Politricks

I really don’t want to write anything about the current tension playing through the ranks of the Australian Liberal Party. But I will. Actually that’s a lie. I really do want to write about it – but if I get too political here people complain – so my apparent reluctance, or reticiance, or regret, should allay those concerns. At the end of the day I don’t really care who leads the Liberal party. The real question is just how binding a conversation between two aspirants for leadership in the federal opposition about handing over the leadership that the party hadn’t yet won should be. My hunch is that there are two arguments – not very… and very… not really rocket science is it.

I’m still deciding which camp I sit in – there are all sorts of issues that can arise within 1.5 terms in office for a political party. Making a promise to hand over the reigns mid stream is stupid. No one could seriously have expected it to go ahead – which I suspect is why it has taken 12 years for the contents of the conversation to be revealed. I suspect Mr Howard just doesn’t like the idea of Mr Costello ever running the country.

The bigger issue that came out of cabinet’s meeting yesterday was the cross media ownership developments. Funnily enough Labor and the Greens both came out swinging against the reforms. Unfortunately that’s like me coming out swinging in a boxing match with… well anyone. It’s just not going to make much of an impact. When Labor, and the Greens powers combine they form Captain… unimpressive. I don’t think they understand the words “balance of power” – that’s when the government controls enough votes in the senate to pass anything. More power to them I say. Speak out all you like. Empty threats, hollow words… meaningless, meaningless. If I was Labor or the Greens I’d be saying no about a whole lot of stuff in one big non-story for the news to pick up.

No to Howard
No to whaling
No to whales
No to North Korea’s missile tests
No to Iraq

They could launch a “just say no” campaign. They need to do something. This post is now boring me. So without further ado. Goodbye.

Oh – please note the new link on the right – it’s to the funniest blog on two heads, or you can just click here.

Rubbed out

Like millions (well hundreds and thousands (the number, not the little colourful balls of sugar)) of others I’ve been hotly anticipating the hotly anticipated new Thom Yorke solo album, The Eraser. So today… upon its release… I bought it. And I listened to it. And now, here are my thoughts.

This album is slightly more avant garde than any of Radiohead’s work (for the uninitiated and uninterested, Thom Yorke is the singer from Radiohead). The music is a series of syncopated and sometimes rhythmic noises. With very little musical quality whatsoever. Except, and this is a big exception, for Thom Yorke’s voice. I’ve decided I could happily listen to Thom Yorke sing over any noise in the world. It wouldn’t make me happy, because Thom Yorke is a very melancholy kind of guy. But it would be a pleasurable experience nonetheless. He also writes lyrics with cool words and concepts. And his cover art is good. There’s my in depth analysis and review of the CD. I was also looking forward to the release of Muse’s new album. But it wasn’t available at Wow. I wish Townsville had a JB Hifi. Actually, that would be bad for my bank balance.

Another variation on the rubbed out theme – Steve asked me what I thought the Italian guy said to Zidane in the build up to his send off this morning, and I must confess I did not get up for the World Cup. I set my alarm, but promptly metaphorically threw it at the wall. I actually dropped my phone rather half heartedly on the floor. If Zidane is the typical French creative genius then I imagine it was something along the lines of “Oi, you French poof” which was enough to send my favourite all time player, Eric Cantona into a violent fan directed frenzy (see below) – he’s not my favourite player because he karate kicked a fan in the head. He karate kicked a fan in the head because he’s my favourite player. I’m not sure the logic there worked any better than it did in that trashy teen movie which I won’t admit to viewing. My sisters have a lot to answer for.

My parents, and sister, arrive in Townsville tomorrow – it’s the first time they’ve ever come to stay at “my” house. So I’m inventing all sorts of new house rules… actually I’m tidying my room. Maybe.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMCmHBqRXnQ]

State of the Union

I’m sitting down to write this post with no actual content in mind to fill it. It’s more out of a sense of obligation and in recognition of the fact that I’ve had nothing of substance to say for quite some time. Unless of course you count last week’s efforts on the word queue and the North Korea situation. Part of the reason I’m writing this is because I’m sick of the “ronery so ronery” title sitting at the top of my blog page. Those of us still carrying the world cup torch know that the hotly anticipated all European final is on in the early hours of tomorrow morning. For those supporters out there who’ve fallen off the wagon Italy (boo) are playing France (Oh ho ho) in a battle worthy of an Olympic 10 metre platform dive final. The number of dubiously decided close games in this World Cup have done nothing to further the game’s cause in Australia. Speaking of games in Australia, I made the mistake of watching a bit of last night’s Bledisloe Cup. For those of you not interested in the petty fights between League and Union fans I’ll give a quick summary of my problems with Rugby Union.

