Came So Far, But No Further
Last night was M.’s first inside the concert hall of the Sydney Opera House (my second time; the first having been to see Laurie Anderson – of all performers – two years ago), where we saw the Sydney Festival’s “Came So Far For Beauty,” an all-star tribute concert to Leonard Cohen, featuring Nick Cave; Beth Orton; Rufus Wainwright; Rufus’s mom and auntie, Kate & Anna McGarrigle (and his sister, Martha); Linda Thompson and her son, Teddy; Jarvis Cocker (son of Joe); and others, none of whom I recognized, even when I could hear their names announced or see in the program I’d read over the shoulders of people in the rows ahead. It doesn’t matter much, because I wasn’t particularly impressed, so won’t be going out to buy any of their albums any time soon.
The Opera House is probably just a bad venue for amplified music, but the sound was terrible. I don’t know if the technician they had on the board was a hack or doing the best he could with bad acoustics, but the band was mixed well over the vocals and the backup singers (often Martha Wainwright by herself or with Julie Christiansen and Pearl Batalla) mixed as if they were singing the lead. Martha Wainwright has to be among the most annoying singers of all, not just for her Joe-Cockeresque writhing and stamping, but for her abuse of her own range, spending so much time at the top her singing was coming out of her nose. When she toned things down she wasn’t half bad, but did that only rarely, much to the detriment of anyone she accompanied, including her mother & auntie. I’ve long liked the McGarrigles, but you couldn’t hear much from them all night.
Linda Thompson has lost her voice, if this concert was any indication; Beth Orton was lost in the mix for the most part; Rufus Wainwright gets a nice blues mumble going but too loud, overwhelming the melodies; does anybody here know the Handsome Family (or care?) Teddy Thompson, however, was very good whenever he came out on stage, but wasn’t given much to do. Jarvis Cocker was also good (but who was the guy whose contortionist routine looked like Jarvis’s dad?), and Nick Cave sang well, too (although I’m still convinced he was reading “Suzanne”), but spent most of his time on stage dancing around singing with his back to the audience – did the band pay for their seats, too?
After 3 ½ hours – on a school night – it was all more than we could take. Hal Wilner’s staging, which allowed the musicians to come and go without any discernable pattern and in configurations that didn’t always work well together, produced a messy concert experience, draining the songs of the pleasure they normally impart. I would have preferred, in the end, to have each act come out, perform a few songs, and leave the stage for the next singer, and with no large ensemble numbers.
31 January 2005
Baghdad Ballots
Despite mortar attacks and at least 36 dead, Iraq has reportedly achieved a 57% voter turnout in yesterday’s elections, and many among them are hopeful of a resolution to their present situation. Me, too, whomever gets elected. (I wonder if finger-ink would help towards a smoother process in the States?)
Despite mortar attacks and at least 36 dead, Iraq has reportedly achieved a 57% voter turnout in yesterday’s elections, and many among them are hopeful of a resolution to their present situation. Me, too, whomever gets elected. (I wonder if finger-ink would help towards a smoother process in the States?)
27 January 2005
Editorial Policy
In the previous post you might notice that I've linked to Barnes & Noble's on-line listing for A Confederacy of Dunces rather than Amazon's, which would once have been more the norm, and is often the site to appear at the top of a Google search. That's because Amazon's 41% red, and I try to buy blue. (B&N isn't on their list, but I recall seeing them elsewhere as being substantially blue. Can't find the link, but if it turns up, I'll post it.)
In the previous post you might notice that I've linked to Barnes & Noble's on-line listing for A Confederacy of Dunces rather than Amazon's, which would once have been more the norm, and is often the site to appear at the top of a Google search. That's because Amazon's 41% red, and I try to buy blue. (B&N isn't on their list, but I recall seeing them elsewhere as being substantially blue. Can't find the link, but if it turns up, I'll post it.)
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
Actually, only Australia Day, but it still counts. M. & I went up to see Sideways, and you know any movie that can successfully reference A Confederacy of Dunces is o.k. by me. O.k., sure, yes, there was more to it. It's very character-driven and very much a writerly movie, which latter I guess makes sense, given that it's an adaptation of a novel. The characters were people I could see in my own life, not least because I have friends like Jack and often feel like Miles in dealing with them. Mostly, though, I just enjoyed the dialog and the humor. It should probably get at least one award, most likely adapted screenplay, but Thomas Hayden Church is a deserving candidate for supporting actor, too.
Actually, only Australia Day, but it still counts. M. & I went up to see Sideways, and you know any movie that can successfully reference A Confederacy of Dunces is o.k. by me. O.k., sure, yes, there was more to it. It's very character-driven and very much a writerly movie, which latter I guess makes sense, given that it's an adaptation of a novel. The characters were people I could see in my own life, not least because I have friends like Jack and often feel like Miles in dealing with them. Mostly, though, I just enjoyed the dialog and the humor. It should probably get at least one award, most likely adapted screenplay, but Thomas Hayden Church is a deserving candidate for supporting actor, too.
25 January 2005
Study Them, Learn Them, Live Them
Australians all let us rejoice,
For we are young and free;
We've golden soil and wealth for toil,
Our home is girt by sea;
Our land abounds in Nature's gifts
Of beauty rich and rare;
In history's page, let every stage
Advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing,
"Advance Australia fair!"
When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd,
To trace wide oceans o'er,
True British courage bore him on,
Till he landed on our shore.
Then here he raised Old England's flag,
The standard of the brave;
With all her faults we love her still,
"Brittannia rules the wave!"
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Beneath our radiant southern Cross,
We'll toil with hearts and hands;
To make this Commonwealth of ours
Renowned of all the lands;
For those who've come across the seas
We've boundless plains to share;
With courage let us all combine
To advance Australia fair.
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
While other nations of the globe
Behold us from afar,
We'll rise to high renown and shine
Like our glorious southern star;
From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,
Who come our lot to share,
Let all combine with heart and hand
To advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,
Or dare a foot to land,
We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore
To guard our native strand;
Brittannia then shall surely know,
Beyond wide ocean's roll,
Her sons in fair Australia's land
Still keep a British soul.
In joyful strains the let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Does anyone ever sing the whole thing at national events and so forth? What do all the Italians and Greeks think of the Brittania stuff? Nevermind. Happy Australia Day. Now, let's watch the cricket.
Australians all let us rejoice,
For we are young and free;
We've golden soil and wealth for toil,
Our home is girt by sea;
Our land abounds in Nature's gifts
Of beauty rich and rare;
In history's page, let every stage
Advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing,
"Advance Australia fair!"
