They Hates Our Freedoms: Boxers vs. Briefs
The Shoe-Bomber. Now the Underpants-Bomber. These guys are scary, sure, but ineffective, inept, except at ensuring that under-trained airport and airline staff are increasingly responsible for making air travel inconvenient and uncomfortable. We shuffle through the security checks in our socks. We're subjected to mandatory pat-downs. Makes me glad I'm not traveling to the States this year. Someday the TSA will work out a way to implement an effective and efficient system of detection and prevention. If the GOP allow a director to be appointed or a bill to get them some money to be passed. But they didn't get that done when they were the majority, either.
24 December 2009
Dances with Aliens
So much for the snark, although I suppose I could go on. Avatar is terrific. I sprang for the whole Imax 3-D experience and it was totally worth it. Sure, it's 3 hours of my life, but it rocks, rolls, and left me reeling (quite literally, as I'm a bit prone to vertigo and the 3-D stuff did get to me now and then, but I was able to mostly control for it). I haven't bothered about any of the other big 3-D releases there have been lately, but having done Imax, I think I'll have to do another, just for comparison.
O.k., all science fiction movies come down to westerns in the end, and this one is no different, but seeing Sam Worthington's giant blue girlfriend crouched above his prostrate and incapacitated form, snarling at the villain in giant's armor, well, that was worth the price of admission. And while it's usually considered quite daring for an incipient leading actor to take a role that spends that much time in somebody else's face, the makeup and digital effects are such that you never lose sight of him and that each character is sufficiently distinct and recognizable, which is only a little disconcerting in the case of Sigourney Weaver.
Great stuff, a triumph - and a serious contender for Best Picture, I reckon.
So much for the snark, although I suppose I could go on. Avatar is terrific. I sprang for the whole Imax 3-D experience and it was totally worth it. Sure, it's 3 hours of my life, but it rocks, rolls, and left me reeling (quite literally, as I'm a bit prone to vertigo and the 3-D stuff did get to me now and then, but I was able to mostly control for it). I haven't bothered about any of the other big 3-D releases there have been lately, but having done Imax, I think I'll have to do another, just for comparison.
O.k., all science fiction movies come down to westerns in the end, and this one is no different, but seeing Sam Worthington's giant blue girlfriend crouched above his prostrate and incapacitated form, snarling at the villain in giant's armor, well, that was worth the price of admission. And while it's usually considered quite daring for an incipient leading actor to take a role that spends that much time in somebody else's face, the makeup and digital effects are such that you never lose sight of him and that each character is sufficiently distinct and recognizable, which is only a little disconcerting in the case of Sigourney Weaver.
Great stuff, a triumph - and a serious contender for Best Picture, I reckon.
City Views
While I was out, I took a few photos, intending to capture a bit of summer imagery.
Coming back from Kirribilli, I found that the World has come to Sydney, as, in another sense, it usually does, this time of year.
"This time of year" being the run-up to New Year's Eve, when they'll set the Harbour Bridge on fire, sort of, and reveal the logo in the centre, which, from the framework already in place, you can't really work out. The theme is captioned "Awaken the Spirit." I think I miss the disco ball.
The sun's well up by 8 a.m., and glaring off the surface of the water.
There's a similar effect looking into the city from the Botanical Gardens as there is looking across an open prospect out of NYC's Central Park, but things are a bit more open here somehow. Still, I like some of these buildings; they show a bit of flair. Although I wonder at the lack of solar panels. Wouldn't that just be smart?
The Sydney Opera House is a well-known and over-photographed construction, but it's a stand-out nevertheless.
What you don't much get, though, is how broad the forecourt is. During the days of flashmobs, I thought it would be a good place to have a large number of people walking up and down in some kind of pattern and then suddenly dispersing. Maybe with umbrellas, too.
One thing about the harbor: it's very clean. Clean-looking, anyway. I'm not inclined to try the fish.
While I was out, I took a few photos, intending to capture a bit of summer imagery.
Coming back from Kirribilli, I found that the World has come to Sydney, as, in another sense, it usually does, this time of year.
"This time of year" being the run-up to New Year's Eve, when they'll set the Harbour Bridge on fire, sort of, and reveal the logo in the centre, which, from the framework already in place, you can't really work out. The theme is captioned "Awaken the Spirit." I think I miss the disco ball.
The sun's well up by 8 a.m., and glaring off the surface of the water.
There's a similar effect looking into the city from the Botanical Gardens as there is looking across an open prospect out of NYC's Central Park, but things are a bit more open here somehow. Still, I like some of these buildings; they show a bit of flair. Although I wonder at the lack of solar panels. Wouldn't that just be smart?
The Sydney Opera House is a well-known and over-photographed construction, but it's a stand-out nevertheless.
What you don't much get, though, is how broad the forecourt is. During the days of flashmobs, I thought it would be a good place to have a large number of people walking up and down in some kind of pattern and then suddenly dispersing. Maybe with umbrellas, too.
One thing about the harbor: it's very clean. Clean-looking, anyway. I'm not inclined to try the fish.
22 December 2009
Around Town
I took a wander into the city this morning, ultimately heading over to Kirribilli, which was dull, but a nice ferry ride back, had some lunch over in the Rocks, and then spent some time at the MCA, which had a show on that I'd noticed but forgotten about and another (free) that was also worthwhile.
