ABOUT JONAR NADER

I am not on a mission to save the world. I am not on a mission to achieve greatness. What I have realised as I have gained experience on this beautiful planet is that I am supremely blessed and fortunate to be alive and prosperous.

This has not always been the case. There was a time when I was not alive, and there was a time when I was not prosperous. These days, I do not measure my wealth in dollars. I am appalled at the number of people who try so hard to make money. There are many ways to make money. But what’s the point? To me, my mission is to live. To marvel at how my eyes work. To stare at a flower and go weak with admiration at the incomprehensible miracles of life and death. To observe my body as a blob of flesh and bones that operates non-stop on air, water, and glorious food. How is it so? How does it work? Amazing indeed!

I speak like a person who appreciates life. And I must admit that I might not have been so passionate if it were not for the fact that I nearly lost my life several times. Yes, I am one of those people who came so near death that I am delighted to wake up every morning. When I go for walks with friends, I have to halt and watch the sunset. I have to freeze and watch the bird take flight. Many people do not understand what it means to be alive.

BUILDING CONFIDENCE

There was also a time when I had no confidence. I was teased at school for everything I did and everything I did not do. I was harassed about what I had, and what I could not afford. I was tormented for being who I was, and bullied for not being what others wanted me to be. I was ridiculed for my looks and my features that I could not change. It was jolly hard to please anyone.

When I began to realise that material wealth was of no value, and when I began to feel a sense of urgency for life, and when I understood how fragile we humans are, I started to take great offence at anyone who stole my life. People used to steal my life by stealing my time. They had me running around trying to please the boss. I worked day and night to reach goals, make targets, meet deadlines, and for what? I did not mind it when it was fun, exciting, and purposeful. But when the dirty politics of corporate-life sapped my energy, I became furious. I took my anger out on the idiots and bastards who were time-thieves. Sometimes I took my anger out on my family and friends.

The thieves went about their business by trying to intimidate me. They tried to keep me on the run. They lied and cheated, but they did not know what they were doing. Their soul was empty and they were unkind. Interestingly, they were the ones who were promoted, who destroyed confidence, who stabbed people in the back, and who received the accolades. This still happens. I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe what I see going on around me.

For many years I fought with these people. I took on every battle. I stood up to every bully. As a result, I was attacked and bruised. Almost every single time, my colleagues could not see what the fuss was about. Invariably, three years later, they would apologise when they twigged to their naivety.

Eventually, I began to understand that by fighting the idiots, I was wasting my limited energy. I was better off trying to spend my time with those who could benefit from it. I started to invest my energy in helping others to gain their independence.

ONE DAY AT A TIME

My mission in life is very simple. I am passionate about life. I have a gift to enjoy this planet, and I want to make sure that every day is fabulous. I do still fight battles, argue, and stress out, but every day I am getting better at reducing the nonsense.

You see, there are people out there who set about increasing their material wealth, and they succeed, but their burdens increase also. I am setting out to reduce my burdens and increase my pleasure.

Part of that mix includes a sense of responsibility. I do my humble little bit to contribute to this world. I cannot solve world hunger, but I can help just a few people within my means. I can’t clean up the world, but I can pick up one piece of paper. I can’t purify the waterways, but I can refrain from adding to the pollution.

I am not superhuman by any means. I have my ups and down, and I have my needs and desires. I have my weak moments, and my perplexing thoughts. Gladly, I am growing stronger and surer of foot. I like myself now, and this has taken years to achieve.

So, I love what I do and I am happy with what I have. I desire a few things, but I don’t feel that I lack anything. Indeed I am rich.

SHARING MY GIFTS

Part of my joyous spirit wants to share my excitement with others. I do this in many ways. My books are all about exchanging knowledge. My lectures are always urging others to strive for a better life.

I do not trade in shares on the stock market because I wholeheartedly believe that trading in shares is unethical. It sounds funny to say that. I know it sounds strange. However, I see the destruction and the greed. Maybe one day I will elaborate on this subject. I have been saying this for decades. I did not place this paragraph here as a result of any recent financial crisis.