When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd,
To trace wide oceans o'er,
True British courage bore him on,
Till he landed on our shore.
Then here he raised Old England's flag,
The standard of the brave;
With all her faults we love her still,
"Brittannia rules the wave!"
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Beneath our radiant southern Cross,
We'll toil with hearts and hands;
To make this Commonwealth of ours
Renowned of all the lands;
For those who've come across the seas
We've boundless plains to share;
With courage let us all combine
To advance Australia fair.
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
While other nations of the globe
Behold us from afar,
We'll rise to high renown and shine
Like our glorious southern star;
From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,
Who come our lot to share,
Let all combine with heart and hand
To advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,
Or dare a foot to land,
We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore
To guard our native strand;
Brittannia then shall surely know,
Beyond wide ocean's roll,
Her sons in fair Australia's land
Still keep a British soul.
In joyful strains the let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"
Does anyone ever sing the whole thing at national events and so forth? What do all the Italians and Greeks think of the Brittania stuff? Nevermind. Happy Australia Day. Now, let's watch the cricket.
21 January 2005
Local Weather Update
Last night a series of thundershowers rolled through, drenching the city periodically from about 6 p.m. late into the night. There were high winds and some power lines down. Summer in the sub-tropics.
Last night a series of thundershowers rolled through, drenching the city periodically from about 6 p.m. late into the night. There were high winds and some power lines down. Summer in the sub-tropics.
Self-Referential Medium
‘Blogging’s fun. No, I mean it; I really enjoy this – the technical stuff not so much, maybe, but writing every day, trying to be clever, to be up-to-date, to release information into the wild for others to enjoy, to keep up with friends and family. But it is really only about me, in the end, regardless of the subject of any one post or set, and that’s largely true of most other ‘blogs. So I don’t think I’ll be attending Blog Talk Downunder, particularly as the topics to be presented in the papers they’re calling for don’t have much appeal. Perhaps that’s unimaginative. I do this from the office enough that I ought to be considering ways of doing it for a living, right? The hotel they’re booking for visitors, however, is just around the corner, so I’ll have to keep an eye out for social events to hobnob with my brother and sister ‘bloggers. Maybe I’ll do a education-themed paper on the use of apostrophes in weblogs.
‘Blogging’s fun. No, I mean it; I really enjoy this – the technical stuff not so much, maybe, but writing every day, trying to be clever, to be up-to-date, to release information into the wild for others to enjoy, to keep up with friends and family. But it is really only about me, in the end, regardless of the subject of any one post or set, and that’s largely true of most other ‘blogs. So I don’t think I’ll be attending Blog Talk Downunder, particularly as the topics to be presented in the papers they’re calling for don’t have much appeal. Perhaps that’s unimaginative. I do this from the office enough that I ought to be considering ways of doing it for a living, right? The hotel they’re booking for visitors, however, is just around the corner, so I’ll have to keep an eye out for social events to hobnob with my brother and sister ‘bloggers. Maybe I’ll do a education-themed paper on the use of apostrophes in weblogs.
But, Mom . . .
Make your bed, make your bed. . . . Morning after morning, and now? A good reason to leave the bed unmade. Dust mites are an allergen and have been linked to asthma. Improve your health by being a slob. Excellent. (And if this works, eternal thanks to Dan Lyke.)
Make your bed, make your bed. . . . Morning after morning, and now? A good reason to leave the bed unmade. Dust mites are an allergen and have been linked to asthma. Improve your health by being a slob. Excellent. (And if this works, eternal thanks to Dan Lyke.)
20 January 2005
New Local Celebrity
Getting a bit of radio air time around the country, "Dream on Black Girl" is a new 'blog on the Australian scene, authored by a young Aboriginal woman in Sydney. I'm checking in periodically, and getting an earful, and recommend others do the same.
Getting a bit of radio air time around the country, "Dream on Black Girl" is a new 'blog on the Australian scene, authored by a young Aboriginal woman in Sydney. I'm checking in periodically, and getting an earful, and recommend others do the same.
Weimar on Walsh Bay
Last night was supposed to be dinner with friends, but out of nowhere, two free tickets to the Sydney Festival’s production of The Black Rider turned up. At first it appeared they’d go begging, as one after another combination of us in attendance was proposed to take the seats, all of us more intent on a leisurely meal after our working day than on three hours in the theatre, despite the production’s reputation, one with which I have a bit of a history. Some years back, The Black Rider was the big draw at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Next Wave festival. Although no big names were actually performing, unlike the Sydney event’s early promise of Marianne Faithful, who withdrew due to illness well before the start, I was keen to go. Prevented, by one thing or another, I convinced a friend to take my ticket. She hated it, wouldn’t talk about it, and pretty much never spoke to me again. It must have been terrific, was all I could figure. So, it seems that once again, I had to come to Australia for fate to catch up with me, because after some negotiations over the phone, I ended up in a splendid orchestra seat.
The music, by Tom Waits, I’ve heard on CD, and although it was played well and sung with verve, I do think I prefer still that canned version overall. Still, we are talking about Robert Wilson at the acme of his German abstract expressionist fascination, so the combination of that with the Waits songs and libretto by William S. Burroughs, is a big draw, and in the end quite a successful theatrical collaboration. Wilson’s work isn’t going to show up on Broadway any time soon, but wouldn’t be entirely out of place. I wonder, however, what audience he has in mind with these productions, which, in this case, and in his collaboration with Lou Reed, The Raven, look like a melding of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Cabaret, and very Weimar in sensibility overall. Do younger audience members get the references, or do they think it’s all very new and hip? For those of us over, say, 30, we’re perhaps too familiar with the content, whether the look or even so far as the content itself, in this instance drawn from a German folktale.
I enjoyed it; I’m glad I finally got to see it; Marianne Faithful would have been terrific in the role of the Devil, so I’m sorry she got sick; and despite a later night than I’d been prepared for, it was a terrific night overall.
Last night was supposed to be dinner with friends, but out of nowhere, two free tickets to the Sydney Festival’s production of The Black Rider turned up. At first it appeared they’d go begging, as one after another combination of us in attendance was proposed to take the seats, all of us more intent on a leisurely meal after our working day than on three hours in the theatre, despite the production’s reputation, one with which I have a bit of a history. Some years back, The Black Rider was the big draw at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Next Wave festival. Although no big names were actually performing, unlike the Sydney event’s early promise of Marianne Faithful, who withdrew due to illness well before the start, I was keen to go. Prevented, by one thing or another, I convinced a friend to take my ticket. She hated it, wouldn’t talk about it, and pretty much never spoke to me again. It must have been terrific, was all I could figure. So, it seems that once again, I had to come to Australia for fate to catch up with me, because after some negotiations over the phone, I ended up in a splendid orchestra seat.
