Liar, Liar
I don’t know if I entirely believe Mamdouh Habib. I watched his interview on 60 Minutes last night, and it wasn't particularly instructive, either in his responses, non-responses, or manner. There’s his undefined and unexplained relationship with local extremists and his support of the “blind cleric” who tried to blow up the WTC in 1993 (the guy Lynne Stewart's just been convicted for aiding; he kinda looked like an evil Santa), and the allegations that he went to Afghanistan in the days preceding September 11 make his arrest in Pakistan in October 2001 more troubling than arrests under that corrupt regime would be otherwise. He’s been called the worst of the worst, but he’s been released. He’s been accused of training terrorists, including the September 11 murderers, and of aiding al Qaeda. But he’s been released. He was tortured, he says, and confessed – under duress, he says – to acts that should have earned him a longer stay in Guantanamo, or at least a military tribunal like David Hicks is getting. But instead he’s been released. And to be honest, the Bush administration’s record on terrorism suggests Mr. Habib is due more than a little benefit of the doubt. What happened to the hundreds, the thousands arrested under John Ashcroft’s orders? No charges, no trials, nothing. What’s been happening to the others released so far from Guantanamo to Britain, France, etc.? No charges, no trials, nothing. Except Habib’s been back a scant couple of weeks and his home’s been broken into twice already. Tell me that’s vandalism, or burglary. We’ve known the U.S. was “extraditing” “persons of interest” to countries we know routinely use torture, so Habib’s claims are not implausible; all too plausible, in fact. If Habib gets his day in court, as he’s asking for, we may get the explanations we need, but meanwhile, I’m more suspicious of the government, here and in the U.S., than I am of him.

The Internet as Art Collective
There are many examples of internet projects collecting art locally, regionally, or globally, some deliberate and some more accidental (Flickr functions this way, or at least can be used to the same effect). But I think I’m going to have to keep my eye out to help develop Art in Cities (a Metafilter item), a compendium of graffiti-based art projects. It’s not all just tagging, and some of it’s really very good. Stencils and trompe d’oeil “enhancements” make up a large part, along with laser-print stickers and the more traditional wild-style wall projects. There’s only one example posted for Sydney, whereas Melbourne seems to have been hard at work collecting samples (which makes me wonder if everyone here isn’t spending all their time at the beach), so I’ll have to keep my eyes open and my camera at hand.

In Other News
No longer an NYC resident, I have to rely on others for my Gates appreciation. Luckily, there’s the unofficial Gates ‘blog, a photographic compendium at Walk NYC and this Dutch site to keep me happy, as well as the official site of Christo and Jeanne-Claude, of course.

Healthcare
When I was working in the States, I always had employer-sponsored health insurance. It was pretty basic for the most part, until the HMO’s and paid-providers and so forth came into vogue, and I never made extensive use of it, luckily enough. The system worked well enough, and I didn’t give much thought to any other possible scheme. Now I’m in a country with socialized medicine, and even though the Liberal government is hacking away at it, it’s not likely to disappear entirely any time too soon. I wonder sometimes if by purchasing private cover – hospital and extras, as it’s known, at least for the level I’ve bought – I’m helping dismantle Medicare. When I had my appendix out, I was asked if I wanted to be admitted under my private cover or under Medicare. What’s the difference, I asked? The only substantive difference was I could choose my own doctor. Oh, and I’d get hit by my plan’s deductible, basically putting me out-of-pocket for a not-inconsiderable sum. I went in under Medicare, of course. (So why have both? Because I get a tax break on my premiums and on any medical expenses submitted to Medicare or my plan that are not reimbursed or the difference thereon. I really ought to look at whether I’m really getting anything or just fooling myself.) It works well enough, especially if I go to medical providers who bulk-bill to Medicare or accept my private cover, and it’s nearly as invisible to me as my employer-provided group insurance was in the U.S.

Back home, medical coverage may get a bit more sticky, as the government attempts to eliminate employer-provided coverage plans and replace them with self-funded pre-tax health accounts. Now when I did have this kind of coverage, I also had the option to open what’s called a Flexible Spending Account, which was basically up to $5,000 annually taken from my pay on a pre-tax basis and that could be used to pay for things my medical coverage didn’t cover, including the deductible and any out-of-pocket co-pays, etc. It was use-it-or-lose-it, but if I was cautious, I never ended up with money in my FSA I didn’t need. Lots of people had them, and lots of people ended up using them to pay for a new pair of glasses they didn’t otherwise need at the end of the year, but we all stayed healthy and stylish as a result. Under the new Bush “ownership society” you’ll get to pay for everything out of this money, although that will mean having to deduct more from each paycheck than can be accounted for even among the least generous employer schemes. That’s because you’re not going to get the group rate, and there will be no subsidy towards the premium by your employer.

Sometimes I wonder if when George talks about an “ownership society” he doesn’t mean slavery.

’blog Business
I think it might be interesting, and it even might be fun, to go to Blogtalk Downunder (and I’m still considering if there oughtn’t to be a paper presented on language), but even at the reasonable price of $AU175, it’s too pricey for my present circumstances. It might be my only opportunity to attend the Cruisting Yacht Club, which is the outfit that runs the Sydney-to-Hobart race each year, but I’m not such a boaty person anyway. Who’s going?

Obligatory Simpsons Reference
"Mr. Burns, your campaign seems to have the momentum of a runaway freight train. Why are you so popular?"

(Does Bush really need to pay people to say nice things about him? We elected this man?)

American Platypus
As much as I've been enjoying "Overcompensating," I had to click into see "Magical Adventures in Space," which looked amusing, but never so funny as when I went back to the beginning and found page after page of "American Platypus," an adventure series narrated by Goth Dachshund, and apparently a television program watched by Sheriff Pony - o.k., look, it's complicated. But much easier than figuring out how to rob an armoured submarine full of beans.

References
I've no clear idea how I ended up on Maurinsky's reading list, but I'm guessing it's my opposition to AG Gonzales. I've only ever spent any appreciable time in Connecticut as was required for a brief project in Danbury, and that's close enough to NY as not to count as a different state. Meanwhile, while she's keeping everyone up-to-date on "monkey" (no, not that one), I'm falling behind on my duties, spending so much time on political stuff that the Google ads are all for the GOP. You'd think there'd be a setting: no advertising for stuff I don't approve of. Well, if Rolling Stone accepts ads for Bibles, I guess I'm stuck. It's not like anyone's using any of those links anyway.

(That was random, wasn't it?)

Post-Politics
Just to keep up on my responsibility as a weblogger, and for a little relief from the anti-Bush tirades, here’s a pretty picture of the kitty.

(Well, it is a Australian-blog “tradition.”)

Endorsing Torture
Splitting along party lines, with 5 Democrats abandoning their principles to join the party in power, the Senate has confirmed Alberto Gonzales as Attorney General. It’s been said that any vote in opposition above 30 would be considered a moral victory, but there is no victory of morals here in the end, despite the 36-60 result. The Republican Senators should be ashamed, but Joseph Lieberman, Ken Salazar, Ben Nelson, Mary Landrieu, and Bill Nelson should resign. They are fools and apologists for the use of torture, making them criminally complicit in every evil action taken before or since those memos were written. (And Max Baucus and Kent Conrad ought to have a good reason for not being present for the vote.)

The State of the Union address by the President is a showpiece of upcoming policy actions each year, and an opportunity for the incumbent to employ rhetorical skills in a convincing fashion, drawing the public to his side. Unlike in the debates, George W. Bush has herein a chance to show how adept he can be. He isn’t. Much of what he said in this year’s speech is easily parsed for its true meaning. These aren’t “spin”; or even “misdirection” or half-truths: they’re lies; name his statements for what they are. George Bush has now outlined his intentions, and they are rife with the promotion of greed and selfishness as the ruling order of the nation. He has made clear his intentions and his methods for the next four years, and we’re in for a hell of a fight to preserve liberty and opportunity for all.

Read it yourself, but watch for the following “slights of hand”:

He speaks of the “votes of the people we serve”, as opposed to those who voted in opposition whom we do not serve. Nitpicking? I think this is precisely what he means, so, no, it’s an important point.

He speaks of “frivolous asbestos claims” – why? Because God forbid anyone be compensated for what’s happened to their lungs as a result of manufacturing and building companies who knew the dangers and did nothing to protect their employees, even deliberately misleading them into actions that would be harmful?

“Improved information technology to prevent medical error and needless costs” is a national database, another ID, like your social security number, and somebody to maintain the information who might want to sell it or use it inappropriately, like by denying a claim, among other things. “Medical liability reform” is code for reducing by legislation the compensation you can receive through a lawsuit for malpractice, and potentially even your ability to initiate such a suit.

