Press on Press
Andrew Denton had Helen Thomas on his show last night. Enough Rope is probably the best interview show on television in Australia, not just because Denton is a capable interviewer (he does ask the fluff, promotion-related questions, but also poses tougher, more insightful queries), but also because he gets more interesting guests than the shows on the commercial stations. Helen Thomas is the longest serving member of the White House Press Corp, and she doesn’t shy away from asking tough questions of every President since Kennedy. As a result, Bush II and his minions don’t call on her and make sure she’s stuck up the back of the conference room for the briefings they hold (fewer than any other administration). This is disrespectful and childish, but what else can you expect? They are afraid they will be caught in their lies. Too late, of course. I hope Ms. Thomas will get another, different administration to ask pointed questions of in 2005.

First, Fill the Bathtub with Water
Then make sure you’re stocked up on canned goods. That way, when the big one hits, you’ll be prepared. This Flash™ animation tool lets you learn a little about building in an earthquake zone by setting up the construction parameters for your office block and then setting off a tremor. Stack ‘em up and watch ‘em fall.

”Man, Average is Dumb”
I only ever saw a couple of American Splendor comics, but they stuck with me in a way even the X-Men never have, so when M. said she really, really wanted to see the movie, I was more than happy to go. I’m very glad I did. Although it is a sort of anti-Dogma movie, in that it uses fictional techniques to tell a true story, it is also as unpretentious as the comics and their author. Harvey Pekar’s masterwork deserves the attention it garners as a result of this movie’s success, so get right out and ensure it is successful. They may be slobs, but they care about life, man.

Burp
Are women picking on men too much? Or has the media power base shifted, giving women the forum to speak out against the bad habits and attitudes of men? Well, if men are being abused on t.v., they’re not happy about it, and starting to speak up. Darn ol’ girls. They’ll stop once Arnie’s governor of California, won’t they? I know it’s not a universal truth, but I actually find Australian society to be quite egalitarian in the attitudes of men and women. Here, everybody’s football-mad.

Fortress of Solitude
Or Bat-cave, anyway. This lovely home comes complete with bomb shelter, suitable for riding out a devastating nuclear attack, plotting your next bid for global domination, or conducting your secret identity crime-fighting activities, and at under $295K, it's priced well below other well-known headquarters.

Urban Awareness
Sydney needs the Big Urban Game. In fact, if Minneapolis can do it, I think it’s worthwhile in every major city. (Can we use Monopoly™ tokens instead of the generic game pieces? I bags the Scottie.)

Everybody’s 007
Put on your wingsuit (with lightning jacket of course), jump in the car, and head out to sea. It’s no flying car, but it doubles as a boat, and that’s pretty good. What superhero gear do we want next?

Now I Get It
Ikea naming conventions have structure. This is the next biggest meme on the web. We all [have] shop[ped] at Ikea and giggled over the Billy bookcases. Now that we know that “billy” is an occupation, what does someone do who has that job? Does it have anything to do with books? If you ask someone for a particular lighting fixture, will you be accused of “swearing like a sailor”? (From Margaret Marks’ Transblawg, a specialist ‘blog within both the language ‘blog and law ‘blog specialities – talk about niche – by way of Boing Boing.)

George Washington Bush
Maybe he wasn’t paying attention in school, or maybe in this more cynical age, the lessons we were taught have no real meaning anymore, or maybe this son of privilege just doesn’t care, and the American people are too weak, too entrenched in bureaucracy, too vast and disorganized to do anything about it, but unlike in the story of our first President, George Bush is a liar and it’s a long way ‘til November 2004. Maybe some nice ads highlighting the results would help.

(Yes, the LA Times link requires registration, but so what? Don’t you keep an email address just for spam? Works for me.)

Hostess Fruit Pies of Crime
Aren’t comic books just the most fabulous advertising medium in print? Who doesn’t remember the miniature spy cameras and x-ray specs and Charles Atlas body-building offers? And when you read about a bank robbery, don’t you always think, if only the police had had some Twinkies or chocolatey frosted cup cakes. Seanbaby remembers, and now you can, too. (Note to Patty Hearst: if you’re ever kidnapped by a bunch of fake revolutionaries again, evidently they’ll surrender for fruit pies.)

Goofus and Gallant
Just in case you still have trouble with ethical dilemmas, this lovely teaching tool, originally published in the inestimable Highlights children’s magazine, is now available on-line in a Choose Your Own Adventure format. Each choice leads you through to the next stage of the story and another choice. What would I do? I know what I’d like to do: beat up Gallant for making me look bad!

Stand and Deliver
With all the hype on either side over internet song-swapping and copyright, the RIAA’s recent actions to locate and prosecute pirates has now produced a counter-suite. nyfashiongirl is suing over violation of privacy by the RIAA. I have my doubts that she’ll prevail in court, but I imagine that the judge’s opinion will have to be fairly carefully drawn in order to balance the rights at issue. If the RIAA is immune from privacy restrictions, as they claim, does that mean they can use that immunity to spam internet users? Or do they only have immunity insofar as they are operating in the capacity of a private investigator? If Outside Counsel [no link] were running, I’d look for an opinion there.

Crazy Hep Cats
Dr. Geoffrey Wills of Manchester has published research that appears to show that jazz musicians are more susceptible to mental illness than other “creative types,” but based on the statistical use of Bud Powell’s life, I wonder if he took into account police beatings and head injuries?

Blah, Blah, and then He Said . . .
Thousands of unremarkable people are posting their diaries on-line or does the Globe & Mail not understand ‘blogging? Yes, like the early days, the internet is full of “home pages” (remember those?) posing as weblogs, but there are also – even more – weblogs that serve a much different purpose. I’d say my ‘blog is better than a gossip column, but not by much, as it serves mainly for me to communicate my interests and opinions to a very limited audience, but who is the audience for Abbie the Cat or Tailors Today? If mainstream media embraces weblogging, either by setting up columnists with ‘blogs or hiring ‘bloggers as columnists (Instapundit is the prime example, but see also Andrew Sullivan), then surely there is more to the growth of the format than high schooler dishing. The level of specialization – whether topically as in “lawblogs” or “warblogs” – or regionally, as seen in the number of NYC-specific or ex-pat run ‘blogging communities, also show there is more to ‘blogs than gossip. I’d venture to suggest that quite a lot of information is being gathered and made accessible in ‘blogs that would otherwise be lost in the depths of the internet maze and that quite a lot of extraordinarily good and entertaining writing can be found on such “diaries” – more even than some columnists in the Globe & Mail are providing, if I can be allowed the odd catty remark.

Mob Mentality
Flashmobs, which have been discussed here previously, are essentially an internet phenomenon, making extensive use of mobile phones as an ancillary organizational tool. But the internet has a strange effect on the persons using it, in that the more time you spend there the more computer-technologically informed you become until EVERYONE’S A GEEK. It’s true. Witness the birth of flashblogging. In this activity, participants are organized to assail a single post’s comments. Like chatrooms, the internet takes social interaction and makes it antisocial. (Via Anil Dash.)

Note: Sydney had its first flashmob not long ago, and it sounded like fun. Sorry I missed it, but at least there’s a website where you can get information.

Support Literature
Original screenplays are important, but if Hollywood is going to adapt stories, can we have more books in the mix and fewer comic books? Not that I mind: Spiderman was terrific, and I’d enjoy a nice Batman vs. Superman match-up. But as much as I can do without a live-action Cat in the Hat, making movies from books supports an art form I really love, and publishers don’t seem very open to non-genre fiction these days.

First Rule of ‘blogging
I read Abbie the Cat Has a Posse because it’s funny, but I’m reading Tailors Today because it’s mental.

Schooldays Fun
Aw, remember cutting up a sheet of paper and making snowflakes? Neither do I. But if you want, there’s a Flash™ animation page where you can make a paper snowflake. (Via Idle Type.)

Sim City for Cheapskates
Enjoy Sim City™? Too cheap to buy a copy of your own? City Creator at your service. Have fun. (Also via Idle Type.)

New York, London, Sydney
At least the blackouts are getting smaller, but it isn’t ever summer here yet. Does anyone suspect a pattern? Nah, too easy.

