Whisky Blues

Well, 3/4 of a bottle of Macallan 12 over two night gave me GORD.  And gave me the munchies at midnight.  And caused my exercise desire to flee.  If I am to continue pushing my BMI downward, then I will have to discontinue EtOH consumption.  At least until we visit the Rockpool restaurant during the F1 weekend.  My prediction for my Saturday morning weigh-in is:  moderate weight gain.

palace of aged beef - and pasta hopefully

Have just booked Park&Fly and now will think Rockpool thoughts.  We have previously eaten there quite late - 2100 - but Jen isn't likely to last that long, so I think 1900 with the crowds is our main option.  Closer to home: we will tonight hit a different Indian restaurant to make it two of those in three days.  You have to be excessive sometimes when Mum's away...  I also just realised how close my holidays are - woot!

Indian fast food

I have been watching the MotoGP testing and am pleased to see Mr Rossi performing like his old self.  Mr Marquez is currently home relaxing with a broken fibula - all's good, he'll be back. 

Sir Rossi

My Taff seems to be settling in to life on campus.  She has labeled her lectures (so far) as being great, fun, interesting...  Uni must have changed since I was a lad ;-) 

 

I AM listening.  What?

through the fog and ice

So tonight at the dinner table we discussed lots of stuff. Such as, what sound does a small deer make when thwacked with a bat? Taff didn't think is was Baambi! because it wasn't sufficiently onomatopoeic enough. I fell down on the challenge to produce reliable references to back up my audibular assertion after Lach discounted zebrawackerasus.co.nz as any authority at all regarding deer sonic experimentation.

Pea soup, as captured by Jen

A delightful winter fog accompanied a near freezing 15 deg C morning sunrise this week, managing to make our valley appear a bit like a Norwegian fjord. Only a little though as there was non one called Herbjørg Wassmo, Jan Erik Vold, Rolf Jacobsen, Olaf Bull, Jan Kjærstad, Georg Johannesen, Tarjei Vesaas, Sigurd Hoel, or Arnulf Øverland to be seen. Actually maybe there was a cow down there named Olaf, but that doesn't change anything. Oh, and I wouldn't have expected any of the mist-submerged livestock to remember what course I just finished.. Jeg tror det var et kurs arbeidet master - kunne ha vært.

leeches and jam

The world is full of blood-suckers. A less emotive form of the same statement may be: I can see a mosquito. I can't actually see one from where I am currently standing, but life is really just an exercise in logic if you stop to think about it.


On Monday I drank whiskey and soda and became drunk. On Tuesday I drank scotch and soda and I became drunk. On Wednesday I drank bourbon and soda and became drunk. I therefore conclude that soda makes one drunk. On Thursday morning I failed an alcohol breath test - thank goodness it was only the machine in the bar at the pub.


I have been reading about Silbury Hill near Avebury. Being the highest and largest prehistoric mound in Europe, Archaeologists calculate that Silbury Hill was built about 4750 years ago and that it took 18 million man-hours, or 500 men working 15 years to deposit and shape 248,000 cubic metres of earth and fill on top of a natural hill. The mound stands 40-metres high and covers about 5 acres. At least once for each of the last four centuries, explorers and treasure hunters have been sinking shafts and digging tunnels through the hill in order to reveal it's history and secrets. I'm gonna drag my mob there for a gander.

cute and fluffy

Life drifts aimlessly through the blackwater, fog of unknowing blankets the sun, and only the gentle swell reminds us we are alive. You may gaze into the depths for an eternity and see nothing but a the flash of a circling great white shark. You trail your fingers in the dark brine anyway and slumber to the caress of a box jellyfish. Awoken by the sound of shorebreak, water and land joined by the grinding of your keel onto the sand. It is difficult to stand after so long adrift, but the welcome of the stonefish and blue ringed octopus, the non-judgemental eyes of a saltwater crocodile and the pretty sparkle of the cone snail soon have you confidently striding up the beach. The sun still hides so you gather driftwood, shaking free the funnel-web and red-back spiders, and soon have light and warmth to share with the myriad scorpions, taipans, brown, tiger and death snakes. Life is good. Why would you live anywhere else but Australia?

Dive dive dive

I know it is a little sad but I have over the years found time to catch Iridium 'flares' just after sunset, and occasionally have even dragged the children out to watch the 2 or 3 seconds of up to mag -3 glare it's way across the sky. Now there is one less in that predictable constellation. Kosmos 2251 was launched in 1993, died some two years later, and some further 15 years of wearing a low earth orbit track managed to take out Iridium 33 in spectacular fashion. Or maybe it was the other way around. Up until this point satellites had always been ably protected by the laws of chance. Not any more

In other collision news: Angus Robertson, SNP Westminster leader, is asking for a public government statement:

"The Ministry of Defence needs to explain how it is possible for a submarine carrying weapons of mass destruction to collide with another submarine carrying weapons of mass destruction in the middle of the world’s second-largest ocean,” he said.