Almanac is a presentation of various works from the collection of Ann Lewis, a collector of some note, and provided a look at some truly excellent examples of modern Aboriginal paintings, along with some various other, locally-produced sculptures, photographs, and paintings. My local art dealer, Honeyant Gallery often has works by some of the artists presented in this show, and these were certainly fine examples, as are those Honeyant exhibits.
The other show is one by an artist who has, at least once, made me regret leaving NYC: Olafur Eliasson. Mr. Eliasson is the artist responsible for the waterfalls around NYC's waterways last year. In this show, "Take Your Time", he is working with light, and the works are, each and all collectively, such that you leave the room smiling. The yellow room has delightful and spooky illusion effects - your skin looks grey, and the rooms visible beyond look purple. The circle of light room, which changes color as you stand within in, made the blood flow in my eyes visible to me, but more importantly, as the light shifted into different colors and intensities, eliminated space, suspending me in the colors themselves, blotting out all peripheral vision spectacularly. Other bits were more simply playful, but no less delightful. I'm so glad I went.
I took a wander into the city this morning, ultimately heading over to Kirribilli, which was dull, but a nice ferry ride back, had some lunch over in the Rocks, and then spent some time at the MCA, which had a show on that I'd noticed but forgotten about and another (free) that was also worthwhile.
Almanac is a presentation of various works from the collection of Ann Lewis, a collector of some note, and provided a look at some truly excellent examples of modern Aboriginal paintings, along with some various other, locally-produced sculptures, photographs, and paintings. My local art dealer, Honeyant Gallery often has works by some of the artists presented in this show, and these were certainly fine examples, as are those Honeyant exhibits.
The other show is one by an artist who has, at least once, made me regret leaving NYC: Olafur Eliasson. Mr. Eliasson is the artist responsible for the waterfalls around NYC's waterways last year. In this show, "Take Your Time", he is working with light, and the works are, each and all collectively, such that you leave the room smiling. The yellow room has delightful and spooky illusion effects - your skin looks grey, and the rooms visible beyond look purple. The circle of light room, which changes color as you stand within in, made the blood flow in my eyes visible to me, but more importantly, as the light shifted into different colors and intensities, eliminated space, suspending me in the colors themselves, blotting out all peripheral vision spectacularly. Other bits were more simply playful, but no less delightful. I'm so glad I went.
17 December 2009
Running Hot & Cold
Kyoto was a farce, mostly because the U.S. bailing out was a great excuse for others to do the same or to do nothing. So my expectations from Copenhagen were not high, even though we have a President who recognizes the science and is willing to make an effort. Because the closer we get to actually implementing a way for every nation to participate it will indeed be the smaller, less industrialised countries that get left behind unless Europe and the U.S. are going to need to share the burden fairly and their innovations in carbon-reduction quite freely, which is unlikely to happen easily if at all. Otherwise, Third World industrialisation comes to a standstill to the point where they can’t compete and shut down entirely, leading to the worst kinds of anarchy, dispossession, and an increase in economic refugees, right alongside the waves of environmental refugees set to increase as global warming progresses, a juggernaut of inertia that carbon reduction will only slow over decades. So the haves keep what they’ve got and increase it at the expense of the have-nots, who continue to lose and lose. And then it’s still just an excuse to do nothing until we absolutely have to so it all takes that much longer and has an even more extensive effect on the less fortunate. It’s all very Aesop’s Fables.
Kyoto was a farce, mostly because the U.S. bailing out was a great excuse for others to do the same or to do nothing. So my expectations from Copenhagen were not high, even though we have a President who recognizes the science and is willing to make an effort. Because the closer we get to actually implementing a way for every nation to participate it will indeed be the smaller, less industrialised countries that get left behind unless Europe and the U.S. are going to need to share the burden fairly and their innovations in carbon-reduction quite freely, which is unlikely to happen easily if at all. Otherwise, Third World industrialisation comes to a standstill to the point where they can’t compete and shut down entirely, leading to the worst kinds of anarchy, dispossession, and an increase in economic refugees, right alongside the waves of environmental refugees set to increase as global warming progresses, a juggernaut of inertia that carbon reduction will only slow over decades. So the haves keep what they’ve got and increase it at the expense of the have-nots, who continue to lose and lose. And then it’s still just an excuse to do nothing until we absolutely have to so it all takes that much longer and has an even more extensive effect on the less fortunate. It’s all very Aesop’s Fables.
Service Interruption
I've got one day left before my annual leave starts, so when do the State Transit bus drivers decide to throw a strike? That figures. It's a Friday, and there's one last set of reports to run, and the departmental holiday picnic, and I'm seriously considering staying home. Cabs to Central will make a packet, I expect, since it's just that much too far to walk for many of us, and the trains are all that's left, but at least I work somewhere where that is an option, if a long ride with multiple transfers. And this after the change in schedule debacle that's made the drivers incapable of meeting a wide-open timetable. Oh, and fellas, many of us have foregone pay increases last year to keep our companies profitable, if not viable. Do a better job, get more sympathy.