1. Its fans claim superiority over league based on the flowing nature of the game. Sure the ball is in play longer because there are less penalties given (only because Union refs actually play the advantage rule properly), but so much time is taken up setting up the lineouts and scrums, and the ball is constantly tied up in rucks and mauls. The game flows about as fast as an arctic river. Which is to say not very fast at all. Their tries are invariably scored in an all in “stacks on” on the tryline. Hardly the result of dazzling ball play, creativity or athleticism.
2. Union fans claim the moral highground because their scrums are contested. As far as I can see, contested scrums are not necessarily a good thing. They do not punish dropped ball to the degree that league scrums do, and they take so long to get right. I can understand the ref’s concern with a correctly packed scum, because if they go wrong people will get hurt. I was once told that international rugby players develop hemorrhoids due to the pressure exerted in the scrum. And I believe it.
3. Union aficionados always claim a higher level of sophistication and intelligence than their league counterparts – this claim was historically rooted in the fact that union players traditionally came from good private school, university educated stock. But no longer. These days the Wallabies backline (traditionally the smarter team members) are more likely to have a background in League than a private school education, and they’re much more likely to be getting themselves in trouble off the field (ala Wendell Sailor – those two factors probably go hand in hand). They’re also more likely to get caught out lacking sophistication on the field too, thanks to the wonders of modern television.

Really that link and a genuine dissatisfaction with the quality of last night’s game were the only reason I made this post. I suspect I’ll also get more response from particular female readers (Miriam and Robyn come to mind) than from any passionate male Union supporters. So over to you girls…

Ronery… so ronery

Just when you thought I couldn’t get any less holy – I open a post with a Team America reference. For those of you who haven’t seen the movie… don’t. I can’t recommend it in good conscience. However, I will continue to quote it because it’s actually very funny, and now surprisingly (well it’s actually not really a surprise) relevant given situations in North east Asia. It seems the craziest man ever to wear platform shoes has taken short man syndrome to the next level. Crazy Kim the coiffured nepotist from North Korea has decided to flex his military muscles by sending 7 really expensive missiles to the depths of the Sea of Japan. It says a lot about a man’s character if he’ll gladly waste seven missiles when his people are starving. There were plenty of better places to aim the missiles. The Big Brother house maybe. Channel 9. Boy, am I mister current events or what… Why didn’t he test them by firing them at a terrorist you might ask? Well for starters Hazem El Masri was indoors… and secondly Kim Jong Il is a terrorist in training. He’s just not very good. Yet. He clearly needs more practice – the US reported that one missile fizzled just 40 seconds after launch. There’s a lot of places you can take missile jokes. But I won’t. One can only hope his missiles didn’t harm any whales. I suspect that’s why the Japanese have imposed trade sanctions – it’s certainly the only reason anyone can think of for imposing sanctions on the Japanese. I think the popularity of karaoke would be another one, and the popularity of anime… and those stupid game shows… and umm… well I guess there are lots of potential reasons actually. But I feel sorry for the poor Japanese, not only do they have to put up with a crazy irascible despot on their doorstep, they’re not allowed to snack on their favourite meal in the whole world. Whale. For some reason the rest of the world doesn’t see taste testing as a scientific test. Last I heard science was the use of the senses (observation) to test a hypothesis. I think on that basis Japan can eat all the whales they want.

Another man who is apparently lonely at the moment, allegedly, is Michael Costa. The New South Wales politician who bares a striking resemblance to Dr Evil (oh no, now I’ve also referenced Austin Powers… I’m scraping the bottom of the pop culture barrel tonight)
has apparently (allegedly) been visiting ladies of the night. More specifically a lady of the night. An anonymous lady of the night. An anonymous lady of the night who anonymously made the announcement on talkback radio. Rather than letting the event fade into obscurity Costa decided to sue for defamation – now everyone knows he was the politician named (Merrick and Rosso cut the caller off almost immediately and released an apology without naming said politician). Costa needs a new PR adviser. I fail to see how suing a radio station where the hosts were clearly not culpable (they could perhaps have beeped out the name if their production team had been working on the industry standard 3 second delay) will achieve anything. Particularly if Merrick and Rosso can prove the claims to be true – truth is a defence to defamation provided it’s in the public interest (and the moral conduct of a politician probably falls into that category – some would argue that this shouldn’t be the case, but if you’re going to hold yourself up as a public figure of good moral stature then there has to be accountability). Thankfully we now have uniform defamation laws to make defences easier to remember – it seems these new laws scrapped the public interest element too. Hooray. Defamation was the one area of law I was actually good at. I figured it might come in handy.

