Kenneth Charles' LJ, please keep it anonymous, mention no names!

LJ update!

2008-01-29T07:31:00Z

For those of you worried about these sorts of things; I get back in Australia on the 17th of February, though I:ll be busy with jetlag and packing and stuff for a few days!

Since Bulgaria, shot down to Turkey, cruised there for a week, then to Malaysia and Vietnam for another week. Got some awesome clothes made in Vietnam, that was very warm indeed! Now I:m in Japan having all sorts of adventures. The word is `culture bitch-slapped`, but I:m coping!
Going to Sapporo in about a week for an ice festival, that will hopefully　make this toe crunching cold worthwhile!
2008 holds great promise!

Good to be alive!

2008-01-10T15:25:15Z

Well since last time I've gallivanted hither and thither, but this is the drama of today:
Went skiing at Vitosha mountain just south of Sofia! Getting there was a minor challenge - missed a bus and waited for 40 minutes in the freezing cold. Got there, took a massive cable car up the mountain (only slightly rusty) and eventually managed to hire some maybe dodgy gear. Took off and burnt up the slopes. Legs got cold (cause I was only wearing jeans and thermals) but fortunately I didn't fall!
Then comes the drama; I accidently skied off-piste and got utterly lost. Attempts to walk out were thwarted by waist deep snow. A bit hairy. Eventually I found my way out (by walking crab fashion on skis for about 50 vertical metres and shouting a bit). Spoke to some Russian girl and found I still had enough time for 2 ski runs, so I did the only two runs on the mountain I hadn't done yet. Pictures will be posted somewhere eventually, but the steeper parts were in shadow, and were pleasantly challenging.
On the bus on the way back I spoke to two groups of people; a Russian woman and Bulgarian woman, who were travelling. The Russian was studying media and coms at St Petersburg. The other group was a Swiss software engineer and a Bulgarian recently graduated GP, whose common language(?) was English, or a version thereof. They had met when he was cycling through Bulgaria on his way from Lucerne to Dubai.
I've given up on asking people why they are in Eastern Europe - it is more than obvious that we are all crazy!

Opera heaven (almost)

2007-12-24T23:37:22Z

In Washington DC I saw the Kirev Opera doing Otello, which was good (except they'd lost some of their set coming across from St Petersburg, I think).
In New York I saw Un Ballo in Maschera at the Met, with Hvorostovsky singing the part of Renato, amongst other leading lights. It was more than good. 15 minute standing ovation at the end, and it was the season premiere!
Sadly the next day I was too busy screaming around NY to make it to an Anna Netrebko meet/book sign do at the met, which broke my little heart. Waaahhhh!
But still not bad. I look forward to catching some opera in France!

Maine

2007-12-17T16:17:00Z

It snowed a few times when we were in Maine. I made a Quinzhee and helped siblings build an igloo. Both were a little too small to be used, sadly. Lots of ice and snow - horrible!
Lots of lovely lovely food. Not so horrible.

US

2007-12-11T13:58:52Z

Yesterday the family and I headed from Grand Rapids to Lake Michigan, to see what was happening!
We tobogganed down tall dunes (30m ish) covered in a thin layer of snow. I tried to skim some ice across the as yet unfrozen lake, but didn't quite succeed.
There have been a few ice storms, the main effect of which is messing up our flights. Hopefully no major delays will eventuate.
Nothing wildly adventurous has occurred yet - such is life.
4 days ago I was in San Francisco - I visited Berkeley and Stanford, both interesting unis. Unfortunately, no earthquakes took place!

Travel to US, UK, Europe, Near East, and Far East!

2007-12-04T08:02:57Z

Middle east some other day.
Leaving very very soon - updates will be posted here.
For those who are interested, I'm travelling with less than 7kg of luggage, not including the clothes I'm wearing, plus camera etc - which comes to about 4kg (heavy shoes too).
This is a new challenge, I think I'll survive though!
Happy holidays, merry christmas, new year, and so on!

Love dream

2007-08-26T11:05:02Z

An earlier prototype of a sci-fi story. I gave up on this sketch and register as I found the mood a little dark. Then again the sci-fi writer must remember than even in the future, stupidity hasn't been cured...

Love dream

John stirred in his sleep. Slowly the images returned to him.

Constant whir and hum of indestructible machinery, an ever present sensation of great speed, constant progress.

He awoke, clambered out of his bunk, groped for a sachet of dark powder, managed to tear it into a perfunctorily clean mug and stumbled toward the distant samovar. The trip took him past roughly 50 pairs of somnolent feet, feet of all sizes, shapes, clothing. One pair, size 15 at least, calouses like boot leather. Faintly aromatic. Another pair, mismatched – perhaps a matching mismatched pair lurked under the darkened blankets?

He stared from the window, nothing but inky blackness stared back from the void. The mug filled he returned to his place, and waited for the steaming brew to cool. More semi-random groping, and a thin bar of black chocolate, distilled who knows where, continued its piecemeal continuous path toward oblivion. The magic chemicals within began a game of weightless ping pong within his tired synapses. 2.6 seconds later the sensation hit like the kick of a mule – like an infusion of tetra-ethyl-lead, not dissimilar to the liquid he now sipped gingerly with already scalded lips and tongue, his body was purring with maximum efficiency.

Looking around his long suffering mouth tried to get around the unfamiliar symbols plastering many surfaces, beyond comprehension. Before long the effect wore off, the drowsyness kicked back in, and John was back to a sleep so bizarre in vision it seemed scarcely different to waking.

Some time later John had just closed a deal, leaving him with enough capital to get off world. Ten hours previously he had assembled his hand made glider Khan for one last voyage. Build from slender fibres synthesized from carbon feed stock the vessel, while powered, bore more resemblance to the gliders of old-earth, though grossly exaggerated in wingspan to compensate for the thin atmosphere found on his home world. Even then flight was near impossible in all but the warmest months when additional carbon dioxide sublimated, thickening the atmosphere by a power of two.

