Aung San Suu Kyi

Did you realise, some of the seemingly biggest battles won on this earth, have been achieved not with conflict, but with passive resistance? For example of passive resistance take this WW2 story;

When the Wehrmacht invaded Denmark in 1940, the Danes soon saw that military confrontation would change little except the number of surviving Danes. The Danish government therefore adopted a policy of official co-operation (and unofficial obstruction) which they called "negotiation under protest." On the industrial front, Danish workers subtly slowed all production that might feed the German war machine, sometimes to a perfect standstill. On the cultural front, Danes engaged in symbolic defiance by organizing mass celebrations of their own history and traditions. On the legislative front, the Danish government insisted that since they officially co-operated with Germany, they had an ally's right to negotiate with Germany, and then proceeded to create bureaucratic quagmires which stalled or blocked German orders without having to refuse them outright. Danish authorities also proved conveniently inept at controlling the underground Danish resistance press, which at one point reached circulation numbers equivalent to the entire adult population.


So - Have you heard of Aung San Suu Kyi?

What comes next is a summary of the following Wikipedia entry.

When I hear about people like this, I feel the human race has a chance at survival. :)

Aung San Suu Kyi was born on 19 June 1945. Her father, Aung San, negotiated Burma's independence from the United Kingdom in 1947, and was assassinated by his rivals in the same year.Suu Kyi was educated in English Catholic schools for much of her childhood in Burma. Khin Kyi gained prominence as a political figure in the newly-formed Burmese government. Khin Kyi was appointed as Burmese ambassador to India in 1960, and Suu Kyi followed her there, graduating from Lady Shri Ram College in New Delhi in 1964.[1] Suu Kyi continued her education at St Hugh's College, Oxford, obtaining a B.A. degree in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics in 1967. Upon graduation, Suu Kyi furthered her education in New York, and worked for the United Nations. Aung San Suu Kyi returned to Myanmar in 1988 to take care of her ailing mother. In that year, the long-time leader of the socialist ruling party, General Ne Win, stepped down, leading to mass demonstrations for democratisation, which were violently suppressed. A new military junta took power. Heavily influenced by Mahatma Gandhi's philosophy of non-violence, Aung San Suu Kyi entered politics to work for democratisation, helped found the National League for Democracy on 27 September 1988, and was put under house arrest on 20 July 1989. She was offered freedom if she would leave the country, but she refused. In 1990, the military junta called general elections, which the National League for Democracy won decisively. Under normal circumstances, she would have assumed the office of Prime Minister.[citation needed] Instead the results were nullified, and the military refused to hand over power. This resulted in an international outcry and partly led to Aung San Suu Kyi's winning the Sakharov Prize that year and the Nobel Peace Prize the following year in 1991. Her sons Alexander and Kim accepted the Nobel Peace Prize on her behalf, Alexander's acceptance speech is linked in the External links section of this document. Aung San Suu Kyi used the Nobel Peace Prize's 1.3 million USD prize money to establish a health and education trust for the Burmese people. She was released from house arrest in July 1995, although it was made clear that if she left the country to visit her family in the United Kingdom, she would be denied re-entry. When her husband Michael Aris, a British citizen, was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1997, the Burmese government denied him an entry visa. Aung San Suu Kyi remained in Burma, and never again saw her husband, who died in March 1999. She remains separated from their children, who remain in the United Kingdom. She was repeatedly prevented from meeting with her party supporters, and in September 2000 was again put under house arrest. On 6 May 2002, following secret confidence-building negotiations led by the United Nations, she was released; a government spokesman said that she was free to move "because we are confident that we can trust each other". Aung San Suu Kyi proclaimed "a new dawn for the country". However on 30 May 2003, her caravan was attacked in the northern village of Depayin by a government-sponsored mob, murdering and wounding many of her supporters. Aung San Suu Kyi fled the scene with the help of her driver, Ko Kyaw Soe Lin, but was arrested upon reaching Ye-U. She was imprisoned at Insein Prison in Yangon. After receiving a hysterectomy in September 2003, she was again placed under house arrest in Yangon. In March 2004, Razali Ismail, UN special envoy to Myanmar, met with Aung San Suu Kyi. Ismail resigned from his post the following year, partly because he was denied re-entry to Myanmar on several occasions. On 28 May 2004, the United Nations Working Group for Arbitrary Detention rendered an Opinion (No. 9 of 2004) that her deprivation of liberty was arbitrary, as being in contravention of Article 9 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights 1948, and requested that the authorities in Burma set the prisoner free, but the authorities have so far ignored this request. On 28 November 2005, the National League for Democracy confirmed that Suu Kyi's house arrest would be extended for yet another year. Many western countries, as well as the United Nations, have expressed their disapproval of this latest extension. On 20 May 2006, Ibrahim Gambari, UN Undersecretary-General for Political Affairs, met with Aung San Suu Kyi, the first visit by a foreign official since 2004.[6] Suu Kyi's house arrest term was set to expire 27 May 2006, but the Burmese government extended it for another year, flouting a direct appeal from U.N. General Secretary Kofi Annan to Than Shwe. Suu Kyi continues to be imprisoned under the 1975 State Protection Act (Article 10 b), which grants the government the power to imprison persons for up to five years without a trial.On 9 June 2006, Suu Kyi was hospitalised with severe diarrhea and weakness, as reported by a UN representative for National Coalition Government of the Union of Burma. Such claims were rejected by Major-General Khin Yi, the national police chief of Myanmar.

On doing nothing

Tessa distinguished absolutely between pain observed and pain shared. Pain observed is journalistic pain. It's diplomatic pain. It's television pain, over as soon as you switch off the beastly set. Those who watch suffering and do nothing about it, in her book, were little better than those who inflicted it. They were the bad Samaritans. (The Constant Gardener).

Yes my friends: Season Three of Battlestar Galactica is dark indeed. What other program on American TV would dare show the use of suicide bombers to acheive a "justified" end? Ron Moore has something to say, and I can't stop listening.

Kara's undoing?

Pledge Card

"I am not a crook" - Richard Nixon

I noticed on David Farrar's Kiwiblog that there is an auction on trademe featuring Labour's election pledge card. I love the comments. Priceless.
Humour is a large part of what makes a New Zealander. Our dry wit, and our under-statement speaks volumes. You can never take yourself too seriously here because there's always someone around who will absolutely take the piss, and you will regret it - trust me.
Have a great weekend folks :)

Discovery

OK - so the album is like 3 years old - but I love this song.
Check it out if you're in a folk type of mood.
Damien Rice - The Blowers Daughter

Keep Cool til After School

I am truly a child of the seventies. Although I was born in the sixties, for some unexplained reason, the memories of my childhood revolve around 1977: What came before 1977, and what came afterward.

Before 1977 I remember growing up in rural Canterbury, then travelling to the Cook Islands, where I lived for 2 years. During those formative years there was no TV - but there was music, and books. In reading, I developed an active imagination, and to this day I can still get lost in a book. I joke that now when I'm reading or watching TV, you first have to open a channel of communication before I can hear you. Simply put: you must say my name first. This isn't me being rude: i simply cant hear you unless you do. Until then I'm not there with you - I'm somewhere else.

Its hard to know why ''77 was a pivotal year. We moved to Dunedin in ''76, and boy was I ever green. Living around kids in the Cooks who weren't sophisticated types (read: didn't lie, cheat, or use sarcasm), it's a wonder I made it out of a New Zealand Intermediate school in one piece. Again; today I often feel a little naive about the way i interpret other peoples actions - I've spent all my time catching up I guess.

In spite of the lack of street smarts, I'm happy about where I am. I'm not any part of a flock of sheep, congregating in groups, saying nothing. Don't get me wrong -I'm no leader either, but I have a strong notion of self, and that's important when we live in a climate where conformity seems more important than individuality.

