Down in Front
I have been an habitue of live performances for many years and derive great enjoyment from them. Some theatrical events have been nearly life-changing in their effect: I am still able to return to the thrilling sensation with which I left the Brooklyn Academy of Music's Majestic Theatre following an all-night performance of Peter Brook's Mahabarata. Sometimes, the performance has been enjoyable and no more, other times I've witnessed just flat-out bad theatre, dance, music, whatever (that's a category, too). The curtain call is often an opportunity to get a look at the cast while they're not moving and speaking, and this is part of the experience as well (and beats the headshots in the Playbill). Applause, I've come to conclude, is like tipping. If the dining experience is good, tip well; if it's very good, tip very well; if it's bad, tip, but tip minimally. In theatre, applaud for the good stuff, stand up for the extraordinary, and leave after the first curtain call when it's been bad. Yes, you should always clap - the actors tried, or the director did, or the stagehands . . . somebody was working at any rate and deserves to feel some acknowledgement of the effort. But you don't have to give everybody a standing ovation at every performance. It's just not possible for everyone to get an A+ every time. In this, I join the public denunciation of the inevitable as it now seems to be, and call upon audiences to sit down for God's sake.

The Employment Process
I've been working in Human Resources a long time now, specializing in database systems, so I'm as familiar with the ins and the outs of the process perhaps even a bit more than many. It came as a surprise, then, that the Catholic Education Office didn't even bother with a second interview, but went straight to the job offer. Just in time for Christmas, too. I'd been looking at a couple of other jobs, and had even interviewed: with Prada (but that was a long shot and wasn't going to pay well), with the University of Technology, Sydney (walk to work: what's not to like?), and a niche HR software development and consulting outfit looking to make a presence in Australia (travel, and a lot of it). The Catholics are the only ones who made an offer and they acted two days after my interview. I suppose I have my referees to thank as much as my qualifications, not to mention my desperate need for new employment. As the product of 12 years' education in the Catholic system, I should do like the athletes (Hi, Mom!) and thank God, too, but I think it's tacky. Tonight we'll celebrate a little - the job doesn't start until the end of January, so we still need to be careful with money. Maybe we'll get a pizza. Meanwhile, because I've taken a pay-cut, too, a little extra revenue won't hurt. Visitors are hereby notified of the following changes to our fee schedule: each time you pet the cat, it's a dollar. Thank you for your patronage.

Faith and Hats
France's move toward banning religious garb is mean-spirited, foolish, even stupid, and just plain wrong. No one is protected, and only those whose faith includes precepts regarding apparel are affected, institutionalizing descrimination. It is antisemitic and anti-Muslim. France has evidently decided that democratic socialism and fascism are compatible. They aren't, and the French are likely to find out about it the hard way. Les Idiotes.

How to Keep Yourself Entertained During Lulls in the Hunt
Riding the trains or busses out to various places around town as I seek new employment, besides the newspaper I try to ensure I am well-stocked with reading matter. I got a little tired of lugging massive hardcover books around, although it is good to get back to some of these volumes after years of neglect and having to say, yes, I did read it, but I don't remember exactly what it was like, so I guess someday I'll have to re-read it, but not right now, because I'm reading something new. This led me to pull down one of the books I got during my phase of buying and reading pretty much anything Penguin published in their Contemporary American Fiction series of the mid-1980's, Paul Auster's City of Glass. In this novel, Auster writes of a psychotic father and religious scholar's attempt to discover the original, prelapsarian language of man, i.e., the language of God. Scarey, then, that later in the week, while on an excursion in Newtown, I ran across a branch of Elizabeth's Used Books and the first thing I saw was a book by Umberto Eco on exactly that subject. Perhaps, instead of North America, the new Jerusalem will end up located in this other, old new place. I'll have to think about this and 'blog about it more. It's a fun topic.