Like all flights on the small and almost deserted world, Khan had soared quickly and directly to its destination, its next owner. John had packed his few belongings with him, left his farming commune to their dust, that dust which was now closed over the faces of his young family, gone before it ever began.

The transaction was straight forward and matter-of-fact. Only after it was closed did John realize that Khan was the last relic of his previous decade long odyssey and attempt to make a new life.

Carthage – the largest settlement on Mars. So many settlers some didn’t know others. A semi-permanent source of water. A half-built space elevator. A stable population. Good riddance.

The surface craft was old-fashioned, to say the least. Like something out of 1930s science fiction it landed with a blast of carcinogenic dust. Russian owned, Russian built, Russian operated. It’s only fair that the only country that didn’t pull out of the settlement investment should have a monopoly on space transport. Only in this case it wasn’t contested – no-one else wanted it.

Documents were checked and double checked. The crew spoke a painful amount of English, and only the faint memory of a distant Earth and many languages spoken prevented an utter communication breakdown. He saw computer equipment, animals, and medical supplies being unloaded. Leaving the surface were the few people with organs of mortgagable quality. Interplanetary law insisted that they had to be yours.

John was one of six items of live cargo leaving the surface. Also leaving the surface were a few supplies for the orbital colonies – stuff that noone else could want. Ever since the development of long haul automatons, Mars’ market dominance in iron and other mineral export had diminished as it cost far less to hunt asteroids. Interplanetary law had, however, failed to protect intellectual property of the nanotube fabrication techniques pioneered by John in the early days of the colony. Until recently, like everyone else was now, he had been a subsistence farmer, eking out permaculture in ever degrading bio-domes while the industries designed to maintain and support agriculture never achieved critical mass.

Still, the young children smiled without reserve, and where there is life, there is hope. John was pleased to see that two of his companions were children traveling with their father. The other two were young adults, a man and a woman, their tall stature betraying a Martian origin and upbringing. Of the six, John was the eldest, and he sensed the other five already knew he had bought his ticket outright. If they knew at what personal cost, John thought, then perhaps they’d look less green whenever they thought of the interest they already owed on their loan.

What is there to do on a long journey? John slept with the uneasy knowledge that he was surrounded on all sides by the freezing and inhospitable desert of empty space. John learnt Russian, much more with each succeeding day. John wrote, played chess, composed music, meditated, consumed almost illegal quantities of chocolate. John spent a lot of time asleep. During sleep the impossible phantoms of a distant home long ago came back, tantalizingly close. Some were merely sexually gratifying. Others were emotionally draining, inspiring, empowering. So far from anywhere, so cut off, so alone.

She looked at him with that somewhat dangerous smile he felt fading at the edges of his memory. Who was she? Panicking in momentary lucidity, even her name had drifted irrevocably beyond reach. She looked at him and smiled again. A moments misdirection and pounce, her claws have shredded a pillow to pieces and quite failed in their initial intention of mere pillow fighting. Yet she says nothing – and that was definitely unlike her, in life at any rate.

John shifted in his sleep again and the phantom faded, and what was momentarily so close and within reach once again receded to the edge of his whirling semi-conscious self, soon to flip into the abyss of forgotten thoughts, leaving only the bitter-sweet impression of its passing and a lingering question mark taunting his inability to understand its origin, or even fully recall the state of mind that had led to such passions and desire.

The interplanetary ship was quite unlike the landing craft. Much larger, it operated on a constant cycle from one planet to another, taking many years to complete a circuit of the inner solar system. John was booked to low-earth-orbit, where he hoped to glimpse the distant landforms of his youth, and not of today.

Life on Mars, however strenuous, had removed any chance of return to Earth, due to bone decalcification.

John took his knapsack containing ID, a personal computer, and possibly a change of clothes, and entered immigration on the orbiting space station. Due to the length of the space flight quarantine was unnecessary, and immigration between space colonies was nothing more than a formality. With such a small human space presence, its only purpose was to verify movements from place to place.

John moved to the arrival lounge, and slowly readjusted to more familiar surroundings. He took what appeared to be a croissant from a table and munched slowly, memories of endless hot water snacks both fading and reappearing, one from one time, one from another.

Through the window he could see a transport from Earth approaching. Each planet had its own specialized shuttles suited to their gravity and atmosphere. The other luxury of life in low-Earth-orbit was internet – the internet of more than a few thousand borderline starving neopeasants scraping out an existence. John was pleased to see his vintage hand- held personal computer still functioned on the system – the beauty of web based flexibility.

Most people, he realised, at least in this habitat, had bionic computers installed underneath their skin. Recharged during sleep, they interfaced directly through active corneal implants and other senses, joined by a near invisible network of subcutaneous wires. It also gradually dawned on him that he held perhaps the last all electronic computer anywhere near Earth – optical systems had been the standard for over a decade, but were yet to make it anywhere near the outer settlements.

He finished the croissant and opted to stretch his legs. An airlock system and a moving walkway brought him to the edge of a yawning chasm – the station. A perfect cylinder, almost a kilometer across. Windows to let in natural light, louvers to shut them.

The sense of scale dawned slowly dawned on him. A decade of cramped rabbit warrens and domes in which one only ever looked down, as if to will the semi-sterile seeds to germinate, had not quite removed memories of old Earth with boundless heavens above. Boundless hope, boundless opportunity.

Life on Mars

The difference in wealth here was obvious. No-one lived in a habitat like this for free. He found it almost oppressive that so few could have so much, in such an alien environment. He wondered about the surface of Earth once more, couldn’t help not. It didn’t help. He returned to the landing deck and immediately hitched a lift to the moon. As the form of Australia slowly swung into view behind him he felt a sudden push of acceleration and shot off towards the moon.

