Playing Zod

2012

2012-01-17T08:20:00.000+11:00

My goals for the year:

Continue writing the novel. I have not moved at the pace I would like, but I have made great strides.

Develop some new, exciting programs with which to engage the public.

See South Sydney make the top four in the NRL.

Continue to prep for the delivery of an online documentary series.

Submit proposal for the development of a children's picture book, based on the current theatre production of Tiddalik.

Teach Tiriki to understand the alphabet.

Write a second play, based on another Aboriginal creation story.

Pay off the debts.

Start work on a third play, based on reserve life.

Go fishing.

Consume less sugar.

Racism in Australia

2010-06-17T13:32:00.004+10:00

Australia is a tolerant nation. We are also the most diverse and multicultural nation on the face of the planet. At least, we are when looking at our predominantly urban society rather than our somewhat homogenous rural townships and settlements. Tolerance is a start, but tolerance does not equate to understanding and compassion for our fellow homo-sapiens. Indeed, the majority of us will tolerate new arrivals to our country, but only conditionally, and we certainly won't consider embracing such arrivals until those conditions are met.

You're welcome to come to Australia, but you had better look white, sound white and/or love mainstream white culture. If not, then you'd best get your alien arse to one of our concentration camps on either the mainland or Christmas Island, until you at least reconsider your fashion sense, taste in religion, skin tan and accent.

Sadly, if you don't fit the requirements of being an Australian, but are already here, having migrated to Australia 60,000 years ago at a time too early for restrictions to have been put in place, then quite clearly you are a problem. Your very existence is an inconvenience to the mainstream who have over the past 200+ years tried to build up a history of great exploration, endeavor and accomplishment. The fact that your ancestors showed explorers the routes to take and where to find nourishment, and that the agricultural industry was built on your people's backs is not a matter to be discussed! It's not about you, it's about everyone else, and the sooner that you realize this or vanish from the face of the Earth, the better.

For you, as an Aboriginal person, you are to be expected to cop any negative comments on the chin, and go about being in the background, adding a slight, inoffensive, easily removed touch of colour to the decor. Step over this mark though and be prepared to be demonized incessantly. You're here to be on postcards, on tourist trails and work on remote cattle stations, nothing more.

To be Aboriginal in Australia, you must accept that it's perfectly OK to have your heritage dissected and labelled. Nigger, boong, abo, darkie, Full blood, half caste, quadroon; all are perfectly acceptable. You're also going to have to live with an occasional comment where if you have enough European heritage in your ancestry that you're fair game to be considered "not reaaaally an Aborigine", and this will especially be so should your skin be fair, hair be red, or your eyes blue - even if your siblings exhibit few if any of these traits, whilst sharing the same pair of parents, or that your children are dark despite both parents being fair!

An as an Aboriginal person you are to be open to pseudo anthropological analysis from academics and layman alike. Get used to living in a fish bowl, because it's not your feelings that matter. They don't and they never did.

Yes, Australians are sensitive at times, but only to the needs of their own slices of life and those who inhabit the sphere they traverse on a daily basis. Self depreciation is an important part of being an Australian, but not as important as being swift in destroying those that differ from the Anglo-Celtic roadmap, or anyone who is an achiever, for that matter.

In Australia you can call a person any name you like. You may even combine issues of abuse and go for a multi tasked assault and rip to shred any retarded nigger dyke you care to! Because in this country it isn't the feelings of those hurt that matters. It's the feelings of those making the abusive comments that matter! What's great about this setup is that it absolves the perpetrator of any and all responsibility for their actions! Fantastic, huh?

A 5 year old Australian child may insult their playmates with all manner of abusive terminology acquired from overhearing one's parents and other adult role models, and because they lack an understanding for their actions, their actions may freely be seen only as rude, and not racist, sexist or condescendingly brutal at all. It's so easy, try it yourself! Find an easy target, insult them in public, and because you don't understand the history of the word you've utilised, and aren't familiar with the baggage associated with such derogatory and oppressive behavior you'll be given complete social immunity and you'll be free to resume where you left off, if only on a slightly lower key. If anything, the media will give you sympathy and consider you to be the victim for being called out for your actions!

But if the Aboriginal people should ever raise an eyebrow to past injustices, never fear, there's an in-built safety mechanism. It's called the reverse racism discussion. You see, with this particular device, White people may go even further to insult and degrade, for the moment that a question of racism is raised, one can simply invoke this option and begin a spiel justifying all comments, based only on perceived benefits that Aboriginal people receive from the government, that are beyond those that white people receive. Should a white person have ever experienced an insult from a black person, or know of someone who did, then all bets are off. It's time to take a free penalty shot. For all Aboriginals are to be labelled pedophiles and lazy, leeching, drunkards. Huzzuh! Hell, you might even like to introduce your friends in the US entertainment industry to portray Aboriginal people as being primitives in the occasional sitcom one-liner! The possibilities are endless!!

And what benefits might you invoke in your defense to accompany your broad generalized insults? Well, certain educational and health care benefits, which some might dare to say were instituted to attempt to address the downsides to being black in a Anglo-Celtic run nation. But let's not speak of such down sides.

Let's never mention THE FACTS.

Blog changes

2010-06-07T13:34:00.000+10:00

Why I rarely post on this blog these days..

I'm the sort of person who can't help collecting. I have a mass of hobbies and interests, and I need to be able to categorize and sort those obsessions into ways of processing information that fit with my own particular style. A prime example of this is how I treated my toy box as a small child. I would tip all of my toys onto the floor quite happily, in order to find that one specific action figurine that I wanted to play with, but when it came time to pick everything up, I would then place everything back into the box in an orderly, considered fashion. Everything had to go back in a way that made sense to me, so that next time I would be able to find it, even if the box would still look like a random pile to most others.

I still prefer things to be done my way, but I'm OK with alternatives. Another example being that when I was in my teens I often had a messy bedroom. This was because I wanted my possessions to be laid out and displayed in a way that would allow them to be easily sorted. I would have preferred to have had a room full of shelves and cupboards, but without those options, the floor and other areas were a poor, but logical substitute.

So what does this have to do with my blog? Well, put simply, I've occasionally started blogs in the past, only to give up after 2 or 3 posts. I've found however that in running 4 or more blogs, as I am currently, I am much more inclined to keep up with my posting. This is because it allows me to sort my thoughts into categories of major interest, and not throw them all together in the one location, where to my way of thinking - it's a random mess. It's simply not focused enough for how I like things to be done.

To get around the problem of sorting, I've been thinking about the potential for this blog to become more of an organized reflection of myself, perhaps in a way that many blogs are already organized, via everything being tagged and thus categorized automatically. The idea, which I'm certain has been done before, and probably quite often (despite my lack of knowledge for examples) is to order my blog as I would a model of how I'd imagine (wrongly) that my brain is organized. That instead of tags being the product of my writing, more often than not I will find my writing being influenced by a set of tags, to map my brain and my thoughts on an array of subjects as wide and varied as humanity itself.

Whilst I have no grand vision for this blog being anything more than the typical online journal or blog, I do expect that my writing from this point on, on this blog at least, will leave me very exposed and open to debate, if not insult. Which is a problem, given that generally I am a rather measured and guarded person in how I portray myself, and in what I allow to be public domain.

I don't mean this to sound as though I am going to be making any peculiar revelations in this blog, but in the process of offering opinion, and more opinion, I am bound to alienate all readers at one point or another in the future. Which is simply the nature of interpreting opinion. The more you speak, the tighter the odds become for disagreement in opinion.

OK, so having said this.. do I rename the blog?

PfffFFfFFffttttttttttt

2010-05-19T15:33:00.000+10:00

Achtung ladies!!

Why is it that when a woman farts on a train, and I'm surrounded only by women, those who choose to look for a culprit will indelibly choose to focus upon the only male within cheese-cutting distance?

Listen very carefully, for I shall say this only once:

Chicks fart. They are just a lot sneakier about it.

Sydney v Melbourne

2010-03-15T10:14:00.002+11:00

I've been living in Melbourne now for close to 2 years. I've enjoyed the transition and all the changes I've made to my life a great deal. It's been a pretty wild ride.

in the processes of change, I've gained an insight into the differences between people an environs in New South Wales and Victoria and to what makes them so different. Sydney is a fast paced city with perhaps a million too many people. It's public transport system is a joke, with buses being a last resort and trains being an irregular inconvenience. Despite Melbourne having a better public transport infrastructure, Sydney actually has better trains. They hold more people due to on average having more carriages and two decks as opposed to Melbourne's one. Packed trains in Sydney aren't uncommon, but in Melbourne it's often very hard to even find space in which to stand at peak hour.

Sydney is Australia's sports capital, regardless of what Melbournians are told to think, thanks primarily to the diversity of sporting interests and saturation of team sports franchises. A swag of rugby league clubs in the NRL, pro soccer clubs, rugby union and AFL. Melbourne is perhaps better classed as Australia's 'events capital'.

Sydney loses out in the pollution stakes. Melbourne is a greener city, with more environmentally minded people actively taking an interest in their city and its future. Its air is clean but its water quality is on par with Sydney's, where on a typical day the humidity in tandem with the pollution can leave a person not yet accustomed to its weather systems with a feeling of greasy, grimy, discomfort.

Media-wise, both cities have it quite poor. Melbournians are the most insecure of all Australians. References to Sydney and a need to prove any form of superiority abound, and to an outsider not allied to either city it's very tiring and at times very irritating. Sydney-siders on the other hand couldn't care less, happy in their lot regardless of how other cities perceive them.

It's perhaps a result of such parochial feelings that the Melbourne media is absolutely saturated with Victorian rules football coverage. It's their game, and the media does everything it can to sideline any perceived threats, particularly from the likes of rugby league - not what one might expect from a city proclaiming itself the national sporting capital.

Women in Melbourne are generally thinner, paler, and smoke more than those in Sydney. I'm not really sure why, but Victorians seem to be absolutely petrified of the sun. Kids are taught that exposure to the sun is a terrible thing, are covered up at all times, and for this reason kids in Melbourne on average have weaker bones than those in Sydney, even if the children in Sydney take the reverse too far and have more skin cancers.

Men on the other hand tend to be taller and much weedier. Perhaps this is due to body-shape aspirations of Melbourne men being that of Vic rules footballers, and basketballers whereas men in Sydney seem to carry frames that are less metrosexual and/or child-like. There are exceptions to both rules of course.

Melbourne is insular. It's all about Melbourne. Sydney is outward looking, save for the fact that it is so aggressively tribal along social lines. Sydneysiders will happily travel across the globe and promote their city as an international hub, but you're much less likely to find someone from the Eastern fringe venturing into deepest, darkest Western Sydney, which may be the most foreign land of all. Western Sydney residents on the other hand are far more inclined to venture to the East of the city, but they will certainly point out how poorly they think of their Eastern neighbours once having gone there.

Culturally, Melbourne is a lot richer than Sydney. It's music, visual arts and live events are a rich tapestry. In Sydney they are more of an afterthought. Perhaps Sydney makes up for this in its own odd way, by being so utterly dominant when it comes to the Australian finance and business sector.

Misconceptions about Sydney from Melbournians aren't as common as those they hold about New South Wales as a whole. Melbournians have a weird, incredibly skewed view of NSW based on their limited experiences of travel to Sydney, and to Queensland via the Newell Highway. Every year Victorians head to Queensland in droves, looking for sunshine and great holidays, and in the process if driving they travel via the Newell Highway through the back of NSW. They see small dying towns, parched, endless flat paddocks, straight roads dominated by trucks and are then given to the idea that all of New South Wales is just as boring. They drive past everything that New South Wales has in common with Queensland without ever knowing it. Most people in NSW would prefer to keep it that way too.

Misconceptions about Melbourne from Sydneysiders are focused primarily on the occasional latest boasts coming out of Victoria and on the weather. It's a generally held belief by New South Welshmen that Victoria and Melbourne has the worst weather imaginable. Cold days, endless grey skies and incessant rain are the keys to this theory, and each of them are generally wide of the mark. Winter in Melbourne is very cold, and at times can approach those seen in the Blue Mountains of NSW, but Summer is perhaps a more pleasant experience in Victoria than it is in Sydney. Indeed, blue skies are not rare, even if muggy, sweaty days are. As for rain, the reality is that Sydney actually receives more rainfall that Melbourne, only that in Victoria it falls for longer, in a light, somewhat innocent drizzle. In Sydney the rain is more often driving, falls in bucket loads and is a worth planning weekends around, whereas in Melbourne you just go ahead anyway, because you'll barely notice it.

Perhaps the only real ugly side to Melbourne so far is its racism. A black man like my father can walk the streets of Sydney without even the slightest raised eyebrow. In Melbourne, perhaps due to the rarity of Victorian Aboriginal people, my dad becomes somewhat of a sideshow, and people in Melbourne have shown absolutely no shame with how they will stare, rudely at a person in the street, for being different. Going to the mall in Melbourne for an Aboriginal man with dark skin is a confronting matter, and it's really no wonder that people of Indian heritage are being murdered in the numbers here that they are.

I'm enjoying my time in Melbourne, and despite it being once a home to both my parents and grandfather, I really can't see myself forming any real attachment to the place, any more than I might to Sydney where both my parents were born. I'll be here a fair few more years, but in time I'll look forward to getting back - out of the rat race.

I'm a Dad!

2010-01-26T09:20:00.000+11:00

Well, I'm a Dad.. again! I was already a stepfather to a charming young man by the name of Ethan, but now my first born has arrived to join our happy band.

Tiriki was born 21 January, 2010. He arrived at 12:10pm, weighing in at 8lb 10oz, stretching to 51cm in length.

So far my lad has settled in well, and his brother has adjusted to his new sibling very well. I'm so very glad for that. Some work went into it, but it does seem that there is a natural bond, and that will only grow, at least until perhaps they have to share some toys, haha.

My wife is doing well, and is mobile again, and it was nice having my folks in town for the birth. They were here a full month, after having arrived early, due to some false signs. They have now returned home however, as of yesterday morning.

Funnily enough, my Dad didn't get home in the amount of time he had planned, having instead pulled over for two hours, to give a radio interview about his boxing career. How the program got his number we don't know, but it sounds like he had a lot of fun doing it.

D-Day

2010-01-10T19:06:00.000+11:00

10th of Jan, 2010, 7:04pm. My child is due to arrive in less than 5 hours. Despite telling it to get out, that its rent is due, so far there is little movement at the station and it refuses to join us out here in a world that isn't so cramped. This matter makes a mockery of the fact that both my wife and I thought that our little one would be joining us about a week earlier. So much for that!

My folks are getting very bored I am sure. They came down to Melbourne from the Blue Mountains, with the suggestion that my wife was very close to giving birth. We thought wrong. So, we're in the middle of a heat wave and my folks are bored, in a strange city, locked in-doors with their son and his family, and unsure as to how to entertain themselves. Avatar was yesterday's suggestion. They caught the train to the suburb with the nearest cinema complex, and upon their return told us instead of how they had found the nearest poker machine palace.

For the record, they spent little, and came away empty handed. Hopefully, their luck will improve and they will get to see their grand child arrive, prior to leaving on the 15th for the renewal of their car registration!

Happy New Year

2010-01-03T10:43:00.000+11:00

A new year and changes are afoot. Baby Patten is due any time now. Which is good, because it was only last week that we got the name sorted out (that being related to asking permission to use the name, a tribal one).

My folks are here, staying with us for the birth of the baby. It's good to have them here, I do miss their company, living as I do a full day's travel by car from them.

Ch ch ch changes

2009-12-07T06:41:00.000+11:00

What's new..

- My amazingly amazing wife is 5 weeks away from giving birth - or somewhere in the vicinity. I can't wait!
- I'm enjoying work.
- I've never been so healthy. I eat healthy food (mostly organic) and I'm sleeping normal hours.
- My genealogy research has yielded many new and exciting results.
- We've finally paid off our credit cards!
- I posted this previously, to the wrong blog!

CostCo: The Trail of Blood

2009-08-23T03:49:00.004+10:00

Lucy and I ventured to CostCo on Saturday. Big mistake. The store had only been open for a week and was the first for the franchise in Australia, so I expected things too be a little hectic. Well, hectic would have been a help. Instead I found matters to be out of control. After 30 minutes outside, lined up just to purchase a membership, being whipped by icy winds in the shade of the monolothic red CostCo cube, we finally made it inside. Venturing into that place without one of their giant shopping trolleys is the act of a mad man. By the time that I had filled my arms with bulk organic dark chocolate, a giant jar of sun dried tomatoes, two massive bags of Tasmanian mussels and some freshly baked bread, I knew I'd be in trouble.