Space Odessey
As I recall, the original conception of the spaceship used in Kubrick's 2001 to send a manned mission to Jupiter included the use of atomic explosions to propel the craft, but controversy of some sort eliminated that detail. Two years later, and proposed for no earlier than a year beyond Arthur C. Clarke's sequel, 2010, a nuclear-powered Jupiter orbiter is being proposed. No HAL, no Bowman, no mysterious obelisk, though, unless there's something we're not hearing.

Down in the Root Cellar
It's a good thing for Iraq, ultimately, that Hussain has been captured at last. "A hole in a farmyard" makes his hiding place sound more degrading than a "specially outfitted root cellar" would, and I guess that's the point, much the way Bush I regularly and deliberately mispronounced the ex-dictator's name in the 1990's so it sounded like the Arabic for "shoeshine boy." It's a smug kind of political expedient, and I hate the way it's going to give Bush II an edge in November 2004, or even just a boost right now. Hussain's capture does not justify the war. It just closes a chapter in a dirty little story. I'll have to keep an eye on the reactions from the opposition candidates.

P.S., I did enjoy the description of where they're holding Hussain: in an undisclosed location. Isn't that where Cheney is?

Dept. of Full Disclosure Addendum: O.k., so he really was in a hole. The SMH reports he tried to bury himself in the floor of the root cellar.

Our Tax Dollars at Work
Colin Powell has appointed James Brown Secretary of Soul, Foreign Minister of Funk. Huh. I feel good. Yow.

SHX
After the venerable Ian Rilen's stint as the resident musician at the Surry Hills Excelsior (during which time we were able to go see Penny Ikinger for a guest appearance, Louis Tillet has taken over Sunday evenings, gathering a band and performing new material and old and generally doing a service to pub music in Sydney. We got to spend a little time chatting, as he's a long-time friend of M.'s, and we hope to see him socially soon, not to mention catching up on another Sunday, perhaps while our first international visitor is here. Louis is a terrific musician, singer-songwriter as well, with a very jazzy feel, which is a direction I'd like to see him explore further. At AU$5 a head, it's the cheapest musical outing in town, and well worth a stroll up the road.

Look What the Cat Dragged In
Yes, the link in the heading is a gratuitous plug for “Abbie the Cat Has a Posse,” but no, I’m not going to write about my own companion animal (a nervous little creature), despite the investment she represents in my daily life. Actually, this post’s title is a touch of self-referential acknowledgement that it’s been a long time between entries on the ‘blog. Well, what has there been to ‘blog about? Since my employer folded its project tent and sent me on my merry way along with a hundred others like me, I’ve been looking for work, looking for ways of looking for work, and so forth. I’ve also managed to re-read a few books I haven’t looked at in a decade or three, and there’s been enough money in the kitty to rent a video now and then, and I’ve been spending enough time at home that taking over a bit more cooking has just been natural. I’d like to lounge around the beach or out on the balcony more often than I’ve managed so far, especially with a coldie (beer) or a vodka-tonic. That it’s been raining non-stop for the last two weeks has put a crimp in those plans, as has my ingrained work ethic, a sense of self highly dependent upon having a job.

What particularly galls me is how much this period of unemployment has altered my ability to enjoy my new hometown. Sydney is a wonderful place – comments on previous posts notwithstanding (yes, we don’t have Katz’s, but there are other places, and they’re not a constant and evident breach of health codes the minute you set foot there, and no, I don’t argue for Sydney’s ranking as a place to live by its tourist population, but then we don’t get the same level of as some other places to begin with). But this is my home now and I actually do – surprise, surprise – love it, warts and all. I could take a train from the Upper East Side out to Coney, or I could take half the time on a bus and swim in pristine Pacific Ocean and loll on cigarette butt-less white sand beaches. I could cab over to the theatre district and have some second-rate Thai, or just practically step out my door here and get Asian cuisine fresher and more authentic than any I’ve ever had before. Not to mention that the beer – even the cheap stuff – is head and shoulders above anything outside of the local microbrewery anywhere in the U.S. Hah. That’ll fix you.

