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.
07 March 2007
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.)
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.)
03 March 2007
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.
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.
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.
02 March 2007
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.
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.
01 March 2007
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.)
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.)
26 February 2007
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.
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.
25 February 2007
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.
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.
24 February 2007
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?
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?
23 February 2007
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.
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.
21 February 2007
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.
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.
16 February 2007
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.
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.)
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.
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.
13 February 2007
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.
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.)
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.)
12 February 2007
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).
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).
08 February 2007
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.)
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.)
05 February 2007
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.
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.
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.
01 February 2007
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.
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.
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