Well didn't the shit hit me like I'm a fan of the stuff! I casually started towards the checkout, realising then that at the end of line I couldn't quite see the bloody start! So, arms full, I stood and waited, and waited, and felt myself becoming something not all that different to the arms on an analog clock. Yeah, you know they move, but they don't quite seem to be doing much when you're paying attention. This was just like that. At no point did I ever really feel like the line was moving, but after two friggin' hours I finally made it to the check out complete with the chuppa chup offered by the staff to placate my rage.

Two hours in a line and my mussels were losing fluid rapidly. I also felt a bit uneasy, not only about the wait and the weight of my goods, but for the fact that a steady trail of blood was in front of me and sticky beneath my shoes, having been dripped by the number of poor saps who had thought buying any sort of red meat was going to work out well.

Parking wasn't any better. The store's parking lot of course was full, so we had to park next door. That was $5 on top of the $60 membership we paid to join the obedient throngs in praise of the almighty red cube.

So will I go back? Yeah, but not in the next month, and never again on a weekend. I'll also be sure to be ready to buy a shitload of goods in bulk, making sure to bypass all of the weirdo items that seemed to be at every turn of an aisle. Who would have seriously thought that a store would need half an aisle full of nappies for grown women. Either there are a seriously high number of chicks into the whole adult baby thang in Australia, or senior citizens are in worse shape than I had generally imagined.

CostCo has a lot of potential. $5 for a massive bag of mussels leads me to this heavily researched conclusion. But DAMN - does it ever need to manage the crowds better!!

OK, it's after 4am, I've had my food, I no longer feel like I need to go for a jog after waking up at 1am, full of beans. Time to sleep.

18 weeks

2009-08-10T14:03:00.000+10:00

Baby Patten is at 18 weeks and all is well. I'm excited!

AUGHGHHH - CHOOOPTHHHFF

2009-06-18T13:13:00.004+10:00

Swine flu? Regular flu? I don't know, it's one or the other. We've all got it. I suppose we'll know when we head off to the clinic later today or tomorrow.

Oh yeah, the scan - we're 10 weeks in. I saw the baby's heart beat and the head. :)

Big update

2009-06-11T11:36:00.003+10:00

I've been hiding out, and recovering, as opposed to "getting over" the loss of our baby. Maybe it was nature's way of saying that it wasn't the kid's time, and that perhaps something was wrong with the pregnancy. Who the fuck knows. It still hurts.

My life has changed a lot this year. I'm happy, and I'm a lot busier than I once was. I no longer have a lot of spare time on my hands, or even a reasonable amount. That bothers me, but it's something that will in time be ironed out.

A typical day these days sees me wake at 5:30am, head out the door at 6:55am, and take two trains, arriving at one of my two work locations almost on the dot of 8:30am. I work, and I enjoy it, and I'm for the most part in an environment in which I'm allowed and encouraged to develop myself further. It's nice, and certainly a lot more social than in my previous station.

I get home at around 6:30pm, and after a quick chore or two, cook dinner, and by the time I've eaten, or occasionally having bathed my lad, it's 9pm and my bedtime.

Yeah.. I go to bed at 9pm. A biiiig change. No more 3am's, and no more late mornings. I can't stay in bed past 7am on a weekend now, even if given the opportunity. I'm wide awake, and restless.

Weekends are a bit of a struggle. There's just not enough time to do as much as I'd like. I want more time.

My ongoing RMIT studies - are a necessary pain. I don't particularly feel that I.T people are all that logical, or reasonable. Hence programming languages and instructions are as cold and irrational as an ice cube inserted into one's pee hole. Sure, the instructions might make sense to someone with a less than bureaucratic grasp of conversation and communication on a human level, but it's not for the likes of I.

My wife and I need to get out and about. We need to meet some people. Melbourne is a great city, but outside of work, it's very hard to meet people and make friends, unless you spend time either in a social group, club, or are a bar fly. Since I don't go to pubs here, and haven't one anywhere near me, that last option isn't too likely, and I have yet to figure out if I'm a club joining guy, especially after all of the annoyance the Wilderness Society and their constant bombardments caused.

Anyway..

Positives.

1. Last fortnight I went to a book launch for Dr. Jennifer Jones' "Black Authors, White Editors." I was surprised though. The author, whom I had previously spoken with, ended up calling upon me to do the launching! There's a story behind that, but one probably too tedious to anyone not interested in genealogy and my historical ties and obsessions.

2. My bread is improving. It looks great, tastes great, is multi grain, brown, isn't made via the use of a bread maker - and the damn crumbling/fragility problem is getting a lot better (am open to suggestions however).

3. A scan today. Fingers crossed.

4. I think in a brainstorm today that I may have nailed the narrative flow of my book. An issue which had kept me from tackling even a since sentence for a considerable amount of time.

5. I'm well on the track of two fraudulent characters, whom I aim to publicly humiliate for the use of my grandfather's name (more on this when prodded perhaps).

6. I didn't get swine flu from the kid who had it at my work. Yay!

Times, they are a changin'

2009-03-08T12:20:00.002+11:00

A terribly hard week, followed by the best. I'm now a married man, have a wonderful wife, and things are only getting better. It still doesn't take away the pain of loss though.

However, we can only move forward, keep active and occupied.

Tough times

2009-02-21T22:31:00.002+11:00

The most painful word in the English dictionary...

Miscarriage.

Up for air

2009-02-07T10:39:00.004+11:00

Finally a chance to slow down and take a breather!

The last few months have been the most hectic and life changing I've ever experienced. It's been highly enjoyable, but it is nice to have some time now to potter around the house, to work on some hobbies, do some character illustrations for a friend's book, and simply relax without having to be off to the next scheduled activity station in the playground of life.

I'm home alone. Mr. 2.5yrs old is off with his dad, Lucy is an hour away studying and I hve nothing to do except make some pumpkin bread for next week's lunches at work, do a touch of TAFE work, and stuff about, carefree and casual. Hurruh!

Before I do relax completely though, I would like to share an observation:

Melbourne trains are shit.

People in Sydney, Newcastle, Illawarra and the Mountains might complain about Cityrail, but believe me, they have got nothing on Connex for sheer incompetence. The wee before last there were as many as 100 cencellations on the Melbourne network - each day. Much of the blame was put on driver unions and the heat buckling rails, but that's a very poor cop-out. Had Connex and the VIC government bothered to give drivers comfortable conditions in the 40C+ temperatures, and allowed for gaps between rails to ensure they wouldn't buckle (seriously, they are so dumb as to weld rails together down here), there wouldn't be nearly a tenth as many issues to deal with.

I left home before 7:30am yesterday, and for a 50min trip, I didn't make it to work until 9:45am, and that was without the high temperatures and driver issues from the previous week.

Every morning and every evening I have to stand at the edge of the platform, playing door roulette, hoping I am able to guess where the train carriage will stop, so that I can get in first and HOPEFULLY get a seat. If Melbourne had doulbe decked trains there wouldn't be an issue like that anymore. Further, if Connex had trains with flip seats like Cityrail I wouldn't have to face strangers on most occasions, nor would people grumble as they attempt to share the little available leg space.

I like Melbourne a lot more than Sydney, but the latter has nothing on Melbourne's growing issues with public transport, electricity and water - all of which are issues that were supposedly in reverse not so long ago. It's a great place, but it's going to turn to shit soon if matters aren't handled appropriately right now.

The Score

2009-01-25T21:44:00.003+11:00

Back on January 2nd 2008 I posted my list of New Year Resolutions and Hopes. So it's time to take a look back, reflect and see how things panned out for me in 2008.

1. Find THE woman. Not A woman.

CHECK! Not only did I find her - we're getting married in less than a month's time and we've also learnt we have a baby on the way! Quite frankly, after that nothing much else matters. But onto the rest regardless...

2. Souths win number 21.

NOPE! This was a long-shot. One I hope for every year, and will be hoping for yet again in 2009. Go Souths!!

3. Either make living in this town more rewarding, or finally surrender and move to the inner city of Sydney.

SORTA! Well, I did leave for greener pastures, but I didn't surrender either. Melbourne is a happy medium. It provides me with a quality of life similar to that in the Blue Mountains, whilst avoiding the rushed feel and negativity I've always associated with Sydney.

4. Finish my genealogical novel.

NOPE! I didn't finish, but I didn't stand still either. I have delved deeper into the source material than I had previously thought possible and it has lead me to new twists and turns in my writing. Now all I need is more free time.

5. Be a little easier on my brother.

YEP. Now all that's left is for him to be a bit tougher on himself!

6. Learn to play flight of the bumblebee on trumpet, and sound good at it.

NOPE. And living in the city where I can't escape to the bush to practice, I think I'll keep that one on the backburner. Perhaps learning piano (electric and with headphones) might be the better option.

So...

2008-12-03T20:15:00.004+11:00

Life in Melbourne is pretty cool. Apart from the absence of immediate family and close friends, this city has a lot going for it. The suburb in which I'm based is relaxed and very quiet. I'm also a short distance from farms and the bush, as well as the hustle and bustle of the city and the life on Brunswick Street. In all, the transition has been quite a pleasant surprise.

Another plesant aspect I've been exploring of late is my rekindled interest in gardening. It's an area that I am quite proficient, yet have devoted very little time to. This is changing with our small, but enjoyable garden.

Before I arrived here, we had no vegetables growing in the small dirt border that makes up the garden in our unit's courtyard. However, Lucy had been burying a large amount of kitchen scraps, and had managed to turn the once water repellant dust into quite a reasonable strata of topsoil. A good start. I've planted broad beans, peppermint, cherry tomatoes, zucchini, rocket, marjoram, oregano and a few others, and so far everything is moving along at a strong pace. In addition, the food scraps are pulling their own weight, with pumpkins in the tens of dozens sprouting everywhere, along with potatoes, regular sized tomatoes and whatever else I've yet to identify at the seedling stages. With all these positives I've decided to set a goal:

I would like to be able to produce one fifth of the food consumed in tihis house, in our courtyard. It's a big target, especially given the lack of space we have, but foam crates and plenty of potting mix and blood and bone should help bring that back to a workable line.

Here's hoping!

Ch ch changes

2008-11-17T17:32:00.000+11:00

A lot of time has passed, and many things have changed since my last blog update. Last time I wrote, about a month ago, I was living in the Blue Mountains and considering a move south to live with my girlfriend Lucy and her son. Since then I’ve taken the plunge, moved to Melbourne and we’ve also become engaged, tentatively setting a date for a late February wedding in the Mountains. Huzzah!!

I’m comfortable, happy, my fitness is continuing on its ever upward spiral thanks to my switch to an almost completely vegetarian diet, and I’m also enjoying what this city has to offer. I’m embracing Melbourne. It’s a laid back, culturally diverse, welcoming artistically enriching city and it fits with my own approach to life.

Life is very good.

I do miss my folks, brother and his family, regular karaoke and trivia nights and times with my mates in the ‘gow, but the rewards I’m reaping from my move and the satisfaction of being here with my fiancée are making the losses easier to deal with. This move has been a lot easier than I could have imagined.

I’ve lived all over NSW but never interstate. Being in a very close family has always made such a move one that I’d have been very unlikely to consider. It would take someone very special to convince me that it would be a smart move. Thankfully, it came quite easily, and Lucy didn’t have to work to convince me at all.

The Big Launch

2008-10-07T11:38:00.004+11:00

Just prior to this most recent trip to Melbourne Lucy and I attended the premiere of the upcoming SBS documentary series, First Australians, held at the Opera House in Sydney.

Six years in the making, this multi platform project is the most ambitious to be undertaken on Indigenous Australia. The project encompasses seven episodes of landmark television, a substantial online experience, educational and retail DVD, a hard cover pictorial book and a community outreach program. The series First Australians chronicles the birth of contemporary Australia as never told before, from the perspective of its first people. It begins in 1788 in Sydney, with the friendship between an Englishmen (Governor Phillip) and a warrior (Bennelong) and ends in 1993 with Koiki Mabo’s legal challenge to the foundation of Australia. First Australians chronicles the collision of two worlds and the genesis of a new nation. - firstaustralians.com.au

An enjoyable evening, the event kicked off with an opportunity to catch up with some friends and family, along with meeting new people (particularly those whose literary and academic works I am familiar with and admire). Some media personalities amongst the crowd or upon the stage that I was familiar with were Debra Mailman (Radiance), Karla Grant (Living Black - SBS), Peter O'Brien (Water Rats, Flying Doctors etc.. he was dressed like a train robber from the ol' West) and unless Lucy and I were both mistaken and most curiously we also saw Kevin McLoud (Grand Designs - UK), and not to forget that guitarist fellow who played a few years with Mental as Anything and engaged us in conversation for a fair whack of the evening. Nice bloke.. whoever you are!

The presentations made by the directors and producers of First Australians, along with the head of SBS and Jenny Macklin made for a thoroughly enlightening evening, and one that built my anticipation and axcitement for the first episode of First Australians to new highs.

The episode I appear in doesn't screen until I think October 22 or 24, but Episode One starts 12 October, 8.30pm on SBS.

Can't wait.

CUNDALL!!

2008-10-06T18:05:00.006+11:00

Achtung! I have seen Peter Cundall in person. Live. In reality. All is now well.

Really.

On Saturday Lucy and I ventured out into the Melbourne sun, walking toward the light, braving a mild breeze and unruly throngs of black thumbed middle-aged Victorians, hippies and jam sales-women all eager to bathe in the shadow of the awesomeness that is Peter Cundall.

I'd never been to a garden expo before. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, other than greenery, lots of grey haired people (greyer than I) and the occasional tool. It turned out to be quite a fun few hours, where Lucy and I looked into and midly researched our longterm big dream; a sustainable home, environmentally friendly and off the grid (or lightly tethered to).

Plenty to see. There were plants of a myriad different type and more water tanks and cow poo than you could shake a garden wand at. Perhaps my favourite elements of the afternoon (aside from the Cundall) were the lounge chairs designed for outdoor use, suspended from a rope, complete with a foot stool that is suspended from its own rope. Mmmm lazy. I also quite liked the various solar, wind and water related stalls/products, of which I now have a handy bag full of literature to digest. Beyond those, and the brilliant recycled wood photo frames that I bought - there was Peter Cundall.

Peter Cundall is special. A recently retired octogenerian (b. 1927) star of ABC TV's "Gardening Australia", Peter is an icon of Australian backyard culture, but to me he will always be known as the guy who loves shit. Oh yes, I have never seen, heard or known of any soul who could get as excited about compost, cow turds and a bag of blood and bone than this guy. The way he caresses and enthuses about mulch is truly a thing of.. well, interest. Whilst a tad funny, the bloke is a champion. The highlight of seeing him and being the people in the line to get him to sign Lucy's DVD (we missed out as we hit the front) was to see Peter give two little would-be gardeners and fans the biggest hug you've ever seen (plus minor unintentional headbutt). How can ya not love the dude?

Well worth having gone, but jeez - $17 is a bit steep. For that I'd at least expect a packet of seeds (for me) and a doughnut (for Lucy).

Concepts and philosophies regarding art and development – In Brief

2008-09-23T14:19:00.002+10:00

There are few things that interest me more than art. I love art in the broadest of applicable terms, far beyond the narrow, established criteria. I consider art to be an interchangeable term used to denote the driving force behind any and all forms of creativity and endeavour, with sloth and disinterest through self doubt being the primary forces that act as a counter-weight to creativity.

Whilst I am principally a visual artist, I don’t believe that any artist worth their salt should restrict their self entirely to the limited scope of one or only a few areas of study. Everyone is an artist in more than one way, only that some are more focused and thus proficient in their chosen areas of focus and endeavour. To some extent, I consider the way in which some people are set apart as artists to be both naive and unnecessary, and that some are elevated to the lofty title of polymath for excelling in a diverse manner, even more absurd.