Look, not that anyone needs fixing so much. Well, maybe. But what do you actually know about it? My guess is that 90% of those who come here would love to come back and more than half of them would like to stay forever. I have never lived or visited an urban environment anywhere else so clean or so leisurely. The pressure’s off (or it would be if I was working) and there’s so much to enjoy. Not everyplace in the world is New York, but I don’t miss it (o.k., weirdly, I did have some strong feelings arise after watching Spike Lee’s 25th Hour, but that’s mostly because it was largely set in my old neighborhood, and Lee got the feel of the city and living there better than any movie I think I’ve ever seen before). I have a home, and it’s here, and we’re all just going to have to deal with it. But let’s all be honest, too, o.k.? You don’t have to like it; you don’t even have to visit. I do like it, and I’d love it if you want to come enjoy it with me.

Just don’t scare my cat.

Dear Sir or Madam
I know how this feels. (Another useful tidbit unearthed by the folks at Metafilter.)

Disney and the Trains
Remember that Hong Kong subway decorated with Disney characters? No, never mind, it doesn’t matter. But in case you missed it: the MTA in NYC went and joined the advertising onslaught, if only temporarily, with its theme-train entry of the Times Square-Grand Central shuttle done up with ents, hobbits, etc. All this for a DVD. I can understand if you really, really want to go ride that train: you are a geek.

PS: I can also understand if you go and ride the PATH train today: you want to commemorate the resumption of service to the World Trade Center.

I Am Matisse
O.k., the collage machine is more Colorforms(tm) than Rauchenberg (and it's for kids, but shut up), still it's pretty fun and a nicer use of Shockwave software than you'll see more often than not. So go ahead, play with the pre-set forms, pretty colors, and cut up a caper.

Memento Mori
Of the 8 designs for the WTC memorial, as much as I like the votive candles (a maintenance nightmare), my preference runs towards the outdoor designs (except the Mya Lin knock-off). Some of the indoor memorials are effective, evocative, emotive, etc., but they tend to make me feel a bit oppressed. And I'm not even a claustrophobe. Perhaps it would be different being there, and I concede a park-like setting might be less inspiring of reflection.

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi!
This sports-related chant will soon replace the former Number 1: "U-S-A, U-S-A . . ." following the results of a BBC poll in which Australia outranks the US for must-visit tourist destinations, particularly in ranking Sydney over New York. What else is on the list? #13 - Uluru vs. #15 - Niagra Falls; the Great Barrier Reef at #1 is ranked well above #23 - Yosemite, which is probably enough of a disparity to also account for #24 - Hawaii. If not, we'll have to find a way to get the Whitsunday's on the list. Since New Zealand should probably be part of Australia anyway, let's also add #4 - South Island to compete with #3 - Florida; #25 Aukland vs. #7 - Las Vegas (and how did they make the list anyway? It's all cigarette smoke, neon, and eyeball-drying heat). Look, I'm just pleased my new city outranks my old city, really.

Welcome to the Sydney Real Estate Market
Government sponsored housing developments here in Sydney might perhaps be the envy of those administering or living in other such projects back in the U.S., scattered as they are throughout the entire municipality, including the most desirable areas, low rise, low density (mostly - there area couple of notable exceptions around town, one of which belongs in a science fiction prison movie), and except for the cheap brick that characterizes their facade, not entirely unattractive: they could be condos (strata, as such units are known here) anywhere. And now NY: the City and State have long been chipping away at the control systems set in place to provide housing for their low- and no-income denizens, but it appears to be reaching a head, particularly with the end of Mitchell-Lama programs in the city. Sure, it's only been a 2% decrease in three years, but don't discount the effects of loosened rent control and rent stabilization on the overall pool of housing for the poor. Not to mention the effects of the Bush II imperium's economic direction. NYC housing prices are certainly steep, although San Francisco has traditionally outstripped them, but as the reins are let loose, look to see the prices rise accordingly, and before long - public housing notwithstanding here - the real estate market will be as overheated as it is here in Sydney, and without the natural amenities we have here.

