I have a very simple BBQ - it is a 2 burner model, and the prime requirement when I bought it was that it had to be small enough to fit on the balconey of the apartment that I lived in at the time.
Only one burner works at the moment, so I am down to one hot plate.
Funnily enough, it is more than enough for our humble BBQ-ing needs. I did 9 chops on it tonight, and they all fitted on ok without having to be jostled around to make space. It was cheap, it's comparatively light, and it doesn't take up a lot of space.
Compare that with the MOAB (Mother of All BBQ's) that I saw today in a BBQ shop.
It was entirely made of marine grade stainless steel (whatever that is).
It had six burners and some sort of infra-red warming thing.
It had a granite benchtop attached that provided more benchspace than we have in our kitchen.
There was a sink attached to the left.
There was a glass fronted bar fridge under the counter on the right.
It had multiple drawers for holding.... I don't know what.
All up, it was $17,990.
Yes, nearly 18 thousand bucks for a BBQ. And that didn't include shipping and installation.
Tell me we haven't gotten richer over the last decade. Come on, just try and tell me that we're all wretchedly poor and badly off.
Beats me if they've sold any though.
There was one nice touch in this BBQ shop - all the "mens stuff" like BBQ's and tongs and things were on one side of the store, and the other side was dedicated to nice looking outdoor furniture. I saw several men browsing amongst the iron whilst their significant others sat on the outdoor lounges and had a chat. I reckon they must upsell a lot, going from just one BBQ to a BBQ with a new outdoor setting.
Very smart.
Friday, 14 September 2007
A mixed week on the bike
This was lining up to be a good week in the saddle. I did three good rides which totalled about 135km, and was all set to do another of at least 50km when I started to come down with yet another cold. Last time this happened, I risked it and went for a ride. That totally wrecked me, and I was in bed for a week. This time, I hung up the bright bike shirts and settled down to rest and see the cold through.
I'm philosophical about it all, but I was looking forward to a week of 200km+. Yes, it's draining, and I fall asleep on the couch at 4pm, and my legs feel like they have been run over by a steam roller, but it still feels good.
The saving grace is that the rides I have been doing are very flat, and I haven't been pushing it too hard. There is nary a hill of any note between here and Homebush, and the ride down to the airport (or Botany Bay) follows a canal, and canals are reknowned for being built on very flat land.
I suppose it's like riding across Holland.
I am in no hurry to go and tackle hills. I know I am supposed to, since it builds strength and fitness, but why beat the hell out of yourself when you don't really need to? It's not like I am training for the Tour de France.
It's a good thing I didn't go out today. We had a very nasty little squall come through - torrential rain and howling winds for about 10 minutes - and it was enough to bring down a power line near us. The Fire Brigade got called out as a line came down and landed on a parked car. The Police blocked the street off and the fire guys did their thing.
In the end, I think it was a Foxtel cable rather than a power cable - but I wouldn't be stupid enough to grab it to see which one it was.
I'm philosophical about it all, but I was looking forward to a week of 200km+. Yes, it's draining, and I fall asleep on the couch at 4pm, and my legs feel like they have been run over by a steam roller, but it still feels good.
The saving grace is that the rides I have been doing are very flat, and I haven't been pushing it too hard. There is nary a hill of any note between here and Homebush, and the ride down to the airport (or Botany Bay) follows a canal, and canals are reknowned for being built on very flat land.
I suppose it's like riding across Holland.
I am in no hurry to go and tackle hills. I know I am supposed to, since it builds strength and fitness, but why beat the hell out of yourself when you don't really need to? It's not like I am training for the Tour de France.
It's a good thing I didn't go out today. We had a very nasty little squall come through - torrential rain and howling winds for about 10 minutes - and it was enough to bring down a power line near us. The Fire Brigade got called out as a line came down and landed on a parked car. The Police blocked the street off and the fire guys did their thing.
In the end, I think it was a Foxtel cable rather than a power cable - but I wouldn't be stupid enough to grab it to see which one it was.
Space saving tyres
Most reviews of new cars seem to gloss over the fact that they feature a space saving tyre. The reasoning is that tyres don't fail these days, so most people can happily drive for years without ever getting a flat.
I have not seen a tyre fail catastrophically since about 1975. Mum was driving, and the sidewall blew out at about 110 and I think she had a fun time keeping the car on the road. There was rubber smeared all the way down the side of the car (it was a front tyre that went). She was too shaken to change it, and I was too young. I actually have no idea how we got it changed.
In the last 5 years, I have had to change three tyres, all thanks to running over nails. I had one yesterday, and I got it in a shopping centre car park of all places. Thankfully, I was there early, so all I had to do when I got back to the car and spotted the flat was to reverse into a wheelchair spot (which is wider than the usual car space) and changed it there.
It's hard to tell in this photo, but the tyre has emptied out enough for the rim to be resting on the concrete.
I hate the stupid little jack and lug wrench that Landrover issue as standard kit. You'd think that for a vehicle that is supposed to be able to go off road, they'd fit a better jack (something that could lift more than six inches off a flat surface) and a better wrench. I had to do a bit of jumping up and down on this one to get the nuts off.
When I got the tyre repaired, the bloke that refitted the tyre had a wrench about a metre long. They don't buggerise around.
I am so glad I have not had to rely on space saving spares.
That said, I spotted this car while I was out and about getting flat tyres. Whitewalls - what a classic. I could have had several other parking spots in this street, but I pulled up and waited for this guy to go so I could take a couple of photos of his car.
I look at the car above, which is just so nice, and then this yellow thing below, and wonder what sort of jerk would fork out good money for such a bucket of snot?
I have not seen a tyre fail catastrophically since about 1975. Mum was driving, and the sidewall blew out at about 110 and I think she had a fun time keeping the car on the road. There was rubber smeared all the way down the side of the car (it was a front tyre that went). She was too shaken to change it, and I was too young. I actually have no idea how we got it changed.
In the last 5 years, I have had to change three tyres, all thanks to running over nails. I had one yesterday, and I got it in a shopping centre car park of all places. Thankfully, I was there early, so all I had to do when I got back to the car and spotted the flat was to reverse into a wheelchair spot (which is wider than the usual car space) and changed it there.
It's hard to tell in this photo, but the tyre has emptied out enough for the rim to be resting on the concrete.
I hate the stupid little jack and lug wrench that Landrover issue as standard kit. You'd think that for a vehicle that is supposed to be able to go off road, they'd fit a better jack (something that could lift more than six inches off a flat surface) and a better wrench. I had to do a bit of jumping up and down on this one to get the nuts off.
When I got the tyre repaired, the bloke that refitted the tyre had a wrench about a metre long. They don't buggerise around.
I am so glad I have not had to rely on space saving spares.
That said, I spotted this car while I was out and about getting flat tyres. Whitewalls - what a classic. I could have had several other parking spots in this street, but I pulled up and waited for this guy to go so I could take a couple of photos of his car.
I look at the car above, which is just so nice, and then this yellow thing below, and wonder what sort of jerk would fork out good money for such a bucket of snot?
Stupid advertising
I don't listen to Nova FM much, but I was stuck with it the other day, and heard a promotion that went something like this:
"We play 50% less ads than any other station, so we can play 50% more music."
Sounds like someone can't add up, or has a problem with percentages. If you crunch the numbers, the only way this works is if another radio station plays 30 minutes of ads per hour and 30 minutes of music.
I know of no such station.
Assuming your average station plays 40 minutes of music and 20 minutes of ads, if you play only 50% as many ads as them, then you only play 10 minutes per hour.
However, if you claim to play 50% more music, then you are playing an additional 20 minutes per hour. If you add that up, you end up with an hour that is 70 minutes long.
I'm submitting a complaint.
"We play 50% less ads than any other station, so we can play 50% more music."
Sounds like someone can't add up, or has a problem with percentages. If you crunch the numbers, the only way this works is if another radio station plays 30 minutes of ads per hour and 30 minutes of music.
I know of no such station.
Assuming your average station plays 40 minutes of music and 20 minutes of ads, if you play only 50% as many ads as them, then you only play 10 minutes per hour.
However, if you claim to play 50% more music, then you are playing an additional 20 minutes per hour. If you add that up, you end up with an hour that is 70 minutes long.
I'm submitting a complaint.
Are students really that poor?
I live in a reasonably affluent area. The median price of houses around here is in the vicinity of $800,000, and just down the road, it is over the million mark. You don't see many banged up old cars, or people that look like they are down to their last ten cents (although if interest rates keep going up, I suspect I might see a few BMW drives who are down to their last dollar after the bank has cleaned them out).
That said, it's hard to get good cheese around here. The selection is good, but not great. To get outstanding French cheese that costs $70 a kilo and upwards, you need to go to a shopping centre where there are a lot of affluent people.
The closest one for me that meets that criteria is Broadway, which is right next door to two universities. Funny how a population of "dirt poor" students can support a cheese counter that is longer than my lounge room.
Next time you hear students whining about how poor they are, just think of the Pont l'Eveque. The last time I bought some, it was retailing for around $100 a kilo.
That said, it's hard to get good cheese around here. The selection is good, but not great. To get outstanding French cheese that costs $70 a kilo and upwards, you need to go to a shopping centre where there are a lot of affluent people.
The closest one for me that meets that criteria is Broadway, which is right next door to two universities. Funny how a population of "dirt poor" students can support a cheese counter that is longer than my lounge room.
Next time you hear students whining about how poor they are, just think of the Pont l'Eveque. The last time I bought some, it was retailing for around $100 a kilo.
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
Refueling
I did not drink 0.18 litres of petrol today.
According to Wikipedia, cycling consumes the equivalent of 0.36 litres of petrol per 100km.
However, I like this disclaimer:
It should be noted, however, that the actual fuel efficiency of human power is in dispute. Recent articles have pointed out that "human power" should include the cost of food production, which can be quite high for energy-intensive diets. [18]. The claims by Chris Goodall suggest that walking consumes about the same amount of fuel as driving in some societies, thus the posted human-power efficiencies may be inflated by up to an order of magnitude.
They might have a point.
According to Wikipedia, cycling consumes the equivalent of 0.36 litres of petrol per 100km.
However, I like this disclaimer:
It should be noted, however, that the actual fuel efficiency of human power is in dispute. Recent articles have pointed out that "human power" should include the cost of food production, which can be quite high for energy-intensive diets. [18]. The claims by Chris Goodall suggest that walking consumes about the same amount of fuel as driving in some societies, thus the posted human-power efficiencies may be inflated by up to an order of magnitude.
They might have a point.
Does this path go to Botany Bay?
I must have been hit with some sort of idiot stick recently because I cycled down to Tempe and back again today. A good 50km round trip, done in just over 2 hours.
I managed to stay un-lost for most of the trip, although there was one section where I was really starting to wonder where I was. Then I spotted a fence that was covered in familiar looking graffiti, and I knew I was on the right track. That is the first time that I have found stupid looking spray painted stuff to be vaguely useful.
The highlight of the trip was finding a handmade chocolate shop called Adora. I'm glad I picked up a business card from them because I didn't even know which suburb I was in. They are at 10 Homer St, Earlwood. I'm happy to give them a big plug as they were really, really good.
The shop is quite small - it would be squishy if more than 6 people piled in to check out what's under the counter. They have 3 or 4 small tables outside on the footpath, and that's it.
I had no idea they existed. I had ridden to Tempe (which meant going straight past them without noticing the shop) and was on my return journey when I looked across the road and spotted two cyclists having a coffee outside a shop. I then looked at the shop awning and saw the words "handmade chocolates".
That's when I did a rapid U-turn, parked my bike with the other two and went in to order a coffee and select some chocolates.
The coffee is a bit more expensive than usual ($3.80 for a cup), but it comes with a chocolate of your choice. I ordered two more, and the bill came to a bit over $6. The only thing stopping me from getting more was the shortage of cash in my wallet.
Their brochure, which doubles as a very nifty business card, lists 41 chocolates. I like the really dark and evil stuff, so I had a chocolate orange slice, a chocolate ganache and an almond cluster. All were delicious. The coffee was excellent. The water in the carafe was cold. The view was ok. The other cyclists were very pleasant to talk to. The waitress was very nice.
It's a pity it's all the way down in Earlwood. I could get used to hanging out at Adora.
I had a chat with the cycling couple for maybe 20 minutes. They were from the Central Coast, and were having a holiday in Sydney, staying at a hotel at Homebush. I think they took a much more liesurely approach to riding than I do - by the looks of things, it had taken them all day to get from Homebush to Tempe and then back to this chocolate shop.
