Author: Dr. F (Ian Williams)
Some
years
back
when
my
graduating
film
had
just
wrapped
up
with
it’s
shooting
I
walked
out
of
my
house
utterly
dazed. It
had
been
a
grueling
ten
day
shoot
which
had
me
spent;
wallet
and
everything
else.
Watching
the
footage
meter
on
the
back
of
the
Ariflex
camera
blur
around
was
like
seeing
something
on
the
dash
of
a
rocket
taxi
to
the
moon.
I
was
now
in
debt,
and
there
was
a
tiny
window
of
time
between
the
film’s
wrapping
and
a
three
month
haul
in
front
of
the
editing
machine.
I
walked
in
to
the
local
grocery
shop
to
get
away
from
the
heat
from
the
footpath,
and
the
wonderful
and
jumbled
smell
of
fresh
fruit
brought
me
back
to
sometime
long
ago
when
I
was
a
kid
at
the
markets.
It
was
cool
and
pretty
dark
and
my
eyes
needed
time
to
catch
up
from
a
hullabaloo
of
light
outside.
He
didn’t
call
it
that,
he
called
it
the Quattro
livelli
di
conoscenza. And
he
told
me
about
it
and
didn’t
let
up
until
he
thought
I
understood
it.
There
were
a
few
people
milling
about,
and
I
heard
the
sound
of
someone
laughing
with
absolute
joy.
It
was
coming
from
a
room
at
the
back
of
the
small
shop
and
I
walked
towards
the
door
ajar
there. Inside
there
was
an
elderly
man
sitting
at
a
card
table
and
he
was
drinking
something
pretty
strong
and
home
made
by
the
looks
of
the
large
bottle
with
a
cork
in
it.
We
were
the
only
people
there
and
he
looked
at
me
and
didn’t
miss
a
beat
of
his
tearful
laughing
when
he
said,
“Listen
to
the
cricket,
just
listen
to
it…”
Nearby
was
an
old
transistor
radio
and
the
cricket
was
playing,
so
I
listened
to
it
hoping
to
get
the
joke.
Quite
frankly
I
didn’t
get
it
and
thought
maybe
the
guy
was
happy
on
his
grappa
and
that
was
that.
He
leaned
forward
and
said,
“No,
listen
to
the
other
cricket,
can
you
hear
the
cricket
?” It
was
then
that
I
heard
the
sound
of
the
chirping
of
a
cricket
that
I’d
missed
before.
I
didn’t
think
the
joke
was
all
that
funny,
but
I
was
very
amused
by
this
man
I’d
never
clapped
eyes
on
before.
He
gestured
me
to
sit
and
share
a
drink
and
so
we
did.
We
sat
there
sharing
some
of
his
strong
grappa
and
although
we
were
poles
apart
in
our
age
and
backgrounds
we
did
have
this
short
time
together
and
he
told
me
about
the
“four
levels
of
knowing.”
He
didn’t
call
it
that,
he
called
it
the
Quattro
livelli
di
conoscenza. And
he
told
me
about
it
and
didn’t
let
up
until
he
thought
I
understood
it.
Now
you
have
to
understand
I’m
not
retelling
this
moment
with
him
as
an
earthbound
Yoda
or
a
swami
in
a
cave
with
a
beard
as
long
as
his
name.
This
was
just
a
man
who
knew
something
interesting
and
wanted
to
tell
me
about
it
and
he
did.
Now
I’m
going
to
tell
you
about
it
and
I’m
using
an
analogy
here
with
chess.
Level
1.
Unconsciously
Unaware:
When
you
are
a
toddler
you
know
nothing
of
chess.
You’ve
never
seen
a
chess
board
and
you
have
never
heard
the
word
“chess”
before.It’s
here
at
level
one
you
are
not
even
aware
that
you
know
nothing
of
chess.
You
don’t
know
that
you
don’t
even
know.
Level
2.
Consciously
Unaware:
For
the
first
time
you
see
a
chess
game
in
play.
Someone
says
“look,
they’re
playing
chess.”
You
now
know
that
there
is
a
game
called
chess
but
you
have
no
idea
how
to
play
it.
You
are
at
level
two
because
you
know
that
you
are
aware
that
you
know
nothing
of
chess.
You
know
that
you
don’t
know.
Level
3.
Consciously
Aware:
You
are
playing
the
game
and
you
are
very
new
at
it.
As
you
move
each
piece
you
have
to
remind
yourself
how
each
piece
moves
differently.
The
rules
of
the
game
are
always
in
your
mind,
and
it’s
this
that
makes
the
play
of
the
game
a
battle
not
on
the
board
but
in
your
head
as
you
try
to
remember
them. You
not
only
know
of
chess,
you
can
play
it.