The music, by Tom Waits, I’ve heard on CD, and although it was played well and sung with verve, I do think I prefer still that canned version overall. Still, we are talking about Robert Wilson at the acme of his German abstract expressionist fascination, so the combination of that with the Waits songs and libretto by William S. Burroughs, is a big draw, and in the end quite a successful theatrical collaboration. Wilson’s work isn’t going to show up on Broadway any time soon, but wouldn’t be entirely out of place. I wonder, however, what audience he has in mind with these productions, which, in this case, and in his collaboration with Lou Reed, The Raven, look like a melding of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Cabaret, and very Weimar in sensibility overall. Do younger audience members get the references, or do they think it’s all very new and hip? For those of us over, say, 30, we’re perhaps too familiar with the content, whether the look or even so far as the content itself, in this instance drawn from a German folktale.
I enjoyed it; I’m glad I finally got to see it; Marianne Faithful would have been terrific in the role of the Devil, so I’m sorry she got sick; and despite a later night than I’d been prepared for, it was a terrific night overall.
Trust Me
Mark Fiore’s internet filmstrip, “The Office of Truth Enhancement,” tells you everything you need to now about how the Bush Administration is ruining the government. I mean “running,” running the government. Now that that consummate liar, Condoleezza Rice, has been confirmed in committee, you can see how well it’s working.
Mark Fiore’s internet filmstrip, “The Office of Truth Enhancement,” tells you everything you need to now about how the Bush Administration is ruining the government. I mean “running,” running the government. Now that that consummate liar, Condoleezza Rice, has been confirmed in committee, you can see how well it’s working.
Takeover Fallout
Oracle’s announced 5,000-employee layoff, reduced from an originally projected 6,000, will most probably reach that higher figure sooner rather than later; it’s how layoffs happen. That the PeopleSoft customers gobbled up in the takeover haven’t defected en masse as yet is neither a surprise nor a positive indication of future trends, despite Oracle’s historical customer loyalty. It’s a bit soon to abandon multi-million dollar investments and on-going projects, especially when the alternatives aren’t yet entirely clear. I’m still surprised the court overturned the DOJ’s antitrust suit, based as it was on the objections of PeopleSoft customers, among whom were both state and federal agencies in addition to private and public companies, but it’s done now, and the results are only beginning to be seen.
Oracle’s announced 5,000-employee layoff, reduced from an originally projected 6,000, will most probably reach that higher figure sooner rather than later; it’s how layoffs happen. That the PeopleSoft customers gobbled up in the takeover haven’t defected en masse as yet is neither a surprise nor a positive indication of future trends, despite Oracle’s historical customer loyalty. It’s a bit soon to abandon multi-million dollar investments and on-going projects, especially when the alternatives aren’t yet entirely clear. I’m still surprised the court overturned the DOJ’s antitrust suit, based as it was on the objections of PeopleSoft customers, among whom were both state and federal agencies in addition to private and public companies, but it’s done now, and the results are only beginning to be seen.
19 January 2005
Hateful Propaganda & Dangerous Myths
George II’s next Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, has promised to restore the image of the United States where it has been damaged by “hateful propaganda and dangerous myths,” but she is one of the primary architects of precisely such propaganda and myths that have put America in the position it now faces, one where allies are more inclined to be former allies, where the unaligned feel more inclined to find their alliances elsewhere, and where the threats and insecurities of the present have increased rather than decreased. Only Barbara Boxer - again - has stood her ground in the face of Bush’s walking death’s-head, and I’d have loved to hear sharper retorts to Rice’s complaints of how her reputation is being impugned. Her reputation? It isn’t that she lied or is dishonest, except intellectually, it’s that the extremists in the White House and their supporters have relied on race and gender to promote a dangerously unqualified individual into a position of such significance as National Security Advisor and are doing it again by trying to make her Secretary of State, repeating the pattern that put that neo-con lapdog, Clarence Thomas, on the Supreme Court. Too often I hear conservatives criticize liberals for their “racism” when concerns are voiced over Dr. Rice or Justice Thomas, and it burns me up. These too are excellent examples of individuals promoted to the level of their incompetence – and beyond. They are qualified, up to a point, but that shouldn’t have resulted in their elevation to where they are today. The only hope is that Secretary of State should prove as uninfluential a position under Rice as it has been under Powell, because that’s the only way it would be worthwhile to allow her into the job.
George II’s next Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, has promised to restore the image of the United States where it has been damaged by “hateful propaganda and dangerous myths,” but she is one of the primary architects of precisely such propaganda and myths that have put America in the position it now faces, one where allies are more inclined to be former allies, where the unaligned feel more inclined to find their alliances elsewhere, and where the threats and insecurities of the present have increased rather than decreased. Only Barbara Boxer - again - has stood her ground in the face of Bush’s walking death’s-head, and I’d have loved to hear sharper retorts to Rice’s complaints of how her reputation is being impugned. Her reputation? It isn’t that she lied or is dishonest, except intellectually, it’s that the extremists in the White House and their supporters have relied on race and gender to promote a dangerously unqualified individual into a position of such significance as National Security Advisor and are doing it again by trying to make her Secretary of State, repeating the pattern that put that neo-con lapdog, Clarence Thomas, on the Supreme Court. Too often I hear conservatives criticize liberals for their “racism” when concerns are voiced over Dr. Rice or Justice Thomas, and it burns me up. These too are excellent examples of individuals promoted to the level of their incompetence – and beyond. They are qualified, up to a point, but that shouldn’t have resulted in their elevation to where they are today. The only hope is that Secretary of State should prove as uninfluential a position under Rice as it has been under Powell, because that’s the only way it would be worthwhile to allow her into the job.
