Stuff and Nonsense

Reconsidering Blogging

2010-05-30T16:54:00.002+10:00

Hello. Long time no see. It's been a while :-)

It's been a long, long time since I wrote a decent post for this blog. It's not that I haven't been inspired, but so many other things - I believe it's called life - have gotten in the way. And indeed, most of the time, the inspiration hasn't taken me. I've gone back into the workforce after the Canberra adventure and lurched along from one Research Assistantship to another, dabbled in sociology, travelled a bit. I've also been fixated by Facebook, but have hardly glanced upon Twitter. And indeed, it is these two media that have prompted me to take a second look at blogging. Facebook is a whole other topic, but I don't understand the point of Twitter. Why would you only allow 140 characters? Only the most erudite and eloquent will be able to generate anything of any worth in 140 characters, the rest is guff, Facebook status updates writ small and more self-obsessed still.

I came back to this blog after so long and sniffed around the websites I used to visit daily, sometimes several times a day. So many people have fallen off blogging: perhaps it's time has truly gone, or made way for the instantaneous-ness of Facebook and Twitter? But there are some that are still active and that I still visit: political blogs, craft blogs and sports blogs.

Anyway. Perhaps we could start a conversation again - or I can just use this as my out-loud journal again ;-) We'll see.

Brushing away the cobwebs...

2010-05-02T21:58:00.001+10:00

...dusting off the shelves, putting pen to paper....

New Wave

2009-11-22T11:22:00.001+11:00

I had a new name for this blog, but I forget.

Signalling a Return to Blogging

2008-06-15T00:59:00.002+10:00

...Soon. No, really. There's so much going, so much to celebrate and mourn for the past year - a new Prime Minister, the end of the Howard Era, turning 30 (the horror!), the US Presidential Election. Thoughts on growing old. Reexaming a narrative - and writing a new one. Join me.

Happy Birthday, Bro

2007-06-05T11:08:00.000+10:00

Happy Birthday Little Bro.

And welcome to the newest addition to the family: Jenkins, after his Dad, Possum Jenkins.

Ah, the cuteness.

In Memoriam: Douglas Noel Adams, 1952-2001

2007-05-25T17:27:00.000+10:00

Stuff and Nonsense observes International Towel Day, 2007.

There's still a DNA-shaped hole in the Multiverse.

Yet Another Year, But Slightly Wiser

2007-05-22T00:48:00.000+10:00

What? Is it that time of year already?

Cometh the hour....

2007-04-29T01:16:00.000+10:00

..Cometh the rain

We are here with a gigantic 'screen,' thanks to a huge projector, a perfectly arranged living room, appropriate junk food and rugs, all geared up and ready for the great World Up Final.

And it's raining. In Barbados.

We've had a few teasing live feeds, watched highlights from the great 1992 final - a seminal year for me, at least, in terms of cricket - listened to an hours self-aggrandising commentary on the Aussie team (really, you would think they were the only team playing) and am now watching the highlights of the AUS vs NZ final. We here at Stuff and Nonsense, namely, Me, Myself and I, are fond of McGrath in spite of his nastiness on field - his consistently perfect line and length and subtle variations thereof have won our heart(s). A tribute to talent above looks, as it were - a privilege we do not accord Pointing - Ponting - on any day of the week. Still, we would rather McGrath didn't score today if it were at Lanka's expense.

Oh, the torture. I would rather have the game over with than this!!!

Gripe Water

2007-04-12T09:55:00.000+10:00

There are times when I do not like being micromanaged. I am not a three-year old.

Really. I don't like it.

You BEWDY!

2007-03-29T09:23:00.000+10:00

So close...

iLanka almost snatches an outrageous victory from the jaws of defeat...

Yet so far....

South Africa did better over all, but Malinga!! Holy CRAP!

We ROCK!!!

(Photos from Cricinfo)

Augie March at The Corner Hotel

2007-03-26T19:16:00.000+10:00

There's nothing like Augie March to warm your soul on a chill autumn night. To photograph them in concert was a holy wannabe-rocktographer grail of mine, and at last the opportunity arose.
The set before the journey.

I've been lucky that in all the gigs I've attended so far, I've been able to see Glenn Richards during most of the gig, no small feat for a small girl who is rarely up the front.

The Glenn
Consequently , in spite of pushing my way into a tiny corner int he front, I had the worst angle for photography, as I cou;dn't focus on anyon except Ed. Not that there is anything wrong with Ed, bless him, but it can get monotonous with the one subject and same photo result each time.
The Glenn in full flight.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaning. It was too distracting to take photos, and if anything Augie are marvellous live. I shutdown the camera, wove my way back to my friends and enjoyed the performance with its precious quota of sublime moments.

The Evil Green Light, quoth Adam.
Ed.
The Set List.

At the end of it, thanks to the kindness of strangers, this lucky flygirl got a set list.

Review to follow. For the usual thoughtful, well written review, here's vernoona.

World Cup 2007

2007-03-12T14:09:00.000+11:00

It begins!

Dispatch From the Scientific Frontier, Melbourne Horizon #108 [draft]

2007-03-01T15:37:00.000+11:00

Greetings, O denizens of the Web!

Since my last yet-to-be-published draft blog post, I have quit my sphere as a lady of leisure, stopped sleeping until 11am, obtained full-time employment and am currently working as a Research in a Biomedical research institute. I've been working for two weeks now, for two labs with completely different fields of research. One is Biomaterials, the other is Metabolism. I'm technically part-time in both and full time at uni. If you're wondering how I'm going to manage it, I'd welcome any suggestions, because I don't know either. The only commonalities are that the offices of my supervisors are next to each other, as are the labbenches. I have found that a computer is mandatory, I'm thinking of getting a Blackberry, something I never imagined having to do, and I'm trying to work a day where I am not solely at the computer looking up product specs, writring five Word(TM) files at once or communicating with sups (who are in the offices next door) via email. The work is really interesting though I haven't been on the bench much yet. The Biomaterials work is fascinating, though it shows some of the differences between the different disciplines and their perspectives. The Engineer wants to know about the technical aspects of the generation of the material: the process. The biologist wants to know how the biomaterial can be of use and how it affects living cells.

The institute is housed in a brand-spanking new building. As many new research places are these days, it's all plate glass and steel panels and sails in strange formations. We reckon the central lieft area sails are meant to represent a Golgi stack. There is a cafe with a cute proprieter. The is light and airy but there's nary a window to be opened. It's a world away from the dowdy old university building that many of the labs came from. I'm mildly amused that this much plate glass can immedisately puts a gloss on the work here, it makes you assume that the research in here must be like, really, really cool.

It's alab that's basically in my old neighbourhood, around the corner from where I went to uni, where I worked before and after uni. It's strange to be here, as many of the people I met when I first started out in research have also moved to this shiny new building. This means that I have known some of them for 12 years. Thinking in decades is terrifying. Will I slip back into my old routines, my favorite haunts? I already feel some of the mental processes that affected me in my most recent adventure creeping up on me, though it's easier now to stop them. I am torn between being glad to be back at work in a challenging role and the feeling that perhaps I really haven't moved on that much, just back to the place where I began. To the comfort zone.

Perhaps it's too soon to tell, too early to worry about. I remind myself, though, that many scientists have done the same, gone back to where they began. If anything, I can think of it as wiping the slate clean, making a fresh start, begin all over again.

[] post subject to editing.

Template, Blogging and Internerd Difficulties

2007-01-16T13:12:00.000+11:00

Hear ye, hear ye, O Faithful readers. Having a few problems with adjusting Blogger templates, editing posts and the Internet in general. Net connection, in spite of being Broadband, occaisionally drops out. Template of blog acting up when I try to change the template. Thing appears to be stuffed. Working on problems and old posts.

New Blogger is not all it is cracked up to be. We here at Stuff and Nonsense are doing our darndest to fix things to bring you more neuroses and sad jokes for your edification and entertainment.

And If anyone knows how to put a picture into your header, Please Tell Me!!!!

That is all.

City Hopping

2007-01-10T23:20:00.000+11:00

Back from Melbourne-Canberra-Sydney trip and sweltering in heat. Reports to follow!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2006-12-31T18:52:00.000+11:00

A very Happy New Year to you and yours...may it be filled with joy and adventure (well, nice ones).

Returning Soon!

2006-12-23T09:52:00.000+11:00

Folks...I have been on holiday for some four weeks now...I have been distracted, lazy and just enjoyong the luxury of doing nothing for a while..perhaps a little too long. I am not abandoning this blog and updates are in the wings! May I take this opportunity to wish you all a splendid Christmas and the best for the New Year!

bound and gagged

2006-12-02T11:56:00.000+11:00

And it's away!!!

on the knife's edge

2006-11-20T00:17:00.000+11:00

This marks what was by far the strangest time in my life, the most bittersweet parting thus far. A fine, keen pain, like the knife so sharp you didn't feel it enter you, cut you. Meanwhile, you watch with detached disinterest as you bleed.

What next, now?

...almost...there...almost.........there.....

2006-11-18T21:29:00.000+11:00

*pant, pant* gahhhh!!!! so close...so close! [cue visions of flygirl slowly and painfully clasping bits of rock on her way to the summit, while bits of rock crumble and break off under her feet]

...So it's taking much longer than I expected, and I fell asleep last night to my absolute horror, getting 10 hours where for the past three or so days I had...er...five...and didn't get an early start to work this morning. So I ran late, and now have to rearange all my flights - that is, buy a new one - because Virgin Blue are ...not helpful...

...plenty of cake leftover from farewell afternoon tea yesterday which when all is said and done, made me quite teary, because for all the horrors of this Canberra experience, there is still everything to gain...

..and my supervisor(s) are...well, they are really quite wonderful...

....and I'm missing a very important function tomorrow which makes me very, very unhappy...

But hey, the wages of sin, eh?

PS: Congratulations to scientician on finding a dark eyed virgin. would that we all find one of our own, scientician, would that we all find one of our own ;-p *

* I hereby fulfil the obligatory terrible pun requirement

Tell 'er she's dreaming...

2006-09-25T16:52:00.000+10:00

This blog is suspended....except for this post!...

What are my top five dream jobs?

This is a really interesting topic for me, as I'm currently at a bit of a crossroads. For the longest time, science has been my be all and end all. At the same time, there has been a strong streak of a desire to perform some sort of social service - at 12 I had fantasies about founding an organisation dedicated to environmentalism, medical care and world peace. At 16, I decided that I wanted to be a doctor (one of two deviations from the research path decided upon when I was 7) and work for MSF. Oh, go ahead, laugh at my youthful naivete! We all want to change the world when we are that age. Later I discovered that the UN apprently fulfilled these functions, and I knew that I was too much in love with genetic engineering and protein structure to want to pursue medicine. Also, I am stupid. Now at 28, I find myself less interested in the minutiae of amino acid sequences and signal transduction (and stupid), trying to find another course to take in life. After all, what applicable skills can a biochemistry graduate transfer? Here, let me, ah...ah...checkout the segmentation on that? So here are some of the possible strands I would follow if I had the brains and resourcefulness....

In an Ideal WorldI would be a doctor-humanitaritan-academic. Okay, you can stop laughing now. I like medicine, it intrigues me, I am fixated on the notion that it is one of the best forms of service to my fellow human beings. I have a very strong belief that it is a human right to have access to complete health care. I see it as a function of humanitarian work. And yes, I would work for MSF and the like! I'd love to work in community development programs. Top down and grassroots up are what we need to elicit change, and the grassroots level is vital: change has to come from within wach individual or else it won't last. I love teaching, and I love teaching science. Science is as much about appreciating a kind of aesthetic as it about solving problems and doing so creatively. I say academic because I'd really prefer to teach people who care about the subject, but in that role I would look at teaching sessions from kinder to high school. Get kids to love learning early on, if I can. I'd love to develop programs that bring the skills, resources and knowledge of universities to the mainstream and the people who need it most, forge community relations.

Conveniently, this would also fulfil my dire wanderlust :-) I love travel, and I would explore every remote and populated corner of the earth if I could. Six months on, six months in some far flung plain or mountain village!

In another ideal world, I would be a writer! Doesn't everyone want that kind of immortality?

In the third alternate universe, I would work for Getaway or be a travel writer!

Reality Land
Retrain, I suppose, and do humanitarian work! At this stage what area is the big question. And can I do it? Plus, I don't compeltely want to leave science, I think it is something I will always go back to.

I think I could also happily work in a bookshop like Readings, help organise literary functions, generally mess about with books.

And I can always travel, whether in the arm chair or boat, plane and train.

This Blog is Suspended

2006-09-15T23:09:00.000+10:00

..temporarily....

Sorry for the lack of posting here of late. I've been snowed under with work as I race towards the lab work finish line and thesis work. It will all be over in October, which as far as I am concerned is Far Too Soon. Though I've hard nary a time to write more than two proper emails a week, I've looked at many a post draft and unfinished meme waiting publication with despair, saw TV for the first time in two weeks last night and actually ate dinner, a real, non-museli dinner at home for the first time all week last night. And I even got to send out some emails this week, which means that there is some joy in doing an in situ on Drosophila embryos - frequent wash breaks. Speaking of which, mine did not work, so there's a week's worth of work down the drain. My control, twist, on the other hand, is exquisite. Really. It is beautiful.

So humblest and sincerest apologies for the silence via email, web, and other media, and I hope to catch up with you all soon come mid-October, and let us pray that I will see some of my last Floriade before it shuts down for another year. Take of yournselves, and do drop me the odd line, I really miss hearing from non-lab people! Needless to say, when I need a breather I will still be roaming my favourite blogs!

