Curls of Wisdom

exqueeze me

2007-05-24T14:47:00.000+10:00

Hullo.
I'm trying to find another job at the minute, and being greatly hindered by the fact that I have no idea what I want to do. I'm going for testing jobs (one of which I think I'll get if I want it), but now I'm also vaguely looking at financial planning jobs. It's hard to know whether or not I'd enjoy either of these two things, and part of my motivation here, it has to be said, is salary prospects.
Actually, I think financial planning could be quite interesting, am I wrong? It would suit my obsession with money, I would imagine. I'd need to do a course first. It's a bit expensive, and would mean 8 days off work. It's hard to say "I'm taking a week off to study so I can quit". I don't know, maybe I'll just go with the testing job.
Sigh.

Hello Christine

2007-05-09T16:10:00.000+10:00

This post is for Christine. Hello!

Seeing as you are the only one who reads this, I may as well use it as a private channel of communication.

By the way, being called pathetic is not rendered unhurtful by the addition of a colon and a capital P. :P

tripe

2007-04-02T16:48:00.000+10:00

Huh. Just reading over this blog for the first time in ages. What a load of crap.

Whatever

2006-05-27T16:16:00.000+10:00

It's the loneliness and the boredom that kills you. After so long, my spirit is withered and sad and my mind numb and deadened. I feel the weight of empty time pulling me into it's soft muffled depths and draining me of all my energy and life. Silence fills my head, ringing with regrets, what-ifs, private miseries, and snatches of television. Time passes, but as each moment is the same as the last, it makes no difference. The world must continue apace, somewhere, but I am no part of it, stuck in my coccoon of empty nothingness, the inertia of my plight growing alongside a steadily worsening apathy.

In other words, I need a life.

The chop

2006-01-31T16:59:00.000+11:00

So January is over already. We are one twelfth of the way to the next new year, and I've acheived nothing so far. Perhaps I should go by the Chinese calendar, in which case the new year starts...tomorrow? And it's the year of the dog this time around. The same year as I was born, so perhaps that bodes well. Or ill. If you believe in that sort of thing, anyway.

I had a moment of perspective today, though. Thinking of how big a year is and how much we have left, I experienced, almost, a moment in which I had a bigger view of things. Like I was looking at my life from the outside. It didn't last very long, so I unfortunately did not gain any particular curls of wisdom. Anything I can say will no doubt have been said before anyway.

I can say this, though. I wish I could live in that state constantly. Forever viewing things impartially and detachedly. I suspect things would be far less difficult, although maybe a little more boring. I'd just love to have no emotional investment in things. Not to care about little things that currently get me so upset. Maybe I should just amputate the emotional centres of my brain.

First comes love, then comes...

2006-01-15T15:17:00.000+11:00

I've just been perusing the Sunday paper (on the web, of course), and came across quite an interesting opinion article on the subject of gay marriage. Although this is topical only in a sort of constant sense, I do have opinions on the issue, so I thought I might just add some comments of my own. If you want to read the article in question, it's here.

Strangely, the author seems to be arguing that allowing same-sex couples to marry will be beneficial to the institution of marriage. It's an interesting approach, trying to garner support from those people who hold marriage to be some sort of hallowed thing, but in my opinion it's missing the point. Those people shouldn't be pandered to, as they are as archaic and out of date as people who oppose same-sex relationships in the first place. I think that to start from a position of agreeing with them, and build an argument from there, is never going to work.

I think we need completely to move off enemy territory and define our own terms. Fighting to be let into an institution that is counter to one's beliefs in the first place is ridiculous. What part of marriage is important to same-sex couples? What is the function it serves that they wish to be a part of? Certainly they do not want to enter into an unequal partnership in which one 'owns' the other and is dominant over them in the eyes of the law. For that is what marriage is about, at least the Christian form of it. As the author mentioned, but didn't seem to believe, it is misogynous. The bride is 'given away' by her father to her new owner, her husband. Although few people, I hope, actively think that way today, that is still the basis of the ceremony.

