U2 and Me

My relationship with U2 began around 1980. Back in 1983 a day didn't go by without U2's album Boy hitting the turntables in our senior common room at The Taieri High School. Back in the day the main staples (music wise) were The Police, Spandau Ballet, Kissing the Pink - and obviously U2.
I will go on record in saying that I thought the studio version of I will Follow sucked but the unique style of music U2 offered was a breath of fresh air, when compared to the new romantic dross of Duran Duran, The Style Council, and Talk Talk. I say dross now - obviously - but at the time Duran Duran's video clip "MTV" style over substance existance was lapped up by all and sundry, and like the followers of fashion all 17 year olds are, I brought into it hook line and sinker.
When U2 released "War", I was a U2 junkie - seeing Bono as a plausible role model - I wanted to be up there waving that white flag yelling "No More" during Sunday Bloody Sunday: the little idealist I was. "Live Under a Blood Red Sky" was the full-stop and the end of that chapter of U2's story, and many of us were ill equipped to deal with the abrupt change of direction offered by "An Unforgettable Fire". It wasn't until their "Joshua Tree" album hit the streets, that I started listening to them again - and I became somewhat envious of the new fans following U2. They werent as jaded as me - and the nerve of them to think that Joshua Tree was U2's best album. Fools!
Over the years since, U2 and I have crossed paths now and again. We saw eye to eye on "Achung Baby" , were barely talking during "Zooropa". The trial separation during "Pop" was difficult. U2 were courting a new legion of fans: there was a party I wasnt invited to - and I wondered where it would all end.
I've been to see U2 on every tour to New Zealand since 1983. When Love Comes to Town, with BB King in Christchurch was brilliant, as was Zooropa - although for very different reasons. The BB King show was a road trip with my friends and remains a warm memory of that time. The Zooropa concert was a last minute thing for Roons and I - the technology on show was mind boggling - I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Last weekend U2 played at Mount Smart Stadium. I have to admit that I was aprehensive: did I really want to see tham again - after 13 years. Would we still get on?
Tim, Sandra, Jim and Bridge came up from down south to stay for the weekend. We headed off to the concert on foot, after it became obvious that the trains could not carry the crowds of people. The rain beat down on all of us shuffling toward the stadium, but people of all ages moved as one - it was a bizzare feeling of unity.
The concert was amazing. A TV reviewer actually complained that the crowd was singing too much - but he was a complete prat. I have to say that again - he was a complete and utter prat.
A prat who couldn't understand that concept of a group of people, bound together in a relationship - a love of music - and of a band that has touched so many people over so many years. When Bono and the crowd sang along to the words of New Years Day " Say that it's true, it's true - we can break through. Torn in two we can be one"... I knew I was lucky to be a part of it.

Cars

The fears that live inside of us, whatever they are, and however they manifest, prevent us from living our highest potential as individuals, and as contributors to the human race. If we consciously and vigilantly transmute these fears, through compassion for others and for ourselves, we will know what it is to live a peaceful existence on this planet.
- Gillian Anderson

All this in no way explains why watching the Pixar movie "Cars" moved me so much today.
Rent it, and perhaps you could enlighten me.

Disturbing

I was listening to Radio live the other day and cringed when I heard Martin Devlin mention the associated heath benefits of circumcision, partly because the issue of "lopping off" a part of a male babies anatomy seems to me, rather barbaric in this day and age. The article he was referring to can be found here.

According to the report in the November issue of Paediatrics, circumcision may reduce the risk of acquiring and spreading such infections by up to 50%, which suggests "substantial benefits" for routine neonatal circumcision.

Mothers then proceeded to ring in ad nausism stating that they had there kids "done" and they had no problem with it. My rebuttle may sound something like "Piss off lady - and leave you son's penis alone". "If he wants to multilate his body later on in life - then let it be his choice - not some over zealous mother on a penis chopping frenzy"

Some days I wonder how far we have come when we resort to hacking at our own bodies in some bizzare effort to improve on the original model. Have we moved on any further from the more horrific female circumcision? I fear not.