Escaped animals

Some animals should be kept in cages. Certainly these emos should be kept safely in their paddocks. Goats should definitely never be ‘scaped. Having played the role of the scape goat professionally for the very first time I can reveal that it is an unpleasant experience.

I now thoroughly endorse Eddie McGuire’s policy of terminating the employment of all the stupid people at Channel 9. Hopefully he’ll leave the locker room pretty stale (as in not Fresh).

It would seem Fr*sh were less than happy with a few elements of their Townsville visit – and the AFCM director was less than happy with Fr*sh, and in turn less than happy with me. As the most junior member of the Fr*sh trip I became the “fall guy.” Luckilly I’d kept all my correspondence with the Fr*sh Producer and AFCM so the buck was passed back up the chain. Not before Townsville Ent*rprise’s good name (and my reputation) were besmirched in certain circles. If you want a happy career – never work with children, animals or television personalities. The Fresh producer is the first woman I’ve met with short man syndrome. I’ve never met such a belligerent** and vindictive person – she was so lovely to deal with – until something came back to bite her. It’s not my fault that she couldn’t schedule a film shoot properly. I didn’t force her crew to stay up drinking till 3am the morning before a shoot. Grrr (that’s the first and last time I’ll spell out a sound like that on my blog. It’s a little hackneyed. It’s not even onomatopoeia – i’m pretty sure “growl” would be the word I was looking for there – I’ll make up for it by using cool words wherever possible tonight).

On the bright side, a number of really cool people backed me up. Which was nice. Our Chairman, CEO, and my manager in particular. And the totally awesome AFCM Public Relations guru who is now writing me a glowing reference which I can use to fight the good fight against the opression of the national media powerhouse that is Lyndey Milan. I hope she googles herself today. I wouldn’t put it past her to be doing that every day. I’ve never met anyone who’s been directly two faced before. This blog entry is slightlty cathartic. Maybe I should make it slightly defamatory as well, but at this point I’ve managed to keep it tied to the truth – despite the Fresh team’s flagrant* disregard for virtuous conduct.

And here I was thinking the trip had gone well. Ignorance truly is bliss. I think I’d prefer to be oblivious of any machinations behind the scenes (are machinations always behind the scenes? I guess they can be transparent) that are not my doing.

There ends the rant.

I really have no other news actually. Homestarrunner has finally been updated again.

So the words I taught the kids today were umm fangoriously, besmirched, belligerent, hackneyed, flagrant and umm linebacker…

Somebody needs to go get an icecream sandwich…***

*I told someone I’d use that word today.
** and that one.
*** for the uninitiated that was from here

Queuing up…

It occurred to me just now that Queue is a very odd word. It strikes me that the second “ue” could, be redundant. Interesting food for thought really. Apparently it comes from the Latin word Coda… I’m not sure how that came about.

That’s all I really have to say tonight. Potentially that post could have been expanded to be quite entertaining – but if I’d made it longwinded and “intellectual” people would have complained. You can’t please everyone all of the time.

I will now shamelessly plug the second most popular blog on the internet (no one likes people arrogant enough to claim “most popular” status) – check it out here.

This blog entry is now terminated… like so many journalistic careers at Channel Nine… it’s like a skeleton (boned – which when you think about it may be appropriate terminology for describing the waif like/wafer thin host of the Today show, I’m sure Eddie was just taken out of context)… in that it probably could have done with a little more fleshing out (also like Jessica Rowe). I think I’m out of Nine jokes now… Although I didn’t have nine to begin with, it’s more like 4…

Produce the goods

Well it has been a while since I last posted anything of value (some people would argue that I’ve never posted anything of value). I have been busy. Really. I have. I’m working hard – although you might disagree when you’ve finished reading this post. On Wednesday night I picked up the cast and crew of Fresh – the channel 9 (I’ll get to channel 9 later) cooking show from the airport. They are the best film crew I’ve worked with so far, and were a lot of fun to host.

On Thursday night I attended a black tie, $200 a head, 6 course banquet dinner. I’d post the menu but you’d all be jealous, I’ve now tried rabbit, crocodile, tuna loins (but where are their legs), duck and other interesting stuff… with wine to match. The dinner was the opening of the Australian Festival of Chamber Music. My mother will be happy to know that I now just eat whatever is put in front of me – provided it’s been prepared by a 5 star chef… I’m being very sophisticated.