18 January 2005
Point of Order
Parliamentary politics is not a system I’m particularly familiar with, so although I’m not surprised that Mark Latham is stepping down as the leader of the Labor Party (and from his position as Member for Werriwa), I have been fascinated to watch the drama unfold since last year’s election. Latham had been touted as the brash, young up-and-comer Labor needed to repair the party’s dismal prospects under Simon Crean’s leadership, particularly because Kim Beazley had failed twice to take the role from Crean. And why not? For all the beat up over beat up cab drivers years ago and what a appeared to be conflated arguments over the Liverpool council’s condition, he seemed to have the energy Crean could no longer muster, the willingness to try on new ideas and push them hard, and – most importantly – the backing of his party, a new-found solidarity mustering behind him. Then came the campaign, and the brashness was gone, replaced by the newly statesman-like Latham; and while the ideas weren’t gone, they weren’t being pushed. No argument was forthcoming, either for Labor’s policies or against Howard’s. Instead, all we heard about were the requisite position papers and documentary filings available on the website. And the party support didn’t seem to materialize either. Once Howard had gotten his re-election, Labor began to disintegrate. Various members of the party started coming forward to voice their dissatisfaction with the results, laying the problem out as entirely Latham’s fault, back-biting and back-stabbing even among the front-benchers. The press was not behind in ensuring a very public debate over Latham’s continued leadership, although they were little more coherent than a pack of hounds with too many scents to follow. By the time the tsunami hit, and Latham’s office didn’t put out a press release, the writing was on the wall. It didn’t matter that the man was ill, suffering the debilitating pain of a second pancreatitis, and there’s some legitimacy in the criticism that his staff could have fronted up for him – and didn’t – the press and the party were now out for someone’s head on a block, and Latham was the only candidate. Howard’s “if” regarding Latham’s health made it clear to the nation that Mark was dogging it, a puerile tactic that should haunt the PM (but won’t), further sinking in the flood waters any hope of political recovery. Nevermind that it’s the role of government – hence, Howard – to express Australia’s condolences, Mark Latham failed his last leadership test, and now he’s gone. Kim Beazley may now finally have his chance, unless Kevin Rudd can mount a successful leadership campaign, but Latham’s ill health is now also a metaphor for the condition of the party. While the former MP can now retire into private life and hopefully better health, the party’s got a lot of treatment ahead to repair its prospects. In three years’ time, we’ll see how well they can become.
Parliamentary politics is not a system I’m particularly familiar with, so although I’m not surprised that Mark Latham is stepping down as the leader of the Labor Party (and from his position as Member for Werriwa), I have been fascinated to watch the drama unfold since last year’s election. Latham had been touted as the brash, young up-and-comer Labor needed to repair the party’s dismal prospects under Simon Crean’s leadership, particularly because Kim Beazley had failed twice to take the role from Crean. And why not? For all the beat up over beat up cab drivers years ago and what a appeared to be conflated arguments over the Liverpool council’s condition, he seemed to have the energy Crean could no longer muster, the willingness to try on new ideas and push them hard, and – most importantly – the backing of his party, a new-found solidarity mustering behind him. Then came the campaign, and the brashness was gone, replaced by the newly statesman-like Latham; and while the ideas weren’t gone, they weren’t being pushed. No argument was forthcoming, either for Labor’s policies or against Howard’s. Instead, all we heard about were the requisite position papers and documentary filings available on the website. And the party support didn’t seem to materialize either. Once Howard had gotten his re-election, Labor began to disintegrate. Various members of the party started coming forward to voice their dissatisfaction with the results, laying the problem out as entirely Latham’s fault, back-biting and back-stabbing even among the front-benchers. The press was not behind in ensuring a very public debate over Latham’s continued leadership, although they were little more coherent than a pack of hounds with too many scents to follow. By the time the tsunami hit, and Latham’s office didn’t put out a press release, the writing was on the wall. It didn’t matter that the man was ill, suffering the debilitating pain of a second pancreatitis, and there’s some legitimacy in the criticism that his staff could have fronted up for him – and didn’t – the press and the party were now out for someone’s head on a block, and Latham was the only candidate. Howard’s “if” regarding Latham’s health made it clear to the nation that Mark was dogging it, a puerile tactic that should haunt the PM (but won’t), further sinking in the flood waters any hope of political recovery. Nevermind that it’s the role of government – hence, Howard – to express Australia’s condolences, Mark Latham failed his last leadership test, and now he’s gone. Kim Beazley may now finally have his chance, unless Kevin Rudd can mount a successful leadership campaign, but Latham’s ill health is now also a metaphor for the condition of the party. While the former MP can now retire into private life and hopefully better health, the party’s got a lot of treatment ahead to repair its prospects. In three years’ time, we’ll see how well they can become.
My Life as Roger Ebert
Project Greenlight has come to Australia, offering a million dollars to produce an original screenplay to aspiring directors. This is a program developed by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon back in the U.S., where at least two movies have been completed so far. Once a winner is selected, the filming begins, and Project Greenlight follows the progress for a documentary series presentation on HBO. The completed film premieres at Sundance.
It took some convincing, but M.'s gone ahead and submitted her feature to the contest, which now requires her to join the ranks of the peer review panel. Everyone who submits must review at least 3 scripts, but you don't have to enter to be a reviewer. To see what her competition is like, and what she's going through herself at this stage, I signed up as a reviewer myself. I've now completed 2 scripts, and have one more to read to complete my commitment. While M.'s reports of what's come her way have been pretty dire, my own experience has been less troubled, at least insofar as the overall content goes. The stories have been cliched, but the biggest problem has been the language. Does no one writing a screenplay understand basic English? The first script read like it had been badly translated from the Japanese, and the next as if it had been written by a year-8 dropout. I'm more convinced than ever that M. will go far.
Project Greenlight has come to Australia, offering a million dollars to produce an original screenplay to aspiring directors. This is a program developed by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon back in the U.S., where at least two movies have been completed so far. Once a winner is selected, the filming begins, and Project Greenlight follows the progress for a documentary series presentation on HBO. The completed film premieres at Sundance.
It took some convincing, but M.'s gone ahead and submitted her feature to the contest, which now requires her to join the ranks of the peer review panel. Everyone who submits must review at least 3 scripts, but you don't have to enter to be a reviewer. To see what her competition is like, and what she's going through herself at this stage, I signed up as a reviewer myself. I've now completed 2 scripts, and have one more to read to complete my commitment. While M.'s reports of what's come her way have been pretty dire, my own experience has been less troubled, at least insofar as the overall content goes. The stories have been cliched, but the biggest problem has been the language. Does no one writing a screenplay understand basic English? The first script read like it had been badly translated from the Japanese, and the next as if it had been written by a year-8 dropout. I'm more convinced than ever that M. will go far.