Sad but true

In so many ways - this is what makes New Zealanders what we are.

Resourceful
Tenacious
Passionate
and perhaps a little oblivious of the consequences.

Roslin on Sex

Mary McDonnell

Question: Do you think there is a bias against middle age sex (on TV)

Answer: I think that there is a misunderstanding about middle age sex - the problem is we don't ever see middle age people actually just freely enjoying their sexuality with each other, so there's an imbalance. Although, i do think that as we grow emotionally, we become more complicated people, and with more wisdom and more complexity attached, i think that kind of fun free loving devil may care sex and sexuality is a little harder to come by. So even though we would like to think at middle age that we can exercise the same freedoms, in fact we're almost more vulnerable. It doesn't mean the sex cant be better, which I'm here to tell ya, it can be - but i don't think is so much a bias, as it is a little bit of the truth .

Say it isnt so!

Women in chains.

While there are many great artists recording today, we should take time to remember not all artist from the 80's suck.
I was never a real fan of "Tears for Fears" but I love the epic scope of this song, even if the subject matter isnt the nicest. The bridge at the end that starts "Its under my skin, but out of my hands..." is sublime. Youtube really doesnt have the quality to do the sound justice, but if you have the album you'll know what I mean. Turn it up. And yep thats Phil Collins on the drums....

Almost Famous

See, friendship is the booze they feed you. They want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong.
They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not cool.
And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.
... great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love... and let's face it, you got a big head start.

The only true currency in this bankrupt world if what we share with someone else when we're uncool.

Cameron Crowe - Almost Famous

I hate running too - but I do it.

I admire Lance Armstrong - really I do.
I'm not going to buy into the controversy over the did he/didn't he do the drugs thing. I'm not even going to dip my toe into the whole Sheryl Crow thing: The truth is he is an amazing athlete.
But even though he has won the Tour de France many times, and has battled cancer to live to tell the tale, the thing I admire most about him, is his strength of conviction.
This week Lance entered, and completed the New York marathon - his first - in less than 3 hours. You might think that for an athlete of his caliber this would be a walk in the park - but reading this interview after, paints an entirely different picture.

...his body seemed to tighten and showed signs of pain and fatigue in the final few miles. He started to fall off the pace required to break 3 hours before a final push allowed him to meet his personal goal.

"Before the race that was my goal, I wanted to break 3 hours. But if you told me with 3 miles to go, `You're going to do 3:05,' I wouldn't have cared," he said. "Honestly, at the end I was so tired, I couldn't care. Now I'm glad I did."

... and So will he be back?

"Now's not the time to ask that question. The answer now is no, I'll never be back. But I reserve the right to change my mind," he said. "I don't know how these guys do it."

American elections

I'm sorry guy's - I'm voting for Billy

Di's trip to the Dentist

Master Poe: At times the task you face, may seem overwhelming. And you may feel unequal to what is required.

Young Kane: Master, I observe others, and they seem to know the way.

Master Poe: Do you?

Young Kane: I am puzzled and unsure. I move one way, and then another. To no purpose.

Master Poe: And therefore, grieve.

Young Kane: Yes, master.

Master Poe: The sage has said "Others are contented, I alone am drifting. Not knowing where I am. I am different. I am nourished by the great mother. In an uncertain hour, the wise man acknowledges uncertainty.

