Thursday, 28 June 2007

You Don=?ISO-8859-1?B?uQ==?=t Own Your Possessions, Your Possessions Own You

28 June – Café’d up at Palms for the first time in a while (still getting $2 coffee which is reassuring about my place in the world) and later had a very nice chat with (Un)wired Ann which has given me a slightly reassuring option for the future.  Also caught up with Angel for some fine dining (???) at the local public house while I should have been packing.  Despite doing all I could to keep the possessions to a minimum over the past 9 months I’m consistently amazed by the amount of crap that accumulates from life.  Much of it could be disposed of but I’m only human and I find it impossible to throw away that pair of spider web underwear that’s got at least a dozen more washes left in its life.  

Wednesday, 27 June 2007

Road Or Mountain Bike?

26 or 27 June – There’s more than two choices, buddy.  Was I busy today or did I just imagine it?  Why is it that the weekly fruit delivery disappears so f**kin’ quickly?  I checked the kitchen every time I passed it – all of a sudden around elevenses I saw a man eating a mandarin and rushed to the drop point only to find a couple of apples and one rotten orange left as I sulked back to my desk I noticed that many of the tables were laden with the fruits of the loom.  Collected some boxes but didn’t manage the logistical feat of getting them to where they needed to be and I’m hoping that an automobile’d “friend” will be able to help a brother out (and they did).  Back to normal on Wednesday – realised that one of the gentleman on my floor who I’d recognised in an elevator was, in fact, somebody I had gone to school with (checked on the internal directory and then made tentative enquiries with others who may have still been in touch with him before I made my move – I remembered him but he couldn’t even remember my name (well, not my real name)).  Corporate farewells are always baffling.  Apparently I’d angered somebody inadvertently so found myself playing the role of Estragon which resulted in new instructions for a visit to the the-aye-ta which meant I wasn’t going home first and therefore I’d have to brave the Sydney winter night (winter, ha!) in nothing but my shirtsleeves while everyone around me was snugged up like bugs in rugs but that’s my lot in life.  Aforementioned play was good (not great) - three character show but they were too cheap to hire a third actor so one of them ended up playing two (they were twins, but still ... Come on).  

Monday, 25 June 2007

I Might Be Lost But Not That Lost

25 June – Getting paid, getting paid.  That’s why I’m working so why is it so much trouble?  But, confidentiality is key.  Saw my second Jindabyne placed film in as many days (almost), which was a hell of a lot better than the first and ploughed through (no, not that kind of ploughing) a book about Afghanistan which was very good.  Food didn’t agree with me today.

Sunday, 24 June 2007

A Darn Victory!

24 June – Woke up, got out of bed, didn’t drag a comb across my head but put a hat on instead.  Discussions and negotiations throughout the day, the thrill of the chase and the loss of an eBay auction and other incendiaries made it a very Sunday.  Why is that it’s been clear nearly the whole of the weekend except for the short times I’ve actually been rolling?  A new skill under my belt?  When I pay $18 Canadian for a pair of socks I’m going to make sure that I get every day of life they’ve got.

Pursuits Out Of Bondi

23 June – Lack of exercise was scaring me so made the decision to take the scenic two wheeled route down to Blacktown where odd jobs and manly tasks awaited us.  Whereis is starting to show its age but managed to find the place with minimal external assistance.  Was very impressed with the hardness of the walls of at Link Plastics™ warehouse – must have diamonds hidden away in them somewhere.  Was reminded of Canada mornings with the fingerless gloves.  While one of us played his hand at being a plumber the others put things up on walls with various degrees of success.  Time being the enemy meant not all of my tasks where able to be completed but did get a bit of Zen and the Art afterwards so not a complete waste of an afternoon. Rolled to a party with some of the couriers in the evening and managed to find it after a bit of a wander through the backstreets of Newtown – had a bit of group maintenance with a troublesome tyre change (Schwalb Blizzards can be difficult at times) before rolling over to the north side – as soon as I was in transit the heavens started to open up but nothing too harrowing which is more than I could say for what awaited me in the form of bad movies and the small people who love them.