I’ve always felt that if a person is proficient in one medium then they realistically should be well on their way to unlocking their talents in other areas as well. To be less confusing, the manner in which I view the flow of an artist from one field to the next is illustrated in the following example:

If you were to take a person who is considered to be artistically barren and with care and quality instruction showed that person how to draw a variety of subjects using a pencil, enabling them to understand the creative processes involved, it would be only a small step to then teach that person how to adequately colour their sketches via the use of coloured pencil or a tool emulating flat colour in Photoshop. From understanding flat colour to then applying shading and understanding how light is utilised in 2D is another manageable step. From there a person who is able to master the techniques behind the pencil should not find the paint brush to be a great task and painting in many ways is no different to colouring in a pencil drawing. The skills inherited in learning how to draw and paint are quite readily transferable to sculpture, industrial design and flower arranging which in turn may lead to a greater appreciation and awareness in areas as diverse as architecture, engineering and building. For further examples that may be seen as extreme, I also see relatively little as a realistic barrier between the art of a musician and that of an author, actor and visual artist in turn. Yes they are all considered art forms already, but generally they are not viewed as interlinked aspects of the same skill set as is being suggested here. Each takes specific skills, but each skill is no more than a matter of concentration, perseverance and rhythm (or timing if you prefer) and differ only in that they are the alternate faces of the same universal tools that are used in every action that we take.

In some situations it can be found that a deficiency in a focus area such as painting for example, can be made up for by strengths in a another quarter, such as being proficient in the art of storytelling and self promotion. Never let it be said that being a bullshit artist is not a true skill. Many of the best known artists of times both modern and ancient are or were imbued with strong oratory promotional skills whilst lacking sufficient development in their visual pursuits. Those who define art by aesthetics and emotion within will argue against that. Whilst controversial, these are views that I am quite happy defend in the face of intelligent criticism, particularly from capable art critics and so-called experts, whom I believe should have been the first of the “useless middlemen” onto Adams’ “B. Ark.”

The hierarchy of how art is taught in the modern world (or the semi-modern Australia) is a bit of a cruel joke, starting with how children are introduced to art in their formative years. More often than not a child’s first experience with painting in a class room is an abysmal failure, regardless of their potential. This is owing to the almost outrageous ignorance exhibited by most teachers who give their students paint brushes that relate to a child’s hand and paper in the same way that a large brush used for house painting would apply to an adult and their canvas. Many kids even at such an early age can be frustrated by such a thoughtless approach to their education, but more often than not will lack the skills to adequately convey their frustration or requirements. I’ve taught children at such ages to paint and draw with relative ease, and much of my successes have been due to having removed the roadblocks placed in their way, rather than any major instruction.

Art instruction within the Australian school system is no more advanced at year 6 than in Kindergarten. Rather than frustration, many children by this point in time have already thrown in the towel. Sometimes their interest can be rekindled via a new and enthusiastic teacher or upon entry to High School and a new environment, but that too relies upon the makeup of the teacher.

Art teachers in High School come in three flavours; there’s the capable artist who is interested in developing the skills of their charges, the incompetent artist who maybe offers the student an outdated textbook introduction to art history, whilst completely neglecting their skill development, and then there is the bullshit artist who although caring for the student’s development as an artist can offer only regurgitated philosophies and sub-par instruction. If the student lacks the drive to facilitate their own development during the high school years, or is unable to access private tuition then more than their chances of progress and continued engagement within the arts are slim.

High School is a critical time, because it makes and breaks and sometimes mutates budding artists in terrible ways. The mutations of which I speak are the larval stages of the bullshit artist and potential “fine art” critics, whose theories and polluting views are to art what creationism and biblical literalism are to the sciences. I despair at times, but then I come back from the edge for one reason – art is a joy, and not a matter for critics to overcomplicate for their own slick fingered requirements.

Book book book

2008-09-19T14:55:00.004+10:00

I'm behind in my reading. I've a pile of books that I've purchased or have been blessed with temporarily that I am due to read but simply haven't had the time as yet to look through. This of course hasn't stopped me going on another book buying spree or two recently.

My nature is that of a compulsive collector. I don't gamble, drink heavily and I don't smoke. My vice has always been the need to go on a spree in search of... something. Giving it some thought, there has always been one thing or another that I've been in search of. With that particular something ranging as my tastes and interests have developed over the years. When I was 5 it was lollies. In 6th grade it was footy cards. At the age of 13 it was comic books. 15 and it was tattoo magazines. Right now it's books.

Not only am I collector, but I'm a hoarder. I have every football and basketball card, comic book, tattoo magazine, CD, DVD, film and gig poster, records, computer magazine, beer bottles, book and genealogical scrap of data I've ever collected - save for those I sold in my late teens in an effort to buy even more collectables. Oh, and the wardrobe worth of material that I palmed off onto my brother safe in the knowledge that he's just as bad in this pursuit as I am.

My collectable obsessions are broken up into sub sections quite easily. All of my collections relate to some of my major interests: art, team sports, technology and history. As such, the above can be seen in the last couple of hauls I've picked up when exploring Melbourne by foot and via Amazon and Ebay, only some of which I've read so far:

True Blue - The History of the NSW Rugby League
HOW Magazine - October 2008
British History - 1815-1906
Earthship - Volume I
Earthship Volume II
Moving the Goal Posts (Souths book)
Oxford Dictionary of Celtic Mythology
The History Today Companion to British History
The Emigrant's Friend (A facsimile of an 1848 guide to the British colonies of Australia)
Whitlam on Australia's Constitution
Wired - The Short Life and Fast Times of John Belushi
Nowhere People (Koori history)
The Other Side of the Frontier (Koori history)
Mapping History - World Religions
The Master (Rugby League)
Krakatoa - The Day the World Exploded
Rum Rebellion (History)
For God's Sake, send the Trackers (Koori history)
Rough Guide - The Universe
Darwin Awards II

..and whatever other crap I can't remember!

Melbourne

2008-09-15T17:48:00.007+10:00

Two weeks in Melbourne and they flew by in the blink of an eye. In-between chasing Ethan around slippery dips, hanging clothes, cooking, washing dishes, spending quality time with my partner Lucy, and venturing into the city, I also had some time to check out a few genealogical details at the Library and VIC archives.

What I found out was quite interesting. Whilst my mother's family ties are limited in Victoria, my dad's are more extensive and showed up some fascinating details. Perhaps the most interesting being that I now know where my height comes from. My folks are both beneath the 6ft mark, whilst I'm 6ft 3. According to a cousin I spoke to, my great grandfather was 6ft 11. Quite a surprise, and a revelation that has me now revisiting the theory that he may have had African origins in addition to his well documented Aboriginal side.

I learnt that my great great grandfather owned 98 acres of land near Moama, 10% of which was sewn with wheat, that my great uncle was training to be a lawyer in the 1930's (unheard of for Aboriginal people in that era) and I unearthed a few more baffling genealogical mysteries.

Beyond my trips to the archives and library, looking through acres of fiche of the Sydney Morning Herald obituaries, some shipping records and electoral rolls, I also managed to dig out enough free time to check out Hellboy II. A fun flick, I quite enjoyed it.

Perhaps the highlight of my stay was pulling Lucy out of her choppy weekend routine and checking out both the Souths v Melbourne Storm game, and then a jaunt to Mount Donna Buang to show Ethan his first glimpse of snow.

Mount Donna Bunag is a bit under an hour north west from Melbourne, in the Yarra ranges past Healesville and close to Warburton. A warm day, we arrived with the expectation that we had probably arrived too late in the season to see any snow, so we took our time enjoying a rainforest walk on a lower slope of the mountain. The rainforest walk was a highlight, although I'm not sure if I was more disturbed by the 20 metre high canopy walkway that seemed less stable than a temporary rock show stage, or the strange photo that Lucy took of a tree that appears to have a few faces in it, peering back at the observer.

Beyond the oddity of the rainforest walk, it was highly enjoyable, and helped Ethan in learning how to count with each of the many steps he climbed. One.. two.. six.. zero.. he's getting there!

At the peak of ole' Donna was a sight we had expected. No snow.. until we looked beyond a shrub in the car park and Ethan found this pitiful excuse for powder...

Looks excited, no?

Anyway, after climbing the observation/suicide platform, we saw that there was still quite a bit of snow down the side of the plateau and we climbed down to explore it. Much better, a nice covering which was more than enough for Ethan and Lucy to make a snowman. Well, kind of...

In all, a great day out and a wonderful two weeks. I can't wait to go back.

Change

2008-09-15T14:52:00.006+10:00

Back to Lithgow after two highly enjoyable weeks in Melbourne and I already miss the place. Well, I don't miss Melbourne much, but I am looking forward to seeing my partner and her lad Ethan again soon.

The two week trip helped me experience a solid taste of what sort of life will await me when I move to Melbourne permanently in November, and I'm very excited for what the future holds after experiencing that taste.

Life in Melbourne and with Lucy is a lot faster paced than what I'm accustomed to, but it is not an uncomfortable difference. I'm not an early morning person, but waking sometimes at 3 or 4am to let a 2 year old into the room to sleep with his mum, and then waking again at 6am and earlier for the start to the day are efforts easily adapted to, at least once I let go of my usual late night routine of reading and writing. Up at 6am, to bed no later than 10.30pm.. it's very different, but my body has appreciated the change.

I'm also liking the overall healthier lifestyle I've slipped into. I now eat very little meat, have had a chance to walk more than an hour each day, spend the weekends out and about, even if it is only to walk to the State Library and locking myself away there reading microfiche, or at VIC Archives giving the staff there a workout.

Perhaps one point that I need to work on however is that especially with my new responsibilities of looking after an extremely energetic 2 year old I also have a lot less time to look after my own hobbies, pursuits and indeed keep up with people outside of the 3 person unit I've happily welded myself into.

Less reading, less emailing and less conversation. It's a good thing that I don't watch TV because I wouldn't have the time for it now even if I wanted.

On the other hand - there's more emotional fulfilment, happiness and I also have a renewed sense of purpose and vigour in regard to the future. I don't believe that I've ever been as happy.

A serious blog post? Yeah whatever next! Later I'll write about what I've actually been filling my time with in Melbourne over the past two weeks.

Hoops Predictions

2008-08-25T19:08:00.005+10:00

On Monday 24 September 2007 I made my predictions for the 07-08 basketball season and now the season in well and truly gone and we're into the pre-season for 08-09. So, how did I do?

Prediction 1: Perth and Cairns to fight out the NBL title.
Well, I bombed with this one. Sydney knocked out Perth in the semis on their way to a 2-3 loss to Melbourne in the finals. Cairns didn't get past the quarter finals. Close, but no cigar.

Prediction 2: Nathan Jawai to be Rookie of the Year.
Yep, well this one was an easier one to work with. Jawai not only went on to win rookie of the year, but was also drafted into the NBA, signing a 2-year contract with Toronto.

Prediction 3: Patrick Mills to be the first Aboriginal/T.I to draw NBA interest.
Relatively unheard of when I made the prediction, I was on the right track but didn't quite guess right. After scoring 15 and then 20 points against the US senior team in the Olympics, Patty is most definitely on the NBA radar, but he was beaten to the punch of being drafted by his cousin, Nathan Jawai. So prediction 2 knocked out 3.

Not a bad effort, but I could do better.

For the 08-09 season my predictions are thus:

1. The grand final to be won by Adelaide and played against either Sydney or Melbourne.
2. Aaron Bruce to be NBL Rookie of the Year (Luke Schenscher being runner-up).
3. Andrew Ogilvy to be drafted to the NBA in the first round.
4. Only one out of Joe Ingles, Aron Baynes or Luke Nevill to be drafted in the second round, with the other two going undrafted.
5. Patrick Mills to stay in college for another year.

Pfft Souths

2008-08-13T02:54:00.002+10:00

Season is over I suppose. Time to plan for next year and get some sleep. At least I have the game v Melbourne @ Melbourne to look forward to.

Stop the Olympics, I want to get off!

2008-08-13T02:32:00.004+10:00

The Olympics are broken, and assuredly - I can fix them. Take swimming for a first up example. An interesting enough sport, but medals are handed out left, right and centre, simply because there are a huge number of events. Let's fix that and reduce the number to something a little less, well.. fucked! Let's keep the 100m to prove the fastest person in a sprint and a 5km race to prove the person with the best endurance over a long distance. After all, events like the butterfly are ridiculous novelty events, which in reality are no less ludicrous than a track race by people only running on the tips of their toes or perhaps walking around on their hands. And how about the Medley event? What in the wide world of sports is that all about? Perhaps the event should be re-titled something a little more appropriate such as schizophrenia in water. If a race were to be held where all of the competitors were to race whilst wearing heavy gorilla costumes I'll retract my comments and give swimming my full endorsement.

Equestrian events are another random slice of dull crap sorely in need of revitalization. The answer is simple - If a horse breaks its leg and has to be put down, then so should its owner. Turn the shooting of riders into a major segment of the event, regardless of what they have or haven't done. Anyone game enough to wear one of those outfits probably deserves as much lead passing through their body as is scientifically possible. I would also advocate the idea of horses having to leap over giant piles of dung, or to perhaps trot across rickety rope bridges that have crocodiles in the water far below. All of the above is all the more necessary when either of these travesties again interrupt my viewing of a Boomers basketball game.

ARGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!#@%$!

2008-08-10T23:22:00.002+10:00

Well fucking done, Channel 7!! The Olympics are here and I've spent the last hour and a half sitting around waiting for Australia v Croatia in the basketball and instead I've had to watch swimming HEATS and Gymnastics, neither of which features Australians?!?!! Fark me dead!! 5 digital channels, all owned by 7, and all showing the same fucking thing!

FUCK!!!!

Ebay Challenge

2008-08-07T13:48:00.007+10:00

This is me accepting Sim's challenge to find the weirdest ebay auctions. Today's theme: Why imagination is sometimes a bad thing.

1. Genital shaped Tangelo, grown in S.E Queensland. Bidding starts @ $50. Does one bite such a thing? All sorts of horrific images come to mind when imagining someone eating this junk-tastic piece of nasty.

Penis Gourd from Papua New Guinea, bidding starts @ $40. Be the life of the party, especially during winter, when you show up for cocktails or dinner wearing only this conversation piece. Ladies love a man in a penis gourd covering.

Lolita Costumes! Bidding starts @ $49.95. Dress your captives up in one of a variety of lolita costumes available. Styles range from Japanese Sailor/School girl and Card Captor Sakura to Little Red Riding Whore. Don't let your pre-teen dungeon prisoners spend their last days wearing anything less vile!!

True meanings

2008-07-21T14:44:00.004+10:00

Yes, the true key to success with women has been charted in vague and teasing fashion, and I am happy to peel back the layers of fog and expose the sordid truth. Enjoy yourself!

Step by Step - New Kids On The Block
and what they really meant...

(Chorus)
Step one
We can have lots of fun (Getting high on stolen horse tranquillizers)
Step two
There's so much we can do (Screwdriver + lack of intelligent ideas + pee hole)
Step three
Its just you and me (And peanut butter, the family dog and an audience of thousands. Wave to the camera baby!)
Step four
I can give you more (I've soiled myself and it is now your life-long duty to change me)
Step five
Don't you know that the time has arrived (To sheepishly admit giving you Hepatitis C!)

It's so obvious.

Evolution

2008-07-15T19:40:00.001+10:00

In the year 2050 we will all be exactly like this.

How would your funeral go down?

2008-07-15T12:48:00.002+10:00

Seriously, would your funeral be yet another dull, painful affair that you yourself would arrange to have cancelled on your behalf? Not me. I read with much joy my mate Sim's own funeral plans over on her blog - Don't Step On The Mome Raths (see the link at the side of this page), where her appeal to her friends and family for a fun and memorable funeral was made. I liked what I read and it also appealed to me due to a number of thoughts I've had over the years re my own eventual demise.

I'm not one for religion, solomn affairs or everyone dressed in black. I'm also quite nervous about the idea that potentially I might be buried when my mind has yet to cease functioning. I blame YOU, Jeff Bridges!

So how's it going to go down?

My plain iron bark coffin, held together by rusty nails and draped with both the Aboriginal and South Sydney Rabbitohs flags will sit outdoors, even if the weather gods are performing a teary 20 cannon salute, and all whilst the funeral party kicks off complete with kegs, pizza and goanna.

No priest. No religious iconography or music.

I will have my eulogy read in a very serious tone by a person doing their best to hold their dignity in check - in a Batman costume (Yes, that would be you, Rod).

Everyone will either wear Hawaiian shirts or Souths jerseys.

No flowers. Fruit would be nice though. Or maybe a bonsai tree.

In times past I have considered that maybe I should cover all the bases, by maybe having A catholic Priest, some druids, a viking funeral at sea, monks and some Indian holy men, but screw all of that. If there's anything on the other side (which I highly doubt) it is they who will need the insurance when I arrive, because there's more than a few bones that will need to be picked before I unpack my bags.

