Innisfail took a big one on the chin last night. I was living there in '86 for Winifred, which was a "paltry" cat3, but still caused a right mess. Larry last-night was a cat5, which I guess authorises the comparisons to Tracy, though Tracy was much smaller and more powerful, and was hitting a town not adequately prepared, I would hesitate to suggest. Building regulations have come a long way since, and with good cause.
Here's what I'm thinking though: the preparedness & response to this will be underappreciated. This is as big a cyclone as has been seen in Australia for a long time, and yet the injury/death toll is, to date, unbelievably small. It will probably go up with the flooding and other aftermath, but to get this far with that sort of result is, under the circumstances, bloody amazing. The economic costs will run to hundreds of millions, no doubt, but that sounds a pretty good deal to me.
Tuesday, 21 March 2006
Saturday, 18 March 2006
schwag patrick's day
2 Gallettes, 1 crepe, 4 pints of Beamish stout, and about 200 people in O'Connells. Scored a free scarf, and a silly green/white/orange plush top hat, which stayed in the bar. Good craic, and I now know the chants associated with the Fields of Athenry. Hey baby, let the free birds fly!
Friday, 17 March 2006
runs, rides, curries and calls
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
runs, rides, curries and calls
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
update
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Wednesday, 15 March 2006
whiteboard
This is what a good afternoon at work looks like for me. Productive, huh? Now that its here in blue, green, red and white, I can't for the life of me remember why I always have trouble explaining what I do to lay-people. It's so simple!
On the plus side, there are probably only a few people who might read this who would understand what the hell this means, so I'm probably less exposed to people stealing my ideas, despite my paranoia.
On the plus side, there are probably only a few people who might read this who would understand what the hell this means, so I'm probably less exposed to people stealing my ideas, despite my paranoia.
Friday, 10 March 2006
You know you've made it in pop when...
... you're on the morning show with Kerri-Ann Kennerley, playing with a singer introduced by no less a music doyenne than K-A.K herself as "Australia's next pop princess, with a debut album produced by the hitmakers behind Britney Spears and Celine Dion."
Check it out, y'all. That's Paulo Hendersoni there. I knew him when he was just starting up, 'n all that.
Check it out, y'all. That's Paulo Hendersoni there. I knew him when he was just starting up, 'n all that.
Wednesday, 8 March 2006
less than ideal
When life gives me lemons, I find they make excellent munitions for attacking passing strangers.
That has nothing to do with anything, really. Oh, I guess at a stretch I got some lemons yesterday. I'd basically only ridden a few hundred meters on my way home from work when I realised I had a puncture. Of course, it was "raining" (really somewhere between mist and drizzle on the Australian scale), so I was forced to walk home in the wet. On the plus side, it made it easier to chat with Franck, who graciously accompanied me for a while. After that, I had my iPod and a few episodes of Drunk & Retired to catch up on, so it wasn't so bad.
Getting home, I thought to myself, "fuck it man, let's go bowling". Actually, the plan had already been fixed by others, but I couldn't get the Lebowski quotes out of my head, so I really was thinking that. (Also, "nobody fucks with the Jesus", but I couldn't work that into the narrative here.) Anyway, I went bowling, with Emeric, Jeremy, Jerome and Franck. We bowled pretty much like crap, no-one getting over 114 on the day, but it was fun. I started out OK, with 110, and went downhill from there to an abysmal 77 in the third frame. Still, something that bears repeating.
That has nothing to do with anything, really. Oh, I guess at a stretch I got some lemons yesterday. I'd basically only ridden a few hundred meters on my way home from work when I realised I had a puncture. Of course, it was "raining" (really somewhere between mist and drizzle on the Australian scale), so I was forced to walk home in the wet. On the plus side, it made it easier to chat with Franck, who graciously accompanied me for a while. After that, I had my iPod and a few episodes of Drunk & Retired to catch up on, so it wasn't so bad.
Getting home, I thought to myself, "fuck it man, let's go bowling". Actually, the plan had already been fixed by others, but I couldn't get the Lebowski quotes out of my head, so I really was thinking that. (Also, "nobody fucks with the Jesus", but I couldn't work that into the narrative here.) Anyway, I went bowling, with Emeric, Jeremy, Jerome and Franck. We bowled pretty much like crap, no-one getting over 114 on the day, but it was fun. I started out OK, with 110, and went downhill from there to an abysmal 77 in the third frame. Still, something that bears repeating.