Arthur introduced himself, sitting next to John.
“They call me Art, mate.”
“Pleased to meet you Art – how are you?”
”Not bad. I can see you just got off that long haul from Mars though. Earthling originally, though. Where from?”
”Oh, here and there. It’s not so important anymore – I left years before the Elblok catastrophe – not that it didn’t affect me.”
“No, it affected everyone. I managed to stow into an aerostat and reach the upper atmosphere. My family wasn’t so lucky. You know what it’s like now?”
“No, we only get approved information in our database – and the Contra Band is a very slow link – 55 minutes one way. Fill me in.”
“Right, after the impetus was lost – and the colonies failed to achieve economic breakeven in the allotted time, support for the Diaspora faltered. It eventually led to war, though everyone would prefer that Elblok was released by accident. Needless to say most people died. They say things aren’t so bad on the surface now, the survivors certainly have plenty of room. But going there is a one way trip, even if you survive the landing. Everyone else, the non immunes, live in aerostats which stay as high as possible in the atmosphere. Makes for bad weather and a cold climate, but it beats dying. An economic truce was reached between the moon colonies, who needed food, and the aerostat communities, who needed tritium to fuel their reactors, and couldn’t get it from the sea anymore. It’s more or less stable now. I don’t imagine you’ll be going back there in a hurry though, after more than a decade in weightless-ville.”
“Yes, you are right. That clears up a lot. I’m surprised you’d talk about it…”
“Don’t be – in case you were going to ask, I’m going to the Moon for business and pleasure, what about you?”
“I don’t know. I left everything I had on Earth, and everything else on Mars. See if I can find a place to go now.”
“I dare say you’ll find the Moon frustratingly hospitable. There are third generation Lunas there now, but about 80% of them are female. For some reason, most of the children born on the moon are girls. Needless to say they’re mostly uninterested in blokes, especially ones of your vintage… no offence meant…”
“None taken – my days of youthful excess are long gone.”

Serendipitous wetness

2007-08-24T14:24:30Z

Today I ended up with about a km between me and home, with a lot of rain falling, and not going away. In the end I tucked my books under my jumper, did up the zip all the way and walked.
Fortunately my hair repels water, and the jumper was relatively water-resistant, and it was sweet. I haven't walked so happily in rain for a long time. I should do it more often. Every now and then at the appropriate early hours of the morning a streak around the place in heavy rain is a cold and somewhat enervating experience, but this time it was more relaxed, and the lights all reflected on the ground and on all the rain falling.
I was wet, and I didn't care. Interesting...

Distilling Instinct

2007-07-24T13:18:20Z

Distilling Instinct

Pilgrim

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus…

I ran the once famous line through my head once more and regretted that I had not brought my own book of his poetry. The trip had been a long one, more than one thing had gone missing.

Most people do not know what a book is, do not even know how to remember one. I will have to do better than that – it was no quick trip to get here.

Through the window Earth looms from below. While as long as anyone can remember it has been mostly barren, rocky yellow colour, it must not have always been so. One cannot imagine life arising there as it does now.

I knew where to go, and before long had landed on an area of the broad, spherical desert once perhaps identified with the word Italy, though since no-one knew when Earth was last inhabited, it must have been at least thousands of years ago.

I guided the archaic transport across the pitted landscape, its ebb and flow telling an ancient story of the tides and pull of history. I knew well before I left that any trace of previous human occupation was long gone, vanished along with place names, memories, people, and whatever else might have existed.

Before long I had reached the place, and set down on a small rise with a view in most directions. I know that there was no tectonic activity, no satellites, nothing save only a place in space.

Soles occidere et redire possunt…

At what time the ancients may have called lunch I left the capsule and walked onto the dusty plain, in all likelihood the first person to do so in thousands of years. A broad fiery red sun loomed overhead, obliterating all shadow save only nearer to the ground. Why here?

I look out across the plain, worn apologies on the horizon which may once have been ‘alps’, dust ahead. O Sirmio, did I never realize I would return to find you barren and loveless?

With a considerate eye one can read the history of a place, from storms, footprints, waves lapping a shore with enough persistence to wear it entirely away. Encroaching ice-sheets grind and scour. Volcanoes turn the first clod, and the last. Meteors blaze a fiery trail. Ever present wind circulates a constant stream of dust, which even now probably bears the last survivors of a doomed experiment.

Life, Archea, locked in small pores in dust, hydrous salt as the oceans steam, bubble and boil to nothing. As the world’s surface is run and turned, turned and run again.

Once, perhaps, a human man stood on this spot and breathed

Da mi basia mille…

Or turned, distraught, and fled.

Benacus is dried. Sirmio is no more. Lydian waves no longer cackle, a mere whisper of wind tickles the senses and, no longer bearing the wings of a flirtatious sparrow, departs to circle the Earth once more.

Thus a wanderer cannot wander forever.

Some time later with the sun still overhead I returned to the pod and left the surface, this time for the last time.

Random walk

2007-06-23T12:50:45Z

Yeah. Exams, ever encroaching ennui, etc etc.
Thought what the hell, put on my walking shoes, checked the map, and headed off. 9kms later at Bondi Beach. Damage - right ankle and nail. Have to work on my pacing, loosen shoes slightly. I've become much softer after a semester of sedentary study. Or something like that.

Howards plan to penalise the very poorest people of Australia seems like the perfect punitive approach.