The woman asked all sorts of questions about my shoes, since I wear hard soled racing shoes with cleats sticking out the bottom. They had "old fashioned" pedals with normal sneakers on. She was amazed that I could ride in cleats without tipping over and killing myself. Well, I have gone over sideways once, and have seen other people do it right in front of me, and as I told her, you only ever do it once. Falling sideways off your bike onto concrete usually provides a particularly salutory lesson.
I am absolutely stuffed again. My leg muscles feel bruised. I felt great though on the homeward run - once I was back on the road, there were a few occasions where I really had to jump on the pedals in order to keep up with the traffic, and my legs were just so full of power, I was quite amazed. I just tromped on the pedals, and the bike flew away underneath me. It's a great feeling.
Of course it only lasted for a few hundred metres. Then I was out of breath and shagged.
I managed to stay un-lost for most of the trip, although there was one section where I was really starting to wonder where I was. Then I spotted a fence that was covered in familiar looking graffiti, and I knew I was on the right track. That is the first time that I have found stupid looking spray painted stuff to be vaguely useful.
The highlight of the trip was finding a handmade chocolate shop called Adora. I'm glad I picked up a business card from them because I didn't even know which suburb I was in. They are at 10 Homer St, Earlwood. I'm happy to give them a big plug as they were really, really good.
The shop is quite small - it would be squishy if more than 6 people piled in to check out what's under the counter. They have 3 or 4 small tables outside on the footpath, and that's it.
I had no idea they existed. I had ridden to Tempe (which meant going straight past them without noticing the shop) and was on my return journey when I looked across the road and spotted two cyclists having a coffee outside a shop. I then looked at the shop awning and saw the words "handmade chocolates".
That's when I did a rapid U-turn, parked my bike with the other two and went in to order a coffee and select some chocolates.
The coffee is a bit more expensive than usual ($3.80 for a cup), but it comes with a chocolate of your choice. I ordered two more, and the bill came to a bit over $6. The only thing stopping me from getting more was the shortage of cash in my wallet.
Their brochure, which doubles as a very nifty business card, lists 41 chocolates. I like the really dark and evil stuff, so I had a chocolate orange slice, a chocolate ganache and an almond cluster. All were delicious. The coffee was excellent. The water in the carafe was cold. The view was ok. The other cyclists were very pleasant to talk to. The waitress was very nice.
It's a pity it's all the way down in Earlwood. I could get used to hanging out at Adora.
I had a chat with the cycling couple for maybe 20 minutes. They were from the Central Coast, and were having a holiday in Sydney, staying at a hotel at Homebush. I think they took a much more liesurely approach to riding than I do - by the looks of things, it had taken them all day to get from Homebush to Tempe and then back to this chocolate shop.
The woman asked all sorts of questions about my shoes, since I wear hard soled racing shoes with cleats sticking out the bottom. They had "old fashioned" pedals with normal sneakers on. She was amazed that I could ride in cleats without tipping over and killing myself. Well, I have gone over sideways once, and have seen other people do it right in front of me, and as I told her, you only ever do it once. Falling sideways off your bike onto concrete usually provides a particularly salutory lesson.
I am absolutely stuffed again. My leg muscles feel bruised. I felt great though on the homeward run - once I was back on the road, there were a few occasions where I really had to jump on the pedals in order to keep up with the traffic, and my legs were just so full of power, I was quite amazed. I just tromped on the pedals, and the bike flew away underneath me. It's a great feeling.
Of course it only lasted for a few hundred metres. Then I was out of breath and shagged.
This is getting ridiculous
Anyone that knows of the existence of Starbucks would probably be aware of the massive inconvenience that they have foisted on the coffee drinking public.
"I'd like a latte please."
"Tall, Grande, or Bucket?"
"Huh?"
"Tall, Grande or Bucket. What size do you want".
"A normal one. A regular coffee. Coffee in a cup that normal people drink".
"Ah, you want a tall".
"No, I want a normal sized coffee."
"We call that a tall coffee".
"I call that being a tool".
"Cow, soy, goat, yak or cat?"
"Huh?"
"What type of animal or vegetable do you want you milk to have been produced from?"
"Milk. Normal milk. The kind of stuff you find at the supermarket."
"Ok, Cow."
"Who are you calling a cow?"
"Uh, regular, skim, lite, low fat or semi-skim?"
"Oh for crying out loud - a coffee!"
"I'll take it you want regular."
"I take it then are 10 more stupid questions to answer."
"Do you want any of the following added - caramel, hazelnut, essence of gwarp, or an infusion of organic bat eyelashes?"
"The only thing I am going to add is sugar."
"White, raw, brown, caster or sweet'n'low?"
"Just give me the bloody coffee before someone gets hurt."
Which is why I avoid Starbucks like the plague. And any other stupid coffee selling establishment that tries to copy its business model.
I have now found a bread shop at Broadway to avoid. I had to deal with this yesterday:
"That loaf of bread on the top shelf please."
"White, brown or nut?
"White".
"Seeds or no seeds?"
"Seeds."
"Carroway, sesame or flocker?"
"Uh, sesame."
"Sliced or unsliced?"
"Unsliced."
"Paper bag or plastic bag?"
"Paper."
"Carry bag?"
"Yes please."
Oh for crying out loud! I just want the bloody load on the top shelf, as it is, stuffed into a bag! How hard can it be to sell a loaf of bread? Are these people suffering from a lack of conversation, and feel that they have to turn every sales opportunity into a 10 minute discourse?
With luck, they will spend all their time talking, no time selling and soon be out of business. Capitalism is our only hope.
"I'd like a latte please."
"Tall, Grande, or Bucket?"
"Huh?"
"Tall, Grande or Bucket. What size do you want".
"A normal one. A regular coffee. Coffee in a cup that normal people drink".
"Ah, you want a tall".
"No, I want a normal sized coffee."
"We call that a tall coffee".
"I call that being a tool".
"Cow, soy, goat, yak or cat?"
"Huh?"
"What type of animal or vegetable do you want you milk to have been produced from?"
"Milk. Normal milk. The kind of stuff you find at the supermarket."
"Ok, Cow."
"Who are you calling a cow?"
"Uh, regular, skim, lite, low fat or semi-skim?"
"Oh for crying out loud - a coffee!"
"I'll take it you want regular."
"I take it then are 10 more stupid questions to answer."
"Do you want any of the following added - caramel, hazelnut, essence of gwarp, or an infusion of organic bat eyelashes?"
"The only thing I am going to add is sugar."
"White, raw, brown, caster or sweet'n'low?"
"Just give me the bloody coffee before someone gets hurt."
Which is why I avoid Starbucks like the plague. And any other stupid coffee selling establishment that tries to copy its business model.
I have now found a bread shop at Broadway to avoid. I had to deal with this yesterday:
"That loaf of bread on the top shelf please."
"White, brown or nut?
"White".
"Seeds or no seeds?"
"Seeds."
"Carroway, sesame or flocker?"
"Uh, sesame."
"Sliced or unsliced?"
"Unsliced."
"Paper bag or plastic bag?"
"Paper."
"Carry bag?"
"Yes please."
Oh for crying out loud! I just want the bloody load on the top shelf, as it is, stuffed into a bag! How hard can it be to sell a loaf of bread? Are these people suffering from a lack of conversation, and feel that they have to turn every sales opportunity into a 10 minute discourse?
With luck, they will spend all their time talking, no time selling and soon be out of business. Capitalism is our only hope.
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Now to a story about the pain of being a pedestrian in Sydney.
I think the article is spot on, but I am amazed that we had to import a Dane to conduct some simple tests - like walking along a street with a watch and timing how much time you spend walking and how much time you spend standing at a corner waiting for the lights to cross.
These Danes are so much more technically advanced than we are - perhaps they have special stopwatches that are on their technology export banned list?
Sorry for the sarcasm -
These results should come as no surprise to anyone that has ever had to walk around Sydney. It's crystal clear that the road system is completely geared towards the car, and pedestrians are 3rd class. I don't mind that sort of attitude when it comes to freeways, but at some point, everyone who drives into the city has to get out and walk.
The planners seem to have forgotten that drivers and pedestrians are the same people. (Yes, some catch the train or bus to town, but every car driver is a pedestrian at some point. Except maybe taxis.) Making the city friendly to cars and unfriendly to pedestrians is not the way to win hearts and minds.
City planners seem to treat the car as an object in its own right - that is, a car is a car and has no occupants. The important thing is to get the car to its destination in the fastest possible time - and bugger the person within. That's barmy, since you often have to park and then walk to get to your destination. Journeys can be made up of multiple parts. I hate the word, but holistic is something that needs to be injected into the heads of planners.
Preferably with a big fat needle. Right through the skull.
I think the article is spot on, but I am amazed that we had to import a Dane to conduct some simple tests - like walking along a street with a watch and timing how much time you spend walking and how much time you spend standing at a corner waiting for the lights to cross.
These Danes are so much more technically advanced than we are - perhaps they have special stopwatches that are on their technology export banned list?
Sorry for the sarcasm -
SYDNEY pedestrians can spend as much time waiting to cross the street as they do on the move because the car has ruled the city unnecessarily for 30 years.
The Danish architect and urban planner Jan Gehl, who began studying Sydney's walkers in May, believes they are harassed and feel like a second priority, putting people at risk of getting hit by cars.
"The worse you treat people, the more they start to take the law into their own hands," Professor Gehl said.
Test walks conducted along major streets such as George, Pitt, Market and Druitt found it took much longer to cross the city from east to west than to walk up the city's spine.
The worst is Market Street, where pedestrians who obey traffic signals spend half their time waiting for the signals to turn green, his research team found. The wait created a sense of crowding, even if the number of people was not particularly high, because people were forced to cluster on each corner.
Traversing Druitt and Park streets involved waiting for about 30 per cent of the time. A spate of accidents around Druitt Street shows the disruptions that have been caused. The State Transit Authority stopped city-bound buses using Druitt Street last month after at least 11 accidents involving pedestrians in the past two years.
Sydney has the potential for "much better turnover" of people, Professor Gehl believes.
In Melbourne, whose council he has advised, the Bourke Street Mall is far more populated than Pitt Street, and Swanston Street, a major thoroughfare, has more than 15,000 more users a day than George Street.
"You have a number of built-in harassments," Professor Gehl said.
One is his pet hate, the traffic button that walkers must push to "apply" to cross the road. Another is the cluttering of the streetscape by large phone booths and bus stops that accommodate large advertising signs.
Professor Gehl has just been engaged by the City of New York to find solutions for Manhattan, which he considers has similar topography to Sydney because it is surrounded by water and has narrow footpaths.
Measures to alter the balance between drivers and walkers range from the radical - doubling tax on fuel - to the subtle - altering the configuration for turning left and right off thoroughfares.
At present, Sydney's roads, footpaths and traffic light configurations all conspired to favour the car, Professor Gehl said. They were a product of traffic engineering that was refined in the 1960s and '70s but never reviewed.
"In many cities they have never come further than accommodating this new gimmick [the motor vehicle]. They have just been allowed to fill every void."
Modern traffic engineers have found ways to accommodate walkers more easily.
"I would say that it's recognised in more and more cities that you have to be more friendly to pedestrians and public life and bicycles because we have been unfriendly for a long time."
Unlike other areas, where councils control the roads, alterations in Sydney have to be approved by the Roads and Traffic Authority.
Changes can be hard to agree on. Recent efforts by City of Sydney to have the RTA reduce the speed limit to 40kmh failed amid strong political opposition.
A City of Sydney councillor, John McInerney, who sits on the council's traffic committee, is hoping the authority will be receptive to Professor Gehl's report, which is due in December.
A spokesman for the authority said it was implementing a $17 million, three-year program to upgrade all 59 pedestrian crossings without traffic lights on state roads with four or more lanes.
-----------------These results should come as no surprise to anyone that has ever had to walk around Sydney. It's crystal clear that the road system is completely geared towards the car, and pedestrians are 3rd class. I don't mind that sort of attitude when it comes to freeways, but at some point, everyone who drives into the city has to get out and walk.
The planners seem to have forgotten that drivers and pedestrians are the same people. (Yes, some catch the train or bus to town, but every car driver is a pedestrian at some point. Except maybe taxis.) Making the city friendly to cars and unfriendly to pedestrians is not the way to win hearts and minds.
City planners seem to treat the car as an object in its own right - that is, a car is a car and has no occupants. The important thing is to get the car to its destination in the fastest possible time - and bugger the person within. That's barmy, since you often have to park and then walk to get to your destination. Journeys can be made up of multiple parts. I hate the word, but holistic is something that needs to be injected into the heads of planners.
Preferably with a big fat needle. Right through the skull.
Monday, 10 September 2007
Riding the Cooks River
I rode down the Cooks River from Homebush to just shy of the airport today. The route looked vaguely like this. I have no idea what distance I did, since I forgot to set the wheel size on my bike computer when I changed the battery today. It was able to register the elapsed time for the ride, but neither speed nor distance got past zero.