So HMS Vanguard and Le Triomphant, were as per normal routine, utilising passive sonar and probably anti-sonar techniques, and more importantly were sharing the view that the Atlantic ocean is so bloody big that the odds of colliding are... unthinkable.



(This is probably an urban (or marine) myth but:)

Transcript of the ACTUAL radio conversation of a US naval ship with Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland.

Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees the North to avoid a collision.

Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.

Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.

Americans: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN, THE SECOND LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS AND NUMEROUS SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT YOU CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES NORTH, I SAY AGAIN, THAT'S ONE FIVE DEGREES NORTH, OR COUNTER-MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP.

Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.

yule incident

Christmas Lights. Things of wonder and holiday cheer. Santa and his helpers with their bags of sweets and little buckets to collect gold coins. Then there is the mad idiot in the HSV V8 who runs down the sweaty bloke dressed in the traditional St Nick outfit. To be fair, Santa was in the middle of that intersection with nary a reindeer, ho ho ho, chimney or sleigh in sight. And there was a Bah! Humbug sign in Times New Roman Bold 700 font mounted on the house of darkness over the road which undoubtedly distracted the driver. I think Santa would have bought the farm anyway because the wombats had been undermining his favored spot on the road for weeks, and the deep pit complete with stakes and Clarence Valley brown snakes was almost complete. And the police who attended the scene weren't able to determine whether Santa had been struck by that lightning bolt just before or after the car hit him, and whether the lightning had in fact pre-ignited the dynamite. The crime scene was further obscured by the hundreds of children rushing to gather the sweets dispersed after those three sticks of dynamite in Santa's bag exploded. Amazingly no one else in the vicinity was injured by these aforementioned occurences, and even the elf up the gumtree with the ayekayfortyseven apparently missed everyone except the guy in the red costume. Several children were reported to be worried about still getting presents in the morning.


Merry Whatsaname.

Sic faciunt omnes

Well, the semester is over. I shall miss the books and the assignments. Still, it's only three months and I can start all over again. Northrend is hardly enough to compensate for this current void: even with Mr Litch, the Death Knights, the Borealian Tundra and the fly-fishing walrus men. Al was having a bookshelf purge and passed on a triology by Trudi Canavan entitled Black Magician. Due to the afflicition of vegetarianism, I'm sick again (didn't stop me working all week though) but have therefore just enough energy to read but not play WoW. Am partway through the second book (The Novice) - very enjoyable so far, and am hoping to grab some of her next series: Age of Five Gods.

Tomorrow is Andrew and Roslyn's wedding: I hope the constant savage precipitation of the last fortnight stays away, at least until they head indoors. Briswegia copped a face full earlier in the week with flash flooding occurring through SEQ right out onto the Darling Downs. Rocky Creek Dam was officially (last night) at 100.5% which is always nice to see. The drought of 2002/03 still feels very real, and even six years on whenever it starts to rain it brings on a sense of... something. Not unhappiness anyway. The same feeling as not being on call to the basic edifice.

World Events of Note

The world has been holding it's collective breath. There has been a very important demonstration of democracy on display for all nations, peoples, kindreds and tongues to witness. The results will be far reaching such that everyone on our planet will bob up and down on the ripples of this great nation's policies and ideals. You have guessed it: New Zealand is having a general election.



On to important news. The (probably only) Christmas present for the older children has battered the bank account. Called a Thumpstar 125 something, it has contained within it's horizontally aligned forward facing eighth litre single cylinder more than ten horses. It can allegedly reach speeds of 31 yards per second, and when washed after a hard day of environmental paddock vandalism will resemble a blue colour. The blurb says that it will carry 100kg, but doesn't go so far as to say that it will actually move under that load. A helmet, and petrol to run it on aren't included this year, maybe next Christmas.

peppermint century

It has been a gentle day. No work, no stress. No real news around here. Genna has changed her name to Jinglepop by unanimous consent with her sister. They are both as mad as a cut snake - eight o'clock at night is about the threshold for that. Taff has decided against using an egg-white based icing mix with her frosting set: raw eggs from this part of the world are less than trustworthy. Lach has skipped WoW for most of the week, and churned his way through Warlords Battlecry instead. Isobel had a brief adventure when Jennie locked her out on the back balcony accidently for ten minutes before dinner tonight: she objected to the notion that lighting a campfire and roasting a possum would have made the time past faster.