I rather think that like increasing the penalty for stupid driving or gang rapes, you'll just increase fine revenue rather than decreasing the actual cause. Most people who are dependent on alcohol aren't by choice. That's why it's an addiction. Social problems and abuse go hand in hand with a fractured community. The obvious answer is to ban the use of alcohol and other luxury mind numbing drugs. Self sozzlement is a privalege, not a right. Above all, public welfare money should be used to prevent harm, not prolong it. Alcohol causes only harm (albeit temporarily pleasant harm in one extreme).
How hard is it to either 1) ban the sale of alcohol outright to welfare dependent communities. Yes, it's not fair. But there has to be some reason why it's better to get a job. And yes, people will make moonshine, but at least they'll still have money to spend on food, or at another extreme 2) institutionalise the provision of welfare entirely. While a social safety net is a wonderful idea in principle, there is no reason why the government should assume that people who are unable to look after themselves in the prevailing society (ie western values) or even keep it together in another community (be that aboriginal or alternative hippie types) will have all their problems fixed by throwing money at them.
Yes, our society's dominant thrust is the accumulation of material wealth. It's certainly not the only path to happiness, success, or fulfillment. Indulgent and destructive binges and substance abuse are hardly viable approaches either.
Australia and western culture in general faces a problem of alcohol abuse, the so-called binge drinking culture. The long term health effects wont be felt for decades, but noone it seems has any idea what is a safe or acceptable ammount to drink, let alone how to interact in a social sense without alcohol. I'm all for a little social lubricant to get things going - afterall, most people don't have the patience to learn how to be hypo the hard way, but the median is so far from the mark it's preposterous.
*climbs off soap box*
So what's the solution? What's the key issue at hand? I think the key issue is that a hedonistic, consumerist, greed centred culture fundamentally undermines natural spirituality, which I've ranted on at length elsewhere. Without natural spirituality to provide a sense of security and understanding in the world, which is still as big and as scary a place as it was to our ancestors thousands of years ago (at least once you step out of the picture perfect man-made environment!), most people find themselves in free fall, fundamentally insecure, emotionally confused, spiritually bankrupt, and so on. So far removed from who they might have been in any other age that they have no real idea how to build a sense of self, no concept of self knowledge, no hope. Sucked in. Alcohol is by no means the only way of escape, but it is the most common, and the most socially acceptable one.
Aboriginal communities are hardest hit - the doubled edged sword of both a genetic and cultural lack of resistance and tollerance to western ideals and western alcohol. On the one hand they are cut off very suddenly from their traditional roots and ways of life, whether or not aspects of them are acceptable to modern legal practise. On the other hand they have a free 'lifeline' of endless alcohol that they for the most part lack the evolved tollerance to - and are thus hit the hardest by the impacts of dependency and addiction.
Clearly there is a problem - and children are the victims. But cutting off welfare payments will further punish those most in need of assistance, and as for how it will help the children - I have no idea. It's not like a slap on the wrist will solve substance addiction - alcohol dependence affects many in life, from all levels of the socio economic strata. Just because politicians can afford their drugs because their state provided welfare is somewhat more generous than anyone elses, doesn't mean they, their spouses and children are any less affected by alcohol addiction.
Would you dock half of Kim Beazley's salary because his children were teased about their fathers physique? I think not! Would docking half of Beazley's salary change the situation - probably not. Lets not pick on Kim anymore - take Mark Latham - a good friend of the ol' bottle for most of his life. It's had deleterious effects on many around him - think cabbies, book sellers, the labour party.
Alcohol dependence is a deeper problem than simply recalcitrance on the part of the drinkers, and will require more than painful financial punishments to remedy the situation, and afford children a better chance.

Hiking

2007-05-13T13:23:22Z

An exciting weekend!
Four friends and I met at my place, the last arriving just in time to distribute food and so on, then quick-march to the station, arriving with about 20 seconds to spare, for a train that leaves once every hour!
Took the train to Cronulla, and the ferry across to Bundeena, and walked to Little Marley. There we saw a few roos, a few deer, etc etc. Prepared for the night.
For dinner we ate pasta, some funny looking dampa, and chocolate! Spent about 4 hours attempting to sing 'no no nora', then retired to sleep.
I was awoken by someone rocking my hammock, with my beannie down over my eyes. We had a cold breakfast, cleaned up and decided to head south to Otford. Pausing here and there, we saw a BIG manta ray in the ocean from the cliff-top. Gambolled in a waterfall, dodged falling rocks, negotiated cliffs, and had lunch at the 'figure 8 pool'. Climbed up the waterfall (eventually) and walked out through the Palm Jungle, seeing a Lyre Bird on the way. We must have been close to the next because it was very loquatious and close for some time. Beautiful creature.
*Just* made the train back, everyone was very very very very very tired!
Got back home, had a fight with the washing machine, and will with any luck go to sleep soon!
Good times, good singing, good fun!