In these enlightened times (har, har), however, marriage is about a long term commitment to your partner, and a recognition of that partnership by society and the law. That is a choice that all couples should have available, same-sex or not. In France, a type of 'civil union', the Pacte Civile de Solidarité (PACS) was introduced as a way for same-sex couples to marry, and has been nearly as popular among heterosexual couples. We have to acknowledge that we live in a secular democracy, and that a religious union should not be the only one recognised in law. There are many couples that want the formal commitment that marriage offers without the religious and historically unequal overtones. They should be allowed to make that choice.

That was my two cents worth for the day. Freedom of choice, people. That's what secular democracy is supposed to be about. Let's make it happen.

My life of indolence

2006-01-09T16:03:00.000+11:00

I have had another of my periodical blogging urges, brought about primarily by an anonymous comment which offered tantalising evidence that someone actually reads this sort of rubbish. Being extremely reluctant to lose what little fame I have, therefore, I have decided to have another stab at spilling my guts to the world wide web. Pardon the violent imagery, it was simply the first thing to come to mind. Which could indicate a problem, I suppose, but I'd rather just move right along.

So. I believe my last post was a rather self-pitiful attempt to revive some childhood memories. Since then, I have been a busy man, or at least a well-traveled one. I made a small visit to the land of the long white cloud with my brother, and went on what was essentially a road trip with thirty other people in a bus. I have to say it was one of the best holidays I have ever had. Don't think I'm one of those generously made types who sits in a bus all day. There was camping and bike riding involved, to one degree or another. The one and only black mark against that beautiful island (south) was the legions of determined sandflies which seemed to find me (though, to be fair, not only me) absolutely delicious. On the other hand, they did give us something to talk about. I suppose I needed to complain just a little.

Now I just have to address that anonymous comment. Whoever you are, I hope you're enjoying the distress you are causing to my delicate grey matter. It's like knowing there is a surprise waiting, only worse because I'm not sure I'll ever find out what it is. It's an eternal surprise-to-be. On the other hand, it is sort of fun having a secret admirer.
You wrote of your scepticism about blogs. You are right, of course. At risk of losing your patronage, I have to agree that they are a complete waste of time, and most have nothing particularly useful to say (excepting instances such as that famous Iraqi blog, and other such). They do, however, serve as a useful outlet for the author, if that is what s/he wants, and some can provide idle amusement to Joe Bloggs (no pun intended) if he should happen to have a spare few minutes. At the least, they are harmless, as the web is, if not infinite, then practically so, and therefore they cannot be a waste of space.

So keep on reading me, my mysterious friend, if it provides any pleasure at all. Or just drop by and leave a comment every now and then even if you don't read the copy. I like to feel appreciated ;-).
In keeping with the general philosophy of a short post being a good post, this one is done, but I will certainly log on again before too long, no doubt when racked with insomnia and needing to offload, hopefully leading to a slightly less factually driven entry. Be seen by you then...

The boys' territory

2005-11-12T15:28:00.000+11:00

It lay upslope from the outlying field, and it was from there that we first made our way in. It was delightfully inaccessible, and we had to fight our way through dense scrub, thick with that bush with the little purple flowers whose name I can never remember. It was fragrant, and scratchy, and combined with the sticky-grass it was the perfect defensive barrier. We made our way through though, of course, and then set about exploring.

Inside, the way was easier, with fewer of those bushes and more ferns. There were a number of wombat trails snaking through the area, so we had a ready-made network of roads. We followed one of them along the hillside, and eventually came upon one wombat's mini paradise. There was a little hillock under which he'd made his burrow, and we found both entrances. Next to the burrow was a little glen, full of lush green ferns and with a single tall tree-fern in the centre.

It was paradise for us, too, and we named it the boys' territory and vowed not to tell the girls about it. We'd found it, and it was our place. We were all energised with the excitement of exploration, of covering new ground. That feeling of finding a place that no-one else has ever seen. Naturally we wanted to keep it to ourselves, to maintain that feeling. We did keep it to ourselves, too, although strangely enough, after the initial excitement that day, we never went back there, never carried out any of our plans for improvements and cultivation.