Good luck Di

Saving us from Ourselves

Ban cars because of boy racers
Ban alcohol - because of alcoholics
Ban pokie machines - because of problem gambling
Ban motorcycles - because of motorcycle gangs
Ban chewing gum because it's everywhere on the pavement
Ban cigarettes because of the butts
Ban fireworks - because of the fires
Ban the military - because of the wars
Ban lies - because we know the truth
Ban cell phones - because I've heard they're dangerous
Ban free speech - because we don't need it any more

But remember.
It's not your fault.
Maybe you were given the strap at high school. You were taught wrong.
If you failed at school then it's It's societies fault. Because - you see - you should never fail - you just didn't achieve. Try again. And again. And again. You'll get it sooner or later.
And if you don't - you've got a right to be angry.
Know your rights - the cops cant touch you if you're smart. Keep quiet - don't talk - sweet - it's the law.
Just keep blaming someone else
Cuz its not your fault man!

C'mon - lets terrorize some people with our fireworks, because I've heard they're going to ban them next year....

Rites of Passage

My first memory of a birthday party, was Martin Bridger's in Hororata 'round about 1973. I was 7 years old and I remember all this because I didnt want to go.
Ever since that I've made a reputation for acheiving a few quick exits from many a birthday party. Or any party for that matter. A friend the other day threatened to tie herself to me in an effort to stop me escaping when no one was looking next time we were drinking together. Time will tell if i grow out of this phase - I guess when I've made my mind up to leave I can't be stopped.
The first rite of passage for many New Zealanders is the 21st birthday, an unfortunate event where one almost always ends up throwing up in front of their freinds after skulling a yardie. It's a horrible experience - or so I'm told: I left my 21st early and managed to miss out.
From twenty firsts come engagements, then marriages, then the 30th's and 40th's.
Whilst the horrors of batchelor parties abate, I will never be able to forget them all, even with serious therapy. Even today the words "half mast" can send many of my friends into post traumatic stress disorder.
Divorce has never really been something I've had to deal with. Ok, it happens, and I'm very lucky to have seen the best in my friends during this trying time. I'd imagine it's a hard thing to go through - perhaps even more horrible than the yardie - but to go through it publically for the whole world to see, must be horrible.
So spare a nice thought for Reece this week, and if you see a "womans magazine" with a down and dirty expo article on their marriage split, do yourself (and them) a favour, and leave the mag on the shelf.

Lovely - they say.

How many worlds was that?

According to the WWF - that would be the World Wildlife Fund (not the Wrestling one) , we Humans are living beyone the planets means. Well D'oh!
Kibbles had previously mentioned this some time ago, and was quoting five planet Earth's would be required if the rest of the world decided to follow the western worlds requirements for resources. I am happy now to see that he was wrong, and that we would only require 2 Planet Earth's. I feel so much better.

From the article;

Humans are stripping nature at an unprecedented rate and will need two planets' worth of natural resources every year by 2050 on current trends, the WWF conservation group said on Tuesday.

Populations of many species, from fish to mammals, had fallen by about a third from 1970 to 2003 largely because of human threats such as pollution, clearing of forests and overfishing, the group also said in a two-yearly report.

"For more than 20 years we have exceeded the earth's ability to support a consumptive lifestyle that is unsustainable and we cannot afford to continue down this path," WWF Director-General James Leape said, launching the WWF's 2006 Living Planet Report.

"If everyone around the world lived as those in America, we would need five planets to support us," Leape, an American, said in Beijing.

Ok - so it turns out Kibbles was right after all.

The Americans are doing something about it 'tho. Their latest Hummer H3 does an impressive 20miles to the gallon (on highway driving).


Check out the ad...(click to view in more detail)

Stealing my soul

Hugs are underated

Just the other day I Skype'd Di and along with other gems of conversation, we ended up talking about people who steal your soul. "Steal" is perhaps a harsh word, especially in this sense, where people you know or love take a piece of your soul - perhaps in a way - without knowing. In my mind, parts of someone's soul are given freely, more than taken. It's not a conscious effort on either persons part, it's like I'd imagine, when you see your child for the first time, or when you greet a dear friend after a long time apart. I'd like to believe that at that moment the dynamics shifts, and we become something more than aquatintences, or even more than friends. I'd like to think that.
The trouble is, that society in its infinite wisdom, has its little rules that must be obeyed - and we often find it hard to say the things we need to say to each other, sometimes until it is too late. Knowing this to be a universal truth does not make it simpler to buck tradition, but I'd like to think the soul swapping happens anyway.
I have to believe it - actually. :)

The Australian Language

In case you thought it was just Kiwi's who were hard to understand. Here's Australian Bee Lee with "Cigarettes will Kill You". I love everything about this track - musically it's so tight - brilliant. Just wish I understood the lyrics 100% - or even 70%.