Liability claims

2007-04-29T06:24:35Z

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,21636033-421,00.html?from=public_rss
When tragedy strikes, it is invariably unexpected, almost always accidental.
As a former student who had the privilege of an education at the Glengarry Campus, I cannot emphasise strongly enough the positive effect it had on almost all its participants.
The key issue here is danger and learning to deal with it.
In the modern world, the most dangerous things most people do are drink excessively, and drive cars (especially in combination).
Is it morally right for a school, the primary source of education for children, to eschew contraversial or risky educational procedures on the basis of financial liability?
I would put propose that the Glengarry Campus has successfully produced nearly three thousand young men with survival skills, balance, mental maturity, personal health and fitness, appreciation of non-computer based recreation, etc etc, that the rest of the western world can only envy.
On a personal note throughout my many adventures I would have died many times over had it not been for the experience gained through the Glengarry system. I can directly attribute my survival on dozens of occasions (many of which would have occured irrespective of whether I had attended Glengarry or not) to lessons learnt in the much more controlled, much safer environment of Glengarry. Education concerning risk calculation etc is as comprehensive as it could be. The fundamental problem here is that young men are prone to bravado and disobeying instructions. But this is not a problem unique to Glengarry. On the contrary, while at Glengarry, children have no access to the excesses of alcohol and drugs so common in our age, having only a healthy diet of exercise, team building, mateship, etc etc.
I am sure there are many graduates of the Glengarry system who have deliberately never set foot in a forest since they left, but lessons learnt there aren't relevent only to survival in the bush. I am equally sure there are many who have continued the safe practises learnt there without serious problems throughout their adult lives, and who no doubt are still living today, either through remission of dangerous teenage health issues (like obesity), or direct challenging situations.
Recently a number of bushwalkers, some school age, have tragically perished in the national parks surrounding Sydney. From the news analysis, one common theme of all these incidents was a lack of prior preparation or observance of basic safety rules. I would posit that had these people had the benefit of Glengarry, or even something like Outward Bound, they would not have died.
In addition to deaths, comprehensive outdoor experience and training also prevents injuries to the people themselves and whoever they happen to be with, be it in a regular outdoor setting or some sort of emergency, like a ship wreck or whatever. This is the same philosophy that is behind the outward program, which was set up in 1941 initially to give people maritime survival skills. From memory they found that survivors of shipwrecks on rafts were usually the old buggers who'd lived through the 1st world war, and had some idea of personal endurance and mental toughness, not the younger, fitter, stronger, but mentally and technically unprepared people.
The details of the Nathan Chaina case aside, it seems the system is set up to allow individuals and corporations to sue educational institutions (traditionally known for their lack of funds...) for UNLIMITED sums of money. I think this is a reflection of an overly litigious society - and it will not make its citizens safer. For every outdoor experience shut down due to excessive insurance costs or whatever, thousands of people are going into an uncertain future lacking the survival skills that every other member of the human race has always had. Our nomadic ancestors, however recent they were, knew more at the age of five about finding water, not getting lost, avoiding snakes, etc etc than most people now know at any age. And until the entire world is concreted over, it is not unreasonable to expect people to have some idea!
The other issue here is the concern of value of human beings. In this case because the victim's family owned a large company, which has since lost profit, the school is supposedly liable for sums of money beyond any institutions ability to pay. If however, another student at the school had died instead, or whose health been otherwise compromised, whose family business was small or nonexistent, then the school would be liable for payments of 'wrongful death' or health payments, which would likely not exceed a million dollars, which is still a lot of money.
The key issue here is linking the loss of a life by a third party to financial loss of an incorporated body. Is it ethically right to suppose that an outdoor education operator could choose to deny children of financially strong backgrounds access to education, or conversely, only allow children whose parents lacked the legal or financial clout to inflict large damages claims.
Some would say our society is indirectly responsible for activity of this kind through exploitation of child labour in the third world, and through pharmaceutical testing in third world countries which lack the regulations and basic ethical standards (such as informed consent) that are found in our system. However such blatant discrimination could surely not be upheld within our own shores, under the same Australian legal umbrella.
Finally, I do not deny that tragic, accidental death or injury may come with blame due to faulty decisions or negligent action - that is not for me to decide. I would merely propose that the thrust of the legal system come down on the side of sanity, of fairness and egality, and of the greater good.

Twins

2007-04-28T13:41:11Z

Firstly, today I bought a CD of Piano Transcriptions by Arcadi Volodos, recorded almost 12 years ago. He's a lot better now, but they're pretty good. To the point. It was put in a brown paper bag and tied shut - no doubt to protect the general public. On top of that I was wearing my trusty raincoat due to there being rain. So the picture is me, in dodgy raincoat, with brown paper package. SUSS.

Secondly, why are there so few women in Physics? All the women who are in physics have more combined awesomeness than all the guys, but this does NOT address the central issue. Still I have no answer for this one.

Why do people wear make-up?