Lotsa Love,

flygirl.

Where's my idli?! [drafty prelim notes]

2006-08-11T11:18:00.000+10:00

[or, Can I go back India now?]

Before me is my lunch, a plastic container of pre-packaged museli. I missed breakfast. I'm craving the slightly soured, crisp edging of appa/hoppers (Tamil,appam) that my father used to make on Sunday mornings. "Do you want an egg hopper," he asks inevitably, though he knows I no longer eat eggs on their own like that. Dad is currently onthe other side of the world. We're a little concerned that he's stuck at Heathrow with the chaos that's hit it suddenly. Though I suspect he will be happy to be in London for a while longer. When I was little I would plaster the hopper with jam, eating the crispy outside layer first and then the thick spongy middle. When I grew up, I ate it with pol sambol, a coconut chutney drier than its South Indian cousin, or lunu miris, a freshly pounded lemon-onion-chilli chutney. The key to all these dishes was the correct amount of fermentation of the batter and the freshness of the chutneys pounded in a mortar and pestle, eaten immediately.

But more than those rice flour pancakes, I'm craving the thin, crackle-edged dosas of South India with their rust-brown undersides, pillow-soft steamed idli cakes with the inevitable, scrumptious coconut chutney made from freshly grated coconut, some times churned with a sesame paste and mustard seeds. Or the slightly slurpy upma, ultimate in comfort food. When made by the South Indian canteen, it has the texture of runny polenta, hiding fried curry leaves, mustard seeds, a hint of tumeric in the faint yellow colouring. It's utterly delicious. On Sundays the canteen serves hot puri aloo, rows and rows of women roll out the puris before out eyes. The aloo is terrific, if slightly, but not unbearably, salty, offsetting the fried puri perfectly. There's a little gravy to mop up with crips-soft puri pieces. Afterwards, small espresso sized serves of the best masala chai in the ashram - the only masala chai left in the ashram. You eat with your hands, there is no cutlery in this canteen.

Ah, so much to try, and every day a little something extra to nibble. But at the very least the idli and chutney for breakfast every morning and God's in His heaven, and all's right with the world.

Upwardly Mobile: John Butler

2006-08-08T18:08:00.000+10:00

Until I get some notes on India up, or writer a longer piece about Weasel Words and coorporate-speak gone mad, please enjoy this excerpt from last night's Enough Rope interview with John Butler of the John Butler Trio.

ANDREW DENTON: You have, however, put your body and your wallet where your heart is. You've given plenty of money to the Wilderness Society, to Greenpeace, to others. We've got some footage of you here at a protest in the Styx Valley in Tasmania. John performing at a very high altitude.

(FOOTAGE PLAYS)

ANDREW DENTON: I bet your grandfather never expected his guitar to get up to the top of one of those.

JOHN BUTLER: No, that was a good day.

ANDREW DENTON: What's it like to be in the middle of that incredible old forest?

JOHN BUTLER: It's beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It makes you wonder why anybody would want to cut it, burn it, woodchip it.

ANDREW DENTON: Well I can explain that, you see...

JOHN BUTLER: Oh, money?

ANDREW DENTON: No, no. You see, this is giving trees an opportunity to travel.

JOHN BUTLER: Thank you.

ANDREW DENTON: That's alright.

JOHN BUTLER: I've been wondering all this time.

ANDREW DENTON: Yes. You're not thinking, John.

JOHN BUTLER: I'm not.

ANDREW DENTON: No.

JOHN BUTLER: Man. I've just had a revelation, folks. I've got to go.

ANDREW DENTON: Yes. You know, they could end up as a toothpick in a boardroom of a big company. Most trees don't get to do that.

JOHN BUTLER: I mean that's exciting stuff.

ANDREW DENTON: Yes, that is.

JOHN BUTLER: See the world, travel.

ANDREW DENTON: That's right.

JOHN BUTLER: Yes.

ANDREW DENTON: Upwardly mobile.

JOHN BUTLER: Be all you can be as a tree.[Full Transcript]

Ah, yes.

PS: Thanks for the yummy roulade and covnersation, phdstudent.

Returned!

2006-08-04T12:24:00.000+10:00

Greetings, Blogosphere! I have returned from India and am back in Canberra. Spent a few days recovering in Melbourne. I feel as if I've just come from another planet, from heaven, from paradise. I am struggling - reluctant - to return to normal life. I've had little desire to go near the web, let alone read email and am only just getting back into it. I am well, just - happy, and adjusting :-). Here are wishes that you are all well, and more communication soon.

Bombay Attacked

2006-07-12T21:01:00.000+10:00

Bombay has been rocked by a series of seven explosions on the Western Railway Line at rush hour.

I got nothing. I have nothing I can really say. I've never been to this city, though I have read and seen plenty about it. I read the blogs of residents and a few friends who are going over there soon. Yet I've wanted to blog about this but really, there's nothing to say. It is simply appalling, saddening. My heart goes out to the victims and their families and all Bombayites. To all those on the coal face. To the strength of these amazing people.

[begin temp rant]I have to say that MSM here in Oz has been pretty crap at covering the disaster. To be sure I've depended on The Age and SMH websites for updates along with other sources. Even the ABC has been pretty ordinary, and allocated a small slot on the 7.30 Report. Perhaps Lateline will be better. I don't know why I expect more.[end temp rant]

The Indian Blogosphere has linked to and is one of the bet sources of information. And it has reacted splendidly. Mumbaihelp is a starting point for assistance, especially if you're trying to get through. They're doing an exceptional job of linking people with their families. They can't be praised enough. Ultrabrown.com is on the ground along with India Uncut which also links to other resources and springboards to more resources. Sepia Mutiny also provides updates and forums. Dilip d'Souza is also on the ground and has written some moving posts about the situation. Again and again we hear amazing stories about the response of people to these situations. It's still confounds me that these two extremes of humanity can be expressed in a short space of time.

God Bless.

London, London

2006-07-07T00:54:00.000+10:00

One year.

London is

The other eternal city Entering the House of Commons to the sound of a choir echoing to the rafters Hyde Park on a summer's day Your first ride in a double decker past the LSE and Trfalgar Square while in the back seat German kids sing:

"...I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now

...There are many things that I would
Like to say to you
I don't know how

Because maybe
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?
And after all
You're my wonderwall..."

INDIAAAAAHHH!

2006-07-06T14:49:00.000+10:00

flygirl is going to India!

Update: Well, yesterday I ~~commandeered a taxi~~ trudged along to the beautiful wedding-cake mansion that is the Indian High Commission - picked up my passport with its Indian visa at the stipulated time - "Prior approval from Colombo HC already obtained" - my ticket is on its way, and in a week I will be in that Eternal, Antique Land! I touch down in Bangalore and stay for two weeks.

YAYY!

Do you know Emo?

2006-07-02T13:39:00.000+10:00

Had to share this with you. Go ye forth:

HopeisEmo>

It's..gold.

Congratulations!

2006-06-30T14:54:00.000+10:00

Dr Kong!

The Wonderful World of Hypoglycaemia

2006-06-30T13:18:00.000+10:00

Or, The Dumbest Morning Ever

spend 16 hours in lab [five cups of tea, 1 bowl museli, 1 pkt Nachos-flavoured corn chips]. Find self arguing over Truth and Beauty in Science at 3am with someone who's disillusioned with it all, so what's the point?
make it home at 4am via University Security ~~lift~~ escort. Accused of having English accent. Deny any kinship with country.
Asked if I'm sure I'm not English.
Not sure whether to go to bed or just stay up. Realise have been staring into space for five minutes.
Ravenous. Eat apple while trying to make up mind, end up taking half an hour.
Watch tail end of vintage Mr. Bean episode
Catch two hours of sleep, wake up at 7.30pm and work, cup of tea with two sugars.
Leave for lab at 11am. Space out on way to work
Make it to lab in one piece, send at least five one-line emails. Feel dizzy.
invited to lunch but decline and agree at the same time. Can't remember logic from either.
Space out again. Suddenly it feels like Saturday but everyone is in the lab.
Starving. Confused by lunch invite for 12.30pm and have assumed it's 12.00pm. Realise it is only 11.30am
Realise am waiting for phone call due at 1pm. Nearly fall asleep on computer
Remember that phone call was actually meant to be at 12pm and it's now 12.30pm
*confused* *not impressed*
Head off to get lunch, narrowly avoid walking into pole
Get sandwich from The Cafe Formerly Known as Calypso But Now Called degree.
Walk back to lab, have dizzy spell twice on way. It is now 1.15pm.
Fall asleep in office.

Bring it..On?

2006-06-27T15:00:00.000+10:00

Well, while we're all in semi-mourning-jubilation-at-tournament-success, here' a tidbit found at the Aussie World Cup blog that ought to put a smile on yer face:

Yes. UEFA Champions League. We shall take on the proud nations of Arsenal, Bayern-Munich,Manchester United and Real Madrid - don't they this guy called Raul? Is he their President? Here we come - or rather, here we go, here we go etc. And Norway will enter the A-League and actually win something.

Truly, the North London Derby will pale by comparison.

Also, History revealed.

Our Revels are Now Ended

2006-06-27T11:55:00.000+10:00

And melted into air, into thin air...

GO AUSSIE!! Mark III: Fever Pitch, Good Luck Lads

2006-06-26T21:20:00.000+10:00

Prior to watching FA/UEFA/Premier League finals, my brother and I would settle ourselves down some two hours before to watch that most perfect sports movie, Fever Ptich. We would watch school teacher Paul Ashworth in his annual ordeal of the FA Cup season, his happiness or sadness entirely dependent on the success or failure of his beloved Arsenal. His life revolves around the Club, and he has little or no interest in anything else. Good and bad years are counted by relegation or failure to win teh Cup proper. Until, one day, a new teacher strolls into the school and his life...well, takes on a new aspect, if not focus. It's a movie for the sports obsessive, and the climactic moment is the one every fanatic has been through. It's the perfect start to any Final.

Like Paul Ashworth, though, I've reached the point where the progression to Round 2 is not enough. Two weeks ago to have made it that far would have made me delirious. While I'm still thrilled and exhilarated by this unexpected joy, I'm now spoilt by having a home team the World Cup. If we could just make it to the Quarters...if only. It's just that the boys have played with so much heart, so much courage, I think they deserve it.

Ah, what am I saying.

Good luck boys. We are so proud of you. Go out there and earn what you deserve!

The Antithesis of Football (draft)

2006-06-26T12:34:00.000+10:00

Elizabeth David, writing for Spectator in the 1950s and 60s, gave us glimpses into the post-war food culture of the English and compared it unfavourably with the sophistication, simplicity and emphasis on excellent produce that characterised French regional cooking. Travelling in the English country side at the time, she stops at a hostel and samples something labelled "onion soup" which seems to contain everything butonion, stock, or anything else that would rightly go into a soup - a watery mess with a bit of white flour stirred into water, some milk and a few flakes of pepper. It was then triumphantly brought to the table by the hostess and

"produced with a kind of bleak triumph which amounted almost to a hatred of humanity and humanity's needs."[Elizabeth David, And Omelette and a Glass of Wine

Fast forward fifty years, and England's food culture has improved out of sight since those times - from stodgy messes and bad ingredients came a food scene rivalled only by New York in its creativity and variety and supermarkets that stock everything from alfalfa to saffron.

The complete opposite has happened to English football. Witness England's performance in the 2006 tournament. Failing to play with anything resembling conviction, desire and pride, the English have muffled their way through the Group stage to qualify for the quarter finals. Last night they won on an admittedly splendid free kick from the beleagured David Beckham. Otherwise, their performance was something totally at odds with the spirit, creativity, and flexibilty of the team game that is football. Their team spirit is non-existent, they play as individuals and with no creativity. They wander about the field with the occaisional long-ball when they feel they ought to have posession, hoping that one of three major stars will eventually find it within themselves to score.

To paraphrase Elizabeth David, their victory over Ecuador last night was

"..produced with a kind of bleak triumph which amounted to a hatred of football and football and England's needs..."

If you can't pull together and use the skills you're blessed with, don't bother. Go home. Please, jsut go home. Go Portugal.

O, Frabjous Day!

2006-06-23T15:36:00.000+10:00

CALOOH! CALLAY! My Happiness

AUSTRALIA THROUGH TO SECOND ROUND OF WORLD CUP!!!

Somehow, deep down, we all want things to end like fairy tales. Of course, poetic justice and fairy-tale endings don't happen that often in real life. You can't help searching for them. But every now and then, something happens, it's a slice of history, it's a verse of pure poetry, epic, splendid and moving.

This was the Australia vs Croatia match. The Socceroos put in a brilliant match and dedicated, determined performance with equally determined challengers, Croatia. Two sides evenly matched. After a nail-biting match, in which one's heart was in one's mouth - and every other anxious cliche one can think of - Australia's courage and spirit enabled them to draw with Croatia, putting them through to the second round. We meet Italy on Tuesday morning, followed by those brilliant Ghanian Black Stars taking on Brazil.

Thank You:

Craig Moore:

Harry Kewell - wonderboy follows through at last!And of course, the inimitable, unbelievable, wily and ever-surprising

GUUS HIDDINK

For:

With Love, from ALL of Us:

Oh...And one more thing:

Bruce Arena:

Say wha'? Say it again, punk?

Y'all have a nice trip home now!

GO AUSSIE!! Mark II: Good Luck, lads!