Monday, 6 March 2006
Yeats quote
I was in an office with Keith for about 5 years, I guess, and I think the whole time he had this poster on his wall with what looked like a photo of an AT-AT taken with a gameboy camera, accompanied by a quote:
7 years later I finally got around to looking it up, and it turns out it comes from a Yeats poem. Good quote, good poem.
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
7 years later I finally got around to looking it up, and it turns out it comes from a Yeats poem. Good quote, good poem.
Thursday, 2 March 2006
The Saddest Music In The World
I went with Zoé and a couple of her friends to TNB to see "The Saddest Music In The World" last night.
Sometimes I have the feeling in a cinema that I'm missing gross quantities of allegory or subtext in the film, and last night was the most I've felt that since probably Mulholland Drive. David Lynch is a little different, I guess, in that its often the story that's hidden in his films, whereis in this case I had the feeling that the story was something of a MacGuffin for the "real significance" of the film. Unfortunately, reading reviews it seems I am alone in this view.
In any case, its a film that lives in the bizarre. Realism is not to be seen here. The central characters are all weird, none moreso than Isabella Rosselini's wigged double-amputee beer baroness. I can only I am the first person to ever make the comparison, but the story structure resembles that of the Van Damme vehicle, The Quest, in that it advances as an interspersal of sad-music-offs and the developments of the relationships between the 5 principal characters. The cinematography is mostly black-and-white, and recalls any number of things, from Lynch's Eraserhead to Depression-era newsreels, to classic B/W cinema footage. Its a little tough on the eyes, but I guess it serves to establish a certain vibe.
The whole mix is certainly challenging - not for Van Damme fans, despite any structural similarities :) - and to a degree the madcap assembly probably leads the viewer to read more of his own projections into the film than a he might in a more traditional production. To that end, its certainly not a boring film, if you're willing to looking past the strangeness and listen to what it evokes.
Sometimes I have the feeling in a cinema that I'm missing gross quantities of allegory or subtext in the film, and last night was the most I've felt that since probably Mulholland Drive. David Lynch is a little different, I guess, in that its often the story that's hidden in his films, whereis in this case I had the feeling that the story was something of a MacGuffin for the "real significance" of the film. Unfortunately, reading reviews it seems I am alone in this view.
In any case, its a film that lives in the bizarre. Realism is not to be seen here. The central characters are all weird, none moreso than Isabella Rosselini's wigged double-amputee beer baroness. I can only I am the first person to ever make the comparison, but the story structure resembles that of the Van Damme vehicle, The Quest, in that it advances as an interspersal of sad-music-offs and the developments of the relationships between the 5 principal characters. The cinematography is mostly black-and-white, and recalls any number of things, from Lynch's Eraserhead to Depression-era newsreels, to classic B/W cinema footage. Its a little tough on the eyes, but I guess it serves to establish a certain vibe.
The whole mix is certainly challenging - not for Van Damme fans, despite any structural similarities :) - and to a degree the madcap assembly probably leads the viewer to read more of his own projections into the film than a he might in a more traditional production. To that end, its certainly not a boring film, if you're willing to looking past the strangeness and listen to what it evokes.
babes, baskets, and bars
No Chris, not that sort of babes.
On Monday Franck, Valentine and I went out to Acigné to see Jacques, Sophie and Juliette. Juliette, true to the stereotype of her age, spent the time alternately eating and sleeping, with very brief bouts of crying interspersed. The rest of us chatted about charming phenomena such as jet-propelled excrement, and had coffee and cake. In spite of this, the contagious nature of the whole thing was well in evidence, as subtle and spoken "you must be next" references flew across the table between the grinning ladies. Coming on the heels of the poo-jet discussion, this didn't make much sense to me, but hey, what would a single guy know?
After the festivities, Franck & Valentine dropped me off for basketball. I was looking forward to it, having missed a week, and we had a good turnout outside the building. Unfortunately, we all remained outside the building, as the guy who normally opens the door decided not to show, leaving us quite literally in the cold.
To drown our sorrows, Liz, Franck (other Franck) and I went to a bar nearby, which turned to be The Smokiest Bar In History. I noticed a bit inside, but when I got home it was insufferable. I guess that's a measure of how desensitized I have become to smoky bars since I've been in France, but its disgusting nonetheless.
