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)?

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.