I do not smoke. I have never smoked. I feel sorry for those who are addicted. I feel sorry for those who feel that they have to start. Furthermore, alcohol has never passed my lips. I am not virtuous. I have my vices and my weaknesses also. I am not perfect. I am merely able to control myself to the point where I can see that putting alcohol and nicotine in my body is like putting sand in my new car’s engine. Who would polish their new car with stone? Yet our body is a trillion times more complex than the best car in the world. Why abuse it when it is so important to us?

MY CHILDHOOD

I would not wish my childhood on anyone. I still get goose bumps when I think about the cruelty I have suffered. I feel very sorry for the boy Jonar who was in so much pain for years. However, it was my challenge, and half of my life is nearly over. I have paid my dues, and now I want to live. When you begin to understand my life from my perspective, you might forgive me for being so passionate about what I do and say, and what I choose to tackle.

FIGHTING TO SURVIVE

Those who get in my way are usually those who know that if I win the battle, they will lose their ugly power bases. You can imagine what levels they would stoop to in order to keep their positions of power. I do not mind anyone having power. It’s just that I abhor unethical selfish hypocrites whose minuscule brains get in the way of other innocent beautiful souls who are trying to mind their own business.

If you want to see me in action, you should be around me when I see people taking advantage of others. Many memories of my childhood play out in my mind, as if in slow motion, with dramatic music. Alarm bells start to ring, and I fly off the handle, hurling myself to quash the insanity of people’s cruelty. Whether in a shopping centre, a theatre, a car park, at the office, around a boardroom table, at a restaurant, or over the phone, I know no limits when inconsiderate arrogant bastards press my hot buttons. Many a security camera has caught me in the act. One day I might end up on one of those home video TV shows — caught in the act of reaching over the counter and making my presence felt.

TAKE LIFE SERIOUSLY

I am a peaceful person, and a caring person. But people often mistake me for being passive. Then wham, they are in for a surprise. Don’t cross nice people. Amongst them are the most dangerous.

I urge everyone to take life seriously. To fight when it is needed. To stand up to bullies when they can. To push back the tide of cruelty at every opportunity.

We can’t take on every fight. We can’t stand up to all the bullies. Some bullies are stronger than us. But if we all did our little bit, I am sure that the world will be a better place for the new generation. Besides, angels rush from heaven to help those who are engaged in a just fight. I have amassed strength and witnessed miracles that have left me amazed. When angels come to your aide, there is nothing you can’t do. Just go with the flow.

I wish you copious amounts of bravery, and lashings of audacity.

Jonar rarely records his presentations, because most of his training and consulting is conducted behind the scenes for private clients whose work is confidential.

This short video profiles Jonar in action. It features a small selection of the hundreds of interviews and presentations that Jonar has conducted around the world.

The purpose of this video is to provide you with an overview of Jonar’s energy.

If you would like additional information about Jonar and his services, please contact us.

At social functions, people often ask each other about the type of music they listen to. Apart from it being an ice-breaker, it does offer some clues about a person’s tastes. In my case, I find it difficult to answer this question because I do have such a varied taste, depending on the mood I’m in.

I enjoy music that does not trick me; meaning that it must be true to its promise. For example, if it is supposed to help me sleep then it should do so without interrupting me as I drift away. It should not contain abrupt or coarse moments. I listen to classical music that can follow this pattern. Heavy or schizophrenic jumps in mood spoil it for me. For that reason, only a small range of classical music suits my temperament.

There are times when I need music to heal me, or to help me ponder about the deep and meaningful moments in life.

When I go walking, I try to look at things that I rarely have the opportunity to observe while driving. Hence, walking music must allow me to get into the rhythm of the surrounding environment.

When I take friends out to see a stage show, I like catchy tunes that are easy to remember and hum to. Opera and musicals are not my favourite, only because most storylines are about someone having a fight with someone else. This disturbs my spirit.

It is marvellous to watch musicians play their instrument. There is something rewarding about watching a harpist become one with the instrument. It is not hard to be swept away by clarinettists or those who can play a string instrument in a way that makes me melt away. One of the sweetest instruments is the human voice. Used well, it can penetrate my heart.

I rarely go to concerts because I dislike the traffic and the crowds. With music so readily available, it is sometimes better to listen to music at my own pace and in my own time. However, some artists produce magic together. I get a thrill out of watching them perform as a team. Some groups play so well together, that watching the players feed off each other’s energy renews my vigour and boosts my hope for the human race, especially when there is a genius behind the orchestral composition.