This post is going somewhere - I'm sure of it.

Normally the phase "When I was young" would only apply to sad old gits who whine about the youth of today, and when I hear that phrase, normally I'd change the radio to another station and shake my head and sigh - but today I'm not so sure. This is because the world has changed a lot in the intervening years - and so have it's youth. Any of us older than 40 have had some small part in making what we have, that surrounds us. I'm not proud of that fact.

If we are simply growing up sooner, then either we have to somehow slow things down again, or accept that a youth that commits an "adult" crime be treated as an adult. Holding on to the past is a nice idea - but if the past no longer applies, perhaps we can just remember those endless summers long ago when the world seemed a safer place, and smile, knowing we got to live there once upon a time.

Battlestar's Back

Tricky relationships are always interesting.

On the 6th of October the first episode of season three will air in the US.
Yes - I am a geek.
Yes - this means I will not get laid any time soon.

I dont care - I await, with interest, the relationship between Apollo and Starbuck. The fact she's now married may throw a spanner in the works. Perhaps Apollo will now take more risks?
We will see - I guess.

Starbuck is perhaps one of the most interesting characters in on TV today - period. And the fact she looks like a very good friend of mine just adds to the mix.

Yes - again - I know I am a geek :)

Banksy

Whilst tripping the blogsphere, I dropped in to see Green St Girl and came across her article on Banksy.
I'm not sure if agree with the whole grafitti art thing - I guess for me it comes down to a combination of the talent of the artist, the subject matter, and the area painted.
One of my biggest regrets is that I can not draw. I'd love to be able to do this type of stuff. Until then I guess I can trace.
Take a look at Banksy's website here, I'd be interested in your thoughts on this type of art. Dont be shy - there are no right or wrong opinions....

BTW: I found the information on his site;

A guide to cutting stencils

• Think from outside the box.

• Collapse the box and take a fucking sharp knife to it.

• Leave the house before you find something worth staying in for.

• It's easier to get forgiveness than permission.

• Spray the paint sparingly onto the stencil from a distance of 8 inches.

• Be aware that going on a major mission totally drunk out of your head will result in some truly spectacular artwork and at least one night in the cells.

• When explaining yourself to the Police its worth being as reasonable as possible. Graffiti writers are not real villains. I am always reminded of this by real villains who consider the idea of breaking in someplace, not stealing anything and then leaving behind a painting of your name in four foot high letters the most retarded thing they ever heard of.

• Remember crime against property is not real crime. People look at an oil painting and admire the use of brushstrokes to convey meaning. People look at a graffiti painting and admire the use of a drainpipe to gain access.

• The time of getting fame for your name on its own is over. Artwork that is only about wanting to be famous will never make you famous. Any fame is a by-product of making something that means something. You don't go to a restaurant and order a meal because you want to have a shit.

It's time to Junk Top Gear

I couldnt find this article on the web, so I should point out it was written by Johann Hari for the Independant newspaper in the UK. (Please dont sue me guys).

Article Starts here;

Jeremy Clarkson's speed addiction is a health hazard, and not just for him, writes Johann Hari

Ho Ho. For Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and their army of Top Gear speedophiles, driving cars so fast they can smash a skull or kill a child has been a subject for uproarious laughter and acidic hate for years now.
Clarkson has declared "speeding is no big deal" and shouldn't be punished with points on your licence. He has supported the gangs of thugs going around smashing the British speed cameras that have -- according to independent studies - saved more than 1000 lives. And he has derided anybody who disagrees as a "health and safety Nazi".
His acolyte "Hamster" Hammond said that because of these views, Clarkson should be made Mayor of London so he can "roar around London in a Lamborghini with a mayoral flagpole, shooting cyclists".
Now Hammond is lying in a hospital bed, lucky his life was not ended by this adolescent need for speed. I wonder if Clarkson, as he stared tearfully at the wounds of one of his best mates and comforted Hammond's wife and kids, thought back to all the times they have used Britain's big death toll from speeding as a glib punchline.
Did he remember the column he wrote recently, in which he declared, "Of course, in France speeding is endemic and this means they have a far, far higher death rate than we do. But let's be frank here. You can't really judge a country by the number of people who don't die in car accidents"?
Did he remember the snarling contempt with which he responded to pleas from the AA and some of Britain's most senior traffic cops to stop encouraging people to break the law? Does he see now why we "Nazis" try to slow cars down?
I have never engaged with Clarkson's arguments in my columns because he doesn't have any. I may as well engage with one of the Tweenies.
He is merely the court jester for the petrolhead death cult, a far-right jokesmith gripped by an erotic obsession with inanimate metal objects. A man whose response to global warming is to deny its existence and brag that he leaves his patio heater on 24 hours a day "just to wind up Greenpeace" is not a person to argue with; he's a person to ignore.
But as he has learned in the past few days, Clarkson's unserious statements can have serious consequences. The chief speedophile's campaign against speed cameras has vastly increased the number of people like Hammond lying injured in a hospital bed. It's hard to find a logical thread in Clarkson's opposition to the Gatso (speed) cameras.At times, he claims he is angry because they don't actually save lives but international studies show this is nonsense. Speeding has fallen 40 per cent in areas with speed cameras - and that has huge consequences.
If you smack into a child at 30mph, the odds he or she will die are 50 per cent. If you hit them at 20mph, their chances of dying fall to 10 per cent. When confronted with these basic facts, Clarkson switches his jabberings into a different lane. He begins to argue that he opposes speed cameras because politicians have installed them simply to pay for their junkets".
But as Clarkson admitted last year recent figures show Britain's 6000 Gatso cameras earned £110 million ($314 million) last year but made a profit of just £12 million".
In governmental terms, that is a pittance. So ... they aren't "raking in money", then, are they Jeremy? That's because the Government has installed the cameras for the reason they say they have: to save lives.
Then Clarkson is left to fall back on the case that he is a brave defender of the rights of ordinary people from a "1984-style" Government. But the right of an individual to drive at 50mph doesn't weigh much against the right of a pedestrian not to be killed and Clarkson knows it.
That's why-- when his mercifully unbroken back is against the wall - he confesses: "I don't curse speed cameras because of civil liberty issues. l curse them because they slow me down."
He describes speeding as a glorious aesthetic experience he is prepared to take huge risks to indulge in. This pure distilled glee is at the core of his hatred of speed cameras; the rest is just a rationalist sheen that is easily scraped away. But this makes it clear how purely selfish his defence of speeding is.
So Clarkson and his groupies can feel an adrenalin rush, there has to be a bloodsacrifice on our roads that tops even the death toll jihadists have so far inflicted on us. (If this sounds like hyperbole, remember: The death toll from 7/7 is racked up every fortnight on our tarmac by Mullah Clarkson's soulmates.)
Of course, if these sad boy-men want to pay to go on private land and take risks with their own safety - as Hammond did in this instance - they should be allowed to, just as you are allowed to go mountaineering or chain smoke or (in my case) eat too much lard. If Clarkson wants to commit suicide, who are we to stop him?
But these Top Gear toffs posing as ordinary blokes know most of their viewers will speed on ordinary roads, where they will smack into ordinary people. (Hammond thankfully seems to be recovering. Every year, 1000 of his fellow Brits never do.)
Indeed, Clarkson brags about his ability to speed on real roads, saying he can find sustained "high octane, red-line thrills" on Britain's standard-issue tarmac any day.
The rhetoric of this tiresome eunuch doesn't only blatantly encourage his viewers to speed; it has bullied and intimidated the Government too. Richard Brunstrom, the chief constable of North Wales, says: "Police resources have slowly drifted away from road policing [over the past few years] because that is the Government's intention."
Even though the opinion polls show solid support for speed cameras, the Government is allowing this vocal, vacuous campaign to skew their priorities. And the BBC is giving it a swollen platform.
Clarkson seems not to have learned from his friend's accident, still raving at the weekend against "the environmentalists and ... muddle-headed road safety campaigners" in the very articles where he described his mate's injuries. But his blindness is no excuse for the BBC's.
It's time for the corporation to send the rusty, dangerous old piece of scrap called Top Gear to the wrecker's yard-before it can maim and kill anyone else.
INDEPENDENT

I'm Fine.