The madness and greed that is the stock market, can I play with madness?. Every one of them scrabbling for every cent, a quest for fire like unto the children of the damned, the price of failure, the artificial bursting bubble of global hardship. The hatred of the financial system is the root of all goodness, the wasted years of the evil that men do. What we need is a revolution. Or not. Whatever happens, the killers are in control. Blood brothers, it's two minutes to midnight. Power corrupts, and absolute power is just bad. Just run to the hills, it is the only sanctuary for our still life. Judas be my guide, we will see that face: the ghost of the navigator.

two billion and seven

The number of blogs dedicated to Olympic reflection. The Chinese government splurged several trillion money units on the opening ceremony, and the results were extra cool. I didn't actually see it, but was impressed by proxy. This extravaganza has forced the hand of the 2012 London people: everyone attending the games will be offered up to one cup of tea AND a scone. It is good to see that all the storm-crow warnings of air pollution, and it's potential deleterious effect upon the competing tourist, has come to naught. The massive flame atop the Bird's Nest has managed to continue burning despite the lack of healthy oxygen.

Other issues from the games:

Jamaicans and drugs? Secret reports indicate the the USA team are completely peeved to not have access to that same batch.

Chinese and birth certificates? The loss of baby teeth during difficult and complicated diving and gymnastic routines should not be counted as a deduction against their scores.

Australian male swimmers leave floaties at home: Federal government AIS budget cuts meant that Australian swimmers could only train in the water the last four years if they were missing a y chromosome.

Pointless sports: the increased speed and awesome skill of the synchronized swimmers nearly overcame the nationwide screams of anguish whenever they appeared on the TV. Close up slow motion replay of the walking events has showed that nearly 5% of competitors kept at least one foot in contact with the ground, at least some of the time. Mr Tallent, the dual aussie walking medalist made up for this by spewing at the finish line. The beach volleyball competition improved it's standing as a spectator sport by playing in the rain, thus adding a wet t-shirt aspect to it's originally intended bikini sand wrestling surfer dude image.

Armchair experts: my six year olds are getting really good at picking out the aussie flag. The rest of us can pick when a 10 meter three and a half reverse somersault in the pike position sights the water too early, comes up short, looses the feet and belly flops. Worth about sixes to sevens that one, except from the Bulgarian judge who gave it a nine because he thought he was at the whitewater kayaking.

Special guest from Middle-Earth for flame lighting ceremony at the Bird's Nest.

I would have watched more of the coverage on TV except that Ch7 spends more time chatting with celebrities, patting itself on the back, and telling you what is coming up AFTER the olympics, than actually showing sport. Same old drill as usual boss.

Ire fortiter quo nemo ante iit

In 1953 Johnny Stabler and other gang members of the Black Rebels Motorcycle Club drifted into Carbonville and ever after the Thunderbird 6T was a machine only for the wild ones of society. A little known fact is that the seventh member of the BRMC was a clever spanner named Leo Villa (aka the Prime Directive) - better known for his association with birds in the genus Sialia of the thrush family Turdidae. He can be seen behind Johnny in the photo below.

I ask myself why I am installing IE7. Just because it does tabbed browsing? Just so the computer will stop bugging me about it? Probably. I only use Mozilla anyway. Now that Bill Doors has quit as CEO of Softromic I bet that they will turn into a ruthless, unprincipled, monopolistic and tyrannical empire. Oh hang on - that already happened in 1992.

Sick and Tired

Sick as a chook, sinus, sneezing, abdo cramps, febrile. On-call - have refused to go in so far. They often infer that ultrasound isn't important, so no service for the weekend shouldn't matter. It's not as if I'm paid as a sonographer like anyone south of our area health service anyway, we just carry the responsibilty, the work related injuries, the on-call load, and the crap requests from medical officers. There are still days when I enjoy it but they are getting a long way apart. Upon reflection I think I have spent more than 11 years on call out of the last 15. Two exams next week to finish the radiography masters semester, 4 subjects down 8 to go. Next wednesday I can head back into Azeroth without study hanging over me - not that it has stopped me so far. Maybe I ought to take it more seriously seeing as I'm the only one paying for it - the others at work were given very quiet $12k scholarships. Is it any wonder I hate the bastards.

What were the sins of James E. Webb? Which CSM?

return under warranty

Twas an uneventful and assignmentless week marked by some significant resurections.