17 January 2005
Shark Net
Sunday morning M. & I took a trip out to the beach nice and early. We were on the sand by about 8:30, maybe 9:00, and in the water not too long after that. After an early pre-departure weather disappointment scare, when a brief shower pattering on the steel awning beneath our windows presaged a postponement, we ventured out all the same, premised on my promise that it would clear off by the time we got there, which it pretty much did. (I could have gotten a few more "p" words in there somehow, maybe by using French: "sur la plage"?) Harbour beaches are, of course, distinctly different from the surf beaches of the Eastern suburbs, there being no surf, first of all, but also because there's often a bit of shade to be had nearby and, in this instance at least, i.e., Nielsen Park, a big ol' shark net. The harbour is, after all, still open water, and there are plenty of fishes in there, including sharks sometimes, although I wouldn't expect any of the big 'uns to turn up, and there hasn't been an attack inside the harbour in a long time. It's still a matter of no little fascination to me. Bondi's got one, although you can't see it (or I haven't anyway), and I suppose there's one at some of the others. By lunchtime we were home again, refreshed and more ready to face the heat of the day with a bit of a nap, but it would be a fine thing to live just a little closer to the water than we presently do, if just to avoid getting up at 6 a.m. for a sojourn on the sand.
No photos this time, because as is more usual with me I forgot the camera. (I'm not put off by the prosecution of the creep at Bondi who was snapping topless sunbathers either, although I don't agree with the restriction implied. It seems unenforceable to me, if only because there's little privacy in public places.)
Sunday morning M. & I took a trip out to the beach nice and early. We were on the sand by about 8:30, maybe 9:00, and in the water not too long after that. After an early pre-departure weather disappointment scare, when a brief shower pattering on the steel awning beneath our windows presaged a postponement, we ventured out all the same, premised on my promise that it would clear off by the time we got there, which it pretty much did. (I could have gotten a few more "p" words in there somehow, maybe by using French: "sur la plage"?) Harbour beaches are, of course, distinctly different from the surf beaches of the Eastern suburbs, there being no surf, first of all, but also because there's often a bit of shade to be had nearby and, in this instance at least, i.e., Nielsen Park, a big ol' shark net. The harbour is, after all, still open water, and there are plenty of fishes in there, including sharks sometimes, although I wouldn't expect any of the big 'uns to turn up, and there hasn't been an attack inside the harbour in a long time. It's still a matter of no little fascination to me. Bondi's got one, although you can't see it (or I haven't anyway), and I suppose there's one at some of the others. By lunchtime we were home again, refreshed and more ready to face the heat of the day with a bit of a nap, but it would be a fine thing to live just a little closer to the water than we presently do, if just to avoid getting up at 6 a.m. for a sojourn on the sand.
No photos this time, because as is more usual with me I forgot the camera. (I'm not put off by the prosecution of the creep at Bondi who was snapping topless sunbathers either, although I don't agree with the restriction implied. It seems unenforceable to me, if only because there's little privacy in public places.)
13 January 2005
Guantanamo Abuses
Four more Britons and one of the Australians captured in Afghanistan three years ago are being freed. None of them are going home to charges under laws existing at the time of their detention or having gone into effect since, although Philip Ruddock has stated that Mamdouh Habib will be subject to ongoing scrutiny by ASIO. John Howard has complained to the U.S. about having taken so long, but he did little enough up until now to secure the man’s release, so it’s a bit too little too late, although he’s not going to apologize for his inaction. Meanwhile, David Hicks is still awaiting trial.
I know George II said there’d be covert operations and anti-terror actions we’d never hear an outcome of, but has there been anything worthwhile out of the indefinite detention of anyone in Cuba? I mean except for the Supreme Court deciding the detainees can have access to the U.S. legal system. Has anyone actually been prosecuted, convicted, or has anyone provided substantive information that’s lead us to Osama bin Laden or Mullah Omar? Yet Bush wants to build a permanent detention center there, with the sole purpose of holding prisoners for the rest of their lives; no charges to be brought, no trials, no burden of proof. Lock ‘em up and throw away the key. (A situation Mr. Habib now faces in another sense, as his repatriation becomes a kind of home detention, guilty for the rest of his life.) Except . . . one by one, they’re getting out and going home, often enough it seems as a result of formal allegations of abuse or torture. Is there any give-and-take on Habib’s release, as Amnesty International’s inquiry would suggest? I don’t expect to ever find out.
Four more Britons and one of the Australians captured in Afghanistan three years ago are being freed. None of them are going home to charges under laws existing at the time of their detention or having gone into effect since, although Philip Ruddock has stated that Mamdouh Habib will be subject to ongoing scrutiny by ASIO. John Howard has complained to the U.S. about having taken so long, but he did little enough up until now to secure the man’s release, so it’s a bit too little too late, although he’s not going to apologize for his inaction. Meanwhile, David Hicks is still awaiting trial.
I know George II said there’d be covert operations and anti-terror actions we’d never hear an outcome of, but has there been anything worthwhile out of the indefinite detention of anyone in Cuba? I mean except for the Supreme Court deciding the detainees can have access to the U.S. legal system. Has anyone actually been prosecuted, convicted, or has anyone provided substantive information that’s lead us to Osama bin Laden or Mullah Omar? Yet Bush wants to build a permanent detention center there, with the sole purpose of holding prisoners for the rest of their lives; no charges to be brought, no trials, no burden of proof. Lock ‘em up and throw away the key. (A situation Mr. Habib now faces in another sense, as his repatriation becomes a kind of home detention, guilty for the rest of his life.) Except . . . one by one, they’re getting out and going home, often enough it seems as a result of formal allegations of abuse or torture. Is there any give-and-take on Habib’s release, as Amnesty International’s inquiry would suggest? I don’t expect to ever find out.
10 January 2005
Best
In the past, WCA and I would pick up a copy of the Best American Short Stories and Best American Essays year by year, a practice extended to Best American Sports Writing at least once on my part, probably more by WCA, although in later years, as the series extended itself to Mystery Stories, Travel Writing, Spiritual Writing, Recipes . . . it exceeded my interest. Best American Poetry is independent of these others, and I’d be interested in seeing it, although some of the reviews have been less than positive. Before we relocated, M. and I went down to the poetry café on the Lower East Side and read as a farewell to the East Village literary scene, and reading about what’s been included in the 2004 Best, I’m reminded of the experience, as I am when I look at the photo of the six performance poets appearing in the Sydney Festival’s “Slammin’”. Dude, the orange hair doesn’t make you an artist. O.k., that’s unfair. Maybe his poetry is actually good. But I don’t think anyone will ever find out by going to a “Slam.” These performances are an extension of rap into literature, nothing more than playing the dozens, really, although the content is probably a bit more elevated than “yo’ momma” insults. I must be getting old, but I do want more substance from poetry than format, and more content than performance.