I'm fine - really I am.
IG - I have not given back everything I've borrowed over the years. So you don't need to plan an intervention.
Mum - I'm not saying I will never be a Dad. I just think that it is a possibility you might consider....

Sheesh!!! - maybe sometimes I have a thought, and write it down - and god forbid I write a load of crap that isnt true. :)

So in the meantime, dont think it's all doom and gloom, It's just that I cant write nice stuff all the time. Life just isnt like that, and neither am I.
Regular transmission will resume soon. And it will be about Top Gear.

Love
Mark.

Funk.

"Duck", said the Narrator.

It's funny how the little things can really throw you off your stride. For the last week I've been walking around in the biggest funk: a partial depressed state of mind. The arrival of Asquared (who I will blog about soon) has offset this slide, and the contant flow of red wine and fine dining has set me back on the road to happiness once again.
So why the funk?
Last week I managed a trip to Christchurch; I had some work to do with some people there, and I even managed to stay an extra day because I got involved in a nasty fault.
Serendipidiously my folks were also passing through at the time so I managed to spend a couple of days with them, but all this isnt what threw me out of whack: It was Coffee Girl.
In all fairness it wasnt even her fault - I was planning to drop in for a quick chat, and possibly meet her partner.
I arrived pretty much on time, and as a bonus got to meet her little daughter, who is, by the way, as cute as a button. The trouble is: I like kids. Obviously other peoples kids, because I eventually get to give them back to their harried, sleep deprived parents. I realised a long time ago that I really dig kids. Although one or two can be a bit shy around me, most can't wait to show me all their toys and books. Years ago I remember reading to Georgia when she was small, I even remember going around to see Tim and Sands just so I could catch up with her. It was an amazing thing to do, and in a strange way, really put the world in perspective. Kids really have a way of doing that.
Anyway - I was chillin with Coffee Girl's toddler, checking the latest in pop up childrens lit and platics toys, when Coffee Girl said "Mark, you'd make a great Dad".
You know - I think she was right. Problem is: realising I may never get to find out.

Our problem children

Image from Whaleoil

I've been thinking about our politicans and their recent muck raking campaigns to discredit each other. Here are some points I'd like to consider;

1) They behave deplorably
2) They don't take responsibility for their actions
3) They lie to us.
4) If they don't get their way they change the laws to say its OK.

They are basically children, and don't deserve to be treated any differently. I for one believe that the time has come to treat them as they deserve to be treated - with contempt.

They are our elected representatives, and should behave (at least publicly) as such. How many times must New Zealanders be reminded - THEY WORK FOR US!!!!

Until they grow up I suggest we drop their honorific titles, at least until they deserve them. So no more Prime Minister or Right honourable - lets just use their real names because they are no better than us.
Respect is earned, not given lightly.

State of the Nation

Pretty much states my headspace at the moment.

Mary Stuart Masterson is a Goddess

Yes: Mary Stuart Masterson is a Goddess.

When I first started taking photo's, I started with sports: first Rugby, then Motor sports. Eventually I got bored watching motorcycles go around and around in circles: Now I'm now mostly grown up I watch Formula One on TV where cars go around and around in circles. But I digress; because my friends, when it comes to photography, cars and bikes may be nice, but eventually you'll realise the real deal as subjects are people.

Take the photo above; metaphorically I mean - because this actual photo is mine - ALL MINE. It is not for you.

Mary is without a doubt the most talented and attractive character actress of her time. And although I will never meet her in person, I would like to comment on what I believe the photographer has captured.

Note the lack of formal clothing and jewelry and the imperfect hair, suggesting a practical, no nonsense approach to life.
Note the strong angles with the left arm, and the equally strong angle on the right, creating an impression of strength of character.
Note the tilt of the head, and the sadness in her eyes that seems to be mirrored by her expressionless mouth, designed to promote a sort of vulnerability or ambiguity.
The use of the chair as a barrier to symbolize the barrier she perhaps has to keep between her public persona and the real private person beneath. The hand through the chair perhaps to say she is not entirely shut off from the world.
The use of the brown and warm colors to create a feeling, that this is a good, kind, warm, down to earth person.

What I am trying to say, badly, is that a photo can mean many things to many people. A portrait can capture many different emotions, often dependent on the viewer, and a good photographer can, on occasion, capture a moment in time when the subjects character can truly shine through. It's rewarding when it happens.

Borat - believe it or not!

I stole this article from here.

Bush to hold talks on Ali G creator after diplomatic row.


US President George Bush is to host White House talks on British comedian Sacha Baron Cohen.
Cohen, 35, creator of Ali G, has infuriated the Kazakhstan government with his portrayal of Borat, a bumbling Kazakh TV presenter.
And now a movie of Borat's adventures in the US has caused a diplomatic incident.
The opening scene, which shows Borat lustily kissing his sister goodbye and setting off for America in a car pulled by a horse, had audiences in stitches when it was first shown last week.
But the film, which has just premiered at the Toronto Film Festival, has prompted a swift reaction from the Kazakhstan government, which is launching a PR blitz in the States.
Kazakhstan president Nursultan Nazarbayev is to fly to the US to meet President Bush in the coming weeks and on the agenda will be his country's image.
President Nazarbayev has confirmed his government will buy "educational" TV spots and print advertisements about the "real Kazakhstan" in a bid to save the country's reputation before the film is released in the US in November.
President Nazarbayev will visit the White House and the Bush family compound in Maine when he flies in for talks that will include the fictional character Borat.
But a spokesman for the Kazakhstan Embassy says it is unlikely that President Nazarbayev will find the film funny.
Roman Vassilenko said: "The Government has expressed its displeasure about Borat's representation of our country.
"Our opinion of the character has not changed. "We understand that the film exposes the hypocrisy that exists both here in the USA and in the UK and understand that Mr Cohen has a right to freedom of speech."Nursultan Nazarbayev has taken Mr Bush up on an invitation to visit this country to help build our relationship with the USA. "I cannot speak for the president himself, only for the government, but I certainly don't think President Nazarbayev and Mr Bush will share a joke about the film. "The bottom line is we want people to know that he does not represent the true people of Kazakhstan."

The Kazakh government has previously threatened Baron-Cohen with legal action, for allowing Borat to, among other things, make fun of his homeland, demean women, slander gypsies and urge listeners to "Throw the Jew Down the Well."

Anti-Borat hard-liners have pulled the plug on borat.kz, Borat's Kazakhstan-based Website after his frequent displays of anti-Semitism and his portrayal of Kazakh culture.
Nurlan Isin, President of the Association of Kazakh IT Companies took the action after complaints. He said: "We've done this so he can't badmouth Kazakhstan under the .kz domain name. "He can go and do whatever he wants at other domains."

The row originally erupted in November 2005, following Borat's hosting of the MTV Europe Music Awards in Lisbon. The Kazakh Foreign Ministry was furious over Cohen's bad taste representation of the nation.

'No such thing as bad publicity'

Foreign Ministry spokesman Yerzhan Ashykbayev told a news conference: "We view Mr. Cohen's behaviour at the MTV Europe Music Awards as utterly unacceptable, being a concoction of bad taste and ill manners which is completely incompatible with the ethics and civilized behaviour of Kazakhstan's people. "We reserve the right to any legal action to prevent new pranks of the kind."