I've got one day left before my annual leave starts, so when do the State Transit bus drivers decide to throw a strike? That figures. It's a Friday, and there's one last set of reports to run, and the departmental holiday picnic, and I'm seriously considering staying home. Cabs to Central will make a packet, I expect, since it's just that much too far to walk for many of us, and the trains are all that's left, but at least I work somewhere where that is an option, if a long ride with multiple transfers. And this after the change in schedule debacle that's made the drivers incapable of meeting a wide-open timetable. Oh, and fellas, many of us have foregone pay increases last year to keep our companies profitable, if not viable. Do a better job, get more sympathy.
10 December 2009
DIY Checkout
Local supermarket giant Coles recently introduced self-service checkout terminals and have been strongly encouraging of its customers to use them. I did, once. I may never do it again.
I pretty much do my own bagging anyway, but, as in the article linked from the BBC, that “unexpected item in bagging area” error is annoying, but only because I got caught answering “no bag” on a couple of things that I decided belonged in a separate bag from the food items I was otherwise processing. It was easy enough to rectify, but still an addition to a tedious process.
Scan. Do you want to bag this? Yes. Bag. Scan. Do you want to bag this? Yes. Bag. Scan. . . . Scan. . . . SCAN! For the love of God, Scan! No, o.k. then type in the 85-digit code, written in tiny characters that even with reading glasses I can’t see easily.
Somehow it all works so much more easily and quickly when there’s an employee present to do the scanning for you. Although the self-service option doesn’t appear to have resulted in a reduction in staff at the checkout. I was “helped” by at least two separate persons on three separate occasions – one who insisted on teaching me how to operate the machine, which is pretty obvious, and then who struggled over the scanner after seeing that the item I was attempting to purchase wouldn’t scan. (And he couldn’t enter the 500-digit code either), and another who helpfully removed items from my bag even if they weren’t actually the offending items preventing the completion of my transaction, let alone all of them.
Checkout clerks may not be terribly efficient, and nobody seems to know how to bag things properly anymore, but even when they’re surly or simply non-responsive, that’s still a better interaction than staring at an uncooperative computer.
I don’t doubt that it will be sooner rather than later nevertheless before I am all lost at the supermarket.
Local supermarket giant Coles recently introduced self-service checkout terminals and have been strongly encouraging of its customers to use them. I did, once. I may never do it again.
I pretty much do my own bagging anyway, but, as in the article linked from the BBC, that “unexpected item in bagging area” error is annoying, but only because I got caught answering “no bag” on a couple of things that I decided belonged in a separate bag from the food items I was otherwise processing. It was easy enough to rectify, but still an addition to a tedious process.
Scan. Do you want to bag this? Yes. Bag. Scan. Do you want to bag this? Yes. Bag. Scan. . . . Scan. . . . SCAN! For the love of God, Scan! No, o.k. then type in the 85-digit code, written in tiny characters that even with reading glasses I can’t see easily.
Somehow it all works so much more easily and quickly when there’s an employee present to do the scanning for you. Although the self-service option doesn’t appear to have resulted in a reduction in staff at the checkout. I was “helped” by at least two separate persons on three separate occasions – one who insisted on teaching me how to operate the machine, which is pretty obvious, and then who struggled over the scanner after seeing that the item I was attempting to purchase wouldn’t scan. (And he couldn’t enter the 500-digit code either), and another who helpfully removed items from my bag even if they weren’t actually the offending items preventing the completion of my transaction, let alone all of them.
Checkout clerks may not be terribly efficient, and nobody seems to know how to bag things properly anymore, but even when they’re surly or simply non-responsive, that’s still a better interaction than staring at an uncooperative computer.
I don’t doubt that it will be sooner rather than later nevertheless before I am all lost at the supermarket.
30 November 2009
Sippin'
So I saved loyalty points for a long time, but I finally had enough to redeem for a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.
It's lovely packaging, with a slip-case box, a brochure, and a special bottle-top seal . . . that I just can't bring myself to break. There I was with a week off from work, and I couldn't even try it. AU$200 means, as a known cheapskate, that I may have this around for some time to come, absent a good reason to tear through the foil. Meanwhile, it's very pretty, and it won't go bad, so, what? bids open? Any whiskey fans on their way to visit (with whom I want to share, keep in mind)?
So I saved loyalty points for a long time, but I finally had enough to redeem for a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.
It's lovely packaging, with a slip-case box, a brochure, and a special bottle-top seal . . . that I just can't bring myself to break. There I was with a week off from work, and I couldn't even try it. AU$200 means, as a known cheapskate, that I may have this around for some time to come, absent a good reason to tear through the foil. Meanwhile, it's very pretty, and it won't go bad, so, what? bids open? Any whiskey fans on their way to visit (with whom I want to share, keep in mind)?
29 November 2009
Big Pictures
Terry Gilliam does not suffer from a lack of imagination, but more remarkably he has been an accomplished director pretty much right from the start, with little in the way of duds, except, mainly, as a writer, and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus" is another example of one of his fully-realized efforts, all the more remarkable for having lost a principal actor during filming. Heath Ledger had the potential to become a great actor of our generation, in fact, he was one, just didn't get the chance to prove it as extensively as his contemporaries will have had. The "replacement" performances by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell only prove the point, much as they also serve to prove how adroit Gilliam himself can be, their insertions only fueling the imaginative sequences they serve in. There are a couple of (more or less major) loose ends and at least one plot hole, but they don't really matter. Oh, and casting Tom Waits as the devil is very effective, if not entirely imaginative.