As for the “affordable, environmentally responsible energy,” coal isn’t “clean,” although it is affordable (especially since strip-mining is so efficient as it tear apart the land and lays it waste) so he must be using these terms exclusive of one another, despite the fact that putting them together makes it sound as if he means them to be inclusive.

I’ve got nothing against tax reform, but when he says “institutions that were created to meet the needs of an earlier time,” he isn’t just talking about income tax itself; he’s leading on to Social Security, and those needs are as current as they were when the program was created. Wait for it; he’ll get there soon.

“Guest workers” taking “jobs Americans will not take”? What, dangerous jobs? Filthy, difficult, nasty jobs? Well, some people won’t and some people can’t. But those Mexicans will, won’t they? They’ll fix up your lawn real good.

And here’s Social Security: “was” a great “moral reform”? “Was”? Still is, buddy. And it isn’t headed towards “bankruptcy” at all. That’s a fiction. And life expectancy in 1930 wasn’t so significantly different from what it is today – that’s not what’s at issue. Benefits were lower, but the money going into the system now is proportionately greater. Pretending otherwise doesn’t change the facts. The figures and dates presented are equally fictional. “Voluntary personal retirement accounts” are called IRA’s, KEOGH’s, and 401(k)’s. When you say that in the context of Social Security, you’re talking about PRIVATIZATION – don’t hide behind inane euphemisms. Say it loud, say it proud: say it honestly. It’s putting tax dollars into the hands of stock brokers and investment bankers, and it’s a bad, bad idea, in the long term and the short term. You think that’s going to last 75 years or more? Secure my children’s and grandchildren’s futures? You’re deluded by your trust-fund upbringing. The money doesn’t grow at the rate you claim, especially not in a “conservative mix of bonds and stock funds,” it grows at less than the rate of inflation, forever, or for as long as it lasts, whichever comes first. And not all of it is really yours, so you end up with 3%, maybe. Worthless.

A constitutional amendment on marriage is pointless, enshrining in a secular document religious principles best left to religions. Banning stem-cell research won’t reduce abortions, but it might unlock treatments for an array of disorders that would be a benefit to all mankind.

As for the “decline” in the number of “governments that sponsor and harbor terrorists,” that reduction is one, but while Iraq’s government no longer cooperates at any level with terrorists, the country is rife with them as a result of the Bush Administration’s actions there. Thanks for that.

“Providing our servicemen and women with the resources they needed” in Iraq, if anyone remembers, has been after the fact, rather than before deployment, and Bush should, indeed, thank Congress, since he did nothing himself to that end until it was already a problem.

“The United States has no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else,” but you don’t see us going into Nepal or Burma or Saudi Arabia or the United Arab Emirates or Morocco or Jordan or many, many other nations presently absent of democracy, where citizens are subject to secret arrests, star chambers, trial without representation, torture, “disappearing,” and where terrorism is being fostered from such oppression. No, we go into Iraq, where no WMD existed, where no army had the strength to oppose us, where we thought we could get away with “imposing” ourselves. Afghanistan wasn’t enough: Bush had to prove himself over his father. And while advances towards a free democratic society in Afghanistan and now in Iraq can be claimed by Bush, he has no claims among the Palestinians or in Ukraine.

And when did we start “working with European allies” on Iran’s nuclear ambitions? It seems to me that the Europeans have been working with Iran, and we were complaining about it. Is this part of “working with allies and friends,” or are the European nations no longer counted in those groups?

Finally, it’s a little annoying, especially when he has only minutes previously spoken of his intention to decimate Social Security, to hear George Bush invoke Franklin Roosevelt, and then do so out of context, recasting the meaning. Isn’t there some greedy, selfish politician from his own party he can quote? Oh, no, of course not; I forgot the “greedy” and “selfish” bits.

Neo Home Pagination
Remember when the internet was new and everybody got onto their Amigas and put up “home pages”? Pictures of the kids and the cats, what I did on my summer vacation narratives, updated on a descending scale of frequency from daily to weekly to monthly to every now and then to once a year to never this is just too much bother and nobody’s following it anyway I might as well just send out one of those photocopied family letters at Christmas summarizing what happened (usually post-divorce or some other such disaster). Whew. Thank goodness that’s over. Except for ‘blogs. (Which I’m the only one spelling correctly, pedant that I am.)

The media has a love-hate relationship with weblogs (see, “’blog” is an abbreviation; it needs an apostrophe, just like ‘net. Web, on the other hand is a shorthand derivative, so no punctuation is required), most recently and egregiously exhibited in the NY Times “Mommie (and Me)” article, in which they hurl soft-boiled eggs and porridge from their high chairs while dissecting a niche in the weblogging world.

Why bother? This “phenomenon” is old news. The technology has certainly improved, and there’s even money in it (for some; nobody clicks any paid links on my weblog), but the overall content isn’t so spectacularly different from what went before. There are some who make an effort, and others who don’t, and yet still others who wouldn’t know the difference, but from Live Journal to Blogger to Moveable Type, there are still inane quizzes, pretty kitty pictures, and updates on summer holidays at the beach, lake, mountains . . . wherever. I concede that these software improvements have made “home paging” more of a worthwhile activity, and I visit various other journaling sites frequently, whether they’re those of friends, family, or pure strangers whose thoughts or writing or humor I enjoy (or am infuriated by for that matter).

So why does the “old media” get their knickers twisted over weblogs? Because they get called “old,” I guess. Those trying to pursue using weblogs for serious purposes got up the noses of more traditional media outlets over the last four years or so, and the newspapers and cable news channels are fighting back. It’s silly, though, and only shows a lack of perspective, if not perception. It’s fun, it can be informative, and it can even foster a sense of community or at least of conversation among individuals rather increasingly lacking opportunities to connect with anyone outside their workplace or immediate family.

Meanwhile, Rana and Jill and ”Wolf Angel” have been having some fun coming up with Timesian descriptions for their own weblogs. I ought to get Rana to do one for me, too, but by this time she ought to be charging for the service.

“(Southern Cross) Words” purports to be an exploration of cultural differences and similarities between Australia and the United States, but shows an utter lack of perspective in its political leanings, while failing to provide cat-based content at the level of better web logs [sic]. Desperate for attention, its author has even resorted to selling out to Google, placing advertisements for products no one is interested in along with the traditional sidebar content. Note: Nick Cave is not personally for sale on eBay.”

Wet
I’d thought spring was the rainy season, but summer’s thunderstorms bring some pretty dramatic results now and then. Yesterday’s rain, here in the West at any rate, came in hard and fast, and by the time I left the office, the Parramatta River was nearly up over its banks. It had been running a bit high from the rain the night before, but this was a substantial increase. The sun was out again by 5 p.m., and the rain was headed for the harbour and the ocean thereafter; I understand the catchments took in 3 inches.

Because the World Needs More Nukes
Donald Rumsfeld’s gotta have them “bunker busters” if he’s gonna get them mullahs outta Iran, or how else can we get the Shah back in office? Bush has been looking for some new way to use atomic weapons, and eliminating Tehran’s uranium enrichment program before it gets too far along is the opportunity he’s been waiting for. Well, actually, Iraq’s WMD program was the opportunity he was waiting for, but the hue and cry over developing new nukes for actual use in the Middle East was enough to quiet things down for a little while. But that was before it turned out that Hussein’s WMD program didn’t exist. Iran’s does, albeit in an indeterminate state presently. There are those among the internet punditry who believe the use of nuclear weapons against theocratic Arab despots is appropriate, even desirable. There are, as always, some who have already been calling for a direct strike with an atomic warhead; none of this namby-pamby specialized, targeted usage: hit Mecca now, they say. This is Cold War thinking. So is the White House’s drive for new nukes, but that’s what comes from stocking your pool of advisors with old Cold Warriors and theorists. Is it any coincidence, do you think, that Rumsfeld is Secretary of Defense and Rice was National Security Advisor, now Secretary of State? The old hatreds, right along with the old mind-sets, are still at work, just applied to new targets. But, like George W. Bush himself is fond of saying, we need to use post-September 11 thinking now. New strategies for a new world. I have to agree; it’s just a shame the Bush administration doesn’t practice what it preaches. It will be worse if they ever use these things.

Keeping Up
I've got to get out more, or something. For example, while we were at the Opera House Sunday, did I have my camera? No, of course not; which is only too bad because the NYE disco ball is still hanging off the Harbour Bridge. Why is that important, you ask, especially if you didn't think it was worth the effort in the first place? Well, it's huge, for one thing, much bigger than I expected, and the light show was still on. It also wasn't hung where I'd pictured it, but directly in front of the bridge, rather than under it (where it would have blocked shipping) or between the arches (where it would have been less visible). It would be nice if they could come up with someplace to hang it permanently, I think, but it's so big, I have trouble imagining where.

Meanwhile, I did bring my camera on a recent trip through Martin Place, which has a nice fountain, nicer than some of the ones out here in Parramatta, anyway.