In the past, WCA and I would pick up a copy of the Best American Short Stories and Best American Essays year by year, a practice extended to Best American Sports Writing at least once on my part, probably more by WCA, although in later years, as the series extended itself to Mystery Stories, Travel Writing, Spiritual Writing, Recipes . . . it exceeded my interest. Best American Poetry is independent of these others, and I’d be interested in seeing it, although some of the reviews have been less than positive. Before we relocated, M. and I went down to the poetry café on the Lower East Side and read as a farewell to the East Village literary scene, and reading about what’s been included in the 2004 Best, I’m reminded of the experience, as I am when I look at the photo of the six performance poets appearing in the Sydney Festival’s “Slammin’”. Dude, the orange hair doesn’t make you an artist. O.k., that’s unfair. Maybe his poetry is actually good. But I don’t think anyone will ever find out by going to a “Slam.” These performances are an extension of rap into literature, nothing more than playing the dozens, really, although the content is probably a bit more elevated than “yo’ momma” insults. I must be getting old, but I do want more substance from poetry than format, and more content than performance.
World Vision
They’re already a very popular charity here, if the evidence of various coffee bars and such displaying “all tips go to support our sponsored child” signs is anything to go by, and now the Australian public has donated – man, woman, and child – a dollar apiece: AU$20 million to support World Vision’s tsunami relief efforts, and this is on top of the money already raised since the disaster. It doesn’t sound like much when you say “a dollar apiece,” but consider that not all are actually capable of making a donation: children, pensioners, the indigent. For all the instances of pundits quoting Stalin’s cynicism (“one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic”), it appears that we all really can act collectively to the benefit of others.
They’re already a very popular charity here, if the evidence of various coffee bars and such displaying “all tips go to support our sponsored child” signs is anything to go by, and now the Australian public has donated – man, woman, and child – a dollar apiece: AU$20 million to support World Vision’s tsunami relief efforts, and this is on top of the money already raised since the disaster. It doesn’t sound like much when you say “a dollar apiece,” but consider that not all are actually capable of making a donation: children, pensioners, the indigent. For all the instances of pundits quoting Stalin’s cynicism (“one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic”), it appears that we all really can act collectively to the benefit of others.
Weeds, Whites & Land Management
The title here is stolen from an inappropriate Little Feat’s song, “Willin’”, and mismanaged into something approaching the topic of desertification in Australia, as discussed in today’s SMH article by Paul Sheehan, “Continent at risk of dry tsunami.” In it, Sheehan goes on about “weeds” being an efficient part of the land’s own water-management process. Of course, weeds are just plants that aren’t grass, trees, bushes, or edible grain producers, so it’s a bit silly to use the term. Nevertheless, the main point, that land management practices since the arrival of humans, particularly European colonization, but no less the Aborigines 80,000 years ago, have decimated the continent’s ability to support itself. For all those who deride environmentalists, global warming, Michael Crichton’s critics, well, you need to know that there are problems and the idea that industry can be given the option to manage itself in respect to ecological custodial regulations is ludicrous, as is the idea that farming isn’t an industry. There are small-holders (and they’re not doing any better than the corporations for the most part), but there is more and more centralized control over agriculture. Unless corporate profit-taking practices can be curbed and sustainable farming introduced as a requirement for operating in agriculture, government will be at the mercy of business as more demands for more resources need to be met. Imagine what will happen in the coming decades when the topsoil blows away, when the earth has too high a salt content to allow vegetation, when the water demands for farming exceed our ability to supply farms and people in an either/or situation. The question Sheehan’s article ends with, “what if [Peter Andrews] is right [about sustainable farming and salination],” isn’t the end. I’d ask, is Peter Andrews the only one out there actually doing something about the problem? If he is, it’s already too late.
The title here is stolen from an inappropriate Little Feat’s song, “Willin’”, and mismanaged into something approaching the topic of desertification in Australia, as discussed in today’s SMH article by Paul Sheehan, “Continent at risk of dry tsunami.” In it, Sheehan goes on about “weeds” being an efficient part of the land’s own water-management process. Of course, weeds are just plants that aren’t grass, trees, bushes, or edible grain producers, so it’s a bit silly to use the term. Nevertheless, the main point, that land management practices since the arrival of humans, particularly European colonization, but no less the Aborigines 80,000 years ago, have decimated the continent’s ability to support itself. For all those who deride environmentalists, global warming, Michael Crichton’s critics, well, you need to know that there are problems and the idea that industry can be given the option to manage itself in respect to ecological custodial regulations is ludicrous, as is the idea that farming isn’t an industry. There are small-holders (and they’re not doing any better than the corporations for the most part), but there is more and more centralized control over agriculture. Unless corporate profit-taking practices can be curbed and sustainable farming introduced as a requirement for operating in agriculture, government will be at the mercy of business as more demands for more resources need to be met. Imagine what will happen in the coming decades when the topsoil blows away, when the earth has too high a salt content to allow vegetation, when the water demands for farming exceed our ability to supply farms and people in an either/or situation. The question Sheehan’s article ends with, “what if [Peter Andrews] is right [about sustainable farming and salination],” isn’t the end. I’d ask, is Peter Andrews the only one out there actually doing something about the problem? If he is, it’s already too late.
And the Nominees Are . . .
I’ve already emailed Hillary and Chuck, not that I expect either of them to do much about Alberto Gonzales. (I have to use my old NYC address, but that's where I'm registered to vote anyway.) I do think, nevertheless, that now is the time for the Democrats to fight hard - not just on this nomination, but on the whole pack of them, and anything else that comes up - or Bush’s corruption of our nation will continue unabated. Contact your Senator. Write to them, call them, whenever there’s something you want them to think about and act on. The Republicans do it, individually and en masse. We can, too.
I’ve already emailed Hillary and Chuck, not that I expect either of them to do much about Alberto Gonzales. (I have to use my old NYC address, but that's where I'm registered to vote anyway.) I do think, nevertheless, that now is the time for the Democrats to fight hard - not just on this nomination, but on the whole pack of them, and anything else that comes up - or Bush’s corruption of our nation will continue unabated. Contact your Senator. Write to them, call them, whenever there’s something you want them to think about and act on. The Republicans do it, individually and en masse. We can, too.