I've thought in the past that perhaps being buried with an oxygen tank, mask, torch, batteries, phone, 7ft aerial, saw, food, water and drill might be a good idea. After all, there is a valid and creepy reason for there being such a term as "saved by the bell."

I'm still working on what music I'd like played, but for the final tune as my coffin is lowered I would like the one that goes "na na na-na, hey hey hey, goooodbye!!!"

Kegs on. A band at the after party.

Busy signal

2008-06-24T14:19:00.003+10:00

It's been a hectic time lately and I happily added to the load of responsibilities and events yesterday when attending the Souths v Titans game at Telstra. Much fun was to be had, but it almost felt like I had to be punished before the appropriate endorphins were released.

The trip to Sydney is long, but with the company of Mr Hemingway I was able to break up the monotony and time passed quicker than it usually does in such a circumstance. I have been neglecting my reading lately, due to to my recently hectic schedule, but it was good to get back into my current book, even if I was left with what I believe will have been the saddest, most depressing part of the book. I couldn't bring myself to read on beyond that point for the day, especially given the distractions coming from the seats adjacent to me.

A woman across the aisle from me, seated next to the window was making noises, and I'm still somewhat baffled as to what the cause was. Was she grieving? Some people have annoying laughs and fewer grieve in an irritating manner, but I believe this particular woman may have achieved it with great success. Her sudden and sharp inhalation pockmarked the air and drove me to distraction. When not making her weird little sounds her koala-like male companion would make the most horrendous, wet, slimy kissing sounds upon her person - loud and crass. When in my annoyance I did bother to look, I saw a skinny man clinging to a fragile idiot in the manner that a koala does to a gum tree. It was obscene in its stupidity.

I'm not normally irritated so easily, and I'm not generally without compassion, but there was something about this particular couple that made me feel anger and great annoyance. At times, I wasn't sure if the pair of them were consoling each other or that the woman was trying to mask her excitement at where the man's finger may have been slickly slinking within the tangled ball of annoyance that they had become. Was it ecstacy? Maybe, maybe not, but in either case public transport isn't exactly the place for such intense emotion or lewd displays of spit smearing.

What could have topped that off? Perhaps it was the fuckwit behind me who had decided that they couldn't live without a TV for an hour or two and decided that ear plugs aren't worth the convenience they are to other passengers. I reaaaally didn't want to have Fran Drescher's voice and a laugh track interrupting Hemingway.

So..

I arrived at the stadium and after seeing a couple of mates, Sim rang with impeccable timing. Meet at the usual place for our usual exchange of goodies and quick and fun conversation.

Wow.

I enjoy our exchanges of film and music, but I don't think I was ever prepared for the stack I was handed, and in the manner that it was handed to me. I was given the coolest bag - ever. Full to the brim with DVDs and made to help keep all my camera cords and bits and pieces organised. The perfect size, and the outside is covered with pineapples (because I tend to put pineapple on much of what I eat), and celery inside it (because celery is evil and best hidden from view), even if Sim did introduce me to a recipe that makes celery actually taste quite good!

Fun and games over and after trying the horrible parsnip chips and the delicious choc coated goji berries that Sim brought, and then left with me, off she went to sit in her usual seat and left me to it.

Game time. A sea-sawing affair and an enjoyable encounter - ruined. The referee did his best to fuck it up and one of the touch judges gave the worst display of an official since I saw a try awarded in u19's at Newcastle when the bloke I tackled over the try-line failed placed the ball lower toward the ground than my knees. In the end, despite every effort to help the opposition, the referee awarded Souths a kick at goal with 2min to go, with us behind by 1 point. A penalty that he'd never have been able to avoid awarding. Souths win by 1.

A great win, but in the end its a pretty hollow win. It doesn't quite compare when you find one of your mates you catch up with at games is in hospital with a tumour the size of a tennis ball inside his skull.

The trip back home wasn't too bad. The train line had track work, so it was a bus for half the trip. A woman on the bus made complaint though, and fair enough as we weren't exactly travelling along the most efficient route and we stopped out the front of one train station for 5min for no apparent reason other than the silly time table. So good on her for speaking up. However, it's a shame in the way she addressed the issue. She spoke with the driver and the cityrail employee in the first seat in an aggressive and condescending manner. She spoke in regard to her circumstances and 12 hours workload per day. It was easy to feel empathy, but it quickly became very hard when her aggressive tone and lack of people skills saw her ripping into what was basically nothing more than a pair of shit kickers (a term meant with no disrespect). Yes a complaint is valid, but why not rip into the people in charge?

Being hostile and speaking in a manner which places one in a position to be condescending and rude is no way to go about things. One passenger at the back of the bus said "sit down lady" and that drew the typical school teacher response, and a cry of "I have every right, and I'm doing this as much for you." Fair enough, but when another commended her as she stepped off the bus, she said "finally, someone with the guts to back me up" I considered ripping into her myself. The woman had the right idea, the wrong approach, a child-like view of her environment and certainly was in no position that she deserved support, as much that she deserved the right to speak. That she referred to being from Sydney and an outsider in the mountains where she now lives also drew upon my annoyance, as it was clear that she felt that Sydneysiders are a particular breed above country types.

It's a shame, but some of the most obviously intelligent people are also incredibly thick when it comes to dealing with the real world, away from study and work.

Haha

2008-06-14T14:11:00.001+10:00

Blog entry!

2008-06-02T15:02:00.004+10:00

I do enjoy blogging - despite the long gaps in-between each post. One of the reasons for that lately has been that I've an alternate concept brewing inside my head, and my head being at the very core of that concept.

Instead of writing random posts on whatever crap I'm presently interested in, and throwing those in with my every day dealings, I'm considering a more refined and charted course, whereby I might endeavour to chart my own brain and the philosophies I hold. A dummies guide to my thoughts if you will.

A good idea or perhaps an invitation to disaster? I suppose time will tell.

So, do I continue on with this blog, or do I split it in half?

I'm not really sure what particular purpose Playing Zod might render once I've switched my major rants to my brain blog. I will have to give that some measured consideration. For one, I'm not sure that a blog that is entirely dedicated to what I've done in any given week is worthwhile.

Time spent well

2008-05-21T01:51:00.006+10:00

So, what do you do when you go to the pub? Every Thursday and Saturday when I go, I play trivia and I spend most of that time drawing on the question sheets during any lull in the entertainment. Most of my friends souvenir those sketches and weird doodles, but a few make their way back home with me. So, I thought I might scan a few and present them here, for your bemusement..

Don't ask me to explain any of these. I have no idea what I'm drawing at the pub, and sometimes I don't even know once I've finished. Let's just blame the Black Russians and never again speak of this.

Walkies

2008-04-11T13:51:00.002+10:00

I'm about to head for a walk up the mountain, whilst there's still some sunshine and the air isn't like myriad layers of frozen pain against my lungs. I need the exercise. Perhaps outwardly I don't, but I can feel the ugly building up inside, ready to burst the squishy balloon that I'm slowly becoming.

Wish me luck. Send up a pair of flares and some other slacks if I fail to return!

Why am I awake?

2008-04-10T23:48:00.003+10:00

I've been thinking bout starting a new blog. It could be written from a dog's perspective. Perhaps completely written in woofs, and with pictures of lots of bitches. Oh wait, never mind. There's already a lot of guys who write blogs like that. Women too.

Little known fact #1.
I once actually tried to build the world's worst website, and failed.

I had an idea, in about 1997, for a website so utterly bad, that it would trap people in a maze of java pop-ups, pictures of women's armpits, bright pink and lime japanese blinking text, and jpgs of jpg placeholders and so many frames that it would look like a.. framey thingy.

It never worked though. It must have set off every alarm and notice to the host server that it never lasted more than an hour each time I loaded it up.

A shame. I know the world needs more glowing neon armpit pics with built in love boat midi files.

LOL

2008-04-10T20:45:00.002+10:00

Zod says:
I'm looking for something to blow $40 on ebay
Zod says:
any ideas?
Beck says:
dvd? cd?
Zod says:
dvd might be a good idea
Zod says:
something I can't get in regular stores maybe
Beck says:
good idea..
Beck says:
if I had $40 to blow I'd go looking for that anime dvd i cant seem to find any where
Zod says:
which one is that?
Beck says:
hang on.. just need to load my spreadsheet

Maybe it's just my sense of humour alone, but hey it cracked me up. Beck does geek good.

Super ideas!

2008-04-10T18:23:00.005+10:00

Umbrellas with vibrator handles - Good for when it's wet both indoors and out, and handy for shaking the rain off!

Edible underwear with built in laxatives - Because you need to be taught a lesson. Eating underwear is stupid!!

Renewable marriage licenses - Most people aren't mature enough for lifetime licenses any more. If they ever were.

1-hole golf courses - because 18 holes worth of destroyed wilderness and animal habitat is ridiculous. Mark Twain was right.

Inflatable half-humpback whales - Sold only in Japan.

Australian Liberal Party Showbags - A child's introduction, complete with bile flavoured lip balm , blank history book with pen, 24k gold bobble head Jesus, and 1000 ft of red tape.

Now GO - spring forth and make these a reality!!

Yes!

2008-04-09T01:21:00.001+10:00

Article link

Hopefully they tour.

Dictionary revisions

2008-04-08T22:49:00.004+10:00

Welcome to the Bastard Dictionary of the Apocalypse, aka: John's guide to frigged and expired words.

Today's entry is:

Hero (From the latin "Here, ya zero" - "to award unnecessary praise and stature")

A person who survives - an avalanche, plane crash or other event, generally by no significant action of their own.
A person who performs a clutch, last moment play whilst participating in a sporting or social event - see basketball, football, knitting etc.
Someone who plays air guitar really well.

Fashion

2008-04-07T16:00:00.002+10:00

The styles for this winter's fashion elite are in..

Civilization

2008-04-01T14:48:00.001+11:00

Sometimes I have to wonder about this species of ours. I look on in depressed bewilderment at the way in which humanity pulls in a myriad of directions, never striving for a common goal or to better our lot on a global scale. Petty rivalries and jealousies are created every day and often thrive until replaced by another equally pathetic quarrel. Language is always the first tool to be utilized in helping fools differentiate between themselves and others. It's worse when words become a tool in such a manner, where it is non intentional.

One particular word that is unintentionally used, for the greater part, as a divider, is "civilization." Whilst not readily obvious to the vast majority, the usage does become clear when you are on the receiving end of classification, in the negative sense.

What is civilization?

According to a typical faceless online dictionary, civilization is:

noun

Definition:

1. highly developed society: a society that has a high level of culture and social organization

2. advanced development of society: an advanced level of development in society that is marked by complex social and political organization, and material, scientific, and artistic progress

3. advanced society in general: all the societies at an advanced level of development considered collectively

I would argue that historically the word has been applied sparingly in any of the contexts noted above. No, instead I find the term to be one used primarily as a means of condescension. If a culture or society is different, it's been far too common a case where integrity and willingness to develop a thorough understanding have been thrown out the window, in favour of condescending generalisations, meant only to place the known societies on a pedestal, above those cultures and societies mistaken for being primitive. Perhaps "civilization" should be replaced with "complication" as a far more logical means for differentiation.

Whilst European civilization has more often than not claimed the high ground, it has done so through cultural and social ignorance and by being totally oblivious to every other civilization on Earth. Indeed, it has inherited much of its prosperity on the back of the ingenuity of the civilizations it has so often mimicked, dominated or poured scorn upon. Having said this, the Europeans are far from being alone in this form of bigotry, as every major power has done and will continue to do the same. The ancient Greeks thought themselves superior to the rest of the known world, the Romans then superseded them and thought the same. Europe thought itself better than Asia, whilst Asia Minor and the Chinese both assumed their superirity to the West, whilst entertaining macro struggles within their own regions. One can only imagine what the ancient Babylonians and Egyptians thought, whilst now America, China, Christianity, Islam and Europe all are pulling at one another, and failing to get anywhere.

Getting back to the crux of the matter, it's the usage of the word "civilization" that I am forced to question. So often my own culture is targeted, yet the terminology is used as a throwaway device without any substance. Is the Western World really more civilized than Aboriginal Australia, and has it ever been? The answer is always a clear - no.

In 1788 when the first steps toward a multicultural Australia were taken, Aboriginal Australia was seen as primitive, yet the truth was quite the opposite. Whilst technologically poor, the fact is that the continent was home to numerous cultures and a society that had evolved into a highly functional and efficient machine - as could be expected given the 60,000 continuous years of development and refinement that were possible.

Aboriginal Australia evolved to meet the requirements of the environment of which it was a part. As the early European settlers found in their struggles, developing Australia was never going to work, until they had at their disposal the full resources of Europe and the world.

Australian soil is not suitable for sustaining crops without fertilization, which could have only come from non indigenous livestock. No Australian animal could ever have pulled a plough, and without beasts of burden there was never any reason to have made a wheel. To this day, no indigenous plants are a sizeable and sustainable cash crop, other than Macadamia nuts.

Without a means to cultivate crops there was never a reason or any particular logic for people to build permanent homes in most parts of Australia. Whilst there were some seasonal village settlements in S.E Australia, for those communities that farmed eels, or lived by large water courses, those are generally ignored by the history books. Despite roaming from one set camp to another, each tribe did have ownership over a particular tract of land within a clearly defined boundary. Calling an Aboriginal Australian a nomad would be the same as calling a farmer the same for maintaining livestock on one of the larger Australian cattle stations, which in cases rival the size of Britain and some of the smaller US states.

Technology develops where there is a need, and where resources allow for it. In Australia's case, it would take outside resources to advance Australian technology.

Socially and culturally however, it could be argued that few cultures can rival the organisational structures in place within traditional Aboriginal societies. It was, and in some cases still is far more advanced than is given credit.

Where the Europeans often saw what they termed a lack of civilization, they also equated it with a lack of intelligence of those being studied. Which again, was a foolish notion, carried only to improve a collective and ignorant ego.

I don't like civilization as a word. It's as superfluous as other outdated and ridiculous notions such as race and the study of phrenology. It makes me cringe and wonder at the intent of the individual using it. I suppose for me it is one of those words that can trigger an alarm to go off, and force me to tread lightly. Although I would say that, as I have "the brain-pan of a Stagecoach tilter."

Amusing keywords

2008-04-01T00:35:00.004+11:00

I've been keeping an eye on the searches that people do to find my blog (via an account at statcounter.com) and it's pretty darn amusing to say the least (to me anyway).

In no particular order, I give you the top 10 weirdest search terms that have lead people to my blog..

leather bar trivia
Half man half bird
morrissey is a twat
Super dickery
happy fuckers club
herpes zod
I fucking hate phones
zod woman
noony noony typewriter
baby rabbits-grow hair?

I'm not really sure what to make of most of those. I don't ever recall writing about a leather bar, or Morrissey. I did make a joke about herpes once, but what that has to do with General Zod, from Superman comics/movies?!??

What ever the Happy Fuckers Club is, it sounds pretty good.

Go Souths!

2008-03-31T18:23:00.003+11:00

As previously promised - a photo of me in my first Souths jersey/jumper. The expression isn't for the jersey, it's for being stuck in pre-school at Maclean in Northern NSW, having my photo taken with a bunch of kids I couldn't stand. Ahh memories!

Fun exercise

2008-03-24T13:30:00.004+11:00

So, I don't have a drawer beside my bed, but having read and enjoyed the list of what's in Sim's top drawer, I feel compelled to do the same.