Corporate Scalping
There has been graffiti advertising, where companies have mysterious and no-so-mysterious spray painting stencilled though a city or neighborhood, and now the corporations have taken to their bosom another marginally criminal subculture practice: scalping the tickets they sell. Ticketmaster is putting their tickets up to bid in an on-line auction format that will set the highest price for seats at concerts and sporting events at whatever the market will bear. The $2.50 to $13.80 service charge per ticket (depending on the processing option selected) wasn’t enough, and it no doubt galled the company to see hawkers outside the stadiums muttering, “got tickets? got tickets?” and reaping the kind of profit rapacious capitalists can only dream of – until now. I suggest going to see your favorite team or band now, because you’re not going to be able to afford it soon. Because the venues will share the proceeds on a pre-arranged percentage basis, direct sales are going to disappear, too, and only the Hollywood stars and corporate elite will attend a ball game at Yankee Stadium or a concert by any band signed to a major label.

Who’ll Go a-Waltzing with Me?
The entire stadium during any Rugby World Cup match featuring the Australian team, of course. Despite reports that the song had been banned, in fact you can sing “Waltzing Matilda” at the game. You just can’t have two national anthems played. Seems fair to me, so don’t let your billy boil over.

Sprung
Blue skies, mid-twenties temperatures . . . except for the fact that the birds have never stopped signing and the flowers have been continuously blooming, I’d be sure it’s spring. I am assured, however, that because Australia measures its seasons differently from the rest of the world, equinox or no, it is indeed glorious springtime. Meteorological prognostications are that with the termination of El Niño, we shouldn’t experience the same conditions as had been prevalent over the last 18 months.

Batman
How prosaic. I was hoping for Green Lantern, although his superpower is jewellery. And which superhero do you want to be when you grow up?

A Night on Our Own
With Russell back in Bellingen, you might have expected us to stay home for a quiet night and another episode of Inspector Rex, but we’d booked tickets to see Tex Perkins weeks ago, so off to The Basement we went for dinner and a show. It’s a very good music venue, and I’d like to go in for a jazz evening sometime, but Mr. Perkins is pursuing a different line than he had in the past, most notably perhaps with the Cruel Sea, his new band, the Dark Horses, having a folkier, country style, relying on his voice to do the muscular work, so it was as well suited to the stage there. He had a nice collection of sidemen with him, including Charlie Own and Joel Silbersher. I would, however, recommend against going to The Basement for dinner – it’s hard to mess up salmon, but they managed – too much microwave cookery, I’d wager. I can’t say anything good for the opening act last night either, except that individually they managed to play well enough. Maybe it’s just that I was too tired by the time they finished, but all their songs were the same and none of them ever got off the ground: too much time noodling to no good purpose; a they didn’t strike me as having spent much time practicing in the same room. In the end, it may be a while before we get out again, to the Annandale for the next heavyweight championship of Sydney, for example, although it does seem the music scene is having a nice resurgence, and I’d go see Tex Perkins again someday.

Tourism
No one should get the idea that I haven’t been spending lots of time getting to know my new city, but I took off two days this week to spend in wandering through Sydney with my father-in-law, and it’s been quite a lot of fun toting a camera and seeing the city accompanied by someone with a few extra decades of history here to impart. Russell was sometimes lost in contemplation of his past in Sydney, which was, I think, a fairly significant part of why he came to town, but he never failed to engage me with stories and lore of the places we visited. We spent nearly half an hour circumnavigating the Department of Lands building, for example, while I learned who and why certain persons were enshrined along the façade. As fun as it was to examine the sandstone buildings of the Victorian era, it was even more delightful to stroll through the Botanical Gardens out to Wollomolloo, where we had lunch and discussed the merits of the sailing ship berthed across from our table. The ‘loo – an unfortunate but evidently previously apt nickname – is a neighborhood that has changed a good deal over the years, although once you begin the climb up through Darlinghurst into Surry Hills, the old character of the suburb becomes a bit more clear, as well as the evident disregard local government continues to exhibit towards the residents of such places, the Eastern Distributor having been plowed straight through it, an overhead rail line above, and now the latest tunnelling project underway. As much as Sydney needs the relief from traffic, it’s easy to see why people get so upset over the plans: they will go through regardless of objections in an eminent domain taking and I’ll bet they’re only as effective as current conditions allow. In a year or more, new projects will be required. We also went through Milson’s Point, a fascinating district on the other side of the Harbour Bridge, where in addition to our sightseeing M. and I hoped to locate a situation for viewing the New Year’s fireworks, for which we will be hosting our first international visitor. (I’m voting for the old pub we found, but there are some other places still in the running.) There are some wonderful sights to see from this side of the city, including an archaeological dig (which may yet become an apartment block), as well as areas where sandstone was evidently cut for the purpose of supplying building materials elsewhere in town. Lunch in The Rocks, the oldest surviving part of Sydney, in a garden abutting a great wall of sandstone and overgrown with towering plants that look straight out of an episode of the Lost World. I feel we have thoroughly scouted locations throughout the city to which we will make all visitors march and express sounds of delight. I’m also somewhat inspired to take up Russell’s suggestion of a photographic project: the stairs of Sydney. They’re everywhere, some only by suggestion of where they had been, others that no longer take you anywhere, others more extensive and still in use, but all highly photogenic. I’ve got to get better versed in f-stops, though, or fix the light meter on my SLR.

North Head
My revered father-in-law, Russell is down from Bellingen for a visit. We’ve been having a splendid time, and yesterday travelled out to Manly, where Sydney meets the Pacific head-on, to pun a little. The entrance to Sydney Harbour is flanked by headlands, North and South Head, and we spent a little time there watching ship traffic and bracing against the westerly wind that had kicked up overnight (and which has caused a bit of damage up and down the coast, but aside from one death, nothing too severe). The view was spectacular, the sun just past its noon height, with some sparse clouds adding dramatic effect to the skyline in the near distance. At the edge of our vision, we could even see the Blue Mountains, like a wall rising up from the horizon. The Harbour itself was churned into whitecaps by the wind, spreading the spray across a larger area than normally from the wake of the few vessels out there. Some might have thought of sailboats, but the wind was much too strong to be safe, and most people stayed home, although we did pass one adventurous soul making excellent progress with his jib at a minimal height. He was close enough to Manly at that point that I didn’t worry for him making land before New Zealand, although he was making nearly as much sideways progress as forward. There’s a great deal to see up Manly way, and scouting through the reserve on North Head, we located a nice little sheltered beach with a fall of fresh water and which didn’t appear to get much traffic, at least not at this time of year. As it turns out, this is where Captain Phillip caught a spearing from a local Aborigine – which became the source of the later town’s name, as he remarked without animosity that the fellow who attacked him was a “manly” fellow. Do I believe this bit of lore? It doesn’t matter; it makes a nice story. More adventures with Russell are sure to come, but if they just involve going down to the water, I’ll be more than happy. The Harbour is one of the loveliest places on the face of the earth. As for Manly, well, the surfing looks pretty good out there, and by the familial expert’s account, I needn’t worry over being short-sighted to have a go.

Comic Book Life
Haven’t we seen this movie? Mitsui is implementing a joint venture to produce a robot suit, essentially an exo-skeleton and assisted musculature. Iron Man, here we come, or M.A.N.T.I.S, anyway.

Klaatu Barada Nikto
Apparently the trouble all started in Ohio. I’m very glad to hear that everyone’s all right, just as glad as I was to be confirmed in my immediate supposition that the problem was all those air conditioners and weeks of high temperatures. “Third World Grid” is correct, as it appears to date to the same approximate era as can be found sub-Sahara. Not that I should necessarily be one to talk, with the overhead wires everywhere here, and the telephone lines in our Glebe building were 70 years old. Looking at the news coverage I was immediately reminded of The Day the Earth Stood Still,” the movie in which the galactic citizen arrives to warn us of the dire consequences of pursuing global warfare and demonstrates his power by shutting down (selectively) all the electricity on Earth. It must have been strange, quiet and dark, with the stars overhead. Did anyone go out and look? I would have.

1977
While the rolling brownouts California experienced one recent summer were the result of corporate malfeasance, it appears so far that the blackout presently occurring in the middle of rush hour in the Northeastern U.S. is a “natural” disaster, with a power plant fire disrupting the energy grid from Detroit, across Ottawa, and down to NYC. It appears the heat this summer and the demand on the system have combined in just the way Con Ed has been warning everyone lately. The nice Russian lady who sells coffee at Central Station broke the news to me, after she’d gotten off the phone with her family in Brooklyn, so they’re not completely cut off, although apparently cell phone networks are out. As much as I’m glad not to be there (I remember ’77, not to mention more recent events), I’m also a little sorry, wondering a little how Buffalo is getting on and our friends in Brooklyn and Queens and Manhattan, my former colleagues. . . . I hope no one’s caught in the subways or an elevator.