Here’s three things I learned while on the road with Fresh
1. The reason you never see flies on the set of cooking shows is because they spray the food with fly spray to keep bugs off… (I wanted to make a “bugger off” pun there but couldn’t think of a suitable way to frame it – and we all know the key to art these days is the frame).
2. The Nine network need to work harder to ensure their staff are confident about job security (I’d suggest that rather than spending millions of dollars flying the Footy Show to Germany, or having senior management catch a cab from the Blue Mountains to Sydney, they should keep their lower level staff employed.)
3. You should never begin a list with an arbitary number of things to achieve – instead you should edit in retrospect. Which I will not do now… So that you can learn from my mistakes.

People keep rewarding me for my work (which I get paid for) with produce (as in fruit and vegetables) – first it was the crazy fashion bash man with the eggplant (which I donated to a good cause), avocadoes (which i’m going to have to turn into a dip) and pumpkin – which became a pumpkin pie, enjoyed by all at work (but not prepared by me)… and now I’ve been further remunerated with items of home grown goodness. I took Fresh to a pineapple farm. The pineapple farmers were cool – they’re this four generation farming family – the farm was started by Mr Pace Sr, he had three sons, Messers Pace Jr, these sons had sons, Messers Pace Jr Jr, and these sons married and had sons, and daughters (the oldest of that generation is 15, the second oldest 14 – he drives trucks and stuff around the farm, and knows more about pineapples than anyone should at his age). All but the oldest Mr Pace still live on the farm. There’s 20 Paces in total, which sounds a bit like a duel… anyway, the Paces were lovely, and they gave me a huge watermelon, and some pineapples.

So this week I’ve had more free food than I could poke a stick at… well I could have poked a stick at it, but that would have been odd. Really, really, odd. I wonder where that expression came from.

I know I said I’d talk about Channel 9. But I’ll do that in a later post. Maybe the same one that I talk about the benefits of eloping (for Caitie’s benefit, or by her request (I’m not sure I know anything about eloping. I must be the world’s worst source of advice for any relationship issues)).

Musical Calculus

I’d like to use today’s entry to pose a question inspired by Mark’s comment on my last post.

“The “derivative is bad” argument is silly. Pretty much everything in art, music, science, social/political thought, etc has prior art “influences” and thus can be seen as derivative or reactionary.”

Yes Mark, that is a fair comment – and one well backed up by the Ecclesiastes passage you referred us to. Nothing is new under the sun. However, that does not give musicians open slather to run around stealing other people’s style. Intellectual property laws ensure that you can’t get away with simply stealing another person’s idea, and doing so in the realms of art, music, science and social thought is generally frowned upon. It’s called plagiarism. You don’t see wannabe painters out there recreating the Mona Lisa. If music is art then some originality is required. When seven bands release seven songs with the same chord progression and the all wear the same clothes, and claim the same influences – bands 2 through to 7 of that group are redundancies – unless 2 is a tribute band with a clever pun as a name.

There’s an old song lyric – and you can google it if you like – that says “if everybody looked the same, we’d get tired of looking at each other,” which is pretty much the point of the “derivative is bad argument” – if all music sounded the same we would get tired of listening to it. Therefore derivative music is bad.

I would also make a distinction between “derived” and “influenced” – derived work is something that could only be reached by copying something – there is no art to that. So that step in Mark’s syllogism is a non sequitur.

In the words of someone who played an important role in the artistic movement – or in the words of some sort of manifesto – Vive Le Difference…

And now… on the subject of the French and Revolutions – check out the newest, most coolest thing on the internet – askaninja – actually it’s not new, only recently discovered…

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56vcMhVv_WM]

Taste in music

I am a music snob. This will come as no surprise to some of you out there. Other people (perhaps Townsville people who’ve seen me lead the singing in church) will question my right to hold such a position based on my demonstrated lack of actual musical ability. Still others may argue that musical taste is a matter of personal taste and therefore should be judged subjectively, and on that basis my musical snobbery is yet another form of arrogance.

I haven’t always been a music snob – in fact the darkest skeleton in my closet is an old Backstreet Boys album** (it’s not literally in my closet having been donated to the Campbell family music collection some time ago – perhaps it should have been donated to the Smith family… but that would hardly have been charitable).

I was recently directed to a website that I’m sure will amuse my fellow music snobs. It’s the brain child of Eman Laerton (which backwards is Not real name). A mysterious caped crusader fighting the good fight against bad, derivative music. I’d recommend you spend some time there appreciating all the fine videos. I’d particularly recommend the Evanescence one.

