quaint European customs - Eurovision

I've recently had the good fortune to be in Europe, specifically Spain, for two major events on the European competitive calendar - the European Cup* and the Eurovision Song Contest.

Watching the songs was bizarre - mostly Shania Twain or Celine Dion wannabees, with a few weird combinations of Robbie Williams and Justin Timberlake, some adding in an authentic local touch such as some old guy wailing or a funny looking ethnic instrument from their neck of the woods. Then there were the risky, edgy performances - the Finns** put in an entry called Hard Rock Halleluja, delivered with high energy, fireworks and by a band entirely decked out as either Klingons or Orcs; Lithuania had a band of Right Said Fred types belting out We Are The Winners (Of Eurovision), which was my personal favourite as it actually had some lyrics that were quite clever. Ireland's entry was neither risky nor edgy - it was clearly an attempt to be Ronan Keating, by the male singer, but delivering a painful love song that could just as easily have been a happy clappy evangelical christian tune. Like I said - bizarre.

If watching the songs was weird, the voting was even more convoluted and time-consuming than STV. How it seemed to work, from what I could discern through the Spanish commentary over the English-speaking hosts, was that all over Europe people could phone vote for their favourite song, but they couldn't vote for the song from their own country. Then the hosts worked through each country in Europe, with a specific host in each capital who delivered the votes by ranking them (the most popular song in Country A would get 12 points, the second 10 points, the third 8, the fourth 7, and so on down to 1). These were then all added up to give the final results, but it just took so long, it seemed to go on forever with some MTV type young man or woman popping up from each country and commenting the main hosts on the great show and how wonderful they looked, etc.

At first we thought the votes must be decided by the diplomatic core, rather than the phone votes, as the big numbers would invariably go to a close neighbour, eg Andorra's 12 went to Spain. But then the cracks became apparent as Russia, Finland, Lithuania and Bosnia-Herzegovnia raced ahead. Israel didn't do so well. I didn't even know they were part of Europe, but I guess they don't get to take part in many Middle Eastern song contests. Only France voted for them, giving them 4 points to end up second to last.

The voting wasn't without some political controversy - when Cyprus voted their host said "hello from what is Europe's only divided capital", and he then proceeded to give no votes to Turkey. He finished up with a real performance about who Cyprus had given their 12 points to, as "we Greeks only know how to say 12 in song."

Many of the individual country hosts gave their results in the local language, but all used English as well, showing that it really is the language coming to dominate Europe, probably more because of the influence of the internet and American popular culture than England itself.

In the end Finland was the clear winner, 50 points ahead of nearest rivals Russia. Have a Google search to hear their masterpiece, but be warned, its probably not what you'd expect...

*Barcelona 2 Arsenal 1 - an exciting night to be in Madrid, but a little frustrating in terms of trying to find out any other news for the next two days, as the news sources followed the European Cup's trip to its new home.

**NB: Not Tim & Neil

So what have I missed?

A plea to my readers here, in fact to NZ´s political bloggers in general.

Currently I´m on a mini OE, right now I´m in Spain. I hear it´s cold in NZ. It´s not cold here. It´s 33.5 C here, and that´s at 5pm in the afternoon.

But I digress.

Being overseas means not having much internet access. NZ news isn´t exactly on the front pages over here on the continent (even when they are in English). In fact the only NZ news I´ve seen was in Russia, when Russell Crowe´s smoking on stage stunt made the briefs of the St Petersburg Times.

So what I´m asking for is for you (yes, you) to nominate, in the comments section or on your own blogs (and please post a link in the comments here so that I can find it) the following:

Your top three NZ political/political blogging events since March 26th, each described in TEN WORDS OR LESS.

Time is money, and internet time is big money. I´ve paid up to $20 NZ an hour just to read the NZ Herald online (a pitiful experience - are weather and Dancing with the Stars the only news in NZ?) so I´m relying on you, dear readers, to come through for me. I unfortunately don´t have time to surf around the blogs on the occasions I do get online, so please take pity on me and feed my news addiction here instead. Extra points for brevity.

PS Can someone kindly explain, preferably in one sentence, this rumour I vaguely hear about Russell Brown and Murray from Silent Running being the same person?

bye bye birdie

Yes this blog is still in hibernation. Consider this a slight thaw. Full defrosting is anticipated in July along with a bit of a remodel.