2006-06-22T16:42:00.000+10:00

As if I could forget:

[I really shouldn't watch it no I won't watch it no I've got to watch it what if I don't wake up in time what if I wake up in time and we bomb out what if we get red carded wouldn't it be terrible if we lost because we've come so far and are playing so well and it's been so long and we I mean the boys deserve to go on hey you never know what the boys might pull out but then you never know what Croatia might pull out so we might lose after all but I forget that we only need to draw but what if we can't manage that I mean look at what happened with Brazil we played so well but missed our chances but no it won't happen this time but what if it does and we lose WHAT IF WE LOSE?]

To the Aussie Team: Do us proud, boys!

And more fun tonight:

Stuff and Nonsense is barracking for: GHA, BRA, ~~CZE~~ ~~ITA~~ CZE

Soccer Infiltrates the Addled Brain

2006-06-22T13:58:00.000+10:00

We've now reached the half way point of the tournament. Football has taken over parts of one's life, with irregular sleeping patterns and exhaustion de rigeur. Yesterday I woke up certain in the knowledge that England defeated Paraguay 8-3. I have not been so certain of anything for a long time. Certain and considerably disoriented. I fell asleep, woke up again and remembered that this was indeed true and that it has been a walkover for England. Finally, I woke up for the third and last time at about 8.30am slightly doubtful and tried to work out exactly which matches had taken place. I found that not only did England beat Paraguay but also defeated Sweden 3-0.

One glorious night for England. One caffeine deprived flygirl.

There must have been something occult about that night, perhaps the phase of the moon, the alignment of the planets. Mahesh also mentions this seepage of soccer into his sleep, having woken up after dreaming that the Spaniards defeated Tunisia 21-11 on another morning. He had the luck of seeing the goals, though. I can't tell you whether Owen managed to score (I've also discovered that that's what the female fuss over him was about, and it only took me eight years), or whether Rooney scored a beauty. All I know is that there was a vague image of a guy in blue and yellow near a hazy net and scoreline. David "Robbo" Robson also had a prescient dream about England:

Wednesday 21 June:
Wake up and realise that fate is being kind. Misfortune means we'll have to play 4-1-4-1 with Gerrard and Lamps bombing on from the midfield. We will now win the World Cup. It will be a miracle of Biblical proportions. Go back to sleep.

English voodoo, perhaps. They've failed to defeat Sweden yet again, a feat last achieved in 1968. Perhaps they need their very own John Safran, the Witchdoctor certainly worked for us. In any case all this griping seems to also be provoking contrarianism from Fate, apparently they did well against Sweden, and the terms fast-paced and exciting were used in the same sentence with English football.

Robson also has some more hilarious updates on his World Cup diary. I see the English are finally catching on about Eriksson, but then again there's only so much you can do with what you've got. Still, Hiddink can work miracles, it's said.

Of course I can still give England-Supporting-Brother grief. I applaud the sincereity and consistency of his support though - he's a fan of the English league and has other sentimental ties to the country. And, as he pointed out, black players can pretty much play there without being racially abused by the crowd (well, in recent times anyway). But he will insist on believing that not only has England got the best midfield of all the sides and that all the side agree on this, but that his Gut Tells Him that they will win the Cup. Or at least go far. Which is pretty funny even for this relative soccer ignoramus.

But he's not alone. Sidin of Domain Maximus wrote this beautiful piece on an imagined English victory. Splendid piece, but the key word here is imagined.

Ah, yes. England Wins the 2006 FIFA World Cup.

Dream on, sunshine. Dream on *evil grin*

PS: I appear to have reached 200 posts on this blog. This doesn't include all the drafts sitting there, some for at least a year. Hmm. Editing for posterity may occur at some time. Anyway, 200 testaments to mediocrity. Here's to a better 200 to come.

World Refugee Day

2006-06-21T11:57:00.000+10:00

Bit late on the uptake for this, but please read this article on Sudanese refugees in Australia.
********************

Speaking of Sudanese Refugees, Enough Rope, talk show par excellance, interviewed one of Sudan's Lost Boys, Clement Deng on their Show and Tell segment a while back. Please head over and hear his amazing story (transcript, video, mps available).

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Latest statistics on the International Refugee Crisis:

Latest statistics indicate that of the 20.8 million people of concern:

8.4 million are refugees who have fled their countries due to civil wars and ethnic, tribal and religious violence and who cannot return home
6.6 million are internally displaced persons - people forced to flee their homes, but who have not crossed a border
2.4 million are stateless people
1.6 million are returnees
773,000 are asylum seekers
960,000 are others of concern

UN site for World Refugee Day

UNHCR

Football Extravaganza and Open "Forum"

2006-06-20T19:17:00.000+10:00

Joga Bonito!

Thanks for all the great comments and discussion on the Cup so far! What a splendid carnival it's been, it can only get better! I'm enjoying all the commentary both here and on individual blogs and sharing the excitement (ah, the excitement!). And so, in the interests of the World Cup Blogging Fraternity (all two of you), I present the World Cup Blogging Extravaganza!

So Folks, it's crunch time and there are a series of intriguing-looking matches over the following days:

Also on Wednesday night/Thursday morning:

Admittedly I could care less about PAR:TRI and IRN:ANG. So:

(1) I'd like to hear your comments and predictions on the upcoming matches. I'm keen to see the NED:ARG particularly, it's going to be some match. Will the Argentinians maintain their momentum or fizzle out? Will England pull a rabbit out its hat and actually try to play football ~~like pros~~?

(2) What do people think of the tournament so far?

(3) What are your current tips for the championship. How have your ideas changed over the course of the tournament?

(4) How are you watching the World Cup? Do you sleep in front of the TV all night or do you watch matches selectively? Are you the lone Cup Fanatic in your household?

(5) Announcing a competition for the Best Insult/Gripe in the following Categories: Team, Individual Player, Goalie, Commentator
In the spirit of the great England-France-Ronaldo gripefest below (see comments on previous post), I want to hear the best insult or gripe you can come up with. I might even have prizes for the best :-). All in good fun, nothing racist or bigoted allowed (not that either of the two of you reading are). Heck, we really do love them, that's why we gripe about the pathetic performances ;-).

Top England Gripe so far: "Nothing to Display"

(6) Finally, if anyone has seen the new History-is-on-Croatia's side ads, I'd love to hear about it. If you've taped it or managed to get it on CD, you have my eternal and lasting friendship. Also, I will buy you chocolate.

Or post about these on your blog and I'll link to it in an updated version of this post!I know many of you are doing this already (go mahesh!), but this is also a general shoutout (sartorial and vernoona, I'm looking at you twose). Any other ideas folks?

And GO AUSSIE! Bring it on, Croatia!

Joga Bonito!

GO AUSSIE!!! [floaty post]

2006-06-18T14:26:00.000+10:00

So much football to catch up on and ~~pretty pictures to decorate~~ blog about. I've seen England demonstrate that they are [expletives deleted] in need of a new coach*, I've seen Ecuador produce a stunning series of goals, only to be eclipsed by the Argentinians as they throw down the gauntlet to Brazil in the most spectacular fashion, the goal of the WC so far (Cambiasso, you rock my world!), I've seen the Netherlands break the hearts of Cote d'Ivoire (alas!) only to have the fabulous Ghananian Black Stars fly the flag for Africa. Italy drew - what? Italy drew with the States in what sounds like a nasty match with red cards flying. And tonight is the night of nights for Australia. Every night I've heard it said, the phrase "the best goal of the WC so far" and last night's stunning victory for Ghana highlights that every single game is a universe unto itself : anything can and will happen on the day. And so, until I have time to write more, this Stuff and Nonsense floaty post would like to say:

BRING IT ON, BRAZIL!

And hello, Tubby:

No sht, sherlock!*

Brazil, we know you are the kings of soccer. We love to watch you. And no matter what, we will be proud of you, Socceroos.

Here's to heart-in-mouth disease and the sleepless night ahead!

* We have Guus Hiddink. Isn't it time you got yourselves a nice Dutch coach, England? Because you suck. You SUCK BIG TIME! You make Tunisia look like world champions. Cote d'Ivoire is more fun to watch. Heck, my local primary school can play better than you lot (though maybe not float a ball like Beckham, but what's the point if he's all you've got?)

It's time to go, Sven. Because you SUCK. England SUCKS.

** I just know this is going to end in tears like ENG vs BRA in '02.

Stuff History!

2006-06-16T16:49:00.000+10:00

Far be it from me to promote an evil coorporation, but Nike's Stuff History ads have been keeping me in stitches since they began just prior to the World Cup. History is evidently a very very old, very cadaverous German or Eastern European man with a personality that's a cross between Boris from the Rugrats and George Costanza's father. Like every good cantankerous old crack pot, History spends his time shrieking abuse, primarily at the perceived presumption of football born-agains, the Socceroos, newly re-entering the world football fraternity after a 34 year absence. This re-entry was coupled with yet another attempt to bring soccer in to the mainstream Australian consciousness. All the ads can be found on-line here and you can also respond to his rantings in like fashion.

It's definitely been a more successful attempt this time round, helped in no small part by the dedication of Johnny Warren who sadly passed away 18 months ago, the smart decision to bring in Guus Hiddink of the '02 Korean juggernaut and the subsequent success of the 'Roos last November. The 'Roos seem to be enjoying unprecedented support and soccer seems to finally have broken from its neglected Cinderella status to - well, almost belle of the ball. I've always been a bit dubious about Australia's WC aspirations: for a long time I felt we didn't deserve to qualify: we had precious little respect for the game nationally, our few international players were more concerned with their club careers and in any case we were too absorbed in our ~~mind-numbingly boring~~ domestic codes to give football any credence. But what annoyed me most of all was the sense of entitlement we nonethless held: that by virture of being Australian, the most developed region of Oceania and The Greatest Sporting Nation On Earth, we deserved to qualify by default for the WC regardless of our performance and capability. Thankfully, this attitude is slowly is changing, but watch one episode of the loathsome Footy Show and you would be forgiven for thinking that we still regarded it as a second rate game for "sheilas, wogs and poofters." Last night I stayed up in spite of my better self to watch the ENG:TRI match only to give up on the lakadaisical Poms after an hour to succumb to sleep. On waking, reflexively switching on the TV for the news report found that commecial networks here certainly deign to report on the WC - but only after every last tumble and foul from AFL, NRL and combined tribunals and anlaysis were over - and then to cap it in under two minutes. C'est la vie. The more things change the more they stay the same. Thank God for SBS, who's three decades of dedication to the game keeps us in touch with the rest of the world and the infinite nuances of the Beautiful Game.

I just spent some time on another post which sadly disappeard into the ether..dear me how frustrating. Lots of good games on tonight, can't wait. I mean - I'll be working....and...keeping a weather eye open.

Poetry in Motion: Spain Slaughters Ukraine 4:0

2006-06-15T14:59:00.000+10:00

POST UNDER RECONSTRUCTION!

Leipzig, 14 June 2006

Five minutes into the game, I had a fleeting vision of 3-0 or 4-0, told myself that I was still hallucinogenic from the USA:CZECH match and tried to imagine a different scenario. I imagined up a shock win by Ukraine and settled down to watch the Spanish answer their critics with considerable interest.

So Ukraine made their World Cup debut after much hoopla.

Gotta love the fans:

With primary possession of the ball, the Spaniards danced around the hapless Ukranians:

Xabi Alonso scored a beauty in the first half:

Followed by a "deflected" free kick from David Villa:

Villa scored again in the second half with a dodgy penalty decision (and dodgier red card) before being replaced by Raul:

I suppose Raul needed some exercise. Fernando Torres delivered the final blow in the 81st minute (I think I'm in love):

And there was joy all round (well, in the Spanish camp anyway):

Spain answered the rumbling predictions of continued underachievement, finally making use of the reams of talent in the squad: so much talent that they had to wait in line to have a play. Ukraine were simply outclassed: they had no idea what to do and the Spanish simply ran rings around them and played beautiful football. Here's to hoping they can maintain their form and earn the glory they deserve.

For Real

2006-06-14T19:09:00.000+10:00

Did The Age really called Abbott a "nimby" (which he is and more) or is "NIMBY" some acronym pertaining to nuclear power of which I am ignorant? Was this headline a prank? I didn't see it again any time later. A bit like the story of the "Security Breach" at Parliament House a few days ago which also myteriously disappeared from the on-line edition - the security breach being due to a baking powder attack.

Football, football, football! (updated)

2006-06-14T18:22:00.000+10:00

Can't get enough of the game? Not enough fans in your lab/office/next to the water cooler? Too many newbie Socceroo bandwagon-jumpers like the new teeny-boppers at an Augie March concert? Or is your day lacking exhaustive analysis of the previous night's matches and constantly changing predictions as to the ultimate Cup winners? (like mine)

Head over to Mahesh's Abstruser Musings for some footy analysis, he's in the know and has some comfortingly exhaustive wrap-ups. And see what you think of his analysis of the real contenders for the Cup. I'd like to see some predictions from the Posse out there as well!

There's also Nanda Kishore at The Blockhole, who seems capable of combining the two great sports of football and cricket, and is a local Melbournite to boot. Over at the Wordpress Corral are the folks at Silly Point, of similar make and form but more football anlaysis. ESPN Soccernet also has some good analysis and I'm enjoying Derek "Robbo" Robson at That Funny Old Game (hmm..always thought it was cricket).

For excellent stats, photos and nitty-gritty, SBS's The World Game site and of course FIFA World Cup central has all the goods - I compulsively link to the latter every half hour at least.