So to the amusement of all, here's what cluttered crap one would find on the desk in front of me:

A giant red soup mug, which I drink my tea and coffee from
A tall middy glass
An empty bottle of benadryl, to ward away passing airborne illnesses
Vouchers from the local Workers Club
A printer, Epson 1270, which prints up to A3+ size
My Rabbitohs library bag from kindergarten
An A4 drawing tablet, bought cheap from Aldi's
White Ipod
Speakers, which only purpose are to act as a port for my headphones
2 Spindles of blank CDs
$9.20 in silver
Wide screen Asus monitor, 19 inch
PC, custom built, black case with the side ripped off for quick access
mp3/avi player, a Christmas present, filled with Family Guy episodes
A huge pile of photographs behind my monitor, all waiting to be scanned and cleaned
A booklet on Tarot cards, to help with the design of the deck I'm making for my portfolio
Superman movie DVD (original 70's one, not that Routh shit)
Steak knife
Office XP CD, along with about 20 other random discs
Phillips head screwdriver (2, because one always goes missing)
A lamp, which I hate, because it gives me headaches
Sewing machine oil
A green plastic milkshake cup, because any smaller cup is wasting my time
A can of furniture polish, being mocked by the mess on my desk
Waitresses album - "Wasn't tomorrow wonderful" (vinyl)
Scanner, A4 IBM
Twisties crumbs
A fork I bent in half without even using mind powers
energy saving lightbulb
My old mobile phone
marriage certificates from the 1840's in England
Sketch pad
3 pens, including one for the drawing tablet
Batman comic from 1986, in mylar bag with backing board
Time Magazine (9-11 issue) in mylar
Ticket to last week's South v Bulldogs game
Various pieces of mail
Whatever else is in the pile of photos

Quite obviously I need to tidy up and decide on a filing system beyond putting stuff behind my monitor. A good thing my work desk is an old dining room table. Even better that my chair is a big comfy couch, with my mouse sitting on a stool beside me.

Random

2008-03-24T03:00:00.004+11:00

I don't really understand the whole logic behind toilet paper with cute patterns on it. Maybe I'm not hip enough? I'm not sure that wiping my arse with a piece of repetitive lo-fi art is all that appealing to me, especially if it features something like a smiling teddy bear, or perhaps a dolphin.

Yeah that was random. So is the fact that I've been thinking about relationships, the lack of a current one, and the fact that maybe I've placed way too much emphasis on finding a partner, rather than just living and enjoying life ahead of that goal. A mate tonight told me that I try too hard, and it's hard to disagree. Maybe it's time to quit trying and to let anything that might possibly happen just come to me, instead of always chasing it.

Whilst I may only ever date people who are my "type" and that I see a lot in common with, going with logic rather than emotion, it's the part where once I've made a decision that the emotion takes over, and I do tend to let it burn unchecked.

Time comes when even the most passionate ideas can be overrun by vapid and inane motion. No more. I suppose it's time to look after myself and quit worrying about tomorrow, and stop neglecting the possibilities for today.

Sun will be up soon. I should probably get to bed..

Happy Chocolate Day, fuckers!!

2008-03-23T14:03:00.003+11:00

Yeaster: The time of the year when we celebrate the savage ritual killing of a man with a yeast infection, 200 years ago, by a horde of brown rabbits adorned in brightly coloured battle armour. As a tribute to their savage successes in battle we celebrate by eating their unborn young.

The life cycle of the Easter Bunny is perhaps one of the more complex aspects of religion and biology ever devised. It's right up there with the Xenomorph and the butterfly for complexity, i.e. a domesticated rabbit and a rooster copulate, and their offspring is either a stillborn somewhat waxy but delicious brown rabbit, or an undeveloped embryo within an egg consisting of the same material as that of the sibling stillborn rabbit. So, never having seen one of the eggs hatch, do the brown rabbits grow hair, or will an occasional egg actually survive the refrigeration process and being wrapped in metal and thus produce a new rabbit?

It's a slow day. Can you tell?

The week has been fun though. Losing in a tight game at Thursday pub trivia, enjoying my TAFE studies and then there was Saturday..

Whilst the football was shit, catching up with Sim was a lot of fun. Although brief, it's a blast and helps makes the trip worthwhile when the team lets me down and I have a long trip home.

When I say long, I mean long. I was at Lidcombe station at about 10pm, where I asked what time the next service through to the Blue Mountains was. About 10.30 said the City Rail employee. So, I waited. Nothing. I caught the train to Parramatta, where I found that no services for the mountains would have stopped at Lidcombe at all that night. I waited at Parramatta until about midnight before catching another train into the mountains, to Katoomba, as it would only be going to Mount Victoria rather than Lithgow. I stopped at Katoomba because it has a decent waiting room and more vending machines than Mount Vic, which at night is like a morgue.

So, I stood around in the damn tunnel until about 2.30am because the waiting room was locked, whilst the station workers all sat in their nice warm office watching TV and having hot drinks. What arseholes.

I finally stepped through my front door at 4.01am.

Tired, but I ended up awake until 6am, as a basketball game I wanted watch was on. Hah.. yet another losing team.

Sesame Street - Capital I

2008-03-17T15:09:00.001+11:00

Yeah.. odd memories that just pop back into the head at random or with a little prompting..

Sorry?

2008-02-02T12:48:00.000+11:00

The Aussie Government has finally decided to offer an apology to the Stolen Generations, and it's about time.

It's a reasonable enough gesture to make. It's human and shows the sort of compassion for fellow human beings who were wronged that the Howard Government would never have It's also the right thing to do, and for a number of genuinely fair reasons.

People of varying backgrounds are removed from their parents and extended families every day, but not as a smokescreen for an assimilation policy, meant to feed a slow form of genocide. Children are removed for the wrong committed by parents, and not for the colour of skin or cultural heritage. It's true that many people in government agencies since the 1800's have genuinely had the best intentions in mind when dealing with Aboriginal people, but the best intentions can at times be the genesis of the most heinous of crimes, as history has proven on countless occasions.

My own family provides for an excellent case study in the effects felt in Aboriginal communities regarding the generations that were removed.

My great grandfather was born circa 1874 in the Upper Murray region of Victoria. In about 1883 he was taken from his family, never to see them again, to be placed on a Christian mission in S.W Victoria. At that point in time whilst the intentions were honourable to give Aboriginal people an education there really is no excuse to have destroyed a family in such a manner. For all intent and purpose my great great grandfather became an orphan, and all for the sake of an education that focused heavily on Christianity, with reading and writing as an afterthought.

By the age of 13 in 1886, three year after having been taken, my great grandfather was cut free from his rudimentary education/indoctrination and then forced into working as a farm labourer. This was standard policy for all male Aboriginal children aged 13 and older. The policy incidentally was introduced in the same year, 1886.

After being moved to another mission/concentration camp, still in S.W Victoria, my great grandfather was allowed the opportunity to finally move elsewhere in about 1901, moving back to the Murray River, and a mission near Moama. There he met the daughter of an Aboriginal man who was one of only a handful who had been allowed to purchase his own land. They married in 1902.

Things went well for a while, until conditions began to deteriorate. Children and adults alike had a high mortality rate and disease spread through the community. Of my great grandmothers 16 children, only 6 survived. Land that the people had successfully cultivated and that had allowed for the community to be self sustainable was taken away and awarded to neighbouring white farmers. The community then went into great decline and became a burden on the government.

Whilst my great grandparents then moved to greener pastures in the NSW town of Wyalong, where my grandfather and his siblings were allowed the rare opportunity of a high school education, things were not as comfortable for my great grandmother's two sisters and their children still on the dwindling mission station on the Murray.

The early 1900's saw my great aunt's four daughters stolen from her. This was despite the fact that she was an assistant school mistress, had a husband gainfully employed, that she spoke 3 languages fluently (English, French, Yorta Yorta) and also trained as a midwife and helped deliver many of the successful births in her community. In the autobiography of one of her daughters the reader is shown the terror and heart rending loss as experienced through both mother and daughters eyes and followed the mothers years of documented struggle to regain her children.

The truly saddening aspect of this small slice of history is that the occasional successes of some of the stolen children are used by some as justification, and to promote the idea that policies were ever reasonable. Such logic is based on a loose understanding of matters, discounting of history and media spin as dictated by unsympathetic.

My great aunt's children are again an excellent example. They gained their education whilst with their family and then were placed in a training camp for domestic servants, far from their parents for no viable reason. There they sure enough were taught the multiplication tables, but a number also learnt about the pains of rape and other forms of physical and mental abuses, at the hands of often unskilled workers. When old enough, those girls (like their male counterparts learning to be stockmen, regardless of being from the city or country) were then sent out to upper middle class white families as low wage domestic servants, whose wages were then kept in trust whilst only being allowed sixpence as pocket money. The majority of those people who for all intent and purpose were slaves never did see their wages that were kept in "trust." That is why reparations are an important part of any government apology.

Despite those hardships those four girls did go on to make something of themselves. But not without seeing the trauma claim one of them in a suicide and another attempted suicide. One founded a college and became an author, another an author and co creator of a television series, and another the matriarch of a family whose achievements range from sports star to playwright, academic and novelist, whilst founding an Indigenous medical service and co-founding a legal service.

Despite the pains inflicted upon those four girls and many of their cousins in varying family lines, the barbaric assimilation and destruction practices remained in vogue until the mid 1970's. Despite my fair skin I missed being removed by less than 5 years. My father only escaped removal in the 1930's to 40's by being taken by his mother to Boys Town at Engadine, where her work in the kitchens and friendship with the school's founder saw that her son would remain unmolested by government policy. Sadly, that didn't save my father's six sisters. They followed in the footsteps of my great aunts children, being forced into slavery a generation earlier. There at the camp they weren't short for the company of family. It's no surprise that those girls who were most heavily traumatised are those that have commonly passed those unresolved issues and developmental pains to their own children.

Again another generation, and their children too were in some cases removed. And again there were suicides and those who drank themselves into oblivion to forget their pains and memories.

I don't think that the average Aussie should feel guilt, but empathy is most certainly something that more should feel as they are allowed to learn more of the truth. As in my prior post regarding Australia Day, I believe the government must take responsibility, as they represent Australia's past as much as they do Australia's present and future. They are leading a nation that has benefited in no small way from the injustices committed against Aboriginal people, for well meaning and ignoble reason. Acknowledging and regretting the mistakes of the past is as important as taking pride in the strides that have been made, because examining those mistakes and understanding them is the only way forward for all.

Back in the saddle

2008-01-29T00:54:00.000+11:00

So, I'm back into dating again after giving it a bit of a spell. What triggered my new found interest and enthusiasm is the fact that for a moment in time I pondered the possibility of dating someone I consider to be a good mate, and not just someone I'd recently met, as per usual. That's generally reasonable enough, but when it comes down to it - I just don't think it's a smart idea. It's just too risky. So yeah, can that idea. I won't even consider such a thing in the future.

Not a problem, I'm still in the saddle and still looking and hopeful and have met someone new.

Not sure what it is about women from out west, but that's where my current thoughts roam. It's very early days with the new interest, and maybe I'm not even the woman's type, but our conversations are interesting, and a lot of fun. That's a pretty good start. I won't get too excited just yet, but so far so good.

Australia Day

2008-01-26T14:56:00.000+11:00

National Aboriginal Day of Mourning, January 26, 1938. On the right is my grandfather, my grandmother with children, including my father.

It's January 26 - Australia Day.

It's a great idea, but I've never been able to celebrate it given its particular timing. That lack of enthusiasm for the day is a fact that sometimes many people find hard to accept and have sometimes been somewhat aggressive in addressing. I can understand that, and I appreciate that the day holds great meaning for the majority of Australians, but at the same time I wonder why there is not much tolerance for differing views? I don't expect others to embrace my stance, but I do believe that the logic behind it if heard out is worthy at least of some tolerance if not understanding.

Unlike in most other countries Australia's national day of celebration is not held on the day of its founding, rather it celebrates the founding of a penal colony (New South Wales) in January 1788. The colony is one that in practice encapsulated the eastern half of the Australian continent. The colony eventually went on to be sub divided into several further colonies (Tasmania nee Van Diemen's Land, Queensland nee Moreton Bay, New South Wales and Victoria nee Port Phillip) which finally reunited as a nation and Commonwealth on January 1901.

So why isn't January 1 considered as a more appropriate day for celebration? Well the obvious answer is that Australia historically has been an Anglo Celtic dominated nation, and quite rightly their descendants (myself included) take pride in how they have helped shape this country. But Australia is a multicultural nation, with a history that has been shaped as much by the many other waves of immigrants that have come to these shores, those that have no ties to New South Wales or its colonial and penal history. What interest is there for the 60,000 years of history that Indigenous Australia brings to the table on this date?

When this subject is raised it invariably is seen as an attack by an Aboriginal person who refuses to let go of the past and embrace being Australian, when the reality is closer to the opposite. The injustices of the past committed against Aboriginal Australia are important to remember, but they don't figure too greatly in this particular view point that I hold. Even so, I find it offensive when issues such as the Stolen Generations are trivialised in such a debate or argument, given that no Aboriginal person alive today has not been adversely affected by such government policy. If not directly, then through the trauma wrought upon mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, cousins and kin. I personally check all of the above boxes save for my mother.

I have ancestors that arrived in Australia on the first convict fleet. I also have ancestors that were already here. For the latter people the arrival of the first fleet was not a positive, whilst later developments in European and Aboriginal relations were.

Australia Day should be a day for all Australians to celebrate, and I believe it should have as much meaning to the average Vietnamese or Italian immigrant or Aboriginal person as it does to a 6th generation Australian of English or Irish convict stock, and not via acceptance of the status quo, but through looking to be truly inclusive and respectful. The arrival of the first fleet and the founding of New South Wales should of course be marked on this day and celebrated in its own right, and aimed at those whom it is relevant to.

To those of you celebrating the day, I hope you have a great time, but forgive those of us whose views may differ to yours without aiming to insult your own views.

Did you see..

2008-01-22T01:10:00.000+11:00

OK, so did anyone see that last post - the one that I pulled? No? Good. Whiny, semi drunken moaning in public is bad shit.

Unless getting paid for it.

Lookin' kinda campy..

2008-01-02T00:15:00.000+11:00

New Year's Eve Party - Webby and I.

Goodbye 2007 and hello to whatever number comes next. Here is what I want to happen this year:

1. Find THE woman. Not A woman.
2. Souths win number 21.
3. Either make living in this town more rewarding, or finally surrender and move to the inner city of Sydney.
4. Finish my genealogical novel.
5. Be a little easier on my brother.
6. Learn to play flight of the bumblebee on trumpet, and sound good at it.

Oh, the usual..

2007-12-28T12:25:00.000+11:00

Religious discussion does seem to crop up in the most unlikely of places. I should have known then that one of the more likely locations among my regular web surfing haunts would return to said subject. Here's my own contribution to a thread on belief in God, on a UK rugby league forum I regularly visit. It's good when a forum can allow for mature discussion and without anger due to differing views. I certainly wouldn't have found that on any of the teenager dominated Aussie football forums.

On God and faith..

I believe that it's a fine thing for people to place their faith in something that might help them set a standard for good living, if they are incapable of developing their morals individually or with less structure than what a church might offer. I choose to place my faith in family and friends, and that's enough for me. If others require a belief in a higher power in order to lead a good life then so be it. I'm not one to argue against other people's interpretation of the unknown except where such interpretations are so readily illogical that they fly in the face of history, science and human achievement. I can accept that some might believe in God or in Jesus the man, but an idea like the Earth being no more than a few thousand years old makes a mockery of both faith and science.

I don't believe in an all powerful intelligence that has wilfully shaped the universe or its inhabitants, but since I can't prove that belief I'm not about to try and construct an arguments for or against it, only the issues attached. My belief is that having faith in the unknown is illogical, whilst having hope in the same is the sort of gamble that has lead to many of our species greatest breakthroughs. With that in mind it's easy to see how some of the greatest scientific and philosophical minds can accept God, as there is only a fine line between a person who has blind faith and one who is questioning and has hope. It would also seem that a majority who speak of their own faith have questioned more than they have accepted when it comes to religion.

I readily accept that some people believe in God. It's quite easy to be comfortable with the fact that other people have faith in something they can't explain. Where I take issue is when personal faith comes with a set of rules that twist and change to fit the whims of a church construct and include advice on how to deal with, act against or convert those with opposing views. Faith under scrutiny in its many religious guises looks a lot more like a mixture of blind hope and stubborn ignorance than anything worthy of praise, in particular when it won't allow for the tolerance of differing views.

Whilst I'm not bothered by those who have faith in the unknown rather than having hope, I have a problem when ignorance in the known and readily explainable is mistaken for faith. There should be no excuse for holding a belief where science or human advances have shown that previously held beliefs are faulty.

Quiz thingy #4305873409587

2007-12-19T15:08:00.000+11:00

I love these useless, time thieving dalliances..

1. How old will you turn in 2009?
32

2. Do you think you'll be married by then?
I'd like to be, but that would depend on how expensive those Russian women are, and how best to perform adequate mind control.

3. What do you look forward to most in the next 3 months?
Start of the 2008 Centenary football season.

4. Who was the last person to call you?
Angie. Well, she texted me.

5. Do you prefer call or text?
Text. I fucking hate phones. I really do.

6. Do you have any pets?
A dog and a cat. I want a shark.

7. What were you doing at 1:30 am?
Stuffing around on facebook and wading through the many invites to applications Skye had left me. I do wonder if she was taking the piss haha. I also spoke with Phill on msn.