A funny thing happened on the way to the Acropolis. Old time readers will possibly remember that I am travelling overseas currently, on a mini OE. Apathy Jack has been demanding "hilarious misunderstandings" and until a few days ago I could only repeat a story from my trip to Vietnam in 2005, involving a man in a suit not being able to understand why my partner and I wanted half an hour of a massage each.

But I think this tops that. Put simply - beware Greeks bearing facemasks.

We caught the ferry from Ayvalik, in Turkey, to Mytilini, which is the main port on the Greek island of Lesvos. We were all greeted by a man in a bio-security suit, and had to drag our feet and our bags across a sudsy mat before going through customs. Then they rifled through our bags but only cared about shoes, which they took off and washed. So far so good, still not as rigorous as coming home to NZ these days.

But then they noticed that I was sick - runny nose, slight cough, general miserable appearance. Quite clearly I was the unwilling victim of a vicious cold.

The man in the bio-security suit took note and was quite excitedly alarmed. He rushed off and got me a facemask then insisted that my companion and I sit and wait for a doctor. Something about bird flu and not infecting seven year old Greek girls.

So we waited. And waited and waited and... you get the drift. It was cold, in the breeze from the door, which wasn't making me feel any better, and I was quite keen for a toilet stop. Eventually I asked where one was, getting further in English than in Greek. It was an example in irony - the toilet was filthy, there was no toilet paper, no soap and no way to dry your hands. Meantime I was effectively in quarantine because my cold made them think I just might have avian influenza. They gave me brochures about washing my hands carefully whenever using the bathroom. Such is life.

Eventually a doctor turned up, with an ambulance. I`d never been in an ambulance before. I didn`t really expect my first time to be for a cold. It was a nice ambulance but you couldn`t see much out the windows and the flashing lights were distracting.

On arrival at the hospital we were greeted by a wheelchair and more doctors in bio-suits. There`s something very disturbing about being dealt with by medical professionals who not only talk rapidly to each other in gobbledeegook (I now know where the phrase "it`s all Greek to me" comes from) but are also encased in so much protective clothing, protecting them from you, that you can only see their eyes. Even their shoes were wrapped in the foot equivalents of scrubs.

In the end we established that I had some kind of infection because I had quite a high fever, but the seven-year old Greek girls would be safe from bird flu; at least until the next boat arrived from Turkey. I got to stay overnight in their nice clean hospital, but then I didn`t have much choice, with a drip to rehydrate me and fill me to the brim with augmentin effectively chaining me to the bed.

So that`s the story of my 24 hours of detainment in a Greek hospital.

Oh and their hospital food tastes like chicken too.

bitter

There's a song by this woman called Jill Sobule, titled "Bitter."

I originally heard it when Channel Z was very first launched in Auckland and was ad free (I also discovered Fiona Apple at the same time, two excellent finds I feel). Anyway, "Bitter" became something of a private anthem for me, in particular the chorus which goes:

I don't want to get bitter
I don't want to turn cruel
I don't want to get old before I have to.

And I don't want to get jaded
Petrified and weighted
I don't want to get bitter like you.

At the time when I was heavily involved in student politics, I decided that this would be my yardstick for when I would pull out - when I started to feel bitter about things, when I started to get twisted and cynical, that would be the time to move on. I made that decision, back then, but external circumstances changed and I felt I had to continue - it was a mistake, although not one I overly regret now, it was really only a mistake for me (and my health).

But now I find those lyrics running through my head again - I'm getting bitter, and oh so jaded, about this blog and the kiwi political blogosphere in general. So, by my rules, that's time to leave, or at least to take a significant break.

Since I wrote my hiatus post I've actually sat down to post, on a couple of occasions, but each time it has been to be reactionary - as I commented over on MVT's own musings about whether (and how) she should continue, I felt like I only wanted to write to tell right wing arseholes how very very wrong they were about something or other. Sounds like a descent into bitterness to me.

And there are a lot of right wing arseholes out there. Of course I'm highly biased, and I've had this debate before, but as a left wing Pakeha woman I feel a lot of the abuse hurled around is both unnecessary and unhelpful. I believe there are many individuals blogging who deliberately craft their posts and comments to hurt and to enrage - and far too often these posts are dignified, and indeed encouraged, by links from bigger players.