Oh, and folks, if you can help it, don't watch the soccer on your own. Take it from me, IT AIN'T FUN. Also I'm keen to hear how people are coping with the times differences and how many matches they are making in a night and if they manage to get any work done at the same time.

A moment in the Sun

2006-06-14T12:23:00.000+10:00

READ IT AND WEEP!

Especially as it probably won't last!

JOY - and RELIEF!

2006-06-13T13:22:00.000+10:00

Australia vs Japan, Kaiserslautern 13 June 2006

From Perth to Brisbane, Adelaide to Darwin; they filled Federation Square and Cicular Quay to watch Australia's first World Cup match in 34 years.

The dance begins:

Japan draws first blood in a controversial goal: Not Happy, Reff

But after 84 agonising minutes in which one had almost ceased to pray, King Cahill equalizes, then strikes again:

Mighty Mighty Aloisi wraps it up

JOY

And for this little flygirl, much relief

Glory, glory hallelujah!

Photo Credits: FIFA World Cup Gallery

Good Weekend

2006-06-12T18:18:00.000+10:00

Good things about the weekend:

1) Having a long meeting with your supervisor and being inspired scientifically by it. Nothing beats a good brain churning. Must remember that when watching five straight hours of TV when I should be writing.

2) EL gets a review gig! Good on ya EL!

3) Finding that you have friends who will spend an afternoon shopping "for something that screams 'flygirl!" and then take you dinner to celebrate your birthday three weeks late

4) Making it late to the last session of X-Men III on a Saturday night in Canberra and being allowed in for free though it's only been ten minutes into the movie - and it doesn't matter because you've already seen it and will gladly see it again

5) THE WORLD CUP BEGAN ON FRIDAY!!!! This forces you seriously consider having inverted days and wishing that it was being held in Asia again (happiness for all guaranteed), to reflect that this really is a wonderful world carnival and that lucky underpants every where are in for a tough month.

More on Cover Art: Pulp Fiction

2006-06-07T11:27:00.000+10:00

While we're on the topic of cover art, via Prufrock's Page and his own amusing post is this article from Slate on pulp cover art for classic texts like The Iliad and Jane Eyre. Slate also links to a number of galleries of pulp fiction cover from the '40s and '50s onwards.
Some of the covers are down right bizarre while in others like Saucepans and the Single Girl, the prototype for all modern chick lit covers may be seen.

Dishonourable Mentions:
Pulp Sci-Fi covers at The George Kelly Paperback and Pulp Fiction Collection

Selection at Pulpcards.com:

all images from Pulpcards.com

*I'm diploid myself

Covered!

2006-06-02T21:27:00.000+10:00

Like everyone else, I've had a lot of trouble trying to pick out my favourite book and album covers. The choice of one's favourite covers is influenced by the kind of impressions the book evokes as well as the basic aesthetic appeal. Like taichifox, I'm not really a very visual person either, having a rather basic appreciation of form and colour. It also doesn't help that 95% of my collection is in Melbourne. But it's certainly a very pleasant dilemma to have. So here is an assortment of five bookcoversthat appeal to me....and yes, ask me another day and it would be different.

1) The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien

You knew it was Coming!

From the moment I picked up The Fellowship of the Ring at 18, I've been hooked on LOTR. It began a decade long obsession with all things Tolkien as well as an obsession, shared with my brother, for collecting different editions of with different covers. This is my first copy of the entire trilogy, now 9 years old and rather battered. Everything about it speaks of a book that's a familiar friend. It's quite literally falling apart at the seams, covered by Contact paper (from when I thought this was a good thing), and has what I now see as appealing creases in the spine and front cover like laughter lines. The illustration is by John Howe, who with Alan Lee went on to become a concept artist for the film trilogy. This is still my favourite cover for LOTR of the three editions that I have *blushes* It's a moody, definitive image of Gandalf with That Hat, the cloak and grey robes, staff, sword and long white beard.
He's striding through a gloomy vista that looks like a storm - the coming "Storm of Mordor," or perhaps refers to the name he's branded with by his enemies: Gandalf Stormcrow. It's also quite detailed: a greenish light, you can just see the raindrops and each blade of grass is picked out. I really like having Gandalf on the cover: in essence he is the most important character in the book, being "the mover of all things accomplished," wise if irascible counsellor and indefatigable campaigner. The spine has the mandatory "JRRT" emblem and a detail of Gandalf. The cover style is also one of the last in the "old school" set with the gold-and-rune edging and the JRRT symbol on the spine and picture of the jolly-looking professor smoking his beloved pipe-weed.

2) The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde (and the entire Thursday Next Series)

I am eternally indebted to taichifox for encouraging me to read this series! The older paperbacks I have are the UK editions and are pretty simple: an almost blindingly white font set against bold colours and simple detail of a dodo, mammoth or unicorn. The covers give little away about the brilliant alternate universe, adventure and hilarious story portrayed within. The newer covers have a larger font and slightly more trashy bestseller type cover that I like as well, but I have an affectionate bias towards the editions I read.

3) The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien

Seriously, this isn't going to be entirely about Tolkien! The hardback edition of The Hobbit is a favourite, it was drawn by Tokien himself and is shown here in its full glory. The shapes are quite basic, essentially two-tones but it has an air of mystery about it too. It's dynamic, the path (normally on the spine) gives the impression of having scaled the leagues of Middle Earth, through dark wood and high mountain to the Lonely Mountain in an instant. While the tone of the text, from 1937, can on occaision be a bit grating, some sections like the Conversation with Smaug, are exquisitely written and the adventure itself deftly evoked. It's also illustrated throughout with Tolkien's own watercolours that also deal with the journey from inside-the-square Hobbiton comfort to wilderness and deadly adeventure.

4)The Tiger Ladies, Sudha Koul

(image stolen from the web)

I've written about this book before, but it had to go on the list. Koul's book is a memoir of her childhood in Kashmir, a country that is now inaccessible to her but with which she is spiritually inseparable, "fed at the gut by a cord that stretches over the ocean." It's a beautiful, finely wrought memoir of a lifestyle, lost paradise and exile. The cover has an image of the Goddesss Durga denoted in rich warm colours, at once powerful and compassionate. Rather than being a gratuitous use of Indian "exotica, " it encapsulates the central themes of the book: the women in her family and the nature of their relationships, their roles as purveyors and preservers of culture and knowledge and changing lifestyles, . It's also nods to the preeminent status accorded to the Goddess in all Her forms by the Kashmiri Pandits. I'd go for a different font for the title though.

5) The Odyssey, Homer

A hardback edition of the famous poem, it's a translation by Robert Fitzgerald that's somewhere between Chapman's more flowery translation and Lattimore's minimalist style. It's from the Everyman classics set, which publishes classics in this format and reminds me a lot of the old Loeb Classics series (see here for example) and still older cloth-bound books with heavy paper. I love the silky paper it's printed on, the simple and elegant cover and the small rising sun motif on the spine. It's a beautiful thing to hold and to read and leaves everything entirely to your imagination.

Transition

2006-05-29T18:14:00.000+10:00

Back from Melbourne...Few changes going on around here. City of Ravens is moving to a new site. In the mean time, attempting to move posts to new site...and this site will be renamed...more soon!

And Thanks to all for the Birfdee greetings!

Another year none the wiser

2006-05-22T12:19:00.000+10:00

I'm in Melbourne. The sun is peering out fitfully, but at least it's shining if every now and then. Otherwise it's cold, grey and cloud banked. Another year, another birthday. Another year none the wiser. Time to take a step abck and reconsider and reimagine my life. Has it been worth it?

"..And thanks for all the fish"

2006-05-18T21:06:00.000+10:00

Manish Vij has left the Mutiny, Fair People [sobs]. He's already taken his photo/ID off the sidebar. If only it were April 1 indeed, and we could wake up tomorrow and find it isn't true.

At least he'll be back writing on vij.com. Go ye forth and peruse the archives until he updates: you'll be well rewarded. I'm really going to miss his sense of humour and the Down You Orientalist Scum posts [sigh]. Yeah, I thought this worthy of a post...

So, bets are on, that he's getting married ;-)

*****

All the best Manish. And don't forget the towel.

The Passing of Schwassmann-Wachmann 3 and Remembering Halley's Comet [drafty]

2006-05-18T16:19:00.000+10:00

Or, 1986 Redux

Remember Halley's Comet? Back in '86 the world was abuzz and a-jitter with the news that Halley's Comet, one of the most famous in history, would be makng one of its rare passes by the Earth. Most of us know the story: Edmond Halley, observed the comet in 1682 and inferred that it was the same comet seen in 1531 and 1607 and predicted that it would reappear every 75-76 years. This means that most people are likely to see it once in their lives, twice if lucky - it's predicted to appear again in 2061. It was an international event, at school we were obsessed by it and followed its travels closely, boasted of how much of it we had seen. My family, following the enthusiasm of my nascent astronomy obsession borrowed binoculars and donned scarves and gloves to spend several very cold and mostly cloudy nights (we're talking Tasmania here) hoping for a glimpse. On the "final" night, no amount of begging would induce my already fed-up father to drive the switchbacks up Mount Wellington, which was reputed to have the best view, to join the assembled hordes. I never saw even a gas trail, to my enduring disappointment; the clouds rolled in and we gave up for the last time. I think apart from the overcast weather, we didn't pick the right times and the light pollution from our suburban backyard wouldn't have helped in any case.

Fast forward twenty years. Schwassmann-Wachmann 3, or more prosaically, Comet 73P, is passing by the Earth and breaking up further in the solar wind. Its fragments will be most visible this weekend, so you are ~~commanded~~ encouraged to get out of bed early, grab a set of binoculars and head out to see it. It should be visible to the naked eye as a faint object with a tail and more clearly with a telescope or binoculars. In the coming weeks as its fragments move away it will only be visible with such assistance. And guess what? We have a ten inch telescope and binoculars as well as the somewhat ineffective little refractor I got for my 16th birthday. I think I'm going to be getting up early for the next seven days at least. Of course, the wonderful irony is that they are in light-polluted Melbourne, where I'll be for a few days. But here in telescope-free Canberra is a marvellously low level of light pollution on any given night and in the far northern and southern suburbs the night is thick with stars, such as you would normally see only in the Bush. Even the arm of the Milky Way is clearly visible, the dust clouds and gas trails and many stars almost obscure the constellations. Orion has to be picked out from the myriad, and suddenly you appreciate more that the ancients were even able to identify and imagine them, and that the same ones were known all over the world.

The Age on 73P

Astronomical Societies Homepages: Australia, Canberra (with the ANU), Victoria, NSW

NASA's Near Earth Object Object Program

[another floating post]

ANU Podcasting

2006-05-16T14:42:00.000+10:00

Like every university worth its mettle (and seal), the ANU has an excellent Public Lecture program and seminar series across the university. The ANU is Australia's most highly regarded University, and though Canberra isn't really on the itinerary of most international writers and activists, they'll often make the stop at the ANU to give a seminar. Past visitors include Amitav Ghosh, John Raulston Saul, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gamain.

Now the ANU takes it a step further and provides us with podcasts of some of the lectures from the Public Lecture series beginning year. Click to subscribe to the feed here.

Main Page for lectures to be podcast here.

Events calendar billboard.

Sidebar Blues

2006-05-16T14:37:00.000+10:00

This blog is really meant to be about my adventures in Canberra as well as somewhat more serious stuff like the politics I thought I'd be closely following, being in the nation's capital. So far there's been few actual tales from the City of Ravens and still less seriousness. So I'm thinking of branching out and separating along subject lines. I'm also going to start a separate food blog and potentially shift this one to a new site. I can't seem to do things as well as some, for example, so this is the route I may have to take. So my blogging life will be completely compartmentalised! I'm hoping to do some more writing no matter how little time I have right now, and want to write and educate myself alot more about things that concern me or that I am passionate about - especially things like economics (let me break that one to my Dad), development and public health. And improve my writing full stop.

******
Someday I really am going to learn about web page design *properly.* I'll learn how make nice webpages, embed photos, even the occaisional Flash animation. And someday I'm also going to remember not to spell "centre" the English way when writing HTML tags.

When I changed the format for this blog recently, I didn't fully appreciate that "changes to template will not be saved" really meant that "changes to template will Not Be Saved." Bang, bang, and my blogroll disappeared. I can't even remember everything that was on there, so I'm slowly updating things and re-finding links though I can't help but feel that there's still alot missin. This format is a lot more compact anyway and so it looks like there's fewer links than before. I'm slowly collecting my old links bit by bit so keep watching this space.

At least I'm not having as much of a problem as Rage is having, he lost his entire template. Bizarre, that version of Minima is still on offer to me.

Lazy/Tired Recipe

2006-05-12T10:51:00.000+10:00

Ah, the life of a student! Unending piles of work coupled with enhanced procrastination abilities, strange hours that make you well acquainted with the cleaners and last tram/train/bus, the perpetual student cry of "I'm hungry" and the unparallelled ability to home in on free food.

Food is a permanent obsession. There's never enough time to cook. You miss home food, yet when you try to make one of those dishes it just doesn't taste like Mum's. You have to train yourself to stop eating cereal three times a day.

So what do you cook when you come home, you're tired, you want something that takes half an hour or just one pot?

