Sunshine
I’m a sucker for a science fiction movie, so I headed off early on Sunday to see this one. It’s about as improbable as any science fiction, maybe more – really, my math was never good enough to get me through high school physics, so I don’t even have that much of the necessary grounding, but just how likely is it that if the “sun is dying,” dropping a big ol’ H-bomb would restart it? What does that mean, “the sun is dying”? Is it running out of fuel? Is it collapsing? Apparently, it isn’t going nova, anyway. Does a bomb with the “mass of Manhattan” have enough to keep it burning at life-sustaining levels? Who cares? The point isn’t the pretty, pretty outer space stuff, it’s the adventure, and Sunshine manages to maintain tension levels at a high pitch pretty nearly throughout the movie, although without any relieving moments or sudden shocks. There were some pretty daggy bits of cinema business sprinkled through the movie, often enough to be distracting, particularly the “echo” of one character’s earlier remark at the moment of truth. I promise to go see something grown-up next.

New Commandments
I'm with ikkyu2, over at Metafilter
it's an amusing video, worth a youtube link.

People-Smuggling Goes Legit
Australia plans to ship illegal immigrants to America in exchange for legal, Cuban refugees, currently being locked up in Guantanamo (presumably right next to the "worst of the worst" terrorists?). Opposition Leader Kevin Rudd is struggling over the logic of this arrangement, but clearly the message is that Australia won't accept illegals, but since America already does, they might as well go there, and on Qantas, too. The nice part is, Howard won't have to act counter to Australia's international agreement not to ship refugees to countries where they would be subject to human rights abuses. I'm not sure what America gets out of the deal.

Moved
My photographic skills are insufficient to record the charm of living in a two-up, two-down terrace house.

The renovations performed on the one I’m living in were well done, creating a sense of openness even while maintaining the separation between the rooms.

And while it’s equal parts nice and annoying to have a (largely) private outdoor space,

due to the leaves and such descending at this time of year, and which the cats also enjoy (one more than the other, who remains shy of open spaces),

there’s also the neighboring oval, where the local kids play rugby,

and the local architectural features.

So, although I’m in the flightpath, the overhead planes are neither so frequent nor so low as would be oppressive, and I’m far enough back from Parramatta Road that the traffic is only noticeable from that distance in the otherwise immense quiet of very late at night, I’ve found a place to live that’s only marred by the fact that I don’t own it myself.

Sorry Sorry
To call him a “shock jock” is to excuse years of bad behavior. To pander to him, as so many, politicians often, have done is to offer support for the bigotry he perpetrated or enabled so frequently on his radio show. Firing Don Imus for his latest racist slur is only to correct a situation perpetuated for so long out of greed. That it took CBS two weeks to figure out that they couldn’t just slap his wrist and send him off to bed without supper is shameful. His apology was empty, worthless. It’s about time CBS acted. Years past time, I’d say.

Gnashing of Teeth
We hope for Iraq every day, even though we hear, every day, of new violent deaths, of soldiers or civilians or both, and yet we hope. We want their government to work, to find a way to stop the bloodshed. But they cannot even protect themselves, and we are left with unholy visions of unending violence and death and no clear way towards stopping any of what’s happening there, whether the civil war or the inflammatory massacres perpetrated by al Qaeda. There is no reasonable expectation that Iran or Syria or any other of the more militarist Arab nations would or even could stem the violence. There is little enough indication that the U.S., despite the President’s 20,000 troops escalation and 15-month tour extension, can do anything other than watch the whole country go straight to hell-on-earth. We screwed up badly and continue to make the mess worse, having failed to learn or apply, except piecemeal, any lessons from the early days of the invasion and occupation. We stand in the midst of a civil war, where either side is willing to shoot at us, to blame us, and we don’t know who to shoot at, or even which side we’re on, except to say, we’re on everybody’s side, we’re on Iraq’s side, we’re on Democracy’s side. Empty platitudes. There is no side. There’s only being stuck in the middle or getting out. If they won’t, I say we should. But that would require Bush to admit he was wrong, and he’s never done it yet.

Thirty Years On
I have no problem with Kevin Rudd going to Long Tan for an ANZAC service. The Australian veterans of that war deserve the same recognition afforded to the soldiers of Gallipoli. Yeah, it’s a political stunt, but I can hope Rudd goes in a different spirit to that offered by Mr. Howard last year, when he said he hadn’t changed his mind from his support for the Vietnam War thirty years later.

Home Economics
If I'm using this NYTimes buying vs. renting calculator even close to correctly, by not buying my own home I stand to save a considerable sum better put towards other investmentsover more than 10 years, if the present real estate conditions and other factors continue to hold true. A home would have to increase in value by nearly 20% annually for it to make sense to buy within the next 2 years. We saw something like 4% on our sale, averaged over the time we were there. At that rate, my present rent could increase by 30% annually and it would still be cheaper not to own.

Swedish Blondes
At last, back to work, a blessed relief from what seemed would be endless trips to Ikea. Sure, the furniture bought last week got delivered on time, all fourteen out of fifteen flat-packs. Only the Swedes know what happened to the coffee table, and they're not telling. But the bookshelves went up pretty quickly and everything finally got unpacked, so the house looks like home. Really, I don't mind going to Ikea, so long as there's no track-work, forcing me onto alternative bus service, which adds an hour onto the trip. And I don't mind putting the stuff together, either, although at this point, if I never see an allen wrench again, it'll be too soon.

Now, in keeping with my theme, i.e., culture-shock temper tantrums, I should just mention that the Ikea experience is slightly off from what I came to expect from trips out to Elizabeth, N.J., whereat a serve of Swedish meatballs came with red bliss potatoes. Here, in keeping with a different starch tradition, it's chips, i.e., French fries. Not that I'm actually complaining, you know, just saying, is all.

Meanwhile, I also bought some new audio equipment. For once in my life, I not only went to a dedicated hi-fi shop, but chatted with the salesman, getting the low down on the different brands and what they delivered. I could have bought a package and gotten a good deal, but went with components instead, relying on the principle that it all comes down to the speakers, which is where I spent a bit more than I'd budgeted. Nevertheless, having hooked it all up and tried out the different options: CD, tape, phono, radio, I'm amazed. This is easily the best set-up I've ever owned. The sound's so good, it's scarey, and I'm dialling down the volume just so I don't rattle the plaster off the bricks. Yeah, I'd go back to the HiFi Trader anytime, but don't expect to have to. They sold me solid, reliable equipment that'll last for years and will sound good wherever I live, I have no doubt.

Nightlight
So there I was, at 7:30 p.m., Saturday, 31 March, in my new residence, all the lights off, all the electric outlets switched off at the wall, sitting in the dark with the cats, experiencing life without electricity for the first time in many years. Funny, but the house where I’m living goes back to the 19th century, so the experience would not have been entirely unusual for its original inhabitants, who, at least, would have had gaslight, but no radio, no television, no refrigerator, telephone, any of the things we pretty well take for granted. Earth Hour would have to have been reckoned a success.

Except for the older couple next door. I could hear they were watching the rugby, cheering for some notable play. Sports-mad, some people.

But there you have it, yes, all moved in. The movers turned up late on Saturday morning, just two guys, but big, and fast and professional, too. They were flying through, until someone stole the lift key for themselves about halfway through, so moving out ended up taking three hours. By then it was just after noon, so before unloading, we stopped for some Thai food in Newtown, just the next suburb over from our destination. There are a lot of Thai restaurants in Sydney, and sometimes it seems like most of them are in Newtown. This one was pretty good, and we all felt energized for the remainder of the job, which only took another hour, even though they had to haul the bed in over the front rail of the upstairs balcony.

I unpacked for a bit, just getting some of the necessary stuff out, and headed back for the cats. I’d left a few other things back in the apartment, with the idea of cleaning and so forth, to leave the place in good shape for the new owners. I spent an hour or so on that, stuffed the cats into their carrier and headed back to Camperdown.

For the next little while, I unpacked some more, but the cats wouldn’t leave the security of the carrier. It took about an hour for the brave one to venture forth, but I’m not sure when the other got his nerve up. It wasn’t enough, however, because he went straight in behind the couch.

By Sunday morning, they were pretty free with making their way through the house, having finally ventured upstairs to sleep on the bed with me overnight and to be there to ensure they got breakfast on time. They needed a lot of reassurance throughout the day, but Felix is a nicer cat with some of the arrogance knocked out. He’ll be a trial before long, I’m sure.

I went out to Ikea for bookcases and some incidental furniture, probably buying more than I should have, but did pretty well for myself. The carts they provide to self-serve your furniture don’t take but two sets of bookshelves, though, without becoming nearly unmanageable, and I ended up employing three of them, and having to get some staff to help me move them through check-out and over to the delivery counter.

After a lot of back and forth, trains, busses, cabs, walking along Parramatta Road, I was done by about five, and even unpacked, with the flattened boxes put away in the attic. There are still things to sort out: no phone jack in the room set aside as the office, for example, so I’ll need an electrician, and I’ve got to talk to the landlord about hanging a few pictures (most of the art’s up, because there were posts in the walls already, albeit in odd positions). I’ll fill out my copy of the condition report today and that’s the lot.