Some instruments are very simple. Yet when played by a master, they come to life. Such is the case with simple percussion instruments that beat away to produce funky tunes.

I am fascinated when I observe how cultures have managed to create a feel of their own. The Irish know how to sing about a broken heart. Modern Aboriginal bands know how to pump energy into the soul. The Spanish know how to ignite romance, while the Arabs can reach inside the heart and pulsate it.

There are times when I surrender to music in order to chill out. When I crave for a better world, I have certain styles that get me going and urge me to take up arms. Sad songs indulge sad times, after which I listen carefully to songs whose words help me to recognise much needed wisdom. In prayer, I find choral works to be angelic and soothing, especially if I am lamenting about the loss of a loved one. I try to heal from a broken heart; and just when I feel stronger, it starts all over again, with new hope, and new love by the fireside.

So you see, it is not easy for me to nominate one style of music. I enjoy any piece of music that is brilliant in its own right. I love the sun and I adore the rain. I enjoy the clever mixing of music and vocals that combine to form an aria.

Whether I am madly in love, or pensive. Whether I feel invincible or let down by friends, I can cocoon myself in my many tracks, each carefully catalogued in my mind.

I am very particular about music, sound, and noise. I insist on the right combination of poetry, wisdom, and funk. It surprises many people to learn that although I give thousands of radio interviews, and have been doing so for over ten years, I actually never listen to radio. Never! I never watch television. I do own videos, and I watch what suits me, when it suits me. Most of my videos are BBC comedies. You can learn more about that in my separate Comedy section.

Often I infuriate restaurateurs when I ask for their music to be changed. I make taxi drivers mad when I ask them to turn the radio off. I take offence at music that is not in synchronisation with my mood because I can close my eyes, but I can’t shut my ears, so when I can, I try to take control. When one becomes acutely aware of the power of music, one becomes intolerant to inputs that clash with the soul. Any piece of brilliant music is nothing but noise if it infiltrates my heart uninvited.

Of course I enjoy some jazz, a small amount of clever techno, and intelligent disco; but only when they suit my mood. I enjoy good tap, and even mixed genres that morph into a whole new feel. I also get a buzz out of stupid crazy songs that don’t mean anything; like this one about a blender that turns into the world’s most powerful vacuum cleaner!

Each of the excerpts presented here is from musicians and artists whom I study. I don’t just listen to music. I engage with the artists. It is much more enjoyable when I can understand the human behind the creativity. By learning about their life and challenges, I can better understand how their music was born.

Each of the artists presented in this list are those for whom I have complete respect and admiration. Some are no longer with us on this planet, yet their spirit hovers over me, and I feel that they are with me. It is strange to relate to you that I have a sense of gratitude towards these artists. I am truly grateful for their performance, and for what they have created for me to enjoy. I really do applaud them in my heart every time I hear their labour of love. I actually thank them after every performance that is played out in my head. The weird aspect is that they do not know that I exist on this Earth. Despite that, I am selfishly absorbing their energy, and can feel a sense of wonder about what they are giving to me, when in fact I am a total stranger to them. This is what I call generosity.

I’d be happy to learn about your taste in music, so please write to me. I answer all my mail.

Jonar Nader

The concept of comedy has fascinated me since my early teenage years. I left school at the age of fourteen and took up part-time studies for six years. This meant that after a hard day’s work, I had to attend classes which normally finished at 11:00 pm. Thereafter, I had plenty of homework to do. I was up until well after midnight. Although I do not listen to the radio now, back then, the radio did keep me company. At that hour of the morning, I could hear BBC comedy transmissions. In no time, I grew to understand and enjoy very old radio shows. It was then that my appreciation for comedy started.

These days, I study comedy like most people set about studying any other subject. I have realised that comedy is not a process of making one laugh, but of making one think.

Many a truth can be uttered in the guise of humour. I believe that humour and controversy are related; meaning that they both do exactly the same thing. Humour touches on very personal, revealing subjects, but manages to ignite laughter because it deflects off a person microseconds before it hits a raw nerve. On the other hand, controversy does exactly the same thing, except that at the last moment, instead of opening the relief valve, it hits the nerve, causing embarrassment, anger, or other unpleasantries. Both humour and controversy work on the premise of revealing truths. The former allows us to laugh at someone else’s situation, while the latter makes us uneasy about our own situation.