Good question. The answer varies - I have a number of recipes for fast-ish food depending on whether I want little washing or a fast meal with more variety. Pasta is a favourite stand-by, whether with pre-made tomato sauce (City of Ravens Prefers "Dolmio's Spicy Capsicum") or mushrooms sauteed in a butter/olive oil mix with thyme, garlic and rosemary and maybe a little bit of cream. There's Ye Olde Museli, which I think I ate for dinner for nearly two weeks straight once. By the end of it I craved fresh vegetables so badly Iw as nearly crawling up the walls. I don't think I'll be doing that again. There's this colourful trio that's actually quite quick to put together if you use canned tomatoes, one of those packets of fresh greens and cut the potato up into small pieces to cook faster. Then there are the South Asian options of rice and dhall and speedily cooked spicy vegetables. But this can take too many pots.

But one of my all time favourites is something I threw together one day but have since become addicted to: Soba noodles in green 'curry.' It's simple, requires one pot (you could even dispense with a bowl, I suppose ;-) ) and just *yummy*. I'm vegetarian so I try to get green curry paste without shrimp whereever possible, though I suppose if you really want you could put *meat* in there. Praise be for galangal and kaffir lime, greatest combination on earth.

~15min max
1 pkt soba noodles
1/2 can green curry*
fried tofu pieces (as much as you like)
fresh bok choi or other greens - a few leaves to half a bunch
(optional) thai basil, vietnamese mint or "laksa leaf," torn

*I use Aroy-D, it doesn't contain shrimp and it has shredded bamboo shoots for added texture.

Heat water to boiling, add a sheaf of the buckwheat noodles. Cook until just softened and drain. Add half a can of the green curry, heat through and add tofu pieces and greens. Cook on medium heatt for five-ten minutes or until greens are just wilted. Add herbs and serve.

Kitchen notes: Soba noodles often come in packs of neatly wrapped sheafs of three. You could alternatively make the green curry from first principles with a store bought pasts. Use about a tablespoon of green curry paste , fry well in oil until fragrant and add coconut milk. Cook for ten minutes before adding noodles and other ingredients. And of course you could make your own paste and freeze for when you need it as I do.

Check out more fast recipes from Vernoona, Sartorial, Cassiopeia Gegenbauren III, taichifox and Serenity Later.

Oh, and I am thinking of starting up a separate food blog for my food ramblings and experiments. Suggestions for a name welcome! Alas, runcible spoon is taken.

Joy

2006-05-10T13:05:00.000+10:00

Todd Russell and Brant Webb finally emerge after two weeks underground. There are simply no words to describe this.

Picture credit: The Age.

Escape

2006-05-09T18:21:00.000+10:00

Honestly, I just want to grab a camera and fly out of here to anywhere and everywhere.

Trivial Matters: Kashmir [drafty]

2006-05-09T17:01:00.000+10:00

Sudha Koul's beautiful memoir of Kashmir, The Tiger Ladies is an elegy to the lost Shangri-La of her childhood. Kashmir, valley of Sage Kashyap encircled by the peaks of the Karakoram, one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Kashmir is unsual in India in having a majority Muslim population, but for centuries, both populations lived in something more than harmony, evolving a culture and literature all its own that relates to Persia, Central Asia and India. Kashmir was meant to be the "K" in Pakistan, but wasn't surrendered during Partition. Since then it has been a major point of contention between Pakistan and India causing both to go to war twice. It's still a heavily disputed territory. Koul, a Kashmiri Pandit, left in the 60s, eventually followed by her entire family as Kashmir erupted into partisan violence. She describes the slow descent from paradise into chaos, the exile of the Pandits, the impossibility of returning home and the loss of a way of life, of innocence. It's a topic that still raises heated nationalistic debate between individuals and nations.

Recently, however, things have been improving in the State of Jammu and Kashmir. The tourists, life-blood of the Kashmiris, are returning to take up rooms in the houseboats of Dal Lake, to camp up in the hills and buy the famous shawls. Michael Palin recently paid a visit in his Himalaya series for the BBC. And then there's Akshay Mahajan's recently trip.

Akshay Mahajan is a twenty year old who's photo-essay/blog, Trivial Matters, is hardly trivial guff. His work is wonderfully reflective and thoughtful, and the photography is stunning. Please, please do yourself a favour and see the essays and photos from his recent trip to Kashmir. I absolutely loved this series: plus I now have something more than Palin's Himalaya text to paw through in desperate search of a Dal Lake fix. The bulbul reminds of a certain cheeky squirrel in Kensington gardens who posed for photographs.

The photos of Dal Lake also remind me so much of Norway (yeah, I'm obsessed). There's something about water that transforms a place. There's a sort of translucency about everything, a softer, different light about such places that you don't get anywhere else. Kandy with its lakes and green, green hills, Norway with its mountains and water and endlessly repeating motif of fjord and sea. Sky and land and light are mirrored back, whether rain hail or shine, and the light reflects back and forth...it's like...like...the heart of a diamond.*

Akshay's eyewitness account of Kashmir was informative and intriguing. I was particularly struck by this line:

Kashmir in the days I spent there struck me as a paradoxical paradise - a place of outstanding natural beauty and a beautiful people and a place of visible sadness. 1989 is the year that is entrenched in the minds of the older Kashmiris. It is the year that everything changed for them and so they bring up comparisons of the situation before militancy and after militancy.[Link]

Change a few words and he could be talking about Sri Lanka: another paradise rent by civil strife, communal and political, for some thirty years now. Currently poised on the brink of civil war after a three year ceasefire, the story of Kashmir's descent has eerie similarities to that of Sri Lanka: a previously peaceful relationship split down partisan and communal lines. No government or group seems to really commit to a permanent peace. Meanwhile, the citizens on both sides continue to suffer:

The victim, the ordinary Kashmiri, is left alienated by his own country and an army that was sent there for his protection. As a guide in the Kashmiri mountain resort of Gulmarg told me, "Hum kya boll sakte hai Bhaisaab, hamare awaz cheen lai gai hai. Humare mathe par ek calank chap gaya hai" (We have can't say anything brother, our voice has been taken away from us. Our foreheads have been branded).

*******************************************

The Age's article on Dal Lake's floating market
Culinary Art of Kashmir, online cookbook of Kashmiri Food
Sudha Koul's biography on Intentblog
Google Search for Photos of Kashmir

Note: this post may be be edited and updated.
********************************************
* I'm so florid I'm blushing.

Budget 2006

2006-05-09T14:27:00.000+10:00

Random apathetic musings

One of the things one tends to forget about Canberra is our access to the corridors of power. Sure, we see Parliament House all the time - from the ANU side of the lake, across the lake form Pialligo, from the hills, as the biggest roundabout ever on our way to the trendy southern haunts of Manuka and Kingston. The sun glints dramatically off the giant flagpole, "the largest steel structure in the world," we are no longer allowed to roll down the turf on the roof, and an ugly temporary "security fence" has been sitting around it since 2001. But rarely, unless a visitor is in town, do we bother to mosey down for an afternoon or evening in the House of Reps or the Senate. One friend thought it a good thing I was moving to Canberra, because of my interest in politics. My old college was full of political science students studying for Masters in International Relations. Budget Night 2004, and a few had the inspired idea of actually going down to Parliament House instead of watching it live on TV -after all, it is just down the road. Bush was here recently, as was Tony Blair, but no one thought to go and see them. As for Princess Mary, she turned up at uni, in fact in the building next door to my hostel (I missed her by fifteen minutes, I found out later). Canberra was and remains a temporary residence for politicians, they fly in every now and then and leave; the fate of such designed capitals everywhere. We tend to visit Old Parliament House more for the Happy Hour cocktails and the beautiful rose gardens, the portrait gallery. Out-of-towners like myself spend alot of time whinging about the lack of nightlife.

Tonight Peter Costello delivers his 11th Budget. Perhaps I should go: it's probably my last chance to see something of significance live in Parliament House before I leave. Apart from the appalling prospect that this is his 11th year as treasurer and heir-in-waiting.

Bah. Who cares?

Meandering Afternoon

2006-05-05T16:22:00.000+10:00

Many a draft not born to blush unseen [something like that] waiting in the wings. And many miles to go before I sleep.

I just looked outside my window. The day has been beautiful: blazing sunshine has returned to us, the strong basenotes of woodsmoke from controlled burnings is in the air. The trees are in full autumnal glory - I love autumn, that's all there is to it - and the wallabies are hopping about in their enclosure just below. But something else is happening: the 7ft high wall around them is covered with some creeper that has turned every shade of red, orange and yellow. There must be some berries there: all kinds of birds have suddenly gathered to feast upon some unseen food: king parrots, currawongs, sulphur-crested cockatoos on the firs nearby, mud martins and indian mynahs. But none of those Australian Ravens with their mad red eyes.

Crazy Laughing Yoga Uncle

2006-05-01T14:06:00.000+10:00

Here, click on "Laughing Yoga Video Clip" for the video link (via Sepia Mutiny).

Reputed to make your day.

So why does this only elicit a slight giggle from me?

Am I that cynical and jaded? Does this mean I am beyond redemption?!

Italian Hot Chocolate

2006-04-22T17:33:00.000+10:00

The leaves are changing colour, there's a chill in the air. Time for Italian-style hot chocolate.

Recipe

100g block Lindt Bittersweet chocolate
1/4 cup cream
skim milk

1. Melt chocolate in microwave or on bain-marie.

2. Add cream, mix well (you can also add cream at the beginning when melting the chocolate).

3. Heat skim milk to near-boiling temperature and gradually add to chocolate-cream mixture, thin to desired consistency.

Notes: Do NOT allow water to mix with the chocolate! Disaster will follow..
You can vary the amount of cream and milk, or use water instead to thin it out.

Happy New Year!

2006-04-16T20:23:00.000+10:00

I surface, realising suddenly that the Sri Lankan New Year - shared between Tamils, Sinhalese, also Indian Tamils, Maharashtrians, and Bengalis, so I hear - ~~must have been~~ has been and gone, last Thursday..a Very Happy New Year! May the new year bring joy...

Update 18/4/06: It appears that many a festival is being celebrated at this time this year! So a very happy festival to you. And, it turns out that quite a bit of India celebrates New Years at thsi time, including Northies, whom I always thought celebrated Deepavali as New Year. I should post some notes up about traditional celebrations, I suppose.

To all of you:

May you find joy

I recall three years ago, in that lovely year, I rushed home from work to light the fire to boil milk before sunset. No one else could make it home early, they were either overseas or at work so I was roped in for the job. It's an auspicious thing, a necessity to do on New Year's, and the overflowing of the milk is supposed to represent the promising bounty of the year ahead. Needless to say, if you heat it long enough.. :-) And yes, we had to make do with a gas stove.

As you can see I'm finally making use of all the photos I took over summer. I meant to blog then, but was too enamoured of - well, being away from the computer. The photos also make me appreciate the sunshine more. Spring wakens the North, we are still enjoying some gentle, warm autumn days that are letting us gracefully into cold time.

And what is a desi New Year's celebration without sweets? :-)

These are Indian sweets, very different from the ones we make in Sri Lanka though we have joyfully adopted the jalebi. Our festival sweets, for New Year and special days, are made of ground mung bean, sweetened coconut, milky rice and stodgy/caramel kaung of various incarnations. A strange word - almost impossible to spell in English. In kaung type 1 as I call it, mung beans are ground to a grainy but fine texture, cooked down with some brown sugar of some sort until it is dark and caramelly and rich. It's then dipped into a yellow batter and deep fried. The batter is also kokiss, an ornamental mould, like a fancy strainer of sorts - my grandmother had a butterfly shaped one, but others use something shaped like a dough cutter - is dipped into the batter and then submerged in hot oil. A crisp yellow, slightly tumeric infused treat, almost flavourless but curiously satisfying. Very good cold. Kaung type 2 used to be my favourite: something halfway between batter and dough is bundled into hot oil (we likes frying). Holding the ball still with a utensil, a skewer is inserted into the centre and twisted until the uncooked batter pops out - like a small dark brown belly with a pop-out belly button. A culinary version of pat-your-head-and-rub-your-tummy.

As for sweet coconut...mmm..sweet sweet coconut..sorry, I digress...we wrap it up in a string hopper, idiappa and fry it..or leave be, I forget which and cared not, only to get my hands on it. And it also tucked away inside milky rice, kiri bath, made of coconut and cows milk, preferably red rice. Kiri bath is a must for any auspicious occaision, from beginning school, to birthdays and weddings.

Traditional games are played at this time of year as well. But I never really saw them, only at expat events and hand-me down ideas from my mother. Trust me to remember the food.

And now...I really must sleep, though it is not even 5pm.

So...here's to a new beginning:

Get well soon, scientician

2006-04-11T10:40:00.000+10:00

My friend, colleague, and fellow postgrad ~~sufferer~~ student, the irrepressible scientician has been going through a tricky time lately from which she is emerging - much kudos for that. But to top it all off, she had an accident today and is in hospital. So this is a shoutout to scientician, best wishes, be safe and well, and come back soon.

Update:No broken bones :-) Scientician now has a blog! Check it out.

Phrase Fractal?

2006-04-10T14:54:00.000+10:00

"Language is fossil poetry."

- Herman Hesse

Hmm..from my interpretation...I like to think that this is like a fractal, of sorts.

Happy Passover

2006-04-04T13:03:00.000+10:00

From "Who let the Jews Out?" from Passover Greetings.

Update: Yes, it turns out that I am late with this greeting. :-)

VS Naipaul

2006-04-03T10:24:00.000+10:00

Prufrock1 has a nice tidbit of VS Naipaul's latest shot of vitriol. Thomas Hardy is "unbearable," his comments on Jane Austen must be read in full, and there's a lovely shot of anti-Muslim paranoia in his refusal to acknowledge Mughal art as"Indian." The full interview at Literary Review can be found here.