Next weekend, I’ll spend Thursday putting together Ikea furniture, loading up bookshelves, and then it’s off to explore the neighborhood.

Serving Justice
David Hicks has pled guilty to the only remaining charge (revised) against him. He faces a potential term of life imprisonment, but it’s possible he’s entered this plea under some arrangement based on the 5 years he’s already spent in Guantanamo. Arrangements are already in place for him to be returned to Australia to serve out any additional time locally.

I’m pretty much on board with Democrats Senator Bob Brown here: we’ll never know what Hicks did or didn’t do, but we’ll always remember that John Howard let him rot for 5 years, never saying a word, until the political pressure became too much and his government’s hold on power, just a few months out from the next election, started to slip. When Tony Blair got his people out, Howard was happy to let Hicks be labelled and judged and condemned, blaming Hicks himself for the length of his stay, due to the challenges he and other prisoners made against the Bush administration’s illegal detention and illegal military commissions. So, yes, I’m with Nationals Senator Barnaby Joyce, too, in that the system itself is guilty, as guilty as John Howard. As for Foreign Minister Alexander Downer, his statement, that he was one of those taking the middle view of Hicks’ guilt or innocence, “really,” is not to be believed. He sat idly by, smugly smirking, happy to let Bush do whatever he pleased, however long it took, also frequently blaming Hicks’ appeals for the duration of his illegal incarceration.

I’m glad for David Hicks’ family, that their son will now be allowed to return to Australia, but reserved in my relief for them and for Hicks himself, until it’s known under what conditions his return will take place. Certainly, ASIO will have him declared a “person of interest,” like the last released Australian detainee (again, with no help from this government), Mamdou Habib, and place him under perpetual surveillance. He’ll never have a job, never be free to go where he likes when he likes, without knowing at all times, he’s being watched. Unlike any other properly tried offender, David Hicks will get out of prison, but he’ll never get out of jail.

Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics
We've heard a lot about WorkChoices, the pet project John Howard rammed through Parliament last year, once he'd achieved a majority in both Houses. We've heard it's working great, we've heard it's hurting women, we've heard what it does and what it doesn't do. From all the descriptions I've read, not to mention the number of instances of employers using it to attempt to do the wrong thing by their employees, both individually and collectively, regardless of the tribunal outcomes, I regard this legislation as a very serious setback for all working people, especially those working in large corporate environments, which employers the legislation is meant to benefit, for all the government's touting it on behalf of small business owners. But now the government is desperately trying to work the numbers to their benefit, and claiming the statistics cited by the opposition are being "spun." The numbers are the numbers, boys, so fudging them now isn't going to do you much good. Well, except for the people who still believe only what they hear from Mr. Howard himself. But they're poor lost souls already.

Monsters
It's been a long time since I've seen a monster movie - as distinct from the overall horror genre, where the monsters is us - as good as The Host. The monster itself doesn't occupy nearly as much screen time as we've been led to expect over the years, so, like the Alien franchise, we get more of what makes a monster movie so good: pure tension, of course, but also, the characterizations, the why, why we ever battle against even things we cannot hope to overcome. The tension is unrelenting, even though there are many light moments. I found myself gripping the arms of my chair, and having to consciously relax, poised with a forward lean and searching the screen for a clue of what might come next. Yes, there were the usual shocks, though only one or two, but more often the most affecting moments were the ones you didn't see, but had to come to grips with afterwards, especially at the end. I've been an afficiando of the genre for many years now, and this is the kind of movie that reminds you of why the genre exists. I've also espoused the idea that this was a format that America did better than anyone else, but having long ago ceded the horror ground to slasher flicks and the like, The Host takes on Hollywood and wins.

Transitions
And there you have it: ballot cast. The NSW election results will be interesting, but at the moment, I don't have a television, so it'll have to wait until the papers come out in the morning, before I know what's happened. I'm not completely sure I figured it out: two sheets of paper: one massive, one very small - handbill-size. The former the State ballot, the latter the city ballot, I guess. I should have asked, but instead just followed the basic directions for assigning preferences and threw them in.

Preferences: now that's an interesting thing. After the 2000 debacle in the U.S. there was a lot of talk about Electoral College reform, and often the idea of voting preferences came into it. I like the idea, and, especially in my Sydney vote, saw it as a way of registering a positive vote both for my preferred candidate and for a better result if my first choice didn't win. On the State ballot, however, I was flummoxed: vote the party or vote around them? In the end, I elected to assign my full vote to one party, as I expect many others will have done.

In the end, I marked it down as "practice" towards the next Federal election.

(Meanwhile, I've also largely finished packing, and the move happens next Saturday. It's all more chaotic than it ought to be, and unpacking will be a trial to last several weeks, especially as it will require a trip to Ikea as soon as, in order to achieve sufficient bookcase capacity. Really, I ought to have an estate sale pre-estate, at least of the LP's, even if they are, many of them, Held in Trust, for brother T.)

Edwards
It’s almost awe-inspiring, that John Edwards will continue his Presidential campaign in the face of his wife’s diagnosis, mostly for the determination exhibited by Mrs. Edwards, as well as the dedication of Mr. Edwards himself, both to his wife and to his goal. (Some would say “ambition,” but I actually believe he means his campaign to be about policy, about making the country a better place, rather than just some desire for power, and I see the changes he proposes as positive and progressive, rather than the regressive Reaganomic revisionism of the man he’d replace.) I tagged Mr. Edwards as a “twitterer” to follow before I heard the news, just because his take-up of new internet communications strategies struck me as appealing, and I suppose now it can be a method of personal support. The health dramas of last year in my household leave me more than a little sympathetic to what they’ll be going through.

Citizenship in Action
Tomorrow I get to cast my first Australian ballot. Labor looks headed for a landslide, and they’d be my preferred party, but pretty nearly everyone’s saying don’t do it. What’s most remarkable about the editorials I’ve read is that they don’t make much of a point of actively advocating a Coalition vote. And, of course, none of them endorse the Greens or Democrats. I’ve met the Labor candidate and read her literature, and there’s not much there there, and I’ve had dealings with the Greens candidate, who now, due to redistricting, finds himself head-to-head with Clover Moore (whom I’ve also met – she swore me in as an Australian; we fed each other lamingtons at the after-party. O.k., not that last part), and I like him. But he is going up against Clover, so he doesn’t have much of a chance, unless the new district puts more people into the electorate opposed to her having two seats, one in State Parliament and one in City Hall, where she also serves, as Lord Mayor. I have no idea who the Liberal candidate is, and don’t much care. While the Herald advocates change for change’s sake, I still have an ideology of my own. I’ll go into the booth juggling my preferences: Chris Harris or Clover Moore. That's if I can figure out the ballot.

Black Sox Redux?
There were rumors immediately, and now it’s been confirmed: Pakistan cricket coach, Paul Woolmer was murdered at the cricket World Cup, now underway in Jamaica. Rumors persist that it has something to do with match-fixing, apparently a perennial allegation regarding Pakistani cricket, but with the team’s early departure from the Cup, there’d seem to be a whole lot of potential issues, even leaving aside the well-known crime problem of the West Indian nation. (Yeah, nothing was stolen, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been just a straight-up, garden-variety murder.) It’s kind of amazing to me, but probably because I never followed cricket at all (and still don’t track more than who won the Ashes, really), leaving its pristine image of gentlemanly conduct and clean, white, elegance to hide the sledging and other bad behavior, even despite Shane Warne.

The Urge to Cover
Bush protects Rove like a mama bear does her cubs. At least in part, it’s because “Executive Privilege” is the watchword of the administration, but I think it’s also because Rove himself must be maintained as the evil genius of the GOP resurgence post-Clinton, at least insofar as having him loom over the elections process provides some public impression of the Republicans as an indomitable force. It’s silly, really, as we’ve all seen his clay feet, especially lately, with the mid-terms gone wrong. And it inevitably raises questions: just what is his involvement? How much of this constant covering-up is actually meant to hide anything? Is it all just red herrings, keeping the Democrats distracted, while Bush-Cheney consolidate power in the White House? Rove, after all, really isn’t much more than a marketing wonk, a PR man straight out of Sweet Smell of Success, except dumpier, of course. Go ahead, Rose, testify under oath. After all, as you neocon jerks are so fond of saying, if you’ve got nothing to hide, you’ve got nothing to worry about.

Objet d'net
Jason Kottke's been going on about Twitter for a few days now, and, what can I say? I signed up, as evidenced by the "badge" over to the right. It's "public" instant messaging, as he describes it, a kind of social networking site, and it's got a pretty nice feel to it, although at the moment, it doesn't seem like much is happening, like going to a party where nobody knows anybody else so they're all furiously signalling their bona fides as someone worth taking to. I suppose that's unfair. But I'm interested, and I'll see what comes of it.

