Lazy Mondays

Mondays are not supposed to be lazy, of course, but when the SchIT changes your timetable at a moment's notice, you don't really have a choice. Luckily, the time off has driven me into a computer lab, where, having little else to do, I am able to carry out the rewarding task of reassuring my (2) readers that I am not dead.

The more astute among you will have noticed the passing of the Eurovision Song Contest, and the less social of us will have actually watched it. In a dazzling display of the predilection of modern song-contest watchers to like exactly what they're told to, Greece won, on the back of a song that sounded exactly like most of the others. Luckily, the contest has no meaning at all, beyond the enjoyment of watching a bunch of crazy Europeans caper around a stage in weird/interesting/rather smashing costumes, singing with various degrees of skill.

Hold the phones, I've just received terrible news. It seems the Spice Girls are thinking of getting back together. Yes, the original "girl power" group are considering throwing themselves back onto the world stage, to once again torment our ears with horrifically boppy, inane songs that, you guessed it, sound exactly like all the other boppy inane songs already on the radio. Not only that, but they think people will pay them millions of dollars for it. The worst thing is, they're probably right.

The impermanence of mankind

It is fascinating to watch the news coverage of the extensive flood damage in New Zealand. To watch roads and railways swept away, and entire houses moved from their foundations. We tend to think, these days, that we've bested nature, that we've defeated it. And in many ways, of course, we have. We've wiped out forests, irreversibly changed ecosystems all over the world, and surrounded ourselves with concrete. And yet, all it takes is a bit of rain for it all to be swept away.

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Two things are annoying me at the moment. One is "fat-free" lollies (well duh). The other is Kylie Minogue. The amount of fuss that gets made over the health issues of a celebrity is just ridiculous. It's sad that she's sick, sure, but frankly, I don't think it deserves equal coverage with major national and international issues (such as the budget, say, or the whole Iraq situation [are we allowed to call it a war?]).

On a happier note, I went with friends to see the Star Wars premiere last night, at the Cremorne Orpheum. It's a beautiful theatre, and Darth Vader playing the organ before the movie started was a nice touch. Premieres are always great fun, as people yell and clap and cheer throughout the movie; there's great atmosphere. My verdict on the movie? Better than the first two, it was, and incredibly cool, Yoda is.

Get yourself a padlock

It's looking more and more likely that Schapelle Corby, the poor young "beauty student" arrested in Bali for drug-smuggling, is innocent, and that she may face life in a rather skanky cell for the crime of not locking her bags. I can't help but think this may be a little unfair. To say nothing of the fact that with my rather small-l liberal views on marijuana, jail time would seem harsh to me even if she was as guilty as a Catholic priest at choir practice.

It's always seemed to me rather obvious that you should lock your bags when travelling by air, especially when going overseas. But then, I am of a suspicious nature, and fully expect that no mere baggage handler will be able to resist slipping four kilograms of the finest green through any zip left carelessly unguarded. I mean, they're only human, and drug-smuggling is not a crime if someone else gets caught. I'm a little more bemused about their tendency to perform fashion shows on the tarmac, I must say, but I suppose we all have a hankering to wear a camel suit now and then.

What really amuses me is the reaction of the baggage-handlers union, which is acting as if it has had its feelings terribly hurt, and is very upset that anyone should cast the slightest aspersion on the untarnished moral integrity of its members.

Budget

I did write a little tirade on the budget this morning, but Blogger was taken down for maintenance while I was writing, so I was unable to publish. I saved the text, in order to repost it this afternoon, but I find myself really not caring enough about it anymore. Tax cuts, changes to welfare, defence spending, yadda yadda, whatever. Who really cares, right? Does it have a huge impact on my life? Not a bit. Do I study economics, and therefore possess an interest and expertise in the field, and am qualified to comment on a federal budget? Absolutely not. Do I have more immediate and personal things to worry about than who's getting what tax cut? You bet. But to anyone but me, they matter even less than the budget. So I'll just stop harping on, and get back to translating this novel. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

The tired old leadership debate

Something has just occurred to me in regards to the supposed tussle between the PM and the treasurer; something that does not seem to have been thought of by anyone else, and is therefore a very effective bit of politicking (and I'm very clever), or not true (and I'm not very clever). You may remember last election, when there was a huge uproar over the fact that Howard was not going to step down after the election, though he'd said he would 'consider retiring' at 65. People rather thought that he was pushing it a bit, and felt a little unnerved that we faced an entrenched dynasty.

This time around, however, nobody seems the slightest bit concerned about Johnny's age, or the prospect of having him as leader for the unforeseeable future. I suppose that we've grown used to him by now, and better the devil you know, etc. However, I'm curious as to why something as long-standing and well-known as Peter Costello's frustrated desire to have a go at the top job is suddenly getting so much media coverage. Partly due to the budget, I have no doubt. But my little spontaneous and un-thought-out theory is that the whole mess is being drummed up by the Libs, in order to present the fact of another Howard term in a, let's say, lateral way. Our attention is being focussed on whether or not Costello will succeed in toppling the diminutive giant, rather than whether or not we really want the old bloke around anymore.

Just a thought, and probably a silly one, but I've got to write something, don't I?

...P.S. Hooray! My first comment from an unknown reader. Hello, anonymous bus company worker!

I see dead people

Well, ladies, today is going to be one of those nothing days again, I'm afraid. There are a few issues which I believe I will touch upon, but I can't seem to fix on one particular grievance to write about in depth. Instead I shall just have a little ramble, talking about my day, and the odd thought that may come to me while I type.