I reckon it was at least 20km from Homebush, plus another 8 each way to get to and from Homebush from home. That makes it somewhere in the vicinity of 50km or more. It took 2hrs 10min, and it bloody near killed me.
I have never done this route before, and all I had to guide me was a totally crap map from the RTA. The CEO recently sent me a stack of maps after I wrote to him to complain about useless or missing signage on the cycle path near Parramatta, and he sent he a nice letter in return along with the maps. I thought I would give the maps a go.
I am too tired tonight to write him a letter, but when I do work up the energy, it is unlikely to be nice. If they weren't so large and shiny, I would hang them in the bathroom and wipe my arse with them.
I was lost from the get-go. I stumbled around the Homebush area for a while, generally heading in the right direction, when another cyclist came up behind me. I asked him if he was heading for Botany Bay, and the reply was "No, but I am going to Tempe". I had no idea where Tempe was, so I figured I would just follow him for as far as I could.
As it turned out, Tempe was the end of the line for both of us, and I was glad to turn around when we got there. He was much skinnier, quite a bit fitter and as a result, about 20% faster in cruise mode. I really had to push it along to keep up with him and chat at the same time. I wasn't working at full capacity by any means, but I was certainly out of my normal comfort zone.
I'm glad I did this ride, but I am in no hurry to do it again. Apparently it is a disaster area on weekends with prams, pedestrians and dogs going in all directions, and the path goes through at least four council areas, so the quality of it varies widely depending on the attitude and resources of each council. In some places it is great. In others, it is a goat track. At one point, we were riding on grass and crossing tree roots. It was a really mixed bag.
What also killed me was the continual transition between riding two abreast and single file. Since the other bloke knew the route, I always let him take the lead. That meant I was constantly braking to drop behind me when we struck pedestrians or prams or just a narrow path, and then I'd have to pick up the pace to catch him.
At least it was reasonably flat. I am just too rooted to write anymore.
I reckon it was at least 20km from Homebush, plus another 8 each way to get to and from Homebush from home. That makes it somewhere in the vicinity of 50km or more. It took 2hrs 10min, and it bloody near killed me.
I have never done this route before, and all I had to guide me was a totally crap map from the RTA. The CEO recently sent me a stack of maps after I wrote to him to complain about useless or missing signage on the cycle path near Parramatta, and he sent he a nice letter in return along with the maps. I thought I would give the maps a go.
I am too tired tonight to write him a letter, but when I do work up the energy, it is unlikely to be nice. If they weren't so large and shiny, I would hang them in the bathroom and wipe my arse with them.
I was lost from the get-go. I stumbled around the Homebush area for a while, generally heading in the right direction, when another cyclist came up behind me. I asked him if he was heading for Botany Bay, and the reply was "No, but I am going to Tempe". I had no idea where Tempe was, so I figured I would just follow him for as far as I could.
As it turned out, Tempe was the end of the line for both of us, and I was glad to turn around when we got there. He was much skinnier, quite a bit fitter and as a result, about 20% faster in cruise mode. I really had to push it along to keep up with him and chat at the same time. I wasn't working at full capacity by any means, but I was certainly out of my normal comfort zone.
I'm glad I did this ride, but I am in no hurry to do it again. Apparently it is a disaster area on weekends with prams, pedestrians and dogs going in all directions, and the path goes through at least four council areas, so the quality of it varies widely depending on the attitude and resources of each council. In some places it is great. In others, it is a goat track. At one point, we were riding on grass and crossing tree roots. It was a really mixed bag.
What also killed me was the continual transition between riding two abreast and single file. Since the other bloke knew the route, I always let him take the lead. That meant I was constantly braking to drop behind me when we struck pedestrians or prams or just a narrow path, and then I'd have to pick up the pace to catch him.
At least it was reasonably flat. I am just too rooted to write anymore.
Do you fire flares of release them?
I have read several stories today about RAAF F18's "firing" flares at a Cessna over the weekend.
Do modern aircraft "fire" flares or do they "release" them? What is the proper terminology?
I would pick "release", and here are some lovely photos of lots of flares being released by various aircraft.
To my way of thinking, "firing" involves shooting something out. Bombs are released. Bullets are fired. I guess missiles are released since they ignite after they leave the pylon. Rockets are fired.
I just wonder how the hell the RAAF "fired" flares at the Cessna? Did they zoom over the top of it and then release them out the back?
When I hear that a pilot has "fired flares", I think of someone in a Sopwith Camel using a flare pistol from an open cockpit. I doubt the Hornet pilots were able to open their canopies in flight and do the same, and I have never heard of a pod that you can attach to a Hornet that allows you to sneak up behind someone and fire flares at them.
Unless they had decided to get serious and were in fact firing tracer, which would be another matter altogether. I might have to stir up some greenie truthers by telling them that the Hornets were in fact firing depleted plutonium shells, specially fabricated at Lucas Heights for the conference, and that everyone knows that plutonium burns in contact with air. What people on the ground saw were igniting plutonium rounds.
These rounds hit the ground near Auburn and demolished a kebab shop, as the photo below demonstrates:
A resident of Lakemba holds two 20mm depleted plutonium bullets that were fired at her house by the RAAF over the weekend. She says it was part of a government plot to kill Keysar Trad, who was having dinner there at the time.
Do modern aircraft "fire" flares or do they "release" them? What is the proper terminology?
I would pick "release", and here are some lovely photos of lots of flares being released by various aircraft.
To my way of thinking, "firing" involves shooting something out. Bombs are released. Bullets are fired. I guess missiles are released since they ignite after they leave the pylon. Rockets are fired.
I just wonder how the hell the RAAF "fired" flares at the Cessna? Did they zoom over the top of it and then release them out the back?
When I hear that a pilot has "fired flares", I think of someone in a Sopwith Camel using a flare pistol from an open cockpit. I doubt the Hornet pilots were able to open their canopies in flight and do the same, and I have never heard of a pod that you can attach to a Hornet that allows you to sneak up behind someone and fire flares at them.
Unless they had decided to get serious and were in fact firing tracer, which would be another matter altogether. I might have to stir up some greenie truthers by telling them that the Hornets were in fact firing depleted plutonium shells, specially fabricated at Lucas Heights for the conference, and that everyone knows that plutonium burns in contact with air. What people on the ground saw were igniting plutonium rounds.
These rounds hit the ground near Auburn and demolished a kebab shop, as the photo below demonstrates:
A resident of Lakemba holds two 20mm depleted plutonium bullets that were fired at her house by the RAAF over the weekend. She says it was part of a government plot to kill Keysar Trad, who was having dinner there at the time.
Modernising the Army?
I was browsing through the defense web site today, looking at photos from Afghanistan. I have stolen these three photos without asking permission from anyone. They piqued my interest.
I have not seen one of these for years. I'm surprised the Army is still running them (the Mac truck - not the Globemaster). I got to drive them back in the late 1980's, when we were doing an exercise one year around the Nannup area. Our unit usually didn't take Macs on exercise, since they were unnecessary for the size of the exercise that we were running. We normally just ran Unimogs and Landrovers, with a smattering of F1 trucks until they were phased out.
However, our transport Staff Sgt somehow wangled one, and we took turns in fanging it around the countryside for a week. They were a big jump up from the Mogs in terms of size, and took a bit of getting used to. The bonnet is enormously long - you could lift the lid and park a Commodore under it. Judging the corners was a nightmare, which is why I am glad I never had to drive one in the city. The gearbox was a doozey - the tacho had a line painted at some level of revs, and when you changed up, you had to double declutch into neutral and let the revs fall to exactly that line before shifting into the next gear. If you tried to shift before or after that line, you were stuffed. Stop the truck, fail to collect $200 and start again.
Part of the fun was tooling around the backroads and scaring the cows. Whenever we found a paddock with cattle in it, we'd blast the air horn and watch them take off - tails out vertically, seemingly propelled by liquid poo squirting out of their bums. It was lots of fun until a farmer saw us. Oops.
This is one of the old International Harvester F1 6x6 trucks that were around when I did my military driving course. I read today that these were deployed to Vietnam the year before I was born. Plenty of them were still around when I got my military license over 20 years later. They had a 283 cubic inch petrol motor that wasn't capable of de-skinning a custard and a crash gearbox. Power steering was something that we only dreamed about. At least the windscreen (which was flat and split down the middle) could be folded out frontwise to provide a bit more circulation in the cab. Until some bees flew in one day and stung my co-driver in the face.
They were great beasts, and many of them are still around today doing things out in the country somewhere. They were tough. We found that out the hard way when our regiment got its first issue of Mogs. We commonly used the F1 to make roads through the bush, since it had a front bumper that could easily handle pushing over small trees, and there was nothing down the sides to catch on boulders, tree stumps and the like.
We tried the same trick with some Mogs, and found out the hard way that they were made of plastic and fibreglass. $100,000 worth of damage was done to three trucks in one day. Tool boxes torn off. Front ends smashed up. Mud guards destroyed. Don't get me wrong - I love the Unimog. It's fantastic off road. It's just not suitable for use as a bulldozer.
The F1 truck by the way is not to be confused with the F1 submachine gun, which was also around when I did my basic training. According to Wikipedia, it was phased out in 1991 and replaced by the Steyr. That might be the official story, but I never saw one after my boot camp in 1985.
I grabbed this photo, which shows diesel being pumped out of a 44 gallon drum using a hand pump. I would have thought by now that the Army would have come up with a faster method for transferring fuel in the field. I don't know how many litres of fuel I pumped this way, but I do know that I used to stink of diesel for days after an exercise had ended. There was no way to avoid it splashing over your clothes and skin.
I also had biceps and triceps back then - I doubt I could pump out a couple of drums in a row like I used to be able to.
Ah, the good old Charlie Gutsache. The best thing around for sucking all the snot out of your nose, or blowing all the fillings out of your teeth (if you fail to keep your mouth open whilst firing it).
I have not seen one of these for years. I'm surprised the Army is still running them (the Mac truck - not the Globemaster). I got to drive them back in the late 1980's, when we were doing an exercise one year around the Nannup area. Our unit usually didn't take Macs on exercise, since they were unnecessary for the size of the exercise that we were running. We normally just ran Unimogs and Landrovers, with a smattering of F1 trucks until they were phased out.
However, our transport Staff Sgt somehow wangled one, and we took turns in fanging it around the countryside for a week. They were a big jump up from the Mogs in terms of size, and took a bit of getting used to. The bonnet is enormously long - you could lift the lid and park a Commodore under it. Judging the corners was a nightmare, which is why I am glad I never had to drive one in the city. The gearbox was a doozey - the tacho had a line painted at some level of revs, and when you changed up, you had to double declutch into neutral and let the revs fall to exactly that line before shifting into the next gear. If you tried to shift before or after that line, you were stuffed. Stop the truck, fail to collect $200 and start again.
Part of the fun was tooling around the backroads and scaring the cows. Whenever we found a paddock with cattle in it, we'd blast the air horn and watch them take off - tails out vertically, seemingly propelled by liquid poo squirting out of their bums. It was lots of fun until a farmer saw us. Oops.
This is one of the old International Harvester F1 6x6 trucks that were around when I did my military driving course. I read today that these were deployed to Vietnam the year before I was born. Plenty of them were still around when I got my military license over 20 years later. They had a 283 cubic inch petrol motor that wasn't capable of de-skinning a custard and a crash gearbox. Power steering was something that we only dreamed about. At least the windscreen (which was flat and split down the middle) could be folded out frontwise to provide a bit more circulation in the cab. Until some bees flew in one day and stung my co-driver in the face.
They were great beasts, and many of them are still around today doing things out in the country somewhere. They were tough. We found that out the hard way when our regiment got its first issue of Mogs. We commonly used the F1 to make roads through the bush, since it had a front bumper that could easily handle pushing over small trees, and there was nothing down the sides to catch on boulders, tree stumps and the like.
We tried the same trick with some Mogs, and found out the hard way that they were made of plastic and fibreglass. $100,000 worth of damage was done to three trucks in one day. Tool boxes torn off. Front ends smashed up. Mud guards destroyed. Don't get me wrong - I love the Unimog. It's fantastic off road. It's just not suitable for use as a bulldozer.
The F1 truck by the way is not to be confused with the F1 submachine gun, which was also around when I did my basic training. According to Wikipedia, it was phased out in 1991 and replaced by the Steyr. That might be the official story, but I never saw one after my boot camp in 1985.
I grabbed this photo, which shows diesel being pumped out of a 44 gallon drum using a hand pump. I would have thought by now that the Army would have come up with a faster method for transferring fuel in the field. I don't know how many litres of fuel I pumped this way, but I do know that I used to stink of diesel for days after an exercise had ended. There was no way to avoid it splashing over your clothes and skin.