Saturday, 23 June 2007

Remake Of A Remake Of A Remake

21 and 22 June – Work ... Hmm.  It’s all confidential, innit?  Kangaroo is a difficult meat to cook but when it’s done right it comes out very well.  Another Sydney Film Festival event, this time it was David Lynch’s latest.  Where to start?  It didn’t star Hugo Weaving (he has to wait until he’s asked) and it was, well, it was a David Lynch film.  Half of it in Polish, half of it in English, characters kept on changing, actors kept on changing, a film within a film, people in strange rabbit suits, his obligatory inexplicable lesbian scene ... Considering that apparently not even he knew what it was about it was actually pretty good.  Also very long and the State Theatre isn’t the place for very long movies – managed to stay awake throughout the entire thing which I was impressed with considering the efforts of some of the audience who shall remain nameless but it really wouldn’t have mattered to much – any one of the individual scenes could have been cut and it would have made no difference and it could have ended at any point in the last half hour and it would have made the same amount of sense but it did have some great music and some amazing shots on the Sony video so it was an evening fairly well spent.  Also, the strange Polish (Russian?) woman reminded me of my pre-stepmother and that was nostalgic.  Much more of a cinematic experience than the two that came on Friday night – The Descent, five sexy girls go caving and find themselves up against monsters ... And each other!  Basically, it was ‘Aliens’ underground (which itself was the sequel to Jaws In Space) which had already been remade quite recently in ‘Dog Soldiers’ so it wasn’t particularly amazing and the only thing that set it apart was the gender of the protagonists.  But even this was infinitely better than Somersault which seemed to be about a sexually advanced mentally and emotionally retarded girl and her adventures in Jindabyne (or was that Jindabyne?  How can there be two Australian movies about the same place so close together?).  I don’t know.

Where's Your Head At? Or Your International Passport To Eating Pleasure?

19 June – Fool that I am was rather forgetful today – this did not seem to cause a problem at the latest working environment (although in effect, it did when I was Orwellianly asked to produce 100 points of ID) - left my wallet at home (I was not completely certain until I returned home on Thursday that it was actually left at home) but ... I got by (always good to have a unexpected meet with the father who loves to come to my rescue in such times).  This did mean a rather lame excuse at not producing a present for the brother’s birthday.  On the way home through the mucky patter I just hit the Milsons Pt end of the bridge (site of the career destroying crash) when I heard the spit-spit-spitting that goes with a puncture through the tyre wall in the wet.  I’d been expecting it for some time when I identified the gash in the tyre when I purchased my new wheels and the 115psi pressure wasn’t really helping – it wasn’t long before the tube was pushing through the Kevlar, just itching to pop.  Walked up to a closed ‘Cranks’ bike store but luckily hijacked the lone store man as he was heading home and let myself get ripped off with an overpriced tube.  Was treated to a spectacular meal at a new restaurant (for me!) for Robespiere’s birthday – Stuyvesant (your international passport to eating pleasure) was much more than I expected – the worst part was the horrifically varied menu that meant that no matter what happened I’d be disappointed because I couldn’t order everything.  Settled on eating a new animal (pheasant, so it wasn’t really much of a choice at all) and decided that I’d just eat something of the plate of every one of my neighbours and also finishing off the majority of everyone else’s ill advised deserts.  Knew I wasn’t going to feel good after that but the fact that I’d forgotten the tobacco fixings at the restaurant proved to be much to bear.  At least too much for Louisa to bear so she was obliged to drive me up to get some tailor mades (oh, the shame of it) and, as luck would have it, the first place where we were able to purchase the latter was only a block away from the former so I was in International Passport holder’s heaven (at least until I took one of them and that made me want to collapse).  

Monday, 18 June 2007

I Feel Your Pain

18 June – Suppose it’s all confidential these days – I can’t really comprehend why.  Apparently my osteopath is joining the long list of people I know with relationship woes – it’s nice that she feels she can confide in me – the fact that she’s got her arms around my neck and I can never shake the feeling that she’s about to snap it like a chicken’s means she can pretty much guarantee a sympathetic response.  Monday night is far too early for beer but it was an extension of a weekend rendesvous that never happened so its okay.  