The first, of most interest to no.6, is the return of the Casino Beef Week. Apparently a sponsor has been found to finance the parade and clean up the cow crap afterwards. The local newspaper had a striking frontpage photo showing the mayor of Casino recieving the cheque for $13.67 from the manager of Bruce's Beaut Beef Jerky. Strangely, a lot of people who heard this news throughout the rest of the Northern Rivers Region commenced twitching uncontrollably.

The other (seven year cyclic) return is comet 17P/Holmes which until wednesday was hiding half a dozen degrees north of the Pleiades at about mag 12. It managed half a million times brightness increase in a matter of hours and now hovers under (from a southern hemisphere perspective) Perseus at around mag 3.

Couldn't sleep last night and found (and finally watched) 'Blink' on my HDD. Extra cool! Definitely one of my favourites.
A bit easier: you know the people but which car, what engine, what date?

Cool for Kimi. One point over the top three. I hear Schumi is coming back. Actually I just made that bit up. Hard luck for Lewis - but he isn't going anywhere but up in the future.

rabbits

El Bravo has extracted a small mammal in the family Leporidae of the order Lagomorpha from a medieval torture device hat. As close as possible to the stage as one can get and still be sitting. These things are important when one is firmly entrenched in middle age with its associated hearing and vision problems. Upon reflection, the hearing problem bit is probably irrelevant. Between now and then I have two assignments, two exams, sixteen WoW levels, and 39 continuing professional development ultrasound points to overcome. Its OK though, I have my life prioritized - its off to Azeroth I go.
Found the link to SimpsonizeMe on a cool but disturbed blog that I have been frequenting for half a decade or so. The Real Live Preacher dude lives in the real world - I'm not sure I do. The resulting pic (with a little tweaking) is about what number six would expect. At least I don't look like Mo.

warmth

Dash, summer is just around the corner. It never quite sneaks up on you here; it just arrives one morning and stays for a few seasons. We decided awhile ago that the air conditioning would stay off until mid spring so as to make that disc thingy in the powerbox spin a few less revolutions. But if one of the kids used their initiative and turned it on without asking then it might take a few hours for Jen or I to notice, maybe longer. Go Casey. Hurrah for F1 and the spy scandal, its a joke: may watch next year, maybe not.
Had another synchronicity moment with Bravus re: IM ticketing and whether to join the IMOFC so as to avoid an intercapitalar trip. The trouble with going to the Syndey or Melbum venue neighborhoods is actually having to be there when you arrive and deal with the public transport. Briswegia in comparison is both cool and fruity.

drizzle

The drizzle continues to drizzle. Our local water supply dam has risen 10% in the last fortnite to 65%. These days it supplies not just Lismore and it's villages, but also Byron Gay, Ballina, Alstonville, Kyogle and the rest of the Richmond valley. Nimbin isn't counted as their water is mixed 50/50 with oil of hashish, and Casino likewise isn't counted as nobody lives there since they cancelled beef week. It's now about lunchtime, with the family not back from church and myself having not been called back for ultrascounge so far today. Managed to make the kitchen produce sushi, a couple of vegetable pies and a pot of cob corn. All vegan except for the occasional ant driven in by the rain.
Saw this page buried deep somewhere in the Nasa site and had an instant mind block as to the reason for the differing lunar impact angles (from the horizontal) of the Saturn upper stage and the LMs. I think I have it sorted now. Standing on the moon and seeing Cernan's SIVB smack it the ground nearby at 2.55 km/s (over 9000 km/hr) would be cool, but seeing the golden LM - a work of art - coming in at 6000 km/hr only 5deg off a flat trajectory... make you cry. I don't think it would skip like a stone, even in 1/6th G; I reckon it would decompile into it's component parts in a great long smear.

illusions

The lives of everyone else we know are just illusion. An individual point of view is a singularity, a destination unachievable for any other life, an imagined position. What is hellfire and brimstone for one, is another's 150k btu gas BBQ, and a reckless drunken rampage in a stolen Abrams battle tank through suburbia for one is two lumps of sugar in a cup of tea for another. Could Pavarotti do death metal grunting on his deathbed? Could Idi Amen have been retrained as a social worker? It is a truism that any make or model of car will look the same colour after six and a half years of partial burial in a lava flow. Maybe even a Delorean. Get back.
The color of square A is the same colour as square B. Truly.

The hands of a clock never stop moving. The battery or the winding key enable us to see where the hands should be, but without these and without sight, the hands continue to spin. Faster and faster, it's all about catch up. The universe spins about the sidereal rose red apple held firmly in the hands of the small child solid in it's world of smocked collars and yellow dogs named spot. The beach is too cold unless you are inside that BBQ.