I went back there a few times myself, at a later time, when the dynamic was different. I was by myself, I was older, and the others had moved away. I was drawn back by the memory of that initial rush of discovery, and by the beauty of that little glen, in amongst the mountain ash like a little verdant sanctuary. The wombat hole looked abandoned, and things seemed a little messier than before, a little less crisp and colourful. Perhaps the time of year was different, or perhaps I was different. I couldn't regain that sensation, that vision. But I could remember it, and smile to myself at realising that we had never told the girls about the place, and they'd never found it. It was still the boys' territory.

O! ye of infrequent updates

2005-11-09T00:46:00.000+11:00

It has come to this. It takes a night of insomnia to drive me to posting to my blog. Like with most things I do, I started this blog with the best of intentions, was briefly enthusiastic, then lost interest. It's true, I have a problem with commitment. I'm a little like the Simpson kids - hard work makes me quit. Work of any kind makes me quit, in fact. I have no problems with the initial burst of energy and excitement, it's the sticking to it that gives me trouble. Ah well, at least with a blog I have an outlet for things when I need it. It may be infrequent, but it's here, and doesn't go away when I forget about it for a month or so.

So, on this night in particular, I come running to my blog for comfort, for succour, for something to do so my brain will shut up. And hey, when the alternative is lying staring into the darkness, it's kind of fun to use your laptop in bed. I just hope it doesn't set my sheets on fire. I don't think it likes being on a bed. It likes hard flat surfaces to vent over. I'd better go get it one. Done. Fear of being set on fire fading...

What drives a man such as myself to forsake the soothing balm of sleep in favour of the bitter comfort of the written word? What keeps my mind from slipping into a sea of slumber, there to dream of excitement and general coolness? Why can't I get a bit of the dreamless this evening? Perhaps the general state of the world is weighing on my cerebrum like a thousand elephants. There is so much horror and suffering being experienced at this moment that none of us should be able to sleep. And yet, thoughts of others are not what is busying my neurons tonight.

Alas, I am not so virtuous as that. No, despite all of the more than legitimate reasons for me to be burning the midnight oil, it is in fact trivial matters which are the pests. Small and unimportant things. Things which have no interest or importance to anyone but me. Things which nevertheless get stuck inside my head and refuse to stop being thought about. They take over my consciousness, jealously guarding the citadel of my mind against the sandman. Running around and around madly, giving me no escape.

So I turn to this blog. For something to distract me from the tediousness of my thoughts (and the unpleasantness of some), I connect (wirelessly!) to the (soon to be UN-controlled and hence ruined) web and write a long, pointless and boring blog entry. Luckily, nobody ever reads this blog (posts a month apart took care of that), so I'm hurting no-one. Nevertheless, I do not entirely spill it all. The specifics of my concerns and mullings, for instance, I have kept to myself. Oh, how I long to pour out all my thoughts and worries! But there is the possibility that someone will read this, and then where would we be? All of my most private and uninteresting inner workings would be exposed! We wouldn't want that.

Civilisation

2005-09-02T12:57:00.000+10:00

I would have liked to think that civilisation was more than a veneer. That cooperation and mutual help were part of how people behaved, fundamentally. Isn't it those qualities that allowed humans to become what we are today? And yet, it seems that as soon as we can get away with it, as soon as there is difficulty, we revert to aggression and self-interest. I'm watching the situation in New Orleans with mounting disbelief and horror. Residents there, trapped and lacking access to food and sanitation, are turning on one another. They loot, they beat, they rape. They shoot each other.
The response from the government is equally distressing. Instead of mobilising resources to get people out and aid in, they are making a token effort, and sending in a smallish force of soldiers authorised to shoot to kill. The president is calling it one of the greatest natural disasters they've ever faced, yet their response to it is, frankly, pathetic. I don't want to moralise, or to deny the fact that the people there are suffering, but it seems to me that the american culture of "me first" might have some responsibility here.
The "right to bear arms" is also to blame. In a situation like this, however much I would like to think that people would be helpful and responsible on their own merit, it's obvious that the fact that everyone seems to have guns is not helping matters at all.
The worldwide response to the tsunami partially bolstered my faith in the human race. The response to hurricane Katrina has taken it away again.