The Running Man

16 and 17 June – Hangovers are never that pleasant but must be endured – took a while to get all together all that needed to be together but started the morning with a mostly inedible breakfast (partially due to my own malady) at Café Cane with Matt and Charlotte – the little place in Redfern where it all started six years ago (for them, not us) - rains were somewhat plentiful throughout the day but wasn’t enough to prevent me and Dave taking the fixie girls down to Kingsford to finally take possession of the wheels that were initially ordered about a year ago ... But good things are worth the wait.  A couple of Sydney Film Festival fillums in the evening – Park, which was one of the reasons why budgets shouldn’t be given to budding directors – contrived, badly acted, badly scripted and just not very enjoyable unless you were the laugh-a-minute guy sitting directly behind me, followed by Zoo, the story of the love between and a man and a horse.  As sympathetic a portrayal of zoophilia that could possibly be portrayed on screen without being titillating at all (well, maybe a little bit sordid – after all, it is a film about bestiality).  A bit late of a finish considering I was up before six am for the Mosman Mini Marathon (or whatever the hell it was called) - after scrabbling around for 10 minutes looking for the running shorts which had been left somewhere they weren't supposed to be left I was picked up by Matt who took me and his bro down to the start line about half an hour before it started and then had to wait another half hour for the police to okay the route as safe (a little bit of rain’s not going to kill anyone).  Bit disappointed that I was doing the 5k but it’s been a while since I’ve done any running and the smoking and the lack of any real exercise for the past month meant that I wasn’t really sure what I was capable of – in the end took a relatively respectable position (maybe 12th at about 22m or so ... Ha! After checking it was 16th at 20m or so) and didn’t even throw up.  And I was probably the first smoker over the line – not something to be proud of considering Mosman’s latest round of draconian public health laws.  Felt completely wrecked for the rest of the day which resulted in very little activity but someone once told me that’s what weekends are for.  Was suitably impressed by ‘After The Wedding’ - a Danish SFF offering which would have to be have been one of the better films I’ve seen all year – State Theatre is a very atmospheric place to watch a movie but anything over 2 hours in those cramped seats is too much to bear.  

FW: Bell Helmet

Well, I was hoping for a free replacement but it was a nice thought anyway ...

------ Forwarded Message
From: Renee Willcoxen
Date: Mon, 11 Jun 2007 16:37:27 -0500
To: Me
Conversation: Bell Helmet
Subject: RE: Bell Helmet

Hello ***,
Thank you very much for your email and your generous praise of our helmets.
We at Bell were very sorry to hear of your unfortunate accident, but are very glad to know you were wearing your Bell helmets and suffered no serious head injuries.  We do hope you have recovered satisfactorily from any other injuries you might have suffered.
Again, we thank you for taking the time to write to us.  It is indeed gratifying to hear of the many occasions when Bell’s extra efforts are put to the test and prevent serious injuries or save a life. Letters such as yours certainly serve to make our extra efforts here at Bell much more worthwhile.
Please accept our best wishes for many years of safe riding!
Consumer Services


From: Me ...
Sent: Thursday, May 24, 2007 11:42 PM
Subject: Bell Helmet

To Whom It May Concern

I am writing to thank you for the construction of your helmets.

I recently suffered a bad fall from my bike and fell very heavily on my shoulder and head.  Shoulder is incredibly painful but head is absolutely fine thanks to your helmet.  It’s completely destroyed but because of this my head is perfectly fine.


*** *******
Bike Messenger

------ End of Forwarded Message

Saturday, 16 June 2007

15 June

15 June – Wet shoes were no help to starting the day and the fact that there was no manager, no buddy, no direction, no idea, made things a little difficult.  Had a nice lunch and a nice coffee though.  It seems the couriers are still willing to talk to me and a fairly hefty drinking bout at Sydney’ favourite courier hotspots to celebrate Cheeky John’s departure and the crack in Saffy Brian’s bike.  Lost my helmet and fount it.  Met a nice redhead but apparently she didn’t get along very well with Flash, but then again, who does?