Lyrics

You throw me in a pan
You cook me in a can
You stretch me with your hands

You love to watch me bake
You serve me up with cake
And thats your big mistake

Your guest comes in dressed smart
You offer a la carte
You didnt have the heart

And I want a tv embrace
And i, Im getting off your boiling plate
They swore youd steal my steam to feed your dream
And then be gone
I wish I could say that everyone was wrong

You left me burned and seared
You left me ripped and teared
And older than my years

I should have know at first
That you would leave me hurt
You had to try dessert

No way to let off steam
Dont bother milk or cream
No way to let off steam

And I want a tv embrace
And i, Im getting off this boiling plate
They swore youd steal my steam to feed your dream
And then be gone
I wish I could say that everyone was wrong

It must feel good to stand above me
While I make you so proud of me
It must feel good that Im now gone
I wish I could say that everyone was wrong
I wish everyone was wrong
I wish everyone was wrong
I wish everyone was wrong
I wish everyone was wrong
I wish everyone was wrong

I care

Regardless of your political leanings, to retrospectively change a law to make an unlawful act lawful, is dangerous in the extreme.

If you are a New Zealand citizen please go here and apply your natural right to protest, or not ; depending on your point of view.

Balance Luke...Balance

It's the NZ Music Awards tonight, and because the Elemeno P vid was a bit too warm and fuzzy - we need some balance in the Force.

This is Shihad - with "Home Again". Personally my favourite song of theirs is "Pacifier" but the YouTube Version doesnt do it justice.

Hope this doesnt make you homesick Di.

Elemeno P

The quintessential Kiwi band.
1) A lead singer with non classical vocal training.
2) A catchy name - in this case think L M N O P
3) A BBQ around a pool listening to a song with a hook so big you could hang a towel on it.
4) A piss take somewhere in the chorus

Spring is here - and summer's just around the corner! :)

Party on Wayne - Party on Garth ! Excellent!



english translation for those who dont speak Kiwi:

Song: Everyday's a Saturday

I got a pocket full of your kisses
And i know that I'm never coming back
I've been warned but I long for your embrace
I keep calling save me,save me
Cup of coffee and a packet of cigarettes
Up late cause lectures don't start yet
Bowl of Weetbix and a plate of bacon and eggs
Sunday morning gonna do it all again

Chorus:
Every day's a Saturday
Every night's a night like this
Every time that we draw close
Every time a perfect miss

Called up my friends and I'm thinking of a barbeque
Mid afternoon and there's nothing better to do
Feeling good and they sky seems extra blue
I can almost see Utopia

Vroom with a View

The following article was printed in the New Zealand Herald as rebuttle to the previous article calling for Top Gear to be Junked. Ben Fenton from the Telegraph Group obviously disagrees.

