stock in the Curfew zone, as Bangkokians prepared for the biggest Tweet-Up at home.
When the Red Leaders handed themselves in, the Red supporters booed them off stage, and the Ronins and Men in Black (MiB) without their masters to now guide them, went on a looting and burning rampage! That is the official version, but there has been lots of comments on Twitter that the burning of the World Trade Centre and other locations was actually a set up by certain underground pro-government groups who wanted to discredit the Red Movement. Here is a link to a Facebook account, which goes into the theories of who burnt down the buildings and why. And here is a taste of it's salacious content:
Remember who was feuding with Central and BEC before all of this? Who was the biggest enemy .... of the Central Group and Ch. 3 in the past 3 years? The direct beneficiary of the fire is not reds or Thaksin...
The city was blazing, Michelin Tyre Day, some commented, and calls for help were made over the Twitter wire, as people found themselves trapped in burning buildings:
“People can't get out, b/c soldiers won't allow anyone to walk thru,” was a popular RT, sent via ThaiVisa, a expat online news forum that was pretty prominent in covering the Thai Crisis, and RT other's Tweets.
This was a sensational ending to a two month demonstration. We saw children, women and the elderly of the Red Shirt protestors huddled in Wat Pathum Temple, a supposed refuge from the “Fire Zone” where military stated clearly anyone seen there would be shot with live bullets.
At the Wat Pathum temple (this is a recent analysis of what actually happened at the temple, were the soldiers firing at the temple from the BTS station?) , another saga was unfolding in Twitter Land. Foreign journalists were reporting sniper fire on innocent demonstrators who were fleeing the army and seeking safety in the temple. Seven people were killed by sniper fire, including a medic Kamolket Akahad.
One Canadian journalist Mark MacKinnon (@markkinnon) from the Globe and Mail, who was with a British journalist at the temple, who had been shot in the hip, sent out an urgent Tweet at 8.49 on the 19th of May:
Please RT. People around me are dying because they can’t get to the hospital across the road because of #bang
This remarkable call was accompanied with a TwitPic of terrified people, hiding behind trucks, “after bullet whizzes through the temple compound.”
Within minutes, my pleas had indeed been retweeted hundreds, maybe thousands of times, in English, Thai and other languages. They were posted on the websites of Britain’s The Guardian newspaper and other international media. People I knew only through Twitter started calling me to check on our situation. More helpfully, others started calling embassies, hospitals and the Thai government.
Eighty minutes later, I was carrying stretchers out to a row of waiting ambulances. “Twitter may just have done this,” was my next update.
One video “Farang Threatens To Burn Down Central World After Looting It“ taken by a Canadian tourist who posted it on Youtube, became the most sensational viral video of the #Thai crisis, which ensured a witch hunt to find the Red Brit, Jeoff Savage, who was filmed carrying a bamboo stick, and ranting “"We're gonna smash the fucking Central [World] Plaza … we're gonna loot everything, gold.”
And then there was Connor Purcell( above in picture), a former Australian soldier and English teacher in Thailand, who was also seen on the Red Stage, lambasting the Democratic government asking for democratic elections immediately. These two videos were circulated on Youtube and short linked and circulated on Twitter. And once The Centre for the Resolution of Emergency Situation (CRES) had the situation under control, the two foreigners were quickly arrested.
Both are now in remand prison, with possible two years detention for inciting violence; and possibly the death sentence for Savage who was seen also at the Channel 3 building when it was burnt by Red Shirt protestors.
@Freakingcat, one of the Bangkok expats, and quite active Twitterer, started a witch hunt to find Jeoff Savage. I protested against that, saying it was the role of the Thai authorities. I was duly attacked by another expat who said that I supported the death of innocent lives.
Here is a recent post by @freakingcat in regards to Jeoff Savage:
Well Jeff Savage...you probably gonna miss more than one World Cup! And no TV in your cellal-l Bangkokians really feel sorry for you! HAHA!!
And my respone to his post was somthing like this: If you ever fuck up I will visit you at the Remand Prison!
Twitter not only kept people informed during the nine week crisis, wrote Mark Mackinnon, but also “ amplified the hate on both sides of the country’s divide.”
The big issue following the fall out, when one third of Thailand was under state of emergency and Bangkok was still under Curfew , were the Men in Black (MiB). And a popular RT of an article by Kenneth Todd Ruiz and Olivier Sarbil titled "Unmasked: Thailand's men in black" which came out on the 29th of May on Asia Online created it's fair share of controversy. Many covering the unfolding crisis asked why wasn't the article published earlier. And there other accusations by supporters of Reds that the article was a pro PAD piece, because it ran in Asia Online, who some suspected was one of the prominant Yellow leader's, Sondhi Limthongkul, publication. I also accused the writers of cooking up quotes, it seemed unreal that the MiB would use code names like "Happy Birthday", before they detonated bombs around the city. So I contacted @oliviersarbil directly. He confirmed that it was nonsence that the piece was pro-government, and he said that the condition of publishing the breaking story was when the demonstrations were over, other wise they would be killled. There had been a few foreign journalists shot at, including Nelson Rand, Chandler Vandergrift, Andrew Buncombe. And Italian photographer, Fabio Polenghi, and Japanese cameraman,Hiroyuki Miramoto, were killed covering the riots. Also Thai journalist, Chaiwat Pumpuan was shot at and injured. The big question raging on Twitter, who were the snipers that shot at them? MiB or government sponsored snipers?