I also had biceps and triceps back then - I doubt I could pump out a couple of drums in a row like I used to be able to.
Ah, the good old Charlie Gutsache. The best thing around for sucking all the snot out of your nose, or blowing all the fillings out of your teeth (if you fail to keep your mouth open whilst firing it).
Feel free to yank some chains
The stopbush2007 mob have kindly posted an online form where you can leave a message of support.
I know it is too late, but I just had to drop them a line:
The National Socialist Workers Party supports the Stop Bush Coalition's call for a mass protest in Sydney.
We have learned the hard way that invading and occupying other countries is a bad idea.
We support the state control of multi-national companies, and the right of the state to direct those companies to produce goods that the government is most in need of.
Our dear leader, who has sadly departed us, taught us through his example the virtues of being a vegan. He also took over large areas of Europe and returned them to their natural state. He was also a fierce advocate of reducing the impact that humans have on the planet by reducing population densities in various areas. We can learn from this example.
We also believe that young people are the future. We believe in doing all that we can to enrol them in our youth program so that they can be properly educated in their responsiblities to our planet.
Our party proudly stands behind Al Gore and his message - when we think of him, we say "One people, one planet, one leader".
I know it is too late, but I just had to drop them a line:
The National Socialist Workers Party supports the Stop Bush Coalition's call for a mass protest in Sydney.
We have learned the hard way that invading and occupying other countries is a bad idea.
We support the state control of multi-national companies, and the right of the state to direct those companies to produce goods that the government is most in need of.
Our dear leader, who has sadly departed us, taught us through his example the virtues of being a vegan. He also took over large areas of Europe and returned them to their natural state. He was also a fierce advocate of reducing the impact that humans have on the planet by reducing population densities in various areas. We can learn from this example.
We also believe that young people are the future. We believe in doing all that we can to enrol them in our youth program so that they can be properly educated in their responsiblities to our planet.
Our party proudly stands behind Al Gore and his message - when we think of him, we say "One people, one planet, one leader".
Coalition of the shrilling
I could never be a journalist. It takes too long for my thoughts to gel (or congeal), which means it can be days between an event that sparks an idea and the idea being put to paper in coherent form.
Which maybe why so much of what we see on TV or read in the paper is incoherent gibberish. It has just been flung together in a hurry, without time to reflect, ponder and have a few beers.
A few days have passed since I had a look at the APEC rallies. Countless trees have been felled (and CO2 released into the atmosphere) to provide coverage of the event, which had global warming as one of its themes. Dozens of arclights have burned day and night to provide proper television coverage, consuming vast vats of electricity. Coal has been burned in abundance to keep the TV crews well lit. I don't remember anything about carbon offsets being purchased by the rally organisers, so I guess my attendance contributed to the death of at least one polar bear.
Personally, I prefer clubbing baby fur seals, but a polar bear will just have to do.
The rally, which I think was supposed to be about stopping Bush, was supported by at least 31 disparate groups - you can get a list of those that provided statements of support here.
Some might say that in order to drum up the maximum possible numbers, they cast the net far and wide. I prefer the term "scraping the bottom of the barrel".
When you have 31 groups acting together as one, you have a coalition. In this case, the Coalition of the Shrilling. After hearing the furious termagant (more thesaurus work there for you) speak the other day, I was thinking of calling them the Coalition of the Shrieking, but I settled on Shrilling as it rhymes with "willing".
In the days leading up to the rally, the mouthpieces yabbited on about how it would be peaceful etc etc etc. I want to know how they can make statements like that, given that so many different groups were involved. Can the organisers personally vouch for every single group that provided a statement of support? Do they know the organisers of each and every group, and can they be sure that they are only bringing along sane, sensible people?
The answer of course is "no". They had no idea who was going to turn up. They just want maximum numbers, and I don't think they are too fussy about how they make those numbers. Since that is the case, they have no way of excluding those that might want to trash every multinational franchise such as Stabucks, McDonalds and the Body Shop. It's just not possible. When you cast a wide net, it's like long line fishing. You're going to haul some things out of the ocean that you weren't fishing for, but took the bait anyway. Like dolphins, turtles and albatross.
Expecting everyone who turns up to be peaceful and law abiding is something no one can guarantee, and only a complete fool, or a liar, would make such a statement. Just because you have good intentions doesn't mean that everyone you attract will feel the same way.
After all, they attracted me to the rally. I don't think I am the sort of person that they had in mind when they started trawling for victims.
Which maybe why so much of what we see on TV or read in the paper is incoherent gibberish. It has just been flung together in a hurry, without time to reflect, ponder and have a few beers.
A few days have passed since I had a look at the APEC rallies. Countless trees have been felled (and CO2 released into the atmosphere) to provide coverage of the event, which had global warming as one of its themes. Dozens of arclights have burned day and night to provide proper television coverage, consuming vast vats of electricity. Coal has been burned in abundance to keep the TV crews well lit. I don't remember anything about carbon offsets being purchased by the rally organisers, so I guess my attendance contributed to the death of at least one polar bear.
Personally, I prefer clubbing baby fur seals, but a polar bear will just have to do.
The rally, which I think was supposed to be about stopping Bush, was supported by at least 31 disparate groups - you can get a list of those that provided statements of support here.
Some might say that in order to drum up the maximum possible numbers, they cast the net far and wide. I prefer the term "scraping the bottom of the barrel".
When you have 31 groups acting together as one, you have a coalition. In this case, the Coalition of the Shrilling. After hearing the furious termagant (more thesaurus work there for you) speak the other day, I was thinking of calling them the Coalition of the Shrieking, but I settled on Shrilling as it rhymes with "willing".
In the days leading up to the rally, the mouthpieces yabbited on about how it would be peaceful etc etc etc. I want to know how they can make statements like that, given that so many different groups were involved. Can the organisers personally vouch for every single group that provided a statement of support? Do they know the organisers of each and every group, and can they be sure that they are only bringing along sane, sensible people?
The answer of course is "no". They had no idea who was going to turn up. They just want maximum numbers, and I don't think they are too fussy about how they make those numbers. Since that is the case, they have no way of excluding those that might want to trash every multinational franchise such as Stabucks, McDonalds and the Body Shop. It's just not possible. When you cast a wide net, it's like long line fishing. You're going to haul some things out of the ocean that you weren't fishing for, but took the bait anyway. Like dolphins, turtles and albatross.
Expecting everyone who turns up to be peaceful and law abiding is something no one can guarantee, and only a complete fool, or a liar, would make such a statement. Just because you have good intentions doesn't mean that everyone you attract will feel the same way.
After all, they attracted me to the rally. I don't think I am the sort of person that they had in mind when they started trawling for victims.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
MP3, MP4 - what a pain in the arse
We have a very good digital video recorder - a Topfield. You can download TAPs and install them on the recorder to extend its functionality. A TAP is a Topfield Application (I think) that has been written by an 'enthusiast'.
ie, a nutter in Finland who has not seen sunlight for 3 months and is subsisting on powdered coffee and seal fat.
The TAPs are a great idea, and I have no idea whether other PVR or DVR manufacturers have allowed or encouraged the same sort of thing to be done with their kit. My brother has a Panasonic unit, and he loves to fiddle with stuff, and he has never mentioned anything like it.
There are lots of TAPs, but the only one of any interest to me is something that will allow me to store music on it and use it as a jukebox. Someone has already thought of that - they exist. They just have one problem. Or I have just one problem. They play MP3's, and I have ripped all our music into iTunes for use on the iPod. Thanks to Steve Jobs and his stupid format, I would have to re-rip the entire CD collection into some idiotic application like Media Player, then upload it all to the Topfield.
I might consider that when I retire, and I have 20 years of trying not to be bored to death. In the meantime, I'm just not going to bother.
It just goes to show that Jobs does have cunning plans. If I had bought one of his Apple media centre whatever they are things, my problems would be solved. Except that his whatever it is called thing was not on the market when I bought the Topfield over a year ago.
Life was so much simpler when all we had to worry about was whether we bought an LP or a cassette.
I have been pondering the wisdom of buying some sort of box that plugs into the stereo and allows me to play music stored on the PCs. But I can't be shagged doing that either. And why should I bother anyway? We don't even listen to the radio when we are in the lounge room (although that is partly because I haven't really worked out how to use the tuner portion of the stereo. I know that sounds silly, but trust me, when the people at Philips designed out home entertainment unit, they didn't put much thought into ease of operation).
Let me wind back the clock a bit. Around 20 years ago, the home entertainment system consisted of a TV, a VCR, a big amp, a tuner, a record player and a twin deck cassette player. It was all piled up in a big stack, and almost none of it was state of the art. I was a uni student, and it had all been put in a very incoherent fashion. The VCR was quite advanced - it featured a remote control. Except that it was not an infrared unit - it was connected to the VCR by 20 feet of cable, and someone somehow bent the plug and that was the end of the remote. We were too poor to replace it, so for a while, someone had to be delegated to pick their arse up out of the beanbag to change channels, adjust the sound, fast forward and all that.
Then a miracle happened. Mum came to visit, was horrified by all the cobwebs around the place, so she bought me a cobweb sweeper-upper. This hi-tech unit was a broom head on a really long broomstick - about 20 feet actually.
After much diligent practice, we found that it was possible to work almost every control on the entire entertainment system using nothing more than a 20 foot wooden pole (after removing the broom head and throwing it over the back fence). We could even adjust the volume, and that meant twirling a dial.
Now if I could operate a stack of equipment that stood about 5 feet high with a 20 foot long bit of dowel, then surely I should be able to figure out how to drive a home stereo that consists of one "brick", has a proper remote control and actually came with only one set of instructions.
Nope. Next time you are looking at a league table of the top suppliers of home theatre equipment, don't bother looking at the top for Philips. You are looking in the wrong place for a good reason.
ie, a nutter in Finland who has not seen sunlight for 3 months and is subsisting on powdered coffee and seal fat.
The TAPs are a great idea, and I have no idea whether other PVR or DVR manufacturers have allowed or encouraged the same sort of thing to be done with their kit. My brother has a Panasonic unit, and he loves to fiddle with stuff, and he has never mentioned anything like it.
There are lots of TAPs, but the only one of any interest to me is something that will allow me to store music on it and use it as a jukebox. Someone has already thought of that - they exist. They just have one problem. Or I have just one problem. They play MP3's, and I have ripped all our music into iTunes for use on the iPod. Thanks to Steve Jobs and his stupid format, I would have to re-rip the entire CD collection into some idiotic application like Media Player, then upload it all to the Topfield.
I might consider that when I retire, and I have 20 years of trying not to be bored to death. In the meantime, I'm just not going to bother.
It just goes to show that Jobs does have cunning plans. If I had bought one of his Apple media centre whatever they are things, my problems would be solved. Except that his whatever it is called thing was not on the market when I bought the Topfield over a year ago.
Life was so much simpler when all we had to worry about was whether we bought an LP or a cassette.
I have been pondering the wisdom of buying some sort of box that plugs into the stereo and allows me to play music stored on the PCs. But I can't be shagged doing that either. And why should I bother anyway? We don't even listen to the radio when we are in the lounge room (although that is partly because I haven't really worked out how to use the tuner portion of the stereo. I know that sounds silly, but trust me, when the people at Philips designed out home entertainment unit, they didn't put much thought into ease of operation).
Let me wind back the clock a bit. Around 20 years ago, the home entertainment system consisted of a TV, a VCR, a big amp, a tuner, a record player and a twin deck cassette player. It was all piled up in a big stack, and almost none of it was state of the art. I was a uni student, and it had all been put in a very incoherent fashion. The VCR was quite advanced - it featured a remote control. Except that it was not an infrared unit - it was connected to the VCR by 20 feet of cable, and someone somehow bent the plug and that was the end of the remote. We were too poor to replace it, so for a while, someone had to be delegated to pick their arse up out of the beanbag to change channels, adjust the sound, fast forward and all that.
Then a miracle happened. Mum came to visit, was horrified by all the cobwebs around the place, so she bought me a cobweb sweeper-upper. This hi-tech unit was a broom head on a really long broomstick - about 20 feet actually.
After much diligent practice, we found that it was possible to work almost every control on the entire entertainment system using nothing more than a 20 foot wooden pole (after removing the broom head and throwing it over the back fence). We could even adjust the volume, and that meant twirling a dial.
Now if I could operate a stack of equipment that stood about 5 feet high with a 20 foot long bit of dowel, then surely I should be able to figure out how to drive a home stereo that consists of one "brick", has a proper remote control and actually came with only one set of instructions.
Nope. Next time you are looking at a league table of the top suppliers of home theatre equipment, don't bother looking at the top for Philips. You are looking in the wrong place for a good reason.