Saucer of milk, Sir Vidhia?

Wot I did on My Weekend

2006-04-02T17:19:00.000+10:00

I really need to do some work.

Autumn

2006-04-01T14:57:00.000+11:00

It's officially autumn. There's been a feeling that the weather has been holding back, clinging, as we were, to the heat, thinking of the bitter winter to follow. The leaves are haphazardly changing colour. We've dreaded a sudden change and it has come. The chill at night finally turned into cold days on Thurday, the rain was the deth-knell. Colder winds blow now, breath mists, gloves and scarves will make their appearances. Strangely, only now does it feel like the year has begun.

Degraves Espresso: catching up [d]

2006-04-01T13:33:00.000+11:00

Where to go in Melbourne

For Tom, who was incessantly dragged there for science and cake

Some things become so familiar, such a part of one's landscape that one forgets how one stumbled upon them. Degraves Espresso is a case in point. It took me sometime to work out when I first went there, before it became a daily addiction. Enn turned up at a birthday bash and took us there for lunch as we wandered the city hell-bent on dissipation. Degraves Lane is one of those Melbourne laneways full of character: wonderful old buildings, cafes, the odd food shop, bakeries, a Christian Science reading Room, the CAE and a specialist paper shop. It sits at the far end of funky, cafe-saturated Degraves Lane, towards the Flinder's St station end. Belgian waffle stand behind. Instant cool. Degraves is an uber-cool, "Euro-style" cafe (according to The Age Cheap Eats Guide). I fell in love at once, and it became my home away from Brunetti's.

Outside, a mix of marble topped cafe tables, assorted chairs, some wicker, some padded and varying heights. Inside, dark wood; a mezzanine, old fold up cinema chairs and rough tables. Reproduction Art Deco French prints, a coffee and tea stand, panini, cakes in a misty cabinet in the window, house wine in a large green bottle: a wine keg, almost. All the fittings have a suitably, if studied, grunginess: slightly worn but established, random period fittings thrown together. A favourite Melbourne cafe style that Degraves does brilliantly. There is a board with specials for the day, an a la carte menu with a selection of nibbles ($5-$14). The food is generally good and quite vegetarian friendly from large, hearty bowls of soup with piles of toasted pide, pastas and fritattas. If you're in a rush, their paninis ($7-$8) are excellent and their vegetarian ones sought after by omnivores and veggoes alike. The best is the roasted eggplant panini with hummous and greens. The bar is open all day.

But what about the coffee, you ask? Worry not. The coffee is uniformly excellent and should be sampled with one of their cakes, though the cakes are of varying quality. My favourite is the sticky date pud ($6.50) which comes warm, served with vanilla-seed-studded ice cream and butterscotch sauce. Consistently brilliant. Another success was a pear and raspberry almond tart, and the small slices of linzertorte with home-made raspberry jam. The tea is also excellent: proper leaf tea with generous teapot, strainer, strainer holder, mini milkjug. Teas and tisanes range from marsala chai to yerba mate. So after a hard day's work, one and one's friends turn up here to share a piece of cake and down the coffee before heading home or heading out.

Service can vary from attentive to insufferable. The place is haunted by the groovy, boho, suited and daggy alike. For a while Degraves closed early at 5pm but it seems to have returned to its former hours, a place for early dinner closing around 8pm. It's always busy but the food always arrives in good time. A favourite place to catch up or to spend quality time with oneself.

Elizabeth's Garden (draft)

2006-03-31T11:52:00.000+11:00

These are some photos from my visit to Melbourne over Christmas last year.

For two years, Elizabeth was our next door neighbour when we lived in a northern suburb of Melbourne. A splendid lady, she would pass preserves over the fence, spoil us with special teas and lunches, and ply us with home-made shortbread and mince pies at Christmas. Ten years on, we still keep in touch. Every time I go home I am treated to lunch at her house, dessert and fine tea bought specially for the purpose. This time, I took my camera round.

The house is a clinker brick, typical of 1950s middle-suburban architecture set in a large block, at least a quarter of an acre, that today would be subdivided into a set of units. Originally, the house belonged to an Italian family, perhaps one that came over in that first influx of European migrants after the war. They kept a cellar and had a mini-orchard in the backyard.

Many Italian migrants came from villages and farming families. They came to these new suburbs and planted a variety of fruit trees and vegetables, many of which were unfamiliar to the Anglo-Australian palate: eggplants, zucchini, persimmon. In keeping with many Italian gardens from this period to the present, Elizabeth's garden is a treasure trove of fruit trees ranging from apricot, passionfruit vines, and apple to rarer gems like cumquat, edible pomegranate and quince.

Italian migrants often made their own house wine, grappa, and the garden is also full of wine grapes: smoky purple, green; they are so sour they are impossible to eat. Elizabeth makes jam from them.

Her beautiful old lemon tree bears fruit all year round; the leaves are as fragrant as the fruit with its thick pith and highly fragrant skin. She has no use for the quince: and since I am a fan, I'm the only taker for the oddly coarse fruit which turns all crimson and perfumed after cooking.

Vegetables are planted and left to their own devices. Tomatoes, corn, broccoli, cabbage, all turn up intermittently. No need for a greenhouse: just stick them in the ground and watch them grow.

The grape and passionfruit vines grow on a long trellis, they're both so big now that they form a verandah-cum-tunnel around the garden. I love the passionfruit flowers, so named because of the cross in the centre. The tender young leaves are also a very fresh, tasty salad green.

Here and there roses, pelargoniums, black-eyed susans and old fashioned wax flowers peer from the undergrowth. There's room for a chair to sit and drink tea under the grapevines.

pWHY Fundraising

2006-03-29T13:57:00.000+11:00

Rather stumped at the moment..got ideas for posts but not much inclination to write at the moment.

Also, I'm trying to think of some ways of fundraising via the web for Project Why. If anyone has any ideas or resources, please leave a comment.To find out more about them, here's the blog for Project Why.

Amardeep Singh on Dalrymple's City of Djinns

2006-03-26T13:07:00.000+11:00

Short book lovin' post. Hmmm..I have been very bad lately. I have bought a book every pay date. So even though I try to take some of the books I have here back to Melbourne every trip - to lessen the load for the final move - I seem to replace them just as quickly. Recent purchases include:

1) Julian Barnes' Arthur and George, paperback just released so the lovely cloth bound hardbacks were going for the same price at the ANU Co-op. Yum. And yum, again, I say.

2) Rohinton Mistry's A Fine Balance. Mmmm....

3) Paul Hyland, Indian Balm, a travelogue from his trip following the historical trail of the ointment manufactured by his ancestors, travelling mainly along the Godavari. Driving me nuts.

4) Dorothy Wentworth-Walsh, A Room in Bombay. Oh dear. So much potential for an Australian perspective on wathcing India from 1947 to the present. Doesn't quite make it.

5) I didn't buy it but I witnessed it, my mate Dazzler bought the first volume of the latest Norton Anthology *sigh* It has colour plates too. I - I mean, We - tore off the packaging as soon as we left the shop. That is no mere doorstop, it's a weapon...

Until I have time to blog and post a little lovefest on the fabulous William Dalrymple, here's the equally fabulous Amardeep Singh on one of my favourite travel books, City of Djinns. Get thee to the bookstore. I say...

Melbourne (again)

2006-03-09T15:30:00.000+11:00

Yes. We are just so damn cool, says Danny Katz.

He's Ours, Now....

2006-03-08T12:08:00.000+11:00

JM Coetzee takes up Australian Citizenship. A one-man ceremony with Senator Amanda Vanstone and Cornelia Rau. I wasn't aware that he's been living in Adelaide for some time now. Very interesting, hobbits...

Perhaps we can claim that we have/had two Literature Nobel Laureates now...not that we even remember the first one...

Update: Vikram Seth in Australia

And in other news..Vikram Seth [all hail] is in Adelaide for the Adelaide Writers Festival. There's also an Age/Dymocks book event on March 14. [I will not fly down just for that. I will not fly down just for that].

We might get lucky though: ANU is often privileged to have most writers stop here if no where else - Terry Pratchett, a nice session with Neil Gamain (wish major bands would do the same thing :-) ), so Canberrans, keep your ears peeled for any sudden announcements. This goes for Seth gigs in Sydney -surely, surely he will go there, it would be criminal not to...

Updates:

Sydney Meets Vikram Seth: Thursday 9th March:

Seth will be dicussing Two Lives:

Talk/Signing:
1pm, Stanton Library
Hutley Hall
Level 1, North Sydney Council Chambers, 200 Miller Street
North Sydney NSW

Literary Event:
6.30pm, Gleebooks
49 Glebe Point Road
Glebe NSW

Melbourne, Tuesday 14th March
6.30pm Asialink: Sidney Myer Asia Centre (a.k.a Rust Wall)
The University of Melbourne
Crn Swanston Street and Monash Road
Parkville VIC

Shoutout: Anyone want to drive up to Sydney tomorrow? I am serious. Fairly serious.

Melbourne Malaise (draft)

2006-03-06T16:34:00.000+11:00

Homesick
For the people that I live with
Homesick
For the spirit I'm missing
Homesick
For the country that I'm living in
- Finn Brothers

It's been a bumper day for nostalgia and homesickness today. My Other Favourite Book/Lit blog, Prufrock Two, is apparently in Melbourne and has blogged about it. He's posted up some wonderful minutes from travelling through the city, from travelling in trams to bookstores and the shocking cost of books in Aus. Well, we know I'm happy blather for hours about bookstores in Melbourne. Not to mention the cafes. Everything in Prufrock's entry made me smile and also made me want to jump on the next flight out. Ah, Melbourne. Mexicans, the New South Welshmen call us, as we are "south of the border." Typical Sydney. Sure they may have a splendid harbour and bridge, an Opera House, one of the most recognisable skylines in the world, sensational weather. Weather that means an overcoat is a bit of a joke even in winter, that the sun shines all day long and not when it feels like it. Superior Melbournians sneer slightly and politely. Yes, they say, but we have culture, we're more genteel. Always have been, yew know [sniff, sniff]. Maybe Sydney does have more gigs and bigger theatre scene. But Melbourne is more enduring some say: Sydney is like a whore: she's brash, sexy and fun, but in the end you just want to go back to the Duchchess. Even if your parties are better. Melbourne, the world's most "liveable city" (a term that still makes me laugh out loud ten years on) circa 1992, right turns from left hand lanes, trams, trams everyhwere, where do you drive? Melbourne is more integrated, more cosmopolitan, we'd like to believe, whereas Sydney is ghettoised; sprawling, impersonal, dangerous, decadent. Springvale (Vietnamese) and Dandenong (Desidom) nothwithstanding. And please, don't mention our gang war. "I've heard good things about Melbourne," said an assistant enthusiastically, while in an an antiquarian bookstore on London's Charing Cross Road. "I'd love to live there." I look at him incredulously. Melbourne? The murky Yarra isn't exactly the Thames. Southbank isn't quite Darling Harbour. But it shines on a sunny day, full of happy families and yuppies alike strolling, taking river cruises, dodging the fountains, eating ice cream from Charmaine's. Birrarung Maer complements the serenity of the Yarra and surrounding parks and gardens; quiet walks on the green beside the river, Centenary Bells, green hills to roll down. No, Melbourne isn't as glamourous as Sydney, not quite so beautiful, quite so spectacular. It's quieter, smaller. More meditative, maybe. Greener. Hey, 150 years of friendly rivalry won't end any time soon :-)

Prufrock writes about somewhat sedate sea gulls - really? They didn't try to steal chips from your very hand? The weather is changing only once every 24hours and not every few hours - remarkable! My penchant for taking a jumper with me even on a 36C day in Canberra probably stems from my 11 years in Melbourne; where the day may start balmy, become overheated and then freezing cold and wet. On one day I distinctly remember there being heavy rain, thunder, wind and lightning followed by a burst of sunshine - every two hours. We would sit through cold, wet, gloomy winter days to have the sun burst out at 5pm, just before setting. Buskers rampant in the Bourke Street Mall, newly refurbished, from the South American troupe who featured in Salaam Namaste to the Aboriginal elder doing the blues. Wurundjeri Country. Cafes spilling onto foothpaths as a matter of course, bubble tea joints, a small Chinatown complete with Harajuku-inspired boutiques, a cinema and obligatory restaraunts with tanks full of lobster in the windows. Taxi drivers who know where the Supper Inn is, and Chamy's the terrific dumpling place on Tattersall's Lane, Banana Leaf, the first Malaysian Restaraunt in Melbourne still serving top notch laksa thirty years on. Tiny alleyways that lead off into mini cafe or boutique shopping strips, bookstores, ultra-hip bars, clubs. The Croft Institute, hippest club in 2002, behind some rubbish bin in Croft Lane; fruitless searching by geeky friends late at night: it was set up like a lab and stored drinks in Schott Bottles, complete with dark wood benches. Or so I heard. Ethnic streets: Vietnamese on Victoria, Greek on Lonsdale, Italian on Lygon, Turkish/Lebanese on Sydney Road. Inflated prices on Spring Street to match the public servant purses of surrounding Parliament buildings: toff wine bars like The European and incomparably fabulous and wanky Melbourne Supper Club, hidden away upstairs with irresistible couches and corners, $6 cappucinos at Bonum's. Nearby, the Waiter's Restarunt, opened in 1947 is still producing comfort food in huge servings. Reader's Feast in the old Dymock's store, offering 10% credit on all book purchases, voucher mailed out once every six months, so that's where all my money went. Readings in Carlton, Borders across the road, Brunswick St Bookstore's compact, well stocked space. Lygon Street for watching the passing parade, still a place to be on Saturday night for the people watching and the food: a gelateria with 100 flavours, including jasmine. Melbourne University for those buildings. "They wanted it to be like Cambridge and Oxford, you know, so they imported the sandstone," said the proud bus driver every second day. Crimson rosellas by day, possums in the trees next to the Maths Department at night; 10min out of the CBD. Brunetti's, to read, eat and commune.