N'Awlinz

2005-09-01T16:19:00.000+10:00

The chaos and destruction that has taken place in New Orleans is a huge event, both for the people directly impacted, and for everyone else. It is having major impacts on the price of oil, and the supply of natural gas in the U.S. Possibly thousands of people are dead, and tens of thousands homeless. Although it hasn't directly affected any of us in this country, I still can't help imagining what it must be like for those who have lost everything they own. And hoping that they have good insurance.
I can't help feeling that the media is, if anything, not giving this the weight it deserves. Perhaps we're all sort of immune to things nowadays, but this is a whole city, basically destroyed. A whole city. That's a lot. A lot of history, a lot of lives. And I can't help feeling that we are beginning to see the serious beginning of the changes predicted by climate scientists - more extreme weather, leading to more disasters of this kind. I only hope that, just as the attack on the WTC started a rather manic "war on terror", the destruction of New Orleans will start an equally determined war on global warming.
Well, I can dream, can't I?

The evolution of creationism

2005-08-29T13:13:00.000+10:00

I'm sure many of you are aware in some way or another of the relatively ongoing debate in the U.S. over the teaching of "intelligent design" (the "scientific" sort of creationism - as in God took longer than seven days to create the Earth, and dinosaurs have their existence acknowledged) alongside or in place of evolution. In fact, Kansas banned the teaching of evolution from its schools (in 1999 I think), though it repealed that ban fairly quickly. There have recently been noises from the president in favour of intelligent design, supporting some states' decision to teach it in schools. This has been echoed, so I understand it, albeit in a rather quieter fashion, by our own government.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all for diversity and exposing children to many different views. But it seems to me that creationism of any kind should generally be kept to the religious studies classroom, rather than the science lab (where the folk in Kansas want it. Probably should have mentioned that before). Call me biased if you will. But if you want to define science as being essentially coming up with stuff based on observed fact and then (this is the key point) using empirical evidence to prove it, then evolution, whether or not it is described as a theory or a law, is science, whereas the idea that everything was carefully molded from a lump of clay by a bearded watchmaker is, in fact, rather not.

Uh-huh

2005-08-26T09:18:00.000+10:00

Australian values are not what they seem...

Read it. It's interesting.

I'll be back....Now

2005-08-25T11:41:00.000+10:00

So. Here I am again. Having one of my periodical forays into the world of blogging, none of which seem to last very long, though I always enter into them with the best of intentions. Let's see how long I can keep it up this time.
I know everyone is doing it, but I just have to mention our good friend in the US, Pat Robertson. Why no one has leashed this guy yet is beyond my ken. I suppose we can thank the First Amendment, which lets people say pretty much whatever they like, and lets them charge people to listen. Which is fine to a point, and indeed Pat is being ridiculed and lambasted right left and centre. The scary thing is, though, his is not an isolated view, and in fact there are people who listen to what he says and accept it as gospel. A disturbingly large number of people.
For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, Pat Robertson is a televangelist in the U.S. of A. who goes about making statements like "[liberal judges are a worse threat than] a few bearded terrorists who fly into buildings" and "[feminism encourages women to] kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians." In other words, he's a moron. Yet a million people pay to listen to him.
Anyhoo, his latest gaffe is saying that the U.S. should send some "covert operatives" to assassinate Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela. He believes it would be cheaper than a war (probably true), and that the flow of oil would probably continue unabated. Rumsfeld, of course, has come out and said that assassinating people is not something that is done by the United States. Clearly bollocks, but the right thing to say under the circs. Of course, they're probably going to have to make sure nothing happens to old Hugo now, as it would look darned suspicious.
What is interesting to me is that citizens of the U.S. feel that their country is so righteous and 'good' that they can suggest this sort of thing as if it's no big deal. It's one thing for the government to decide that someone is so much of a threat that they need to be eliminated (I'm not even going there in this post), it's another for a civilian to suggest foreign policy without any real understanding of the issues. I reckon the man has seen too many action movies.