8. What were you doing at 3:00 am?
Finally crawling into bed.

9. When is the last time you saw your mom?
Today, when cutting her birthday cake.

10. How many houses have you lived in?
Eleven.

11. How many city/towns have you lived in?
Five - Yamba, Grafton, Western Newcastle, Wagga Wagga, Lithgow

12. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet?
Bare feet when hot, socks when cold, shoes when outdoors.

13. Are you a social person?
Yes. Although I do like my quiet down-time.

14. What was the last thing you ate?
Birthday Cake.

15. What's your favorite color?
Cobalt Blue, and then Scarlet.

16. What are you doing for your next birthday?
Nothing. My last birthday resulted in me pressing charges against a couple of idiots for assault.

17. What is your favorite TV show?
Who Do You Think You Are. It's a genealogy program.

18. What kind of jam do you like on your PB & J sandwich?
I fuckin' hate peanut butter. But the jam would be blueberry & cranberry.

19. What are you listening to?
Everything. Ears are like that.

20. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed?
I sleep in the cool spot during summer, wherever that is.

21. Do you know how to play poker?
I like Texas Hold-Em' but the regular game isn't as fun.

22. What are you thinking about right now?
Women.

23. What are your plans for this weekend?
Go to Parramatta. Shopping. Borders.

24. Have you ever been in an ambulance?
Yes, when my dad had a stroke. When they said he was OK I walked home to the far side of the city.

25. Do you prefer an ocean or pool?
Ocean Pool.

26. Do you know how to drive a stick shift?
No.

27. What is your favorite thing to spend money on?
Books.

28. Do you wear any jewelry 24/7?
Just my musical cock ring with its built in laser show.

29. Who is the funniest person you know?
It's a toss up between my mate's Angie and Sim. Both crack me up, but are funny in very different ways.

30. What is the main ring tone on your phone?
It goes.. "ring ring... ring ring..." I really hate the majority of intrusive ring tones.

31. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth?
Yes.

32. Do you wish someone was with you right now?
Yeah, someone female, a nice arse and a high sex drive.

33. Are you mad about anything?
I don't get mad, I quietly and without warning react to the situation as most appropriate.

Been a while

2007-12-17T13:53:00.000+11:00

Yep, it's been some time since my last update and plenty of water and waste products have passed under the bridge and into the ocean in that time. So a quick run-down..

- An Aunt died on the North Coast, and I only found out via email after the funeral service, because nobody bothered to ring any of us here in the mountains.

- I'm going to be an uncle. First point of order is to ensure that said niece/nephew(s) is indoctrinated into the fine social craft that is the support of the South Sydney Rabbitohs.

- I find that I make excellent banana & pear muffins. No, you can't have any. Not unless you beg or offer sexual favours, and that only works if you're female, reasonably attractive and can also dislocate your jaw at will.

- My mate Jill had her baby - A precious baby girl by the name of Morgan.

- John Howard is gone. Yes I know that is old news, but it's so good that I thought it was worth repeating.

- I now appreciate why my team doesn't win too often at pub trivia. It's because the team that wins with regularity has been taking a stack of reference books. This being the same team that stopped my mate Jill from going to the ladies room, when she was heavily pregnant, by blocking her way with their chairs, all because they believed that she was text messaging people in there for answers. These people are all in their 50's or above, so they should really know better.

- I've become somewhat of a facebook addict. I find it a lot more entertaining than I ever did myspace, which if anything is only incredibly annoying. It's also better at helping to locate friends far and wide and those from long ago. Excellent stuff.

Evel

2007-12-02T00:37:00.000+11:00

Very few people or events ever truly amazed me has a kid, or impressed me. One guy who never failed to capture my attention or fill me with awe was Evel Knivel. By the time I was born his career was already winding down, but that never interfered with the man's popularity. An amazing guy and he will be missed.

Robert Craig "Evel" Knievel, Jr. October 17, 1938 - November 20, 2007

Howard’s End

2007-11-27T13:33:00.000+11:00

To paraphrase Bill Hicks and Frank L. Baum, “Ding Dong the Liberal Party beast is dead!” Its time to pop the cork (or preferably the Czech beer cap) and enjoy the downfall of the worst Prime Minister Australia has ever had the misfortune of being saddled with. John Howard’s miserable 11-year reign saw Australia tighten its belt in order to accommodate an anorexic view of both domestic and global affairs. The PM’s resultant myopic tendencies were fed via a dangerous infatuation with G.W Bush and US Republican politics.

Whilst there were positives during the Howard era, such as low unemployment and large federal budget surpluses, those gains came on the back of the misery dealt out to those who could least afford it, among those being single mothers, public hospitals, public education, a large chunk of Aboriginal Australia, the environment and investment for the future. Not to forget that the Howard Government's positives also owe a great deal to the industrial boom of the North West that has contributed significantly to the economy and employment statistics. The past 11 years are a monument to greed and the self-indulgence of the most prosperous among us and their lack of consideration for those less fortunate. Money withheld and ripped from the poor were poured into Peter Costello’s money pile, creating the impression of sound financial management, when such surplus funds were desperately needed in a number of key areas, and particularly those previously mentioned.

John Howard and the Australian Liberal Party destroyed the positive steps made for justice in regard to Aboriginal land rights on the back of Mabo and introduced new measures to ensure that hard won civil rights would also be taken from Indigenous Australians, particularly in the Northern Territory. Aboriginal owned enterprises confiscated and returned on lease, along with large tracts of land and no apology in sight for the matters of the past – Is there truly any wonder for that matter, given the sheer number of ongoing crimes committed by the coalition?

Howard pandered to those industries with little or no room for growth, such as coal and timber, whilst doing little to help those industries invest for their future survival in renewable energy and sustainable logging via regrowth respectively. An out of touch leader showed that he was clearly struggling to understand the future of the planet, let alone how Australia should proactively develop new industry and encourage investment in new technology and resource management here and now.

As our kids were getting fatter and our education resources were re-allocated to those institutions already swimming in private funding, our telecommunications industry continued to lag behind the rest of the world, our scientists and nurses headed offshore for realistic reward and the country became progressively more xenophobic, Australia moved ever closer to becoming a turd resembling our recently deposed leader. Thankfully, with more Australians having come to their senses that particular ageing and irrelevant turd has now rounded the s-bend and been flushed out of the system alone.

My first jersey

2007-11-11T15:35:00.000+11:00

Do you have a favourite possession, or an item that tends to remind you of days gone by? Today whilst my brother was digging through his clothes and various odds and ends, which included a large inflatable hand that at one point he had accidentally glued to his head (don't ask) he managed to find my first ever Souths jersey - an original minties version, complete with a 7 on the back and Ignis as sponsor on the front, but missing the rabbit logo. I don't know why my brother ever had that, but it was quite a surprise and one that brought back plenty of memories. I think that I'll have the jersey framed along with my collection of early 80's Souths football cards (minus Phil Gould).

Ok so the above is kind of accurate. I did have one previous jersey, but it was one of those cheaper jumper style jerseys they made for little kids (horrible photo to come).

Well, at least the 3 Souths fans who occasionally/rarely read this blog might appreciate that!

DUH!

2007-11-10T16:36:00.000+11:00

I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number, I'm a dummy because I didn't get her number..

What a hell of a day(s).

2007-11-10T01:17:00.000+11:00

I left my house at 9.30am on Thursday, thinking that I'd probably be back in an hour or three, maximum. Obviously my grasp of how the Australian court system works is faulty, because it was somewhere around 4pm when finally my brother had his minor case heard. It's not such a bad thought considering that neither my brother or I had ever been within the grounds of court before, let alone inside one.

I was there in support for my brother over a matter where he failed to stop a door from slamming shut as the door in question naturally does, which caused a glass pane to shatter. But who could blame him, he was too busy chasing after his girlfriend who was in tears after both he and her had been heavily insulted by an officious bureaucrat at an employment agency - one that in this town has failed the vast majority of people to have ever had the displeasure of being registered with it. But I digress.

After my brother was ordered to pay for the damages, rather than simply having been asked to, we left and decided to meet up with some friends at the local Workies club for a few games of pool and drinks. A nice way to wind down a stressful day before winding back up again to a small extent for Thursday night pub trivia.

Before trivia, the crew were invited to Matty and Marnee's for a few more drinks, topped off in grand style by Marnee's cooking. The girl is a damn fine chef at that. I'm not quite sure what we ate though. I should have asked. A kinda taco looking tray of stuff.. but it vanished rather quickly. Just like all the alcohol I bought for everyone did.

So after Matty won the round of Trivial Pursuit and we had devoured Marnee's dinner offering, we all set off to the pub for our weekly trivia game. It would seem that the warm up game of trivial pursuit didn't help too much. Not that it ever matters!

What did matter was the company. This evening in particular had a new injection of interest. J-Lo had joined us for the evening and with him came his daughter Cindy, who was quickly dubbed C-Lo. Now is this the part where I start writing like a gibbering idiot? Here's hoping some dignity shines through!

I don't tend to give much thought to first impressions. They so often tend to be scratching the surface of what one tends to learn as time progresses, where you are able to learn to appreciate a person for their true worth. So having said that, it's all the more baffling to me how this girl managed to hook me in so readily. And not just me. She made a fan of everyone she spoke to. J-Lo made the comment that Cindy had made more friends in one night on the town than he has in the years he has lived here (on and off)! Some people are just incredibly magnetic I guess.

So, apparently people didn't think I was too subtle in making sure I always had an empy seat next to me. Was I that pissed? I don't recall doing anything too overt, except really enjoying the company and conversation.

Anyway, like I said - we lost pub trivia, but so what. Afterwards we all headed off to Mark's karaoke at the Court House Hotel. Top stuff, as always. A cold night and the fireplace burning, good tunes and great company. I did my usual "My Way" by Frank Sinatra, and it turns out Cindy can knock out a tune like a natural. "Simply the best" by Tina Turner was the choice. We considered a duet, but I didn't fancy my voice in handling Bon Jovi! J-Lo made me smile when he said as a proud father and in reference to his daughter's singing "hey when I make something, I make it well."

The evening wound down, but with some of us still wound up I saw my brother and Jas off to home and I headed out for post karaoke drinks at J-Lo's, with the man himself, Cindy and Jill. More scotch, music, German neighbours complaining, fried garlic prawns, and steak with pasta, the night only died when 7.30am rolled around and Jill headed for home. I stayed, slept on the couch and then rose at 12.30, had a shower, changed into clean clothes that Jill, Jardine and Jas brought me and then headed off after an excellent cooked breakfast made for me by Cindy.

An excellent 24+ hours. I must admit though, for one reason or another I'm now finding it very hard to concentrate.

Don't you just love..

2007-11-06T19:06:00.000+11:00

..wasting time filling out questionnaires? Maybe it's just me, but it's a fun way to kill time. Jill, I nicked this from your MySpace (with slight modification).

Name & Station : Monsignor John, ex Universal Life Church minister and now proud independent cult leader
Date of Birth: 77
Birthplace: Grafton, NSW
Current Location: Lithgow NSW
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark brown, a few traces of grey
Height: 6ft 3
Heritage: Aboriginal Australian, Irish, English, Swedish
Piercings: none
Tattoos: small one on my spine, below singlet line
Favourite Band/Singer: Too hard/too many
Song: Be my baby - Ronnettes (no, I'm not kidding)
Movie: The Razor's Edge (1984)
Disney Movie: Condor Man
TV show: Battlestar Galactica
Color: Cobalt blue
Food: Home made Hawaiian pizza with sun-dried tomato, oregano and thyme
Pizza topping: Pineapple
Ice-Cream Flavor: Lime spider
Drink (alcoholic): Theakston's Old Peculier
Soda: Pub Squash
Store: Utopia, Broadway - Sydney
Clothing Brand: Threadless.com
Shoe Brand: Converse (blue, pin striped)
Season: Football
Month: October
Holiday/Festival: Steak & B.J Day
Flower: Dorrigo Orchid
Board game: Scrabble/Literati (challenge me)
Sunny or rainy: Heavy rain
Chocolate or vanilla: Strawberry
Fruit or veggie: Fruit
Night or day: Night
Sour or sweet: Sweet
Love or money: Love
Phone or in person: In person or online
Looks or personality: Personality (mostly)
Coffee or tea: Tea, or a sweet hazlenut latte
Hot or cold: Almost too hot
Your Goal for 2008: Finish my book
Most missed memory: Mates at Uni
Best physical feature: Tongue
First thought waking up: Need a wizz
Sesame street alter ego: That "noony noony" typewriter dude
Fairytale alter ego: Jesus
Worst crime: Chasing my brother and his 5yr old friends with fake dynamite
Greatest ambition: You will have to ask.
Greatest fear: Great White Sharks
Darkest secret: You will have to ask.
Favorite subject: History
Strangest received gift: A pterodactyl in a snow globe thingy that won't shut up when it asks to be fed.
Smoke: Never
Drink: Yeah
Curse: Yup
Shower daily: Yeah, although I'm not finicky about it
Like thunderstorms: Love them, except when on the computer
Dance in the rain: Slide in the mud, but no dancing, unless I have an umbrella and a street lamp to spin 'round
Sing: Karaoke 1 - 3 x per week
Play an instrument: Recorder and a bit of guitar. Planning to buy a trumpet
Get along with your parents: Yep.
Wish on stars: Nah
Believe in fate: No, but I like that others do.
Believe in love at first sight: No, that's lust.
Drive: Choose not to.
Sew: Limited, but yes.
Cook: Yes and I enjoy it
Speak another language: Bits of Bundjalung, in various dialects
Dance: I do enjoy more structured dancing, but I suck at disco type stuff
Sing: Yeah, kinda. I'm not very good but my voice suits Sinatra and Robeson
Touch your nose with your tongue: No, but I can touch yours with it
Whistle: Yeah, not the finger thing though
Curl your tongue: And how!
Been Drunk: Yep
Been Stoned/High: No
Eaten Sushi: Maybe I just got a bad batch, but yurghk..
Been in Love: Yeah
Skipped school: I quite good at that
Made prank calls: I had a free phone line between Wagga and Bathurst Uni campuses. What do you think?
Sent someone a love letter: No
Stolen something: Yeah
Cried yourself to sleep: No, but I might have wanted to
What annoys you most in a person? People lying regularly to impress me
Are you right or left handed? Left, despite violent school teachers efforts
What is your bedtime? Between 11.30pm - 3am
Name three things you can't live without: Learning, family, trust
What is the color of your room? Blue
Do you have any siblings? Yes
Do you have any pets? A dog and cat
Would you kill someone you hate for a million dollars? Yes
What is you middle name? I don't have one. My first name is Johnathon-Trent
What are you nicknames? John, Big John, JJ, Johnny, Johnno
Are you for or against gay marriage? I don't care what others do if it doesn't hurt anyone.
Do you have a crush on anyone? Besides Jane Russell? Maybe.
Are you afraid of the dark? I was when little. I've since climbed a mountain in the dark.
How do you want to die? Happy
What is the largest amount of popsicles that you have eaten on one day? About 15 during a bushfire
Would you take a bullet for the one you love? Yes
Believe in Aliens: Yes, but I very much doubt they could ever have travelled here.
Believe in God: No.
Believe in Ghosts: No, but I am open minded to the reality that many things are weird and as yet unexplained.
In a Member of the Opposite Sex:
Hair color: Any
Eye color: Don't Care
Height: Don't Care
Weight: Anything, just not obese.
Most important physical feature: Must have skin.
Biggest turn-off: Money Driven

Procrastinating

2007-11-06T16:40:00.000+11:00

It's half past a brass monkey and I'm sitting in my big lounge with my feet up, with the heater on, ignoring work and messing around on my family tree project and blog. It's been a very ordinary few days since my last post.

In regard to my family tree, I think I may be getting closer to solving a few mysteries that have eluded me and other distant cousins and researchers. This excites me. I'm sure you're either shrugging your shoulders or looking for the next topic, but I find that genealogy is more enthralling than any other form of mystery. So very few people know what their background is beyond 3-4 generations. I started from a point where I didn't even know the names of my maternal grand parents, so there was much to learn.