Update: "A normal day" tomorrow is being predicted by the Mayor. Except there won't be an ice cream anywhere, I'll bet, and there will be a pervasive odor of spoiled milk. And that many more people will be a little more nervous heading down to the subway.

George O.
Why does Bush II’s administration sound more and more like 1984: because John Ashcroft is the Attorney General. Among other reasons. Ashcroft’s latest is the Victory Act, and he’s going on a national tour to promote its passage. Not satisfied with the discriminatory violations available to him under the USA Patriots Act, Ashcroft is looking to this new bill (formerly a supplement to the original) to target Islamic banking and businesses as well as being able to eavesdrop on wireless communications at will. The Vital Interdiction of Criminal Terrorist Organizations [RY] Act also includes provisions for increased penalties in the failed “War on Drugs” the US has employed as a club in South and Central America for the last 40 years. (It’s nice they almost had an acronym, isn’t it? It would have been clever marketing if they’d come up with something for the last two letters to do. Perhaps we can email suggestions to the DOJ. Unless they meant “Victor” Act, because they think they’ve won already.)

Sunnydale, California: RIP
From what I’ve seen on the internet, Australia appears to be the last country to play the final season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which means it’s probably safe to write about the closing episode of the season without spoiling anyone’s fun. It was a lot of fun, too, although as it turns out, Buffy was really about Title IX all along. O.k., that’s a reference only Americans will understand straight off, but Buffy is a very American show. Title IX is a provision in federal civil rights legislation that requires that schools and universities fund men’s and women’s extra-curricular activities – e.g., and to the point, sports – equally. Basically, if a college is going to have a men’s soccer team, it has to ensure the women’s team gets the same level of funding and opportunity. Sounds fair enough, but the impact of Title IX has been huge since it was enacted, and it continues to have an evolutionary effect on education and society in general. The US didn’t have a World Cup-winning women’s team in soccer out of nowhere, you know. So last night Buffy enacted her own Title IX, which made for a perfect end to the season and to the series overall. Buffy has always been about giving women power, and it’s always been the female characters that have grown the most from show to show, season to season. Although most people will have seen kung fu and vampires, these were bait, hiding the real hook waiting to draw you in: the exploration of growing up and learning to be an adult, interacting with other adults. Well-written overall, if not terribly subtle (but never without humor), Buffy was one of the best shows on television.

Keep Watching the Skies
Haven’t we already seen this movie? Over in Perth, a 10-year old boy was nearly clobbered by a falling meteorite. They’re checking to see if it’s really a meteorite, but I think there’s two things they ought to be checking for: is there a bigger piece on the way, and will the boy develop super powers?

Publish or Perish
Check out They Came from Hollywood soon, as my haiku on The Crawling Eye is featured!

Syd-ney, Syd-ney!
Out to see the Swans play the Hawthorne Hawks on Saturday at the Sydney Cricket Ground, a fine old stadium, smaller than the Telstradome (formerly the Olympic Stadium). AFL is a thrill-a-minute came, borrowing from rugby and soccer and (God help us) basketball, by all appearances. After having seen a bit on television, I’d come to the conclusion that it is a game of no little precision, not to mention a lot of tearing around the field, but that really depends on a number of other factors. The Hawks kept Sydney’s possessions huddled into the center of the field for the most part, while managing to take the ball outside and in the air themselves, allowing them to score nearly at will. Sydney’s passing looked good, but wasn’t getting them very far, although they did manage to bring the game to within three goals in the second half. Still, for all that you can say it was a tight score, the Hawks outplayed the Swans, and playoff hopes now rest on next weekend’s game against Collingwood.

Enough sportswriting. I left the house a half an hour or so after dark and walked up to Moore Park, where the SCG is located, eventually joining a fair throng wending its way through Surry Hills. Saturday had been a little chilly, sunny overall, but with nightfall had cooled off still more, so I was a little surprised to see fruit bats swooping through the fig trees and over the ornamental ponds, hunting bugs. (When I was younger and went every year into the Adirondack mountains, we’d see bats, but little ones, and their flight was quite distinct from the swallows which would also be out hunting over the lakes; fruit bats, too, have a distinctive flying style: they look like those rubber bats you’d see in vampire movies, a heavy, leathery but languorous flapping.) I picked up a copy of the Record and paged through to glean what information I could prior to meeting my friend, Andy, who’d secured a place for me in the member’s stands from a friend of his, part of a group of nearly a dozen who go to the games quite regularly. (And yes, we had a mobile-moment: engrossed as I was in the Record, I wasn’t really watching for Andy, and he didn’t recognize me, either, rugged up as I was. We’d each brought our phones to triangulate our meeting, but when he placed the call, he was standing right behind me. Hilarity ensued.) I was very impressed with the crowd overall, the majority wearing their team’s colours, mostly knit hats and scarves, but also tall, stovepipe hats, striped like the cat-in-the-hat’s, lending a certain air to the proceedings they may not have intended. (I also learned that it’s the swans in western Australia, near Perth, that are black; otherwise, Australian swans are white, just like their northern hemisphere cousins, which fact I seemed to have gotten mixed up on. That explains a lot, but not, however, why Sydney teams seem to prefer less-than-fearsome beasts as mascots.) Ross and Andy and the others were very helpful, straightening me out on some of the finer points as well as correcting the assumptions I’d made.

In the event, Aussie Rules strikes me as the game of choice. Rugby’s all well and good, but it’s a game of brawn and grit, while AFL seems to employ more – and varied – skills, keeping the proceedings lively, even thrilling. I suppose I can still claim the Rabbitohs as my League team, but it may only be by rights of my status as a foreigner that I get away with it. Most people I’ve spoken to disparage (good naturedly, although I suppose there are those less even-minded) one sport over the other (and let’s not even address the difference between Rugby League vs. Rugby Union). There isn’t really a correlative sports divide in the States, though, so we’ll just mark up my inability to fully choose between them to culture.

Summer Tips to Remember
Windows open at the top and bottom equally for a reason, one the Victorians knew, and that we’ve apparently lost track of with the advent of electric fans and air conditioning. Because CFCs and global warming and drought conditions that last three years are a significant source of environmentalist concern, it seems reasonable to use low-tech solutions to the situations brought about or exacerbated by technological innovation. But window screens are essential.

Athletics
This weekend is the City-to-Surf, a 15K foot race through Sydney. I won’t be participating this year – I’ve been pretty slack getting into shape for even 5K – but I’m ready for the next one, at least insofar as the gear’s concerned. This past Monday, an official Keith Richards Athletic Club singlet arrived in the mail. I probably need to promote some participation among other, similarly minded athletes here, but this establishes the Sydney chapter. Now to hit the streets. . . .

Green Pastures
A couple of years ago, a sewage treatment plant up in Harlem was roofed over with a pretty, grassy playground. I haven’t heard much lately, but at the time it was a pretty dismal affair, as it apparently smelled very bad indeed, angering the neighbors, as they felt slighted that the city expected they wouldn’t mind using a smelly playground. Maybe things have improved. Meanwhile, another greenway effort is underway in Milwaukee, where the sewer district’s headquarters has installed a rooftop garden. O.k., it’s not a garden; it’s a stormwater management system. At 11,000 square feet (about 1021 square meters), it’s a fairly large building, and the effect is expected to be significant. There’s a big call here by the government for homeowners to install rainwater tanks, but I wonder if a similar hydroponics approach might be another way to go? Perhaps strata and company title buildings could pursue an organic co-op effort on their roofs? But would the natural rainfall be enough? It’s starting to look like another year of drought, after all. Well, there’s always cactus. (Thanks to Nick Aster, at Beyond Brilliance, Beyond Stupidity for the Journal-Sentinel link.)