2007-04-15T13:56:46Z

Don't get me wrong, make-up has many good uses, and I've used it myself many times in various stage shows and so on (where subtlety is not the point...), but I've never understood why people, young people especially, wear it.
The standard line is 'enhance natural beauty', which translates roughly as industry creating insecurity then peddling the solution, and they're certainly not the only ones - why do people wear 'modest clothing', or swimmers at all (aside from sun protection). Vis. CNNNN's "Esteem, because you need it." "My hair was flat, letting my family down!"
What seemed obvious to me is that perhaps if you're an absolute genius at makeup, and the guys (in general) the women are trying to impress don't look too closely, it may accentuate features, resulting in a net beauty increase of perhaps a few percent, nothing more. But infatuation and obsession, interest and love are not made of increases of a few percent.
Personally, a sparkling wit, clear intelligence, being articulate, talent (musical or otherwise), confidence, and common interests are much more important in generating attraction and interest. By several orders of magnitude. To me and my reasonably good eyes all visible make-up is obvious, and makes me wonder what they're hiding, and all desperately subtle makeup seems utterly pointless, kinda like painting a portrait over a photograph.
Add to that make-up's expense, impracticality with physical activity, time taken in application, and 'blanking', and I wonder why anyone bothers (in every day life).
What is 'blanking'? The human face is a marvellously expressive organ, not just through physical movement, but also through colour, a true window on the emotions. Not only does make-up (and botox) screw with that, it also sets it all the same, as though you've got a broken record constantly sticking to the same tracks. The current ideal in make-up being a look perhaps only achieved really in moments of extreme arousal (strong colours, etc), and it's no wonder that guys rarely get the hint, or seem like complete emotional blockheads. It's like blinding someone then wondering why they don't duck when you slap them. The senses work best in synthesis!
Recent research indicates 11 or 12 distinct layers of the retina, all of which process the raw data slightly differently allowing colour and many other aspects of sight to more completely describe the world around. No doubt all of these layers depend on subtle visual cues, and it is not a big extension to say that open empathy may be triggered subconsciously by these - which are then short-circuited by visual obfuscation!
A blank wall is never really all that expressive!
Before the age of 30 most people are more or less as attractive as they will ever be. If that is still not good enough for them or society, we should question that, rather than have unrealistic expectations. Throughout my adolescence I was afflicted/blessed by not insubstantial acne - perhaps this distraction was just enough to tune me into the value of people beyond 'face value'. This then becomes a question of honesty - not to others, that is simple, but rather to yourself, the easiest person of all to fool!
Another point of that is character. A recent article in the Sydney Morning Herald pointed to Angelina Jolie as the 'ideal' beauty. Personal preference aside (which would find differently) imagine if you will a world populated solely by Ange's (and for balance, Brad Pitts). As Alain de Botton elaborates in 'status anxiety', the biggest factor in this is not disparity, but similarity. It's safe to say that men and women today are the healthiest, best looking in the history of the world, yet never has cosmetic surgery and other extreme treatments been so common. I mean, chill out!
What I mean by character is a beautiful face is attractive across the room, but once you converse for more than 5 minutes (which, I grant, some people may be unable to do), a face with character, quirk, and interest can be far more charming, far sexier, than the preconcieved ideal. Afterall, can you ever be surprised by your own eburnean fantasy Galatea?
Perhaps (perhaps that isn't strong enough) I am odd, and everyone else judges everyone by physical appearance, even people they know well. Perhaps if you have not a single grain of wit in your whole body it is worth scraping that extra 2% of beauty at the cost of freedom, independence, and authentic sexuality and character, or conversely lacking that wit you can only judge people on physical appearance. I find it hard to accept such a bleak view of humanity, as even the lowest common denominator 'prole-feed', such as our own beloved SMH, or maybe 'Big Brother', still have some artistic merit, however dubious.
Yes, make-up has a purpose. In middle age and the twilight years, if modern optometrists sabotage dodgy-eyes self defence, then perhaps it's fun to daub on a bit of youthful magic, prance about and remember what it was like in the good old days. But age has it's own compensations. For stage work, bright lights need strong reflective surfaces to not blend out, and there is no easier way to experiment with identity in any of a multitude of ways. I object only to an almost religious observance by the already stomach-churningly gorgeous youth of today.
So where does this long, indulgent rant end? If you think there is more to people than what appears on a photograph, if you think you have more to offer than an artificially pretty face, if you crave just a little more person than what can be satisfied by photographic media (any coincidence that movie stars are good looking), then think twice about what you're doing when you reach for the 'foundation' or automatically rank all faces in the crowd according to correlation to some ideal and unrealistic fantasy.
Life is too long, too varied, too interesting for something so superficial, dare I say cosmetic, to have any intrinsic value.

Bad sex literature

2007-04-11T02:32:34Z

Some champ has helpfully put a website together with published sex scenes.
In early high school occasionally equally inexperienced people asked me to edit their stories, and I universally cut most of the so-called sex scenes, but compared with the following, they were Pulitzer Prize material.
http://www.literaryreview.co.uk/badsexpassages.html
Enjoy!

Crappy Ancient Historical Films

2007-04-09T14:32:30Z

Braveheart. Gladiator. Troy. Alexander. 300. Need I go on?
All of the above films (which deteriorate steadily in quality) make some sacrifices of historicity to plot, drama, and the film format. This is fine. Who really wants to see a film in some foreign language?
What annoys me is the simple detail which is lost for nothing. Scottish warriors in William Wallace's time wore helmets and lived in houses. Horses had no stirrups in Ancient Rome. Moreover, they didn't really care about incest. Troy... need I say more? Homer is perfect - why mess with it? Alexander? Awesome battles. Lots of them. Not so awesome boring bits in between. Oliver Stone could have dealt with Alexander's bisexuality or the political resonances it has with modern times, but did neither - just uselessly expanded the plot... and WTF was Angelina Jolie doing there? HUH! And 300. It doesn't cost much to do some research into what Spartans wore, how much body hair they might have had, their social structure (Helots?), political structure (Ephors?), Xerxes characterisation, and the role of modern sexual mores in ancient Greek society (minimal). Gnnn. No wonder all of the above films have REALLY pissed off one country or another.
I hear a movie adaptation of Dan Simmon's Ilium is in the works. It doesn't NEED to sacrifice history for drama, perhaps they can get the costumes and makeup right there. Oh please!
Other than that, my Easter weekend was dramatically improved by the worst head-cold in the Southern Hemisphere, which then metastasised to my joints, my oral lining and god knows where else.
Happy Easter everyone!