Being at Bondi
This Sunday, M. and I took the Bondi-to-Bronte cliff walk, where Sydney Water sponsored the "Sculpture by the Sea" exhibition. It was the last day, so the walk was packed, but the sun was out, the breeze was cooling, and the sculpture - some of them at least - were pretty good. There was an inevitable bit of Christo, and some flat-out "why?" pieces, but others actually suited the environment, and these seemed to me the best of the lot. It's one thing to sculpt, but if it's for an outdoor exhibit, especially where the environment itself is so much on display, there ought to be a fit between the two. In any event, here's the NY Times getting gushy about Australia, a seasonal event, specifically with Bondi. The picture captions are backwards, by the way: Bondi Icebergs is the 2nd picture (and if you're planning a visit, plan also to stop at the bar there for a coldie, as the view is worth pausing for, as is the beer).

Watch the Watch
I've been a big fan of Madison Smartt Bell for many years, although his output can vary in quality from book to book. Washington Square Ensemble, Soldier's Joy, and his novelization of the Haitian slave uprising, All Souls Rising were terrific, but Ten Indians, the Haitian follow-up Master of the Crossroads disappointing. I was also disappointed with Doctor Sleep, but I'll have to give it another go, even if the movie that's now been made from it, Hypnotic is getting mixed-to-negative reviews. That way, I'll know if I want to see it or just have to.

La, La, La, La, La, Means I Love You
Actually, it's the sound the Bush administration is making these days to avoid hearing questions from Democrats. Yes, George II doesn't want to even hear so much as a peep from the opposition, so he's stuck his fingers in his ears. Any questions? Put them in writing and send them through the House or Senate Committee Chairperson (Republicans, for the most part) for submission. And good luck. First, he stops taking questions from the press, now he's stopped taking questions from the Legislature. Is this the Madness of King George all over again? Well, Dean's a doctor, maybe he can help.

"It's Not Us, It's Cuba"
We've got nearly a dozen non-Afghani prisoners in Guantanamo, held as enemy combatants, including a couple of Australians, whom the Supreme Court will decide can or cannot use the U.S. court system to get out of their present circumstances. The Justice Department is arguing that Cuba has jurisdiction over the U.S. military base, not the U.S., because we lease the property. So Fidel Castro should decide? Look, I understand the argument that we need to have these guys available because they're Al Qaeda-trained and may know others who trained in the terrorist camps. So when we break up a cell and arrest some suspects, they can be paraded in front of the Guantanamo prisoners for identification. That makes a certain amount of sense. Except we haven't really caught anyone else, have we? The Lackawana Six or Seven or was it only Five? That doesn't appear to have required the use of anyone in Guantanamo, and neither did those guys they picked up in the Northwest. In fact, other than actual members of the Al Qaeda hierarchy, has there been any value in holding the Brits or the Aussies? If they can make a case in court, they should be allowed to, whether military or civil. Military if they were captured with weapons, civil otherwise. But it's all supposed to be rule-of-law in America, so let the law happen. But let the lawyers work it out, and don't hide behind the razor wire.

Appropos of the Shark . . .
O.k., it's a little strange to go to the theatre when you're unemployed, but the tickets were cheap and we hadn't been out much and it was the Belvoir Theatre, whose Company B are one of the most respected theatrical troupes going, and I've never actually seen the Three Penny Opera, even though I have heard a lot of Kurt Weil in my life, including, but not limited to, the Bobby Darin rendering of "Mack the Knife." It was a good enough production, although in the end I'd have preferred if they'd avoided the common error of contemporizing the content, which was done without a full effort at relocating from Soho (London) to King's Cross (Sydney), despite the use of Australian colloquialism. This is the same group who worked on the theatrical adaptation of Cloudstreet, the celebrated epic novel by Tim Winton set in post WWII Perth, which M. and I saw at the Brooklyn Academy when their Next Wave festival featured a lot of Australiana. That was a major piece of theatre; this was just o.k. But now I know the story and have a better sense of the Brecht/Weil collaboration.