There is a lot of excellent talent in the world of comedy. It is not possible to explore them all. For this reason, I decided to focus my studies on British humour, and follow actors’ careers as they meander from stage, to radio, to TV.

My British comedy collection includes videos, tapes, scripts, photos, and books.

I probe into a show by observing the writers, more so than the actors. If I had to give an award to the best writer, it would go to David Renwick for what he created in One Foot in the Grave. Renwick is a genius when it comes to building suspense and drama amidst wit and intrigue (particularly in his movie-length episodes). Naturally, the cast bring the characters to life. I once met the lead actor. I was with a friend at a Sydney hotel very late at night after setting up for one of my lectures. While eating a pizza, my friend said, ‘Look, isn’t he that guy from that TV show?’ I looked up and said the ever so famous words, ‘I don’t believe it’. That famous catch cry was enough for Richard Wilson (the man behind the infuriating and frustrated character of Victor Meldrew) to turn around and greet us. I have a soft spot for Victor Meldrew in that I fear that maybe when I grow older, I might be just like him. I can already recognise traces of his character in me now.

The apparent stupidity of Dad’s Army was misunderstood. This show merely used the topic of the day to tackle popular issues that are relevant today; like greed, authority, discipline, confusion, hope, pride, and poverty. Dad’s Army is not unlike Star Trek. No two shows could be further apart, yet they both explore topics of race, hatred, harmony, and human intolerance in ways that pertain to modern-day challenges.

Everyone knows Rowan Atkinson, but few would recognise his brilliance as a group effort with Richard Curtis and Robin Driscoll, and later Ben Elton and others. It strikes me that Atkinson, the perfectionist that he is, just loves to stir us to use our brain. He does not care how he does it, as we have seen in so many of his works, such as The Thin Blue Line (whose strongest character is Goody), Black Adder,and Mr Bean.

Tony Hancock the actor who went to Sydney (Australia) and committed suicide, had the ability to make us believe that he and his character were inseparable. This is the ultimate trophy for an actor — when people can no longer distinguish between the two. Actors who reach this supreme state of professionalism pay the price because they become typecast, to the point where they can no longer find work. No director can integrate them in new shows for fear of confusing the audience.

The stalwarts of the industry, since departed to the big stage in the sky, include Frankie Howerd who never seemed to be acting. He looked like a fun-loving chap who craved attention — yet every gesture was scripted.

The old Round the Horne series was a hit long before I was born. The Charles and Fiona sketches from that show were breathtaking. (Charles is played by Bill Pertwee, the actor heard in Dad’s Army as the Hodges character under attack in the sketch.)

It was through Round the Horne that I grew to appreciate the diversity of Kenneth Williams’ talents. I have read some of his diaries (which he kept since the age of fifteen!), and I have grown to feel sad for Williams. One of his famous characters was Sandy in Julian and Sandy. (Julian is played by Huge Paddick, who appears in an episode of Black Adder.) Williams himself had a broad career, having worked on Hancock’s Half Hour, the Carry-On Gang, Just a Minute, and several other shows, all enriched by his performance, yet each begrudging him the limelight for which he yearned like a child.

Enough has been said about Yes Minister and Yes Prime Minister. I can only concur with all the critics that these episodes ought to be mandatory viewing for anyone who works in an organisation of any kind. I still point friends to this series and sometimes insist that they watch it before I can advise them about a problem that they are having at work. The bumbling forerunner to this show was called The Men from the Ministry.

I derive pleasure from Just a Minute. This show has been running for decades. The guests seem to have so much fun. On several occasions I have purchased copies of this show and sent it to chairmen or CEOs with the note,

‘Wouldn’t it be fabulous if corporate meetings were conducted under the rules of Just a Minute, whereby every executive would only have sixty seconds to present a case without repetition, deviation, or hesitation?’