“If Linkin Park is the derivative – what do you call the derivative of the derivative?”*

This site is the coolest thing I’ve found online since discovering Strong Bad and friends at homestarrunner.com. The download times are well worth it – I’ve been literally LOLing for days.
Special thanks go to housemate Dave (as opposed to other Daves, of which, it must be said, there are many) for sending me to this site. I can only hope that further Eman Laerton productions are equally amusing.

*
I must confess at this point to owning a Linkin Park album, it was a rainy day, I was walking through Target, and it was pretty cheap… That’s all I have to say in my defence.
** The nice thing about writing blog entries is that they don’t have to be linear – I have no defence for buying this album apart from youthful naivety… I should point out in my defence that I did grow up listening to Simon and Garfunkel – and surely that gives me some credibility.

We’re through…

What a bizarre game. This World Cup has captured the attention of the Australian public – and if games continue to go down to the wire like that one – it’s likely they’ll be caught up for some time. Harry Kewell finally lived up to the hype. Kalac showed why Schwarzer belongs in the Australian goal mouth. The referee issued three yellow cards to the same player… The game had it all.

Both teams looked much more comfortable chasing qualification than defending it. Neither team acted decisively when they held the upper hand – but Australia continued to play a composed, mature brand of football that I can only attribute to their combined experience playing in top class club competitions, and to the brilliant tactical nouse of Guus Hiddink (who was apparently richly rewarded for taking Australia to the second stage – you’ve got to wonder what he was thinking when Kalac let the ball roll over his body and into the back of the net).

Here’s my player ratings…

1. Zeljko Kalac – Ordinary handling and poor set piece decision making could have cost us our spot in the next round – obviously not match fit. I don’t think I saw him make a save. He was lucky Craig Moore was in position to clear the ball off the line in the last couple of minutes – 3/10

2. Lucas Neill – Again a superb performance – showing maturity, poise and style in the backline. Neill is my favourite Australian player and he’s showing the world what he’s made of – expect a big money transfer offer to come in for him in the weeks following the World Cup – 8.5/10

3. Craig Moore – This guy should still be captain. He’s level headed – and he can score penalties… He was in the right place at the right time to clear the ball off the line at a crucial point in the match. Our 3 man defensive pattern has held up strongly in the tournament so far. 8/10

14. Scott Chipperfield – Made some probing runs down the left hand side, including a beautiful turn and cross which asked questions of the defence. Made way for Kennedy late in the game. Does well balancing attack and defence. 8/10

5. Jason Culina – A favourite son to Guus Hiddink – playing in his club and national teams – always holds his own in the midfield – but sometimes guilty of lazy passing and poor decision making. 7/10.

7. Brett Emerton – Mr Reliable – controlled effort in attack and defence – unluckilly dismissed after receiving one soft yellow card, would have missed the next game anyway because the handball was a clear yellow card offence, he will be missed by Australia. 7.5/10

4. Tim Cahill – was everywhere – looks dangerous on the ball but can be a little volatile. For Australia to do well Cahill must perform. I stand by my statement about his importance to the team. 7.5/10

13. Vince Grella – solid engine room toiler – makes some poor passing decisions but also makes some crucial defensive contributions. He’s a valuable, physical presence anchoring the midfield and keeping tabs on key attacking players. 7/10

21. Mile Sterjovski – I like this guy, makes some great, dangerous runs on the flanks and keeps involved in the play. He’ll be a regular fixture in the green and gold. 7.5/10

10. Harry Kewell – finally delivered on the hype. Kewell looked dangerous all match and consistently troubled the defenders with some neat running, passing and shooting. Was on the spot to capitalise on Bresciano’s brilliant cross to seal our path through to the next stage. 8.5/10

9. Mark Viduka – Viduka is shadowed by several defenders on reputation alone – he never shoots, sometimes bundles loose headers into the keeper’s arms and never really troubles the defence. He’s a master of receiving the ball with his back to goal and looking for an easy pass. He’s penalised too regularly for backing into the defender who’s marking him and holding them off the ball. He’s an imposing physical presence and probably comes back in defence too often. 5.5/10

15. John Aloisi – Australia look instantly more dangerous with two dedicated strikers on the pitch. 7/10

16. Marco Bresciano – provided some spark and forward momentum to the midfield – and a beautifully weighted cross for Harry Kewell’s goal. 7.5/10

Josh Kennedy – He’s a giant. All gangly and stuff – didn’t have long to make an impact but didn’t really make any mistakes either – gives Australia someone to aim at in the box. 7/10

The ref – umm… ordinary effort, someone needs to explain the basics of the game to him. 2 yellow cards = 1 red, handballs in the box = a penalty… Luckily that Croatian guy didn’t do anything special after he should have been dismissed – he musn’t have been too smart though because he managed to fit a third card in right at the death.