Came So Far, But No Further
Last night was M.’s first inside the concert hall of the Sydney Opera House (my second time; the first having been to see Laurie Anderson – of all performers – two years ago), where we saw the Sydney Festival’s “Came So Far For Beauty,” an all-star tribute concert to Leonard Cohen, featuring Nick Cave; Beth Orton; Rufus Wainwright; Rufus’s mom and auntie, Kate & Anna McGarrigle (and his sister, Martha); Linda Thompson and her son, Teddy; Jarvis Cocker (son of Joe); and others, none of whom I recognized, even when I could hear their names announced or see in the program I’d read over the shoulders of people in the rows ahead. It doesn’t matter much, because I wasn’t particularly impressed, so won’t be going out to buy any of their albums any time soon.

The Opera House is probably just a bad venue for amplified music, but the sound was terrible. I don’t know if the technician they had on the board was a hack or doing the best he could with bad acoustics, but the band was mixed well over the vocals and the backup singers (often Martha Wainwright by herself or with Julie Christiansen and Pearl Batalla) mixed as if they were singing the lead. Martha Wainwright has to be among the most annoying singers of all, not just for her Joe-Cockeresque writhing and stamping, but for her abuse of her own range, spending so much time at the top her singing was coming out of her nose. When she toned things down she wasn’t half bad, but did that only rarely, much to the detriment of anyone she accompanied, including her mother & auntie. I’ve long liked the McGarrigles, but you couldn’t hear much from them all night.

Linda Thompson has lost her voice, if this concert was any indication; Beth Orton was lost in the mix for the most part; Rufus Wainwright gets a nice blues mumble going but too loud, overwhelming the melodies; does anybody here know the Handsome Family (or care?) Teddy Thompson, however, was very good whenever he came out on stage, but wasn’t given much to do. Jarvis Cocker was also good (but who was the guy whose contortionist routine looked like Jarvis’s dad?), and Nick Cave sang well, too (although I’m still convinced he was reading “Suzanne”), but spent most of his time on stage dancing around singing with his back to the audience – did the band pay for their seats, too?

After 3 ½ hours – on a school night – it was all more than we could take. Hal Wilner’s staging, which allowed the musicians to come and go without any discernable pattern and in configurations that didn’t always work well together, produced a messy concert experience, draining the songs of the pleasure they normally impart. I would have preferred, in the end, to have each act come out, perform a few songs, and leave the stage for the next singer, and with no large ensemble numbers.

Baghdad Ballots
Despite mortar attacks and at least 36 dead, Iraq has reportedly achieved a 57% voter turnout in yesterday’s elections, and many among them are hopeful of a resolution to their present situation. Me, too, whomever gets elected. (I wonder if finger-ink would help towards a smoother process in the States?)

Editorial Policy
In the previous post you might notice that I've linked to Barnes & Noble's on-line listing for A Confederacy of Dunces rather than Amazon's, which would once have been more the norm, and is often the site to appear at the top of a Google search. That's because Amazon's 41% red, and I try to buy blue. (B&N isn't on their list, but I recall seeing them elsewhere as being substantially blue. Can't find the link, but if it turns up, I'll post it.)

How I Spent My Summer Vacation
Actually, only Australia Day, but it still counts. M. & I went up to see Sideways, and you know any movie that can successfully reference A Confederacy of Dunces is o.k. by me. O.k., sure, yes, there was more to it. It's very character-driven and very much a writerly movie, which latter I guess makes sense, given that it's an adaptation of a novel. The characters were people I could see in my own life, not least because I have friends like Jack and often feel like Miles in dealing with them. Mostly, though, I just enjoyed the dialog and the humor. It should probably get at least one award, most likely adapted screenplay, but Thomas Hayden Church is a deserving candidate for supporting actor, too.

Study Them, Learn Them, Live Them
Australians all let us rejoice,
For we are young and free;
We've golden soil and wealth for toil,
Our home is girt by sea;
Our land abounds in Nature's gifts
Of beauty rich and rare;
In history's page, let every stage
Advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing,
"Advance Australia fair!"

When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd,
To trace wide oceans o'er,
True British courage bore him on,
Till he landed on our shore.
Then here he raised Old England's flag,
The standard of the brave;
With all her faults we love her still,
"Brittannia rules the wave!"
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"

Beneath our radiant southern Cross,
We'll toil with hearts and hands;
To make this Commonwealth of ours
Renowned of all the lands;
For those who've come across the seas
We've boundless plains to share;
With courage let us all combine
To advance Australia fair.
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"

While other nations of the globe
Behold us from afar,
We'll rise to high renown and shine
Like our glorious southern star;
From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,
Who come our lot to share,
Let all combine with heart and hand
To advance Australia fair!
In joyful strains then let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,
Or dare a foot to land,
We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore
To guard our native strand;
Brittannia then shall surely know,
Beyond wide ocean's roll,
Her sons in fair Australia's land
Still keep a British soul.
In joyful strains the let us sing
"Advance Australia fair!"

Does anyone ever sing the whole thing at national events and so forth? What do all the Italians and Greeks think of the Brittania stuff? Nevermind. Happy Australia Day. Now, let's watch the cricket.

Local Weather Update

Last night a series of thundershowers rolled through, drenching the city periodically from about 6 p.m. late into the night. There were high winds and some power lines down. Summer in the sub-tropics.

Self-Referential Medium
‘Blogging’s fun. No, I mean it; I really enjoy this – the technical stuff not so much, maybe, but writing every day, trying to be clever, to be up-to-date, to release information into the wild for others to enjoy, to keep up with friends and family. But it is really only about me, in the end, regardless of the subject of any one post or set, and that’s largely true of most other ‘blogs. So I don’t think I’ll be attending Blog Talk Downunder, particularly as the topics to be presented in the papers they’re calling for don’t have much appeal. Perhaps that’s unimaginative. I do this from the office enough that I ought to be considering ways of doing it for a living, right? The hotel they’re booking for visitors, however, is just around the corner, so I’ll have to keep an eye out for social events to hobnob with my brother and sister ‘bloggers. Maybe I’ll do a education-themed paper on the use of apostrophes in weblogs.

But, Mom . . .
Make your bed, make your bed. . . . Morning after morning, and now? A good reason to leave the bed unmade. Dust mites are an allergen and have been linked to asthma. Improve your health by being a slob. Excellent. (And if this works, eternal thanks to Dan Lyke.)

New Local Celebrity
Getting a bit of radio air time around the country, "Dream on Black Girl" is a new 'blog on the Australian scene, authored by a young Aboriginal woman in Sydney. I'm checking in periodically, and getting an earful, and recommend others do the same.

Weimar on Walsh Bay
Last night was supposed to be dinner with friends, but out of nowhere, two free tickets to the Sydney Festival’s production of The Black Rider turned up. At first it appeared they’d go begging, as one after another combination of us in attendance was proposed to take the seats, all of us more intent on a leisurely meal after our working day than on three hours in the theatre, despite the production’s reputation, one with which I have a bit of a history. Some years back, The Black Rider was the big draw at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Next Wave festival. Although no big names were actually performing, unlike the Sydney event’s early promise of Marianne Faithful, who withdrew due to illness well before the start, I was keen to go. Prevented, by one thing or another, I convinced a friend to take my ticket. She hated it, wouldn’t talk about it, and pretty much never spoke to me again. It must have been terrific, was all I could figure. So, it seems that once again, I had to come to Australia for fate to catch up with me, because after some negotiations over the phone, I ended up in a splendid orchestra seat.

The music, by Tom Waits, I’ve heard on CD, and although it was played well and sung with verve, I do think I prefer still that canned version overall. Still, we are talking about Robert Wilson at the acme of his German abstract expressionist fascination, so the combination of that with the Waits songs and libretto by William S. Burroughs, is a big draw, and in the end quite a successful theatrical collaboration. Wilson’s work isn’t going to show up on Broadway any time soon, but wouldn’t be entirely out of place. I wonder, however, what audience he has in mind with these productions, which, in this case, and in his collaboration with Lou Reed, The Raven, look like a melding of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Cabaret, and very Weimar in sensibility overall. Do younger audience members get the references, or do they think it’s all very new and hip? For those of us over, say, 30, we’re perhaps too familiar with the content, whether the look or even so far as the content itself, in this instance drawn from a German folktale.

I enjoyed it; I’m glad I finally got to see it; Marianne Faithful would have been terrific in the role of the Devil, so I’m sorry she got sick; and despite a later night than I’d been prepared for, it was a terrific night overall.

Trust Me
Mark Fiore’s internet filmstrip, “The Office of Truth Enhancement,” tells you everything you need to now about how the Bush Administration is ruining the government. I mean “running,” running the government. Now that that consummate liar, Condoleezza Rice, has been confirmed in committee, you can see how well it’s working.