Thursday, 14 June 2007

China Might Be Right

13 and 14 June – Strange dayz ... Felt a bit of a lump in my throat when I rode down to Banksmeadow in order to hand in my gear to Toll – all very understanding and all that crap and were nice enough to tell me they’d have me back but not sure when that day will be (did pick up another ID card ... My third ...).  Rolled back into town for a café with the boyz – all of them seemed to have this strange idea that it was cold and everyone to a man was wearing girly tights – am sure my immunity will wear off by next year.  I’ve got an idea that working for a more internet savvy institution means I should be a bit more confidential about my toings and froings so I shall be.  Spent the evening in the company of two young ladies who were mostly tolerable, all things considering, at least until the third came in and all bets were off.  Events of the morning made me think that China’s controversial one child policy might actually be a good idea.  Can’t believe it’s taken me 19 years to see The Mission – that’s two (2!) Liam Neeson movies in three days – and you can’t complain about a Liam Neeson movie unless it’s directed by George Lucas.  Sage, Sax, Sage.

Tuesday, 12 June 2007

Have I Sold My Soul?

12 June – Well, they’ve got free fruit, free biscuits, coffee, tea and assorted things to assist you in surviving the day but they’ve also got a non-smoking policy, hideous bureaucracy and a rather sterile environment.  Spent most of the day reading documentation and trying to remember what it was I used to in an office.  Have been called a traitor already and was later rejected from the one thing that would have changed all my plans.  But life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans and life is what will carry on regardless.

Monday, 11 June 2007

Why Would You Want To Go To The Mountains?

9 and 10 and even 11 June – A weekend away, what a pleasant ideal.  Despite bad weather or perhaps because of it had a very quick journey to the Blue Mountains to our spartan cottage with no view.  Rained most of the day but did manage to get out to do some walking through the car parks.  Was disappointed by the quality of chosen DVDs – I don’t know how ‘White Noise’ and ‘Biloxi Blues’ made it on to my list but thankfully they’re now off it – did struggle with sketchy recording quality and more than once there was an extended synchronicity issue with the sound and picture but that’s what to be expected with this dangerous storage medium and it’s only going to get worse with Blu-Ray and HD-DVD when TPTB try to cram ten times the data on the same size disc.  Was pleasantly surprise with the lack of rain on Sunday morning but less so with the resulting drop in temperature.  Brunchfast was likewise somewhat lacking although was followed with a very pleasant walk down and around the walking tracks.  Not sure whether I should be pleased with my companion’s ability to keep up with me – being the boy and therefore the carrier of the backpack meant I had a bit of extra weight and it wasn’t necessarily a difficult walk but it was not so long ago when I should have exhausted my walking partner and maybe its a sign of certain days being past (albeit temporarily) that meant we were on somewhat equal footing.  Self heating can of coffee marked the entrance of another cyberpunk it of apparatus into the real world – shake, press a button and let the quicklime mix with water creating a warm and slightly nauseating brew that was reminiscent of a Vietnamese style café but only just.  
Later found out why the brunchfast conversation was slightly lacking – relationships are never easy and when they do break down (if you put anything on a long enough timeline the survival rate always hits zero) it’s never that pleasant – have to say, though, in this case, it was not something that was unexpected.  In any event, minus several million score for good timing.  
Got a little bit sozzled with special vintage “non hangover” champagne, which was pretty f**king good followed by movies I’d already seen.  Other events seemed to blur into each other – got thinking that people who are overly concerned about their own personal space should be more considerate about how they invade the space of others and that includes pushing into the aural element.  One should also be more thoughtful about going for an extended run when there’s things to do that night ... Like watching extra boring films that are supposed to be classics.  I need more dashes and dots.

Sunday, 10 June 2007

Are You Local?