This
is
the
third
level
because
you
know
that
you
know.
Level
4.
Unconsciously
Aware:
Years
have
past
and
you
play
at
a
competition
level.
You
never
give
a
thought
about
the
rules
and
now
you
think
of
tactics
only.
While
you
play
your
mind
may
wander
a
moment
to
something
else
like
a
song
or
a
conversation
you’d
had
years
before.
You
can
think
these
things
and
play
chess
at
the
same
time
and
your
game
is
the
same.
You’re
an
expert. You’re
at
the
highest
level
because
when
it
comes
to
chess
you
are
not
aware
that
you’re
thinking
about
the
game
while
you’re
playing
it.
You
are
so
aware
it
has
you
asleep
to
how
aware
you
are.
That’s
just
chess.
There’s
all
the
other
things
out
there
that
have
you
at
“competition
level.”
You
tie
your
shoe
laces
up
while
wondering
if
warm
beer’s
better
than
cold.
When
you
drive
a
car
you
listen
to
music
and
make
words
from
the
number
plate
in
front
of
you.
All
of
us
are
at
level
four
in
many
ways
and
in
so
many
other
ways
we
are
level
three
or
less.
When
we
do
our
taxes,
we
are
flying
by
the
seat
of
our
duds,
and
if
we
plant
a
fruit
tree
in
the
garden
it’s
normal
to
read
about
how
much
sun
it
needs
and
therefore
where
best
to
plant
it.
That’s
most
of
us,
but
for
an
accountant
or
a
botanist
it’s
a
different
story
because
at
level
four
they
never
think
about
thinking
about
it
and
their
minds
are
free
to
wander
elsewhere.
So
what
the
hell
does
any
of
this
have
to
do
with
you
and
me?
Well,
the
thing
is
because
you
and
I
know
about
the
Quattro
livelli
di
conoscenza.
We
can
go
about
our
ways
better
as
MRA’s.
Have
you
ever
been
spluttering
with
impotent
annoyance
at
a
social
gathering
when
someone
dumps
on
blokes?
I
have
and
it
burns
my
face
red.
When
it
happens
I
find
myself
trying
to
remember
stats
and
sources
of
credible
information
and
while
I
am
doing
this
the
moment
has
passed.
The
sensation
of
letting
myself
and
you
down
stays
with
me
and
I
play
the
moment
over
in
my
head
like
a
creepy
sound
bite
on
a
loop.
I’m
at
level
three
with
these
things.
I
am
consciously
aware
of
myself
trying
as
hard
as
I
can
to
remember
the
information
here
in
the
Mission
and
Values, and
it’s
not
just
that.
There’s
the
shaming
tactics
I
know
about
but
wish
to
draw
upon
in
a
trice
when
I’m
shamed.
There’s
no
way
I’m
wanting
to
score
points
in
a
misandric
hotbed,
I
simply
want
to
defeat
with
rapid
grace.
I
can’t
do
this
at
level
three.
I
just
can’t
while
I’m
checking
the
rules
and
the
facts
and
wondering
if
I
have
the
numbers
and
names
right.
My
impotence
is
secured
for
the
more
dilligent
feminists,
and
if
there
are
passive
blue
pillarians
there
as
well
I
have
missed
my
moment.
I
can’t
go
on
like
this
and
I’m
on
a
personal
mission
to
bootstrap
it
to
the
next
level.
Just
like
the
times
table
or
the
shoe
laces
these
things
will
soon
be
right
with
me
always.
I
can’t
sit
back
and
have
a
beer
and
let
by
osmosis
the
newer
me
soak
into
me.
I
have
to
work
at
it,
and
having
a
low
frustration
tolerance
in
this
respect
will
have
me
coming
off
second
best.
Every
time
I
practice
as
an
MRA
in
any
capacity
online
or
in
social
circles
I
am
getting
closer
to
the
level
of
doing
something
with
such
expertise
I
am
never
thinking
of
it,
I
just
do
it.
I
never
saw
that
old
guy
again
and
not
for
any
dramatic
reason
either.
With
all
frankness
I
never
wanted
to
go
back
to
that
grocery
shop
because
the
short
time
I
had
with
him
was
so
treasured
I
shied
from
the
chance
of
making
it
anything
else.
I
didn’t
want
to
see
him
measured
less
than
my
memory
showed
him
and
I’m
happy
with
that. I’m
just
saying
that
he
was
just
a
guy
who
told
me
something
very
interesting.
And
now
I’ve
told
you.
The
cover
image
is
under
CC-BY-SA
4.0.
Original Story on AVFM
These stories are from AVoiceForMen.com.
(Changing the cultural narrative)