Baron Cohen responded to Ashykbayev in character by posting a video on the Official Borat website. In the video, Borat said, "In response to Mr. Ashykbayev's comments, I'd like to state I have no connection with Mr. Cohen and fully support my Government's decision to sue this Jew.

"Since the 2003 Tuleyakiv reforms, Kazakhstan is as civilized as any other country in the world. "Women can now travel on inside of bus, homosexuals no longer have to wear blue hats, and age of consent has been raised to eight years old."

His blatant outpouring then prompted the Kazakh government to hire two public relations firms to counter the claims, and ran a four-page advertisement in The New York Times. The ad carried testimonials about the nation's democracy, education system and the power and influence enjoyed by women. News of President Nazarbayev's upcoming visit has prompted experts to study the character's impact on US culture.

Sean R. Roberts, Central Asian Affairs Fellow at Georgetown University, has been studying the phenomenon.

He said: "I have found that more Americans are aware of Kazakhstan than four years ago when I last lived in the United States. "The increased knowledge of Kazakhstan, however, is not due to the country's economic successes or its role as a U.S. ally in the war on terror. "Instead, most Americans who have heard of Kazakhstan have heard of it through a satire of a Kazakh journalist named Borat.

"Borat certainly does not promote an image of Kazakhstan that is in sync with that which the government and its leader would like to promote abroad. "As the old adage goes, however, 'there is no such thing as bad publicity.' "If that is true, Borat is bringing much more publicity to Kazakhstan."

Cohen's representatives refused to allow him or his alter ego to respond to the controversy because it's not close enough to the film's release date.

The geek in me

Firefly fans unite!
Sign up to try and get a second series of Firefly on the TV.
Do it here, and I conjure you'll never regret it.
"You just can just take the book of my life and jump in at the middle"
Say's a lot about me - as does this post. :)

Ode to IG

I was talking to IG this evening and this morning, and in both cases the conversion flowed like the second bottle of a great red wine, just after a particularly stunning bottle of first red wine.
Guy conversations are never boring: they are fill of partial "bits", that to a casual girl observer would never make sense of.
for example;

Car?
Fixed
Valves?
Yep
Bollocksy mechanics!
Too bloody right.

Guys can talk for hours - debating the latest XBox game - to asking the universal questions of why all my girl friends like girls, and why slim girls always surround themselves with not so slim girls.
Guys are so unPC - and that is a good thing. In a guy conversation, what you see is what you get. No stone unturned - no truth unsaid.
When asking why I am still single - a guy response may well be "Because you're soooo fucking ugly - thats why".
Well I'm happy we got that sorted then - shall we move on to world peace then? Nah - lets have a bourbon on ice and a white owl cigar - It's been a long day.

The guys conversation is rarely heard in the home anymore. Sometimes the guy may make the mistake of uttering a line of "guy speak" within air shot of a women - or worse a wife. I had a friend who once decided that it was safer to say "I have no opinion on that honey" to every dodgy question his wife asked. It didn't work for long. It seems that the irony of honesty is not lost on the opposite sex. What would I know? All my friends are girls: and they like other girls.

So while I was discussing the irony that is my life - we skipped from conversation to conversation - much like a stone skipping on a clear still lake, until the inevitable sinking of the stone, when IG mentioned he was naked.

Nuff said.

Only happy when it rains

Artist's impression of subject

Have you ever been close to someone, only to find out eventually they were a complete nut bar?
A name out of my past has come back to haunt me, and although it has been over two years since we spoke the feeling of loss is daunting.
Don't get me wrong, it's not a feeling of sadness or remorse - I was totally happy to remove the "5 foot something" pile of crazy from my life. It was for the best - really it was. I just regret I spent so much time and energy trying to help solve a problem that had no solution.
But like all those other disasters in my life, I learnt from it - and although it killed me a little to live through it - and killed me a lot more to let it go, I never ever regretted it.
Some may say I had no right to interfere to offer help, but it was a friend, and for a while I think it helped. In the end I just ran out of energy, I'm sure "a certain someone" blames me for my failure - of that I'm sure.
I'm just thankful that I learnt something from the whole thing, and although the name spoken or written still makes me feel physically sick, I realize in time my memories will blur enough to totally forget. But in order for that to happen I cant really stand to hear that name anymore.
Does that make me a shallow person?

Everything Affleck

Affleck and alterego Damon take Best Actor Award for Pearl Harbour.

Anonymous said...this is very interesting, tell us more about ben affleck.8:17 AM

OK I will....

Ben Affleck is a fictional character. He has appeared in numerous movies - most recently in Kevin Smith's Clerks 2. In actually Affleck has appeared in a number of Kevin Smith's films but confusingly in all cases, known by other names. His aliases are many and varied; Shannon Hamilton, Holden McNeil, Bartleby, Himself, Ollie Trinke, and Gawking Guy.

Affleck has had an interesting career. At one time or another he has worked in the following jobs; Sheriff, Miner/Astronaut, Angel cast from Heaven, Captain, Comic Book Artist, Government agent, Blind Superhero, and Mobster to name but a few. I wonder where he gets the time. I suspect he had padded his CV ; as he was born in 1972, which would have made him -31 in 1941, and hence too young to enlist as a Captain.

However even superhero's have flaws: he is a complete womaniser. He has had relationships with Alyssa Jones, Grace Stamper, Bridget Cahill, Ashley Mercer, Elektra Natchios, Dr. Rachel Porter. Often seeming to be heading to marital bliss at the end of his last movie Affleck suddenly appears uninvolved at the start of his next movie. Girls beware!

In a vague reference to this shady past Kevin Smith added a bogus reference to having to '86 dead hookers from his trailer....

Affleck is however currently married to Elektra Natchios, who herself, goes by many different names. It goes to show that truth is stranger than fiction.

Evidentally Affleck was the bomb in Phantoms. We know this to be a fact; because Affleck actually said it himself in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.

Affleck also played himself in J.A.S.B.S.B - playing Chuckie Sullivan in Good Will Hunting 2 (Applesause). It was very ironic!

An interesting true story.

Affleck was the bomb in Phantoms!

Note: This article was severely edited from Wikipedia. The original information is here.

I always liked this story when I heard it in Good Will Hunting because;
1) The language of mathematics broke culteral and class barriers in the early 1900's between a poor Indian student, and a learned Cambridge mathematician, and
2) True talent comes not from training, but from our truest desires.

Srinivāsa Aiyangār Rāmānujan was an Indian mathematician and one of the greatest mathematical geniuses of the twentieth century. He is widely considered the greatest mathematical prodigy that the world has ever seen.

A child prodigy, he was largely self-taught in mathematics and had compiled over 3,000 theorems between 1914 and 1918 at the University of Cambridge. Often, his formulas were merely stated, without proof, and were only later proven to be true. His results were highly original and unconventional, and have inspired a large amount of research and many mathematical papers; however, some of his discoveries have been slow to enter the mathematical mainstream.

In 1898, at age 10, he entered the Town High School in Kumbakonam, where he may have encountered formal mathematics for the first time. At 11 he had mastered the mathematical knowledge of two lodgers at his home, both students at the Government College, and was lent books on advanced trigonometry written by S. L. Loney, which he mastered by age 13. His peers at the time commented later, "We, including teachers, rarely understood him" and "stood in respectful awe" of him.At this time in his life, he was quite poor and was often near the point of starvation.

In late 1912 and early 1913 Ramanujan sent letters and examples of his theorems to three Cambridge academics: H. F. Baker, E. W. Hobson, and G. H. Hardy. Only Hardy, a Fellow of Trinity College to whom Ramanujan wrote in January 1913, recognized the genius demonstrated by the theorems.

Although Hardy was one of the pre-eminent mathematicians of his day and an expert in several of the fields Ramanujan was writing about, he commented, "many of them defeated me completely; I had never seen anything in the least like them before."