Terry Gilliam does not suffer from a lack of imagination, but more remarkably he has been an accomplished director pretty much right from the start, with little in the way of duds, except, mainly, as a writer, and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus" is another example of one of his fully-realized efforts, all the more remarkable for having lost a principal actor during filming. Heath Ledger had the potential to become a great actor of our generation, in fact, he was one, just didn't get the chance to prove it as extensively as his contemporaries will have had. The "replacement" performances by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell only prove the point, much as they also serve to prove how adroit Gilliam himself can be, their insertions only fueling the imaginative sequences they serve in. There are a couple of (more or less major) loose ends and at least one plot hole, but they don't really matter. Oh, and casting Tom Waits as the devil is very effective, if not entirely imaginative.
Leader of the Pack
The Liberals are in disarray, as they have been since Labor took government, and I can't say much of Malcolm Turnbull's performance: he's generally just been cheap and petty, bringing nothing to his role in opposition of his reputed acumen. But he did manage to wrest concessions from Kevin Rudd on the emissions trading scheme and seemed to have his party lined up to put it into law. Suddenly, not so much. Joe Hockey leads for a challenge on Tuesday, with Tony Abbott not far behind, and following a spill attempt last week. Joe's a bully, and it seems an unprincipled one, too, now reneging on his acknowledgment of climate change and previous agreement to vote Labor's legislation in, but Abbott's worse. I have a sneaking preference for Abbott to take the leadership, if only because I don't think he could take the Liberals into government, but if he did: disaster. Abbott as PM would put the far right faction on the Liberals into a position of power even Howard managed to avoid, and the country would see a reversion to the 1950's in all the worst ways. Of course, I wouldn't put it past him to be announcing his ambitions only to act as a spoiler for someone else, Kevin Andrews maybe? Or even to enhance Hockey's chances? Still, even Hockey's support for labor-relations reform wouldn't be as damaging as the kinds of things Abbott would surely attempt. Nevertheless, I'd like to see Turnbull stay on. I think he has potential, if he'd step up his game, which would also see the Liberals move into a more viable position of contention at the next election. A strong opposition is the only way we get anything serious done.
Update: Tony Abbott wins, nation loses. Double dissolution, anyone?
The Liberals are in disarray, as they have been since Labor took government, and I can't say much of Malcolm Turnbull's performance: he's generally just been cheap and petty, bringing nothing to his role in opposition of his reputed acumen. But he did manage to wrest concessions from Kevin Rudd on the emissions trading scheme and seemed to have his party lined up to put it into law. Suddenly, not so much. Joe Hockey leads for a challenge on Tuesday, with Tony Abbott not far behind, and following a spill attempt last week. Joe's a bully, and it seems an unprincipled one, too, now reneging on his acknowledgment of climate change and previous agreement to vote Labor's legislation in, but Abbott's worse. I have a sneaking preference for Abbott to take the leadership, if only because I don't think he could take the Liberals into government, but if he did: disaster. Abbott as PM would put the far right faction on the Liberals into a position of power even Howard managed to avoid, and the country would see a reversion to the 1950's in all the worst ways. Of course, I wouldn't put it past him to be announcing his ambitions only to act as a spoiler for someone else, Kevin Andrews maybe? Or even to enhance Hockey's chances? Still, even Hockey's support for labor-relations reform wouldn't be as damaging as the kinds of things Abbott would surely attempt. Nevertheless, I'd like to see Turnbull stay on. I think he has potential, if he'd step up his game, which would also see the Liberals move into a more viable position of contention at the next election. A strong opposition is the only way we get anything serious done.
Update: Tony Abbott wins, nation loses. Double dissolution, anyone?
28 November 2009
Drawing Leviathan
M. and I took in A Serious Man yesterday, and it may be the best movie I've seen all year. Painful, if still humorous, and desperate to the point of breathlessness, following Larry Gopnik's Job-like progression into the abyss, reminiscent in many ways of William Macy's character in Fargo, you can't help rooting for the guy, hoping it will all turn around for him, and maybe it will or maybe it's all just about to come completely unstuck. Like the critics whose reviews I've read, I don't know what the ghost story's about at the beginning or how it fits in with the rest, but other than that, this is a fine return to form from the Coens - or better yet, a serious movie from them for what may be the first time ever. Not to be missed.
M. and I took in A Serious Man yesterday, and it may be the best movie I've seen all year. Painful, if still humorous, and desperate to the point of breathlessness, following Larry Gopnik's Job-like progression into the abyss, reminiscent in many ways of William Macy's character in Fargo, you can't help rooting for the guy, hoping it will all turn around for him, and maybe it will or maybe it's all just about to come completely unstuck. Like the critics whose reviews I've read, I don't know what the ghost story's about at the beginning or how it fits in with the rest, but other than that, this is a fine return to form from the Coens - or better yet, a serious movie from them for what may be the first time ever. Not to be missed.
24 November 2009
Sydney Tourism
I've been trying to get some time off for two months now and have finally gotten what I wanted. So after throwing a day on gardening - there was a tree out front that fell over and tore up the planter it was in, the Council requiring intervention, which meant taking it down, but which also meant leaving a pile of dirt in front of unit 2, so I shoveled everything aside, built a new planter, and re-filled it - I took today to accomplish the Spit-to-Manly walk. Technically, it's the Manly-to-Spit walk, but that really depends on orientation. Being a south-harbour person, I'm Spit-to-Manly. This has the advantage of being able to the get the ferry back to Circular Quay, instead of having to ride the bus, which is bad enough as it is.