7 June – Splat splat splattering all f**kin’ day but it doesn’t really matter to someone who lives a sedentary lifestyle, which is what I’ve seemed to adopt these past weeks.  Spent a lot of time being stood up, wandering the local video store for movies that I wasn’t allowed to watch, and faffing around with various web sites.  Was allowed out for a local photographic exhibition which was under populated and, truth be told, a little dull, but it’s always good to support your local community, even (especially?) if it’s Redfern.  

Thursday, 7 June 2007

One Last Hand ...

6 and 7 June – Various aspects of both good and bad news slightly lessened the oncoming ulcer that I feel might be germinating within my fragile body.  Life as a messenger is so less stressful.  Sheepishly showed my face in town and debated whether I should be paying $2 or $2.30 for a Palms coffee.  So far, I’m still paying $2 which makes me feel a little bit better about myself.  Saw the ARM Deputy (Junior?) Chair doing that thing she does so well apparently and later doing that thing I know she does well.  Heavens finally decided to smash down upon the parched city on Thursday morning and found myself suitably soaked on my way in for the latest bout of manipulation – recovered fairly well, at least well enough to play another hand in the latest game I’ve been playing.  The anxiety of not knowing what the immediate future is really starting to get to me but this thing, if it comes through (and it might), will change EVERYTHING.  Birthdays for 2 year olds don’t have to be frustrating.

Wednesday, 6 June 2007


6 June 2007 - My prediction for the upcoming election is that the Liberal Party will win with a sharply reduced majority but Maxine McKew will defeat John Howard, effectively ending his political career and leaving the Prime Minister’s job up for grabs.  The new PM will be Phillip Ruddock who will surprise all by defeating the presumed replacement, Peter Costello, in a short but damaging leadership struggle.

George W Bush - Then And Now

2001 - “You are either with us or you are with the terrorists”
2007 - “The people of the Czech Republic don't have to choose between being a friend of the United States or a friend with Russia.  You can be both. We don't believe in a zero-sum world.”
It may be about different issues but it’s certainly a different outlook on the world.  Can’t have it both ways, mate ...


"Gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages; the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage; neither our wisdom nor our learning; neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile."
Robert Kennedy (not sure if it’s THAT Robert Kennedy)


Stolen from the Heckler at SMH ... It seems I’m not the only one ...
My craving for butter just churns me up
Patricia Casaceli
June 5 2007
I'VE decided to launch a class action against butter manufacturers. Others before me have begun class actions against those who make tobacco and other addictive products. They unwittingly started their lifelong addictions to nicotine with a few puffs of a cigarette sometime in their teenage years. I began my addiction to butter at a very tender age. It began with my mother mashing vegies and melting a teaspoon of butter over them to entice me to eat them. And, whammo! A lifelong addiction was born. It started innocently enough - butter on toast, bread, scones and the like - but it progressed. Butter  and  peanut butter sandwiches, a little toast with my butter, and Easter became a disaster. Forget the chocoholics - what about the hot cross buns loaded with butter? Warm the bun, smother it with butter, let the butter melt in and spread on more. I've since discovered what my innocent butter addiction is doing to my life. None of these cheap (and not so cheap) imitation butters is allowed. No Meadow Muck or Pro-so-whats; it has to be 100 per cent certified salted butter. And what about potential long-term health problems? When I was three months old, no one told me about the health problems I would experience at the hands of a tub of butter. Now my body resembles a tub of butter, weight is slower to shift and my arteries are probably narrower than a dairy farmer's profit margin. So it's time to stand up and be heard on behalf of all butter addicts. Health warnings are mandatory on cigarette packets, telling us that tobacco may cause lung cancer, other health problems and even death. I propose that similar warnings be printed on tubs of butter. I know, a three-month-old baby can't read the health warnings on a tub of butter, but he or she can't read them on a carton of cigarettes either. You don't see mothers shoving cigarettes into the mouths of three-month-olds, but I'm sure they still put that little teaspoon of butter in with those mashed vegies to make them palatable, not realising the lifelong health problems this can lead to. Who's with me? Butter addicts of the world unite! We must fight this terrible affliction (but not too vigorously, in case those narrowing arteries give us grief) and come together in a class action, or at least some sort of community support group, against this delicious, mouth-watering condiment. Well, at the very least, toot a cow next time you drive past one, as they are the source of the problem. The dealer always is.