07 January 2005
Boxed In
He’s still the President, which we all expected, but it’s sort of disappointing that only Barbara Boxer stood up to challenge Republican fraud. No matter what sneering jibes have been issued in response, last year’s election was another example of machine politics at work, something we’d all like to think had passed away with Tammany Hall. And it isn’t enough. A full-scale investigation is required, independent counsel and all, both nationally and in Ohio, where Kenneth Blackwell delivered the vote to Bush, as he’d promised he would. Who’s going to stand up and make the call, when only one Senator out of two hundred (and only 75 were present to certify the Electoral College results, 74-1) had the courage to stand up for the American people? Four years isn’t enough time to fix the problems that allowed the 2004 and 2000 frauds to occur, not if our legislators are going to fiddle while DC burns. Don’t forget, Bush doesn’t have the mandate he and his sycophants claim: 3 million votes isn’t a landslide; it’s 2%.
He’s still the President, which we all expected, but it’s sort of disappointing that only Barbara Boxer stood up to challenge Republican fraud. No matter what sneering jibes have been issued in response, last year’s election was another example of machine politics at work, something we’d all like to think had passed away with Tammany Hall. And it isn’t enough. A full-scale investigation is required, independent counsel and all, both nationally and in Ohio, where Kenneth Blackwell delivered the vote to Bush, as he’d promised he would. Who’s going to stand up and make the call, when only one Senator out of two hundred (and only 75 were present to certify the Electoral College results, 74-1) had the courage to stand up for the American people? Four years isn’t enough time to fix the problems that allowed the 2004 and 2000 frauds to occur, not if our legislators are going to fiddle while DC burns. Don’t forget, Bush doesn’t have the mandate he and his sycophants claim: 3 million votes isn’t a landslide; it’s 2%.
06 January 2005
Conservative Compassion
$13,000 from an estimated $17 million net worth is the sum total of Bush II’s sympathy for the plight of millions in southeast Asia. Admittedly, his annual salary is only $400,000, plus room-and-board for himself and every member of his family living in the White House, so he can’t have much to throw around to help poor people: they might become dependent or something. I know, I know, “the poor you will have with you always,” but if you’re going to make a big show of your charity, you’re missing the point about not letting your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Then again, we knew that when Powell got sent in to talk up how the U.S. is the friend of Muslims everywhere. Does anyone at those White House prayer meetings actually know any Christian philosophy, or do they just make it up to suit themselves? Remember the story of the widow’s mite, then consider what individuals around the globe are doing to help.
In case you’re wondering about governmental aid donations, leaving aside overall aid budgets, The Swanker has a comparative breakdown showing the contributions of Arab nations, the U.S., Britain, and Australia, vis a vis GDP, none of the latter 3 of whom have managed even 1% so far, while the Arabs are managing at least that much. (In the credit where credit’s due column, however, Australia has increased its overall contribution to AU$1 billion, over 5 years, to Indonesia alone.)
Update: to put this in population perspective, follow the Swanker's link to No Right Turn, where per capita rates are entabulated.
$13,000 from an estimated $17 million net worth is the sum total of Bush II’s sympathy for the plight of millions in southeast Asia. Admittedly, his annual salary is only $400,000, plus room-and-board for himself and every member of his family living in the White House, so he can’t have much to throw around to help poor people: they might become dependent or something. I know, I know, “the poor you will have with you always,” but if you’re going to make a big show of your charity, you’re missing the point about not letting your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Then again, we knew that when Powell got sent in to talk up how the U.S. is the friend of Muslims everywhere. Does anyone at those White House prayer meetings actually know any Christian philosophy, or do they just make it up to suit themselves? Remember the story of the widow’s mite, then consider what individuals around the globe are doing to help.
In case you’re wondering about governmental aid donations, leaving aside overall aid budgets, The Swanker has a comparative breakdown showing the contributions of Arab nations, the U.S., Britain, and Australia, vis a vis GDP, none of the latter 3 of whom have managed even 1% so far, while the Arabs are managing at least that much. (In the credit where credit’s due column, however, Australia has increased its overall contribution to AU$1 billion, over 5 years, to Indonesia alone.)
Update: to put this in population perspective, follow the Swanker's link to No Right Turn, where per capita rates are entabulated.
04 January 2005
Disaster
It's probably appropriate to comment a little on the tsunami right now, what with everyone else having already chimed in (including to make fools of themselves by blaming global warming, George Bush, environmentalists, anti-globalization activists . . . basically taking the opportunity of 150,000 deaths to whet whatever axe they use to produce chips for their shoulders).
It's horrible; awesome, even. As the numbers rolled up and up and the t.v. replayed scenes of the ocean sweeping across beaches, resort areas, villages, I couldn't grasp the magnitude. Too big, too many. At 60,000, I could see Shea Stadium packed full, and had a way to imagine the scale. Three stadiums full. And there'll be more. Like September 11, I've stopped watching the news coverage, unable to endure the endless loops of the disaster footage. The newspapers will be enough to keep up with.
Homes gone. Land gone. The salt water will effect the ability of the land to support vegetation, to regenerate. Businesses devastated; the ability of people to support themselves with whatever small or large industry or enterprise they had used to feed themselves and their families.
But so many millions of dollars are being donated, and not just by governments. In a single night, New Year's Eve, which the networks here turned into fund-raisers, the Australian people donated nearly half a million dollars, and cumulatively since the event contributed nearly $5 a head, man, woman, and child: $50 million. Around the world, the citizenry of other countries are doing the same. Medecins sans Frontieres has had to ask people to stop donating, so much money has been coming in, overwhelming their ability to handle it. And the on-the-ground aid work is ramping up, assisted by troops from America, from Australia, from all around the region. Private citizens are pitching in wherever they can.
Years will go by, and all the heart-warming stories - the infant rescued after days floating on a mattress, the animals in Sri Lanka whose senses sent them to high ground ahead of the flood - these will be lost, and the work will go on.
You know the charities; you know what to do. (Oh, and meanwhile, it's not particularly useful to slag the UN, the only existing body capable of coordinating the relief efforts of so many disparate countries, committees, organizations. It's not like anyone else is offering to actually lead the work needed.)
It's probably appropriate to comment a little on the tsunami right now, what with everyone else having already chimed in (including to make fools of themselves by blaming global warming, George Bush, environmentalists, anti-globalization activists . . . basically taking the opportunity of 150,000 deaths to whet whatever axe they use to produce chips for their shoulders).