Anyway, it's about 10 kilometers along the northern foreshore, but that doesn't really do it justice. This is trail, not just sidewalks and beach and such. Yes, the national parks system has made improvements, some of which are just taking advantage of what's already there and some being the importation of cut or dressed stone. In fact, about four kilometers out from Manly, there were great giant sacks of cut stone, dressed stone, and gravel, tons of the stuff, that, having done the walk, I can't imagine reaching their present resting places by anything other than helicopter.
This is the view back about two kilometers from the start, the Spit Bridge. The Spit is a promintory, finally bridged only sometime around WWII, and which even now forms an immense traffic bottleneck unlikely to be fully resolved any time soon. It's a drawbridge, but also reduces four lanes to two, so a considerable number of commuters spend some portion of their time, having preferenced land travel over taking a ferry, to crawling painfully across a narrow strait, one that took me five minutes to walk, and that was at eight a.m., which Sydney somehow doesn't consider rush hour.
I was hopeful of seeing wildlife, but all I got was this stinking lizard.
Oh, and a big ol' kookaburra.
'bout the size of a small chicken.
By this time, I was about halfway through, sweating heavily, even though the southerly had brought the temperature back down to a reasonable level and it was still only about ten o'clock, with a fine misty rain coming down. Having passed some aboriginal rock etchings, I'd also come upon a more recent example of man's incursions, although in this instance, one that was more a question of taking advantage of what was already there.
All along the track there are examples of this, caves, or half-caves, anyway, cut away but erosion over millions of years, but which came into modern notice with the Great Depression, during which many men took to the bush, trapping what they could, and sheltering where great forces had left natural protection for them. No sign of graffiti, as such, but I suppose those who dwelt within had much more on their minds than making a mark.
Nice view, eh?
From here, it's all downhill. Through all you see, around the point, around a couple of coves, and it's home-free to Manly. This was the end of the hardest part of the track, and there was still over four kilometers to go. I was drenched in sweat and drizzling rain, overheated, but looking forward to arriving at the Corso in time for lunch. The guide-signs laid out a 4.5 hour walk, but I was done in three, which gave me time to catch the ferry back home for a better lunch than was on offer on the north shore and many sore muscles.
I've been trying to get some time off for two months now and have finally gotten what I wanted. So after throwing a day on gardening - there was a tree out front that fell over and tore up the planter it was in, the Council requiring intervention, which meant taking it down, but which also meant leaving a pile of dirt in front of unit 2, so I shoveled everything aside, built a new planter, and re-filled it - I took today to accomplish the Spit-to-Manly walk. Technically, it's the Manly-to-Spit walk, but that really depends on orientation. Being a south-harbour person, I'm Spit-to-Manly. This has the advantage of being able to the get the ferry back to Circular Quay, instead of having to ride the bus, which is bad enough as it is.
Anyway, it's about 10 kilometers along the northern foreshore, but that doesn't really do it justice. This is trail, not just sidewalks and beach and such. Yes, the national parks system has made improvements, some of which are just taking advantage of what's already there and some being the importation of cut or dressed stone. In fact, about four kilometers out from Manly, there were great giant sacks of cut stone, dressed stone, and gravel, tons of the stuff, that, having done the walk, I can't imagine reaching their present resting places by anything other than helicopter.
This is the view back about two kilometers from the start, the Spit Bridge. The Spit is a promintory, finally bridged only sometime around WWII, and which even now forms an immense traffic bottleneck unlikely to be fully resolved any time soon. It's a drawbridge, but also reduces four lanes to two, so a considerable number of commuters spend some portion of their time, having preferenced land travel over taking a ferry, to crawling painfully across a narrow strait, one that took me five minutes to walk, and that was at eight a.m., which Sydney somehow doesn't consider rush hour.
I was hopeful of seeing wildlife, but all I got was this stinking lizard.
Oh, and a big ol' kookaburra.
'bout the size of a small chicken.
By this time, I was about halfway through, sweating heavily, even though the southerly had brought the temperature back down to a reasonable level and it was still only about ten o'clock, with a fine misty rain coming down. Having passed some aboriginal rock etchings, I'd also come upon a more recent example of man's incursions, although in this instance, one that was more a question of taking advantage of what was already there.
All along the track there are examples of this, caves, or half-caves, anyway, cut away but erosion over millions of years, but which came into modern notice with the Great Depression, during which many men took to the bush, trapping what they could, and sheltering where great forces had left natural protection for them. No sign of graffiti, as such, but I suppose those who dwelt within had much more on their minds than making a mark.
Nice view, eh?
From here, it's all downhill. Through all you see, around the point, around a couple of coves, and it's home-free to Manly. This was the end of the hardest part of the track, and there was still over four kilometers to go. I was drenched in sweat and drizzling rain, overheated, but looking forward to arriving at the Corso in time for lunch. The guide-signs laid out a 4.5 hour walk, but I was done in three, which gave me time to catch the ferry back home for a better lunch than was on offer on the north shore and many sore muscles.