If I'm brutally honest I've been disappointed also by the attitude of some of those bigger players to other blogs - when I first started blogging there was a much more collegial atmosphere; hat tips and links left, right and centre (boom boom). But these days I feel as if, politically, many are retreating into their own bunkers, and there isn't the cross-discussion (through links and commenting around the traps) that there used to be. I've been depressed that often I've written something good and it's got bugger all in the way of links or comments, and then my throw away post about the wonders of Viggo Mortensen became a raging debate about imperialism and the like, for no apparent reason. I didn't mind the discussion, in fact I encouraged it, but it left me mystified about what is worth writing and what is not.

I just feel like about five people are reading (despite the hits being much higher than that) and that this blog isn't making a difference to anyone, except to make me bitter. Some of the comments to my hiatus post just reinforced that. My instinct is that many bloggers now are actually trying to be columnists instead - to write something, often sans links, to invite comment, sometimes to engage a little with that feedback, but not really interacting with the blogging community. That's fine, but it's not what I want to do.

There are of course some bloggers who are dear to my heart. Almost all of them I knew before I started blogging. For them I have a few parting gifts (and if I do return you have to give them back!)

For Mr Frank Stupid of Stupid Internet Name - I give you John O'Farrell. If by some chance I have already given you Mr O'Farrell (I have vague recollections that I may have) then you can exchange him for Tom Robbins. If you already have Mr Robbins then you read too much and need to get out more.

For Apathy Jack of Brain Stab - I give you the Social Nerve cartoon page, with which I intend you to inspire your cartoonist within, and also aid you as you continue with your nefarious plan to subvert the tender youths of Hoodrat High (long may they reign!)

For Maia of Capitalism Bad; Tree Pretty - I don't really have some clever or witty link for you Maia. What I want to give you is my heartfelt thanks. Your writing has really opened my eyes to layers of my own feminism that I didn't know existed. You have been a true sister, in the few months you have been blogging (not to mention before!), and you have helped me to evolve.

For Maria Von Trapp of the blog of the same name - For you, comrade, a review of the Sing A Long A Sound of Music at the Hollywood Bowl with over 18,000 people (scroll down). I still can't believe Nickname Pending has never seen it. I can't sing like you can, but I know all the words.

For Tze Ming of Yellow Peril - This wasn't really what I wanted to give you, but I couldn't find what I was after, so this will have to do, as the nearest approximate. I know it's very 1998, but I was feeling kind of nostalgic, and I thought it might remind you of days gone by in the No. 4 Alfred St Women's Club (although perhaps not as much as a picture of that heart throb, Raymond Miller).

For Make Tea Not War of her eponymous blog - I wish you a Sky Tower sized Get Well Soon, and also a bucket full of Serenity action figurines. I hope we can meet up one day when I'm in your part of the world, although it doesn't look like happening anytime soon!

Thanks also to the many other blogs and bloggers I have enjoyed and/or found particularly interesting - Just Left, No Right Turn, Joe Hendren, Ranting on the ROK, First Against the Wall, Philosophically Made and Kiwiblog (in Days Gone By, not so much recently). There are others too, but I'm too lazy (and cynical right at this moment) to type and link them all. If you feel offended by your absence, you can just assume you're in that number and I probably won't disagree.

I'm not going to delete this blog - I'm too vain, and there's a possibility I may return. If I do it will in all likelihood be in July. I will probably continue to (read and) comment elsewhere, although that's getting full of bitterness for me too. I'm so sick of the senseless nastiness (the only thing worse is the senseful nastiness, and I will delete comments on this post from peddlers of it - I've only ever deleted spam before, but I feel very strongly about this).

I'll leave Jill Sobule to bring this on home:

So I'll smile with the rest
I'll wish everyone the best
And know the one who made it,
Made it cuz she was actually pretty good.

Well I don't wanna get bitter
I don't wanna get cruel
I don't wanna get old before I have to.

hiatus

Well I don't feel much like blogging at the moment, so I guess I'm going to take a break.

Please feel free to peruse the Archives and the Few Things Worth Noting.

Also here is a game that Nickname Pending brought to my attention - it involves pretending you run MacDonalds and thus much despoiling of the earth.