Takeover Fallout
Oracle’s announced 5,000-employee layoff, reduced from an originally projected 6,000, will most probably reach that higher figure sooner rather than later; it’s how layoffs happen. That the PeopleSoft customers gobbled up in the takeover haven’t defected en masse as yet is neither a surprise nor a positive indication of future trends, despite Oracle’s historical customer loyalty. It’s a bit soon to abandon multi-million dollar investments and on-going projects, especially when the alternatives aren’t yet entirely clear. I’m still surprised the court overturned the DOJ’s antitrust suit, based as it was on the objections of PeopleSoft customers, among whom were both state and federal agencies in addition to private and public companies, but it’s done now, and the results are only beginning to be seen.

Hateful Propaganda & Dangerous Myths
George II’s next Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, has promised to restore the image of the United States where it has been damaged by “hateful propaganda and dangerous myths,” but she is one of the primary architects of precisely such propaganda and myths that have put America in the position it now faces, one where allies are more inclined to be former allies, where the unaligned feel more inclined to find their alliances elsewhere, and where the threats and insecurities of the present have increased rather than decreased. Only Barbara Boxer - again - has stood her ground in the face of Bush’s walking death’s-head, and I’d have loved to hear sharper retorts to Rice’s complaints of how her reputation is being impugned. Her reputation? It isn’t that she lied or is dishonest, except intellectually, it’s that the extremists in the White House and their supporters have relied on race and gender to promote a dangerously unqualified individual into a position of such significance as National Security Advisor and are doing it again by trying to make her Secretary of State, repeating the pattern that put that neo-con lapdog, Clarence Thomas, on the Supreme Court. Too often I hear conservatives criticize liberals for their “racism” when concerns are voiced over Dr. Rice or Justice Thomas, and it burns me up. These too are excellent examples of individuals promoted to the level of their incompetence – and beyond. They are qualified, up to a point, but that shouldn’t have resulted in their elevation to where they are today. The only hope is that Secretary of State should prove as uninfluential a position under Rice as it has been under Powell, because that’s the only way it would be worthwhile to allow her into the job.

Point of Order
Parliamentary politics is not a system I’m particularly familiar with, so although I’m not surprised that Mark Latham is stepping down as the leader of the Labor Party (and from his position as Member for Werriwa), I have been fascinated to watch the drama unfold since last year’s election. Latham had been touted as the brash, young up-and-comer Labor needed to repair the party’s dismal prospects under Simon Crean’s leadership, particularly because Kim Beazley had failed twice to take the role from Crean. And why not? For all the beat up over beat up cab drivers years ago and what a appeared to be conflated arguments over the Liverpool council’s condition, he seemed to have the energy Crean could no longer muster, the willingness to try on new ideas and push them hard, and – most importantly – the backing of his party, a new-found solidarity mustering behind him. Then came the campaign, and the brashness was gone, replaced by the newly statesman-like Latham; and while the ideas weren’t gone, they weren’t being pushed. No argument was forthcoming, either for Labor’s policies or against Howard’s. Instead, all we heard about were the requisite position papers and documentary filings available on the website. And the party support didn’t seem to materialize either. Once Howard had gotten his re-election, Labor began to disintegrate. Various members of the party started coming forward to voice their dissatisfaction with the results, laying the problem out as entirely Latham’s fault, back-biting and back-stabbing even among the front-benchers. The press was not behind in ensuring a very public debate over Latham’s continued leadership, although they were little more coherent than a pack of hounds with too many scents to follow. By the time the tsunami hit, and Latham’s office didn’t put out a press release, the writing was on the wall. It didn’t matter that the man was ill, suffering the debilitating pain of a second pancreatitis, and there’s some legitimacy in the criticism that his staff could have fronted up for him – and didn’t – the press and the party were now out for someone’s head on a block, and Latham was the only candidate. Howard’s “if” regarding Latham’s health made it clear to the nation that Mark was dogging it, a puerile tactic that should haunt the PM (but won’t), further sinking in the flood waters any hope of political recovery. Nevermind that it’s the role of government – hence, Howard – to express Australia’s condolences, Mark Latham failed his last leadership test, and now he’s gone. Kim Beazley may now finally have his chance, unless Kevin Rudd can mount a successful leadership campaign, but Latham’s ill health is now also a metaphor for the condition of the party. While the former MP can now retire into private life and hopefully better health, the party’s got a lot of treatment ahead to repair its prospects. In three years’ time, we’ll see how well they can become.

My Life as Roger Ebert
Project Greenlight has come to Australia, offering a million dollars to produce an original screenplay to aspiring directors. This is a program developed by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon back in the U.S., where at least two movies have been completed so far. Once a winner is selected, the filming begins, and Project Greenlight follows the progress for a documentary series presentation on HBO. The completed film premieres at Sundance.

It took some convincing, but M.'s gone ahead and submitted her feature to the contest, which now requires her to join the ranks of the peer review panel. Everyone who submits must review at least 3 scripts, but you don't have to enter to be a reviewer. To see what her competition is like, and what she's going through herself at this stage, I signed up as a reviewer myself. I've now completed 2 scripts, and have one more to read to complete my commitment. While M.'s reports of what's come her way have been pretty dire, my own experience has been less troubled, at least insofar as the overall content goes. The stories have been cliched, but the biggest problem has been the language. Does no one writing a screenplay understand basic English? The first script read like it had been badly translated from the Japanese, and the next as if it had been written by a year-8 dropout. I'm more convinced than ever that M. will go far.

Shark Net
Sunday morning M. & I took a trip out to the beach nice and early. We were on the sand by about 8:30, maybe 9:00, and in the water not too long after that. After an early pre-departure weather disappointment scare, when a brief shower pattering on the steel awning beneath our windows presaged a postponement, we ventured out all the same, premised on my promise that it would clear off by the time we got there, which it pretty much did. (I could have gotten a few more "p" words in there somehow, maybe by using French: "sur la plage"?) Harbour beaches are, of course, distinctly different from the surf beaches of the Eastern suburbs, there being no surf, first of all, but also because there's often a bit of shade to be had nearby and, in this instance at least, i.e., Nielsen Park, a big ol' shark net. The harbour is, after all, still open water, and there are plenty of fishes in there, including sharks sometimes, although I wouldn't expect any of the big 'uns to turn up, and there hasn't been an attack inside the harbour in a long time. It's still a matter of no little fascination to me. Bondi's got one, although you can't see it (or I haven't anyway), and I suppose there's one at some of the others. By lunchtime we were home again, refreshed and more ready to face the heat of the day with a bit of a nap, but it would be a fine thing to live just a little closer to the water than we presently do, if just to avoid getting up at 6 a.m. for a sojourn on the sand.

No photos this time, because as is more usual with me I forgot the camera. (I'm not put off by the prosecution of the creep at Bondi who was snapping topless sunbathers either, although I don't agree with the restriction implied. It seems unenforceable to me, if only because there's little privacy in public places.)

Guantanamo Abuses
Four more Britons and one of the Australians captured in Afghanistan three years ago are being freed. None of them are going home to charges under laws existing at the time of their detention or having gone into effect since, although Philip Ruddock has stated that Mamdouh Habib will be subject to ongoing scrutiny by ASIO. John Howard has complained to the U.S. about having taken so long, but he did little enough up until now to secure the man’s release, so it’s a bit too little too late, although he’s not going to apologize for his inaction. Meanwhile, David Hicks is still awaiting trial.

I know George II said there’d be covert operations and anti-terror actions we’d never hear an outcome of, but has there been anything worthwhile out of the indefinite detention of anyone in Cuba? I mean except for the Supreme Court deciding the detainees can have access to the U.S. legal system. Has anyone actually been prosecuted, convicted, or has anyone provided substantive information that’s lead us to Osama bin Laden or Mullah Omar? Yet Bush wants to build a permanent detention center there, with the sole purpose of holding prisoners for the rest of their lives; no charges to be brought, no trials, no burden of proof. Lock ‘em up and throw away the key. (A situation Mr. Habib now faces in another sense, as his repatriation becomes a kind of home detention, guilty for the rest of his life.) Except . . . one by one, they’re getting out and going home, often enough it seems as a result of formal allegations of abuse or torture. Is there any give-and-take on Habib’s release, as Amnesty International’s inquiry would suggest? I don’t expect to ever find out.

Bondi
While I was out at the beach this weekend, I thought to bring the camera. Although overcast, it was a fine day, as these images attest.

I especially enjoyed the tarted-up camper van. Very superhero.