After some initial skepticism, Hardy replied with comments, requesting proofs for some of the discoveries, and began to make plans to bring Ramanujan to England.

Plagued by health problems all of his life, living in a country far from home, and obsessively involved with his studies, Ramanujan's health worsened in England, perhaps exacerbated by stress, and by the scarcity of vegetarian food during the First World War.
He returned to India in 1919 and died soon after in Kumbakonam, his final gift to the world being the discovery of 'mock theta functions'.

G. H. Hardy wrote of Ramanujan:

* "I still say to myself when I am depressed, and find myself forced to listen to pompous and tiresome people, 'Well, I have done one thing you could never have done, and that is to have collaborated with both Littlewood and Ramanujan on something like equal terms.'"

* "I remember once going to see Ramanujan when he was lying ill at Putney. I had ridden in taxi cab number 1729 and remarked that the number seemed to me rather a dull one, and that I hoped it was not an unfavorable omen. 'No,' he replied, 'it is a very interesting number; it is the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways.'"

* "...[T]he greatest mathematicians made their most significant discoveries when they were very young. Galois who died at 20, Abel at 26, and Riemann at 39, had actually made their mark in history. So the real tragedy of Ramanujan was not his early death at the age of 32, but that in his most formative years, he did not receive proper training, and so a significant part of his work was rediscovery..."

Me and me mates are islands

I lived here!

In my opinion, all men are islands.
And what's more, now's the time to be one.
This is an island age.

Every man is an island. And I stand by that.
But clearly, some men are part of island chains.
Below the surface of the ocean they're actually connected.

These words of wisdom from Nick Hornby

Did I mention that we are basically misunderstood? Oh and deep as well!

Car Guys

Not the authors first choice

I must admit I've taken a few knocks lately. A couple of weeks after being told I wasn't good enough to be introduced as a possible date to a girl, my friends now say I should buy a Toyota Corolla.
It is a well known fact that you are not what you eat, but what you drive. Suggesting I am a potential Toyota Corolla driver cuts to the core essence of who I am. And I'm damn sure I'm not ready to drive into a life of four door domesticality - well at least not yet.
When I suggested a hot hatch, say in the theme of a VW Golf or 206 GTI, IG said, "But it's French - are you sure it's you?". He then went on to further insult me by suggesting an Australian Holden or Ford might be more my cup of tea...Ouch.
I think it's important to take time to explain just how shallow we car guys can be. For car guys a car is an extension of oneself. Like a favourite t shirt or clothes that sum up how we see ourselves, a car is an integral part of how we want others to see us. You may think that a Toyota Corolla is a good practical car; and you'd be right. A Toyota Corolla is also a sensible car choice - they run and run, are cheap to fix if they break, and the resale value is often good. But although these are all perfectly good reasons to buy a Corolla, they are also the exact same reasons that send the car guys running and screaming for the hills at the thought of owning said car. Does a car guy want to drive what is effectively the plaid suit of the car world? I think not! Buying the Corolla says you either dont care what people think about you, or worse, you really think its a good car. Either way the car guy laughs at the Corolla driver, and would rather spend time on the side of the road fixing his Italian 70's sportcar with crap electrics (BUT with lots of street cred), simply because he can talk at length about the whole thing with his car buddies later. The more exotic the fault the more worthwhile the car.
To the car guy it's an accepted fact that the more exclusive or stupid your car choice, the more you'll be happy with the choice. Take a V8, or something exceedingly small - either is fine. Pick a standout colour and make it as impractical as possible. Or better yet, choose not to own a car - because for the car guy it's not what car you drive today, but the potential car you could drive tomorrow.

Musings

You know - the muse just isnt there.
I could go on about about how I find it odd than men with moustaches get laid...but...no
I could discuss my fruitless search for a new movie that invokes an emotional response...but...nah
I could take a general rant and wax lyrical - but you know - It's just not happening.
IG probably hit it on the head when he said ( and I'm paraphrasing here) "we dont have to endure sad fucking storys about your return to Auckland do we ?"
No you dont - and when the muse takes me: I'll be back. It may even be tomorrow - but it isnt today.

Technical Difficulties

If for some reason the previous video clip doesnt show in Firefox, just "right click" on the video's player control panel (next to the the play button) and select Options. Change the video acceleration pointer to the middle position as in this screen shot.

Then click OK.
Some Firefox users commented you could only see the clip when scrolling. This should sort that problem. Internet Explorer users should have no issues. Except for still using Internet Explorer that is :)
It took me over an hour working on this to realise it wasnt an html coding issue - and it was just a Firefox glitch in the end. Yes I have no life.
BTW:I also stopped the video from auto playing - so you have to press the play button to start the clip - just wait a few seconds for it to buffer first ok?
But all that said, it is worth it in the end I assure you. Bears rock!

Holiday music.

This song was going on and on inside my head while skiing. People on the slopes must have been wondering why I kept saying "hip hip" for no apparent reason :)

The lyrics are below the clip, should you be interested. Enjoy!

weezer - island in the sun (ver 1)

Hip hip
Hip hip
Hip hip
Hip hip

When you're on a holiday
You can't find the words to say
All the things that come to you
And I wanna feel it too

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

Hip hip
Hip hip

When you're on a golden sea
You don't need no memory
Just a place to call your own
As we drift into the zone

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

We'll run away together
We'll spend some time forever
We'll never feel that anymore

Hip hip
Hip hip
Hip hip

Meet Frank

Ok - so I have a problem. Apparently last year I discovered a nasty thing - I am a perfectionist. For some strange reason this "perfection angle" doesnt apply to my bedroom - which is currently a bomb site. It also (apparently) doent apply to my kitchen, where I have yet to clean tonights dishes. My perfection is, for some reason, the way I approach "projects".
I've always liked certain things "just so". When I decide to so things like restore a car, or even a Raleigh Chopper bicycle, half arsed is just not good enough. Although I cant paint or draw I love to create something beautiful every now and again, and in a funny kind of way skiing is about the only sport I take seriously enough to be a project.
A while back now, when I decided I was going to give this skiing thing a real go, I decided I wasnt just going to snow plow down a slope - I was going to master the damn thing, and ski with style and grace. I now realise that this will probably be a lifelong exercise. This is because I only ski for two weeks a year, and even then not every day I'm on holiday. So if I want to achieve this goal I need an edge. Meet Frank.

Use the force Mark!

Frank is an excellent ski instructor who drew the short straw many years ago, and has so far managed to mould, what was initially a wad of cookie dough, into a carving fool. If you are ever in Queenstown in the winter, and feel the need to take the plunge into what I promise you is an excellent way to spend the day, grab Frank for a lesson - he's the real deal. Say you know Mark from Auckland and he may share some insite into my compulsive need to ski :)
I hasten to add It's also a unique experience to have an instructor from New Zealand, while you're in New Zealand.
This year was a landmark one in my ski development. I now have turned the corner, and actually find it hard to "skid- ski" in a more traditional style - now I'm pretty much carving all the time. This in a way mean's I have (momentarily) stepped back a little to concentrate on control - something I had mastered before I moved on to the new style of skiing. It's just that I'm skiing with so much more speed now - it's amazing.
Sorry for the rant on skiiing - beware it's seductive nature. I fell and so can you.
Thanks for another great year Frank!