08 November 2009
Art & Vandalism
Graffiti is not art. Not all graffiti is graffiti, though. “Tagging” most certainly is graffiti, but stencils, wheat-paste postering, individual or group murals defy easy categorisation as graffiti. These show style, competency with the media, and often have an intended purpose that is definitely not about asserting the artist’s ownership or presence in the world as such. But graffiti costs money to clean up, looks ugly as sin, and can get people hurt; the acrobatics required to get your tag on a wall can be impressive. So we go too far in prevention and punishment. I despise “zero tolerance” measures equally with some of the stupidity they’re meant to reduce.
There’s a Sean Penn-Robert Duvall movie called “Colors,” in which Sean Penn, new cop on the block, confronts a street gang graffitist and spray-paints the kid’s face. Now that’s a punishment worth trying, although I guess it’s really child abuse.
Instead, I like the technology-driven solutions already in place. A scout hall here in Sydney has walls that can detect the application of paint and send an alert to the local precinct, which, in a recent case, brought the cops to the location while the tagging was still underway. Cart the kids home and summons the parents, I reckon, with community service imposed on the kids. No jail. No paint-in-the face. Just a lesson.
Graffiti is not art. Not all graffiti is graffiti, though. “Tagging” most certainly is graffiti, but stencils, wheat-paste postering, individual or group murals defy easy categorisation as graffiti. These show style, competency with the media, and often have an intended purpose that is definitely not about asserting the artist’s ownership or presence in the world as such. But graffiti costs money to clean up, looks ugly as sin, and can get people hurt; the acrobatics required to get your tag on a wall can be impressive. So we go too far in prevention and punishment. I despise “zero tolerance” measures equally with some of the stupidity they’re meant to reduce.
There’s a Sean Penn-Robert Duvall movie called “Colors,” in which Sean Penn, new cop on the block, confronts a street gang graffitist and spray-paints the kid’s face. Now that’s a punishment worth trying, although I guess it’s really child abuse.
Instead, I like the technology-driven solutions already in place. A scout hall here in Sydney has walls that can detect the application of paint and send an alert to the local precinct, which, in a recent case, brought the cops to the location while the tagging was still underway. Cart the kids home and summons the parents, I reckon, with community service imposed on the kids. No jail. No paint-in-the face. Just a lesson.
Your Company Sucks
There are websites available where you can post the name of a company that seriously does a bad job at what they do, and Sydney Buses deserves top honors. Following a complete schedule change on 11 October, not one bus has been anything like on time. This morning, on my way to Olympic Park, three arrived ten minutes past the posted time for two others, and those two were not among them. Every morning, I get to my stop for the run to the office well before the scheduled departure, and my bus is regularly five to ten minutes late. This is at seven a.m., so don't tell me it's traffic. The schedule provides a lot more leeway, too, so there can be no excuses. Since NSW can't run the trains well, it seems they're now determined to screw up the bus system, too.
There are websites available where you can post the name of a company that seriously does a bad job at what they do, and Sydney Buses deserves top honors. Following a complete schedule change on 11 October, not one bus has been anything like on time. This morning, on my way to Olympic Park, three arrived ten minutes past the posted time for two others, and those two were not among them. Every morning, I get to my stop for the run to the office well before the scheduled departure, and my bus is regularly five to ten minutes late. This is at seven a.m., so don't tell me it's traffic. The schedule provides a lot more leeway, too, so there can be no excuses. Since NSW can't run the trains well, it seems they're now determined to screw up the bus system, too.
Summer Shutdown
Now that the Run 4 Fun is over, running may be more off than on as the weather heats up. Although we've had a reasonably cool spring so far this year, temperatures are sure to rise over the next three months, leaving lunch hours too hot for any outdoor workouts. Maybe I'll sign on with the personal trainers in the complex next door to the office. AU$43 for a half-hour session also give me gym access, so it's not too expensive, although I reckon it's still more on the dear side than not.
Anyway, the Sun-Herald-sponsored Run 4 Fun was a good event to finish the year on, although for a race with only a few hundred runners, the start was slow. The finish, through the "champions entry" into ANZ stadium (the underground car park, actually), was sort of disappointingly short across the grass of the field, but I shouldn't complain, as I managed to come through at something like a 5:30/Km pace - by my watch, anyway. Official chip time when it become available.
Update: 54:02: for me, blistering.
Now that the Run 4 Fun is over, running may be more off than on as the weather heats up. Although we've had a reasonably cool spring so far this year, temperatures are sure to rise over the next three months, leaving lunch hours too hot for any outdoor workouts. Maybe I'll sign on with the personal trainers in the complex next door to the office. AU$43 for a half-hour session also give me gym access, so it's not too expensive, although I reckon it's still more on the dear side than not.
Anyway, the Sun-Herald-sponsored Run 4 Fun was a good event to finish the year on, although for a race with only a few hundred runners, the start was slow. The finish, through the "champions entry" into ANZ stadium (the underground car park, actually), was sort of disappointingly short across the grass of the field, but I shouldn't complain, as I managed to come through at something like a 5:30/Km pace - by my watch, anyway. Official chip time when it become available.
Update: 54:02: for me, blistering.
25 October 2009
Seven Bridges for Seven Hours
Well, that's how long it would have taken, if I'd finished the walk, but the day took a turn that ultimately decided me against going on.