Render Unto Caesar
Bush II’s radical fundamentalist outlook explains a lot of his opposition to gay marriage. He is also a typically short-sighted politician in this respect and a rampant homophobe. John Howard has decided to weigh in with his support for Bush II’s position, but he’s taken the take that government should support male-female-only marriage because it is required for the “survival of the species.” Marriage is a civil contract between two persons to engage in mutual support, and traditionally that has entailed support of any offspring. Religions have sought to endorse this contractual obligation by adding quasi-mystical elements. People make these commitments outside of marriage, too (which is one of the factors that imperil institutional religions). Acknowledging that homosexuals can and often do commit themselves to monogamous relationships by allowing them to register their pledge with the state imperils nothing, at least no further than it is already affected. Governments, despite Howard’s statement, are not often engaged in ensuring the survival of the species, but rather the maximization of an on-going tax base: they ensure their own survival. Because of the significance of the Religious Right in politics, particularly during the Reagan administration, there is a perception that political survival depends on catering to the requirements of fundamentalists, at least in part, a practice that has two effects: first, a “Catch-22,” wherein the influence of the Religious Right increases even while politicians strive to distance themselves from it, because they also seek to placate it (like a stray dog, the more you feed it, the more likely it is to follow you home, the very situation that has put Bush II in office); second, a rise in violent activism – the same conditions faced by the Saudis, among others – and there were enough anti-abortion-related bombings and shootings in the U.S. to give anyone concern. Governments should build and maintain roads and bridges, fund courts and schools, provide for a reasonable level of national defense, and seek to generally improve the quality of life among their constituent populations. Instead, we see them seeking to qualify what life is. Clinton may have had the education to engage in philosophical debate, but I don’t see any evidence that Bush II or Howard can manage it.

Mobs & Collective Activity
O.k., so everybody’s heard about the Flash Mob phenomenon, and if you’ve been following it in the major newspapers et al., then you’ll also have encountered references to Smart Mobs, which are a political version, not yet a phenomenon, but expected at some point, as a result of the same technology and connectedness that has given us it’s precursor. There is a smaller version, however, and it’s been around a while now, called an Art Collective. Evidently, Art Collectives are experiencing a resurgence (although it’s not entirely clear from the article what they actually do). Flash Mobs seem to exist between these two. They have an artistic element and appear to be trending toward a political content. They are absurdist and activist. (You could also say they’re Happenings for the Attention Deficit Disorder generation.) Can we expect Flash to morph into Smart? It seems more likely that they’ll fade away like any other fad, perhaps to have moments of recurrence over the years, like the Art Collectives. But have a look over at Flock Smart, and you might change your mind about that.

Dentistry
What with the familial connection I have with the dental arts – Mom was a professional hygienist and performed or instigated our tooth care – I take a certain interest beyond the usual, so last night’s trip for a check-up and cleaning was notable. I have not ever had someone else do all the work for me: even rinse-and-spit. The equipment was the cleanest and most modern I’ve run across and the professionalism was top-notch. We’ve all seen the Simpsons joke about the “Big Book of British Smiles,” used to terrorize small children into brushing regularly, but clearly Australia has gone to some lengths, at least lately, to ensure there’s no corresponding Australian edition. Good news, too, since tooth decay equals heart disease.

Remarkable Story from Woking
Last night looking at the night sky to the east, M and I could see an unmoving, reddish object in the sky. Is it a satellite? Yes, probably; certainly not a plane. Hmm. Maybe it was Mars. Or maybe it was one of those cylinders launched back in the ‘30s by Orson Wells and in 1898 by H. G. Wells. There are definite advantages to living in a place with lower levels of waste light than you get in Europe and North America

Events of the Day
In the words of 50 Cent (who picked that name?): “It’s your birthday, we’re going to party like it’s your birthday. . . .” Yes, it’s M.’s birthday today, although we had the party on Saturday. We had a good crowd, quite a mix, and everybody had a good time. It started early and ran late, always a good sign. We didn’t do presents, but some turned up anyway, and they were all very thoughtful. (I think Spirited Away was supposed to be for my birthday instead, though.)

Papers? Show Me Your Papers
I’m one of those people who believe that my right to travel within the U.S. does not require the use of identification, but the potential for internal security documentation requirements will soon reach the point where we all throw up our hands and give in. The Transportation Security Administration is about to impose new restrictions on persons seeking to travel on any commercial flight in the country. I especially like that they’re targeting “violent felons” so we don’t have to fly next to an “ax murderer.” Do they believe their own lies? This is very obviously another one of the civil liberty infringements the Bush Administration is attempting under the banner of keeping us safe from terrorists, but the killers who flew the planes in the terror attacks of September 11 wouldn’t have been picked up this way, would they? It’s of particular interest that they mention locating members of the Animal Liberation Front, an extreme activist group (who haven’t killed anyone, by the way). Read the Department of Homeland Security’s press release, but keep your blood pressure medication handy.

Return to Bali
Although the Kuta Club, the primary target in last year’s terror attack on Australians, has not been rebuilt (and it won’t be, not until after twelve months have passed, so as to ensure no evil spirits remain), the other bombing site in Bali, Paddy’s Irish Pub, reopened its doors on Saturday, full of the sound of ‘Strine, once again. It’s a very nice thing for Bali, and for those of us feeling the effects of September 11 and October 12 it’s a very heartening event, especially when so many of the survivors were able and willing to return to Bali for the celebration.

Bad Ideas
John M. Poindexter has been fired by the Pentagon. As a leader in the production of bad ideas – beginning with the Iran/Contra arms for hostages scam, and proceeding to proposing that the Pentagon maintain electronic surveillance (internet, telephone, television, etc.) of all Americans to weed out the terrorists – the convicted felon and Admiral lost all credibility by proposing the almost immediately discredited idea of a “futures market” in terror attack intelligence. A brilliant idea, isn’t it, as anybody who managed to do well in such a scheme would have to be a terrorist themselves, and therefore prosecutable for insider trading. As much trouble as I have understanding how he got a job in the first place, I’m still amazed it took this long to fire him. Good riddance. (Who’s next?)

There’s Still Nothing Better
Sliced bread is 75 years old. And if it’s Wonder™, it’s probably still fresh. (via Manic, at Bloggerheads.)

Nothing Better to Do
What, exactly, is wrong with George II? I understand why his cowardice would exhibit itself by perpetuating the terror threat and perpetrating illegal warfare (he is a failed oilman, after all, whose self-worth is based at least in part on legitimizing his father’s term in office and portraying himself as a capable businessman), but why is he so afraid of homosexuals? On the other hand, because this is being proposed as a Constitutional amendment, it’s unlikely to pass.

Update: Making abstinence the primary focus of AIDS prevention further demonstrates our idiot president's homophobia, as it suggests that gays wouldn't contract HIV if they weren't gay, a result that could be achieved by not having sex.

SPF 30+
I have my doubts about going out in the summer without a hat and “sunnies” this year, but NASA’s telling me the ozone hole’s getting smaller. Well, it’s not getting bigger at the same rate, anyway. While the reduction in the use of CFCs is being credited, scientists are also indicating that the rise of greenhouse gases may also be acting to restore the ozone layer. So it’s getting hotter and less breathable, but we’re better protected from UV rays? That’s not a viable trade-off to me. Maybe if more people signed up with Skyfish and signed the recognition of responsibility, we’d get some action around here. Maybe a few more First World nations could sign the Kyoto Accords, too.

Lobbying to Prevent Change
It is simply a part of doing business that corporations will form or ally themselves with lobbying groups to push forward their agenda by influencing legislators to protect entrenched practices even in the face of public opposition. As we witness giant mergers taking place year after year, we also see these business giants becoming increasingly dominant in society, to the point where they wield a measure of influence comparable to small countries. They ensure their position by campaign finance programs so that short-sighted politicians act on their behalf. Even before the events of September 11, legislation was sought in the Senate – sponsored by Jesse Helms – to enshrine animal experimentation in law. That effort pretty much died in committee, but a new effort is underway by the American Legislative Exchange Council: the Animal and Ecological Terrorism Act, a measure by all indications even more draconian than the USA Patriot Act. This time the campaign appears to be more insidious, not only because ALEC has a pretty good lobbying record at getting bills voted on, but also in that their efforts are being directed toward the States, effectively bypassing the national news sources (as well as providing the federal government with the appearance of a national public-based groundswell). Texas and New York have already introduced bills modelled on ALEC’s proposal, and there are indications other States legislators are interested in seeing a positive outcome. It appears patently unconstitutional to me, as – using language from the Texas bill – defining an animal rights group as “two or more persons organized for the purpose of supporting any politically motivated activity intended to obstruct or deter any person from participating in an activity involving animals or... natural resources” would seem to violate the Bill of Rights’ protection of free association. And making out such a group to be terrorists is exploitive of the climate of fear the Bush Administration has sought to impose on the country. Organizations such as Earth First! and the Animal Liberation Front have been reported as having acted in a manner classifiable as criminal under existing statutes, but laws as broadly written as this could put you in jeopardy for signing a World Wildlife Fund petition. While the political focus is on Washington for the most part, State legislation like this can make progress. I usually feel I can rely on the courts to ensure such acts do not last on the books, but while they are there, they can do more damage to our freedoms and to our progress as thoughtful, caring beings with a commitment to the environment and to ethical behavior than is often realized. Keep an eye on these people: they’re dangerous.