Everything old is new again

Today was the first week day I've had in Dunedin since April so I was busy catching up on all the stuff I couldn't do in the weekend. After a bit of a lie-in I headed off to see my Capri which is in storage. It was just as I left it; I connected the battery and started her up to make sure everything was going as it should - it was great seeing the old girl running again.
After that I visited my ex work-mates at Downer Engineering. It was really great to see all the people I used to work with. Nig's was in top form, and looked really great after what must have been a pretty shitty year for her. It's hard to believe it's nearly been four years since I've left, but in so many ways I'm a completely different person to the one who left all those years ago. Everything was still as I remember it, like I'd just been on a couple of weeks leave, due to start back there today. Obviously my Downers life is over, however the best part (i.e. the friendships), remain strong.
After lunch with Murray and Robbie I headed off to see Sandra and Keri. These two girls I've known for the longest time. I've blogged on Sandra here, and have yet to write about Keri - dont worry, I will when I get up the courage. Needless to say I really miss their company when I'm in Auckland - Keri for her no bull attitude and wicked sense of humour, and Sands because we have so much history together. Tim tams and afternoon tea behind me I headed off to see Craig (Keri's husband) to talk some bull (as guys do). I then rushed off to pick up my ski's (now prepared for next season), before racing off to Fairfield to help Mum and Dad move furniture around so they could get their new carpet put down tomorrow.
All in all a busy day, but the weird thing is this; it's like all the "old" experiences I had today have somehow been made new again. Perhaps the connections we make in this life renew with every revisit? Maybe each friend we cross paths with restores some bond, maybe in some way made stronger. It seems that even though I no longer live here, my friendships are as strong as ever.
Dunnoz rocks!

It's all over

I faced today with a certain trepidation. It's my last day in Queenstown - tomorrow I head back to Dunnoz until Tuesday, when I fly back to Auckland.
As always there have been a few upsets during my time away, mostly involving work. It's amazing how a change in working conditions can upset people, especially when communication from management is poor. I've gotten used to change over the last few years, but I've never brought into the "Who moved my Cheese" arguement, which basically states everything changes and adapting to change is the best thing you can do - not, "they" hasten to add, look for cheese outside your current job. Like most people I look at the whole package - if "they" keep reducing my package I may choose to leave - and honestly - if you're not prepared to do that, you might as well ask your boss to treat you like shit. Believe me - they tend to in those situations anyway.
New Zealander's as a whole work too damn hard these days - dont get me wrong, that's not always a bad thing; there just has to be a balance between your work and home life. New Zealander's have to strive to find that balance, perhaps in the process we may manage to reduce those horrific suicide numbers we hear about all the time.
On a lighter note I'm trying to think of what to countdown to on my countdown timer now skiing is over - If you have any suggestions drop me an email. In the meantime I'll play with a few ideas. Oh - and if the tone of my posts are a little "blue" over the next couple of weeks - I'll get over it. It's just the South Island is a completely different place to visit than the North, and it takes a bit of time to aclimatise once you get back.

The fine art of falling over

So - I'm trying this the old fashioned way. I'm writing this post on paper, then later I plan to type this all down.
IG arrived sans Tyler last night - so we are now three in Q'town. Fat Trevor, IG and I dropped into the Cow tonight for fun and games around a couple of large pizzas. If you are EVER in Queenstown you must visit the Cow. The Cow offers a rustic dining experience, not to mention lovely pasta and pizza. If you prefer a combination perhaps a bolognese pizza - its a favourite staple of visitors to this fine town.
So - full of pizza we rented Serenity and series one of Scrubs, and settled down with a bottle of 42 Below. I have discovered similar traits to my friends and scrubs characters. IG is Turk, while Trevor is Todd. I continue to be JD - much to my regret, and I'm starting to think Doctor Cox is Kibbles.
Needless to say - the vodka bottle was dealt to and we all sloped off to bed giggling like schoolgirls. It was a good day :)
Tomorrow, Frank, my patient ski instructor will attempt once again to take me to the next level of ski godliness - he is perhaps an eternal optimist. I will blog on Frank in an upcoming post.
As the day comes to and end, I must reluctantly count down another day of my leave. Reality beckons, and I dont like the tune it's humming. Holidays are a brilliant opportunity to put your life on hold - avoiding decisions for another day. Long may holidays rein, still nothing lasts forever.

Damn spelling mistakes

Shoot this man!

At the moment I'm writing from an Internet Cafe, getting charged 10 cents a minute, and though I have all the time in the world I still tend to rush.
Normally I take my time online and although some of my blogs dont seem it - I actually make an effort to try and make some sense in my posts. Nothing pisses me off more than checking my blog remotely via my mobile and finding a spelling mistake - knowing full well I can't change it until the next day. God - it's like wearing a red and green sock at the same time, and being told you cant change them (even though there's an identical pair in your sock drawer)- anarchy!!!!
On the plus side; I'm definately getting used to the snow conditions here - and am fast becoming a confident skier on ice. The break from home is working well and although I'm missing Cheezel's hugs, I'm already losing track of world events. I hear there have been major hassles at work, but I'm managing to skirt a fine line between gossip and getting involved. Juicy stuff all the same...

My biggest worry at the moment is why they havent voted off Santino in Project Runway. [Beware: Possible Spoilers in link]. The man is horrid!!!!!!!

So, apart from Project Runway, life is good, though I can't help but think peace in the Middle East will ever happen, if I can't even begin to forgive Telecom. So I must work on that... oh and my spelling... maybe just the spelling then?

Skiing but not as we know it.

Night Skiing on Friday nights!

It seems that the snow conditions were stellar "last week", but upon my arrival it has rained on the ski field, turning beautiful snow into sheet ice with delicate sugar type snow frosting.

While a new dumping a snow will always be appreciated, one can get by in the meantime with a pair of ice-skates. I refuse to let the conditions get me down - I can yet attain a new level of ski-godliness, which I hasten to add, has nothing to do with being clean.

So to those planing on staying next week - get all your bitching over before you arrive, as I wont have a bar of it while you're here. Speaking of bar's, you'll be pleased to know the beer, wine and food remain top notch, as always.

And to anyone contemplating visiting New Zealand, a winter stay in Queenstown is a must.

Anyhoo - gotta rush. To the pub!!!!

The beautiful people

Years ago, in Dunedin, someone had gone to the lengths of painting grafitti on a piece of fencing. Every day as I drove to work it would shout its message as I went by. The message, by the way, was "Absolute beauty rules"; and Queenstown proves its point.

It can be a daunting prospect - surrounded by the young, attractive, and wealthy. I can't work out why it never bothered me in the past - perhaps because I never noticed it to the same degree, or perhaps now I realise that I have none of the prerequisites to be here?

Although, buried beneath the layers of ski clothing, the distinctions can blur, and perhaps for a while we can be one. This I can only hope.

Drinking in Dunnoz

Stepping off the plane in Dunedin yesterday, I was filled with a slight dis-ease. A long stopover at Wellington, and second two hour flight on a smaller aircraft to Dunedin made me a little bit queasy, but my primary concern was how I would aclimatise to my latest visit.

Earlier in the day I had an early wake up at 5am, and with the all blacks playing the Wallabies in Australia at 10pm - it was always going to be a long day. Today I'm still tired, and still feeling a little out of sorts - but it's good to be home.

Tomorrow I plan to drive for approximately 4 hours to Queenstown, where I'll stay for the next two weeks. Skiing is an obvious starter, but I plan to visit a few old haunts; especially the Cow Restaurant, and the Luge track at the Skyline. This week my family is joining me which will be good. IG and Fat Trevor are coming next weekend, so will hopefully have a balanced two weeks; first resting then next week drinking too much red wine and vodka.

It's odd you know. Today I was sitting in a nice bar with IG, drinking a nice red, listening to an 80's soul mix from the bar's music system and I think we were the only ones there. That's not a bad thing - in fact the distinct lack of people around me was a pleasant alternative the busy bustle that is my Auckland life. And that's a good thing when you're on holiday.

The RIAA are fuckwits

The RIAA really piss me off. I happen to be one of the millions of people that use Youtube to watch video clips of music I'm thinking of buying.

So today I go to youtube, and try to watch the music video by Keane called Everybody changes. It's got a real neat piano riff, and I was interested in seeing the video.