Crumble up and die
I have just had one of those God-awful desserts that you find in the freezer at your local supermarket - in this case, an apple crumble. I will not name the brand in case they decide to sue the lawyers on to me, but if they did, I'd just have to counter-sue for false and misleading advertising.
Yes, it had apple in it. I think. It didn't really taste appley. The stuff in the bottom looked like apple, but I can't be sure it was apple. When I cook apple, it does not turn into a completely squishy yellowish mush. Yes, they go mushy, but they still retain some texture.
And the topping. To my way of thinking, a crumble has big crumbs. It has oat flakes in it to give it lots of texture. It might even be lumpy (although that maybe a result of my lazy cooking). The thing that came out of the packet had tiny little crumbs. The were so fine, it was like eating sand. I want lumps - big crummy lumps. When I bite into the crumble, I want something I can chew on - both the crumble and the apple should require some level of mastication. You could have sucked the packet thing through a straw.
When I want an apple crumble, I really should get off my arse and make one. Grabbing one from the shop in a fit of laziness is not a good option.
This is one of those times when I believe that some large multi-national food companies should be burnt to the ground and the land that they stand on sown with salt. It might also be a good idea to line the local roads with crucified food technologists, texture and mouth-feel consultants and marketing executives as a warning to others.
I don't think that is too much to ask in the battle to liberate our taste buds.
Yes, it had apple in it. I think. It didn't really taste appley. The stuff in the bottom looked like apple, but I can't be sure it was apple. When I cook apple, it does not turn into a completely squishy yellowish mush. Yes, they go mushy, but they still retain some texture.
And the topping. To my way of thinking, a crumble has big crumbs. It has oat flakes in it to give it lots of texture. It might even be lumpy (although that maybe a result of my lazy cooking). The thing that came out of the packet had tiny little crumbs. The were so fine, it was like eating sand. I want lumps - big crummy lumps. When I bite into the crumble, I want something I can chew on - both the crumble and the apple should require some level of mastication. You could have sucked the packet thing through a straw.
When I want an apple crumble, I really should get off my arse and make one. Grabbing one from the shop in a fit of laziness is not a good option.
This is one of those times when I believe that some large multi-national food companies should be burnt to the ground and the land that they stand on sown with salt. It might also be a good idea to line the local roads with crucified food technologists, texture and mouth-feel consultants and marketing executives as a warning to others.
I don't think that is too much to ask in the battle to liberate our taste buds.
Clive Owen - as wooden as a fence post
I am trying to watch "King Arthur" on the idiot box tonight. It is quite a chore. Entire forests must have been felled to create Clive Owen. My heading is wrong - he's as wooden as a row of telephone poles.
The rest of the movie is not much better. There's 2 1/2 hours of it. I've got about 90 minutes of it to go. I hope it gets better......
......zzzzzzzzzzz.....
"Gladiator" it is not.
The rest of the movie is not much better. There's 2 1/2 hours of it. I've got about 90 minutes of it to go. I hope it gets better......
......zzzzzzzzzzz.....
"Gladiator" it is not.
Road directory vs GPS
I was trying to escape from a bookstore the other day without spending too much money. I was given "Berlin" for Father's Day - you'd think a fat tome like that would keep the eyeballs busy for at least a few days, but if I see something good in a bookshop, I just have to have it. If enough horses die from the flu, maybe some cheap blinkers will come on the market and I'll be safe for once.
As I was walking around going, "I want that and that and that and that and.." I spotted a big display of street directories. It was about six feet tall, and held directories in a 3x6 stack. I looked it and thought, "..and I don't want that."
After leaving the shop, I started to think, "Who would want that?"
A directory still costs $30 or more, whilst a cheap GPS can be had for four hundred and something dollars. Yes, that's still a big differential, but the price of GPS units is dropping all the time, so I was wondering what will be the price point where people just stop buying paper based directories and the publishers give up printing them?
I am no forecaster, so I don't claim to have a clue. But given the number of sticky sucker things that hold GPS units that I am seeing on windscreens these days, the tipping point can't be that far off. Will the 2007 edition be the last street directory produced?
I doubt it. There will always be cheapskates that will buy a directory for $30 even when the price of a GPS has dropped to $100.
If they ever get that cheap. I understand a large part of the cost these days is the licensing for the maps, so unless Sensis cuts the licensing cost, there will always be a hard floor under the price of a GPS.
Food for thought.
As I was walking around going, "I want that and that and that and that and.." I spotted a big display of street directories. It was about six feet tall, and held directories in a 3x6 stack. I looked it and thought, "..and I don't want that."
After leaving the shop, I started to think, "Who would want that?"
A directory still costs $30 or more, whilst a cheap GPS can be had for four hundred and something dollars. Yes, that's still a big differential, but the price of GPS units is dropping all the time, so I was wondering what will be the price point where people just stop buying paper based directories and the publishers give up printing them?
I am no forecaster, so I don't claim to have a clue. But given the number of sticky sucker things that hold GPS units that I am seeing on windscreens these days, the tipping point can't be that far off. Will the 2007 edition be the last street directory produced?
I doubt it. There will always be cheapskates that will buy a directory for $30 even when the price of a GPS has dropped to $100.
If they ever get that cheap. I understand a large part of the cost these days is the licensing for the maps, so unless Sensis cuts the licensing cost, there will always be a hard floor under the price of a GPS.
Food for thought.
Breakages
If any greenie fanatic ever tries to tell you that bikes are cheaper to run than cars, run them over and roll them into the nearest ditch. They might be "cheap" if you only use them for short trips, like if you work 1km from home. However, if you start to rack up the miles, the bills start to add up too.
Like any mechanical beast, they need to be serviced regularly, and things wear out and break. Anyone who says a bike costs nothing to run has clearly never ridden it past the 1000km mark.
I guess that happens with a lot of bikes. Someone gets enthusiastic, the whole family trots down to Target and everyone gets a two wheeler of some sort. After an initial flurry of riding, they go into the garage and are only ever seen again by spiders and lizards. If you treat the bike like that, then they are very cheap to run, requiring zero maintenance, servicing and parts replacement.
A 10,000km service on the Disco generally sets me back about $1,000. I joked with an auto electrician the other week that every time I drive it into a garage, it costs me $1,000. He looked at me and said, "I wish you had told me that before I made out your bill", which only came to $120. That service involves changing lots of fluids, swapping out all sorts of filters and things and generally leaves a reasonable pile of replaced things filling up the rubbish skip out the back.
I really should get the bike serviced every 3 months. A really basic service costs about $120. A proper service is more like $200 or more. Given that there are no fluids that need replacing (apart from those in my water bottle), no filters to swap out and no shock absorbers or grommets or gaskets or other thingys to degrade, you start to wonder where the money is going. Sometimes, the only things to be replaced are the brake pads, and you can fit the front and rear sets of pads in one hand. One very small hand.
The thing to remember about that is that the distance covered between services is much less. When I did a lot of driving for work, I used to cover at least 6,000km per quarter. On the bike, I am sometimes lucky to cover 600. Yes, I don't have to fill the bike with diesel, but I have to fill my guts with food, and I can tell you, the grocery bills do go up when you start riding over 100km per week. And don't forget the supplements to stop the cramps and the lotions to stop your balls chafing. Walking into a health food shop is a great way to empty the wallet in a hurry.
I don't have to register the bike, but I do buy insurance each year in case I wipe someone out. Bikes also need replacing sooner than cars. My Disco is now entering its 8th year of service, and is about to clock up 170,000km, and it is probably only halfway to the point where I will want to replace it. That will give it a useful life with me of over 300,000km and 15 years on the road. After that, some other idiot will probably drive it for another 20 years.
The bike on the other hand might see out another solid year of service, then it will be replaced with something new. After being pounded over Sydney's potholed goat tracks for four years, it will simply have been beaten to death. Yes, you do see some really old bikes chuntering around from time to time, but I always wonder how many km they have on the clock. It's like when you see some old duck driving around in an original Monaro - garaged since it was bought, driven to the club once a week and no more than 8000km on the clock. Of course it will be in mint condition. My bike is better compared with a taxi.
Then there are all the other things that you have to buy to ride which also wear out. One pair of shorts is getting so worn at the front, you can almost see my nuts through the fabric. My shirts are starting to fray around the shoulders. My gloves are knackered. I had to glue up my shoes the other day. The helmet really needs replacing. My cycling sunglasses have been impacted by so many bugs and low hanging branches, they are scratched to bits. Shoes, shirts, shorts, gloves, helmet and glasses add up to well over a thousand bucks. All that kit needs replacing on an ongoing basis. It is rare for a month to go by without a visit to one bike shop or another to shop for something that has given up the ghost.
I don't give a shit about what it costs, because in the end, I am going to undertake one form of exercise or another, and it is cheaper than going skiing for 2 months a year or taking up offshore sailboat racing. Even walking costs money, since doing a lot of walking wears out shoes and shorts (mine normally go in the crotch). Unless you want to take up nude, barefoot walking. I also don't care as I enjoy it, and it makes me feel good. The endorphin rush from a good ride is worth the expenditure.
Just don't believe some shithead when he says it's cheap - or free.
The point of this whole post is that my front dérailleur went yesterday. That's the thing which changes the front cog from the big one to the little one and vice versa. I hit the lever to change up to the big cog, and it felt a bit sloppy and nothing happened. I didn't think about it, except to hit the lever harder, which produced a gear shift. It still felt really sloppy though.
Then I tried to change down. No dice. The lever just kind of dangled there in front of me, wobbling this way and that, and producing no effect. I had to dismount, fiddle with the dérailleur and change back manually. I still rode into town, since I can survive on just the small front cog. It means a cut in top speed, but I was willing to trade a lower top speed for getting a first hand look at the loonies at the APEC rally.
Now I just have to get the damned thing fixed. I figure the cable has simply warn down to the point where the broken strands of cable are jamming in the cable run and preventing free movement.
What I do know is that I am facing another $100 bill - or more. To change a bloody cable.
Like any mechanical beast, they need to be serviced regularly, and things wear out and break. Anyone who says a bike costs nothing to run has clearly never ridden it past the 1000km mark.
I guess that happens with a lot of bikes. Someone gets enthusiastic, the whole family trots down to Target and everyone gets a two wheeler of some sort. After an initial flurry of riding, they go into the garage and are only ever seen again by spiders and lizards. If you treat the bike like that, then they are very cheap to run, requiring zero maintenance, servicing and parts replacement.
A 10,000km service on the Disco generally sets me back about $1,000. I joked with an auto electrician the other week that every time I drive it into a garage, it costs me $1,000. He looked at me and said, "I wish you had told me that before I made out your bill", which only came to $120. That service involves changing lots of fluids, swapping out all sorts of filters and things and generally leaves a reasonable pile of replaced things filling up the rubbish skip out the back.
I really should get the bike serviced every 3 months. A really basic service costs about $120. A proper service is more like $200 or more. Given that there are no fluids that need replacing (apart from those in my water bottle), no filters to swap out and no shock absorbers or grommets or gaskets or other thingys to degrade, you start to wonder where the money is going. Sometimes, the only things to be replaced are the brake pads, and you can fit the front and rear sets of pads in one hand. One very small hand.
The thing to remember about that is that the distance covered between services is much less. When I did a lot of driving for work, I used to cover at least 6,000km per quarter. On the bike, I am sometimes lucky to cover 600. Yes, I don't have to fill the bike with diesel, but I have to fill my guts with food, and I can tell you, the grocery bills do go up when you start riding over 100km per week. And don't forget the supplements to stop the cramps and the lotions to stop your balls chafing. Walking into a health food shop is a great way to empty the wallet in a hurry.
I don't have to register the bike, but I do buy insurance each year in case I wipe someone out. Bikes also need replacing sooner than cars. My Disco is now entering its 8th year of service, and is about to clock up 170,000km, and it is probably only halfway to the point where I will want to replace it. That will give it a useful life with me of over 300,000km and 15 years on the road. After that, some other idiot will probably drive it for another 20 years.
The bike on the other hand might see out another solid year of service, then it will be replaced with something new. After being pounded over Sydney's potholed goat tracks for four years, it will simply have been beaten to death. Yes, you do see some really old bikes chuntering around from time to time, but I always wonder how many km they have on the clock. It's like when you see some old duck driving around in an original Monaro - garaged since it was bought, driven to the club once a week and no more than 8000km on the clock. Of course it will be in mint condition. My bike is better compared with a taxi.
Then there are all the other things that you have to buy to ride which also wear out. One pair of shorts is getting so worn at the front, you can almost see my nuts through the fabric. My shirts are starting to fray around the shoulders. My gloves are knackered. I had to glue up my shoes the other day. The helmet really needs replacing. My cycling sunglasses have been impacted by so many bugs and low hanging branches, they are scratched to bits. Shoes, shirts, shorts, gloves, helmet and glasses add up to well over a thousand bucks. All that kit needs replacing on an ongoing basis. It is rare for a month to go by without a visit to one bike shop or another to shop for something that has given up the ghost.