Flash Animation
I use the term “Flash” both in the Registered Trademark sense and the Britishism denoting something as particularly notable in a stylish fashion. Samorost is an animated on-line game, in which you attempt to save the character’s planet (or whatever) from destruction by a blithe group of tea-pickers (whose foreman is a Fred Schneider look-alike stoned caterpillar). You’ve got to mouse around to find the click-points, sort of like Myst, and then figure out how to make things work the way you want them to. Hours of fun for those with broadband.

Reforestation
Plant a tree on Kangaroo Island. You’ll need 99 friends to join you (NEC plants one tree for every 100 “leaves” posted). Ecological, but.

If Man Was Meant to Fly . . .
He’d have a flying suit. Add this to the list of superhero clothes: imagine swooping down like Daredevil from a rooftop you ascended like Spiderman, but with more control, and zapping your opponent at a touch, and he or she never even saw you coming. Yea!

Update: Did I say Daredevil? I meant Crossfire.

The View from Here
I’ve only worked in 6 different buildings in NYC and most were more often characterized by the lack of a view than an inspiring or panoramic vista as the movies would have you believe. That had as much to do with being located on lower floors than were available as it did with the close proximity of other, larger buildings blocking the windows from across the street. When I worked at 140 Broadway, the view was of apartments across Liberty Street – entertaining in its way, especially early in the morning, when residents were still at home. At Scholastic, in Soho, we had a dance studio across the way, the one used in Center Stage during an especially egregious scene involving what looks more like aerobics than modern dance, but also there was a rooftop garden, which later figured in providing the single most indelible witnessing of my tenure in that city. The World Trade Center offered extensive views of the Jersey shoreline swamps and petroleum processing stations, but also the Tappen Zee bridge on especially clear days and clouds at your feet some rainy mornings. It was also the most unobstructed view I ever had, although that sometimes made it somehow less interesting than those with some art deco monolith in the way, such as when I worked at Chase Plaza, just off Wall Street. One view I never had was the kind I get now: trees. And birds. (The birds are a bit of a worry sometimes, as they’ll get pretty noisy, and it can sound like you’re in a Tarzan movie as a result – except for the kookaburras, which sound like nothing else.) Now that I live in a country where deciduous trees are the exception, I get lush verdure all year ‘round, admittedly as a result of being out in the suburbs in a landscaped industrial park (not the prettiest one I’ve ever seen, which was about an hour north of Atlanta, Georgia, where office blocks towered up from the edges of heavily wooded State Park land). My preference is for the dynamism of the city, and even more for a view of the water. Unlike NYC’s harbor, Sydney’s is dominated by the Bridge, and pictures don’t do it justice. Yesterday morning, running down the last stretch of Macquarie Street onto the Opera House plaza, the Harbour Bridge’s arc ended in a bit of obscuring cloud tinged pink with the sunrise. As massive as the structure is, it’s like a frame to the Harbour (always capitalized), one of those heavy, ornate frames you’ll see appearing to swallow up an impressionist painting, except that, as with the painting, the frame removes itself from conscious perception without actually disappearing, thereby setting the painting off from all else around it. For such a simple seeming structure, the Harbour Bridge is a visionary piece of architecture, imposing without being an imposition. Perhaps it is a function of life in Sydney that I should find myself mediating on a job change just to get closer to the Harbour; something to explore later.

Etymology & Anthropology
People have been asking me for years what my last name means in the original German, and I have never had a clue. Well, we always thought the first syllable means “old” or “other,” but since I don’t speak German and never met anyone who does – funny, isn’t it? – there was no way to be sure. Vitalog is a compendium of names that allows you to search for the meaning of your surname. Mine, of course, remains obscure, but there are at least hints toward a meaning, the first syllable potentially being a prefix used to designate the younger of two persons otherwise similar, and the last two being German for “plowman.” I admit to hoping for better.

Is It Drafty in Here?
I suppose that since open criticism of Bush II’s Imperium is cause for disciplinary action (but probably not discharge) in the military, plans to increase the size of the standing armed forces shouldn’t be unexpected. I am admittedly somewhat torn in my sympathies for those who are presently in the National Guard (some I know joined specifically because they needed the extra paycheck, but didn’t they have to know it could come to this?), but I am grinding my teeth to nubs over the prospect of Bush’s oil greed getting the U.S. in so deep that we have to return to the draft. I may not be the only one thinking this way.

Afro-Beat King
The Times has always loved Fela, so it’s no wonder they make such a point of reporting on the latest exhibit at the New Museum, “Black President.” I remember reading about him in the Times long before I actually found any of his music. I got to see him perform only once; although concerts were scheduled more often than you’d expect, the Nigerian government would toss him in jail or deny exit visas to his wives or band members, so I count myself lucky. In the two hours of that one concert, I think he played maybe five songs, an example of one of the things I love most about the music: he never gave up on a swinging groove. Hypnotic isn’t descriptive enough; Fela’s music is compelling.

Eulogy
John Clayton, M.’s grandfather, died on Saturday morning. We had been warned by his doctors that it could happen soon, but they also said he could last for months, even a year, and we thought we’d have more time, and weren’t really prepared. I don’t suppose anyone ever is. John and M. were very close; he’d been the most stable and reliably present grown-up male in her life, and they’d doted on one another. I only got to spend time with him on visits out to Windsor over these last eight months or so, and didn’t get to hear half the stories he’d have had to tell: his childhood in Burma, which his family left when we was still little, fleeing the Japanese invasion prior to World War II; his years driving taxis on the Central Coast. . . . There’d have been more, besides. He was a bit of a rake in his day, sporting an Elvis pompadour and getting in a little trouble here and there as a young man. Like many Australians, his love for sports had its particular focal points, not least being horse racing, but also Aussie Rules. The night he died, his team, the Sydney Swans, trounced St. Kilda. The first half would have been an anxious one for him, as the score was pretty tight, but the second would have been very satisfying, as the Saints never got close to the spread again. It’s silly, but it’s sort of comforting that it worked out that way. Rest in Peace, Johnny.

Art of Noise
Album cover graphics have long been at the pinnacle of effective marketing techniques, and the better the art, the better the music. Well that’s one idea. Sometimes, the opposite holds true. But album covers have been more than just songs-and-sidemen listings, with multitudes of coffee-table books for sale and web sites devoted to them. CDs spoiled all that, although there are hints of a come-back, now that digital manipulations are making even the small-scale glossies in the jewel boxes more distinct and more distinctive. I’m trying to think of a new CD I’ve purchased where the cover art wouldn’t be improved by being a square foot of cardboard, and only Sigur Ros’s ( ) comes to mind. Exit Art, in Soho, NYC, had a show devoted to album covers, and covered not only history but an entire aesthetic range as well, and it was worth attending, so I’ll recommend the show at Punch, in San Francisco, sight unseen.

I Got the Music in Me
You are what you listen to according to researchers at the University of Texas. Well, I’m no fan of Jennifer Lopez and don’t think I’ve ever heard Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes, but they all sound a bit like newspaper horoscope analyses to me anyway.

Mob
A bit more information on the Insta-Mob phenomenon. “Bill” sounds like a clever and sociable person, but I need 150 people to run an event of my own, plus a couple of digital camcorders. I probably should have a collaborator experienced in such things, too. And more friends. Cheese Bikini, where the group is referred to as a “Flash Mob,” cribbing from science fiction author Larry Niven, has transcripts of the invitations, and photos of Mob 3. (See also The Official Record.)

Can’t You See I’m Winning?
The Horn & Hardart Automat was a wonderful place, although my experience of them was brief and very late in the game. Steve Stollman’s collection of information and images of those dining facilities is a nice little resource, whether your interest is in recipes, getting the parts to build one, or just nostalgia, and, hey, I think that’s my dad getting some pie in that picture! (Thanks to Lester Norton, a.k.a. Solonor Rasreth, at Solonor’s Ink Well, where you can also see the joke referred to in the title here.)

Free Speech Zone
Following Lester Norton’s lead, I’m declaring this ‘blog as a Free Speech Zone. It’s stupid, I know, but John Ashcroft is the devil’s minion and I support the right of every American to speak in public on whatever issue they choose wherever they choose. We don’t need no Hyde Park Speaker’s Corner, this is America, baby! Free Brett Bursey! Maybe it’ll become a trend.