Today, as everyone knows, is Mothers Day (should there be an apostrophe there? If so, where exactly? I want answers, people). Unusually, I actually had my mother around, what with her visiting from down south and all. We had a t'rrific day, wandering along the clifftops at Clovelly in the unseasonable and weatherman-discrediting weather. It really is a beautiful place to be dead. We visited Henry Lawson, who wasn't saying much, before heading off to La Perouse to invade France.

All in all, it's been remarkably relaxing. It was a nice break from the rigours of learning, at the very least. I'm sure you'll all agree that walking around on corpses is much more fun and soothing than trying to cram information into already over-stuffed and tired grey matter. Cemeteries are wonderful places. Hmm. Maybe it's just me.

OK, I can't hold back from a little rant. Even if it is on an already overdone topic. I'm referring to that bus driver that dumped his busload of little shits school children at the depot, after copping not only cheek, but racial slurs. I personally think he acted quite responsibly, under the circumstances. At least he didn't kick them off the bus in the middle of, say, a busy intersection. He took them somewhere they would be perfectly safe, and get alternate transport.

Let's face it; no matter what their parents believe, pubescent boys are no rays of sunshine. They smell, they're loud, rude, and obnoxious. I know, because I was one. As pointed out by Adele Horin in the SMH, there is a terrible culture in schools of exclusion and intolerance. Behaviour and attitudes not accepted in any other part of our culture are written off as "boys being boys". This, frankly, is crap. There is no excuse for tolerating homophobia, racial prejudice, or any other form of discrimination, whether it be at work, on the street, or at school.

So that's my rant. Fascinating, wasn't it? I'm sure the comments will be flying in any second now...
In fact, I'd like to use this opportunity to encourage some external input. I'd like this site to contain some discourse, as well as mere pontification. If you have anything to rant about, positive or negative, by all means post a comment; if I like it (yes, I am the supreme ruler of this site, and my word is law) I will give it it's own post, so future generations can wonder at your lexical skill and vast intelligence. Also, if you have ideas or suggestions for my rants, well, I'm always open to creative inspiration...

A day to burn the brain

Oh, what sheer unadulterated joy I am experiencing today! With a seemingly endless train of assessments stretching before me as far as I can see, the only reasonable way I can avoid a particular subject is by working on another. Or write on my blog, évidemment. Yet even here I am not liberated entirely from the books; for what else do I have to write about? My life, usually one of hedonistic pleasures punctuated with the occasional study session, has become the opposite; the hours flying by in a haze of French idioms and Java clichés, broken only by meals and the need to jump up and down and yell every now and then.

In a way, it is fortunate that I have so much to do, as I would otherwise be milling about the house aimlessly, feeling a little despondent and gazing mournfully into the fridge every five minutes. However, I would prefer a little less pressure, so I didn't feel so much like a one-legged man who made a drunken bet that he could tightrope across the Grand Canyon and now has to make good. It would be nice to get rid of that niggling little voice in the back of my head; "well well, look what you've gotten yourself into now". Smug bastard.

It's so hard to decide which subject, which assignment, I should work on first. So many options! I feel like a kid in a candy store. A horrible, nightmare candy store, where the only way out is to eat your way through either seventeen tonnes of liquorice all-sorts or 20,000 musk sticks. But eat my way out I must, so I'm off.

We're all a bunch of convicts anyway

It seems that our government, in its infinite wisdom, has taken rather a liking to clapping people in irons. What started with merely locking refugees away indefinitely in remote guarded internment camps has expanded to include the mentally ill, among others. And not only are we incarcerating our own people, we're booting them out of the country as well. It's all so mind-bogglingly incompetent, I hardly know where to begin.

First, I should state my general unease with detention centres in general. They've been a fact of life in this country for so long that they seem to almost have been forgotten. At the very least, opposition to them has been so ineffective that the protesters have simply run out of juice. Other than the column inches devoted to them, however, little has changed in these camps. They are still a violation of human rights, and not exactly one of our most internationally popular policies.

As if they weren't a big enough thorn in the side of our current (and persistent) crop of fearless leaders, along comes the Cornelia Rau affair. An Australian citizen, suffering from schizophrenia, locked up for four months. This is not just a failure of the Immigration Department, it is a failure of the mental health system, which is in fact a shambles. Mental health really is an issue which is swept under the rug in this country. I'm not talking about Joe Bloggs paying vast sums to have a bit of a lie down on a nice comfy couch and tell someone what's eating him. I'm talking about the seriously ill folk, and the woefully inadequate, underfunded, understaffed systems in place to help them. Cornelia Rau was failed by this system, as it has failed many others.

So, after that giant stuff-up made the news, they must have launched an inquest, because oh boy, what they've been coming out with in the past few days or so! Not only have they locked up thirty-odd "illegal immigrants" who were actually Australian citizens, they have actually deported some. One of whom has vanished from radar and is nowhere to be found. I suppose she mustn't be too dissatisfied with her new life, or surely she'd be firing off flares right about now.

Well I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to lose confidence in this government of ours. First it fails to stick up for its citizens when they are imprisoned in someone else's dodgy prison without a fair trial (I'm looking at you, Guantanamo Bay), then it starts locking them up itself. Now it has gone even further and started kicking people out willy-nilly and immediately losing them. Now I'm not saying we should all stop paying taxes just yet, but I ask the question; are our elected officials holding up their end of the deal?