Moi?
So most Australians consider the PM arrogant, the PM, naturally enough, not being among them: ”I don’t feel very arrogant,” he tell us, “I don’t behave in an arrogant manner.” It’s true, too, he doesn’t. He’s much more usually behaving like a petulant schoolboy, well, when he isn’t sneering his way through Question Time. Oh, yeah, the sneering. Maybe that’s why he started out saying “I don’t have anything to be arrogant about, not at the moment politically, nothing at all.” Right, because the polls have him and his party down under 40% and no amount of mud-slinging seems to help. So, nothing, politically, anyway. Maybe if he comes on all humble, he can get another term. Start snivelling, John, it couldn’t hurt.

Unplugged
The Sydney Morning Herald is promoting an environmental awareness campaign, called “Earth Hour,” wherein, on March 31, at 7:30 p.m., Sydney will turn out its lights. O.k., well, so far 25,000 of us will turn off our lights, including me, although that’s the day I’m moving into my new accommodations.

It’s an interesting idea, and I’m hoping they’ll get a satellite photo. It would be really good if it could spread across the industrialized world. Imagine Earth Hour NYC. Or across the Eastern seaboard of the US, an area that appears in space photos as a dense band of white, light bleeding up into space. I wonder what the space aliens would think if the entire planet went from light to dark and back again in a rotating band?

Socialists
I went to the Sydney weblogger meet-up tonight, at the Art House Hotel, a pretentious little CBD watering hole, but never did find the group. I didn't see anyone I recognized - not that I expected to, given that the last one I attended was at least two months ago - and didn't see any evidence of the plush toy meant to be displayed for attendees to locate the group. It was a big place, although not very crowded, but I just don't know if going to something like this is ever going to do me enough good to bother about in the future. From the last group, these are not people who could provide much professional benefit, so it's all down to just being sociable. Frankly, I don't see forcing myself into such situations. Finding myself in one and being friendly is one thing, but this just feels like I'm being intrusive. Well, I'll try once more; I was early tonight, so maybe nobody was there before I left. In the end, I can stick to the Democrats (although they're not really radical enough to suit me).

Mr. Hitchens Spins His Web
It’s been said that the more venomous a spider is, the messier it’s web. That’s probably not anything based on fact, just some anecdotal observation that Black Widows don’t use the same more-or-less symmetrical design of some other, less-dangerous-to-humans arachnid. But for a human analog to this principal, you need look no further than Christopher Hitchens, in Slate. He spins and spins until he’s so dizzy, he’s lost all track of his own argument, spewing up his righteousness and spraying us all. He starts out well – he’s a smart guy, as we all know, right – but by the time he gets to just his fourth Q&A, he’s lost control, dizzily reeling through his self-constructed little press conference. By the end, he’s just embarrassing himself. Perhaps a more fulsome attempt at justifying the Iraq debacle for its fourth anniversary would have been more effective. I doubt it.

Bunnies!
When I heard that Russell Crowe was buying into the Rabbitohs, as part of a bid to regenerate the inner-city perennially last-place club, I didn’t expect Armani, just a rebuilt Redfern playing ground. But Crowe and the rest of the new ownership not only got the players well-dressed, it may be they get well-respected, too, with last night’s 18-6 win over the Roosters starting off the season with a bang. Good on ya, Bunnies. (Now, about that oval. . . .)

Double-Dealing Double Standards
I’d thought to give Liberal MP Santo Santoro a pass on his failure to disclose shareholdings that put him in a bind over his portfolio. He did the right thing, I thought, oversights happen, and when he realized he’d missed the disclosure, he gave the profits to a charity. I was wrong. Santoro’s portfolio as Minister for Ageing meant his stock portfolio needed to be disclosed. This isn’t so difficult, so it’s more than an honest error. He should at the very least have offered his resignation. Howard should probably have accepted it, under the ministerial conduct guidelines he himself put in place back in 1996. But Howard’s not one for saying sorry and not one for enforcing the conduct of his ministers; that would be admitting a mistake. But to make matters worse, that “charity” Santoro donated to? It’s a lobbying group. It isn’t a charity at all, not registered, nothing. Yes, other actual charitable organizations, including the Salvos, the Catholics, and others, funnel money into it, but the “Family Council of Queensland” is not itself a charity. So he took the ill-gotten gains and made a political contribution. So he lied. Twice. And he still hasn’t resigned.

Crooks and liars, the Liberals, every damn one of them, since the beginning of their present reign. No wonder Howard’s approval ratings are tanking. Perhaps at last the Australian people will demand accountability at the polls.

Rhetoric Ramp-Up Alert
When John Howard says he’s going to work harder on improving the now-dismal poll results being returned against him as preferred Prime Minister and his party overall, believe it. Sure, Costello’s on record now saying the budget’s tight, so don’t expect any pre-election tax relief or hand-outs, and after a few weeks of playing the man rather than the policies during question time, childish taunts and all (“they started it!”), he’d seem to have his work cut out for him. But listen, “I think one of the reasons is that the Labor Party has successfully created the impression that it doesn't matter who is in Government, the economy will continue to grow.” Ah. Back to interest rates and scare tactics. I wonder how well that’s going to fly, with all we know about the negative effects of “WorkChoices” and the interest rate rises that haven’t come back down yet and the property market that’s turned into a rental nightmare as well as depressing growth. No, I think Mr. Howard’s got a tough row over these next eight months, and it’ll only get tougher in March, when NSW returns Labor to power despite Morris Iemma, et al.

Lose Weight – In Your Dreams!
Now, if I apply the ”I think I can, I think I can” fitness method short, intense intervals, I can lose weight fast. Well, if I cut out all the pie.

Relocation
We got the word today: our real estate agent has been given the deposit check and authorization to put in the bank, so the sale is on. All that’s left is to finish packing, hire a mover, schedule the settlement date, sign the papers, and walk away. Not necessarily in quite that order. Oh, and find a place to live.

That latter part, however, appears now to have been done. I’m moving a few suburbs west, to Camperdown (sounds like a Boy Scout emergency call, doesn’t it?), assuming my application clears its final hurdles, which shouldn’t be a problem. Of course, there’s also changing my address details with all and sundry, most especially for magazine subscriptions, cancelling or transferring various utilities, and so forth. All in about three weeks. Normally, these things are done in 5 to 6 weeks, but our buyers want to move fast, and I’m just as happy to let them.

The new place will have a small back garden, which I’ll have to “improve” a little bit for the cats (see previous post). But it’s really nice. I just hope the massive sofa will fit through the door.

Every Night I Go Home and My IQ Sinks Through the Floor
This has to be one of the funniest cartoons I’ve seen outside the New Yorker.

I’m living proof.
(From XKCD, via Larvatus Prodeo.)

Gruesome
Tonight, hot as it was, air conditioning seemed called for, so I went off to Broadway to see The Last King of Scotland, the Idi Amin movie. While fictional, or fictionalized, by the addition of Dr. Garrigan, the dictator's personal physician, the story's focus on Amin is otherwise factual, and that makes this one of the most effective horror movies ever made. Forest Whitaker deserved that Oscar. The moment he appears, and despite everything we already know about Amin, we are the in the grip of a terrifyingly charismatic evil, a monster all the more evil for being real. Little enough is shown or even directly referenced of the terrible things Amin did, but there's no doubt left, no room left for any verdict other than to consign that man to damnation and condemn any complicity, even if from ignorance. It's the kind of movie that makes you want to delve into the history.

Perils, Part Two
First thing this morning, after a quick stop at the supermarket for some essentials - cat litter, mostly - I headed off to start looking at properties. Although I've thought that I have no good reason to reveal to anyone that I have cats, and thereby to increase the pool of housing available to review, i.e., by including apartment blocks, where strata title committees, as well as individual flat owners, frown upon pets, I focussed today on houses. The first was just a few streets away and it was terrific. I don't think my sofa would fit through the door, but around the back, on the lane way, was a roll-up shutter forming the car park. The owners have elected to pave the entirety of the back garden, and also to seal it off with corrugated plastic roofing, and all I could think was, well, but the sofa out here, wrapped in plastic, until you find a place to buy again, and throw a sheet over it: this place would be perfect for a man with two cats more active than he is. Nevertheless, I proceeded out to Newtown to review small terraces out that way.

Again, none of them will accomodate the sofa unless I can find a way to take it apart and put it back together again, probably by some form of molecular transportation, like on Star Trek. Absent that technology, I'll have to sell it or leave it on the porch to get ruined in the first good rain. Still, only one of the terraces actually had a rising damp problem, unsuccessfully masked by new carpets (it also had the television aerial cable in the kitchen, oddly enough). But that first place was too good.

Of course, putting down an application is one thing, but until the 5-day cooling-off period is over, on Wednesday, I don't dare commit any money, because it would be forfeit if I had to pull out. Monday may be soon enough for paperwork, so long as I can wait until Thursday to start spending the big bucks.