***********************************

I need to go back. Soon. I miss my family, my friends. I need perspective. And I need my city.

***********************************

And then again, there was Wog Boy. It was on TV last night, I missed it when it came out in 2000. Suddenly enlightened me on many phrases that friends would drop:

"I'm half Serbian and half Croatian. I get up every morning and I want to kill myself."

"Anti-pasto? Naw, I'm very pro-Pasta..."

"Farkin' " (insert into sentences at will).

"What am I meant to be? Zorba Dundee?"

The magic Pick Up Line, Works Every Time. It's thin on plot, merely a shoddy framework for stand up gags. Nick Giannopoulous is not a pretty man, but somehow he comes across as a bit of a rough diamon. Taking the sting out of "wog." That Melbourne skyline, the Greek and Italian enclaves of Oakleigh, Preston and Lalor; the recognisable nonnas and corner pizza and souvlaki joints.

And, in turn reminding me of my crazy bunch of friends, inseparable at all hours either chatting on MSN or calling up in the Days Before Texting. Being in the Brownless Medical Library together pretending to study, shushed by irate librarians, hopping on a tram for the half hour ride to Acland Street St Kilda for cakes in the middle of the day. Last year of exams, hallelujah, have to get a real job next year. Or do Honours. Eating Brunetti's chocolate eclairs and drinking coke in front of the gym windows at 10am after Functional Genomics lectures. The Acland Three laughing themselves silly over Wog Boy, maaate, nah, maaate, you're not wrong, Beryl, things are crook in toolarook, I gave DeeBee a root...vegetable instead of a posy for the Ball...hah hah, ball, I said ball, geddit? I swear, he wasn't looking at my croissant. Charizzo wearing a headband of plastic flowers and a skirt made of 70s ties, because my Dad used to be a hippie, but he hates them now, you know? RhokChic's journal of delicious tidbits from herself and the rest of the gang, words to ponder, reflect on, muse. Winn's incessant double entendres while remaining a perfect gentleman, still the finest we know. Caz-au-lait and coffee, sushi, arts and sciences together. Tom's Total Nerd look and Degraves Espresso, talking about mutliple domains and quantum mechanics, did you know that the British taught Indians how to cook? We lost him to Cambrdige. Throwing autumn leaves at each other on South Lawn. Brunetti's on Fridays and anydays. Meeting in front of Contact, then Plush Fish for late afternoon rendezvous, Charizzo and I pretending to breathe on the soy chicken wings on the ledge (they stopped putting them there afterwards). Walking into the unbelievably snooty designer shoe store, Miss Louise, in student gear, putting on fake desi and Filipina accents. General Stupidity, not much effort to induce laughter, junk food, and heartfelt friendship. We've grown apart a bit over the years but the core remains. My God, how I missed you all this morning. Here's to you, Crazy Constellations. Maaaate.

More Silly Quizzes

2006-03-02T17:01:00.000+11:00

You Are Bad Girl Sexy

Girl, you are nothing but trouble. And that's hot.
You've got the classic bad girl sexiness mojo going on.
And your badass attitude makes men fear you - and crave you.
Don't give into people who say to tone it down. You're perfect as is.

What Kind of Sexy Are You?

Yeep. I am tha'.

More English Fox Pass

2006-03-01T14:51:00.000+11:00

(1) divya108 and flygirl went for a walk around the ANU side of Lake Burley-Griffin. Sitting on some warm rocks, they watch the sun go down, and discussed life, the Universe and Everything. Flygirl brings up Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things, since divya108 mentioned in her previous profile sketch that in some ways it "changed her life." Whence, whither and how, asks flygirl, and most importantly, why?

divya108 sketched out how it was prescribed in her Year 12 (reminding flygirl that she is OLD, kids, really, really old), and asked to speak about it for final assessment, comparing it with Sense and Sensibility. Brilliant, I thought, Sense and Sensibility would make a great comparison. What a great topic to have! Beats Peter Corris any day. But what about Mansfield Park, with Edward Said's interpretation as well? divya108 went on to speak about Roy's book. She spoke well, and in detail. In climax:

divya108> "...And it was then that I came to understood."

[cue hysterical laughter]

(2) flygirl, divya108 and DP are at DPs house. flygirl is teasing DP, and attemptsto up the ante on What Desi Girls Do by imitating a fictional gradmother (complete with generalised Indian accent and gesticulation):

flygirl> "Wen I was a girl, we had to walk bay-yar foot, we have to boil our clothes and - "

[cue hysterical laughter]

(3) I know I did one last night but can't remember it.

Not Quite Engrish

2006-02-23T16:31:00.000+11:00

X's project is genetical
Inappropriate use of the word "whom"
"all in the same vote"="all in the same boat"
four=for
nock=knock
pashionate=passionate
reportware=repertoire

1st Runner Up:
matrices=matresses

Winner:

igsist/igist=exist

Do these people read?!

a la KK.

Interim

2006-02-20T17:03:00.000+11:00

Greetings.

Currently Terra Australis Incognita (devoutly hopes interpreted Latin right).

Meme to do (ta, Rage). Haevn't forgotten, honest.

Beginning to think that despite "underdeveloped" nature of blog, could potentially write for Desi Criticsas only requirements seem to be (a) have a strong opinion, pref "right wing" (b) string more than two sentences together. At this rate could be Desi Critic Diva *sniff*

And I highly reccommend:

Life in the Undergrowth currently screening on the ABC, Sunday 7.30pm. Taking to the Air episode was on last night, best yet. Now I understand the term "giddy mayfly."
Little Britain Series 3 screens Wednesday 9pm, ABC (huzZAH!)
Amitava Kumar's Blog. Now I remember...
Kala Ghoda Arts Festival offical Blog (that's it, I'm moving to India)
Reading bits of the Gita at least once a day to stop self from going insane, to revive, to bliss out.

Later, dudes.

Far Northern Queensland: Interlude

2006-02-16T17:43:00.001+11:00

Alas, I am not there. But the preivous map I posted made me reach for my holiday snaps. Have no digital ones of Norway, my Other Favourite Place, so making do with some FNQ ones from my trip last September. This one was taken on the road to Port Douglas. Feeling azure?

Walking along a path in the Daintree Natonal Park.

Places I have been

2006-02-16T14:33:00.000+11:00

create your own visited country map
or check our Venice travel guide

4%. 96% to go!

Exotica: Fragrant, Spiced, Redolent, Langurous, Infused....

2006-02-14T18:26:00.000+11:00

Rage and Manish of the Mutiny opined in recent posts about the trend of exoticised book covers for novels by desi authors. No matter what the content, the covers invariably contains at least one of the following:

the word "curry" or "spicy" in either the title, blurb or obligatory critical quote on front
"exotic" as per above
sari fabric (preferably sheer and heavily embroidered)
sari border, fabric or embossed
whole/ground spices, tumeric, kum kum essential
kitsch bollywoodesque lettering or movie poster style graphic
bright colours/"official desi palette"
mangoes

One could argue, however, that the author may not have control over the cover artwork and the various incarnations they take in different countries. However, in Manish's specific example, it would seem other wise.

Rage rejoins:

"And now, though I have been sick to tears of the food metaphors for more years than I can remember, the scourge remains, and in this example, at least, seems really quite egregious. I just don't know how much creative control the writer has, but you have to see all of the classic examples in this case, and wonder if she couldn't have at least cut some of the most obvious shit out. If we don't stop ourselves from self-exoticization, how can we expect the Man from doing it?

So sisters, do us a favor and stop using mango, chili, spice, papaya, palm trees, curry, vindaloo, coconut, banana.... Just tell your stories, and leave the lame titles out of it." [whole story here]

Equally guilty are the reviewers of such books. Inevitably, noisome comparisons to various curries and subtle spicing thereof are made to the "texture" of a book. When describing a book in a single word, the only word that comes to mind seems to be "spicy." I mean puh-leeze. Is it possible to separate your turgid, ill informed fantasies, redolent of stale curry powder mix in a corner store, out of your assessment of the literary value of a book? Evidently 5000+ years of history may be encompassed by some pretty fabric, funny smelling food and Ancient Wisdom spouted by servile, wise brown people a little given to rigid tradition. Like the hybrid and bastardised versions of classic dishes in a Brit curry house, these reviews diminish the reviewer and reviewed, reducing art to fevered visual sound bites.

Not even the authors themselves are immune. Arundhati Roy seemed to suffer from a lot of idiocy on her early tours - one fan at a book signing asked her where she learnt "such good English." To which Roy quipped "Guatamala." It doesn't help taht she's beautiful and bohemian, even in Indian terms. But my favourite bit of exoticisation is a description of Arundhati Roy in Village Voice. And I quote:

With the 1997 publication of her debut novel, The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy became the public face of India for a lot of Americans. Small Things, which won England's prestigious Booker Prize and sold 6 million copies, was a dazzling, intricate jewel box of a novel about twins growing up in southern India. It left a trail of imitators in its wake and resulted in an explosion of Western interest in young Indian novelists. Roy herself seemed like a ready-baked literary icon: an articulate 36-year-old woman with a delicate face and glossy locks who spoke fragrantly accented English and expressed feisty opinions.

[Link]

I think we have a winner.

I hopeyour English is as fragrantly accentted, subtly spiced, as delicate as a zari-worked border and luxurious as a mango in winter.

More Orientalist Fun from Manish:

Buzzword Bingo

M-m-m-me so Hungry

3rd Final: Live Commentary/Reaction

2006-02-14T14:07:00.000+11:00

ABC Radio streaming on the internet, live commentary on the match. Lag time at least 4s behind radio.

The Gabba pitch is hard and bouncy, making it perfect for the Aussies, more pressure on Sri Lankans unused to this sort of pitch, very different from the flatter ones of the subcontinent. All the more reason they should have pulled out all the stops on Sunday on a dead pitch in Sydney. However, keeping in mind that they lost the toss and the pitch didn't offer much by way of bowling.

Lanka wins toss and, inevitably, elects to bat.

Lankan Line Up: Why have they dropped a Kulasekera? WHY? This is a bouncy pitch! You need medium fasts! So what if Sunday was crap for him - Murali did worse, and by that logic should have been dropped! [much swearing and dismay]

Responses from the flygirl associated public:

CasS: WE COME TO IT AT LAST, THE GREAT BATTLE OF OUR TIMES...

AND SO IT BEGINS. [Ed: Prizes if you can guess where this quote is from]

PeteM: I do hope its close and that cricket is the winner in the end!....nah, I'm really not that bigotted about the Aus cricket team, they do need to laugh at themselves sometimes and not take themselves so seriously.....Symonds and Gilchrist play really well at the Gabba so I am guessing fireworks by one or both...

Dillers:CONFIDENCE is the key word !!!

Update: Jayasuriya out after facing six balls. Poor form.

Sangakkara enters the fray.

CasS: Classic cricket signs:

"Your Valentines is my ticket to the cricket"

"Beats going out to dinner with him"

Shoutout to my former driving instructor, Rob, who three years ago farewelled me with chocolate upon successfull completion of my test, is Welsh and supports Lanka. I'm off my Ps today - at last, a FULL LICENCE!

What kind of Blogger are you?

2006-02-13T14:43:00.000+11:00

Don't all piss yourselves laughing. Apparently I am a:

You Are a Pundit Blogger!

Your blog is smart, insightful, and always a quality read.
Truly appreciated by many, surpassed by only a few.

What kind of blogger are you?

Check it. Wait, I'll post more as soon as I stop laughing...

Goodbye and Goodluck

2006-02-13T10:17:00.000+11:00

Dear Former Captain Ranatunga,

First, let me make it clear that I have enormous respect for you. Respect for your splendid, intelligent and wily batting abilities, for a large part of your captainship, for your courage and determination, and most of all, for winning the World Cup in 1996. I was never so proud to be associated with the Lankan team before. Because of you, Lankan fans and cricket lovers everywhere have new styles and standards of cricket to enjoy - and reach. I am also mightily grateful that you managed to get Sanath Jayasuriya back in the team: the Australian public and Lankan fans were waiting for him.

But Mr. Ranatunga, in spite of this deep respect, and dare I say it, even affection, there are a few issues I would like to take you up on.

First and foremost in my mind is your disgraceful - I am sorry, there is no other word for it - refusal to allow your team to shake hands with the Australians in a 1996 Final. As a fan, I appreciate that the match was hard fought and traumatic; the umpiring decisions left much to be desired, the entire series full of acrimony and spite. However, this still does not excuse your extraordinary lack of sportsmanship and captainship in that moment. Nothing that came before or after justifies this, in my opinion. Ultimately, it was just a game, not some battle for national honour. And it was a gentlemen's game, as Sri Lankans are fond of saying. We spent the series trying to prove that we had that spirit better than the Australians. In the cricket we played, in the way we responded to the Murali Issue, the Sri Lankan team won the hearts of the Australian cricketing public. Joe Public, whether office worker or cleaner, even young Australian kids were supporting our team, in love with our cricket. In one moment, out of sheer spite, forgetting that it was just that, a game, you destroyed this and took the acrimony to another level. You took the battle from the pitch out of the match, out of the ground.