Update, 5.18pm February 18th 2006: I'm not sure that I'm coming back, so I would advise that those interested subscribe to this blog through Bloglines, and then you won't have to keep checking this page to see if I'm posting again. span.

weather with you

Hat tip: Samantha Burns

You Are Sunshine

Soothing and calm You are often held up by others as the ideal But too much of you, and they'll get burned You are best known for: your warmth Your dominant state: connecting

What Type of Weather Are You?

No comment, except to say I don't feel very sunny today.

graphomania - the old blogomania?

As part of my preparation for my trip later this year I'm trying to read a few fiction books about the places I'm visiting. I've just finished The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera, in advance of perusing Prague, and I stumbled across the below in Part Four: Lost Letters (Chapter 9, for the listeners at home):

I asked him what he wrote.

His life story. The story of a man who swam three days at sea, held his own against death, lost the ability to sleep, but preserved the strength to live.

"Is it for your children? A family chronicle?"

"My kids don't give a damn." He laughed bitterly. "No, I'm making a book out of it. I think it could do a lot of people a lot of good."

My talk with the taxi driver gave me sudden insight into the nature of a writer's concerns. The reason we write books is that our kids don't give a damn. We turn to an anonymous world because our wife stops up her ears when we talk to her.

You may ask whether the taxi driver was merely a graphomaniac. Let us define our terms. A woman who writes her lover four letters a day is not a graphomaniac, she is simply a woman in love. But my friend who xeroxes his love letters so he can publish them someday - my friend is a graphomaniac. Graphomania is not a desire to write letters, diaries, or family chronicles (to write for oneself or one's immediate family); it is a desire to write books (to have a public of unknown readers).

...

Graphomania (an obsession with writing books) takes on the proportions of a mass epidemic whenever a society develops to the point where it can provide three basic conditions:
1. a high enough degree of general well-being to enable people to devote their energies to useless activities;
2. an advanced state of social atomization and the resultant general feeling of the isolation of the individual;
3. a radical absence of significant social change in the internal development of the nation...

But the effect transmits a kind of flashback to the cause. If general isolation causes graphomania, mass graphomania itself reinforces and aggravates the feeling of general isolation. The invention of printing originally promoted understanding. In the era of graphomania the writing of books has the opposite effect: everyone surrounds himself with his own writings as with a wall of mirrors cutting off all voices from without.

(my emphasis)

Kundera wrote this is 1979 - replace the word "book" with "blog" and I think my point is made. It reminds me of our habit, in the NZ political blogosphere, of so often talking past each other, so rarely actually having a conversation that isn't primarily about point-scoring.* If I ever stop blogging, that will be why.

(I actually wrote all the above [well typed, in the case of Kundera's words] a couple of weeks ago, but it seems even more apt in the wake of the Mohammed cartoons.)

Tags:
- Milan Kundera
- Blogging


* Thank you though to the many commenters here who don't descend to that level, and also to Idiot/Savant of No Right Turn who I believe maintains a high standard that I certainly aspire to, even though I doubt I will ever reach it.

4 (four) - a meme

Tagged by: MVT

Four jobs I've had:
1. Fast food cashier and kitchen hand - couldn't eat KFC for years afterwards
2. Admin slave - the boss found it difficult to understand why I couldn't answer the office phone at all hours, despite the fact that he only paid me to work 20.
3. Shop assistant - at an attempt to copy the Body Shop (it went bust)
4. Typing up the TV listings for Craccum (unpaid) - The Hawke of Algiers anyone?

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Princess Bride
2. Run Lola Run
3. Labyrinth
4. The Fifth Element

Four places I've lived:
1. North Shore, Auckland
2. Kingsland, Auckland
3. Howick, Auckland
4. Mt Eden, Auckland
(Yes, I've never lived anywhere but Auckers)

Four TV shows I love:
1. Green Wing
2. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
3. The Office
4. Doctor Who

Four places I've vacationed:
1. Te Kaha, East Coast
2. Vietnam
3. Bintan Island, Indonesia
4. Waiheke Island

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Macaroni Cheese
2. Cao Lau
3. Chicken Paprika
4. Peach & Apple Cobbler

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Bloglines
2. Google
3. No Right Turn
4. Capitalism Bad; Tree Pretty

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Ireland
2. Tahiti
3. Wellington
4. Te Kaha

Four bloggers I am tagging:
1. jarrod at First Against The Wall - in the hope he will start blogging again!
2. Mr Frank Stupid at Stupid Internet Name
3. Red Confectionary
4. Cactus Kate

pages keep on turning

As some readers may be aware, at the end of March I'm heading on a little trip overseas for a few months.