Here's footage of the man himself:
http://www.nowpublic.com/node/16873

I am slack

2005-06-16T16:10:00.000+10:00

I can't believe I've waited so long between posts. And so much has happened! I am writing this post not from my PC, but from my shiny gorgeous new toy - a laptop! A very pretty, ultra-cool laptop, to be exact. I've had it for a week now, and the novelty isn't wearing off yet. It's fabulous. Not only that, but when I actually manage to get a good backpack to carry it in, I will undergo another whole wave of novelty, being able to carry my computer around with me. Oh, the joy!

In other news, it is now STUVAC, which essentially means that I should be studying but amn't really. Have no fear, though, it's my way. I'm sure my brain knows what it's doing. A week and a bit until your first exam, brain!

I saw some of question time during lunch today. I tell you, it's no wonder the country is such a mess. Instead of taking the opportunity to actually lay out policy and clear up misunderstandings, the senators use their reply time to insult their questioner, and avoid the issue completely. It's a shambles. Of course, going from my experience of Yes Minister, all this capering about in the Senate, and the similar antics in the Lower House, are really just a way of giving the pollies something to do while the public servants get on with running the country. Makes them feel important, you know.

Assessments galore

2005-06-06T21:11:00.000+10:00

It's that time of the semester when it feels like all your assessments come at once. Exams, quizzes, assignments, all rolled together into a huge slavering beast which buries you under a hail of marking schemes and percentage markings. Professors from all faculties join forces and plot, cackling with glee, to make sure that you have to do everything all at once. All over campus, students can discuss nothing else but what a long essay they have to write, or how many exams they must sit. The library staff suddenly have three times as much work, as the entire Arts Faculty descends upon them in a last minute rush for research material, students progressing to more and more obscure books in the desperate hope that something in them may prove the key to boosting their mark to a Distinction.

I, on the other hand, have a different tactic. Sensing an exam or a due date rapidly approaching, my brain does a curious thing. It does not like stress, you see, so when it recognizes the approaching deadline as the source of its discomfort it panics and tries to purge the offending thought. That is to say it thinks about anything but the exam, preferring to focus instead on some other form of distraction, such as writing blogs, and thus put off thinking about anything nasty until it can do so for the least possible amount of time. That is to say, immediately beforehand.

However, whatever your tactic for dealing with the horrible time that is the end of semester we are all in it together, so let us join in feeling stressed and panicked and celebrate the end of a wonderful half-year. Remember, in a few weeks we can put it all behind us and totally forget all about it until the same time next semester when it will all come flooding horribly back.

NB - I have it on fairly good authority that my mother peruses this blog once in a while (indeed she is probably the only one, everyone else preferring to do something more interesting like, say, look at their toes, or make friends with a small piece of lint). If so, I would ask her kindly to not read the second paragraph of this post. Thankyou.

I'm hungry

2005-06-01T09:54:00.000+10:00

It seems that the vending machines have been removed from city train stations this week. Vanished into fat air, they did. Now I learn that the reason is just as stupid as I feared; the powers that be are convinced that there is a group of terrorists lined up replace twisties and coke cans with grenades and pipe bombs. Of course, silly me. It's obvious, really. Not paranoid or ridiculous at all. 'The terrorists' are going around putting bombs in vending machines, then collapsing with laughter when some poor innocent commuter pays $2.10 and receives, instead of the delicious snack he's expecting, a rather violent explosion.

Really, people, when we start getting this paranoid haven't the terrorists already won (to coin a phrase)? Although I suppose, since the bins have been removed from the stations already for the same reason, the lack of vending machines will cut down on litter.