Best
In the past, WCA and I would pick up a copy of the Best American Short Stories and Best American Essays year by year, a practice extended to Best American Sports Writing at least once on my part, probably more by WCA, although in later years, as the series extended itself to Mystery Stories, Travel Writing, Spiritual Writing, Recipes . . . it exceeded my interest. Best American Poetry is independent of these others, and I’d be interested in seeing it, although some of the reviews have been less than positive. Before we relocated, M. and I went down to the poetry café on the Lower East Side and read as a farewell to the East Village literary scene, and reading about what’s been included in the 2004 Best, I’m reminded of the experience, as I am when I look at the photo of the six performance poets appearing in the Sydney Festival’s “Slammin’”. Dude, the orange hair doesn’t make you an artist. O.k., that’s unfair. Maybe his poetry is actually good. But I don’t think anyone will ever find out by going to a “Slam.” These performances are an extension of rap into literature, nothing more than playing the dozens, really, although the content is probably a bit more elevated than “yo’ momma” insults. I must be getting old, but I do want more substance from poetry than format, and more content than performance.

World Vision
They’re already a very popular charity here, if the evidence of various coffee bars and such displaying “all tips go to support our sponsored child” signs is anything to go by, and now the Australian public has donated – man, woman, and child – a dollar apiece: AU$20 million to support World Vision’s tsunami relief efforts, and this is on top of the money already raised since the disaster. It doesn’t sound like much when you say “a dollar apiece,” but consider that not all are actually capable of making a donation: children, pensioners, the indigent. For all the instances of pundits quoting Stalin’s cynicism (“one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic”), it appears that we all really can act collectively to the benefit of others.

Weeds, Whites & Land Management
The title here is stolen from an inappropriate Little Feat’s song, “Willin’”, and mismanaged into something approaching the topic of desertification in Australia, as discussed in today’s SMH article by Paul Sheehan, “Continent at risk of dry tsunami.” In it, Sheehan goes on about “weeds” being an efficient part of the land’s own water-management process. Of course, weeds are just plants that aren’t grass, trees, bushes, or edible grain producers, so it’s a bit silly to use the term. Nevertheless, the main point, that land management practices since the arrival of humans, particularly European colonization, but no less the Aborigines 80,000 years ago, have decimated the continent’s ability to support itself. For all those who deride environmentalists, global warming, Michael Crichton’s critics, well, you need to know that there are problems and the idea that industry can be given the option to manage itself in respect to ecological custodial regulations is ludicrous, as is the idea that farming isn’t an industry. There are small-holders (and they’re not doing any better than the corporations for the most part), but there is more and more centralized control over agriculture. Unless corporate profit-taking practices can be curbed and sustainable farming introduced as a requirement for operating in agriculture, government will be at the mercy of business as more demands for more resources need to be met. Imagine what will happen in the coming decades when the topsoil blows away, when the earth has too high a salt content to allow vegetation, when the water demands for farming exceed our ability to supply farms and people in an either/or situation. The question Sheehan’s article ends with, “what if [Peter Andrews] is right [about sustainable farming and salination],” isn’t the end. I’d ask, is Peter Andrews the only one out there actually doing something about the problem? If he is, it’s already too late.

And the Nominees Are . . .
I’ve already emailed Hillary and Chuck, not that I expect either of them to do much about Alberto Gonzales. (I have to use my old NYC address, but that's where I'm registered to vote anyway.) I do think, nevertheless, that now is the time for the Democrats to fight hard - not just on this nomination, but on the whole pack of them, and anything else that comes up - or Bush’s corruption of our nation will continue unabated. Contact your Senator. Write to them, call them, whenever there’s something you want them to think about and act on. The Republicans do it, individually and en masse. We can, too.

Boxed In
He’s still the President, which we all expected, but it’s sort of disappointing that only Barbara Boxer stood up to challenge Republican fraud. No matter what sneering jibes have been issued in response, last year’s election was another example of machine politics at work, something we’d all like to think had passed away with Tammany Hall. And it isn’t enough. A full-scale investigation is required, independent counsel and all, both nationally and in Ohio, where Kenneth Blackwell delivered the vote to Bush, as he’d promised he would. Who’s going to stand up and make the call, when only one Senator out of two hundred (and only 75 were present to certify the Electoral College results, 74-1) had the courage to stand up for the American people? Four years isn’t enough time to fix the problems that allowed the 2004 and 2000 frauds to occur, not if our legislators are going to fiddle while DC burns. Don’t forget, Bush doesn’t have the mandate he and his sycophants claim: 3 million votes isn’t a landslide; it’s 2%.

Conservative Compassion
$13,000 from an estimated $17 million net worth is the sum total of Bush II’s sympathy for the plight of millions in southeast Asia. Admittedly, his annual salary is only $400,000, plus room-and-board for himself and every member of his family living in the White House, so he can’t have much to throw around to help poor people: they might become dependent or something. I know, I know, “the poor you will have with you always,” but if you’re going to make a big show of your charity, you’re missing the point about not letting your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Then again, we knew that when Powell got sent in to talk up how the U.S. is the friend of Muslims everywhere. Does anyone at those White House prayer meetings actually know any Christian philosophy, or do they just make it up to suit themselves? Remember the story of the widow’s mite, then consider what individuals around the globe are doing to help.

In case you’re wondering about governmental aid donations, leaving aside overall aid budgets, The Swanker has a comparative breakdown showing the contributions of Arab nations, the U.S., Britain, and Australia, vis a vis GDP, none of the latter 3 of whom have managed even 1% so far, while the Arabs are managing at least that much. (In the credit where credit’s due column, however, Australia has increased its overall contribution to AU$1 billion, over 5 years, to Indonesia alone.)

Update: to put this in population perspective, follow the Swanker's link to No Right Turn, where per capita rates are entabulated.

Disaster
It's probably appropriate to comment a little on the tsunami right now, what with everyone else having already chimed in (including to make fools of themselves by blaming global warming, George Bush, environmentalists, anti-globalization activists . . . basically taking the opportunity of 150,000 deaths to whet whatever axe they use to produce chips for their shoulders).

It's horrible; awesome, even. As the numbers rolled up and up and the t.v. replayed scenes of the ocean sweeping across beaches, resort areas, villages, I couldn't grasp the magnitude. Too big, too many. At 60,000, I could see Shea Stadium packed full, and had a way to imagine the scale. Three stadiums full. And there'll be more. Like September 11, I've stopped watching the news coverage, unable to endure the endless loops of the disaster footage. The newspapers will be enough to keep up with.

Homes gone. Land gone. The salt water will effect the ability of the land to support vegetation, to regenerate. Businesses devastated; the ability of people to support themselves with whatever small or large industry or enterprise they had used to feed themselves and their families.

But so many millions of dollars are being donated, and not just by governments. In a single night, New Year's Eve, which the networks here turned into fund-raisers, the Australian people donated nearly half a million dollars, and cumulatively since the event contributed nearly $5 a head, man, woman, and child: $50 million. Around the world, the citizenry of other countries are doing the same. Medecins sans Frontieres has had to ask people to stop donating, so much money has been coming in, overwhelming their ability to handle it. And the on-the-ground aid work is ramping up, assisted by troops from America, from Australia, from all around the region. Private citizens are pitching in wherever they can.

Years will go by, and all the heart-warming stories - the infant rescued after days floating on a mattress, the animals in Sri Lanka whose senses sent them to high ground ahead of the flood - these will be lost, and the work will go on.

You know the charities; you know what to do. (Oh, and meanwhile, it's not particularly useful to slag the UN, the only existing body capable of coordinating the relief efforts of so many disparate countries, committees, organizations. It's not like anyone else is offering to actually lead the work needed.)

Underway
Back at work now, which, despite ADSL at home, makes it easier somehow to post entries - bad, I know, stealing time from my employer, but I make it up to them - so it feels like the new year is well and truly started, although that won't really be true until I stop writing "2004" instead of "2005" on checks, letters, memos, et al. We didn't make it to the beach over the holidays break, but we did manage to see The Incredibles, which has got to be one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a long time. Yes, better than the grown-up movies, even, if only because it's so well-rounded. Craig T. Nelson was good, which was a surprise, because I've never liked him, and Holly Hunter was disconcerting at first, but proved excellent. Sarah Vowell, of NPR, did the voice of the daughter. I've never heard her radio show, but she hit all the right whiny notes, showing an excellent feel for the character. And Wallace Shawn should be in every movie, even if it is only a bit part. We also got I, Robot out on DVD, and Hellboy, both of which were very good, each in its own way. Of course, having had this boy-movie festival (while the nephews were over, providing me an excellent excuse), I'm now committed to seeing something more age-group oriented. I'm sure something will turn up eventually that isn't a costume piece or throwback to the Rock Hudson-Doris Day era.

Wrap-Up
Because the office closes and hands out days off at Christmas like they're bon-bons, I've had quite a bit of time at home through tomorrow that I'll have spent on holidaying, including traditional calls to the homeland and hosting overnights by the nephews and other familial obligations undertaken and executed. Now that the New Year is underway, there are yet today and tomorrow for pure relaxation. Naturally, the weather is somewhat uncooperative, so beach time may have to wait a week.