This trip will begin with a rather long flight, to Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

Suitcase space is at a premium, so I'm limiting myself to only carrying one (reading) book at any one time.

Thus I'm looking for a guaranteed winner, nice and thick, but not too hardcore, to take on the plane. It needs to be able to keep me interested, through the long long hours, be paperback, and preferably have a distinct ending so that I'm not annoyed that I haven't packed the sequel.


Oh and it needs to be something I haven't read before.

Recommendations please, dear readers, for your Best Aeroplane Read (Long Flight).

the zone diet

Last night I noticed Bill English's press release on Feb 7th which trumpets out "96% of parents can't be wrong", and goes on to say:

A survey showing that 96% of parents want to choose which schools their children attend shows Labour is out of step with the aspirations of New Zealand families, says National’s Education spokesman, Bill English.

I checked out the Maxim report that English is referring to. I wanted to see what the question was in this survey:

Parents were asked to respond to the statement, "I would like to select the school my child goes to," indicating whether they strongly agree, agree, neither agree nor disagree, disagree or strongly disagree.

Nearly all parents (96 percent) indicated that they would like to select the school their child goes to.

Maxim then go on to defend the simplicity of the question, but I want to know is, what would the answers have been if they had shoehorned these facts in:

1. Approximately two thirds of NZ schools don't currently even have zones. The Maxim report itself has a dandy graphic on this that shows only 33% of primary schools and 38% of secondaries have zoning. (I suspect that the vast majority of them are in Auckland and yet those surveyed were from across the country.)
   
2. Being able to pick which school you want your child to go to doesn't mean you actually get to chose which school they attend. Just like the Oscars - you can pick any Oscar that you want to win, but unless the Academy picks you for it too, you ain't getting it.

In situations where spaces are tight (remember Point 1, this is about a third of schools), there is no guarantee that just because you choose School A your child will get in to School A, unless there is some obligation on the school to take students like your child above others.

Under zoning that obligation is for schools to take local students above others. Without zoning that obligation is up to the school and its Board of Trustees, and they could decide anything they liked as long as it didn't directly contravene legislation, eg the Human Rights Act. They could decide they were only going to take students who lived in houses with even street numbers and if you happened to live in an odd numbered house, tough cheese.

In the zoneless world it is the school who has all the power. It becomes even more dangerous when community involvement is also curtailed, through associated policies like encouraging schools to take-over others and turning schools' senior figures into managers instead of professional leaders. Where demand is high and supply is low the market will provide - which usually means the people with the big wallets gets what they want and stuff everyone else.

Abolishing zoning gives the appearance of parental choice. But it can't deliver the reality.

Links:
Moxie over at Kete Were has been writing some excellent stuff on zoning recently, e.g.
- John Morris - victim of injustice?
- Zoning debate rages on - in my mind at least

Tags:
- Education
- Zoning

disagreement in a caucus of two?

Remember this from Rodney Hide's recent speech, you know, the one that created much furore on the Right side of the blogosphere:

"Don Brash will lead National into the next election – so long as his caucus keeps their collective nerve.

But Don must kill the question over his leadership quick smart.

He should take a leaf out of the late Sir Robert Muldoon's book when confronted with the “colonel’s coup” in 1980.

Sir Robert reached beyond his caucus and enlisted his supporters across the country to retain his job and dispense with the ambitions of his opponents.

Don Brash needs to front up at caucus on Tuesday and put his leadership on the line. He needs to tell those MPs who are destabilising his leadership to put up or shut up.

They won’t put up. They don’t have the numbers.

Don then needs to ask the National President and Party Head Office to conduct a ballot of all members to test their support for his continued leadership.

Compare and contrast with this, from Act's The Letter:

Instead of wasting time, demanding pledges of loyalty, National need to review their parliamentary tactics.

The speech was delivered on February 2nd, The Letter went out on February 7th.

Has Hide changed his mind within a week or does Prebble still write The Letter?

youth rates bill to pass first hurdle

Hat tip: Andrew Falloon (!)