Admittedly, this was now ten years ago. But the taint of acrimony still hangs in the air. Joe Public and the media has forgotten it. There is mostly goodwill when the Lankans tour. This brings me to my next point. The cricket you played changed the face of the one day game altogether. As I said, the support from the general public was extraordinary. Channel 9 and ABC Commentary changed, all but openly supporting your team. Tony Grieg actually showed the injustice of umpiring decisions prior to the second final. Since then, commentary has all but prayed for Lankan victories. Yet you continue to cast nasturitians - I beg your pardon, aspersions - on subsequent tours of Australia. You suggest that the Australian team is "arrogant" for dropping Ponting and McGrath for the Perth clash. Perhaps they are. Yet it is part of their management style to drop players who need a rest or who are underperforming. In any case, our performance - a clear reflection of our attitude as well as our problems with hard, bouncy pitches - was abysmal. Your comments, while not especially inflammatory, weren't not particularly insightful or helpful; and seemed merely calculated to offend. A cheap attempt to reignite the spite of previous tours? So what if they drop a few players? They have enough talent to cope without a few top players and still win matches. If you don't perform, you don't get back into the team until you prove yourself again. We could learn a lesson or two from this, and I am not looking at a particular Jehan Mubarak.

Finally, your most recent comments, suggesting that Murali leave Australia on account of the constant catcalling he receiveds. You suggest that

"...if the Australians can't respect good cricket, they don't deserve to see the best in action."

Murali has his own problems with this issue. True, he has faced every test on the planet and been declared legal on countless occaisions. True he recently underwent yet another test to prove to the Australian public that he is legal, that this is the only country to constantly cat call him. Murali had begged the public to stop. I think Murali could do with developing a thicker skin. This is the country where he'll face the most abuse, but surely he is better than that. It is still a small segment of the population who does this, and they tire after the first over. In this matter I can only refer you to Charlie Austin. Murali is legal. There will always be a hardcore who won't accept him, but it's a minority. By becoming defensive, all he does is give them fuel for their fire. In this country, your best defence is, if you'll pardon the expression, to stick it to them. Bowl well, bowl brilliantly, fight back with words and most importantly, humour. You may recall Murali saying that he changed his mind after seeing the generosity of the Australian people after the tsunami, and I think at this point, may I be so bold as to remind you. Mr. Ranatunga, this shows that in the things that matter, the very essence of friendship, all the spite and catcalling is of no consequence. They are schoolyard taunts that you outgrow, we - and our cricket - are better than that. So what if a couple of kids call him? Let them call. He has 400 scalps under his belt, he is six away from the coveted 1000 mark. His doosra strikes terror into the hearts of batsmen all over. Your comments are useless, petty and spiteful. It's been ten years. Sri Lanka has changed. Australia has changed. Time has moved on. Get over it.

Mr. Ranatunga, I think it's time you stopped delivering unsolicited commentary. Your comments are cheap shots that do nothing - and that is it, literally nothing - for the Sri Lankan team. They don't particually damage them, and they don't give them any encouragement. If anything, it's something like a little boy's attempt at saving face: a mild negativity, a notion that it's really someone else's fault. It casts a slight pall, attempts to justify failure. All it does it diminish you - and it diminishes us.

Let us concentrate on finding more bowling and batting talent for a team that used to bat down to number 8. Let us find more bowlers the calibre of Vaas, who can speed them down a bouncy pitche. Let us find batsmen like Jayawardene, batsmen who will make use of vital balls in creative ways - like you, in fact, Mr Ranatunga. Let's concentrate on working on our fielding, our gamesmanship; on being able to win on any pitch, under andy conditions, not just the ones that suit our native tastes. Let us not try to settle ancient scores - which were effectively settled that splendid July night in 1996 in any case - or engage in petty and acrimonious banter for the sake of it. We are not engaged in some internecine war. We are not children.

We are better than that.

With Thanks and Best Wishes,
Yours Sincerely,

[Flygirl]

Bat Watch and Live Comments

2006-02-10T17:40:00.000+11:00

No, not a bat fetish. Perhaps a batsman fetish. Well, maybe not quite. Some thoughts on Lankan batsmen:

1. Jayawardene: Class, class class. Can anchor an innings, stroke elegantly, but has had problems this series with consistency.

2. Sangakkara: As above. Has done well this series, highest run scorer for the Lankans. He bats beautifully, hitting a good four or six when needed, and can save an innings.

3. Kapugedera: Now I like the looks of this one. At 18 he's still eligible for the U-19 World Cup. He was brought out here to test his mettle in Oz. When he first came out in Sydney, he walked out and fearlessly faced his first ball. Batting down the order as an inexperienced youngster did not faze him, meanwhile, his more experienced team mates panicked and collapsed around him. He didn't knock much, but his courage was inspiring. He was willing to take it to the Aussie team. Today, he's out hitting, right now in fact, much needed fours and sixes, taking the Lankans up to 250 in the last five overs. Having not had the chance to see him much, I'm going to go out on a limb and say I think he's either going to be a great cricketer, or at least a good stand-in man, to do the job in the event of a collapse.

Argh! He was just dropped!

We made the Finals!

2006-02-07T17:32:00.000+11:00

[to the tune of "I'm in the Money"]

We made the finals...We made the finals!

Tra la la...dah dah &c &c.

Woo!

Spirit

2006-02-03T14:22:00.000+11:00

Source:The Age

From Mogadishu via Kenya.

Amputee, cricket fan. Refugee from Somalia. Australian.

Mohamed Yacob. Welcome to the cricketing fold, brother.

Chetna

2006-02-02T11:33:00.000+11:00

November 2005 - February 2006

God Bless you, wherever you are.

[end topic]

2006-02-01T15:07:00.000+11:00

So. Jaya was hitting. So I went home and watched it. What's your point?

[curls up in foetal position]

[/end topic]

Lanka vs SA, WACA

2006-01-31T16:46:00.000+11:00

Would Management please tell me WHY Jehan Mubarak is still batting as an opener? In fact, why is he batting AT ALL? Put him in the Test Team, or send him home. We don't need to anchor serial blockers in a 50-over game. Can we take a leaf out of the Australian Book and dump 'em when they fail to perform?

We are playing SA at the WACA today. More bouncy pitches. We are going to lose of course. I'm not being negative, just realistic. Really. Being a Lankan fan is an ordeal: the Lankan fan starts out somewhat non-committal: after all, there is no telling what form the team is in. We lose a few matches. Then we seem to pull ourselves out of the slump, and win a few in a row. Not only do we win, we do it beautifully. The fan is reminded again of the Glory Year of 95-96 when Lanka redefined the game, won the Cup, taught everyone how to love cricket again. The commentators, public and team are up beat, enthusiastic. Lanka is back in form, the whisper goes round cricketing circles, Jayasuriya the Pirate is back in sizzling form, promising ridiculous boundaries and sixes hit around the ground and scored willy-nilly, bowling figures torn to shreds. Sangakkara and Jayawardene promise elegant innings, wristy, clever strokes, sheer class. Murali spins, Vaas of the swing and tight line is back, shocking opposition openers with the first ball. Suddenly, the fan can beleive again: we can conquer the world!

Then, just as suddenly, we slump again. This is more depressing than the inital losses - the need for victories and points becomes imperative for entry into the finals. Initial losses come about after hard fought battle, within a hair's breadth. This is alright: going down fighting is bearable, honourable. Then we lose spectacularly, several times. A pattern emerges, one that the fan has noticed on previous tours: predictable patterns. Jayasuriya fails to make 50 and is run out/caught behind/caught trying to hit a six after facing a mere twenty balls. This initiates a mini-collapse, which maybe saved by some middle order batsmen: Sangakkara or Jayawardene and Atapattu anchor a decent innings, sometimes scoring a decent total. We lose more wickets, later order batsmen, regardless of capability, lose their heads under the pressure and hit madly or block stupidly. When bowling in defence of a total or vice versa, if we fail to take a wicket in the first ten overs, we are doomed. If our winning streak for the season came about through clever chases or establishing or defending a total, it becomes the formula for the season, regardless of pitch conditions, batting or bowling conditions, who's in the team for that match.

The Lankan fan becomes disgusted, swears s/he will not watch any more matches, hey, not even an innings, because watching talent wasted is the most painful thing. Useless fellows, the fan mutters, and sinks from depression into indifference, for another season.

So I am not going home to watch the cricket. It's far too painful. I need to attain, maintain equanimity. I can find other things to give me joy.

*prays for victory*

Blog Roll

2006-01-31T11:09:00.000+11:00

Until I work out how to put the Blog Roll on the side, I suggest you acquire an addiction - er, visit - these superb blogs. All of them are excellent writers.

Project WHY: Pure Inspiration. Donate to Heartfix and save a kid's life, help them empower the disadvantaged, change the world.

Locana: Politics, culture and commentary from Anand in Bombay.

Uma Mahadevan Dasgupta, also in Bombay.

Dilip D'Souza: On the ground in India. Just don't call him a libertarian.

Vikrum Sequeira, blogger par excellence.

Mall Road by Shivan Vij. Greater Delhi blogging.

India Uncut: by Amit Varma. Don't agree with all of his politics, but splendid writer and a most addictive collector of interesting tidbits.

The Other India: Initiative of a number of aforementioned bloggers, chronicling the realities of the "other" India.

Sepia Mutiny

Amardeep Singh. Literature, politics, commentary. Mmmm. Yes.

Sonia Faleiro, another excellent journalist who posts online.

Good News India, for when the world gets you down.

Miss me?

2006-01-31T10:14:00.000+11:00

Back in the 'hood.

Been in (beloved) Melbourne for the Australia Day holiday, one extra long weekend. Bliss. Flew in to the 'Berra yesterday. Checked email twice in entire 5 days. Sigh. Updates to follow.

HAIL, MURALI!

2006-01-25T10:10:00.000+11:00

Murali celebrates 400th Test Wicket

400 One-Day Wickets.

Credit where credit is due...

2006-01-25T10:07:00.000+11:00

*sighs* We put up a good fight, but lost our nerve in the end, Sri Lankan style, South Asian style. Here's to hoping we make it to the finals.

Boeta Dipenaar

Boeta Dipenaar, 125 runs.

Congratulations South Africa. VB Series is alive.

S'all lowe, baby...

Er...

New milestones in umpire-player relations...Shaun Pollock gives Umpire Aleem Dar a bit o' Protean lovin'..

Thanks and apologies to all those who had to watch it with me last night, and a huge thanks to Sanjay and Jyoti especially for their hospitality.

Photo credits: Cricinfo.

I may have forgotten to mention...

2006-01-25T10:05:00.000+11:00

Muttiah Muralitharan in action

This man.

Muttiah Muralitharan.

Craftsman. Demon spinner. National Hero.

All Hail Thee,

2006-01-23T16:03:00.000+11:00

Jayasuriya 114 off 95

King of the SCG!

Lanka defeats Australia by 51 runs.

Picture credit: Cricinfo.

Stuff and Nonsense

Reconsidering Blogging

Brushing away the cobwebs...

New Wave

Signalling a Return to Blogging

Happy Birthday, Bro

In Memoriam: Douglas Noel Adams, 1952-2001

Yet Another Year, But Slightly Wiser

Cometh the hour....

Gripe Water

You BEWDY!

Augie March at The Corner Hotel

World Cup 2007

Dispatch From the Scientific Frontier, Melbourne Horizon #108 [draft]

Template, Blogging and Internerd Difficulties

City Hopping

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Returning Soon!

bound and gagged

on the knife's edge

...almost...there...almost.........there.....

Tell 'er she's dreaming...

What are my top five dream jobs?

This Blog is Suspended

Where's my idli?! [drafty prelim notes]

Upwardly Mobile: John Butler

Returned!

Bombay Attacked

London, London

INDIAAAAAHHH!

flygirl is going to India!

Do you know Emo?

Congratulations!

Dr Kong!

The Wonderful World of Hypoglycaemia

Or, The Dumbest Morning Ever

Bring it..On?

Our Revels are Now Ended

GO AUSSIE!! Mark III: Fever Pitch, Good Luck Lads

The Antithesis of Football (draft)

O, Frabjous Day!

AUSTRALIA THROUGH TO SECOND ROUND OF WORLD CUP!!!

GO AUSSIE!! Mark II: Good Luck, lads!

Soccer Infiltrates the Addled Brain

World Refugee Day

Football Extravaganza and Open "Forum"

Joga Bonito!

Joga Bonito!

GO AUSSIE!!! [floaty post]

BRING IT ON, BRAZIL!

No sh*t, sherlock!

Stuff History!

Poetry in Motion: Spain Slaughters Ukraine 4:0

Leipzig, 14 June 2006

For Real

Football, football, football! (updated)

A moment in the Sun

JOY - and RELIEF!

Australia vs Japan, Kaiserslautern 13 June 2006

Good Weekend

More on Cover Art: Pulp Fiction

Covered!

Transition

Another year none the wiser

"..And thanks for all the fish"

The Passing of Schwassmann-Wachmann 3 and Remembering Halley's Comet [drafty]

Or, 1986 Redux

ANU Podcasting

Sidebar Blues

Lazy/Tired Recipe

Joy

Escape

Trivial Matters: Kashmir [drafty]

Budget 2006

Random apathetic musings

Meandering Afternoon

Crazy Laughing Yoga Uncle

Italian Hot Chocolate

Recipe

Happy New Year!

No sht, sherlock!*