Bad coffee, pumpkins and other endemic NQ anachronisms

Have you ever bought a coffee that was so terrible you winced as you drank it? I have. Don’t buy coffees from the ferry terminal in Townsville. They are bad. Maybe it was because I decided to be healthy and sample the “skinny cappuccino” – I won’t be doing that again. If I didn’t need the caffeine to I would probably have tipped it down the sink. I had to hold my nose to get it down. Seriously. Bad. Coffee. There are some good coffee outlets in Townsville – don’t let my experience curtail your plans to holiday here. Townsville is the tourism capital of the world. At least it will be. Maybe.

I had another strange North Queensland experience yesterday. My job is all about networking – and using this network for leverage to gain favours for other people in the network – it all balances out in the end. I exerted some leverage to obtain some video footage of the area for a conference organiser from the Burdekin (it’s in the sticks man… about 45 minutes south of Townsville). This guy has a reputation around town for being a pretty prickly character (or a bit of a …). He hassled me and hassled me on this footage – I can’t make the WIN production people do their stuff any faster, particularly when they’re doing me a favour – but I eventually produced the goods and this guy, as a demonstration of gratitude, produced the produce. He dropped a pumpkin, and some homegrown eggplants and avocados around to our office to thank me. I’m not sure what the message here is – pay peanuts you get monkeys, pay vegetables you get me? Hmm…

North Queensland people do some strange stuff… ‘ey. See I can type in their lingo. But to the MPC people going on the youth leaders training thing this weekend – be nice, and don’t tell any lies about me. I’m doing a good enough job of selling myself up here without your “help.”

There were a couple of noteworthy stories in the newspaper yesterday.

Apparently James Blunt’s song “your beautiful” (I’m not capitalising it because I don’t believe it deserves proper noun status) woke a young girl from a coma. I guess that makes the scoreboard on the damage wrought by James Blunt vs good stuff caused about 10000000000000000 – 1. That was a completely arbitrary number of 0’s you could add some more for good measure.

An employee at Australian’s money producing factory (I can’t remember what they’re called) made a mint out of his job (see how I set up that pun…poetry) – walking out of work with $600 worth of $2 coins every day for 10 months. He put the coins in his shoes and lunch box.

And finally a plug for two websites… Would a website unplugged be a blank screen? Or a letter? Interesting questions… interesting interpretation of the word interesting…

Scooter gave me an inside look into his upcoming Interesting Pigeon facts. I’d encourage all my readers to become his readers too. I imagine if a number of readers from here went there it would be a real coup/coop/coo (that’s two puns in one).

I can’t encourage you strongly enough to check out the works of those two crazilly flawed nuts at from Everybody’s second favourite segment productions – Phil and Smiley (I will refer to myself in the third person for the sake of this advertisement). Check out their all new comedic endeavours at philnsmiz.blogspot.com. At the moment you can read an exclusive interview with the cast from the highly successful, but never released, MADE IN CHINA – The Art Rock Musical. It’s highly likely that reading it will cause your sides to split – whether that’s from a skillfully inserted knife, or laughter, is yet to be determined. We’re not actively encouraging people to go developing post musical stigmata or anything… but hey.

Playing with knives and part 2 of the story of the crazy Japanese man

Well I do believe I’m a prophet… I’d just written that heading and was going to talk about the exquisitely sharp leatherman I’d just been playing with when BAM (or more correctly SLICE) I shut it on my thumb. It hurts. Blood tastes funny. Metallic in fact. But the med students I’ve asked can’t explain why. My guess is that it has something to do with the iron content, and because I’m an iron man my blood must be extra metally tasting. So I’m feeling pretty retarded at the moment (sorry to all the politically correct people out there – but it’s technically true – my movement and thinking is somewhat inhibited). I was using the knife to stab myself in the arm anyway, so I probably deserved it. I haven’t gone all emo or self harm crazy or anything – I just had a funny pimple that needed probing… that’s probably a pretty disgusting thing to put on my blog – but that’s what you get here – you get my life, pimples and all…

So yesterday’s Japanese man story has a sequel. There maybe some ethical ramifications for posting this story on the internet – so to protect the identities of the parties involved I’m going to rename them. For the sake of this story the Japanese guy who was last seen handcuffed and heading off to the hospital yesterday will be called Bob. And the med student who handled the admission of said patient, and tracked down his family, will be called umm Nyrrik. Don’t go reversing either of those names, because the first one is a palindrome anyway so there’d be no point, and the second one, well that wouldn’t really protect anyone’s identity would it.