But no - the stupid f$%^&*g RIAA have asked Youtube to remove said video, and now there is a red banner stating "This video has been removed at the request of the copyright owner RIAA because it's content was used without permission".

From Wikipedia

There is much criticism of the RIAA's policy and method of suing people for copyright infringement, notably with Internet-based pressure groups such as the Electronic Frontier Foundation, Boycott RIAA and FreeCulture ^[18]. To date, the RIAA has sued approximately 16,000 ^[19] people in the United States suspected of distributing copyrighted works, and have settled approximately 2,500 of the cases. There are some suggestions that the RIAA begins legal proceedings without any knowledge of whether they have engaged in copyright abuses or not ^[20].

The RIAA has been criticised in the media after they subpoenaed Gertrude Walton, an 83-year-old grandmother who had died in December of 2004 ^[21]. Mrs. Walton stood accused of swapping rock, pop and rap songs. The RIAA in 2003 attempted to sue Sarah Seabury Ward, a 66 year-old sculptor residing in Boston, Massachusetts. They alleged that she shared more than 2,000 songs illegally. The RIAA dropped the suit when it was discovered that she was a computer novice. The case was dismissed, but without prejudice.

The RIAA has also been criticised for bringing lawsuits against children, such as 12 year old Brianna LaHara in 2003 ^[22]. The RIAA also attempted to sue Candy Chan of Michigan, for the alleged actions of her daughter, 13 year old Brittany Chan. The court dismissed Priority Records v. Chan ^[23] because it was ruled that the mother could not be sued for the alleged infringements of her daughter. ^[24] When the court ruled in favor of the mother, dismissing the case, the RIAA proceeded to sue her child. However, prosecuting a minor is more difficult, and many previous adult defendants have said that the P2P software installation and copyright infringement was done without their knowledge by one of their children.

The RIAA's recent targeting of students has generated controversy as well. An April 4th story in the MIT campus newspaper The Tech indicates that an RIAA representative stated to Cassi Hunt, an alleged file-sharer, that previously, "the RIAA has been known to suggest that students drop out of college or go to community college in order to be able to afford settlements."^[25]

The RIAA has recently sent cease-and-desist letters to YouTube users for publishing their own works without licensing.^[26]

So f%$k you RIAA - I'm not going to buy the album now. And Keane - you've just lost a sale.

And you wonder why the music industry is in trouble.

But help is at hand...

When Life was simple.

A great vid if you have broadband.

Classic :)

Outlook for Thursday

Worst post ever!

Ha!

Life has paid back my perfect day post in spades.

Everything is still ok - but I have the shitiest network fault in the world to deal with at the moment. This only goes to prove that there is most possibly "a god" and that he enjoys tormenting me on occasion. Oh wait - upon reflection - my entire life :)

I dropped into see Tumorboy and Scrabble Queen for a lovely dinner. Tumorboy will probably have to retire his meatball recipe now - it cant get any better. It's no longer fair on the other dishes he creates.
This coupled with a nice bottle of Merlot equals a perfect evening - just what i needed to relax after a really long day yesterday - thanks guys.

I still dont know when I'm heading to Dunnoz - I must get my shit together!

Two days to skiing - and all I want to do is sleep. This is truely pathetic.

Waiting to be sued

Hmmmmm.....Nothing in my "in box" from Coffee girl. Should have got that release :)

I was raednig an eaiml the otehr day, sent, aagin, by my mum, that baisaclly says that as we only look at the frist and last lteer of each word to make snece of it, so any inetntal lettres cuold be jbumeld and you colud still read it. Fact or Fcitoin?

Atlohguh udner eaxinmtaoin the wohle prcoses semes to work bteter with lnoegr words tahn shoretr ones.

My brian hruts!

The Orignal Coffee Girl

Images have been changed to protect the innocent!

I think i was seventeen when I met Coffee Girl. As I recall, I first met her when my mum organized her as a blind date for my friend Raymond. To my recollection, Mum's never done this again - although if I could trust her choices were anywhere as good as her first attempt for Raymond - Id tell her to go for it tomorrow. If I could trust is another question I hasten to add....

Anyway - I don't think Raymond spoke to me for a couple of weeks afterward, because the blind date was for his brother's 21st (which I also attended), and I believe I spent the whole night talking to her.

Twenty three years later I'm still taking to her - and to me - it sometimes seems that little time has past since that first night together.

As we make our lives here, there and everywhere, we cross many people's paths. Some who we think will be lifelong friends quickly become distant memories, while other's drift away years later without a thought. With Coffee Girl, time or distance makes no difference. Last year I caught up with her in Sydney, Australia while I was there on a course. With us there's never an awkward moment to break the ice - it's like we never stopped talking. Seriously- years can (and have) gone by, even between phone calls - yet neither of us take this as a slight. I think the truth is that we think of each other often: I know I do.

Looking back to that 21st, I would have never realized she would come to be such a close friend. It's funny; I know we'll always be there for each other, but for the life of me I don't even want to know why I know these things - for me it's just a given.

I know what you're thinking but you're wrong. In truth, although I probably fell for her on more than one occasion, it was obvious (eventually) that she had her own trail to blaze, and that was that. I believe that much of this infatuation was due to the fact that she was an older woman (by six months) but hey that's a lot of difference at seventeen! She's always been more daring, and takes way more chances than me - and that I admire. I wonder if she thinks people see her this way? I doubt it. This girl rocks!

She's attractive, intelligent, fun, and a lovely girl. Never a woman tho - because in some way I see her as if we're both seventeen still. Well she's seventeen and a half - but who's counting.

Love ya girl! - See you soon. :)

A good day

You know when you have a really good day? When things really flow together ? Like life was some kind of jigsaw puzzle, and someone gave you a preview of what the puzzle looked like after it was finished.

So today, more than any other, I was on my game. All questions from contractors answered without pause. A nasty fault found, and rectified with the help of Dufus. A satisfying sense that finally I was accomplishing something, and that what I do means something.

But (and there has to be a but) I've been waking up at 4am in the morning - my mind racing about the stupidest things. Like this morning; I wake wondering what the hell I'm going to do with the V6 Capri I'm planning to drop a V8 Lexus motor in over Christmas this year. Questions like - How am I going to fit that into my two week break over Christmas? How many years will this car take me to restore? How much restoration can I do myself ? And finally how often will I get to drive the damn thing when it's in Dunedin and I'm in Auckland?

Ahh - now you can see how my mind works. This isn't really a dream about car restoration - this is a subconscious reminder that I have to stop living in two cities, and a time is approaching where I have to commit to one lifestyle over another.

The decision isn't as easy as it first sounds, and commitment isn't my strongest suit.

Sorry about the run of serious posts... I'm going to blog on the original "Coffee Girl" soon, I just have to get her to sign a release first :)

Murder - Would you like Fries with That?

Happier times at Strathmore School

Welcome to New Zealand - can we kill you now or would you prefer it later?

In what seems to be a slide into the insanity that is the real world; New Zealand is slowly going nuts.
I read in David Farrar's Kiwiblog that someone was killed over a scrabble game. In the last few months we've had;
A body floating in an Auckland harbour stuffed inside a suitcase
A body found with no hands and a partially decapitated head (don't get me started on how a head can be partially decapitated !!!!)
A sixty plus teacher killed in her classroom whilst preparing a lesson plan.
Untold stabbings and attacks in South Auckland. South Aucklander's that don't know there is an Auckland Harbour bridge!
Two baby twins killed by unknown members of their own families.

The list goes on....

So come to New Zealand!
You can leave any idea of personal responsibility "on the hook" when you arrive - just make sure you pick it up on your way out of the country.
Your defense for any bad behaviour, including the odd killing or aggravated assault? - simply say it wasn't your fault.
You will be rewarded by a cuddle from the people in power, especially if you can blame anyone else.
Don't forget to lawyer up- if you're accused you can get this for free!
Also claim some cultural insensitivity, to allow you some time to get your story straight before talking to the Police.
You can also take some satisfaction in the fact that any of your victims relatives will get no satisfaction, assuming you get caught in the first place.