It took me more than half an hour to get to the start of the course. I'd originally planned on starting at Pyrmont, but Rozelle was closer, really, so I hiked down to the City Link West where the course comes in after the Anzac Bridge, pictured above. At that point, coming through the grounds of the old psychiatric hospital, my camera batteries died, so I was forced to consider lugging the thing dead or taking a detour. I reckoned there'd be a shop somewhere, but I've done this stretch on my bike, so didn't anticipate much in the way of shopping for some time. Luckily, a brief excursion before Iron Cove provided the needed electrical resource and I was back on track with only about twenty minutes lost in the wrong direction.
This is something of a controversial bridge at the moment, as the State Labor Government has decided to build a new bridge. It's always a problem to lay in one while still using the other, and as far as I know continuing to do so, thereby inevitably increasing traffic, even if easing some congestion - that's six lanes squeezing into four to cross the bay. Residents are upset, but that's not helping anyone.
The picture doesn't do the bridge justice: it's a steep arc, and long.
The view, however, is terrific, especially with the jacarandas in bloom.
It's not far to the next bridge, but from here on until the Harbour Bridge, we're on the North Shore, so the suburbs start to get a bit ritzier. Interestingly, the view shows very little in the way of solar panels, something you'd think even the rich would take advantage of in this country, but it did show a lot of pools.
Fig Tree bridge isn't terribly special, but it's the last bridge (other than a few pedestrian walkways) I crossed on foot today. Shortly after this crossing, the promised thunder storms started to announce themselves, soon developing into a torrential downpour.
Somewhere between the Lane Cove rest area and Fig Tree Bridge, the planners had created a diversion - and I took the road less traveled, mostly because the one I, and about a dozen or so others, took was way off the mark. At this point, the rain was coming down very hard, so with no umbrella or jacket I was soaked through. Checking the map showed I had probably less than a kilometer to rejoin the route, so I headed up, figuring there might be a tent or shop awnings, or something to shelter in. I stood under an awning for about half an hour, but the gentle breeze that had kept me cool in the earlier stretches was now making my teeth chatter. The shuttle buses laid on for the event were all going in the wrong direction, so I figured: stay moving and keep warm or stand still and freeze.
I reached Wollstonecraft just as the rain finally stopped, so I thought I'd just keep going. I'd done about a third of the walk at this point, so why not? So I walked past the train station, determined to finish.
That didn't happen. Before I'd gone even a little way, the rain started up again. I got to Waverton, where I could pick up a train, and ditched. On the deserted platform, I took off my shirt and wrung it out. Even standing still, the water collected in my shoes and trousers pressed out by gravity and formed a pool around me. Other passengers filtering in gave me a look and detoured widely from my vicinity - and, yes, I did have my shirt back on. I was on a train, then a bus, and home in fairly short order, everything wet through.
Next year I will plan this better. Like bring an umbrella and dress in loose synthetics. Hope you enjoy the pictures.
Well, that's how long it would have taken, if I'd finished the walk, but the day took a turn that ultimately decided me against going on.
It took me more than half an hour to get to the start of the course. I'd originally planned on starting at Pyrmont, but Rozelle was closer, really, so I hiked down to the City Link West where the course comes in after the Anzac Bridge, pictured above. At that point, coming through the grounds of the old psychiatric hospital, my camera batteries died, so I was forced to consider lugging the thing dead or taking a detour. I reckoned there'd be a shop somewhere, but I've done this stretch on my bike, so didn't anticipate much in the way of shopping for some time. Luckily, a brief excursion before Iron Cove provided the needed electrical resource and I was back on track with only about twenty minutes lost in the wrong direction.This is something of a controversial bridge at the moment, as the State Labor Government has decided to build a new bridge. It's always a problem to lay in one while still using the other, and as far as I know continuing to do so, thereby inevitably increasing traffic, even if easing some congestion - that's six lanes squeezing into four to cross the bay. Residents are upset, but that's not helping anyone.The picture doesn't do the bridge justice: it's a steep arc, and long.The view, however, is terrific, especially with the jacarandas in bloom.It's not far to the next bridge, but from here on until the Harbour Bridge, we're on the North Shore, so the suburbs start to get a bit ritzier. Interestingly, the view shows very little in the way of solar panels, something you'd think even the rich would take advantage of in this country, but it did show a lot of pools.Fig Tree bridge isn't terribly special, but it's the last bridge (other than a few pedestrian walkways) I crossed on foot today. Shortly after this crossing, the promised thunder storms started to announce themselves, soon developing into a torrential downpour.Somewhere between the Lane Cove rest area and Fig Tree Bridge, the planners had created a diversion - and I took the road less traveled, mostly because the one I, and about a dozen or so others, took was way off the mark. At this point, the rain was coming down very hard, so with no umbrella or jacket I was soaked through. Checking the map showed I had probably less than a kilometer to rejoin the route, so I headed up, figuring there might be a tent or shop awnings, or something to shelter in. I stood under an awning for about half an hour, but the gentle breeze that had kept me cool in the earlier stretches was now making my teeth chatter. The shuttle buses laid on for the event were all going in the wrong direction, so I figured: stay moving and keep warm or stand still and freeze. I reached Wollstonecraft just as the rain finally stopped, so I thought I'd just keep going. I'd done about a third of the walk at this point, so why not? So I walked past the train station, determined to finish.