Last footage taken by Japanese Cameraman before he was killed
Photographer Chaiwat Pumpuang was shot on his leg on May 19
(Shooting of Italian Journalist, Thai Footage)
(Canadian Nelson Rand calling out for help after being shot at by Snipers)
Circulating on Twitter was a link to Sniperman’s account on Facebook, which added fuel to the rumour mill. “Sniperman” was apparently a vigil anti group who wanted to rid Thailand of the red scum which was burning down their country, and according to the chief PAD guard, they had killed six people so far.
And he was a larger than life character. @pookem was a former Captain in the Thai army, who trained under Sah Dang in Class 37, and now has over 11 000 followers on Twitter who are members of his Anonymous Warrior Fan Club.
Pookem was the head instructor of the PAD guards, and he told me that he and Se Dang were once good friends, but parted their separate ways after a differing of ideology.
To break the ice, I found that he has a ping pong list, and I am a big fan of table tennis.
So I dropped the rogue soldier a tweet. @pookem hi again, do you like to play ping pong? if so i hope w can play some time soon, but i am not very good!
He got back to me with this: @Elmotheclown I love to play pingpong. Hope we play it together soon.
The next tweet was: @elmotheclown Are you a ping pong player in Olympics
I had told him I played ping pong in China, so I clarified my point with another tweet.: @pookem I stopped off at a Stadium in Kunming China, and asked a Chinese player with a lame leg if I could play, he thrashed me
Captain Capt Songklod Chuenchupo said in the Bangkok Post in 2008: ''The UDD supporters are Thais like us, but they are just misled. For this reason, please only beat them until they are unable to walk, not beat them to death,''
He told me that he had clashed with his former teacher, Se Daeng, back in 08. He did confess that his Anonymous Warriors were acting as informers for CRES. He cited one example, when he saw sniper fire from a building around Ding Dang, “I cced it to @pm_abhisit, and the next day the military were all over the place."
During the riots, Capt Pookem blended in with the Reds. He said their failure was bad intelligence, and not utilising the Twitter like his group did.
Then he commented on my timeline, with a dash of bravado:
I reported the MiB covering themself in some high buildings to CRES. And I'd done like these for the demonstrators locations ,also. The Red mob security system were so poor. Nobody catch me. Even I walked around all mob area.
(Pookem uses auto google translate on his english account @pookemlive --notice the similarity to @thaksinlive :), which accounts for the choppy English! And if you follow Captain Pookem, you will see his unfollow @thaksinlive game, his way of countering the former Prime Minister's online presence)
I was friends both with the Yellows and the Reds and received my fair share of scorn from both camps, because of my perceived politics. But that didn't stop us from Twittering fervently at two hashes : #redshirt and #thaicrisis. And at the end of the Curfew, there were Tweet-ups all over the place:
SAT: OK People! Q Bar re-opening with a big one tonight CURFREE!. @DJOcto spinning the Bangkok Tweet-up.
Game set and match. It was business as usual in Bangkok.And things quietened down on Twitter. It seems once curfew was over, the hatred from both sides turned momentarily into joy. I was still at my Tweet Deck monitoring the mood that night. It was like everyone had amnesia -- nothing like an alcohol induced stupor to momentarily white wash the death toll of two months, which left 88 dead and thousands injured.
Nicolas Farrelly, editor of New Mandala, in a recent discussion panel from ANU commenting on a forum, Thailand on the Verge, says "there is a hunger in Thailand for uncensored analysis, better information, critical innuendo, radical perspectives and challenging arguments.”
And Twitter was the social networking site where heated political debates were fought in cyberspace. The debate will no doubt continue to rage on, as Thailand deals with growing pains of becoming a democracy.
Thanks for the ride --- the spectrum of views and ideas from both the Red and Yellow camps shows that nothing is ever black and white, or colour coded. As to the Twitter Whale, yes, you confirmed that something big and exciting, and down right despicable was going on here in the Land of Smiles.
Note: special thanks --pictures provided kindly by noname_8
I am going to write a travelogue on Penang, Malaysia. I caught a bus from Kualar Lumpur two weeks ago. I have not gone any further than a few blocks from my guest house, where I am locked away doing Web 101. I will try and build up a picture of the tourist industry that is on my front doorstep, using different media, from photo, videos, to perhaps audio files.