Day in the life

2007-03-29T11:06:04Z

Woke at quarter to seven. Read Feynman Red Lectures for half an hour, dressed, breakfasted, walked to first class - vector algebra. Held narcolepsy at bay!
Progressed to next lecture, either one of either real and complex analysis or nanoscience - by default I picked the harder subject.
Next hour was spent in consultation with my project supervisor, deriving the coupled mode equations for long period colinear propagation in Bragg Fiber.
I then moved to chemistry where I sat in on a second year quantum mechanics lecture, discussing the mutual orthogonality of all solutions to the Schrodinger wave equation in one dimension (then generalising), while simultaneously eating my packed lunch.
Next hour was a linear maths tutorial, in which my brain failed to kick itself into gear - the links were not forming. That's okay, because the next class was Electromagnetism, in which we used Stokes Theorem and a few others to do some funky stuff looking at potentials.
Next hour was a lecture on Discrete Maths, in which we did a bit of number theory concerning primes, pair primes, and a few other bits and pieces, which was interesting.
Following this was my last class for the day (9th or 10th, depending on how you count it), a tutorial on real and complex analysis in which I made halting progress in proving various identities through various fairly unrigorous schemes.
Then the fun started. A quick rush back to home to grab my trombone, and then to band to play some freaky hard jazz stuff for two hours. Sadly our room does not yet have a drum kit. This is being worked on.
Following this, back to home, spruced up, shave, etc etc. Got dressed in my black dinner suit, a blue shirt, very blingy belt, and pink bow-tie with blue flowers on it and set off for the choir I was bludging that night to pass some music onto people.
That done, I moved off to the party, arriving in time for a few rounds of the legendary game (Bartok), but not in time to order dinner from the local Thai place. Someone departed to pick it up - I thought to give them a hand carrying it, and set off after them. 20 minutes later I was back, having realised that they took a car. ;)
Fortunately many people were not hungry - therefore, neither was I. Mmmm.
We then caught a bus, which was awesome in my bowtie. Did anyone say ostentatious - to Statement where Don Rader and his chums played some mind warpingly good Jazz for a few hours while we fully took advantage of RSA to drink as much water as we could.
All good things must come to an end (for life to be truly miserable), so we set off. Me and a few other guests walked the 5kms back to uni - night time is so nice. Quieter, and doesn't hurt the eyes!
Got back to my room, found my computer still stuffed, repaired since.
Read the news on a website, retired for the night (or early morning) following a shower and other usual niceties, alarm set for the next day, when it all began again.
:)

A day's sailing

2007-03-11T11:39:19Z

I spent a day sailing on Pittwater. Very nice. The water was very clear. I spent the previous night on board the boat. Someone saw a shooting star, I saw the flash but nothing else.
The wind was perfect, the sun hot (as usual), my pale skin swathed in UV abhorent goop. A swim or two reconfirmed my severe lack of swimming ability. Perhaps speedoes are the answer - I always preferred skinny dipping.
After a magnificent lunch, on the way back from the beach to the mooring, I trailed my feet and hands in the water - sharkbait.
The water curled around my spread toes and fingers, green and blue and white and cool and rushing, splashing, and smearing my blue antifoul-woad annointment. Between my fingers a hollow of green spread from the laminar flow, rejoining with a splash and froth of bubbles.
A sliver of beach, a warm lagoon, many little fish, no doubt some bigger ones with pointy teeth. Good food, good company.
Nearly as beautiful as you, my love, and not nearly as talkative!

My latest acquisition...

2007-02-17T12:52:41Z

Hennessy Expedition Hammock:
http://www.backpackgeartest.org/reviews/Shelters/Hammocks/Hennessy%20Explorer%20Ultralite%20A-Sym/Owners_Reviews/Owner%20Review%20by%20Andre%20Corterier/hammock.JPG
Can't wait to try this one out. It worked pretty well in the backyard!
Yeah, I couldn't find a good pic. You get the idea. Extreme w00tishness...

To all those many maths genii I know - this affords some hope.

2007-02-08T12:54:06Z

Impure Mathematics

To prove once and for all that math can be fun, we
present: Wherein it is related how that paragon of womanly
virtue, young Polly Nomial (our heroine) is accosted by that
notorious villain Curly Pi, and factored (oh horror!!!)
Once upon a time (1/t) pretty little Polly Nomial was
strolling across a field of vectors when she came to the boundary
of a singularly large matrix. Now Polly was convergent, and her
mother had made it an absolute condition that she must never
enter such an array without her brackets on. Polly, however,
who had changed her variables that morning and was feeling
particularly badly behaved, ignored this condition on the basis
that it was insufficient and made her way in amongst the complex
elements. Rows and columns closed in on her from all sides.
Tangents approached her surface. She became tensor and tensor.
Quite suddendly two branches of a hyperbola touched her at a
single point. She oscillated violently, lost all sense of
directrix, and went completely divergent. As she tripped over a
square root that was protruding from the erf and plunged
headlong down a steep gradient. When she rounded off once more,
she found herself inverted, apparently alone, in a non-Euclidean
space.
She was being watched, however. That smooth operator,
Curly Pi, was lurking inner product. As his eyes devoured her
curvilinear coordinates, a singular expression crossed his face.
He wondered, "Was she still convergent?" He decided to
integrate properly at once.
Hearing a common fraction behind her, Polly rotated and
saw Curly Pi approaching with his power series extrapolated.
She could see at once by his degenerate conic and dissipative
that he was bent on no good.
"Arcsinh," she gasped.
"Ho, ho," he said, "What a symmetric little asymptote
you have I can see you angles have lots of secs."
"Oh sir," she protested, "keep away from me I haven't
got my brackets on."
"Calm yourself, my dear," said our suave operator, "your
fears are purely imaginary."
"I, I," she thought, "perhaps he's not normal but
homologous."
"What order are you?" the brute demanded.
"Seventeen," replied Polly.
Curly leered "I suppose you've never been operated on."
"Of course not," Polly replied quite properly, "I'm
absolutely convergent."
"Come, come," said Curly, "let's off to a decimal place
I know and I'll take you to the limit."
"Never," gasped Polly.
"Abscissa," he swore, using the vilest oath he knew.
His patience was gone. Coshing her over the coefficient with a
log until she was powerless, Curly removed her discontinuities.
He stared at her significant places, and began smoothing out her
points of inflection. Poor Polly. The algorithmic method was
now her only hope. She felt his digits tending to her asymptotic
limit. Her convergence would soon be gone forever.
There was no mercy, for Curly was a heavyside operator.
Curly's radius squared itself; Polly's loci quivered. He
integrated by parts. He integrated by partial fractions. After
he cofactored, he performed runge - kutta on her. The complex
beast even went all the way around and did a contour
integration. What an indignity - to be multiply connected on
her first integration. Curly went on operating until he
completely satisfied her hypothesis, then he exponentiated and
became completely orthogonal.
When Polly got home that night, her mother noticed that
she was no longer piecewise continuous, but had been truncated
in several places But it was to late to differentiate now. As
the months went by, Polly's denominator increased monotonically.
Finally she went to L'Hopital and generated a small but
pathological function which left surds all over the place and
drove Polly to deviation.
The moral of our sad story is this: "If you want to
keep your expressions convergent, never allow them a single
degree of freedom."