As Bob was pushed into the back seat of a police car (note the indefinite article – it wasn’t “the police car” because there were multiple police cars on the scene… that’s what happens when two different people call the police and one uses 000 while the other dials the direct line) I realised that Bob would probably be being taken to some sort of mental health type place – given that he’d exhibited all the signs of being slightly (well probably more than slightly) crazy. So I sent a message to Nyrrik, who is currently on a mental health rotation for her med studenting… or for her degree… to tell her to watch out for the crazy Japanese guy we’d just sent to the hospital. It turns out she was on duty and got to spend the day making important phone calls to educational institutes and diplomatic organisations trying to track down Bob’s family. I’m told this was a successful process. Bob is now under observation in the hospital. I’ve met plenty of crazy people before (I mean really crazy, not crazy like umm… Annod or Noraa or umm… some other people that none of you know) but this guy took the cake. Bob appeared to have led a fairly normal and competent life before this whole incident so I guess we can only hope he’ll eventually snap out of it. I blame drugs. I’m not sure that they’re actually responsible in this case, but they make a convenient social scapegoat.

Part three of the story is that the girl from work who looks after the Visitor Information Centres and volunteers gave me a packet of Tim Tams today which just goes to show that heroism pays off. I’m thinking of resigning and donning a cape and some tights. Actually, I wonder if I’d have to resign to do that…

And finally, as promised, I have a photo from my fishing adventure with I Fish. I’m not sure when the episode will air – but I’ll be sure to keep you posted. This fish was actually a lot bigger than I remembered it being – but in answer to your questions – yes I caught it, no it’s not trick photography, and no I’m not a wimp who’s afraid of touching fish… That rumour circulated in our office for a while today. I’m going to put a stop to it by going to a fish shop, buying some bait fish, and throwing them at people.

Late nights, cereal killing and crazy Japanese people

Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any more interesting I found myself in the middle of a drama right out of the script worthy of Blue Heelers. Well worthy of Blue Heelers if it had been set in a tourist information centre (visitor information centre or VICs for those in the biz (in the bus would have been something quite different there wouldn’t it, english is a funny language (is english in that context a proper noun? I imagine it is, but putting everything in lower case on your blog is cool… moby does it on his myspace (his space) anyway)). I think to do the story justice I need to do it in a film noir first person type narration thing… so here goes.

“So there I was, sitting at my desk, leaning back in my chair, the rickety ceiling fan whirring in the background. It was the morning after the night before, or rather the morning after the morning before. The light from the overhead fluorescents was hurting my eyes. The words on the computer screen in front of me blurred into insignificance. The office phone rang… and rang. The usually reliable receptionist was not at her desk. The lobby area was empty. Empty like the black, vacant sockets of a skull. I picked it up. It was Annette. Annette, Annette? Where had I heard the name, it rang like a bell… like a not very big, but somehow significant bell. Like the bell of an icecream truck driving down distant streets… Annette? Who are you Annette? It clicked when she told me. Annette and Ray are volunteers at our visitor information centre. Annette had a case for me. A case requiring the indelicate touch of a brawny, burly male. She was out of breath with concern. A crazy man, crazy like a fox, crazy like a fox on some sort of trance inducing meds, was terrorising the centre. Could I help? Of course.”

Anyway, to cut an increasingly long story short – I had to go to the visitor information centre to deal with a crazed Japanese tourist. He had this whole silent creepy guy thing going – coupled with an unwillingness to break eye contact, or speak to, his target. I quickly became his target. Rescuing our vols from a rather uncomfortable situation and placing myself in the firing line. That wasn’t in my job description. The four female police officers eventually arrived to find me restraining the guy – preventing him chasing our volunteers into the “employees only” area of the centre. It was weird. That guy was weird. The police took him to the hospital. I hope I haven’t caught some sort of contagious super disease because of the guy’s lack of understanding of the concept of personal space. If you’ve seen Shaun of the Dead (or any of the non parody zombie movies) he was just like the vacant looking zombie people, only slightly more animated.

All this topped off a long weekend (not of the three day variety – but a weekend that took a long time) featuring a 4am bedtime this morning because somebody (me) decided it would be easier to stay up for the FOOTBALL (not soccer, I’m following the Fairfax style guide at this point) than it would be to wake up for it. To borrow a well coined Australian phrase… I’m buggered.