Perils of Real Estate
Today, having secured a new buyer after the last one bailed over whether or not he could be sure of having access to the AFL events on Foxtel - no, really, although also because all the bankruptcy foreclosures we've had over the last year made him think our flat was overpriced - I went to look at my first potential rental after 10 years, all up, of being an owner (if you count having massive mortgages being "an owner"). It was a 3-bedroom terrace up at Taylor Square, tucked back in a lane and so away from the hedonism of that particular corner of Oxford Street. Very nice from the outside, it was an entirely different matter when the estate agent opened the front door.

The first thing I noticed was that it smelled musty. Not just old dust, but that underlying mould-under-the-carpet smell, which made perfect sense, because this place hasn't seen carpet since wall-to-wall became available. It's possible I might have overlooked this, although the next thing I noticed was that the entrance hall was uncarpeted, and the exposed floorboards hadn't been sanded in at least a century, let alone polished and sealed. I got splinters enough on old wood floors as a kid, and didn't relish more. It's not like I was going to take my shoes off even to walk on the carpets, though, so maybe I could overlook that, too.

The kitchen was large and L-shaped, and its linoleum was the kind that goes down in one big sheet, cut to fit around the cabinets and so forth. It was also bubbling up all over, not to mention ugly.

The two front rooms were dark, dingy and built for a race of humans who never exceeded four feet in height before becoming extinct. This also probably explains how they would have navigated the stairs to the two upper rooms, each much more light, though no less mouldy, than the downstairs rooms. I'd probably have to close one of them off, though, and use it for storage, if just to avoid that much extra cleaning effort, but it couldn't be the one at the front, because it was the better of the two, and if it was the one at the back, there'd be no place safe to end up having come to the top of the stairs.

Out back was a paved-over courtyard that could, with minimal effort, be made perfect for two young cats who can probably never be trusted to roam on their own, and looking around, I discovered the "internal laundry." Underneath the house. In a space about three feet high. With no hook-ups for a washer, let alone power outlets, but a nice tub to do everything by hand. Drying racks would have to serve, as no Hills Hoist was available, to say nothing of where I'd put a dryer.

The bathroom - and there was only one (admittedly my preference; as a single man, I'd rather not have to clean two) - was the final touch. The shower was set in the corner and the thought of touching bare anything to the tiles there induced a crawling sensation, as if the fungus was actively at work already. The toilet was the cheapest plastic, and the basin nearly invisible, set about two feet off the ground behind the door.

I could live here, I thought, and took an application. It took the rest of the day, a day spent ringing agents to hear them say "no pets" over and over again, when they didn't say the property I asked after had been snapped up already, to convince myself that I have at least 5 weeks to find a place and move, and that's assuming these buyers weren't so spooked by the stock market "correction" on Wednesday that they hang in and go to settlement.

Tomorrow, I've got two places to look at, in Newtown and Camperdown, both houses, so at least I can have a place to keep Felix & Theo.

Why Am I Still So Slow?
Believing in your workout = a workout? That’s the only kind of exercise I get. I ought to join the KRAC team in Los Angeles.
(Ref. Rebecca’s Pocket.)

Responsibilities and Privileges
When my application to become an Australian was being reviewed, I was required to recite two or three of my “responsibilities and privileges” under the law. It’s a responsibility for example, to vote and to keep my enrolment current. It’s a responsibility to defend the country, too, if called upon to do so (a nice mirror to my privilege of being eligible to join any of the branches of the military). It’s a privilege that, if I were to get in trouble with the law overseas, I could have recourse to ambassadorial assistance. So it’s surprising to me to hear the government now arguing before the High Court that the government has no obligation to assist David Hicks. It sounds like a losing argument to me, but then I take my civic responsibilities seriously and expect my privileges to be honored in the same spirit.

Twisted
We've had a second run at open inspection this weekend, and about the same amount of interest, if not the same dollars on offer. Everybody who's come up with an offer this time has come substantially lower than where we'd like them to, so, after a few chores, I took myself to the movies, Pan's Labyrinth, by Guillermo Del Toro. It was a bad choice, if what I was hoping for was to be cheered up. This has to be one of the saddest movies I've ever seen, aside from the ones with animals. Yes, it's beautiful, and it does things with mythology, like his earlier film, Cronos, that's become unexpected in mainstream cinema. It's brutal, in fact, which, I guess, is the political point it's trying to make, but beautiful, aside from that. I've come away from it saddened, but also angry. Set in facist Spain, in the period after the civil war there was effectively over and Franco's forces essentially just "mopping up," the sadism indicted is still present in our own time, and in places it shouldn't be. Do we hold ourselves so far above those evils, yet scuff and mumble over abuses in Iraq and Guantanamo? And who's harmed thereby? Not just the innocents, but our own selves, for every moment of silence, every second's delay in taking up our courage in both hands and changing the world however much we can. It's an awesome movie, which I mean in a non-slacker way. I'm gladdened by such artists, even as much as I'll probably be depressed for days.

Opinionated
One wonders upon what VP Cheney bases his declaration that David Hicks is at
“the head of the queue” and that his sentence, if found guilty, as is sure to happen, under the circumstances, will be reduced by time served, let alone the remainder to be spent in an Australian prison? What cynical impulse is it that suggests a deal’s been made?

Protestations
The Stop the War Coalition organized protests for yesterday and today against Dick Cheney, who’s visiting Sydney, and, of course, the usual cast of characters were out to join the fun, including, among those arrested, a couple of transvestites (apparently – ahem – busted for mocking the cops.

There seem always to be some trouble-makers at these events, although with only a dozen arrests in total, yesterday and today, it seems any attempt by Cheney supporters to denigrate the protestors as “the usual rabble” is just the usual sour grapes-level nonsense we’ve been getting from the Bush crowd ever since that gang got into office.

What’s more troubling is the attempts to shut down the protests at the last minute. The police filed for an injunction (which appears to have failed) because, after the Queen Mary 2’s arrival generated tremendous traffic snarls due to thousands of gaping onlookers driving in from all over Sydney (what? it’s big, but, c’mon: it’s a boat, people), the State government was embarrassed. Not the city, mind you, where Clover Moore seems more than happy to have civil civic participation of all kinds (perhaps especially when it brings on blushes over on Macquarie Street), but never mind. So the cops can’t handle a march down George Street? Or a rally in front of a hotel? Or trannies shaking their groove thangs at them? Weak.

When Life Imitates Economics
The white elephant apartment is all but sold now, contracts exchanged and the buyer on the hook after Monday, so in addition to pulling all the books and records out of the bookshelves and into boxes, I've begun the daily review of Domain.com for an over-priced one- to two-bedroom flat somewhere between "Sydney,", that is, Darlinghurst, Surry Hills, the CBD, etc., and the Inner West, i.e, Newtown, Glebe, et al. No way am I going past Erskineville, though.

Meanwhile, I'd like to know what's really meant by a "New York style" apartment. I think it means a slightly-bigger-than-usual studio. Probably it just means a studio. I've also discovered that having two cats is going to put me out of the running for most apartments. Please note, however, that this seems largely due to the reluctance of real estate agents to bother the landlords for more details than whether or not they'd like to get $450 per week or $500 for a unit that hasn't seen fresh paint in better than five years or new carpet (let alone a steam-clean) in ten.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Cats: no. Mildew: I'll start finding out this weekend, when I start attending open inspections. Meanwhile, I'm running two parallel searches: one for any housing, and one for houses. The stand-alone rentals have fewer problems with pets.

Update: it's awful to say, mere hours from putting this post up, but the buyer's pulled out. While we keep a portion of his earnest money (which will defray some of our advertising costs), that he's done so as late as this leaves us little hope of a quick turn-around re-advertising and having another open inspection by the weekend. It cools my search off, too, although that could yet be a timing problem, since I know there's some nice stuff opening up in mid-March. I'm also sorry I packed up as many of the books and records as I did, since the built-in bookshelves look enormous without their stock. Maybe one of the other interesteds from Saturday will still want it, probably for a lot less than asking-price.

Micro-Manager and Commander
The President appears to have made a concession regarding his status as Commander-in-Chief, saying ”[Congress has] the right to try to use the power of the purse to determine policy.” Well, there’s two things about that statement that strike me. One, of course, is the word “try.” Congress can try to shape policy by tightening up on spending, although they may not succeed. The other element is more interpretive. If the President were to change tactics, or otherwise alter the conduct of policy in Iraq, as a result of spending measures enacted by Congress, then he’s off the hook for any failure as a result of that change. Now, that doesn’t mean he has to follow precisely any strategic conditions attached to a spending bill, but it does mean that the new Democratic majority could walk right into a giant bear trap of blame over whatever Bush does in accepting those conditions. And then nobody wins. Except maybe the GOP in ’08.

Verdict
I agree with Malcolm Fraser: David Hicks is guilty not because he’s guilty, but because he must be guilty. (Note, for example, the charge of spying, insofar as it largely amounts to having collected information on the U.S. Embassy in Afghanistan – which was closed at the time.)

So Much for the BBQ Invite
Remember Paul Hogan throwing another “shrimp” on the barbie for the hoards of US visitors? Maybe not after 21 February, when Biosecurity Australia rules on whether the white spot virus poses a threat, and blocks all those cheap, Thai prawns to reduce the supply.