Since having started my project I've made many discoveries. I've learnt of my Swedish heritage, the areas of Ireland in which many ancestors came from, and that my English roots touch more than half the counties in England and with those details so far having been traced back to the mid 1600's. A parliamentarian, several convicts dating back to 1788, a fellow who founded a NSW country town and a woman who escaped the gallows for a new life in Australia make up some of the interesting characters in my mother's side of the family.

On my paternal side, I've found indigenous connections that tie me to people from as far and wide as the Northern Territory, South Australia and even the first nations of Tasmania. Not to neglect the fact that no less than 20 NRL players, 3 AFL players, numerous professional boxers and several major political/historical figures appear in my family tree. It's a fun hobby, even if it is one that is generally perceived as being quite geeky. But that hardly matters. It's not like I've ever bothered to fit any other stereotypes.

I'd imagine that like in the UK, once the Australian version of the TV series Who Do You Think You Are goes to air on SBS I'll be joined by a large influx of new genealogists. Hopefully one or two of those will have some of the answers I've been looking for.

Anyway, for the heck of it - here's a picture from last Saturday's Halloween gig. My brother the zombie.

Halloween 2007

2007-11-04T12:30:00.000+11:00

Whilst Halloween was just another day and Saturday was expected to be the same, that wasn't quite the case. I knew I was going to see a few mates play in their bands on Saturday night but it was a surprise to me that there would be a Halloween costume competition (although I don't think any prize was ever handed out). So from midday when Jill came around for a cuppa, we got to work on costume ideas. After a quick trip to the Warehouse and returning with some glue, fake blood and an Aussie afro wig, I was set. Out came the paints and the afternoon was spent gluing various pieces of tissue paper scars to my brother, Jasmine and Jill for the zombie effect, and rubbing my wig over a dirty car engine to make my evil clown guise look all the more disgusting.

The end result, a picture of me at 3am after returning from the pub.

Women and oysters

2007-11-02T15:30:00.000+11:00

OK so that was quick. I'm a single man again. Sometimes you can find someone you easily connect with, but if goals don't match then often no amount of compromise can help. A shame, but that's life and I gained a good mate.

So - what else is new? I'm glad you asked. I had the best steak I've ever had the pleasure of slicing into, at Wallerawang. The "Top Pub" may not be much to look at, but it's certainly a friendly place and their service in regard to food is excellent. It was a quick jaunt before the usual Thursday night pub trivia. Jas, myself, Jill and J-Lo. Curried pippies (mild) might be my thing, but I've never been keen to try oysters before, despite growing up in a North Coast fishing hamlet, so I surprised myself when I tried one of J-Lo's platter whilst waiting for my steak. The verdict - shithouse. I had nothing positive to offer. It was like eating a snotty fishing line. So my surprise only increased once I tried one with tabasco sauce. I actually enjoyed that one. The texture was altogether different and much more appetising, and I'm not one for hot food at all. It's always good to try something different, regardless of initial fears or prejudices.

Oh, and for the record, with the team halved for various reasons, we later went down in pub trivia by 1.5 points. So close!

Leadville

2007-10-29T19:12:00.000+11:00

Leadville, near Dunedoo in the Central West of NSW.

Uh oh spaghettio

2007-10-29T17:18:00.000+11:00

I'm not a fan of daylight savings. It's a horrible case of time meddling and the sort of action best left to omnipotent beings, aliens and sun stealing super villains. Serving only one purpose, which is to mess with people's sleep, daylight slaving savings goes down worse when applied in conjunction with taxation stress, incredibly loud thunder and early mornings alarms.

Out of bed, showered and ready to for my appointment with my accountant. I put on my special "please don't fuck me against your oak table" outfit and headed off for my dreaded date down town. As I neared the office I could see the secretaries struggling to contain themselves and their bras as they ripped the door open and quickly sealed me in, ushering me forth into the bowels of their overlord's taxation dungeon.

For a whole blisteringly painful 15 minutes I dodged numerous poisoned tipped conversations, each laced with numerical, mind-numbing inanity. My accountant's smile and no fuss, can-do attitude did the best with what I had made available and I made it out alive without being partially digested or sold into sex slavery on the Kagoshima market. Neato.

It's a good start to the week, capping off an excellent weekend spent in Dunedoo, which is a couple of hours north of my present location.

Interesting Dunedoo fact:

- The town was founded in 1953 by Mario Lemieux, Pittsburgh Penguins hockey legend and noted arctic explorer.

Woo tax!

2007-10-24T09:56:00.000+10:00

I finally got around to making an appointment with my accountant to lodge my tax return, two days out from the Oct 31 cut off. I am incredibly well organised. You can tell, right? I'm sure that woman loves seeing me. Once a year I rock up, hand her a stack of paper and then hide behind the desk knowing that I should have done better. Record keeping? I do that well, but with the help of my own mysterious filing system, which baffles even me. It's getting to the point where I'd almost submit to a few lashes across the back rather than to have to go through this every year.

On a similar note, my brother found his dog holding his girlfriend's incomplete tax return today, in a manner that would suggest that he is either trying to help complete it, or is perhaps only one step away from embezzling funds. I'd go with the latter. I mean, would you trust a dog who doesn't just eat flies, but catches them and pulls their wings off?

On that note, I have to go now. My cat (Bitey - yes, a Simpson's reference) is standing upright at my window, rattling the screen for attention. When I get out of my chair and peel back the curtain I know she will only turn away.

bitch..

It's been a long week.

2007-10-22T20:00:00.000+10:00

"For those who came in late.." It's been a long week. I'll attempt to gather in the events that have transpired since my last post, but it's currently low tide in regard to my current flow. I'm very tired.

Wednesday karaoke went quite well, like it usually does. A relaxed evening with no worries. When leaving the pub however there was a fight. Of course it turned out that it was the bloke I had a run-in with about a month prior. He was threatening the pub staff and arguing with a pregnant woman. Yeah, a real champion. Looking on and also involved in some capacity were the two guys who assaulted me on my Birthday, because Captain Wonderful is dating either the mother, or aunt of one of the younger twats. It does seem that shit magnets do indeed stick together.

The pub staff managed to handle the problems, turfing Captain Wonderful out of the pub and everything returned to normal. However, as we waited for a taxi for my mate Jill, Captain Wonderful again started up with his insane behaviour. Let's keep in mind that this bloke has had somewhere in the vicinity of 5 to 9 pub fights in the last month, and been thrown out of his lodgings as a result. On Wednesday night he was just as bad, only that he also chose to conduct a verbal assault (also shoving) on a pregnant woman before collapsing to the ground without any one touching him in a manner that would suggest what little brain he still had, had been spirited away. He dropped like a sack of spuds and as I looked on from across the street, I called an ambulance, only to see him a few minutes later get back to his feet and then leap up and hurl himself into the window of a shop, then bouncing off and onto the ground without even breaking the glass. I'm not sure if I'll be going out to karaoke again on a Wednesday.

Thursday was great. Pub Trivia time, and "Death to the Sand People of Tattooine" won! Go us! It's those quieter, more socially functional times that I enjoy most.

Friday-Sunday. Even better. I'm no longer single, and I'm pretty bloody happy. I'm sure the details would go down great here, but then - that's just not me.

Sunday evening. Dinner with Jardine, Jas, Marnee and Matty. I was tired after a long but enjoyable day, but dinner was worthwhile if even just to see Matty show us how he and a mate of his have races to see who can explode first (picture someone straining to crap with their fists clenched and you'll get the idea). Following dinner it was decided a spot of karaoke would be good. Sunday karaoke is fun, as barely anyone is ever there for it, in the only pub open in town on the night, so it's a great opportunity to try new songs without lots of people around to listen to you stuff up greatly. The tester for the evening - Morrissey and First of the Gang to Die. Great song, even if Morrissey is a twat.

What...?!

2007-10-17T14:30:00.000+10:00

I was at the top of town today, running a few errands and enjoying the sunshine. Warm with a slight breeze, it was Sunnyboy and chewy frozen kangaroo weather.

I enjoyed my walk, however I saw something quite nefarious going down when passing one of the local primary schools. I only looked for a few brief moments. I saw Rupert Murdoch walking down the steps of the school and loading boxes of school library books (that I believe he had stolen), into his 1974 Holden Torana.

Half man, half bird

2007-10-16T17:27:00.000+10:00

Worst arms ever

2007-10-16T01:46:00.000+10:00

I just couldn't help myself

2007-10-15T16:34:00.000+10:00

Blogging can be quite addictive once you get into swing of things, and in particular if you're like me and have enough interests that trying to jam them all into the one blog won't work. So I've decided to start yet another. Whilst I'll continue to ramble and write about life in general on this blog, and post my photos and cartoons, I'll be moving any of my kitsch, 80's obsessed, pop culture driven humour, thoughts and rants to:

http://johnlithgow.blogspot.com/

Weekend games

2007-10-14T16:13:00.000+10:00

Hell of a game. Leeds crushed St. Helen's in the European Super league grand final, and did it in fine style at a packed Old Trafford. It was one of the better UK grand finals I've seen, so it almost made up for the absolute rubbish served up by New Zealand this afternoon in their 100th Anniversary Test match against Australia.

What the hell is up with those guys? It's amazing how a team of professional footballers can turn into water and lose all composure and do it consistently like the New Zealand Kiwis do. No heart, too selfish and lacking in brains - they deserved the loss. Losing 58-0 is one hell of a way to celebrate 100 years since NZ played their first ever international match. I hope the Poms and French absolutely hammer them. Way to waste my afternoon, jerks!

Wenty Country Club - Yee Har!

2007-10-13T22:30:00.000+10:00

Not quite that kind of Country Club. There wasn't much happening in town Friday night, so on the road again - Jill, John, Jas and Jardine, to the Wentworth Falls Golf and Country Club. We had been invited by our mate Lisa, who runs the usual Wednesday night karaoke, to come check out another of her regular gigs. With some reservation, we ventured forth and had a look around.

As I suspected, it was mostly an older crowd, but nothing too alien. A little sedate but the more they drank the easier the shackles of age were thrown off. Plenty of crooner style music, and by the younger crowd there too, so I pitched in with My Way and rounded things out with YMCA as a duet with Jas. Lisa was kind enough to tell me across the room via the microphone to tell her if I saw any women I liked and she'd give me the lo-down on them. Haha, I'm sure the announcement had every can of mace in the building clutched and shaken.

A good venue and a friendly lot of regulars, I quite liked the place, even it was bloody cold over there. We also left a bit too late to venture in to Jill's favourite pub in her old stomping ground of Katoomba, a place called the Gearin Hotel, which I also consider to be one of the better pubs in the mountains and out through the tablelands and is incidentally owned by the actor Jack Thompson (maybe best remembered recently to international audiences as Uncle Owen in Star Wars).

In all it was a fun night out. Today on the other hand was quiet, slow and very peaceful. Too peaceful. What I wouldn't do for a spear and a few blokes in pith helmets to throw them at, Rourke's Drift style. Just anything. A little action. Still, falling asleep in front of the computer at midday is kinda like action.. right?!

Biggest let down

2007-10-12T13:22:00.001+10:00

The Jenolan Caves were pretty cool, but I must admit - not having seen any weird albino cave dwelling proto-humans was quite a let down. I'm reluctant to consider the possibility that Hollywood has been lying to me, but if there are any genetic throwbacks living in the caves I certainly didn't see them. Perhaps the next time I return I will be better prepared, taking with me a team of intrepid spelunkers, scientists and crypto-zoologists and lots of alcohol. My preparation yesterday was all wrong. One does not go into a cave after a leisurely stroll around a picturesque lake, having consumed an overly expensive latte devoid of hazelnut.

Fail

2007-10-12T00:57:00.000+10:00

Like my cone-collared friend in the accompanying image, tonight my team failed in our weekly pub trivia effort. Perhaps Gary Numan is a bad luck talisman, as we came third on the back of calling our team "Gary Numan versus the Dream Police." Of course I would refuse to believe that the Dream Police or anything to do with Cheap Trick could be the cause of the bad Juju.

We didn't play too poorly, but I wasn't exactly thrilled about my contribution during the film round, or any round really. Whilst it's not a matter to be concerned about, the questions that stumped me do at least give me something interesting to google and learn about during my down time.

On a brighter note, delayed birthday greetings continue to roll in. Thanks Sarah - considering you've been up to your elbows in woolly excitement and dip on your farm recently, you're forgiven.

Even brighter, I quite enjoyed today's road trip as well. Off again with Jardine, Jas and Jill, this time to the Jenolan Caves. First off - the road there is shithouse. Only the road to Nimbin compares. Hell of a view though.

I really had no idea what to expect in regard to the Jenolan Caves, but I didn't expect the setting to be a cross between Lord of the Rings and National Lampoon's European Vacation. The Swiss style buildings, rock towers screaming into the sky and drive-thru cave styled action all blended together to completely dismiss any previous notions I might have had. The caves were interesting but oddly enough I was drawn more to the blue pool. Heavy in minerals, crystal clear to a considerable depth and the colour usually only seen in volcanic springs and trapped in centuries old glaciers, I regret not having had my camera with me. If I go back I intend spending a lot of time getting all of the resources I need in order to do an oil painting of the pool with the rock spires and caves in the background.

Dinner at the Hampton Roadhouse and watching the lightning hurtling down into Lithgow in the distance were a fine way to wind down the trip. Now if only the following pub trivia could have gone off as smoothly! Ah, but there's always next week!

Because one was just never enough.

2007-10-10T14:27:00.000+10:00

I've started a second blog to cater for a particular niche interest I have, in Aboriginal literature, genealogy and history studies.

Black Books

Tuesdays are dork-tastic

2007-10-09T22:53:00.000+10:00

I may not watch much TV these days, but I probably recall more useless bits of trivia about long forgotten TV shows than most people. I retain memories of TV shows that my contemporaries once loved but have since relegated to the mists of time. Do you remember Metal Mickey? The Ghost and Mrs Muir? How about The Master, which starred Lee Van Cleef as a Ninja?

Should I admit any of this? Well, it's not like I'd really care to know a person who would look down upon me for having such a dork-tastic skill anyway. Can I call it a skill? Maybe it's more a trick of shameful proportions played upon a savagely tuned, sugar encrusted mind. Either way, it's fun, mostly harmless and helps blow away those hours one might otherwise waste on less enjoyable trivial pursuits.

So here it is. Each Tuesday I'm going to dig deep, peel back the Mr Sheen coated walnut that guards my memories and I'll wax lyrical about the TV shows you've either forgotten, never seen before or don't care to know about, but are going to read about anyway, simply because you're bored, can't sleep or are playing along nicely because you know me.

Rabbitohs 100 Years

2007-10-09T14:07:00.000+10:00

In general I quite like the logo, and am looking forward to celebrating the 100th anniversary of my club, but note to the designer at Souths: Whilst not offensive, I do find the cliché of a Koori bloke standing on one leg with the other resting, to be somewhat irritating. Lift your game!

Anniversary article

Kalimar!

2007-10-08T12:02:00.001+10:00

How can anyone not love this?

Saturday blargh

2007-10-07T11:32:00.000+10:00

My birthday came and went and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I had a great time with my mates, and loved the banana cake Jas and Jill made for me. I also love the Japanese styled Zen garden they gave me. Very cool. The weird dinosaur in a snow globe that cries to be fed is quite a laugh and I'll also have fun with the new art supplies.

What wasn't cool however is when the clock ticked over past midnight and a new day came and upon leaving the local nightclub (only one and it was the only time I had been there), we were stopped by a couple of drunken idiots that were out looking for trouble. To cut a long story short, they assaulted a mate of mine (over his karaoke singing of all things) and then me after I told them to lay-off. When both were involved that drew my brother into matters as well.

My Saturday was mixed to say the least. I managed to fall sleep at about 6am, with my brother and Jasmine worried about the concussion that the Doctor we saw had warned about (from my being kicked in the back of the head whilst grappling with the first guy) and was up again at 8.30am. A few cups of tea and plenty of laughs with my mate Angie at 10.30am before we went for a drive, and then an hour+ at the local police station giving a statement and looking to press charges. Fun fun..

On the bright side I did laugh my arse off at the thermometer and K.Y tube Angie gave me for my birthday to make sure I was OK. Nice work smarty!

Sofala

2007-10-05T14:38:00.000+10:00

Before pub trivia last night I went for a road trip with some mates and my brother. I don't think that the destination was planned, but we ended up out past Bathurst and headed north, until we reached a small town by the name of Sofala. Sleepy and picturesque, Sofala is rather unique in that for a small Aussie town its streets are all narrow, almost giving it a crowded vibe. We stopped into the local pub, played some pool, had a beer, enjoyed ourselves and headed back to town, getting back in time for the usual round of Thursday night trivia.