Tuesday, 5 June 2007

Has The Messenger Sold His Soul?

5 June – Oh, the humanity.  Phone calls, strategic visits to the hotspots, bike maintenance, meetings with friends and foes, steady lowering of expectations and a brief spurt of hope.  Such is the life of someone in a transitional phase.  Got a bunch of phone calls in the afternoon – all of them offering various blobbets of information about the “strong” market in the things that I’m trying to pretend I’m interested in and the last call of the business day was the one I was hoping for (???) ... ... ... I suppose I should be celebrating but right now relief is the real emotion I’m feeling.  And the only way to deal with feelings of relief on a Tuesday is to go to the movies.  The latest instalment in the turbo-zombie drama proved to be sufficiently entertaining for what it was.  I think the moral is that you shouldn’t let your children play outside.  
Did you know that 265,000 babies were born Australia in the past year?  That’s the most in 35 years!  I originally suspected that it might have just been my generation but I now realise that it is a plague upon this Earth.

Meet The F...

5 June – Morning chase up calls seemed essentially pointless and dispiriting but maybe that’s just because it’s Monday (although to tell the truth I’m pretty sure they were essentially pointless and dispiriting).  A bit more manipulation seemed to bring less relaxation than intended and also happened to spark the old bizarre daydream of the universe not properly fitting together and the cyclical body destruction and reformation thoughts that I seem to get when not sure about the way my world is going.  Evening brought on a new first – something which probably should have happened a while ago but didn’t for various reasons.  Individuals from different but not competing parts of my life crossed paths for the first time and all seemed to go well.  There are too many photos of me in various stages of development in the house kitchen but nobody can be blamed for that.

Monday, 4 June 2007

The Grey Warriors

This year’s Sydney Writer’s Festival has come at one of the very few times in my life when I am not actually committed to working and, as such, I’ve found myself available to go to quite a few of the events.  I’ve been suitable impressed that all of the events I’ve gone to see have been very well populated – less impressed by the fact that so many of them (especially the free ones) have been so well populated that I’ve been unable to see them because on no less than three occasions I’ve missed the cut off by about five people.  And this is by still turning up more than half an hour before the event has started.  Sydney is obviously a city that is in love with the written word and also one that’s so starved for celebrity that even a C-list celebrity like Richard E Grant (his own words!) can pack out an amphitheatre with paying fans.  What’s really struck me about the crowds that are filling up all the free events  though is that a very large group of them are grey haired retirees.  Is this because they’re the most literary minded demographic in Sydney?  Is there a retirement home hidden away in The Rocks that I’m not aware of?  Or is it just that they’re the group with the most time on their hands and they’re the only ones who can afford to spend hours queuing up for the freebies (a few of which have been catered with cheap wine and rubbery cubes of cheese)?  I was quite concerned that there no St Johns Ambulance volunteers patrolling the epic lines and I was just waiting for some of the frail old codgers to collapse as the minutes slowly crept on (and maybe I’d be able to take their place) but these grey warriors were determined to get their free entertainment and no winter sun or creaking joints where going to stop them.  I was also witness to some extremely brazen line pushing by the old dears - ‘Is this where we were, Gladys?’; ‘Oh no, I think we were a few people up but let’s not cause a fuss’; ‘’We were here an hour ago but we just nipped off for some lunch’ - who’s going to challenge that kind of defence?  You?  Certainly not me ...

Sunday, 3 June 2007

One Less Though ...

The Last Boy Scout

3 July – Was irrationally infuriated by my sleeping in too much but somehow managed to cool my over fuelled temper with an unwise caffeinated beverage and nicotine laced offering which pretty much knocked me out and back into bed where I could more calmly contemplate the relatively minor consequences of my (in)action.  Found a new café to boycott in North Sydney (all of the wait staff were sorely lacking in English language skills which is harmless enough in itself but it translated into ridiculously long waiting times and ill prepared foodstuffs, even a blueberry muffin [blueberry muffin in that there might have been a blueberry lurking in the stale cake surrounds] proved too difficult for them) and toured the very local area before heading over for a fire and marshmallows at OurKillarney™ - a fine afternoon although I suspect AJ will be stealing a square of turf from one of the neighbours to repair the backyard after his lacklustre cinder prevention system failed.  I thought you were supposed to burn holes in your parent’s yard when you were a child but I suspect we’re all children at heart.   