I don't give a shit about what it costs, because in the end, I am going to undertake one form of exercise or another, and it is cheaper than going skiing for 2 months a year or taking up offshore sailboat racing. Even walking costs money, since doing a lot of walking wears out shoes and shorts (mine normally go in the crotch). Unless you want to take up nude, barefoot walking. I also don't care as I enjoy it, and it makes me feel good. The endorphin rush from a good ride is worth the expenditure.
Just don't believe some shithead when he says it's cheap - or free.
The point of this whole post is that my front dérailleur went yesterday. That's the thing which changes the front cog from the big one to the little one and vice versa. I hit the lever to change up to the big cog, and it felt a bit sloppy and nothing happened. I didn't think about it, except to hit the lever harder, which produced a gear shift. It still felt really sloppy though.
Then I tried to change down. No dice. The lever just kind of dangled there in front of me, wobbling this way and that, and producing no effect. I had to dismount, fiddle with the dérailleur and change back manually. I still rode into town, since I can survive on just the small front cog. It means a cut in top speed, but I was willing to trade a lower top speed for getting a first hand look at the loonies at the APEC rally.
Now I just have to get the damned thing fixed. I figure the cable has simply warn down to the point where the broken strands of cable are jamming in the cable run and preventing free movement.
What I do know is that I am facing another $100 bill - or more. To change a bloody cable.
Modernising toy soldiers
As I was sorting through the box of plastic soldiers looking for a Habib-lookalike, I started to ponder how little they changed since I was a kid. I paid $20 for a tin of the little buggers at the Canberra markets last year, and junior has been rapt with them ever since. Now that we have a sandpit, he can build some great battlefields that don't involve rearranging the lounge room.
The above photo is a representative sample of what we got.
It is now time for Tamiya to enter the 21st century. I am not talking about something along these lines. The problem with producing a set of modern US infrantry is this - who are they going to fight? Where are the fedayeen, the suicide bombers, the exploding children and the torture chambers and the men dressed in burkas?
I'm not sure how Tamiya is going to handle that one. Might be best if they discontinued anything from the period after about 1953.
The above photo is a representative sample of what we got.
- A British tommy with mine detector (WWII)
- A tommy from a different set with a flame thrower (had to put that one in there to please some of the members of the peanut gallery)
- A soldier of unknown nationality from the Napoleonic wars (I am not that good at identifying uniforms from that era - comments welcome)
- Another pom, probably a Commando (WWII)
- A nip (WWII)
- Another pom, with Vickers (also to satisfy the peanut gallery that like that sort of thing), and
- a sausage eating surrender monkey
It is now time for Tamiya to enter the 21st century. I am not talking about something along these lines. The problem with producing a set of modern US infrantry is this - who are they going to fight? Where are the fedayeen, the suicide bombers, the exploding children and the torture chambers and the men dressed in burkas?
I'm not sure how Tamiya is going to handle that one. Might be best if they discontinued anything from the period after about 1953.
Habib
Habib in his new uniform.
Photo taken in the province of Apacketofsandinapan (ie, the sandpit in the backyard).
(If you are scratching your head and wondering what the hell I am on about, it's an in-joke).
Photo taken in the province of Apacketofsandinapan (ie, the sandpit in the backyard).
(If you are scratching your head and wondering what the hell I am on about, it's an in-joke).
Mussels
Right, normal service is resuming after a couple of days or observing barmy bedlamites in their native environment (I had to look up a thesaurus to come up with those new terms). I felt a bit like David Attenborough. Perhaps I should have swapped the bike helmet for a pith helmet? It might have helped to get me in the mood for observing without being judgemental.
Nah.
To the topic of the day - and a very important one at that. Lunch.
I am trying to eat seafood on the weekends, since for some psychological reason, I think it is harder to prepare than a steak, and thus more time is required to kick back, relax and grill the fish.
That's complete crap of course. Fish takes about 1/10th of the time to cook as steak, and there really is no difference between lighting the BBQ to do a chop as to do a salmon steak. My only other explanation is the smell - our rubbish collection is on Tuesday morning, so the less time the prawn shells and so on stay in the bin, the better.
I have given up putting prawn shells in the freezer, as I always forget about them. I cleaned out the freezer a while ago and found a bag of them from last summer lurking in the back.
Today I decided to cook mussels for no good reason at all. I haven't cooked them in at least 5 years. Don't ask me why. I just went off them. Or perhaps I went off the idea of having to clean and de-beard the little buggers. I used to buy 3 or 4 kilos of them to feed the boys, and then had to spend half the afternoon standing over the sink ripping hairy bits out until my fingers bled. Some people use pliers. I just gave up.
Then I spotted this in a seafood shop today - "live pot ready mussels". The blurb on the packet claims that they are all alive, cleaned, unbroken and de-bearded. That sounded too good to be true, particularly for twelve bucks a kilo.
I had to mull over one big decision in the shop - to buy one bag or two. It's been that long since I cooked them, I could not remember how many would be required to adequately feed two people.
The claim was about 95% correct. One had a beard and three were broken. Apart from that, none were open when they went into the pot and they all opened up after a few minutes of cooking. That has never happened to me before.
In the pot is one leek, chopped and softened in butter and olive oil along with a clove of garlic.
Once the leek had browned a bit, I threw in one finely diced tomato. Well, it wasn't even one tomato. It was a left over in the fridge after I sliced a bit off for a sandwich yesterday. That was followed by some lemon thyme from the garden, and a good splash of the Chardonnay on the right. It's an Evans & Tate. I bought some the other day because I heard they had gone into recievership. That might mean that they will be flogging off their stuff cheaply in order to raise some cash.
I have included this photo as all cooking shows or cook books include at least one wanky photo of a bench covered in fruit and vegetables laid out in an attractive fashion. This is simply what the bench top looks like after I have done the shopping, and before I can be bothered to put it away where it belongs.
After 10 minutes of steaming, I threw in about half a carton of plain cream, let it warm up and then served it up. The bowl on the left has been garnished with coriander, because it is my bowl and junior hates the stuff. It is also well sprinkled with cracked pepper, since he doesn't like that either.
Here it is in close up.
We ate in the backyard, using the cooking pot to hold the empty shells.
In case you think the tablecloth is a bit unusual, it's where we try and feed the monkey. He can make as much mess as he likes when he is eating. Then we wipe down the tablecloth (it's plastic), strip him off, take him inside and toss him in the bath tub.
It took nine minutes (by the timestamps on these photos) to go from bowls ariving on table to this:
Normally, I would also throw in chilli, but junior also has an aversion to that. I am not going to throw it in after everything is cooked. I will either throw it in with the garlic at the start or not at all.
I also had thoughts about throwing in basil, but gave up on that idea as our basil plants currently have about 4 leaves each on them. I'm glad I didn't - it didn't need it. The leek though was smashing - I'm never going to use onion again. I'm also glad that only 2/3 of a tomato went in - you can go overboard with tomato and throw in too many. Moderation is what we need. An elegant sufficiency will suffice.
Was one kilo enough?
Yes. I am stuffed. I am sitting here almost with my belly rubbing up against the keyboard. Might have to go for a ride later to work it off.
Nah.
To the topic of the day - and a very important one at that. Lunch.
I am trying to eat seafood on the weekends, since for some psychological reason, I think it is harder to prepare than a steak, and thus more time is required to kick back, relax and grill the fish.
That's complete crap of course. Fish takes about 1/10th of the time to cook as steak, and there really is no difference between lighting the BBQ to do a chop as to do a salmon steak. My only other explanation is the smell - our rubbish collection is on Tuesday morning, so the less time the prawn shells and so on stay in the bin, the better.
I have given up putting prawn shells in the freezer, as I always forget about them. I cleaned out the freezer a while ago and found a bag of them from last summer lurking in the back.
Today I decided to cook mussels for no good reason at all. I haven't cooked them in at least 5 years. Don't ask me why. I just went off them. Or perhaps I went off the idea of having to clean and de-beard the little buggers. I used to buy 3 or 4 kilos of them to feed the boys, and then had to spend half the afternoon standing over the sink ripping hairy bits out until my fingers bled. Some people use pliers. I just gave up.
Then I spotted this in a seafood shop today - "live pot ready mussels". The blurb on the packet claims that they are all alive, cleaned, unbroken and de-bearded. That sounded too good to be true, particularly for twelve bucks a kilo.
I had to mull over one big decision in the shop - to buy one bag or two. It's been that long since I cooked them, I could not remember how many would be required to adequately feed two people.
The claim was about 95% correct. One had a beard and three were broken. Apart from that, none were open when they went into the pot and they all opened up after a few minutes of cooking. That has never happened to me before.
In the pot is one leek, chopped and softened in butter and olive oil along with a clove of garlic.
Once the leek had browned a bit, I threw in one finely diced tomato. Well, it wasn't even one tomato. It was a left over in the fridge after I sliced a bit off for a sandwich yesterday. That was followed by some lemon thyme from the garden, and a good splash of the Chardonnay on the right. It's an Evans & Tate. I bought some the other day because I heard they had gone into recievership. That might mean that they will be flogging off their stuff cheaply in order to raise some cash.
I have included this photo as all cooking shows or cook books include at least one wanky photo of a bench covered in fruit and vegetables laid out in an attractive fashion. This is simply what the bench top looks like after I have done the shopping, and before I can be bothered to put it away where it belongs.
After 10 minutes of steaming, I threw in about half a carton of plain cream, let it warm up and then served it up. The bowl on the left has been garnished with coriander, because it is my bowl and junior hates the stuff. It is also well sprinkled with cracked pepper, since he doesn't like that either.
Here it is in close up.
We ate in the backyard, using the cooking pot to hold the empty shells.
In case you think the tablecloth is a bit unusual, it's where we try and feed the monkey. He can make as much mess as he likes when he is eating. Then we wipe down the tablecloth (it's plastic), strip him off, take him inside and toss him in the bath tub.
It took nine minutes (by the timestamps on these photos) to go from bowls ariving on table to this:
Normally, I would also throw in chilli, but junior also has an aversion to that. I am not going to throw it in after everything is cooked. I will either throw it in with the garlic at the start or not at all.
I also had thoughts about throwing in basil, but gave up on that idea as our basil plants currently have about 4 leaves each on them. I'm glad I didn't - it didn't need it. The leek though was smashing - I'm never going to use onion again. I'm also glad that only 2/3 of a tomato went in - you can go overboard with tomato and throw in too many. Moderation is what we need. An elegant sufficiency will suffice.
Was one kilo enough?
Yes. I am stuffed. I am sitting here almost with my belly rubbing up against the keyboard. Might have to go for a ride later to work it off.
Saturday, 8 September 2007
APEC and crap reporting
According to the SMH today:
"A massive police presence contained the largely good-natured crowd that had included families and children."
Included families and children? What utter rot. I had a good look at the march and I spotted a handful of kids. I saw one young kid on the back of a bike (ie, aged about 4) and a couple of kids maybe around the 10 year old mark. That was it. There might have been one pram, but I could be mistaken. It's more likely there were zero prams.
In a crowd that was supposed to have reached 10,000, that is not a lot of families.
It's like saying "the Collingwood football club includes supporters who are human". Yes, there is the odd human in there, but not many. It's just not worth mentioning. It is a great way to give you a warm and fuzzy feeling about the march though. "Families" sounds so homely and peaceful. Goebbels would be proud. You can just imagine the flower be-decked children frolicking in the park and uttering foolish but beautiful, childish thoughts like "Is Gaia real?"
As for "families", can you call a married couple with no kids a family? Or does a family have to include children? Am I being a bit old fashioned here? Does it count if say a grandmother turns up with her daughter? Is that a family?
I live in an area that is undergoing a major baby boom, so I know what "families" look like. You can't navigate your way around our local supermarket at any time of the day or night without colliding with a pram, a youngster surfing on a shopping trolley or a mum carrying a baby in one of those wrap around shawl things.
"Families" means going to the park and seeing the grass covered in picnic rugs, and every picnic rug having one or more prams parked next to it.
"Families" means taking the little monkey up to the local park on a sunny morning and running into 6 or 7 mums who have also taken their little monsters out to work off some energy on the monkey bars. It means having to take your turn at the swings.
"Families" means walking down the street and noticing that every male over the age of 30, even if he has no kids in tow, has vomit/yoghurt/spilt milk/vegemite/peanut paste/chocolate/tomato sauce/baked beans/banana smeared over one or more items of clothing. Blobs of food or drink on the shoulder are a dead give away.