Meanwhile, what a year it's been. No job turned into a new job just in time, appendectomies (well, one, mine, anyway), etc., and so forth. Until the tsunami, the year had looked to finish as peacefully as might be expected with the U.S. occupying Iraq, so it's all the more awe-inspiring to know that nature itself can be so incredibly devastating. So many lives lost, so much destruction, this is likely to be the new Lisbon, surpassing that legendary earthquake's toll for, let's hope, centuries yet to come. With so many yet unconfirmed losses, every day brings new pain for many.

Christmas brought reminders of love from my family, not least a very welcome subscription to The New Yorker, but also, perhaps even better, Dr. Evil, arch-enemy of Captain Action, that most lugubrious of 12-inch action heroes.

He's a hippie, of course, what with the medallion, Nehru-style tunic, and sandals, and we all know how devoted to the cause of badness those 60's-style radicals are. The brains are a nice touch, don't you think?

Yuletide BBQ
Because Australia is an Anglo country, Christmas is traditionally celebrated with all the appurtenances of the northern hemisphere, from reindeer and Santa’s sleigh (sometimes modified as a “rusty Holden ute”) to fir trees bedecked with baubles and tinsel. It looks, to use the vernacular, naf. Sure, red and green are pretty, but the bearded gent in the fur suit is ludicrous in the context of sun and surf, prawns on ice and a coldie. Sure, it got cold back in the Mediterranean Promised Land – a desert country, by-and-large, not unlike here in the antipodes – but the snowy scenes depicted on greeting cards have no more basis in reality than the jolly old elf delivering presents or coal according to a fixed standard of behavior amongst the kiddies. The fairy lights strung up around town twinkle brightly, but we’re in daylight savings mode for the duration, and the sun stays up well past shopping hours, limiting the effect and leaving little enough benefit for anyone left in town. A little cloud-cover this year doesn’t change the situation overall: it’s time to rethink Christmas decorations, not to mention time to stop bagging each other over who’s a better Christian; see previous post. (Travelling along Broadway last night past the Legion of Mary, M. & I spotted their storefront display: a table-top sized nativity scene, with a full-sized Santa kneeling before it amid clouds and clots of cotton snow. Yikes.) Perhaps we can review what Christmas is all about: the promise of redemption, the love of families, peace on earth and goodwill to all, God rest ye merry gentlemen. I couldn’t care less if December 25 was co-opted from pagan winter solstice celebrations; it’s too late now.

The star of Bethlehem makes a nice symbol, and there are certainly plenty of shepherds around so we can leave in the wool, although I don’t recommend wearing it. Angels, sure, if you want ‘em, but Santa’s just silly, as are the Frosty snowmen and other such non-tropical winter representations: scrap ‘em, and head down to Bondi, Manly, Coogee, Maroubra, wherever, and have a open-to-all-comers game of beach volleyball. Everybody can BYO beverages and comestibles, too, and share-and-share alike. Hanukkah is over already, but the festival of lights says a lot about faith and is otherwise seasonal, so let’s have some menorahs and Davidic stars. Tinsel, however, is a hazard. The bright sun reflects off the stuff to sharply, and we’ll all be driving or walking into light poles in broad day, blinded by the glare. Some nice colorful bunting would work just fine. But don’t talk to me about Kwanza – for all the African population around, it’s a made-up-in-America secular event that has no place or purpose here. For M. and I, the day will be spent quietly at home, perhaps a visit out among the rellies in Manly or Lilyfield and the now-traditional calls overseas. We might dress up the cat with a pretty bow.

Tax Bonanza
Revenues to the federal government here have resulted in a AU$6 billion surplus. Already reneging on portions of AU$9 billion in election promises, the Howard government has turned around to hand out AU$11 billion to big business in tax breaks, grants, and tariffs. And the economy? Be warned; oh, and Merry Christmas.

The Expatriate Community
Somebody's going to be in trouble.

Gregory Altreuter -- Internationally Published Poet
Hello. Guest poster M here. Greg recently got in big trouble from a certain member of our American family for not annoucing to the world my recent, humble, achievements. So for fear of risking getting in trouble myself I hereby annouce the publication of one of Greg's poems in a none too shabby bi-annual called Blue Dog, put out by Poetry Australia Foundation. It's an excellent poem called "Grass," and the issue has just hit the bookshelves. We're waiting for a copy in the mail, but I may try to get copies to a select few of his dedicated readers. You know who you are.

Bridges, Tunnels, & Crowds
Remember when the Williamsburg bridge was falling down? No, well, you may not have cared; God knows NYC didn’t show much concern until it really was nearly too late. Now, however, after years and years of work, endless paint scraping, concerns over airborn lead particles, well, it’s still not exactly repaired, but at least they’re working on it. Turns out – as if we didn’t already know it – the subways need work, too. Governments hate spending money, don’t they? There are those who will say it’s because too much is spent on foreign aid or on homelessness programs, and the proper role of government is to build roads, if only those damn lefties would let them, but that’s not really the problem, is it? Be honest, now, because you know the problem is inefficiency and inappropriate priorities. Where is the money really being spent, when, and how? Endless dollars are poured into missile-defense systems that don’t work and studies on how to improve financial management within the various levels of government (let alone studies on what we’re going to do about the trains). Plus, like everywhere else, once the money gets down to the grass-roots levels, there’s also considerable waste and corruption. Why don’t the trains run properly in Sydney? Because the government is spending the money elsewhere, on new highway ring-roads and tunnels, for example. Traffic is miserable, but building more roads doesn’t reduce the problem; it exacerbates it. Why are the subways of NYC in such poor shape? Because when the MTA had the money, they gave themselves bonuses and salary increases instead of putting in the time and effort to upgrade their equipment. (Yes, there are other reasons, important ones, but this isn’t an essay on those details.) Businesses used to run on the principle that when times were flush, you put the excess back into the company, improving capacity so that outside forces would have less effect on performance in the future, instead of spending it on executive stock options and lavish holiday parties. Governments ought to do the same thing (although I hate to use the business=government equation: that’s what got George II into office, and it isn’t true anyway, not in anything other than a metaphorical sense). Who pays for all this? The poor and the middle class, of course. What can we do about it? Well, we don’t have to sit there and take it. We can make our displeasure known, demand the quality we ought to be receiving, and withhold our support wherever we can until we get it. Vote your interests, first of all, not just your fear of interest rates, and then start writing and calling and making yourself heard: public services serve the public. CityRail could have kept the Olympics-level service going; and the MTA could have quieter, more reliable trains running through solid tunnels with up-to-date signalling, switching, and tracking equipment, if we’d been making a point of it before it got to be too late.

Prostitution
Now that I’ve signed up to display Google ads, it’s nice to know they’re legal.

Re-Legitimizing Peace
Mahmoud Abbas’ call to an end to the use of arms is cautiously worded, but a positive impulse towards peace. It remains to be seen whether he can carry the Palestinian Authority into being the political body the citizenry need, or whether Hamas and the other terrorist organizations will continue their hold on the hearts and minds. The PA never spent the time and money under Arafat on the social welfare programs that would have legitimized them, while Hamas et al. were setting up soup kitchens and re-homing the dispossessed concurrently with their recruitment drives and arming of beleaguered, disaffected people. If Abbas can turn this situation around, he’ll prove himself the Palestinian who deserved a Nobel Prize, as his predecessor never did.

It’s Always Mom’s Fault
I wondered how long it would take before the mealy-mouthed Miranda Devine blamed working mothers: 7 paragraphs; and another 7 until she blames feminism. Of course, as a columnist, she doesn’t have to go into the office, so she can be a stay-at-home and a working mother all at once. Very clever.

Zip Janet Albrechtsen’s Job Anywhere But Here
Or zip her lip, anyway. Talk about a “grinch.” Janet Albrechtsen advocates off-shoring jobs because that’s teaching Third World countries to fish, whereas governments supplying foreign aid is just feeding them for a day. Is it hypocritical of me to worry that my job will be moved to Bangalore and I’ll be here on the dole? Not really, not when you consider what foreign aid really buys. Countries with foreign aid budgets spend their money by funding projects and economic reforms in the Third World, not by handing out cash on Calcutta or Nairobi street corners to individual passers-by, and not just in food or humanitarian aid. Her “Struggletown vs. Wealthtown” comparison is fatuous and insulting to everyone, not just simplistic and inaccurate. If she’s serious, she can start with her own damn job.

E=MC2
The Sydney Commuter explains the physics of CityRail: remember, time is relative, so when the display says the next departing train is due in 2 minutes, what they're really saying is: E(lectronic indicator) = M(aybe) C(oming) [in] 2 [minutes]. Never more true than when you're depending on catching a particular train. I figure that CityRail operations are also the proof of string theory, because they operate on a [shoe]string. I crack myself up.