Now set it to music and you have a revue piece.

219 degrees!

2007-01-28T07:17:01Z

This seemed like a good idea at the time.
120km hike from Lithgow to a family property almost exactly due north. In January. 10kgs of bag and gear, 6L of water, 6kgs of food (not sure how long it will take), 1kg of metho.
Day 1: caught the early train up to Lithgow, arrived 8:30, started walking. Lots of trailbikes, rather hot. Got lost at one point, but GPS provided salvation. Covered about 30kms, camped. 40 minutes of searching was rewarded with my first (and probably last) view of comet McNaught. Slept in the hammock, easy. Relaxed a bit during the night, and was against a rock when I woke up.
Day 2. Decided to continue, covered 15kms. All creeks dry. The odd puddle, filled with impermiable, filter clogging dust. The odd tailings pond in mine areas. A stagnant pool or two, but otherwise no water. Some trailbikers filled up my camelbak, very appreciated. Map cover broke, and hiking pole jammed open (heat, I think).
Finished reading Alex Jones' new book "Helen Garner and the meaning of everything", which was thoroughly amusing, and all the more so because I know what it's talking about!
Walked down to Airly Creek, with a catchment of 50 square kms or so. Filled with dust and pine needles, no sign of water for more than year. Supposedly there were big storms a week ago, but obviously not enough to generate a flow! Ran out of water. Hiked out of Airly Creek to Glen Davis Road, then down it to Airly Mountain, in which I found a campsite with some 4 wheel drivers and more importantly water! I crashed there! One of the people who was there was also 19 (like me) and was studying med at UNSW (heads up MED2007 people), out of Pendle Hill High! Impressive!
That night my hammock spilt in half dumping me unceremoniously on the ground. I decided to call it quits, and the next morning a large blister had formed under the ball of my 2nd toe on my right foot, an unusual occurence (my shoes are 5 years old and thus very worn in!)
Then again I had walked about 70kms over 2 days (including deviations for water and getting lost, etc).
I hitched a lift with them to Lithgow and caught the train back to my worried mum. Had a shower! Plus!
I think I have no come to realise the difference between masochism and recreation. An important difference it is too.
Anyone know how to sew Nylon?

Home again!

2007-01-17T14:35:36Z

I arrived in Taipei and chilled out there with a friend for a few days. Got up to lots of mischief, saw a few sights, did some shopping, reaquainted myself with the dangers of street food (this time it was death by chilli!) and otherwise had a grea time.
Got the last seat out on standby and had a pleasant flight to Australia. I think China Airlines isn't crashing so much these days.
The queues at Sydney airport for immigration and customs were the worst I'd seen. Such is life.
Home again. Unpacking, attending to all sorts of details... back into the swing of things!
Hope you enjoyed these posts!

Vienna!!!

2007-01-11T20:11:19Z

I left the humble abode of Johanna and co at 3am, walked to the station for an hour, took a train to Stuttgart, where I met a person with whom I had arranged a lift over the internet. 832km, 6 hours. You do the maths. I love Autobahns.
Once I got to Vienna I found out the details of the opera, picked up my airline ticket, and eventually found my Austrian friend again!!!
That evening... Tristan und Isolde, 5 hours of never-ending chord progressions. Standing room for 3.50E, good fun! A pretty good production all up - impressively good singers, as you´d expect in Vienna!
Since then, sleep, university, and attempting to pack everything into my small bag, which I might *just* succeed in doing!

I was going to write some philosophical stuff, now seems a good time, as I´ve almost finished the greater part of my travels. Here´s some questions then (and as a scientist, questions are much more important than answers!)
1) What is it to be human? What is a human once all the accoutrements of civilisation are removed? My genes are more or less identical (hopefully slightly less inbred) to my marginally less washed ancestors of 10000 years ago, I can use a computer, but I have the same brain. So what is the difference? What is a human being?
2) Can experience, varied and broad and continuous experience lead to spiritual balance? If we take spiritualism to be an aspect of human existence, and an artifact of human experience in a world that they cannot really comprehend. Describe sure, go science, but innately comprehend - how big is 100 even? And can spiritual balance lead to happiness?
3) What are the limits of human ability, of personal ability. In what ways are these limits determined by physical ability, dexterity, and stamina, and in what ways are the limits defined in a mental way? How can they be discovered, how can they be extended?

I think to pretend I have answers to any of these questions that are relevent to anyone other than myself is to be, at worst presumptuous, and at best philosophical. For myself, perhaps, I have some idea about the first one, a potential for some idea about the second, and a pretty good idea of the third in some areas (it is the easiest question by a long way).
As for you, my millions of readers, how will you find out?

Vienna!!!

2007-01-11T20:02:39Z

Kenneth Charles' LJ, please keep it anonymous, mention no names!

LJ update!

Good to be alive!

Opera heaven (almost)

Maine

US

Travel to US, UK, Europe, Near East, and Far East!

Love dream

Serendipitous wetness

More assorted short stories

Distilling Instinct

Random walk

Hiking

Liability claims

Twins

Why do people wear make-up?

Bad sex literature

Crappy Ancient Historical Films

Day in the life

A day's sailing

My latest acquisition...

To all those many maths genii I know - this affords *some* hope.

219 degrees!

Home again!

Vienna!!!

Vienna!!!

To all those many maths genii I know - this affords some hope.