I didn't see anything like that in Hyde Park today.
Of course the definition of family has to be adjusted for the inner city, so the lesbian couple with the poodle have to count as one family. The trans gender sculptor with a goldfish has to qualify as another.
Who wants to take kids to something like this anyway? If they are two years old, all they want to do is run around and cause mischief. If they are older, they'll get all pouty and repeat endlessly "I'm bored. Can we go home and watch 'The Simpsons'?"
The best way to find kids is to look for people hunched over a mobile phone, manically playing a game of some sort, or texting their friends with "I'm bored stupid. Let's go hang out at the mall after this crap is over."
Anyone insane enough to take kids to an event where there is a threat of violence, and where they are going to be bored stupid by shrill, puffed-up windbags, deserves to receive a knock on the door from DOCS and the removal of their offspring due to child abuse.
"A massive police presence contained the largely good-natured crowd that had included families and children."
Included families and children? What utter rot. I had a good look at the march and I spotted a handful of kids. I saw one young kid on the back of a bike (ie, aged about 4) and a couple of kids maybe around the 10 year old mark. That was it. There might have been one pram, but I could be mistaken. It's more likely there were zero prams.
In a crowd that was supposed to have reached 10,000, that is not a lot of families.
It's like saying "the Collingwood football club includes supporters who are human". Yes, there is the odd human in there, but not many. It's just not worth mentioning. It is a great way to give you a warm and fuzzy feeling about the march though. "Families" sounds so homely and peaceful. Goebbels would be proud. You can just imagine the flower be-decked children frolicking in the park and uttering foolish but beautiful, childish thoughts like "Is Gaia real?"
As for "families", can you call a married couple with no kids a family? Or does a family have to include children? Am I being a bit old fashioned here? Does it count if say a grandmother turns up with her daughter? Is that a family?
I live in an area that is undergoing a major baby boom, so I know what "families" look like. You can't navigate your way around our local supermarket at any time of the day or night without colliding with a pram, a youngster surfing on a shopping trolley or a mum carrying a baby in one of those wrap around shawl things.
"Families" means going to the park and seeing the grass covered in picnic rugs, and every picnic rug having one or more prams parked next to it.
"Families" means taking the little monkey up to the local park on a sunny morning and running into 6 or 7 mums who have also taken their little monsters out to work off some energy on the monkey bars. It means having to take your turn at the swings.
"Families" means walking down the street and noticing that every male over the age of 30, even if he has no kids in tow, has vomit/yoghurt/spilt milk/vegemite/peanut paste/chocolate/tomato sauce/baked beans/banana smeared over one or more items of clothing. Blobs of food or drink on the shoulder are a dead give away.
I didn't see anything like that in Hyde Park today.
Of course the definition of family has to be adjusted for the inner city, so the lesbian couple with the poodle have to count as one family. The trans gender sculptor with a goldfish has to qualify as another.
Who wants to take kids to something like this anyway? If they are two years old, all they want to do is run around and cause mischief. If they are older, they'll get all pouty and repeat endlessly "I'm bored. Can we go home and watch 'The Simpsons'?"
The best way to find kids is to look for people hunched over a mobile phone, manically playing a game of some sort, or texting their friends with "I'm bored stupid. Let's go hang out at the mall after this crap is over."
Anyone insane enough to take kids to an event where there is a threat of violence, and where they are going to be bored stupid by shrill, puffed-up windbags, deserves to receive a knock on the door from DOCS and the removal of their offspring due to child abuse.
Pathetic public speaking and the roots of media bias
Although my camera can hold about 18 minutes of video, I only shot about 2 minutes worth today at the anti-APEC rally. That was partly due to the lack of interesting things to shoot, but mainly because I found the first speech so dreadful to listen to, that I couldn't face having 10 minutes of it in my camera to listen to again. I got about 55 seconds of a screeching haridan and then gave up. I tried shooting some more a few minutes later, but gave up and went home. It was awful. I have posted the 55 seconds worth below.
The content of the speech is bollocks. The delivery - well, put it this way. I don't think she practiced it in the mirror every day for a week. The voice could cut glass. I'm thankful I was standing behind the speakers rather than in front of them. Listening to her at fully amplified volume might have done terrible damage to my innards.
I love how she thinks that Australia and the US (rich robber countries) are denying the Iraqis their democratic rights, and that it is ridiculous for John Howard to think that they want peace and freedom!
The organisers are claiming that 10,000 people turned up. I want you to think about that number whilst you listen to this speech - but listen to the noise of the crowd. Does that sound like 10,000 people to you? Been to a footy match (any code you like) lately where there has been a gate of 8,000 to 10,000 and heard such a wimpy response from the punters?
Pubs containing 300 people on a Friday night are noisier than this lot. The noise levels to me suggest that either:
The exact opposite of this ranting harpie. If she was coaching a football team (assuming that she would indulge in anything so pedestrian as organised sport, which is just organised violence really) her team would be sitting at the bottom of the ladder. The poor sods in it would be those that would be relegated at the end of the season.
I should have filmed the entire thing and then marketed it as "Tips on public speaking - things not to do". It would be nice to make a dollar out of a socialist gorgon.
What really annoys me now is that the media never broadcast fruitloop speeches like this one. If they did, the average punters out there would either turn off their plasma TV's or quickly change the channel rather than face the horror that is the green/peace movement. The media is not showing us the whole, unvarnished truth. I guess that is why the media won't show the reality of these rallys, as it would be terminal for business. A complete ratings disaster - even for the ABC. A lot of luvvies might watch the ABC, but they are "soft" luvvies in the main. They think they are green, but they're not. They're wanna-be's. They have no idea what the reality of the green/peace movement is all about. They just have a rosy image in their mind. If they saw this, they'd probably start voting Liberal in a flash.
As for bias, I know that I am biased. I make no bones about it. A person who is not biased is someone too weak to hold an opinion of their own. My biases reared their ugly head today - I could not bear to stay at this rally one minute longer because what I was hearing and seeing clashed so badly with my core beliefs. I simply shutdown, ignored it and split.
The thing is, I now understand how an organisation like the ABC can be so biased, yet be so blinkered as to believe that they are not. The human mind is very good at shutting out the things it does not want to see or hear. That makes it so easy to put together a story by ignoring and discarding any information that, to put it mildly, gives you the shits. I have biased this whole post by simply not recording the entire speech by this raving lunatic. She might have had something useful or interesting or challenging to say, but I didn't want to know about it. It's so easy for journalists to be listening to a politician talking and to just close their ears to anything that they think is crap, and to only include that which makes their subject look good or bad. It's a fact of life - no use worrying about it too much.
The only solution that I can think of is to recognise that we are all biased and to have two journalists work on all stories that have a political bent (ie, just about anything except sport). Each gets to put an equal amount of footage into the story, and that's that. The viewer then gets to decide which half of the story suits their preconceptions, and everyone is happy. Or at least equally unhappy.
The content of the speech is bollocks. The delivery - well, put it this way. I don't think she practiced it in the mirror every day for a week. The voice could cut glass. I'm thankful I was standing behind the speakers rather than in front of them. Listening to her at fully amplified volume might have done terrible damage to my innards.
I love how she thinks that Australia and the US (rich robber countries) are denying the Iraqis their democratic rights, and that it is ridiculous for John Howard to think that they want peace and freedom!
The organisers are claiming that 10,000 people turned up. I want you to think about that number whilst you listen to this speech - but listen to the noise of the crowd. Does that sound like 10,000 people to you? Been to a footy match (any code you like) lately where there has been a gate of 8,000 to 10,000 and heard such a wimpy response from the punters?
Pubs containing 300 people on a Friday night are noisier than this lot. The noise levels to me suggest that either:
- there are very few people here, or
- they think the speech is utter crap, and are responding appropriately
The exact opposite of this ranting harpie. If she was coaching a football team (assuming that she would indulge in anything so pedestrian as organised sport, which is just organised violence really) her team would be sitting at the bottom of the ladder. The poor sods in it would be those that would be relegated at the end of the season.
I should have filmed the entire thing and then marketed it as "Tips on public speaking - things not to do". It would be nice to make a dollar out of a socialist gorgon.
What really annoys me now is that the media never broadcast fruitloop speeches like this one. If they did, the average punters out there would either turn off their plasma TV's or quickly change the channel rather than face the horror that is the green/peace movement. The media is not showing us the whole, unvarnished truth. I guess that is why the media won't show the reality of these rallys, as it would be terminal for business. A complete ratings disaster - even for the ABC. A lot of luvvies might watch the ABC, but they are "soft" luvvies in the main. They think they are green, but they're not. They're wanna-be's. They have no idea what the reality of the green/peace movement is all about. They just have a rosy image in their mind. If they saw this, they'd probably start voting Liberal in a flash.
As for bias, I know that I am biased. I make no bones about it. A person who is not biased is someone too weak to hold an opinion of their own. My biases reared their ugly head today - I could not bear to stay at this rally one minute longer because what I was hearing and seeing clashed so badly with my core beliefs. I simply shutdown, ignored it and split.
The thing is, I now understand how an organisation like the ABC can be so biased, yet be so blinkered as to believe that they are not. The human mind is very good at shutting out the things it does not want to see or hear. That makes it so easy to put together a story by ignoring and discarding any information that, to put it mildly, gives you the shits. I have biased this whole post by simply not recording the entire speech by this raving lunatic. She might have had something useful or interesting or challenging to say, but I didn't want to know about it. It's so easy for journalists to be listening to a politician talking and to just close their ears to anything that they think is crap, and to only include that which makes their subject look good or bad. It's a fact of life - no use worrying about it too much.
The only solution that I can think of is to recognise that we are all biased and to have two journalists work on all stories that have a political bent (ie, just about anything except sport). Each gets to put an equal amount of footage into the story, and that's that. The viewer then gets to decide which half of the story suits their preconceptions, and everyone is happy. Or at least equally unhappy.
APEC nutbag
This is only the second video that I have posted to my blog, so bear with me if it is rubbish.
Although this video is of a complete fruitloop - someone that is clearly off their nut on drugs, they are not totally representative of those that turned up today. I'd say the crowd was 10% insane, 90% close to normal. The media of course concentrates on the fruitbats, who are really just a bunch of serial exhibitionists. If they weren't turning up at rallies in stupid outfits and prancing in front of the cameras, they'd be standing outside kindergartens in raincoats flashing kiddies. Or nuns.
Whilst the fruitbats are not representative of those that attend, they are representative of those that organise these things and speak. The people standing on the speakers truck today were a collection of... I don't know what. They must have popped through a wormhole from a parallel universe, because I certainly don't recognise the world that they inhabit.
The only speaker that I listened to though reminded me very much of the person in this video. It could have even been the person shown here, but I doubt it. This nutbag is much more coherent, lucid and has obviously put more thought into their arguments.
Although this video is of a complete fruitloop - someone that is clearly off their nut on drugs, they are not totally representative of those that turned up today. I'd say the crowd was 10% insane, 90% close to normal. The media of course concentrates on the fruitbats, who are really just a bunch of serial exhibitionists. If they weren't turning up at rallies in stupid outfits and prancing in front of the cameras, they'd be standing outside kindergartens in raincoats flashing kiddies. Or nuns.
Whilst the fruitbats are not representative of those that attend, they are representative of those that organise these things and speak. The people standing on the speakers truck today were a collection of... I don't know what. They must have popped through a wormhole from a parallel universe, because I certainly don't recognise the world that they inhabit.
The only speaker that I listened to though reminded me very much of the person in this video. It could have even been the person shown here, but I doubt it. This nutbag is much more coherent, lucid and has obviously put more thought into their arguments.
ABC vs Channel 7 in the Gaia-raping stakes
This short 15 second video shows two TV broadcast vans at the anti-APEC rally today. One has the engine running all day, spewing noxious diesel fumes that choke baby fur seals to death and cause the planet to overheat to such an extent that polar bears have been recently seen spontaneously combusting.
The other has the engine switched off.
Funny that the ABC, which made such a fuss and bother about screening "The Great Global Warming Swindle" should be the culprit here.
I wonder if Tony Jones was inside the van, enjoying the nice cool air conditioning.....
The other has the engine switched off.
Funny that the ABC, which made such a fuss and bother about screening "The Great Global Warming Swindle" should be the culprit here.
I wonder if Tony Jones was inside the van, enjoying the nice cool air conditioning.....
Gaia hates me
When I went into town yesterday, it looked like it wouldn't rain, so I dressed and prepared for a ride without rain.
It pissed down.
So today, since it looked like it was going to piss down, I prepared for a wet ride.
It was overcast, but otherwise dry.
Obviously, I need to stop giving Nazi salutes to greenies.
It pissed down.
So today, since it looked like it was going to piss down, I prepared for a wet ride.