Wrapped in the Flag
The holiday season is so much fun. Fresh from battling chicko-shops over nativity scenes, the reactionary forces of right-wing political correctness are raising a hue and cry over Sydney’s New Year’s Eve celebrations. Plans for the annual sound-and-light display now include a giant disco ball hanging from the Harbour Bridge and a disco remix of the national anthem. Sounds like a party.

It’s amazing to me to have been here for two years now and to have heard consistently throughout that period Australian consternation over American patriotic displays only to now encounter the same behavior. “You Americans,” I’ve been told, “always hanging out your flag”; “the national anthem is played at every sporting event? How strange” “Children recite the Pledge of Allegiance?” Yeah, it’s true, although they don’t have to say “under God” if they don’t want to. Yes, there’s Flag Day. Yes, we sing the anthem, if we know the words, before each baseball-football-basketball-etc. game, off-key, too. Now somebody wants to put a beat on Advance Australia Fair (is there a comma in there somewhere?) and look what happens.

I like Australia’s low-key patriotism. We go a bit over the top in the States sometimes (especially when the Bushes and Reagans start up about Constitutional Amendments to protect the flag). I like Australia’s sense of humor, too; a dry, satirical wit, often enough, when it isn’t boldly scatological. So what’s happened? Where’s all this coming from? Perhaps it’s all just a beat-up from the talk-radio morons. But what a noise.

Most likely, this is all Clover Moore’s fault. Yes, the new Lord Mayor of Sydney – suddenly everyone’s discovered that their distrust of government put in office someone who isn’t going to just give them business-as-usual. She looks different, acts different, so everything she does is wrong. These are the people who put John Howard back into office for his “historic” fourth term, and with Bob Carr under siege, Labor’s days now appear numbered in NSW and the city. Especially if the crowd down at the Opera House don’t Hustle on 31 December.

All Over But the Shouting
Oracle is buying out PeopleSoft for $26.50 per share. I think I missed the part where the “poison pill” kicks in having been eliminated. Oracle is now the biggest of the ERP vendors, and until Microsoft buys out SAP, they also look to be, effectively, the only game in town. SAP is notoriously hard to implement, for all that it’s also supposed to be a superior product to Oracle once it’s in place. Having used neither, I can’t comment beyond the gossip, but I have used PeopleSoft, and it’s a pretty nice relational database product, one likely only to enhance Oracle’s own software line. This does leave me in a bit of a nervous disposition, however, as it bodes for the elimination of one of the key products I’ve hung my professional life on. As much as I’d like to believe the PeopleSoft line will continue, and itself be enhanced by integration with Oracle’s database platform technology, it seems much more likely to be fully subsumed before long. And the army of consultants and developers in Pleasanton, California, and around the world? My marketplace just got a lot more competitive for the next couple of years.

Responsibility and Consumerism
Most businesses making campaign donations do so pretty much equally between Democrats and Republicans. Others are more partisan. Buy Blue can help you direct your consumer impulses into socially-directed purchases. Why buy from a company which will only use the money to promote a social agenda you don’t share? Instead, the Blue Christmas list will help you select retailers and so forth who put their money into the system more in line with your own preferences. Amazon, for example, put 61% of its donations into GOP coffers, while Barnes & Noble gave 98% of theirs to the Democrats. (And Borders went them 2% better, with 100% of their money going to the DNC.) You don’t even have to mount an actual boycott, well, unless you want to fly somewhere not serviced by JetBlue, or can’t gas up at Phoenix Oil & Gas service stations. Nothing’s foolproof.

Weekend Wrap-Up
While M. was away at a seminar learning many new and useful things about this-and-that, I contented myself over the course of Saturday and Sunday with the usual chores and listening to some recordings I haven't put on to play in a longish time, such as London Calling, by the Clash, which album has had its 25th anniversary the other day, and which stands up remarkably well, with only two or three clinkers over the course of [what was once] a double-album. I also put on More Songs About Buildings & Food, the Talking Heads' second album release, which was a lot of fun, too. While Remain in Light was, at the time, a revealatory album, it does not hold up quite so well, being too busy (although Eno's backing vocals are terrific). These lounge activities were accompanied by one more glass of wine than I ought to have had (it's summer, hot, and a cold chardonney is a beautiful thing) and catching up on September issues of the New Yorker, which were depressing due to their heavy Election '04 content, much of which was predictive of the disappointing outcome in November, despite the hopeful notes sounded throughout. The Graham Parker boxed set I got from the counsellor some time back was the most fun; even barefooted, I had my soul shoes on.

Friday Cat Foto

It's a tradition.

Suburban Subterfuge
More housing is needed, and Bob Carr’s got the plan to get it done: with the new land release, new plans for subdivisions to be built according to a “village” centre concept, ensuring that everyone lives within walking distance of a shopping strip. It apparently doesn’t matter that there will be no mass transit infrastructure to speak of until 2019, requiring the residents to drive to work, and there doesn’t appear to be any plan for easing the environmental burden, whether in power or water usage. Carr’s plan is, as usual, a short-term vision for a long-term problem. What shops are going into these suburbs? Who’s going to run them? What has to be given away to get the major retail support? If Bob thinks Coles and Woolies are going to build supermarkets in his village centres, he must be deluded or already conceding the tax revenues to entice them. If he thinks the drilling being planned out in the aquifers is going to supply the increased demand for water, he must be listening to a latter-day Noah. As for electricity, well, he’s working on the coal-fired plants even as we speak, although it’s going to cost all of us plenty more even before the new houses go up. Vision, Mr. Carr, is a word meant to be used when the plan employs foresight, not desperation.

The Best-We’ve-Got-Right-Now-for-You Generation
“You go to war with the army you have,” is the best response Donald Rumsfeld could muster when questioned – by the troops themselves – why the army doesn’t have all the equipment it needs in Iraq. Sorry, but that’s the answer you give when you’re the army fighting defense, not offense, and as someone who grew up in the Second World War, he ought to know that. In that war, we built up the military and kept building until the war was over. In fact, we were building and shipping for the allies before we even joined in. This time, we didn’t plan, we haven’t executed well, and it’s the soldiers on the ground who suffer. Meanwhile, you won’t hear a lot about this from the conservative commentators around, at least not until they can figure out a way to keep Rumsfeld the “best Secretary of Defense . . . ever.” They just don’t get it, do they?

Festival or Famine
With the news of Marianne Faithful pulling out from performing in The Black Rider at the Sydney Festival this year, aren’t we glad we opted instead to go see the Leonard Cohen tribute? Yes, but then, we probably were, anyway. Meanwhile, we also hope Ms. Faithful will recover well. Her career’s rise and fall and rise again and again has offered great entertainment at its peaks, and I hear her new album is her best work since Broken English, which is a tempting prospect.

Wire Act
I finally made it out to see Hero last night, which M. left me to do on my own, there being too many battle scenes for her taste, but I think she ought to have come along. Although, yes, there are vast troop movements, this isn’t Return of the King or one of the usual epochal Camelot films, although there is a mythic, Arthurian quality. Instead, and in addition to the appeal of the story itself, it’s one of the most brilliantly colored movies I think I’ve ever seen, not to disparage in any way the restored print I saw a while back of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, I think, spoiled the graceful arial effects, or, at least, they didn’t come off so well in this film, perhaps because of the kind of 3D-style camera-work that was often used with them. This is not to say, however, that any of the actors were themselves ungraceful; they were, immensely so. The music was brilliant, and the story full of nuances to be mulled over and discussed for their present-day significance and universality. Something about these political creation tales, legends of the ancients, when heroes strode the world in grand, epochal fashion, resonates within us, regardless of the cultural source. War and peace, love and relationships, patriotism and partisanship . . . all these things were present and not simply glossed. The feelings, the passions, aroused within this movie are deep, with a surface polish that is hard to see past sometimes, but lets us know there is so much more beneath just the same. I kept thinking of a particular niece, too, whose present studies in Chinese language would make for some fine points of discussion, I’m sure, vis-à-vis the spoken words vs. the subtitles, perhaps some insights on the use of dialects, and the subtleties at work in the story and presentation.