It's horrible; awesome, even. As the numbers rolled up and up and the t.v. replayed scenes of the ocean sweeping across beaches, resort areas, villages, I couldn't grasp the magnitude. Too big, too many. At 60,000, I could see Shea Stadium packed full, and had a way to imagine the scale. Three stadiums full. And there'll be more. Like September 11, I've stopped watching the news coverage, unable to endure the endless loops of the disaster footage. The newspapers will be enough to keep up with.
Homes gone. Land gone. The salt water will effect the ability of the land to support vegetation, to regenerate. Businesses devastated; the ability of people to support themselves with whatever small or large industry or enterprise they had used to feed themselves and their families.
But so many millions of dollars are being donated, and not just by governments. In a single night, New Year's Eve, which the networks here turned into fund-raisers, the Australian people donated nearly half a million dollars, and cumulatively since the event contributed nearly $5 a head, man, woman, and child: $50 million. Around the world, the citizenry of other countries are doing the same. Medecins sans Frontieres has had to ask people to stop donating, so much money has been coming in, overwhelming their ability to handle it. And the on-the-ground aid work is ramping up, assisted by troops from America, from Australia, from all around the region. Private citizens are pitching in wherever they can.
Years will go by, and all the heart-warming stories - the infant rescued after days floating on a mattress, the animals in Sri Lanka whose senses sent them to high ground ahead of the flood - these will be lost, and the work will go on.
You know the charities; you know what to do. (Oh, and meanwhile, it's not particularly useful to slag the UN, the only existing body capable of coordinating the relief efforts of so many disparate countries, committees, organizations. It's not like anyone else is offering to actually lead the work needed.)
Underway
Back at work now, which, despite ADSL at home, makes it easier somehow to post entries - bad, I know, stealing time from my employer, but I make it up to them - so it feels like the new year is well and truly started, although that won't really be true until I stop writing "2004" instead of "2005" on checks, letters, memos, et al. We didn't make it to the beach over the holidays break, but we did manage to see The Incredibles, which has got to be one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a long time. Yes, better than the grown-up movies, even, if only because it's so well-rounded. Craig T. Nelson was good, which was a surprise, because I've never liked him, and Holly Hunter was disconcerting at first, but proved excellent. Sarah Vowell, of NPR, did the voice of the daughter. I've never heard her radio show, but she hit all the right whiny notes, showing an excellent feel for the character. And Wallace Shawn should be in every movie, even if it is only a bit part. We also got I, Robot out on DVD, and Hellboy, both of which were very good, each in its own way. Of course, having had this boy-movie festival (while the nephews were over, providing me an excellent excuse), I'm now committed to seeing something more age-group oriented. I'm sure something will turn up eventually that isn't a costume piece or throwback to the Rock Hudson-Doris Day era.
Back at work now, which, despite ADSL at home, makes it easier somehow to post entries - bad, I know, stealing time from my employer, but I make it up to them - so it feels like the new year is well and truly started, although that won't really be true until I stop writing "2004" instead of "2005" on checks, letters, memos, et al. We didn't make it to the beach over the holidays break, but we did manage to see The Incredibles, which has got to be one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a long time. Yes, better than the grown-up movies, even, if only because it's so well-rounded. Craig T. Nelson was good, which was a surprise, because I've never liked him, and Holly Hunter was disconcerting at first, but proved excellent. Sarah Vowell, of NPR, did the voice of the daughter. I've never heard her radio show, but she hit all the right whiny notes, showing an excellent feel for the character. And Wallace Shawn should be in every movie, even if it is only a bit part. We also got I, Robot out on DVD, and Hellboy, both of which were very good, each in its own way. Of course, having had this boy-movie festival (while the nephews were over, providing me an excellent excuse), I'm now committed to seeing something more age-group oriented. I'm sure something will turn up eventually that isn't a costume piece or throwback to the Rock Hudson-Doris Day era.
02 January 2005
Wrap-Up
Because the office closes and hands out days off at Christmas like they're bon-bons, I've had quite a bit of time at home through tomorrow that I'll have spent on holidaying, including traditional calls to the homeland and hosting overnights by the nephews and other familial obligations undertaken and executed. Now that the New Year is underway, there are yet today and tomorrow for pure relaxation. Naturally, the weather is somewhat uncooperative, so beach time may have to wait a week.
Meanwhile, what a year it's been. No job turned into a new job just in time, appendectomies (well, one, mine, anyway), etc., and so forth. Until the tsunami, the year had looked to finish as peacefully as might be expected with the U.S. occupying Iraq, so it's all the more awe-inspiring to know that nature itself can be so incredibly devastating. So many lives lost, so much destruction, this is likely to be the new Lisbon, surpassing that legendary earthquake's toll for, let's hope, centuries yet to come. With so many yet unconfirmed losses, every day brings new pain for many.
Christmas brought reminders of love from my family, not least a very welcome subscription to The New Yorker, but also, perhaps even better, Dr. Evil, arch-enemy of Captain Action, that most lugubrious of 12-inch action heroes.
He's a hippie, of course, what with the medallion, Nehru-style tunic, and sandals, and we all know how devoted to the cause of badness those 60's-style radicals are. The brains are a nice touch, don't you think?
Because the office closes and hands out days off at Christmas like they're bon-bons, I've had quite a bit of time at home through tomorrow that I'll have spent on holidaying, including traditional calls to the homeland and hosting overnights by the nephews and other familial obligations undertaken and executed. Now that the New Year is underway, there are yet today and tomorrow for pure relaxation. Naturally, the weather is somewhat uncooperative, so beach time may have to wait a week.
Meanwhile, what a year it's been. No job turned into a new job just in time, appendectomies (well, one, mine, anyway), etc., and so forth. Until the tsunami, the year had looked to finish as peacefully as might be expected with the U.S. occupying Iraq, so it's all the more awe-inspiring to know that nature itself can be so incredibly devastating. So many lives lost, so much destruction, this is likely to be the new Lisbon, surpassing that legendary earthquake's toll for, let's hope, centuries yet to come. With so many yet unconfirmed losses, every day brings new pain for many.
Christmas brought reminders of love from my family, not least a very welcome subscription to The New Yorker, but also, perhaps even better, Dr. Evil, arch-enemy of Captain Action, that most lugubrious of 12-inch action heroes.
He's a hippie, of course, what with the medallion, Nehru-style tunic, and sandals, and we all know how devoted to the cause of badness those 60's-style radicals are. The brains are a nice touch, don't you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