Two words are guaranteed more than any others to provoke me. The first is "provocative", when used in a way that ignores the dictionary definition of the verb "to provoke": to annoy or infuriate someone, especially deliberately; to incite or goad.
The second is "healthensafety", which began its wretched existence as three words, but has become one. Between them, they encapsulate some of the most tiresome aspects of British life.
Hugely popular and boorish television programmes such as Big Brother and I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here! are justified by their producers as "provocative".
In a genuine world, it would be enough to justify Big Brother because it supplies the second aspect of Juvenal's recipe for controlling the mob - bread and circuses. But that idea might be too provocative.
"Healthensafety" was invented in the 1960s by civil servants to create jobs for their own children. Its primary function is to stop everyone who wants to do more with their lives than eat bread and watch circuses, from having any fun.
The BBC often has to defend its motoring programme Top Gear from criticism of its presenters' sexist or xenophobic comments, or their glorification of environmentally unfriendly driving.
It usually claims that the programme is meant to be "provocative".
Perhaps it means it in the dictionary sense, but I doubt it. Knowing the BBC, it probably means that Top Gear is naughty, but attracts huge audiences.
Five hundred complaints in six months about a programme that reaches five million people a week is simple maths for 21st-century broadcasters.
Last week, Richard Hammond, one of the trio of politically incorrect Top Gear presenters, lay in a neurological ward in Leeds after flipping a drag-racing car while driving at close to the British land speed record of 300.3 miles an hour (482.3 km/h).
His comrades, James May and Jeremy Clarkson, spent time at his bedside, but they and the huge staff that produces the programme must have been conscious that "healthensafety" is now as great a threat to the future of Top Gear as the laws of physics were to Hammond's life.
A BBC spokesman talked of a "healthensafety investigation" during the day and to many fans of the programme, it sounded like a herald announcing the arrival of the Spanish Inquisition.
By the weekend, more than 1000 people had sent Hammond their good wishes on the BBC's website. It was a testament to the popularity of the man, but also of the programme.
In our risk-averse and emasculated society, watching people fool around at high speed in cars answers a basic human need, even if only vicariously.
Children, mine included, love Top Gear and that is not surprising, because their lives are particularly restricted by the undiscriminating edicts of the riskaverse.
And, of course, Top Gear is a very childish programme. The humour is childish - using a medieval catapult to throw a particularly awful Nissan through the air, or dropping a caravan from a height is slapstick, but it delights my 11-year-old and me equally.
The jokes meander towards puerile xenophobia -- Clarkson said the BMW produced Mini Cooper would be more quintessentially German if its satellite navigation system was set to invade Poland.
The ritual humiliation of the weak is cruelly childish. Caravanners, cyclists, environmentalists and the dull are Top Gear's favourite targets.
Inventing ways of destroying caravans occupies much of the producers' time, and ridiculing safe drivers or "green" roadusers provides an easy laugh.
Yet its psychological geometry leads to a single point - driving is easily transformed into a mundane activity, but it is also one of the few affordable ways human beings can defy our natural limitations. Or, in other words, have fun.
Fun should be safe, but only if you are supervising somebody else or doing something that affects other people's security and property. Otherwise, fun should just be fun.
Personal risk should be a matter solely between a person and his or her insurance company.
That is the essence of Top Gear. Humans have climbed all the mountains and travelled up all the rivers that the planet has.
We haven't explored all the oceans, but there is a limit to the interest you can take in translucent fish. Few of us can visit Everest or the Amazon basin, still fewer can pilot a bathysphere, but we can watch someone else do it.
Few of us can afford a Bugatti Veyron, but we might be able to imagine what it's like to sit behind the wheel of one, and we want to see it driven fast, because that is what it was built for.
Hammond, Clarkson and May are paid to have fun on our behalf and make us laugh while they do so. They do a very good job of it. Of course, they aren't always justified in doing what they do.
Their antics with an antique Jaguar C-type were condemned by my colleagues, and could have led to a duel at dawn if "healthensafety" had permitted two sets of motoring journalists to fling spark plugs at each other from 20 paces.
Overall, Top Gear simply celebrates transport as risk-taking rather than travel.
Last year, the lobby group Transport 2000 berated Clarkson and the others for favouring performance over efficiency and conservation. They proposed replacing Top Gear with something more moderate and green.
The BBC must resist any calls to put Hammond and his friends in any other gear than top, or apply any brakes to their adventures, because, if it can tolerate them being "provocative", or even provocative, then it can certainly let them continue in the fast lane, waving two fingers out of the window in the direction of "healthensafety".

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.