Circular Reasoning
As I said yesterday, the PM’s free to make as much of an ass of himself as he pleases, but he ought to apologize when he’s been insulting, as he has to Barak Obama and the Democrats now in the majority in Congress. He has, however, committed himself to the Iraq debacle, committed Australia in the first instance to causing the problems there now and exacerbating them by “sticking by” his ally. (Unfortunately, as Tim Dunlop continues to point out, Mr. Howard’s ally isn’t the U.S., but George Bush, mistaking a personal friendship for a larger political position of mutual support.) Now Defense Minister Brendan Nelson weighs in, explaining that Howard is just standing up for Australia by committing the nation to an indefinite tour of duty in Iraq.

"Only when we get through the next six, 12 months or whatever period of time it takes will we be in a position to make any reasonable and responsible judgement about whether the United States, Britain or anyone else is in a position to withdraw."

Round and round we go, and where we stop, well, we’ll know in six months. Or twelve. Or someday long in the future. But that’s not what’s really at issue. What matters is that John Howard knows he made a mistake joining the “Coalition of the Willing”, that Iraq was a disaster from the start, but that more and more of his constituents have also reached that conclusion and will blame him and the Liberals at the next election. Mr. Howard’s sounding increasingly like Donald Duck with a limp.

(Oh, and in case anyone was wondering how the Howard government’s domestic policies have been working out, ”WorkChoices” is putting the bite on women, hard, as well as harming employment growth and productivity.)

Weekend Politics
On the train coming home from Ikea Saturday, we ran into two fresh American ex-pats, in Sydney for a year now, lately working on a rap video for Anthony Mundine, and started up a conversion to recruit them into Democrats Abroad. They seemed very enthusiastic, and I hope they’ll come to a meeting, but I mention it because, now that Barak Obama is officially in the race, it was somewhat notable to me that they were suggestive of their support for Hillary Clinton, Obama’s biggest rival for the nomination.

That aside, Obama’s in, and he’s getting a lot of notice, including this latest nonsense from John Howard, interjecting himself in American politics, in a way that if an American was doing it during one of his campaigns, we hear plenty of complaints about. Is he going to start calling Obama “Osama” next? Mr. Gibbs, the Obama campaign spokesman, is right, up to a point, about the commitment to Iraq; although I don’t intend any criticism of the soldiers, on a pro rata basis, Australia’s troop deployment is 15% of America’s, and faces apparently far less immediate danger. Mr. Howard should just butt out. Or, as Obama suggests, supply more troops (although my calculations suggest only an additional 7-8,000, not 20,000).

otter drinking
Originally uploaded by eilidhmacaskill.

Too Good to Let Pass
I found this over at Crazybrave, and it reminded me of someone: my younger brother at about age 2. Except for the whiskers. Although now he's got a full set, so they probably look even more alike. (Photo by "eilidhmacaskill, who's got more.)

Big Time
Ol’ shoot-from-the-hip Dick “dead-eye” Cheney’s on his way to Australia to say “thanks” for the Australian troops in Iraq. He’ll be visiting between 22 and 27 February, so get your placards out. Suggested themes for the protest would be Iraq (of course), global warming, and gay rights (particularly regarding adoption, a re-newly contentious issue here in Australia, and marriage). The trial, or lack thereof, of David Hicks is also more than worth mentioning, although I sincerely doubt John Howard will bring it up. He’s happy, now that a trial date’s been set, although Hicks will be held to a different juridical standard than would apply in his native land. No doubt, the VP will apologize for taking 5 years to bring the kid to trial, and then go on to thank all Australia for having kangaroos, the inspiration for the type of jurisprudence to be applied in this case.

Wetlands, Drylands
Foreshore development on Sydney harbour has been controlled for many years, although that hasn’t really stopped a lot of buildings going up, mostly of the hugely expensive kind, but including some public projects. The city’s commitment to extending greenways on the foreshore has seen some positive change along Blackwattle Bay and Glebe, and we might once have hoped for even more. Except the State government doesn’t want things that way: they prefer development.

It’s not so long ago that the harbour was so thoroughly polluted that we aren’t yet still feeling the effects. Commercial fishing was recently halted, due to PCB’s, for example. The idea that huge developments may go up, adding to the problem of sewerage, let alone that new and existing home owners and commercial operators could extend access and boat use, ought to concern the entire city, but probably doesn’t, much, at least not yet. As so often, it will become more of a concern only after the problem has occurred.

We need better environmental managers in government. Look, the UN just put out a huge report about global warming and there are predictions that Sydney’s going to cop it bad. We should be working on every element of the city to see to it that we’re better off, all of us, not just the property developers and the cabin cruiser set. There’s an election in March, and normally I’d be glad of the current Premier’s commanding lead in the polls, but right now, my vote is tending elsewhere.

Climatological Notes
I was wrong about the Parramatta River fish ladder project. It seems what they’re doing is letting the river “fill” overnight, then letting it drain again during the day, as seen in these two photos, the first from this morning, the second from yesterday afternoon.

This must be a relief for the carp (some large ones are visible from overhead when the water’s low, and can be seen to struggle over ridges and weed clumps, looking for deeper pools), although the water fowl appear to benefit both ways. Of course, the benefits of the work may only prove effective for now.

Sovietization
By Executive Fiat, W has installed a political officer in every federal agency, having oversight of policy-related undertakings and reports to Congress. How very totalitarian. Didn’t the USSR have such functionaries? Yes, they did. So who really won the Cold War?

The Sydney Obsession
There is no escape. Absolutely everyone in Sydney talks about real estate. If you’re renting, you’re talking about buying; if you’re buying, you’re talking about what you’ve seen; if you own, you talk about your mortgage. Every gathering of any size is an opportunity. Every minute consideration is exhaustively examined, every triumph savored, every set-back wallowed in for whatever comforting horror stories you can receive in exchange for your own. It’s endless.

It doesn’t help that many of us take on mortgages that leave our disposable income in need of such tight controls that a weekend at the movies can nearly mean missing a payment, let alone that those on variable rates are subject to the inflationary measures of the Reserve Bank, pushing their repayments up and up to the breaking point. There are many mortgagee sales around the greater Sydney area, and an expectation of yet more to come. This would be a great time to buy, but the fact is that clearance rates have also fallen, whether for private treaty sales or auctions.

Meanwhile, somehow this has also meant that rental units are at an all-time low in availability, a situation exacerbated by the return of the university students, all in search of a cheap unit somewhere not too far from campus, preferably in Newtown, a suburb seemingly devoted to youth culture, but also Glebe and much of the rest of the Inner West. Competition is fierce. Renters line up at open viewings, and it’s pretty much first-come, first-served thereafter. Agents can’t be bothered to show units privately or to show up at showings on time, often enough. They’re rude, curt, dismissive of the concerns of people desperate for housing, especially at the “lower” end of the market – anything under $300 per week. Mind you, even $250 per week is over $1000 per month ($13000 annually), and to afford that you’re going to need a decent job. You will, after all, pay for electricity, food, transportation, and a phone, as well as an internet connection, potentially, and clothes, or laundry at least, various grooming requirements, and some relief in terms of entertainment. It all adds up pretty quickly, and taxes take a fair whack off the top of your wage, leaving little enough to begin with. Thank goodness there are still doctors who bulk-bill, but dentistry isn’t covered, and if you need a filling or crowns or a medical procedure that really can’t wait, some private health insurance isn’t a luxury.

So what can you get? Moldy carpets, chipped paint, plastic plumbing fixtures, and a kitchen that hasn’t been cleaned in a year or more (let alone windows that have), in a walk-up block of flats where the unit door doesn’t fit snugly in the jamb. We saw an amazing number of those when we were looking for our interim rental after we first moved to Sydney, and we were looking at the higher end of things. Units with no divider between the kitchen and the garage, like some new version of a peasant’s hovel, an automobile in place of the cow. Units where the investor-owner has bought the place purely for the negative-gearing, and so puts in no effort whatsoever to ensure a rental income, allowing the place to become run-down. Units where the developer has put no foresight into the design. I remember one place where renovations were made to add a bedroom in the space between the ceiling and the roof. This attic room would have been a valuable addition, except the stairs up to it took up three-quarters of the living room.

Will the unit be cleaned? No. Will it be painted? You can paint it if you want. Will something be done about the stain on the carpet that looks like the previous tenant brought their car engine in to rebuild it? It’s new. (Huh?)

Here’s my favorite: New York-style loft. It means small, with especially low ceilings, so a second level could be crammed in. (It’s like when you’re travelling outside New York City and see “New York-style pizza,” which just means nasty, lowest common denominator ingredients, and with a crust like cardboard.)

The thing is, however, that right now, renting is cheaper than buying. Short- and long-term. Right now, your money’s better off anywhere but in real estate, at least if what you’re trying to accomplish is having a place to live. If you’re capable of investing, it’s still worthwhile to have a unit or two, even if just to claim the negative gearing, let alone hanging on to it to sell when the market takes off again. The rich get richer, and the rest of us live in Ashfield.