Rendering Unto Caesar
I’ve spent hours working over the forms and reading the instructions and after ranging from a whopping tax bill to a whoo-hoo refund and everything in between, it looks like Australia’s gonna owe me a nice bit of dough, which result I’ve come to after loading up the e-tax software, stepping through all the questions, filling in all the fields, and letting the program figure it out for me, which is the second best part of using the software (because I don’t actually have to do math). The third best part is that they pay within 3 weeks of filing. I’ll bet the IRS can’t beat that.

Meta
My Five is a ‘blog content project not unlike the Friday Five, except that it’s more open-ended regarding when you post, it updates on Mondays, and it isn’t topical. Instead, you’re only required to use the five suggested words in a single post. I think this may be a little more creative than the Friday Five, since my habits of a given week generally lead to enough posts that I’m not at a loss for material, even if I only reflect on some news item, or someone else’s ‘blog – which may be very boring for some, sorry – so I like the challenge, like the one presented to Ravel, that he use a single strand of melody to construct a symphonic composition, and which produced the “Bolero.” (Got ‘em.) (Found at Witty Banter.)

The Nigerian Banking Fraud Email Scam
I’ve only gotten one email of this kind, although people I know have had dozens. They are beyond belief, as is that anyone would fall for one. On the other hand, recent revelations about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq suggest there’s a patsy in the White House, just waiting to be bilked. (Eschaton, via Kenneth Miles, the Unaustralian.)

Partially Hydrogenated
The latest development in the food wars is the FDA’s requirement that nutrition labels include information on trans fats, which are the result of processing vegetable oils in such a way as to increase their self-life. I can see this affecting the fast food fat fight. McDonald’s, for example, uses partially hydrogenated vegetable oil to cook its fries (when it isn’t using lard, a practice they only recently stopped following a Hindu class action lawsuit), although just last year they announced they would use a trans fat-free oil instead, indicating to me at least that they saw the writing on the wall. I remained in blissful ignorance of these issues for many years, unlike most vegetarians and vegans. I still don’t particularly care personally, but I do see these developments as positive in the long-term overall. Meanwhile, if you read the labels carefully, you don’t have to wait until 2006 to find the trans fats.

Watching the Watchers
The events of September 11 were not only horrifying, they were frightening, and one group that became very frightened indeed is the politically incestuous elite presently holding office in the White House. George Bush was so severely affected that he now regards everyone in the world as a potential threat to his continued wealth and ability to hold power. This is a problem for America and the world because even before that day, Bush had gathered around himself a group of political extremists fully prepared to put into effect any measures they could conceive of to ensure their own participation and pre-eminence in the power and wealth structure the Bush administration promised. It is in the nature of the military and intelligence organizations that act as the enforcement arms of American policy that they should ensure the continued well-being of the administration regardless of their overall political tenor. The Pentagon and CIA will act according to whatever restraints or lack thereof is established by the liberalism or conservatism of the Executive in office. It is also in the nature of these branches of government that they should seek to maintain the level of public funding to which they are accustomed, and this is done the same way it is in any enterprise: by spending as much or more of any budget as possible. Spending money justifies spending more. If the expenditures exceed the budget, then the following fiscal period’s budget must need to be increased. If funding increases, spending will rise to meet it. George Bush’s fear and the military’s compulsion to justify their existence and spending levels meet in CTS, the Combat Zones That See technology currently under development by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), and which is discussed in an admittedly hyperbolic article in the Village Voice. It’s probably too late, but cowards like Bush don’t belong in the Oval Office, because they will make things worse instead of better.

Happenings Happening
They’re called Insta-mobs these days, but they sound like happenings to me. A little planning and an SMS/email list of willing participants is all that appears to be needed to create these performance pieces. Sydney artists may want to check in with Flocksmart.com, although it appears they need some encouragement towards an international resourcing commitment. (Via Arts Journal.com.)

As Lovely as a Tree
There is a Literature Nobel waiting for the author of Wocky Jivvy. Excuse me while I set out to write the next winning entry for the Wergle Flomp Poetry Contest. (Via Making Light.)

Consumerism
Which do I buy first, the CD or the book?

Love It or Leave It
I’ve been seeing a bit about America in the various journals and weblogs I read, and it prompts some amount of reflection on my part as well. I am, after all, living in a different country than I was born in without being an ex-pat or an exile. I don’t regard myself particularly as an immigrant either, if only because I do not intend to relinquish my citizenship. I moved to a country where I already spoke the language and arrived with a work permit – how lucky is that? When I was travelling up to Connecticut for work, I’d see a dozen or so Mexican or South American itinerants on a dozen or so various street corners waiting to be selected for a day’s labor, a common enough sight across the U.S. The English available to those men or to the shopkeepers in Queens and elsewhere is limited, and how many across the country have sufficient Spanish or Korean to make a conversation? Across Europe, though, how many have enough Turkish or Ibo to speak to the laborers who come to live in those countries? Arabic may be a common linguistic currency among the Arab nations, but I seriously question how far that will get anyone below a certain level of privilege and the education that comes with it. Koranic instruction in a madrassa will only get you so far, if you even manage that much. And how many of these immigrant laborers actually have government-issued visas? In Germany, France, and Britain you can read in the papers about the trials and discrimination against immigrants that sometimes erupt into violence. The same thing happens in the U.S. It happens in Australia, too. When it happens anywhere, there is an outcry, and rightly so. When it happens in the U.S. there’s an outcry everywhere. Fair enough, because the U.S. touts its tolerance, it’s welcome to immigrants, its status as the best place on earth. I sometimes think the other Western nations do a better job, except of course for the National Front and the Holocaust deniers, both of whom have their incarnations in the States, but who have an easier time being heard in Europe, just as the Islamofascists apparently do in the Middle East and Indonesia. Certainly the U.S. stands as a paradise compared to Africa and South America, and much of the South Pacific is incapable of sustaining itself as fully functioning nations. Yes, the President of my country is an idiot and his administration is intent upon enriching a selected few (I didn’t vote for him, really, and I won’t when he stands for re-election either), but look at some of the other world leaders and tell me you don’t have any complaints. The days of “love it or leave it” are long past, or should be, so I worry when I see abusive legislation like the US Patriots Act, especially when I don’t feel I can entirely trust the Supreme Court. Similarly, it concerns me when I see ASIO get expanded powers of arrest and detention, here in Australia, especially when the treatment of immigrants, refugees among them, is so troubling. Whether it’s John Ashcroft of Phillip Ruddock, I’m concerned by what I see. But again, I’m lucky. I’m a citizen of a country where I am free to speak out, to gather with like-minded others and to speak collectively, and I live in another country where I have the same rights, among people who act on those rights, just as they do in the country I left. There are surveillance cameras everywhere – in Sydney, New York, Hamburg, Glasgow . . . – and there are city leaders who deny permits to protest marchers, employing police to contain rallies, subjecting Nobel Prize winners to house arrest, but in the nations of the West, that isn’t the end of the story. We all focus on the negative events, and we should – eternal vigilance, remember – but we should also remember and hold firmly to the principles that make up our freedoms and those that allow us to enshrine them. Laws are made by people; they do not exist separately from us in some distinct, ethereal sphere. The Rule of Law is a collective agreement, and it’s a good one, but only insofar as the laws are also good. That’s why Constitutional amendments banning flag desecration or Gay marriage are so offensive. That the U.S. Constitution is drawn broadly enough to allow such amendments is dangerous only insofar as there are those who would abuse the Rule of Law to impose their own limited scope of vision out of selfishness – that’s tyranny, the other kind of Rule of Law. But Prohibition was repealed, and the amendments necessary to ensure civil rights for all still stand. Look, it’s not perfect. I can’t point to a single government or system that is. Compulsory voting sounds good, and maybe it mostly works; there are as many systems as there are democratic governments. Parliaments and Prime Ministers seem to manage to get things done (or not) just as much as the U.S. Congress and President. At the time, back in 1776, America was ruled from overseas by a government not significantly different from that of any other European power. Jefferson and Adams and Franklin and the rest sought to supply a better option, a “more perfect union.” A lot of other countries followed suit over the ensuing decades, either by evolution or by revolution and we’ve been making improvements ever since, not without mistakes, but not without progress either. It’s when the errors are born of hubris that we stumble worst, just like anybody else.

Meta
I note that Rana has added us to her list of Fellow Travellers, a gratifying development. And I’m going to try that method of dosing the cat. (I think only sweaters take a verb form of "pill," and as for bathing her, my preferred method – other than letting the beast do it herself – is to get a pack of “cat wipes” and rub her down. It becomes a battle for supremacy, but I’ll take the hits.)