Pinched And Punched

1 and 2 June – Maybe it was a lack of breakfast and luncheon materials or maybe it was something in the “herbal” additions I ingested on the morning of the new month but I was feeling extremely jumpy all day which is really not the kind of sense of self that one wants on any day, let alone a day where certain meetings are to be had.  Managed to throw off some of the mental and physical nausea but did not get a good feeling about the conclusive meeting of the day.  My Corporatese is somewhat lacking due to a lack of exposure but I can bulls**t with the best of them and I was certainly challenged to bring those old skills to the fore on Friday afternoon.  There’s always a slight sense of foreboding when one comes into a potential change of environment which quickly evaporates once one realises the general level of intelligence in any working environment (I don’t want to sound too arrogant as certain individuals in my life have occasionally described me but it’s pretty much true).  After this and some logistical errors in a rendezvous (the mobile phone has done more to hinder physical meet ups than just about any other technical device in the history of the world I believe) finally found myself at the Sydney Theatre to see David Marr’s new book launch. Most pleased that one of the themes of his speech (he’s a very good speaker) seemed to be about the botched illegal screening of ‘Ken Park’ that Margaret Pommeranz organised several years ago – I was one of the many present at that attempted screening which was thwarted by Australia’s finest boys (and girls) in blue although I did manage to see it a few weeks later.  And, whilst I am against censorship of any kind if ever there was a film that did necessitate censorship then ‘Ken Park’ would be it.  That film, to me, seemed made just to push the boundaries of taste and to this day I’m yet to realise its artistic merit.  An emotional night at pub (Lord Nelson – notable for it being the site of my first legal drink and also my last real night out in Sydney before the Canadian trip [and a rather cool hook up at the time]) which resolved itself rather well but didn’t do much for a certain individual’s feeling of well being the next day (it’s called a hangover baby, you get one when you drink champagne and dance all night under electric candlelight).  Was very happy to find a new free hotspot in North Sydney on Saturday morning (not that I’m that desperate for them these days but it’s always good to find them).  Can’t really remember what took up the balance of the afternoon save to say that foods were consumed and time was utilised in a somewhat effective manner I think but eventually drove (drove???) to the city for a few more SWF events including seeing a rather stilted interview with Don Watson (a character I don’t know a hell of a lot about) but this was followed by a conversation with the absolutely brilliant Richard Dawkins (who was speaking with Robyn Williams), definitely disappointed by the fact that it was a video hook up (of which I expected) but he’s such a nice guy.  Sure, he’s a little bit arrogant but infinitely less so than the characters he pits himself against and the difference between them and him is that he can justify his position and they can’t.  Dinner at Wagamamas (blurgh) followed by going away drinks at the American Club for some character who I really just don’t get but I can’t be expected to understand everyone, can I?

Friday, 1 June 2007

A Small Sammich For A Small Man

31 May – Some powerfully painful manipulations were involved in the early part of the day plus some more conversations on the future that had been pushed back whenever I got the chance.  Was invited to another Sydney Writers Festival event but, predictably, by the time we arrived it was filled up again by the grey warriors filling up their empty days with things to do.  This was in spite of being told by the old biddy volunteer (the 2000 Olympics have a lot to answer for) that the queue ended with me.  In any event, they blasted the speakers from lecture outside so did get a reasonable presentation of it.  Very disappointed by my purchase at the Big Ass Sammich Store – my appetite only seemed to call for a small one and I don’t feel like a real man unless I’m eating a big one but, like Hummer, even when they go small they still go big but its just not the same.  Homework is more fun when its not yours but its still pretty pointless as are Mike Judge’s fillums on a speculative future where the world has been dumbed down (more so).  But what are you going to do?