Third Way
I read about Unity08 in this month’s Atlantic, and I’m thinking about signing up. Third parties have an interesting history in America, and not just because of Ralph Nader in 2000 or John Anderson (technically not a third party, just independent). There’s Teddy Roosevelt, of course, and H. Ross Perot, too. The idea of Unity08 – creating a centrist ticket by combining candidates from the two majors – is perhaps more akin to Anderson’s candidacy than it is to that of the others. And that’s the point where it falls apart for me. I don’t regard myself as committed to two-party politics. In Australia, where we’ve got a state election coming up in March, I’m more than a little open to voting Greens or Democrats rather than Labor (Liberal’s just right out). But they’re viable, established parties with a federal presence. While the Democrats have seen support shrink to nearly nothing, they’re still in there, and the Greens are doing pretty well, too, even if Peter Garrett took up Labor’s preselection offer in the last federal election. If I am going to vote for a third party candidate in the U.S., it’s because the candidate has the political appeal, the policies I support. Unity08 seems like more of the kind of nonsense that had Democrats in the U.S. trying to draft John McCain. Bipartisanship is all well and good, but a bipartisan ticket? Sounds like somebody’s been watching too much ”West Wing” (or, worse, ”Commander in Chief). Nevertheless, I like the process, I like the possible effects, and I especially like the participatory intentions. Maybe I’ll try out for delegate from Australia.

Diplomatic Incident
I think it can be safely assumed that Amanda Vanstone won’t be posted to Indonesia or any other country from which refugees come to Australia.

I Pledge Allegiance
Growing up in “love it or leave it” America, I always found the zealotry around the U.S. flag rather excessive, although I was thoroughly imbued with the principles of respect embodied in law: don’t let the flag touch the ground, don’t burn the flag, don’t mutilate the flag, don’t fly the flag upside-down except as a distress signal, take your hat off and put your hand over your heart when saluting the flag or reciting the pledge of allegiance or singing the national anthem. . . . It’s still all a little excessive, but patriotism is very important to Americans. At university, I took a course studying the First Amendment, the one about freedom of speech, and had to read excepts of Supreme Court decisions overturning arrests, prosecutions, and laws regarding the misuse of the flag: protestors wearing a flag patch over their crotch or burning a flag on the steps of one courthouse or another or in front of their draft board’s offices. As a result, a lot of the 1960’s-70’s jingoism the flag had come to embody was lost, watering down the flag’s iconic status, not wholly, but enough. The flag was something you saw at civic assemblies and sporting events and didn’t pay much attention to. Then we had September 11 and the flag was everywhere. M. and I both remember this one tow truck we’d often see, cruising up and down the avenues, covered with flags, large and small, whipping out behind the truck as it went by. We also remember the Sikh cab drivers who found themselves so fearful of being mistaken for Muslims they’d put a flag decal or sticker up in the cab, visible to their passengers, hoping to deflect a conversation or confrontation over what should be done to terrorists.

M. tells me the Australian flag was never so ubiquitous as it was after we moved here, post-Bali, and I well remember the high visibility it gained during the Cronulla riots. That was pretty scary, but what was worse was how the government dog-whistled their support for the bigots abusing their flag. And now they’re at it again.

The Big Day Out is a music festival. It travels around the capital cities during the summer, including the Sydney Australia Day weekend concert. Name acts from around the world participate, as well as local bands getting a bit of exposure. It’s not quite the same thing as Homebake, a multi-band concert devoted to promoting Australian performers, but it’s very popular. Last year, the Big Day Out took place not long after the Cronulla riots and there was some trouble with drunken Neanderthals promoting their own violent version of patriotism. This year, BDO has, in effect banned the flag.

Well, not really, unless you’re a politician and can’t read, or a patriotic zealot and can’t be bothered to read, or a bigot intent on promoting hate and violence.

It isn’t a government-sponsored event, and flying the flag isn’t a prerequisite for staging the shows, and if trouble-makers made the flag a security issue last year, the organizers are within their rights to request that concert attendees don’t cause a similar problem again this year. If you want to bring a flag to a gathering, stage it yourself or go to a patriotic event.

Maybe we need a nice Jimi Hendrix version of “Advance, Australia Fair” to lighten things up.

Cleaned Water
When I started back to work after our holiday on the Central Coast, I immediately made a note to bring my digital camera along the next day, after seeing the Parramatta River from the Church Street bridge. I’d seen the river over its banks many times since starting this job, but that Tuesday, there suddenly wasn’t much water, the flood-control embankments visible, the weeds drying in the sun, and fish visible in the center, circling in remaining pools where there remained some depth. Also, unretrieved shopping trolleys, a bit weedier than this one. It took a couple of days before I found out that the upper reaches had been drained to allow new fish ladders to be built, since there was no sign of construction. Too late, as it turns out, because today, the water’s back, even though the ladders aren’t due for completion for two more months yet. It’s just as well, though; the fish didn’t seem happy. I’m not certain if the clean-up mentioned in the Council’s website was particularly complete, but I’ll assume they pulled the trash they could reach.

Dreamgirls
It was so stinkin’ hot over the weekend that it was impossible to stay away from the movies, and since we already had free tickets in hand for Sunday’s screening of Rock ‘n’ Roll Heart, the Lou Reed biopic from 1998 (showing at the Chauvel, in Paddington, as part of the Sydney Festival), we headed out on Saturday afternoon for this must-see musical. Now I’ve found Dad’s theory regarding the transition of Broadway show to movie, that it should be accomplished within a year of the show’s close or the movie will suffer, to be reliable, but while Dreamgirls came in 1981 and went in 1985, whatever it took to bring this to the screen was worth waiting this long for. I didn’t see Chicago, the last movie touted as the revival of the movie musical, but I don’t care if I never do. From the first song, I was hooked, and that was before the Dreamettes took the stage and even before Eddie Murphy came out. Frankly, while every song and every performer in this movie is top notch, Eddie Murphy supplies the performance of his life and pretty nearly steals the show. He does it all, from James Brown to Marvin Gaye, and in his dramatic performance moments puts in an effort we’ve come to never expect him capable of. Yeah, Jamie Foxx is a good actor, but Murphy? Yeah, he is. Beyoncé Knowles transforms into Diana Ross so well it’s spooky, and Jennifer Hudson, well, for a girl who didn’t do well (if she didn’t do badly) in “American Idol,” it turns out she can act and sing. Not all the songs are brilliant – I mostly enjoyed the early stuff (and yes, the Dreams wouldn’t have toured China) but every song was used to good effect in driving the plot, both narratively and cinemagraphically, and the whole thing was immensely enjoyable.

Community-Minded
Last night, someone (Sara, the Bargain Queen) finally got around to organizing a Meet-up for Sydney webloggers, the first in quite some time that I’m aware of. There were probably about a dozen of us around the table, although interestingly, not all bloggers, and three of whom work in public relations, one in particular, visiting Sydney to watch his son compete in the Youth Olympics, making up, along with a Sydneysider on a home visit and myself, a New York contingent.

(It’s funny, but I have trouble sometimes distinguishing American accents, on television or in person, from Australian, other than very broad or very strong regional accents, something I attribute to having become accustomed to the overall Australian “voice” while [or “whilst” as is the common usage here] having a U.S. accent myself. It took me a moment or two to realize he was from back in the States. I think he’ll regret only spending a week here, as well as his having succumbed to the tourist syndrome of failing to apply adequate amounts of sunblock.)

What was more interesting than such coincidences was that so many of those attending don’t maintain a personal blog, such as this one, but are more focussed on professional blogs or actual websites, as distinct from blogs in the content. the Bargain Queen, for example, follows a traditional blogging format, but its content is devoted to generating revenues, presumably through advertising and affiliate sales and referrals. If it does well, it could do very well indeed, and if it does just o.k., it could still generate a fairly substantial, if purely supplementary income. It also provides a clearing house of shopping and fashion-related links some of which even I find of interest. After all, I’m going to have to re-cover the cat’s favorite sofa sooner rather than later, for example.

So, Trevor Cook has a blog, but its focus is on blogging’s contribution to public relations, often from a back-handed method, pointing out the breadth and depth of blogs as media, but, like Peter Himler, keeping a distinct web presence from the office website, while On Voice Over uses the blog format more in the way Sara does, although with a focus on creative design, particularly with the internet in view. The other PRblogger, Steven Noble, runs Elbow Grease within the context of the firm, although the content reads in the more usually experienced blog “voice.”

Meanwhile, Luke Matcalfe’s Rapid Intelligence is producing some amazing content: Nation Master and State Master, for example, which provide statistical and comparative data on a wealth of topics (is Texas really the biggest oil-consuming state in the U.S., or does that include processing as consumption?). Fact Bites and Qwika provide alternatives to other internet search engines.

I didn’t talk to everyone, but I’d go again just to see who turns up, and what internet trends they represent. Even if I did feel a bit like a 1980’s “home-pager.”