I wonder if you can make a noose out of Number 8 fencing wire?

The Gay Divorce

The Original Gay Divorce

If political satire is your sort of thing - go here. This guy almost always cracks me up.
Here's a post from a few days back...

BUSH STATES OPPOSITION TO GAY DIVORCE
Constitutional Amendment Would Protect Institution of Traditional Divorce, President Says

Carving out his position on what could prove to be an effective wedge issue in the upcoming midterm elections, President George W. Bush said today that he would support a constitutional amendment banning gay divorce.

At a campaign rally in Idaho, the President said that gay divorce poses a threat to the institution of traditional divorce, adding, "Traditional divorce must always be defined as a divorce between a man and a woman."

The president added that if gay divorce were legal in the United States, it would only exacerbate the nation's illegal immigration problem, as gay married couples swarm over the borders from Mexico and Canada seeking so-called gay "quickie" divorces.

While the president's call for a ban on gay divorce seemed to gain traction among the Republican faithful, it drew a strong negative response from the nation's bickering gay couples, thousands of whom marched on Washington today to protest the proposed gay divorce ban.

One such bickering gay couple, David Logsdon and Jeremy Leshone, had their first big fight at an Il Divo concert in 2004 and said that gay married couples should have the same right to a messy divorce as everyone else.

"If President Bush doesn't hear our voices, I'm prepared to take this fight all the way to the Supreme Court," Mr. Logsdon said.

"You would," said Mr. Leshone. "You never know when to give up a fight."

"Oh, shut up," said Mr. Logsdon.

Zidane is my hero

To those who say "violence doesnt solve anything" I say bullshit - sometimes it does. When I was thirteen I was picked on by a kid the same age as me. After "turning the other cheek" this kid continued to bully on a greater scale.
Eventually after putting up with this for a couple of weeks, I turned around, grabbed the kid and pushed him up against the classroom wall. With as much strength i could muster, I lifted him off the floor, and threatened to smash his face in. The kid turned as white as a sheet and never - ever - hassled me again. Needless to say I didn't need to hit him. My only regret is I didnt stand up to him sooner.

I hate sledging in sports - I believe it's uncalled for. Ironically in Cricket it is quite common. I remember a story where an Australian bowler called the batsmen he was bowling to a number of insults during the his "over". At the end of the over he smirked and said.. Geeze youre a fat c$%t. Having had enough of this, the batter said "It's only because your wife gives me a cookie every time I shag her". Well - the bowler lost it - and ranted at the batsman that he had overstepped the "ethical" mark by mentioning his wife. Funny as that may seem to some, I dont believe this sort of behaviour should be tolerated by any sport.

I guess my point is that some things are worth fighting for. Zidane has endured many "slights" during his career, and the fact he responded to the taunt, points to the severity of what was said.

To his headbutt I say well done - the fact that Materazzi deny's saying anything that would upset Zidane points to his own character; a character that I find lacking.

I just wish the media would look at the antagonist with as much zeal as the respondant.

If someone called my mother a whore (the latest rumour doing the rounds) - I'd do more than headbutt his chest - and I promise you that.

Hehe - You have been warned

To:		all
Subject:		(Fwd) WARNING!
CC:
Date:		Mon, 10 Jul 2006 09:06:53 +1200
Status:		normal
From:		[deleted]
Reply-to:		[deleted]

------- Forwarded message follows -------
Date sent:          Sun, 09 Jul 2006 18:07:54 +1200

>
>
> Generally, I hate the warnings that get sent around, but I have to
> admit that this one is important. Please protect everyone you know by
> sending this to your entire email list.
>
>
> If a man comes to your front door and says he is conducting a survey
> and asks you to show him your bum, DO NOT show him your bum. This is a
scam.
> He only wants to see your bum.
>
>
>
> I wish I'd got this yesterday. I feel so stupid and cheap.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>

------- End of forwarded message -------

Angry

What is success? What makes a successful life?
An obvious answer to this age old question would perhaps be "To be happy"
But not to some.
If all around you is chaos and madness perhaps "being happy" is not within your immediate grasp. In cases like this perhaps other less "ideal based" answers would apply. In a life where failure is no longer an option (even failing an NCEA paper is deemed not attained), some of us cling more strongly to a "Darwinian concept" of success.
So, in short, to be successful in this life you must breed, and if possible marry beforehand.
Conversely - if your are single and childless, perhaps not all is lost - perhaps you're trying - but just haven't been successful yet.
This is the sort of crap some members of my family have to put up with - simply because two of us are not married, and all of us are childless.
Kids are great, and so is marriage, but they are not the be-all and end-all of our existence.
If I never marry and have children of my own I wont view my life as any less worthy.
And to hell with anyone who would disagree.

What movie?

NARRATOR:
And crawling on the planet's face
Some insects called the human race
Lost in time, and lost in space
And meaning.

Wow

Hide not your talents. They for use were made. What's a sundial in the shade?
- Benjamin Franklin

Regina Spektor sings "Samson"


Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Not My Generation

People try to put us down
Just because we get around
The things they say are awfully cold
I hope I die before I get old.

Pete Townshend, who wrote those immortal words for the Who in 1965, could now probably see the irony now he's 61, however I'm sure now he simply changes his definition of the word "old" with every passing year.

Today I visited my grandmother, who is 90 years old. Because I live in Auckland and my family lives at the other end of New Zealand in Dunedin, I don't often spend my time in the middle of the South Island. In fact I think it's been over four years since my last visit to Christchurch, and it has been at least that long since I've seen my grandmother.

I called her on the 'phone before I arrived, because i knew she probably wouldn't know me when she saw me. I didn't expect not to recognise her myself.
My grandmother is extremely stubborn and point blankly refuses to go into a group home. Unfortunately this life choice has removed the promise of any company in her remaining years - it amazes me the lengths people will go to to live in their own homes until "they carry me out in a pine box" (her words - not mine). If only her decision didn't impact on the lives of so many others in her family.

She was always a great talker, and in that capacity she still reins supreme. The problem is, her conversation is short but extremely repetitive. She kept saying I looked like one of Roger's sons - I pointed out that I was one of Roger's sons, and was very probably the very one I reminded her of. She called me Brent, who is another of her grandsons, then went on to tell me how well Brent was doing (which really must do Brent's head in when he visits). She asked me how my wife (yeah right) was, and that she had a real problem with my mother (who in fact is my Aunt). She is very house proud and tells me she still does her own housework (again - yeah right) - and that the home helpers don't do much except steal her knives and forks. We then skipped back to how much I looked like on of Rogers sons again and repeated the above conversation again - and again - and again.

Although what I've written may seem to be somewhat light in nature - I assure you that it wasn't a laughing manner. I looked, I listened, I engaged in polite conversation, and hugged her when I left, all the while thinking to myself: I hope I die before I get old.

24

06:00 Get up to catch 09:45 flight - you have to factor in Auckland traffic you know...
Arrive and check in to Qantas for flight to Christchurch.
Flight is delayed by fog
11:00 Flight cancelled
Rebooked on 15:40 flight. Deciding whether to battle traffic to go back to work and return to airport - decide to stay.
Walk to international terminal to use lunch voucher supplied by Qantas
14:30....Flight delayed until 18:00
16:00....Flight delayed until 18:30
19:00 on our way to Christchurch
20:00 arrive Christchurch
20:30 Check into hotel.
21:00 Start pretesting for a software upload
23:59 Finish testing - start upload
0230 Finish software upload. Start Post Testing
0330 Find problem - rollback software
0430 Start rollback testing
0530 All good - back to where we were at 6am the previous morning
0600 Bed!!!!