On Monday Franck, Valentine and I went out to Acigné to see Jacques, Sophie and Juliette. Juliette, true to the stereotype of her age, spent the time alternately eating and sleeping, with very brief bouts of crying interspersed. The rest of us chatted about charming phenomena such as jet-propelled excrement, and had coffee and cake. In spite of this, the contagious nature of the whole thing was well in evidence, as subtle and spoken "you must be next" references flew across the table between the grinning ladies. Coming on the heels of the poo-jet discussion, this didn't make much sense to me, but hey, what would a single guy know?
After the festivities, Franck & Valentine dropped me off for basketball. I was looking forward to it, having missed a week, and we had a good turnout outside the building. Unfortunately, we all remained outside the building, as the guy who normally opens the door decided not to show, leaving us quite literally in the cold.
To drown our sorrows, Liz, Franck (other Franck) and I went to a bar nearby, which turned to be The Smokiest Bar In History. I noticed a bit inside, but when I got home it was insufferable. I guess that's a measure of how desensitized I have become to smoky bars since I've been in France, but its disgusting nonetheless.
Tuesday, 28 February 2006
ci-no-more
At new year's a went on a little spree and saw 3 films within a 10-day period, and all was good with the world. Since then I've seen only 1 in 6 weeks or so, which basically a continuation of the abominable stretch evident from last year.
Further to my woes, my once-regular cine-buddies are now proudly and justifiably preoccupied with recently baked progeny, leaving me even less likely to rediscover my once prodigious and now much-missed predilection for the moving image. Charitable applicants for this now vacated position may apply below or to the undersigned :)
Further to my woes, my once-regular cine-buddies are now proudly and justifiably preoccupied with recently baked progeny, leaving me even less likely to rediscover my once prodigious and now much-missed predilection for the moving image. Charitable applicants for this now vacated position may apply below or to the undersigned :)
Monday, 27 February 2006
a little balance
This weekend was a little more balanced. I still had some gaming, this time on the network with Jesse, which was nice, but his hours saw that wrap up in the early afternoon. Saturday evening I cooked - a big lasagne that should feed me for a week or so, and another batch of ANZACs, the latter motivated by the previous lot having been simultaneously a little flat for my visual tastes and very well received by those who wound up eating them. I'd left them at Nono's party Wednesday night, then got a text Friday that they were being consumed by Liz's basketball cadre, which was fine by me.
On Sunday morning I watched a little football - real football! - from one of the preseason games, being played of all places in Darwin, in February. Madness. In the afternoon, I wandered down to Avenir to hang out with Liz, Erwan & others, watching a cadettes game. We went for a couple of drinks at the Webb afterwards, which was a nice way to round out the afternoon. To boot, after that I went home and made a lamb korma, tasty indeed.
It occurs to me, off the top of my head, that a lot of what I write on this site, particularly concerning weekends, is pretty mundane. Robert Pirsig, who wrote a lot of crap in his books, particularly in Lila, did say one thing (among others, to be fair) that has stuck with me:
There's something to that. The most boring conversations one can have are about "what's new". Now Pirsig goes on to raise the alternative question "what's best?", but that I prefer "what's true?". By not eliminating subjectively inferior topics, we keep the conversational base wide and, as a bonus, it rhymes! Who's superficial, now?!
Anyway, I'll see if I can devote at least one post per week to "what's true" rather than "what's new".
On Sunday morning I watched a little football - real football! - from one of the preseason games, being played of all places in Darwin, in February. Madness. In the afternoon, I wandered down to Avenir to hang out with Liz, Erwan & others, watching a cadettes game. We went for a couple of drinks at the Webb afterwards, which was a nice way to round out the afternoon. To boot, after that I went home and made a lamb korma, tasty indeed.
It occurs to me, off the top of my head, that a lot of what I write on this site, particularly concerning weekends, is pretty mundane. Robert Pirsig, who wrote a lot of crap in his books, particularly in Lila, did say one thing (among others, to be fair) that has stuck with me:
"What's new?" is an interesting and broadening eternal question, but one which, if pursued exclusively, results only in an endless parade of trivia and fashion, the silt of tomorrow.
There's something to that. The most boring conversations one can have are about "what's new". Now Pirsig goes on to raise the alternative question "what's best?", but that I prefer "what's true?". By not eliminating subjectively inferior topics, we keep the conversational base wide and, as a bonus, it rhymes! Who's superficial, now?!
Anyway, I'll see if I can devote at least one post per week to "what's true" rather than "what's new".
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