Closing in on 2008
While a lot of what goes on in the media focuses on how early the Presidential campaign season starts, it does take a lot of time and attention, from voters, that is. Or it should. All politics is local, as Tip O’Neill said, which means we mostly only know the politicians having some personal effect on us individually. As much as the President has a national profile, it’s the repercussions of his actions and policies that mean anything to us. “Congress” exists as a collective entity not unlike the circus. It’s only after some spectacular clowning that we notice anything in particular happening there, unless our Rep. or Senator brings home some tasty pork that doesn’t just get eaten up in the State House. But some of these politicians achieve national notoriety separately from previous runs at the White House. John Kerry went into government with a name and stayed more or less in the national consciousness, which should have helped him more than it did, when he ran in ’04. John Edwards, on the other hand, was known mainly to the media pundits, until he threw his hat into the ring. Now, he’s a contender. Barak Obama, on the other hand, stood up and delivered an address at the Democratic National Convention, and now he may run for President. And he could win, too, even against Hillary Clinton or Edwards, both of whom are often touted as favorites. Frankly, I’d rather any of these three than Biden or Kerry, and I don’t consider Dennis Kuchinich especially viable. Whether Governors Vilsack or Richardson can turn their executive credentials in their favor remains to be seen. Meanwhile, a solid announcement from any outstanding candidacy-contemplators would be worthwhile, if just so we’re not left cramming for the election too late in the piece to get a good handle on why one or another of them deserve the job, let alone who presents the best chance of taking on whomever the Republicans throw up. Much as I like Obama, he’s going to take some studying.

Tuesday Cat Blogging
If I work at it, I could have a nice cat-blog, instead of one full of political outrage. I would, however, have to have the camera at hand more often and then force the cats to do cute things worth photographing. If I'm going to do that, however, wouldn't it be better to video them and try to win the cash prize on "Australia's Funniest Home Videos"?

Tanned, Rested, and Ready for Retirement
We've just spent four days at Kim's Beach Hideaway, at Toowoon Bay, up the Central Coast. My God, this has been the best vacation I've ever had. Even though we took the least expensive option available - midweek, off-the-beach instead of beachfront semi-attached bungalow - I have trouble only in failing to imagine going back again and for longer. Three buffet meals a day, and a bell rung at the dining hour, with cocktails at seven, hundred-year-old Norfolk pines lining the central walkway, bamboo and Balinese gardens, and the beach just an arm's length (or short walk, anyway) away, I could picture myself a new Ernest Hemingway (if only it was as cheap as Cuba back then). The food was never short of wonderful and plentiful. The beach stretched for miles. And if we were slightly plagued by a surfiet of seaweed, and if the water was perhaps cooler than average this past week, it didn't matter. Father-in-law Russell and cousin-in-law Don separately threw money at us for Christmas to pay for exactly this, after all our medical travails in 2006, and for four days, we recouped every agony. Well, sort of, at least as far as it's possible to do so. I'll be saving money this year to go again as soon as possible. What I think I'd really like is to spend a week in winter and really settle into a little writerly fantasy. I'll remember to bring my own cocktails, though, seeing as how the booze is more than a little pricey. Worth every damn penny, just the same.

What Good's an Attorney General if He Won't Read an Indictment?
Phillip Ruddock has been busy these last few years, blaming David Hicks for his own incarceration, claiming it's the appeals that have left Hicks rotting in Guantanamo. Meanwhile, he never asked for, never read any bill of indictment, and so has no real idea if there's an indictable offense at work. So when he, or his master, the Prime Minister, fail to even ask, let alone demand (as Tony Blair did for his own citizens) the release of David Hicks, it's because they can't. They haven't got the guts to face down George Bush. A greater group of cowards has never before run a country, and it's Australia's great shame they keep putting this goons back into power. For what? Mortgage rates? Or fear of Muslims?

What Next
So, another year's anniversary in Iraq approaches, and, after all the "Study Group's" work, what we have is an increase, an escalation, another 20,000 troops sent into harm's way, and where is this all coming from, let alone where's it supposed to get us? Speculation has it that the so-called surge is at the behest of the Iraqi government, perhaps seeking to at least get Bahgdad under control, and that may be, since it's pretty clearly not the Baker group's consensus or the Pentagon's or anything like the conventional wisdom, if anyone takes that seriously. Maybe Bush is making it up himself, and that's likely, too, since that's pretty much how we got into this predicament in the first place: he's the decider, remember? I caught David Brooks on the SBS broadcast of the News Hour, and he's doing the usual Republican song-and-dance: it's all well and good to be critical, but until somebody else (a Democratic candidate for the 2008 Presidential election) actually proposes a policy, there's nothing else to do than keep on doin'. Bull. Bush and his cronies and handlers and corporate masters got us into this neo-Vietnam quagmire, so it's up to them, to him, the decider, to get us out, to fix this and move on. Instead, he's got the new Secretary of State, the death's head, Condoleeza Rice, proposing an escalation against Syria and Iran. How thoroughly reminiscent of the 70's does Bush propose to go? It's Laos and Cambodia all over again, although at least this time, it isn't Iraq using extra-national territory, but actual state players interferring in the war, crossing borders themselves. How Bush can keep this from playing out into Road Warrior scenarios, with general Middle East conflict becoming global conflagation, has never yet been articulated. Of course, articulation isn't exactly this President's strong suit, is it? It's time to go. Get out of Iraq.

Tick, Tick, Tick
Congratulations to the new Democratic leadership and incoming freshmen. The first 24 of Representative Nancy Pelosi’s 100 Hours is underway, and the Republicans are already mounting the traditional Opposition High Horse. I hope our new Speaker gets through at least some of her agenda, including what mostly sounds like a worthy effort on addressing the 9/11 Commission’s recommendations for “homeland security.”

Proven to Prevent Tooth Decay
Back when the threat of communism was everywhere, pinko governments fluoridated the drinking water, and the next thing you knew, the scourge of cavities was eradicated. O.k., well, fluoride toothpaste, brushing after meals, flossing, and visiting the dentist twice a year helped, but we all know that if you're worried about you children's teeth, make sure they drink plenty of tap water.

Look, seriously, we have socialized medicine in this country (or we did, until the Howard government started its push to get everyone signed up into private cover), and, with all the studies that have shown a link between dental health and general health, it would make sense to extend the program to cover preventive dental care. Of course, this is an area where the medical coverage providers are making a bit of money for themselves/their shareholders, so it's not likely to happen. I wonder how many of his own teeth the Rodent still has?

Season's Entertainment
As soon as Christmas was past, M. & I headed up to Darlinghurst to Govindas (the best entertainment bargain in all Sydney, and very comfy) for The Devil Wears Prada, which was terrifically entertaining. It had one of the very best performances I've ever seen from Meryl Streep, so much so that even though I didn't believe the ending, in any of its particulars, I really didn't care. As much as I enjoyed Andy's narrative arc, I watched it for Miranda Priestly. What a character. See this movie soon.

(Oh, and I do wish the Hare Krishnas would upgrade their projection equipment; the reel change-overs were pretty jumpy, and a little distracting, although not as bad as the group of twenty who came in thinking the whole place was just like their lounge room. I blame DVD's, myself.)

I Hereby Commit a Blatant Act of Plagiarism
Copyright law’s a funny thing. What’s fair use? Sometimes, it seem, that precept doesn’t even exist anymore. The Australian Federal Court has now determined that linking to copyrighted material is an actionable infringement. While the ruling was delivered in the context of a case involving music downloads, all the defendant did was provide links to sites offering downloads, not the downloads themselves, so the ruling now makes bloggers potential targets if anyone uses a link to copyrighted material to publish or make other unauthorized use of that content, including my link, above, to the Sydney Morning Herald. Not only that, but comments containing links left on a blog are also the responsibility of the blog operator or owner. Do I care? I do not. Go ahead, link some stuff in comments. I’ll do the same in the posts.

The Approach to Christmas
We’ve been getting a variety of personal matters out of the way, to the degree such things are even possible, and keeping busy therefore during the run-up to Christmas, when we’ll be hosting M.’s brother’s family (or anyway the parents and youngest members thereof) for Xmas eve. Given that we’ve been so occupied, there’s been a welcome reduction in the ‘what am I getting for Chrissie’ barrage usually endured from about the time the decorations go up in stores to first thing in the morning 25 December. Now that the day is so close, I can probably anticipate recognition of the uselessness of such inquiries. Right.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, the AWB got their present early: their bribes to Saddam Hussein were not bribes and therefore tax-deductible (which isn’t stopping the lawsuits in the States or the U.S. Federal government delisting AWB); the NSW Labor party continues to be wracked by scandals large and small and leading the Premier to delist one after another of his party’s sitting members. Will anyone be left to vote? Thank goodness we’re headed for the Christmas break. Also, it seems that England’s performance in the Ashes (that’s a major cricketing event between us, one we’ve been winning a lot lately, but lost last year in England, and won back this year in 3 straight tests out of 5) have produced a win of sorts, with the highly regarded spin-bowler, Shane Warne, now set to retire at the end of the series, and Glenn McGrath (ooh, ah, Glenn McGrath) due to announce his resignation from Test cricket thereafter. Happy Christmas, England. We got back the little urn, but you’ve worn out some of our top players. Or something like that.