Lazy Mondays

2005-05-23T16:16:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-19T19:54:00.000+10:00

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.

---------------------------

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

2005-05-15T13:20:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-11T16:37:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-10T20:15:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-08T18:36:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-05T15:37:00.000+10:00

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

2005-05-03T20:41:00.000+10:00

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?

A lesson learned

2005-04-30T14:07:00.000+10:00

I'm sure many of you (all three of you) are waiting with bated breath for my latest outpouring of stunningly insightful political commentary, just as a dog might wait, it's entire body trembling with tense readiness, for someone to throw an old drool-soaked tennis ball. I'm afraid, however, that this particular day I will give you only the equivalent of a feint; just as a dog would explode into action then quickly subside into bewildered searching for a ball that had never left my hand, so you too will feel that leap of excitement inside as you realise there is a new post to read, before realising with disappointment that it is short, almost meaningless, and taken up mainly with a very overdone dog metaphor.

In fact I would love nothing more than to expound upon an important issue of the day. However, there are two things standing in my way. One of these is the fact that I have a midsemester exam on Monday, and must use the weekend to stare frantically at lecture notes, wondering what the hell all those acronyms mean. The other is that I can think of nothing of import to say.

However, though I have no opinions to foist on you this weekend, I do have an important lesson to share. That lesson is as follows; when catching a cab in Sydney on a Friday night, make sure you do so on the same side of George St. as your destination. This will save you fifteen dollars.

Lovely day for a protest

2005-04-28T22:14:00.000+10:00

Well, fellow students and other forgotten citizens, I have used my day wisely. What can be better, on a beautiful sunny April afternoon in this fine city of ours than to get out and exercise one's democratic right? If there's one thing I love on perfect autumn days, it's to take a stroll around town with 4000 of my fellow uni students, followed by free food, water and entertainment on the front lawns of historic Sydney University. I'd like to thank the current government for enacting legislation that allowed us to enjoy such a pleasant Thursday to the utmost.

Seriously, though, other than giving us a free Whitlams concert, what does the introduction of VSU (Voluntary Student Unionism, for those of you living under a rock) really mean? To answer that question, it may be best to ask another; what does USU really mean? What really are the benefits of forcing poor suffering students to pay hundreds of dollars a year? What does this so-called union actually do?

To listen to Mr. Nelson, one would think the union's main role is subsidising sausage rolls. You may be surprised to learn that this is not, in fact, the whole story. While sausage roll subsidisation is a vital part of uni life, this and other food subsidies are merely the most obvious of benefits. And lets face it, the food is still not that cheap. So where is all our money going? Well, it's all being gobbled up by commie pinko lefties furthering their political agendas and...hey, I kid, I kid.

In truth, the union spends its money in a very great number of ways, and the results are so all-pervasive in the structure and life of the university that they're almost invisible. Take, for example, the union buildings. It's all very well to worry about beer prices in Manning going up under VSU, but one must also remember that Manning would never have existed in the first place if it weren't for the money contributed by generations of thirsty students. Likewise for Holme and Wentworth. These buildings are maintained with union money, and filled with union services. Not just food outlets, but all sorts of places to go for help, whether it be with finding accommodation or work, borrowing money, or counselling. There is also childcare, queer space, the women's room...the list goes on.

In addition, the union provides funds and support that make it possible for clubs and societies of all flavours to flourish. Some people will ask the question; why should my money pay for a bunch of people get together and dress up like idiots, talk about some TV show I don't watch, or hit each other with sticks? Well, it's a fair point. The problem is that without all these groups, or at least the opportunity for them to exist if they'd like, the richness is sucked out of uni life. The true reason for going to uni - to get free barbecues - would disappear.

University is a blissful few years between the tedium of school and the drudgery of working life. I hold that the atmosphere made possible by our union fees fosters creativity, initiative and of course social skills, and has a permanent effect on anyone who passes through its, ahem, rigours. These attributes help to liven up the after-uni world; if we turn universities into corporate drone-factories, places where one goes to go to class, have lunch, go to class, then go home, then our brains will be stunted and personalities atrophied, and the country will lose all colour and life, and turn into a mind-numbing cultural wasteland. And I'm not exaggerating one bit.