Hamburglars
Is Fast Food addictive? If it is, I suppose there’s an argument to be made that the burger mills bear some measure of responsibility for making you fat, but what’s the difference between fast food and short order cooking? Should Jacques Pepin pull his cloche down over his face like a balaclava and run for cover? (Probably not, as it’s the deep pockets that get targeted in these situations, and Michelin stars aren’t enough of a portfolio to get you in trouble just yet.) Food is essential. We can’t get by on vitamin pills and space sticks. Butter and eggs are just ingredients, of course, and from the range of products, soy has pretty much supplanted most meat and dairy food items quite successfully. Well, maybe not so much dairy, but it’s getting there. But the lawsuits are moving ahead, attempting to assign blame the way the anti-smoking suits did. The difference I see is that the cigarette companies spent years denying and hiding the truth about their products: not that smoking would kill you – the packets have the warnings, and everyone who smoked read them and believed them – but that tobacco had no addictive quality. So smokers read the warnings and didn’t care too much, because they had to have a cigarette. I quit a couple of years ago now, thanks to M., who provided an inarguable incentive and also Allen Carr’s “Easy Way” (which uses a very forthright method of deprogramming you into a mindset from which it is, indeed, easy to quit), and I’m a little amazed at how simple it was to just ignore the addiction even while acknowledging it. It’s a pretty minor jones, but it’s no less real. Do hamburgers have a similar addictive component, or french fries? Is it all that sugar? Good luck to the plaintiffs; it’s going to be a long time before they see a dime. On the other hand, PETA is suing KFC, and this seems a more honest approach and more likely to prevail. Now, just mentioning PETA is enough to set some people off, but they are consistent and determined, and there’s more than a little in favor of their argument. Animals are cruelly treated as they are processed into food, and there’s no excuse for it. Peter Singer (another red flag for many people indeed, and someone who is inevitably trotted out in these discussions –see, I’m doing it, too) argues we can have it both ways, promoting as he does the “quality of life” method of raising animals for food, and both McDonalds and Burger King have been moving lately toward something like this approach, although the scale of production they require makes it more than just difficult for them to pursue their business model and follow Singer’s proposed methodology. KFC’s promises, whether fulfilled or not, as the lawsuit may yet prove, are also a step in this direction. I’ll be very interested in how this turns out: credit where credit’s due, we seem to come closer all the time toward PETA’s vision of the world every day, so while this will probably be tossed out or settled, I expect the litigation will have an effect, unlike the obesity suits.

Be Careful What You Ask For
”Give me a sign” seems more usually to be met with silence than the requested overt indication requested, but not this time. I’d think about retiring.

Holden Caulfield, ‘03
Igby Goes Down is a nice enough contemporization of Catcher in the Rye, but a bit disordered and cluttered finally. It inspired no great nostalgia for NYC, even though much of the film was set in neighborhoods M. and I frequented. There wasn’t a shot in the film we didn’t recognize, and that was entertaining, although I did mistake Georgetown for Brooklyn Heights. Honest mistake.

There are quite a few other movies yet to be seen this winter, other than the “blockbusters,” such as Lost in LaMancha, 25th Hour, Man Without a Past, maybe even Travelling Birds (Winged Migration in the States, which is a sillier title), though that one may be an Imax kind of film.

Health & Fitness
I’ve begun a new regimen: get up early and run down to the Opera House and back. It’s a bit chilly out there right now, but if I can turn this into a routine, it will stand me in good stead for summer. It’s also a bit dark, at least at first: the sun’s well up in the sky by the time I get to the harbour. Still, as I crest the final hill, the sails of the Opera House appear, poking up above the palms in the conservatory gardens, and I can well imagine them as the sails of a tremendous vessel from the earliest days of exploration and colonization of this continent. They offer an uncanny moment for me each time. The spread of the harbour and the vast scale of the Harbour Bridge also cause me to reflect on Sydney vis a vis other cities I have seen. Like most downtowns, Sydney’s CBD is an agglomeration of skyscrapers, with smaller buildings scattered among them as well. Open public spaces are not unusual either, offering welcome greenery. But the vast cut of the harbour into the city seems to have provided and prevailed upon the city builders to continue an openness that strikes me as quite unique. Remember the first time you ate in a restaurant with an open kitchen? It seemed bigger than the rooms you’d been in previously, and the dining experience seemed more integrated – you could feel that you were truly a part of the entire enterprise, its intent. As I enter the plaza spread along the harbour and in front of the Opera House, even dominated by the “Coat Hanger” as it is, that openness and integration is very much the experience, carried visually, but sensed and felt, not as if you are being embraced by the city, but that you are embracing it. I can’t say I ever got this feeling in NYC, neither at Battery Park nor on the Brooklyn Promenade. Looking out over New York Harbor from the Battery, I would get a sense of possibility, but turning around or standing on the Promenade I would more usually feel the weight of the city, its density, and its power. I rather like the feeling I get here, that I provide the definition of Sydney that I want. It isn’t so much about me, about what possibilities are on offer for me to be or do, but rather about what the place will be because of me. Of course, then I have to swing around and head back uphill. . . .

Geeks to the Rescue
The ”Soft Walls” anti-hijacking concept sounds like the kind of workable solution that would eventually have quite a range of possible applications, but I don’t understand the reported resistance from pilots. It certainly sounds better than being shot down to me.

Macaroni
I never did understand the lyrics to Yankee Doodle, but leaving that aside, Happy Fourth of July, my fellow Americans. And don’t forget the price of liberty is eternal vigilance.

Marketing
I read with interest about Jason Wilson, who sells what he writes directly, taking up position on King Street in Newtown, Sydney (although I wouldn’t have normally characterized a writer as a “busker”; it’s not like he does a little dance if you buy a story). It’s catching on, apparently, as pointed on in the International Herald Tribune’s recent piece on Adrian Brune, who’s doing the same thing in New York (occupying the usual venue for these activities: the subway). It reminds of me the early 80’s, back in the day when I harbored some literary pretentions, which were usually satisfied by the desperate struggle to keep up with the underground literary scene, one that was exploding out from everywhere, not just the Lower East Side and East Village neighborhoods they’d retreated to following the initial yuppie boom. I wonder if this doesn’t now constitute a trend, and if so, does that have implications for understanding the time we are now a-livin’ in? (Sorry, Mr. Dylan.) The Beats had the initial throes of the Cold War and the buttoned-down social mores to drum against, and the hippie/Yippie factions were electrified by Vietnam and political malfeasance well into the 1970’s. I’m not sure precisely what drivers were at work during the 80’s, when I was chasing down long-gone journals of bad poetry (usually; there was some good stuff, too, but as always when there’s a bit of a glut going on, there’s more bad than good). Perhaps we’re on the verge of a new exciting time in literature, although I admit to having been looking lately more to the internet as a (re)source than to the street. (Props to Gianna at She Sells Sanctuary for the IHT link.)

Liberty & Liberia
I note with some trepidation that the photo accompanying the Times article on intervening in Liberia, that GWB is standing in front of a mural depicting the Rough Rider himself, Theodore Roosevelt. Sub-Saharan Africa is the most violently troubled region on the face of the earth – yes, even more than the Middle East – and as such it has been one of the most grievous failures of U.S. foreign policy that all we’ve ever done is supply foreign aid to undeserving governments or impose economic sanctions on the countries best able to endure them. Non-intervention in Rwanda was a moral failure, and the Somalia pull-out was a failure of courage. Liberia is the nearest thing in Africa to a state created by the U.S., although it is not so in the imperialist sense the rest of the continent was subdivided into nations by the Europeans, an ethical distinction offering some relief to our national conscience. Nevertheless, as such, and also in light of previous inaction, the situation there, as in the former Zimbabwe, requires out response. We are undeniably stretched thin as a result of The Idiot’s Iraqi adventurism, coupled with the dangerous militarist foreign policies espoused toward North Korea and Iran. Unfortunately, having alienated most the United Nations, it will likely be difficult for the U.S. to move that body’s constituents toward standing up for peace. The world becomes more dangerous, a situation that is only exacerbated by the words and actions of the Bush scion. My support for action in Liberia is therefore tempered by my dismay at the international undertakings so far committed by this administration.

Does Whatever a Spider Can
Spiderman Gloves that really work. Well, someday, and only if they can get the price down a bit. Meanwhile, I guess we can't expect to accessorize with gecko tape gloves just yet. I wonder if they're taking pre-sales orders?

”The Calla Lilies Are in Bloom”
Such a curious flower, suitable for any occasion. . . . I place them here in memory of [somebody who] has died.”