Tales of the Flying Kangaroo
Qantas used to be the national airline of Australia, and it still has exclusive rights to many of the major direct air routes to and from the country. Not long ago, in 2002, it undertook a redevelopment project for some billions of dollars, for which it required the government to relieve the airline of restrictions on foreign majority-shareholders (and part of which program was to buy a significant stake in Air New Zealand). Most of the socialized capitalist democracies seem to have undertaken a program to divest themselves of national assets in favor of private enterprise, something Qantas went through, from what I can tell, around 1992. I’m not at all certain at this point who’s got what, although foreign ownership is presently limited to 49% total, but Qantas is up for sale, and it’s a consortium of Macquarie Bank and a big Texas outfit. While there are no plans for breaking up the airline or laying off personnel, that’s just what they’re saying now, and the CEO’s statement that “if we don't be more efficient going forward, our competitive situation will not be strong” in the context of the buy-out, is suggestive that it’s all about the share price, and we all know what that means. Whether or not Qantas maintains its government-supported dominance seems an open question at this point. Will the sale go through? If it does, is there any incentive to keep the restrictions on other airlines in place? Well, the T3 sale of the government’s remaining shares of Telstra appears to have been a success, although there’s been little enough effect on services, so maybe this one’s a go-er, too. And how’s the food these days, anyway?

Monday Friday Cat Blogging
It’s been a while since anyone’s seen Felix, so here’s his alpha cat activity: riding my shoulder as we walk through the apartment.

It’d be better for me if he’d stick to one shoulder, but he feels better wrapped around my neck like a stole. I’m going to have to get some heavy turtlenecks. (Yeah, I'm not sure which of us looks craziest, but the votes'll probably be against me; I'm the one being surfed by a cat.)

Super Size
In the three years M. and I lived together in NYC it was a common experience for her to receive a meal in a restaurant that was significant larger than she was accustomed to from dining in Australia, a reciprocal experience I can attest to following our relocation to Sydney. Science has now confirmed that portion control has become uncontrolled over the last 20 years, making, for example, every sandwich a Stage/Carnegie Deli sandwich (so imagine what’s been happening at those infamously overstuffed venues). O.k., it’s not just an issue of restaurants, but of how we feed ourselves, and the study has shown we load up our plates more than ever before, along with using bigger plates. What’s been even more interesting to me, apropos my role as culture-clash commentator, is that serving size is on the rise here, perceptibly so, since our arrival in 2002. Maybe the fashion in restaurants to use large plates as a presentation palette, a Nouvelle Cuisine innovation, has led to a corresponding rise in diners’ expectations, as the U.S. study suggests. Certainly, an enormous dish with a bit of tenderloin or whatever stacked up and surrounded by decorative squiggles of sauce and sprinkled with chopped chives looks a little lonely, whereas a great slab of t-bone accompanied by a baked potato and some mixed veggies has the satisfying appeal of getting your money’s worth. As much as I appreciate the artistry of making the fish look like it’s leaping off the plate in a spray of julienned green papaya, it also makes eating the thing into a planned campaign of deconstruction, and I’m just not that post-modern. Presentation used to be a sprig of parsley, now chefs appear to be applying skills learned from a post-graduate fine arts degree, and menu prices have increased accordingly. Maybe this is why I like Italian restaurants so much: by-and-large, this is a cuisine well past trickery, although Domino’s keeps trying with pizzas.

So childhood obesity is on the rise here, and everybody’s looking for answers, whether it’s governmental regulation of fast food advertising on television or better labelling of packaged foods in the supermarket (or, in the case of the incumbent government, doing nothing and letting the market work itself out, such as we’ve seen in McDonald’s, where the wrappers come pre-printed with nutritional statistics and the walls are plastered with disinformation campaign posters and nobody reads either of them, but ”Make Up Your Own Mind”™).

I once heard it said that the Keen’s mustard empire made their fortune on the smears people left on their plates, and I understand the economics of that. Nevertheless, we could always leave a little on our plates, take less from the salad bar or buffet, and think before we cook. That could work, too.

Iraqization
The Study Group results are in and, like so many others, they say we should get out of Iraq. Leaving aside whether or not we should have gone there in the first place, the plan is rather full of “if’s,” as it must be, under the circumstances. “If” Iran controls it borders and stops fuelling the insurgency, “if” Syria does the same – these are two in particular that I see as significant problems. Iran and Syria don’t much have a history of non-interference when it comes to their neighbors’ sovereignity, let alone how they conduct themselves in relation to terrorism. To simply reject these elements out of hand – “talking isn’t a strategy,” according to National Security Advisor, Stephen Hadley – doesn’t move the situation towards a resolution, however, unless you count civil war and a new, centrally located Arab terrorism national base as a resolution (and OBL and his minions are probably the only ones seeing that as a positive). And I have to agree with Bush on troop withdrawals, at least insofar as they are not going to be “graceful.” While I think we can avoid the helicopters on the roof scenes right out of Saigon, withdrawing is graceless: we made a mess of the country and can’t stay around to clean up after ourselves. We can, nevertheless, come back when the violence is finished and then do the reconstruction work that we’ve failed in since the days of “Mission Accomplished.” At least now there’s a plan. Is it any use wondering what Bush will do with it?

Bear Essentials
Many years ago, my siblings and I discovered a stash of Rupert Annuals in the basement of our Aunt Jill, who had brought them from her native England for her children to enjoy. Here was a strange menagerie of British (if just in nationality) creatures: animals who dressed and behaved as humans while retaining their distinctive animal features. Edgar Trunk, for example, the elephant boy, had a trunk and tusks and elephant ‘arms’, just as Rupert Bear himself had a muzzle and round, furry ears at the top of his head. Rupert, however, had human hands, no doubt because, as the lead character, he would be required to manipulate objects and interact with other creatures in and around the town of Nutwood, including some humanoids and post-humans (as the current parlance is in the Marvel Universe of underwear perverts formerly known as superheroes), in particular elves, Santa Claus, and Chinese magicians, and to do so without mauling them. Poor Edgar, on the other (ahem) hand, was left without even fingers, let alone an opposable thumb. Many years later, when the Counsellor’s children discovered Rupert, I first heard indications of the eldest daughter’s incipient interest in logic: if Rupert Bear has human hands, what kind of feet does he have? True enough, Rupert was never seen (ahem again) bare-footed, only shod. Even if he was at the beach, if he was seen near or in the water, his feet were kept out of sight. His new incarnation is no different, at least in that respect. Just sayin’ is all.

Changing Horses
This morning the Australian Labor Party votes on whether they want the incumbent, Kim Beazley, or the challenger, Kevin Rudd, as the new leader of the party going into next year’s federal election. Kim’s had two shots at Howard already, but after being dumped in favor of Simon Crean, himself dumped for Mark Latham, who lost the last election against Howard, there’s been a lot of media talk about Labor’s chances in 2008, mostly negative, mostly based on Kim’s performance, and despite a growing trend in the polls showing Labor leading against the Coalition. So with a 6-point lead, why shake up the leadership?

There’s been a little bit of speculation that’s it’s a ruse, a way for Beazley to quash further leadership disputes and media nonsense, most of which has centered on Rudd replacing Beazley, or Gillard, for that matter, who is running as Rudd’s deputy. That makes a certain amount of sense. There are a substantial number of swing voters who’d vote Labor if they believed Kim was the leader the party needed, but who have bought into Howard’s old line about Kim’s lack of “ticker” for the job of PM. I don’t buy any of it.

It seems to me that this is a genuine challenge based on the perception of job performance. I think Beazley’s got the stamina and determination to be PM and that he’d do a good job, but I also think that Rudd, along with much of the media and a substantial part of the Labor faithful, see Kim’s performance as lacking. It’s true; I think he’s failed to stand up and capitalize on issues where Howard’s vulnerable, at least to the extent I’d prefer, but in some cases at all. It’s not like I’m watching Question Time, or that I have a good idea of the day-to-day operations of Parliament, and I have to factor in what I see as the media’s bias in favor of Iron John – the news tends to focus on Howard’s invulnerability and the mythos of his status as the most brilliant politician of the modern age. Or something. The opposition, particularly Beazley, just don’t get as much time on the air or in the papers, except for their missteps. It doesn’t matter about the war in Iraq, the incompetent performance and ludicrous cover-up over the AWB or any of the outright lies Howard’s used to divide the nation; he’s untouchable, his every word swallowed delightedly and regurgitated for the masses.

This is why Rudd’s got a chance, as much as why I don’t like his timing. Beazley’s vulnerable but the party’s strong. If the electorate prefers Howard as PM but also the ALP as government, then the ALP with a more popular leader ought to be able to topple the Liberals at last. Rudd’s gotten plenty of attention as a potential alternative, and now we’ll see if it comes about, but what the effect will be, now that the only story in the papers through to the election is going to be Labor’s leadership problems, is anyone’s guess.

This Just in: Rudd's in, pretty decisively, too.