It was overcast, but otherwise dry.
Obviously, I need to stop giving Nazi salutes to greenies.
Starbucks and globalisation in general
I am writing in reverse order about my day. This is about the ride home from the APEC rally.
Once I got over the bridge at Darling Harbour, I spotted a Starbucks and decided this was a good time for a coffee - especially a coffee from a voracious multi-national, even if it does serve fair trade muck from time to time.
I should have been dissuaded by this sign out the front. Who on earth wrecks a perfectly good macchiato by putting caramel in it? Who even dreams up stuff like that?
They'll be the first up agains the wall when the revolution comes....
Here we have a Starbucks coffee shop that is not on fire, does not have smashed windows, and is open to serve customers.
The Starbucks even has three other globalised food joints next door - a sushi place, a wok joint and of course, the Golden Arches. I am looking forward to hearing a lecture about the evils of globalisation from someone that is sitting down to a big meal of sushi, or chowing down on some chow-mein.
Here is my coffee, which cost $3.15. That's 85 cents more than I paid at Pane e Vino. Or maybe 65 cents. I forget. What I do know is that for less money, Pane e Vino, like most cafes, makes much better coffee than Starbucks. This little tub of brown stuff was completely bitter and crap. And to add insult to injury, it was a "tall macchiato". How do you create a "tall" macchiato? The bleeding thing is only supposed to be about 1.5 inches from top to bottom - that's not tall in my book. A macchiato is supposed to be short - and the shorter the better.
As I sat there sipping my completely hideous coffee, a stealth chopper flew by. It must have been stealthy because, look at my photo - you can barely see it. I figure that the cloaking device must have been compromised.
Now that I have taken off my tinfoil, I can state that the only reason this photo is blurry is because it was taken on maximum zoom (10x on my Canon Ixus) and the Ixus takes totally rubbish photos if you zoom anymore than 3x. I don't know why they bother with telling you it can zoom to 10x. Canon must have the same dickheads working in their marketing department as Starbucks. I love the camera, but I hate the zoom function. I almost never use it if I can help it.
"Hello dear, what did you do at work today?"
"I thought up a completly useless feature to list on the front of the box containing our latest product!"
"Well done dear. You are a credit to the human race. Innovation is what drives society forwards. What does this feature do?"
"Nothing. Well, at least nothing useful. But all our competitors list it as a feature on their product, so we have to list it on ours."
"Do their features work?"
"No. But once one of them started listing it in order to gain an advantage over the rest, we all had to include it. I tell you what, the poor buggers in the labs had to work overtime to get that feature working to the point where we could include it without being sued for misrepresentation."
"That's nice dear. How did the job interview at Stabucks go today?"
"It was hard. They made me sit down and think of two new coffees on the spot!"
"What did you come up with?"
"Tuna flavoured latte and an extra double-tall yak's milk flat white infused with lemon."
"Will anyone ever drink that?"
"There is a core population of poseurs that will drink anything we produce. They won't just drink plain old coffee like the plebs do."
"Well, I hope you get the job. As I keep on telling you, I think the world is ready for goat's milk latte."
There are times I wish for an old SLR camera with say a 300mm lens on it for the long distance work, but then I think about the problems of stuffing such a camera into the elastic pocket on the back of my cycling shirt. You may succeed in getting it in, after a great deal of struggle and strife, but I can guarantee that you will never get it out.
Do my legs look fat in this black Lycra stuff?
I also decided that I would pass the time by photographing everyone that went past me on a bike. I had passed dozens of bikes going into town, and even passed a good handful or more just crossing the bridge.
I sat there for about 10 minutes, even making some phone calls to keep me busy, and this is how many cyclists I saw.
Zero.
I very nearly didn't make it home in one piece. I went into the bus parking area of the National Maritime Museum, which is just next to Darling Harbour, and almost got taken out by this boom gate. I just didn't see it - it might as well have been piano wire stretched across the road.
As I stood there, rather shakily, taking this photo of the demon boom gate, the speaker on the pole across the road started talking to me. It was saying, "This is security, what do you want?" and that was repeated time and again. I had obviously tripped some kind of sensor when I almost decapitated myself on the gate.
I figured that I had probably sparked off some sort of alert, so I packed away the camera and hotfooted it out of there.
Here's a car carrier coming in to whatever this dock is called just under the ANZAC Bridge. The dock, or wharf, is covered in Gaia-rapers from one end to the other. Light trucks and vans beloved by small business - the engine of economic growth. And here is another shipload of them coming in. I thought that was a perfect endcap to the day.
Until I had almost made it home. That's when I just about ran into these three. What is it about women, when out for a walk in a group, that makes them want to fill the available pathway from one side to the other? This is a shared bike/walking path, so I am quite entitled to come up behind them and yell obscenities at them. I'm too nice to do that - but I can feel another letter to the local paper brewing within me.
Once I got over the bridge at Darling Harbour, I spotted a Starbucks and decided this was a good time for a coffee - especially a coffee from a voracious multi-national, even if it does serve fair trade muck from time to time.
I should have been dissuaded by this sign out the front. Who on earth wrecks a perfectly good macchiato by putting caramel in it? Who even dreams up stuff like that?
They'll be the first up agains the wall when the revolution comes....
Here we have a Starbucks coffee shop that is not on fire, does not have smashed windows, and is open to serve customers.
The Starbucks even has three other globalised food joints next door - a sushi place, a wok joint and of course, the Golden Arches. I am looking forward to hearing a lecture about the evils of globalisation from someone that is sitting down to a big meal of sushi, or chowing down on some chow-mein.
Here is my coffee, which cost $3.15. That's 85 cents more than I paid at Pane e Vino. Or maybe 65 cents. I forget. What I do know is that for less money, Pane e Vino, like most cafes, makes much better coffee than Starbucks. This little tub of brown stuff was completely bitter and crap. And to add insult to injury, it was a "tall macchiato". How do you create a "tall" macchiato? The bleeding thing is only supposed to be about 1.5 inches from top to bottom - that's not tall in my book. A macchiato is supposed to be short - and the shorter the better.
As I sat there sipping my completely hideous coffee, a stealth chopper flew by. It must have been stealthy because, look at my photo - you can barely see it. I figure that the cloaking device must have been compromised.
Now that I have taken off my tinfoil, I can state that the only reason this photo is blurry is because it was taken on maximum zoom (10x on my Canon Ixus) and the Ixus takes totally rubbish photos if you zoom anymore than 3x. I don't know why they bother with telling you it can zoom to 10x. Canon must have the same dickheads working in their marketing department as Starbucks. I love the camera, but I hate the zoom function. I almost never use it if I can help it.
"Hello dear, what did you do at work today?"
"I thought up a completly useless feature to list on the front of the box containing our latest product!"
"Well done dear. You are a credit to the human race. Innovation is what drives society forwards. What does this feature do?"
"Nothing. Well, at least nothing useful. But all our competitors list it as a feature on their product, so we have to list it on ours."
"Do their features work?"
"No. But once one of them started listing it in order to gain an advantage over the rest, we all had to include it. I tell you what, the poor buggers in the labs had to work overtime to get that feature working to the point where we could include it without being sued for misrepresentation."
"That's nice dear. How did the job interview at Stabucks go today?"
"It was hard. They made me sit down and think of two new coffees on the spot!"
"What did you come up with?"
"Tuna flavoured latte and an extra double-tall yak's milk flat white infused with lemon."
"Will anyone ever drink that?"
"There is a core population of poseurs that will drink anything we produce. They won't just drink plain old coffee like the plebs do."
"Well, I hope you get the job. As I keep on telling you, I think the world is ready for goat's milk latte."
There are times I wish for an old SLR camera with say a 300mm lens on it for the long distance work, but then I think about the problems of stuffing such a camera into the elastic pocket on the back of my cycling shirt. You may succeed in getting it in, after a great deal of struggle and strife, but I can guarantee that you will never get it out.
Do my legs look fat in this black Lycra stuff?
I also decided that I would pass the time by photographing everyone that went past me on a bike. I had passed dozens of bikes going into town, and even passed a good handful or more just crossing the bridge.
I sat there for about 10 minutes, even making some phone calls to keep me busy, and this is how many cyclists I saw.
Zero.
I very nearly didn't make it home in one piece. I went into the bus parking area of the National Maritime Museum, which is just next to Darling Harbour, and almost got taken out by this boom gate. I just didn't see it - it might as well have been piano wire stretched across the road.
As I stood there, rather shakily, taking this photo of the demon boom gate, the speaker on the pole across the road started talking to me. It was saying, "This is security, what do you want?" and that was repeated time and again. I had obviously tripped some kind of sensor when I almost decapitated myself on the gate.
I figured that I had probably sparked off some sort of alert, so I packed away the camera and hotfooted it out of there.
Here's a car carrier coming in to whatever this dock is called just under the ANZAC Bridge. The dock, or wharf, is covered in Gaia-rapers from one end to the other. Light trucks and vans beloved by small business - the engine of economic growth. And here is another shipload of them coming in. I thought that was a perfect endcap to the day.
Until I had almost made it home. That's when I just about ran into these three. What is it about women, when out for a walk in a group, that makes them want to fill the available pathway from one side to the other? This is a shared bike/walking path, so I am quite entitled to come up behind them and yell obscenities at them. I'm too nice to do that - but I can feel another letter to the local paper brewing within me.
Goats in boats?
Whilst waiting for the bridge to close, I spotted a police boat coming into Darling Harbour. It soon became apparent that it, and another boat, were there to escort the gin palace on the right. I have no idea who was on board, but I spotted one TV crew on the back doing interviews.
I'd like one of these black things.
I'd like one of these black things.
Departing APEC
Why is it that even in the midst of a protest that is ostensibly about global warming, and thus using transport that doesn't guzzle petrol, there are always fucking fuckwits that stand in the cycle lane? I fucking hate these people. I purposely took this photo with the stencil of the bike on the road clearly visible. If people are too fucking idiotic to watch where they are going and their brains are unable to process the fact that they are standing somewhere stupid, then they all deserve to be run over by a bio-diesel powered bus.
I generally try to clip these dickheads on the arse with the tip of my handlebars as I go burning past them. The yelps of shock and pain are always a pleasure to listen to.
The only vehicles whose presence made sense to me - something for sucking grease out of grease traps. This should have been used to extract the crap from between the ears of some of the people in the park. Unforunately, it doesn't seem to have been cranked up at all.
I used to ride down this street in the mornings on the way to work. It would be wall to wall with buses, maniac taxis, off-their-nut courier vans and idiots who had become lost in the city.
Look at it today. You could fire canister shot down this boulevarde and not hurt a fly.
Barricades. Check out these barricades. I went through a number of these today. I'd like to know if this is the type of barricade that the Chaser convoy was allowed through, or whether it was the more serious type of 2.8m tall barrier that they got through. It really isn't much of an issue if they got through this.
I was held up getting over the bridge at Darling Harbour. The bastard in charge of it decided to open it up for no good reason. It's one of those old bridges that rotates around when it opens up to allow boats through.
I stuck my head over the side of the bridge and the only thing that went through was a low flying seagull. Buggered if I know why they opened it up.
At least the monorail could still get across.
I generally try to clip these dickheads on the arse with the tip of my handlebars as I go burning past them. The yelps of shock and pain are always a pleasure to listen to.
The only vehicles whose presence made sense to me - something for sucking grease out of grease traps. This should have been used to extract the crap from between the ears of some of the people in the park. Unforunately, it doesn't seem to have been cranked up at all.
I used to ride down this street in the mornings on the way to work. It would be wall to wall with buses, maniac taxis, off-their-nut courier vans and idiots who had become lost in the city.
Look at it today. You could fire canister shot down this boulevarde and not hurt a fly.
Barricades. Check out these barricades. I went through a number of these today. I'd like to know if this is the type of barricade that the Chaser convoy was allowed through, or whether it was the more serious type of 2.8m tall barrier that they got through. It really isn't much of an issue if they got through this.
I was held up getting over the bridge at Darling Harbour. The bastard in charge of it decided to open it up for no good reason. It's one of those old bridges that rotates around when it opens up to allow boats through.
I stuck my head over the side of the bridge and the only thing that went through was a low flying seagull. Buggered if I know why they opened it up.
At least the monorail could still get across.
Truther
I cycled past this guy and pretty much ignored him and his table of merchandise.
I turned back a few minutes later and spotted this sign which was not visible from side on:
"Investigate 9/11 seek out the real terrorist"
Hmm. I thought it was pretty well agreed who did it. Utter nutbag.
I turned back a few minutes later and spotted this sign which was not visible from side on:
"Investigate 9/11 seek out the real terrorist"
Hmm. I thought it was pretty well agreed who did it. Utter nutbag.
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