I’ve also rediscovered my love for eating breakfast cereal at all hours of the day. Have you noticed all the wonderful new cereals out there – I remember a time when there were only 3 or 4 options… or maybe that was just in our pantry when I was growing up. Speaking of the good ol’ days – have you noticed the price of bottled water in servos these days… ridiculous, and all you hear is people complaining about the price of petrol.

In Limbo

Dear Diary,

I’ve always wanted to start something that way, maybe I’m extra in touch with my feminine side or something. I should warn you all that I’m in a bad mood, and the contents of this post may offend. I might even delete it later. Who knows. If you’re reading it, enjoy it while it lasts.

A week ago I was pretty sure that Townsville was home, and Brisbane was just where I used to live. Tonight I’m not so sure. I think I’m feeling the first pangs of loss. I don’t know what set it off (actually I probably do, but it’s just been a progression of events rather than a single event). I think it’s the realisation that proper relationships with people take longer than 12 weeks to develop. It’s possible that throwing myself into the deep end in terms of my involvement with church up here has been a mixed blessing. On one hand I’ve developed relationships with a bunch of people really fast, but on the other I haven’t taken the time to get to know people in any deep or meaningful way. So now I feel relationally in limbo, and I think my visit to Brisbane may have hammered it home a little (or a lot). Don’t get me wrong (and this isn’t just a disclaimer to appease any Townsville readers) I do really like the people up here. Hmm, there’s an old rule somewhere about not publishing things you don’t want other people to read. It also applies for not saying something in front of a microphone you don’t want recorded (there’s a funny story about a sportsreader who got caught out when a story ended with the words “he was suspended” and the newsreader added “by his testicles” because he thought the microphone was still off.). Anyway, I’m beginning to understand the importance of welcoming, and the fact that welcoming is an ongoing process. Welcoming is an interesting concept, and I’m not sure that any church does it particularly well. I haven’t been in this situation too many times before, and in the past the churches I’ve been welcomed to have been “dad’s churches” which, in my limited experience makes things feel easier. Although I haven’t had to go through the process of fitting into a new church for a long time, and last time I had to fit into a new school too.

Anyway, back to the theories on welcoming and why I think jumping into serving at church as quickly as I have may not have been the wisest move ever. I think ministry requires trust. That goes without saying. I think trust takes a while to establish. I think trust is earned on the basis of a relationship where you demonstrate a level of trustworthiness. I don’t know how long it takes to develop that trust but it probably takes more than 12 weeks, and definitely takes more than the 2 weeks it took me to get involved with stuff. I think, to paraphrase Paul, I can teach or do whatever ministry stuff I’m doing all I want, but at the end of the day, without “love” I’m just a noisy sounding gong. And that’s tough. And interesting.

So in conclusion, it’s been almost 3 months since I moved here, and I’ve only just realised that while I really like the people around here it takes longer than 3 months to establish real, deep friendships. Which I guess some people might have expected. I think I’m just a specialist at superficial relationships.

Anyway, it’s late, I’m tired, I’m grumpy and I’m annoyed. Well Brisbane people, it looks like I might miss you afterall.

So I was wrong…

Apparently it happens some times. Scooter and CB both took great pleasure pointing out that aspirin does not in fact thin the blood as I may have suggested in an earlier comment. It seems that’s a simplification of the chemical process involved. Aspirin actually prevents the blood coagulating as freely or something like that – meaning rather than thinning it just stops it thickening. Have I got that right pharmacy people (Mel I guess since you’ve got that pharmacy degree you keep telling us about you might even be able to answer this question).

I would like to point out three extra things tonight – firstly, lists are cool. Secondly, free food is cool, except when it’s lukewarm, then it’s too cool. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, I’ve started a second blog.

Why does anyone need a second blog I hear you ask? Well, let me tell you.
Once upon a time I went to a big university called QUT. To cut a potentially long story short I met a guy there with a very long surname that not many people can spell. His first name is Phil. His last name is Enchelmaier. It has several vowels. More vowels than any other surname I can think of in the time it took me to type this sentence – which is to say not very long at all. Phil and I were kindred spirits (We had lots in common). A common love for ourselves. A common love for funny things. A common belief that we were capable of achieving funniness. And a common willingness to look stupid in front of large groups of people. Now that we’ve finished uni, I’m missing all the avenues through which, or by which, we used (once) to, and used (utilised) to embarrass ourselves (I think I just realised there’s a pun in the Dandy Warhols song “We used to be friends”).

But I digress, you can find samples of our work – including the scripts for the infamous OCC project. I can also promise new works of a quality rarely seen before – including a soon to be released musical collaboration created in a single day.

You can find our amazing new blog RIGHT HERE.