The Australian series of Mother and Son is remarkable for many reasons. The major one being the ability of the writers and actors to create so much out of a simple concept. This was the case with Steptoe and Son. These simple poor men lived together, and showed us human nature in the raw. No matter what subject they tackled, it seems interesting that the opposite force was also revealed. For example, they were cruel yet kind. They were tough, yet soft on each other. They cramped each other’s style, yet went out of their way to support each other. Steptoe and Son did not focus on a father and his son, but on two humans who exhibited many ‘opposing’ emotions within the space of five minutes. People all over the world endure these struggles daily. Similar struggles were expressed through Only Fools and Horses. Here, the two Trotter brothers get on each other’s nerves, but they stick together, like a real family. They are hopeless, but they exhibit a refreshing sense of hope for the future, because, as the elder brother Del Trotter says, this time next year he will be a millionaire. (Del was played by David Jason who also starred in A Touch of Frost. If Tony Hancock wins hands down for vocal genius, Jason wins for supremacy in facial expressions whose timing is faultless, winching and twitching with every syllable.)

This left the way open for two sisters to live under the same roof to show us how the girls do it in Birds of a Feather. Leslie Joseph, who plays the nosey frisky neighbour called Dorian, enormously strengthened this show.

Although I focus on British comedy, I do keep an eye out for other talent. I enjoy old Italian comedies (unfortunately, they are mostly in black and white). I am easily hypnotised when I watch Indian movies in full blast. The only time I might watch TV is when I am in a foreign country. When I was in India, I could not take my eyes off the set, despite being tired. I could not help but telephone my colleague at 2:00 am in his room in the same hotel and plead with him to turn his TV on to witness how the Indians do it. I observe Arabic humour whose ability to produce political satire is second to none. The tomfoolery of the Irish is made famous by the likes of Hal Roach.

The Australians have their moments too. Frontline is almost like Yes Minister. I felt that The Games (addressing the issues surrounding the Sydney 2000 Olympics) was also like the Yes Minister series. It exhibited human nature within a complex political struggle. The probing capabilities of Fast Forward allowed Australians to laugh at their daily affairs, behind the guise of some silly characters, carried by superbly engaging actors.

American humour used to be fun. I do not like most of it these days, only because issues are smothered with overt witticism that is slapped on through telling people off, and putting friends down. I do not consider it funny to be constantly insulting other people, especially when it does not add to the script. Everybody Loves Raymond exhibited writing finesse, while the good old American comedies of the seventies were fun. Earlier, there were the likes of stand-up comedian Bob Newhart who later found his way to TV.

Modern British characters are just as good as the old. Absolutely Fabulous is loveable, as are French and Saunders, and now Catherine Tate, in everything they do. Victoria Wood is such a good writer. In fact, I think that she is a much better writer than she is an actor. However, I appreciate her presence because having the mastermind behind the show there in front of me reminds me of the power of the human brain. She is unbelievably bright. How one person can be so versatile in their writing still takes my breath away. Her shows enabled Celia Imrie (also in Ab Fab) and Julie Walters (also in Billy Elliot) to come to life as two of the most polished character actors I know. They immerse themselves in their role, deserving a standing ovation from my armchair.

Keeping up Appearances, although poorly made, depicts the struggles of a woman who is in an environment in which she does not want to be, so she creates her own world to pander to her ego. Hyacinth Bucket does in ‘deed’ what others do in ‘thought’; meaning that she lives out her fantasy, while most people merely think about their fantasy.

Sundays would not be complete without an unwinding hour with the Carry On Gang. All the episodes are etched in my memory. Similarly, I can recite whole scenes from Fawlty Towers. Basil Fawlty reminds me of Frank Spencer in Some mothers do ‘ave ’em, in that Basil is the intelligent version of Frank. Both men create their own living hell.

Some comedy is just brilliant because it exposes issues that were, back then, not allowed to be discussed in public. A clever writer used to shroud the controversy of the day in double meanings. This is where Monty Python came in. Most of that series is not to my liking. However, there were a few gems that have become world famous, like the argument sketch.

I could tell you about dozens more. I go through each show with a fine toothcomb. Anyone who sits with me while watching any of the BBC comedies is treated to a history lesson. I whip out episodes left, right, and center, and treat my guests to a tour down memory lane, courtesy of the loveable characters whom I cherish as virtual friends.

I hope that this will give you some idea about how comedy plays a big part in my life.

Please feel free to let me know what you find stimulating. I answer all my mail.