Merry Anzac day, one and all

2005-04-25T11:58:00.000+10:00

Today I am going to risk the wrath and retribution of patriotic Aussies everywhere, but I just can't stay silent on this issue, especially not today on the 90th anniversary of the heroic sacrifices made by our servicemen and women (yeah right) on that beach in Gallipoli. My television (OK, it's really Carl's, but it's in my house) is chock-full of non-stop live ANZAC-related events, including the dawn service live from Turkey. This would be fine if I had something else to do, but as it is it's merely depriving me of bad daytime TV. Like with the pope's funeral, we are once again being told in no uncertain terms that no real Australian would want to watch anything else.

I do not object to the remembering, with sadness, of the wasted lives (on both sides, may I add; Turkey lost far more lives at Gallipoli than we did) and pointless suffering. By all means, let us look back with sorrow and horror, and hopefully we may learn something. What I object to is that what we are being told to learn from all of this is that death in war is glorious and heroic. That those on "our side" are great men; almost divine, rather than merely human. The memory of this war, and the veterans of this war and the wars since, are being made into sacred relics, nearly akin to religious idols.

The effect of all of this is a very useful one. One day a year, we are reminded that we are Australion, and that when we are told to we fight fiercely and well to protect this "lucky country" of ours. Australia takes a break from being part of the rest of the world, and spends the day in looking back on a (relatively) small and strategically pointless battle, chest swelling with pride, and head swimming with the glories of times past. It's a shame, for the government, that there isn't an election this afternoon, because they would probably be re-elected with an unprecedented majority, carried on a wave of patriotism.

I realise that I myself am contributing to the whole thing; after complaining that there's nothing on TV but ANZACia, I go on and talk of nothing else. This is the risk one runs when one is at home by oneself on a Monday, I suppose. Ultimately, my point is this; let us remember the horrors of war, the (mostly unintentional) sacrifices the soldiers made. Then let us, instead of looking inward and backward, engage with the rest of the world. Vast numbers of people are suffering needlessly right now, never mind 90 years ago. Let us, the lucky country, use the lecacy of those soldiers to remind us of that; it's normally easier to think about our own than about others, but once thinking of human suffering it is a small jump. Hopefully we can make that jump, and extend the sorrow we feel at our own losses to compassion for those suffering today.

2005-04-24T15:10:00.000+10:00

I know what you're thinking; I've taken my own sweet time returning to blogspace since my repatriation to my native land. It's true, but there are, I assure you, many most excellent reasons for my slothful ways. Really, there are. I can't think of any at this precise moment, but they're there. Excuses aside, though, let's forget the past and look only to the future. A future filled with insightful and witty blog entries; hilarious anecdotes, cutting political commentary, and fascinating forays into the scary, scary place that is my mind.

First things first. I'm sure that you are dying to delve into the mysterious blank period between the 18th of February and today (see "Curls Away!" if you have no idea what I'm talking about), so I will attempt a brief summary to bring my life entirely up to date. I flew home, was reunited with my beautiful girlfriend, and began the year's studies (with my usual slack-jawed, foggy-brained attitude), which I continued up to this very day, with a brief break in the now-commercialised, over-romanticised home of crusty, ancient pot-smoking ex-hippies and retired upper-middle-class "sea-changers".

OK, so that brings everybody up to date. A fine and accurate condensation of the last couple of months, despite its slight overabundance of hyphens. But I like hyphens, so no worries there. As for the future, it may have to wait. Other than this first post and its masterful condensation of two months in the life, what is in the past I intend to leave there, safely packed away like the late JP2. As nothing of note has happened today, other than the creation of this blog, my stock of anecdotes is, shall we say, a little wanting. As for political commentary and deep thoughts, well, frankly, it is Sunday...