That didn't happen. Before I'd gone even a little way, the rain started up again. I got to Waverton, where I could pick up a train, and ditched. On the deserted platform, I took off my shirt and wrung it out. Even standing still, the water collected in my shoes and trousers pressed out by gravity and formed a pool around me. Other passengers filtering in gave me a look and detoured widely from my vicinity - and, yes, I did have my shirt back on. I was on a train, then a bus, and home in fairly short order, everything wet through.
Next year I will plan this better. Like bring an umbrella and dress in loose synthetics. Hope you enjoy the pictures.
24 October 2009
Around Town
I had such a good time at the State Library in Melbourne, I thought I really ought to check out Sydney's NSW Library. Nowhere near as good. A lot of it was inaccessible, due to renovations or some such, but even what I could see presented none of the grandeur Melbourne put into theirs. Oh, well, it was a nice walk along Macquarie Street, where I could stop and say hello to Dribbles the boar.
As long as I was in a photographing mood, I brought my camera up to the office the following Monday. The industrial park where I work is notable mainly for two things: proximity to Lane Cove National Park and CSIRO, Australia's Commonwealth Science and Research Organisation, which is a number of buildings put up over the years, where experiments of one kind or another are conducted, with some evidence, based on the signage, at this location, that the focus is on food and food resources. "Wealth from Oceans" is one such.
I don't know what they're cooking in this place, but from the effect on the exhaust pipes, it's well done.
And I'm not sure, because I've never seen it in use or any evidence of recent usage, what this wall of glass might be about, but each pane is fitted with a fire suppression sprinkler head, which is my only clue.
Tomorrow is the Seven Bridges Walk, which should be fun and offer more chances to take pictures of stuff. 25 kilometers of stuff, seven of which are bridges, so it'll be a good day. If those thunderstorms hold off.
I had such a good time at the State Library in Melbourne, I thought I really ought to check out Sydney's NSW Library. Nowhere near as good. A lot of it was inaccessible, due to renovations or some such, but even what I could see presented none of the grandeur Melbourne put into theirs. Oh, well, it was a nice walk along Macquarie Street, where I could stop and say hello to Dribbles the boar.
As long as I was in a photographing mood, I brought my camera up to the office the following Monday. The industrial park where I work is notable mainly for two things: proximity to Lane Cove National Park and CSIRO, Australia's Commonwealth Science and Research Organisation, which is a number of buildings put up over the years, where experiments of one kind or another are conducted, with some evidence, based on the signage, at this location, that the focus is on food and food resources. "Wealth from Oceans" is one such.
I don't know what they're cooking in this place, but from the effect on the exhaust pipes, it's well done.
And I'm not sure, because I've never seen it in use or any evidence of recent usage, what this wall of glass might be about, but each pane is fitted with a fire suppression sprinkler head, which is my only clue.
Tomorrow is the Seven Bridges Walk, which should be fun and offer more chances to take pictures of stuff. 25 kilometers of stuff, seven of which are bridges, so it'll be a good day. If those thunderstorms hold off.
20 October 2009
Movie Money
The Australian dollar used to get us a lot of blockbuster development, but it's been growing more powerful than a locomotive lately, or at least more powerful than Green Lantern's power ring can handle (even when Hal Jordan's being played by an Aussie).
Must be those gold coins and $50 notes.
The Australian dollar used to get us a lot of blockbuster development, but it's been growing more powerful than a locomotive lately, or at least more powerful than Green Lantern's power ring can handle (even when Hal Jordan's being played by an Aussie).
Must be those gold coins and $50 notes.
10 October 2009
Playing Politics
Anyone who doesn't understand that the Nobel Peace Prize is political is deluded. Hell, the Literature prize is political. (Who's the last American who won that? Toni Morrison? And her body of work is superior to Joyce Carol Oates, John Updike? Think about why she got it.) So picking Obama this year as for the Prize Committee to exert influence in the world isn't new, isn't really surprising, and probably isn't worth of the wroth and derision it's getting some places. ZOMG, what next? Professional athletes in the Olympics? Steroids in the Tour de France? Save the confected outrage and recognise that the current President of the U.S. may not have saved the world and can't, but he has changed the terms and tone of the debate about America and international relations in ways you haven't and won't, and hasn't even been in office for a year. Congratulations, Mr. President; along with the Committee, I hope you live up to it, even just a little.
ContinuedRemarkable how many people think they know better than the administrators of the prize what the prize "has to be" awarded for, what rules should apply, and who is or isn't an eligible recipient.
Anyone who doesn't understand that the Nobel Peace Prize is political is deluded. Hell, the Literature prize is political. (Who's the last American who won that? Toni Morrison? And her body of work is superior to Joyce Carol Oates, John Updike? Think about why she got it.) So picking Obama this year as for the Prize Committee to exert influence in the world isn't new, isn't really surprising, and probably isn't worth of the wroth and derision it's getting some places. ZOMG, what next? Professional athletes in the Olympics? Steroids in the Tour de France? Save the confected outrage and recognise that the current President of the U.S. may not have saved the world and can't, but he has changed the terms and tone of the debate about America and international relations in ways you haven't and won't, and hasn't even been in office for a year. Congratulations, Mr. President; along with the Committee, I hope you live up to it, even just a little.
ContinuedRemarkable how many people think they know better than the administrators of the prize what the prize "has to be" awarded for, what rules should apply, and who is or isn't an eligible recipient.
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