Qualifications
Rana ought to come to Australia, from the sound of things regarding her interests. There is the issue of getting a visa, though. I, of course, was lucky, and married into the country, but, look: deserts (or desertification, anyway), linguistic puzzles (who came up with drongo, and isn’t spit the dummy a lovely phrase) . . . and so much more.

South Seas
It occurs to me somehow that I am severely remiss in what I am reading for pleasure. There is, of course, the wealth of Australian literature that I need to pursue, novels and stories and poetry that often doesn’t make much splash in the fecund output of American publishing, The Thorn Birds notwithstanding. M.’s collection will provide something to carry on the train with me for no little time yet to come, but leaving that aside, I think it’s about time I picked up Joseph Conrad again. Conrad’s been a long-time favorite of mine, but other than re-reading Nostromo about a year ago, I’ve mostly been thinking of his oeuvre as “why don’t I have a copy of Heart of Darkness anywhere?” But I do, actually, as I have in my possession the Viking Portable Conrad, which collects and arranges all his short fiction, including that novella. Although Conrad’s settings are more “out of Australia” than in it, the islands of the Pacific affording him his seafaring adventures more than the continental landmasses could, Australia is the result of English imperialism in the South Seas, so I wouldn’t wonder if Youth and Victory and such other tales won’t offer me a similar narrative point of view to that which settled this country prior to Federation but following colonization. Maybe it’s just the palm trees, although I never got this feeling in Los Angeles.

Obit
Faced with the death of someone so old and so successful [note: irony. ed.], it's difficult to say anything about Strom Thurmond. When he was alive, I regarded him as an ancient racist, whose life perpetuated attitudes that should have long passed from the political scene. Simplistic, I know, as Thurmond was not solely responsible for racial prejudice in the U.S. - he was only 100, after all. Now that he's dead, I have to acknowledge his war record and that he probably did believe he wasn't a bigot. He was, though, and if he'd had the sense to retire years ago, I wouldn't be in this position. Even after getting kicked out of paradise, Lucifer probably still regarded himself as an angel, and so it was with Thurmond.

The Arch-Enemy of Evil
Doc Savage was a character from the pulp fiction days of the 1930’s & ‘40’s. In my lifetime, Bantam Books repackaged and republished the books, at first in single-volume editions, later doubling up to maximize profitability (which couldn’t have been very great to start with), but unfortunately losing in the process the truly ludicrous, somewhat lurid cover art, many of which The Barrister and I collected over the years (and which I’ve imported to Australia, where Doc is a complete unknown, despite the execrable Ron Ely high-camp movie - where will I ever get Up from Earth’s Center now?). Anyway, it’s great fun to locate this collection of covers from the original books. (There’s also a fan site and a pulp resources site, whatever that means.) What a shame, though, to miss the pulp art exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum.

Foreign Entanglements
When the CIA fact book says a government is “parliamentary democracy tending toward anarchy,” they’re not referring to the kind of non-system advocated by the anti-globalists, but rather the kind often seen in African nations, Liberia notably, i.e., every man for himself, especially if he’s got a gun. The conditions in the Solomon Islands are such that Australia and New Zealand are now preparing to provide peace-keeping troops, but not until the government there passes legislation to authorize the formal request for assistance. This is the kind of situation that has put and kept Marines in Haiti and NATO in the Balkans, and it is the kind of action that constitutes taking responsibility for improving the world as if superpower nations aren’t required. Similarly, Japan is freezing financial aid to Myanmar until they release Aung San Suu Kyi. Most aid dried up in 1988, when they first put her under arrest, so it’s not clear how this will help. Now, if China would step up to work on North Korea, and if the Middle East would grow up, and if the UN would intervene just about everywhere in Africa. . . .

Costs
Sure, now they want to cut the Stamp Duty. Of course, the GST (Goods and Services Tax) imposed more than two years ago was supposed to eliminate stamp duty, but that’s different, isn’t it?

Sorry
We used to hear in college that displaying the Canadian Maple Leaf would fool Europeans into being nice to us, but apparently the position of Americans abroad has gotten more extreme. I think the French sounds classy.

Stars
Nothing beats a fortune-telling parrot. Even if I have no idea which star-sign I’m supposed to pick. (Via Frogs & Ravens, which also has a nice haiku about squirrels.)

Meta
BlogStreet has a few nice little tools for making ‘bloggers feel like they’re part of a community, instead of just the latest version of homepagers.

Meg Hourihan, world-famous ‘blogger, provided a link to a nice-looking Flash™ app (only US$5 for non-commercial use) that strikes me as a fun thing to have on a ‘blog. If one is travelling more than I’m doing.

And speaking of Megnut, she pointed me to the latest example of big media’s interest in ‘blogs, which doesn’t really offer a lot of advice on increasing traffic, but is still kinda interesting. The Sydney Morning Herald has also recently cottened on to ‘blogging, so it may yet become more of a phenomenon here than it has apparently been so far.

Middle-Child Syndrome
That’s all that can explain:

“You're the United Nations! Most people think you're ineffective, but you are trying to completely save the world from itself, so there's always going to be a long way to go. You're always the one trying to get friends to talk to each other, enemies to talk to each other, anyone who can to just talk instead of beating each other about the head and torso. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, and you get very schizophrenic as a result. But your heart is in the right place, and sometimes also in New York.” Country
Quiz results, from Blue Pyramid.

Downtime
Enforced non-blogging status, as Blogger upgrades their users to a new version. An email would have been nice, but I’m getting it free, so I won’t complain. The new interface is very pretty.

CityStats
The Skyscraper Page is a nice little project, offering pictures and statistics on buildings of cities around the world, Sydney among them. Like the Skyscraper Museum, the site services the urban fascination with building tall. (Via Gawker.)

The Nuclear Winter of Our Discontent
Andrew Denton is something like the Dick Cavett of Australia: bright, witty, and gets good interviews on television. Last night on the ABC, he interviewed Dr. Helen Caldicott, a renowned anti-nuke activist. Dr. Caldicott is a pediatrician, and her activism stems from her medical practice. I haven’t previously heard any of what she’s got to say, but her intelligence was evident last night, and although she is obviously a very compassionate person, she doesn’t much suffer fools. Her account of meeting with Ronald Reagan was priceless, recounting that his foreign policy was derived from the Reader’s Digest and describing him otherwise as a “nice old man.” Nuclear war is an unimaginable event for most people, so vast and devastating that we often fail to grasp just how terrible it would be, despite the accounts available from Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and the atomic testing we spent 30 years thereafter on. Dr. Caldicott’s analysis of the current situation is worth keeping in mind. After the Cold War, the world thought it was safe, but we are as close to disaster as ever. We must not allow the Bush government to produce more weapons, let alone a policy that would encourage their use, but this is the path the U.S. is presently undertaking. It’s too easy for us to let the news accounts fall into the pile of “it’s just the Pentagon’s war games, not an active plan,” when in fact it is a plan and Bush wants to fight and win a nuclear war. Why else build a useless missile shield? We also need to encourage and support the Russians in accounting for and locking away or destroying the radioactive materials in their country, as the accessibility by terrorists is a very serious concern.

Denton also interviewed the Wiggles, which was a great relief.

Albert Schweitzer
"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.”

Le Royale, avec Frommage Bleu
What is it about globalization that leads to overreaction? I suppose, given M. Bove’s level of support, the police might have had an expectation of resistance, possibly involving a number of supporters, but he’d said he wouldn’t resist, so why 80 men? I guess the dog was there because the cops had one and wanted to get the use of him, but it reminds me of a scene in one of the Martin Beck stories, although in that one, at least there was the satisfaction of the dog biting the police commissioner. Good luck this Bastille Day, M. Bove.

Libraries On-Line
Sometimes, Flash™ animation isn’t just clever animation. Sometimes, there’s an tool in there, as there is in Whichbook, an on-line resource for selecting books according to up to four “mood” criteria, or plot, character, or setting combinations. This may be worth exploring to see the depth and breadth of the recommendations.

Legion of Doom
If you had to be a supervillain, what name would you use? The Barrister, who can project rays of elucidation or obfuscation, depending on his mood. Dragonfly is already is use, probably by more than one villain, but the insect is also called a Darning Needle, and that kind of works for another in that particular household. This diabolical pair have kids, too, and I suppose names for them must be employed as well, but I don’t know if I dare: it might get back to them. As per the Barrister’s comments previous, avoiding nomenclature based on physical characteristics is important, except, perhaps, insofar as it is descriptive also of behavior, but I’m going to leave off to apply more thought to the process before I get in too deep.