Merry Christmas, You Bastards
It’s an interesting proposition, one raised, as Miranda Devine rightly claims, year after year, that Christmas is under attack. Oh-my-God. What will we do? Sadly, what we hear more about these days isn’t the same as what the Christians used to ask, that we “keep Christ in Christmas,” but instead it’s a kind of Wahhibist hue and cry for Christmas to be celebrated in full force by everyone. No secular society here. Instead, some chicken sandwich shop doesn’t want to put up a nativity scene, and they’re anti-Christian. The city spends hundreds of thousands of dollars more on decorations around town and they’re not enough, they’re “grim.” While there are a number of people of conservative political mindsets who claim it’s non-Christians making it hard on the “rest of us,” in fact, the claim that secular forces are conspiring to disallow religious celebrations in public is equally a myth, and it make me angry to have these fundamentalist mental cases throwing this in my face every year. Growing up, I witnessed a move from civic decorations devoted to fir trees, Santa Claus, and reindeer to efforts inclusive of other religious festivals of the season, with menorahs and Davidic stars mixed in among the other tinselled streetlamp wraps and banners. There were always pretty lights and colorful placards and so forth, and it was very pleasant. And since those days, nothing’s changed – nothing, except that lately, since the 1980’s, I’d say, there has been a growing discontent among conservatives over their depth of control. I’ve lately spent some time re-reading literature from the 1930’s and ‘40’s, and it’s very plain to see that conservatism used to feel it encompassed morality and then lost its grip over the course of the two World Wars. Although the 1950’s saw the fist clutch more tightly, the pressure exerted only caused what it tried to hold onto to squeeze out explosively during the 1960’s and ‘70’s, and the fragmentation that occurred has only recently moved to reassemble social order, albeit in a new inclusive fashion than previously. For the last twenty years, however, that fist is closing again, and the pundits of conservatism, such as Miranda Devine, Rush Limbaugh, Fred Nile, Jerry Falwell, have risen to decry the lack of morality in public, and they choose to do this by “astroturfing” the FCC with indecency complaints, using the media to cavil against chicko-shops and an insufficiency of Christmas cheeriness at Town Hall. This serves to raise the ire of small-minded people, who then proceed to support the broader agenda at work. But look, it’s not as bad as they’re making out. There’s tinsel everywhere, tacky, yes, but present up and down the main streets of suburb and city. The shopping malls and storefronts have their fake snow and plastic evergreens. There’s no lack of Salvos begging spare change, Santas in “North Pole” villages for your annual photo distribution to the rellies. At least one house in each town is decorated with enough lights and Frosty Snowmen to see its quarterly energy bill exceed its mortgage repayment by an order of magnitude, and the traffic will be abysmal with everyone driving by to see it. There are even little stables with Wise Men and Christ Childs overlooked by 60-watt angels. The non-Christians are not unhappy the Christians make a point of Christmas, and the secularists only bemoan the shabbiness of the decorations’ quality. (Fairy lights and tinsel and bauble-hung pines look a bit dismal in these southern climes, and it doesn’t help to substitute palms or eucalypts.) So maybe it isn’t Christmas that’s under siege. Maybe it’s just the pressure of all those gifts you’re going to have to get, the hot weather, and the sense of enforced cheer. Maybe if you celebrated Christmas itself, you could stop picking on everyone else who isn’t doing it to your standard. Just a suggestion.

Mountain Greenery
So we were up in the mountains, as the Laurie Anderson piece starts, but we don’t go on from there in the same vein. Instead, we were visiting Katoomba, meeting with friends there and having a relaxing weekend away in the Blue Mountains. We overnighted at the Carrington, a kind of Overlook Hotel, but without the ghosts, and had a nice look around, including, naturally the Three Sisters, a natural feature of the landscape I can’t seem to stay away from – this is the third time for me.

I’m going to have to see a bit more of the local natural wonders eventually, but I’m not going to kick about it. In fact, although the Catskills might be the most easily comparable location in the States, it seems quite pleasant indeed up there. That might be less true during fire season, and winter gets a little chilly, no doubt, but I like that. Certainly, it would be quiet, and it’s always very green and restful. I should stop thinking of retirement now, though, and get back to work.

Power, Absolutely
We don’t have Niagara Falls turning any turbines around here, and nuclear plants don’t operate as promised (and never have), so all we can rely on for electricity are coal-fired power plants, by and large. They’re rough on the environment, and demand is higher than they can supply readily, especially in summer, leading to the latest Carr government innovation: a special levy. From the article, it sounds like Penrith and the western margins of the city are where the trouble is, but a lot of the money is in the CBD, so I expect the levy not to be very favorably structured for unit-dwellers around town. I’d like to get some better details though, and soon; it’s only fair, if they’re going to charge me, that they tell me about it first. I just renewed by EnergyAustralia contract, too, which I’d expect to be honoured. There is no honor among politicians, however.

Southerly Buster
Yesterday’s temperatures triggered a burst of colder air sweeping in off the sea by the late afternoon, bringing not only a welcome relief as I walked to the Parramatta station but also, by around eight or nine o’clock, a brief patter of rain. The sound, scattered raindrops pattering on the metal awning beneath our windows, was distinct, but it’s been so long, I didn’t recognize it at first; I wasn’t even sure where it was coming from. The rain didn’t last long overnight, but this morning dawned cool and grey and with a bit of a downpour here and there over the area, leaving the sidewalks and roadways gleaming, freshly washed. Such a relief, however brief it will yet prove, that the rainy season is not quite finished. As I post this, however, the sun has come out to torment me further.

Homeland Insufficiency
Tom Ridge has resigned, but to call the results of his tenure as Director of Homeland Security “mixed” is to be generous. Yes, explosives-detection equipment has been installed in some airports, but while luggage remains largely unscreened (other than: “did you pack your bags yourself” inquiries), National Guardsmen loiter around the magnometers, M16’s in hand, while inept fetishists require a sniff of your shoes or feel up your grandmother. Good work, Tom. As for color-coded alerts, well, thank God we had John Ashcroft screaming hysterically like a panicked schoolgirl, because that put Ridge’s calm befuddlement in context: I don’t know what’s wrong with John, he seemed to say, we’re still only ON HIGH ALERT! To be fair, American business interests haven’t done anything other than whinge and drag their feet over any idea of investing in security improvements themselves, and that has made things difficult for Ridge, especially given the lousy budget he had to work with: “My President created a new Cabinet position but all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” Or pantone chart. International businesses have long sought ways to avoid regulation and increase profit, and they’ve generally been very successful. Nevertheless, how much business are they going to do after they’ve shipped in a container full of nukes? Upgrade or die, I say. The cost of doing business has now grown to include securing commercial shipping – air, sea, road, rail. Negotiate a tax break if you can, but otherwise, get it done.

It remains to be seen whom Bush will appoint by February, but I sincerely hope it’s someone with vision and force, not just another bobbing head or Cold Warrior.

1 December
It's officially summer here now, which explains the heat. My God, it's hot. O.k., so it's really only 101 Fahrenheit, that's not hot enough for you? On the first day of summer? Yeah, that's what I thought. Of course, I'm not really very far west from the city, but every kilometer counts when you can only rely on lovely sea breezes to cool things off to a reasonable temperature. Down by the harbour, it's a balmy 27.9, whereas out here, it's 38.5. Going out at lunch, I could feel the moisture evaporating off my eyeballs, much as it did when we visited Las Vegas. Maybe it's not really that bad. It would help if they'd fix the air conditioning in the office. Three months of this. Of course, it's really longer than than; we do have to contend with the solstice and then wait for the equinox (note: Northern Hemisphere-centric links), which effectively add another month of hot weather. No wonder the city shuts down over Christmas-New Year's. Culture-shock temper tantrum? You were warned in the masthead.

Double-Plus Liberty
Policy Review has an article by Tod Lindberg on Neoconservatism’s Liberal Legacy in which he argues that neocons, such as himself, are in fact liberals. Well, they serve a liberal agenda in that they balance freedom and equality in matters of public policy. The article strikes me as a bit of double-think, but there is a valid point being made, insofar as neoconservatives are operating within a democratic context. The gloss on the moral basis of the judgments serving the polarity of the neocon position, however, ultimately argues towards status quo more than it does towards positive change. Society will decide, ultimately what the neocon agenda is, by balancing any extremes therein with extremes from the opposite end of the political spectrum, with the ability of the public to accept greater equality for a greater number increasing as their own freedoms expand and can be more generous. Thus, gay rights, for example, will ultimately come to pass – or not – based on society’s ability and its intrinsic need to accept the equality of homosexuals once the rest of society’s freedom is no longer perceived as being threatened thereby. It’s a persuasive argument, but it boils down to: “I’ve got mine, Jack; screw you.” For all its truth, society can do better. Every change is a paradigm shift; every change is a revolution, at least insofar as you refuse to think critically and dispassionately from a standpoint outside your own selfishness. It is selfishness that pushes people to opposite ends of the political divide, and it is selfishness that keeps them there, mocking their opponents, attacking what they refuse to understand. “Free your mind, and the rest will follow,” as the saying goes, and it’s true: once you can step outside hidebound tradition, once you can see the other point of view, it becomes difficult indeed to be less than compassionate. Paul Wolfowitz and the like may claim the neoconservative label, and they may apply it to George Bush and his ilk, but they do not serve a compassionate purpose. The morality of Bush, the political agenda of the neocons in Washington DC, these seek to balance their freedom over the equality of others, judging according to their perception of the superiority of their own moral system. It’s circular, and it’s selfish.