Left to right: Jasmine, Sophie and Jardine (no I don't know what he's doing either), standing at the back of the pub at Sofala.

Jill, getting excited behind the wheel before we set off on our random trip.

Pub Trivia

2007-10-05T14:01:00.000+10:00

Legend handing Matty a fake cheque for our team coming second at pub trivia last night, after losing on a tie-breaker in the final round to the "Bar Whores."

Unlike the other teams, we generally change our team name each week, and usually to something quite ridiculous. This week it was "Champions of the Leather Regions, People?" I'm sure Legend, who runs the trivia nights appreciates having to call such names out, and as a question, after all he is always smiling.

For the record, the tie breaker question was "how many Davis Cups in Tennis has Australia won?" The obvious answer is: Who cares? But the required answer was 28, with our guess being 21. I think most Souths fans might be able to tell why my guess was 21 (sad in-joke, don't ask).

Left to right: Marnee, Skye and Jasmine

Mmmm

2007-10-03T19:39:00.000+10:00

Mountain bread (rye), diced capsicum, mixed Asian vegetables, fresh and quartered tomatoes and a token squirt of mayonnaise.

Do it. You know you want to.

Berfdae build-up

2007-10-02T22:31:00.000+10:00

Two mates birthdays this week, and then mine. What is it about early October? I had an enjoyable meal tonight at the local club for the first of those birthdays, and tomorrow will be Karaoke to continue with that and into mine.

I'm not really thrilled about mine. Friday I turn 30. It's come so quickly and like a lot of people who have reached that milestone I wonder if I could have, or more realistically should have achieved more in the time I've been given, and no I don't mean regarding monetary gain. It's a downer, even if I am pretty happy with who I am, and where I'm slowly going. I think on Friday I'll do as a mate suggested regarding her own birthday and do something nice for my parents, as a thank you for creating me.

I usually spend my birthdays on the South Coast of NSW, getting pissed and eating meat with the other birthday boy and another mate (who this year might be a bit pre-occupied looking after his twin baby boys), but this year I'll give it a miss. Still, I'm sure they will have a great time.

Go West

2007-10-02T21:18:00.000+10:00

After Monday was spent moving my brother's furniture, today was a chance to relax - to an extent. I tagged along on a road trip to Bathurst as my brother, his girl and a mate of ours all signed up for some work this weekend at the Bathurst 1000. The plan was originally to check out some shops (mostly checking second hand books) whilst they sorted their work and did their own browsing, and then to head home. Instead we saw a movie, with the choice of flick being Hairspray.

Personally I thought that Hairspray might be pretty good or at worst passable, but I have to admit that it hit the mark in every way with me. John Water's did a brilliant job in writing the original film, but it was a wise choice for the remake to have been based on the Broadway show rather than original 1988 film. As much as I love Waters imagination, his execution can also be a bit off-putting. So, without giving anything away, this movie is excellent an excellent way to spend a few bucks and gain a feel-good buzz for the rest of the day. There are no idiotic plot points with forced character anguish or emotional drama, and that in film today is a very rare thing - just like it always has been. Sometimes people just want to be happy. We might love a sad ending like Casablanca, but overkill is definitely the word when it comes to how Hollywood usually tries to manipulate people's emotions and wallets.

Great flick, wonderful cast and very catchy music. If you're not an uptight bastard then go see it. If you are then go get drunk and see it anyway.

BOOOOO!

2007-10-01T00:00:00.000+10:00

Well, Melbourne Storm have won the Grand Final, defeating Manly Sea-Eagles in the process and taking the wind out of a mate's sails this evening. The score? I have no idea. Don't care. It's been a good day full of shifting my brother's furniture, rounded out nicely with a barbeque at said mate's house. I wasn't particularly fond of either team playing in the game, but for his sake I was sorry to see Manly lose, even if in general I quite dislike them. Anyway, the loss was soon forgotten and drowned out with a ready mix of beer and karaoke at the pub down the road. For the record, I sang 500 Miles (by the Proclaimers) and then headed home, more than likely to loud applause in the false reality in which I reside.

If this post is somewhat disjointed then I shall have to ask you to leave and come back when beer hasn't had a slight influence upon my already meagre skills as a writer.

Would you like a jug of fat with that?

2007-09-29T14:18:00.000+10:00

Last night I ordered a pizza (supreme, deep-pan) from Pizza Hut, and it came with its own tub of flavourless cheesy dip. I don't know if that's normal in the rest of the world, but I struggle to quantify with any accuracy my mixed, but generally morose feelings over such decadence. Suffice to say I couldn't fight against it. The cheese won.

Oh that's just super

2007-09-28T23:25:00.000+10:00

I received an email today from one of the genealogy websites I sometimes frequent, and it had a link to a new service that lists celebrities and their family trees. So I head over to the site and punch in a few surnames and note that most of them come up with nothing. But then I get to the name Hallett, listed for the 1600's and from a particular town in Dorset England, and lo and behold it's in their database. So, I hear you ask, who is the mystery celebrity that I found to be a very distant cousin?

Well let's just say that for all of the flak it gets, Microsoft can't be that bad.

Obscure TV Shows

2007-09-28T02:54:00.000+10:00

Currently I'm in withdrawal. I've been without TV for about 3 weeks now. I don't pay a lot of attention to the TV screen, but generally I like to have the box glowing warmly in the corner as I work, surf the web or procrastinate. I would generally leave it on 24/7 so that I can listen to the news, documentaries and movies that I'm not sure are worth watching. So it figures that the TV died the one time that I turned it off.

I'll get around to having it repaired, but apart from a slice of Late Night with Conan O'Brien I'm not missing it. Yeah I have another TV, but it's in the next room, way over --> there. So now I'm listening to more music, buying more books and comics on Ebay and watching football at the pub with mates, rather than at home. Maybe I should do an Office Space on my TV?

In the meantime, let's turn our gaze back, and reminisce about some of the joyful times I've had with TV. Let's see if there's still some room in my heart for my idiot box, by looking back at some of the more interesting, obscure, odd, terrible and not so memorable shows that nobody else my age seems to recall:

Manimal - This was an odd 80's action show that I'm pretty sure lasted for less than a season in the US, but surprisingly was still shown in Australia. The stories were rubbish and the action incredibly lacklustre but what made this thing so cool to me at 6 or 7 years of age is that the lead character could transform himself into any animal he liked. At least that's what was supposed to have made it cool. Instead I found myself being frustrated by the fact that the guy had no imagination whatsoever (thank you pissy budget). In almost every episode the guy only ever seemed to transform into either an eagle or a panther, neither of which ever did anything of note. I think maybe once I saw him become an elephant, which I believe was when probably, if my memory serves, when banging a stewardess in an aircraft toilet.

Robostory - This was shown on the ABC during the mid 80's, usually at about 7.30 in the morning, weekdays before school in a block with another pair of animated classics, The Wizard of OZ and Vicky the Viking. It's perhaps one of the best animated series I've seen when it comes to high quality, multi-layered storytelling. A French production, the story revolved around a small girl who followed her dog into an unlikely predicament that leads to being hurled across the universe in a space shuttle and being stranded on a planet populated by two groups of robots. On the surface it sounds simple enough, but this cartoon was very dark in its nature, despite plenty of humour thrown into the mix. Rather than the typical Hanna-Barbera or Filmation light hearted morning animation, Robostory's tone, particularly in the later episodes is closer to the more complex and adult oriented, allegorical commentary styled works of Ralph Bakshi (In particular, a film like Wizards comes to mind). Check it out for yourself on youtube.

Skippy - Probably the most famous of Aussie TV exports, and definitely one of the weirdest. I loved this as a kid and it's even more entertaining now with a beer in hand or when playing a drinking game. Some people like Lassie, and some might like that stupid dolphin off SeaQuest, or even the long forgotten Salty the seal, but nothing compares to seeing a kangaroo driving a car, changing gears, opening a safe or untying hostages. Simply awesome. What's even more awesome is that in order to film such plot points the camera would focus on a pair of severed kangaroo paws as some guy off screen manipulated them into action. What a great job! I do wonder what employment opportunities awaited someone with that prized position once the series ended. Picture it - the early 1970's and an unidentified homeless man is laid out naked on a slab in a Sydney morgue, with the only clue to his identity being the pair of severed kangaroo paws that the coroner failed to pry from his vice like grip. Fun stuff!

Why I don't know Kung Fu

2007-09-26T20:56:00.000+10:00

Yeah I know, it's hard to believe - I don't know kung fu. People both young and old often see me in the street and comment "oh, look at that guy, doesn't he look like he knows kung fu!" To which I usually shrug off, pretend I didn't hear and then allow the masquerade to continue unabated. Yes, even in neighbouring towns there are whispers of how I do indeed look like a finely tuned instrument of aggressive resistance, or so I am told.

Several years ago I was presented an opportunity, where I was asked if I might like to be taught one of the more destructive and potent strains of kung fu. A strain so deadly that to even type its name here will lead to the deaths of several starving children in Africa. The gentleman who had offered me this chance was a master. I don't know if he was a master of a martial arts or not, but given his peculiar appearance and lifestyle I am quite certain that he had mastered something.

We arranged for my first lesson and we met at his house, shrouded in mysterious mists in the foothills of the mountain range near my town. I was shown how to fall. I was also shown how not to fall. Both were very important lessons, which I grappled with and failed to conquer in any meaningful sense. I now fall like an expert in not falling, which makes me one of the worlds most accomplished standers. My method of falling, once coerced to do so, is akin to a gazelle that has been shot in the flank whilst bounding across the Serengeti, with the moon high in the background as birds flock and twitter in the hardiest of trees (setting the scene is important).

I learnt very little, despite being taught very much. The one hand clapping, the take this pebble from my hand, and the can you pat your head and rub your tummy all featured heavily, at least now in the way I choose to recall this not so pivotal event in a stretch of several forgettable weeks.

I must admit that pain played a part in my choosing not to continue with the lessons. I recall that after my first lesson my arse hurt a great deal. I don't think there was any blood, but I assure you the pain was not from what you are thinking. No, to my knowledge there was no sex, only pain, stone grabbing and various tidbits of philosophy which I believe were taken from works of the ancient master David Carradine.

Some of what I've just written is true.

What is also true is that when the dude started eating and offering me weeds from my own front lawn where dogs often urinate I knew that my kung fu days were over.

Super Dickery

2007-09-26T14:24:00.000+10:00

I'm really not a fan of how little thought is going into writing comics these days (or is that heart). I'm sure the writers all think they are doing a hell of a job, but unless your name is Gail Simone, Alan Moore or Grant Morrison then the odds are that you're struggling for ideas. Why is it that killing characters or portraying them in a manner contrary to usual conduct is so readily acceptable now; is it editorial policy or ugly coincidence?

From an artists perspective I'm relieved that whilst the writing stocks are down, the visual element is still on quite a high. But then comics as a medium continue to be the one field where artistic endeavour appears to be pushed most of all. Yeah, plenty of people do look down on comics as an art form and in a literary sense, but then that's just blind snobbery, barely worth commenting on.

What's Opera Doc?

2007-09-25T20:09:00.000+10:00

An old gag title, from a wonderful Warner Bros cartoon, and probably the first thing I think about when it comes to opera. I suppose it's the same for a lot of people, we hear opera and classical music in passing, be it in advertising, brief snippets on the radio, Sunday ABC TV recordings or in pop culture, ranging from Apocalypse Now to Bugs Bunny and anything remotely Kubrick. It's a wonder then, that so many of us can point to a piece of classical music and speak of how we enjoy it, when often so few of us will take the time and learn more.

Some recent recommended listening, and other discoveries:

Largo al factotum - Il Barbiere di Siviglia (As recommended and loved, apart from the very camp introduction!)

Soave il vento - Così fan tutte (Another recommendation. This one's growing on me the more I hear it)

Largo al factotum - Il Barbiere di Siviglia (Stumbled across, laughed at and enjoyed)

Wagner's Tannhauser - Part One (I love the power in this stuff. Mmm)

Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjue (Miles Davis doing this version. I'm not even sure what basket this goes in)

President of the World

2007-09-25T01:23:00.000+10:00

I must admit, I'm actually quite curious about the US Presidential election race. I don't know a great deal about the various guys flinging their hats into the ring, or at least much more than what SBS, CNN, The Daily Show and Stephen Colbert tell me. But whoever wins is going to help shape global politics, agenda, oil prices, cancer rates, the temperature of my testicles and perhaps reshape the relationship between my country (The People's Democratic Sexual Empire of Eastern Australia) and the US.

So here's my guide to who I think people are, and what I'd rather imagine them as:

1. Barack Obama - Mr. Juicy intrigue. This guy interests me a great deal. My first thought when I hear him speak is not for his policy or background, but for the fact that he will probably be talking through one of those fuck-off shiny artificial voice boxes before taking any Presidential oath. Does he smoke? Fucked if I know, but he sure does sound like he's one of those sideshow guys who regularly packs 50 cigarettes into his gaping mouth with each passing urge for nicotine and dollars. As a side note, apparently this guy is black (yes, I too am shocked). Although apparently not black enough for some, and too black for others. Bigots come in all shapes and colours. Just who would have thought that some African Americans and white supremacists could come together in a hate love-in. I get tingles* just thinking about it.

2. Hillary Clinton - Bill's mother. It's his mother right? Surely he wouldn't have married her. Anyway, she's well orchestrated but not well castrated, so that makes for an interesting mix. I thought Bill did quite well as Official Sexual Being of America in the absence of a real President, even if his taste in women leaves a lot to be desired. So, if Bill didn't fall far from the ghastly tree that is his mother/wife, maybe Hillary will do OK and score herself some tubby Louis Anderson-like action too. Still, if there's any Clinton for parliament, then my vote's for George.

3. Rudolph Giuliani - Not sure what to make of this. The guy is more familiar to me as an occasional joke on Letterman or Late Night with Conan. Happy and friendly enough, he's run a city with more people in it than my country has, and I guess it's a positive that he knows how to deal with the cement making industry. But what does he bring to the table when it comes to crazy shenanigans? Does he get drunk Boris style? Does he have a thing for obese interns? Rudy needs a gimmick. Maybe he should lock himself in a glass case with angry monkeys or something. See who flings the most shit. Anything.

4. John McCain - Not too clear on this one. If memory serves, McCain's saucer was shot down over Roswell New Mexico some time in the 1940's when he was on a reconnaissance mission for his native Vietnam. Basically his popularity will come down to whether he is truly a genetically engineered Vietnamese UFO pilot, or if he is as I suspect a pawn in a global lie and is really a producer of fine frozen chips (french fries).

5. Zoltar - I'm not sure if this guy is running in the election, or if I'm merely confusing politics with a villain from the 70's cartoon Battle of the Planets (aka G-Force, Science Team Gatchaman). Either way, Zoltar should have the inside edge due to being both a man and a woman depending on what's needed at any particular time. Zoltar has all of the right qualities that one would expect of an American President. He's a snappy dresser, he takes his orders from higher up, if foreign policy fails he's only too happy to send in an alien death machine and to sacrifice the lives of countless thousands of henchmen, and best of all he has the kind of evil laugh one would expect from a very small man.

So there you have it. The 5 main candidates for taking leadership of the Australian Liberal Party from Prime Idiot John Howard. Go Zoltar!

Note: *My tingling feeling is neither 'spidey sense' or herpes.

I think.

One out, one in

2007-09-24T17:30:00.000+10:00

Exit the football (rugby league) season and enter the basketball. No complaints; my team (South Sydney Rabbitohs) made the finals for the first time since 1989 and will have a stronger line-up in 2008. I'm not as ardent a basketball fan, but at least there's more of it to watch. My picks for the 07-08 season: Perth and Cairns to fight it out for the NBL title, and Nathan Jawai to take rookie of the year. Also, Patrick Mills to be the first Aboriginal / T.I player to draw interest from the NBA after a strong season, leading St. Mary's to the WCC championship in US collegiate basketball.

We're From Barcelona

2007-09-23T19:41:00.000+10:00

One of the dorkier songs I've ever come across, but it's been a favourite for months now. I just can't get the damn thing out of my head (but that's a good thing). Sometimes a song will be lodged inside my brain and drive me crazy, but this YouTube gem I can deal with. I like the video perhaps even more than the song.