Image heinously uplifted from: a-cappella.com

Looks like the numbers are in favour of putting Sue Bradford's abolition of youth rates bill through to Select Committee, thanks to, of all people, Peter Dunne. Wohooo!

Aucklanders have a chance to express their support for the Bill at this rally on Saturday, and I'm sure the campaign will heat up once it's through the first vote in the House, which I think will happen this Tuesday.

It all ties in with the campaign to raise the minimum wage (for everyone). Although I believe $12 is still too low, this is an important first step in addressing very real, and pressing, concerns about the level of income of a lot of families. If people currently had enough to live on there wouldn't be loan sharks all along the main street of Otahuhu and popping up near many state housing areas in Auckland. Proof, yet again, that the market will not provide for everyone.

Update, 12.33pm 8th February 2006: Thanks to Joe Hendren for pointing out in comments that the Bill is only about youth rates, not lifting the minimum wage. Oops! I've corrected my original post (including the title) accordingly.

the blog you'll hate to love

Your chance to get one back - Splog - SPAM us.

The Splog's description says it all:

This page was put in place so that you can spam here instead of other blogs where spam is unwanted. Spam is welcomed here. I'm ready to visit your lovely websites, leave a comment.

Gotta love that Next Blog button.

saying no

Gosh, Maia of Capitalism Bad; Tree Pretty posts some excellent, thought-provoking stuff. She challenges me (inadvertently) to be a better feminist and I love that - it makes the synapses fire and reading her writing often results in connections clicking into places between random things stored away forever in my skull.

Recently she posted about the case of Ranui Biddle, who was recently found not guilty of raping a woman who had agreed to Biddle sleeping in her bed. According to the jury, and the judge, this woman's agreement to Biddle sharing her sheets was also an agreement to sex, despite the fact that she said no.

Well that's handy to be aware of. I shall be sure to write that down somewhere so that I won't forget. Maybe a tattoo on my hand would be a good place: "Span, Don't Forget, Bed Sharing = Consent to Sex." To be sisterly, I should also go around and tattoo this message (sans the span) on the hand of every woman I encounter, presumably from a young age; shouldn't every woman know about this new law?

Seriously though, this judgement is seriously disturbing. As I've commented on Maia's blog, this kind of event always prompts me to think about when it is too late for a woman to say no.

Is it:

a) before the date
b) at the start of the date
c) before the man pays (if he pays) for the meal/movie ticket/whatever
d) before she shares transport with the man
e) before she invites him in, or enters his abode
f) before they kiss
g) after they kiss but before anything else
h) before clothing is removed
i) before they are in bed
j) before penetration
k) during penetration

According to the judge and jury in the Biddle case, it's at point i (before they are in bed). And that, dear readers, is a total and utter crock.

At any of the above points if one of the partners says no the sex should stop. It might be hard, it might be frustrating, but it should stop. No means no. It means no further. It means stop.

In fact, I reflect on the fact that No is often one of the earliest words that people learn. Those working with small children will know how irritating it is when they learn No, and its power. There is no ignorance in our society when it comes to the meaning, and intent, of someone who says no. There really are few words so clear, especially in this situation, as NO.

(All of this just underscores the point I made a few months back in my post saying yes. Wouldn't it be better to have a policy of If In Doubt Find Out - actually talk about sex, communicate openly and honestly, and if you're not sure if your partner is into it, ask.)

I want to take the Biddle case a bit further. Imagine that we are talking not about sex but about dancing. Pretend, if you will, that you are the one who doesn't wish to dance, but this doesn't occur to you until you are actually on the floor and being twirled around, or perhaps you change your mind. You can still say no at this point, with no greater penalty than annoying your partner. You can walk away at any point.

Sex should be the same - and no one should be in the least interested in continuing sex (or dancing) with a partner who is not keen.

more on Bloghui

Following rebutted cynicism over at Kiwiblog about the forthcoming BlogHui 2006, there is now a Stuff article on the March event.

At $300 a pop it's rather a stretch for the common blogger, but let's hope this first one is a success and future ventures can become more accessible. I note that participants for this year's are limited to 100, which is probably a good way to test viability.

Tag:
Bloghui

Yellow Peril right on the money

All of this palaver about cartoons of Mohammed has rather missed the point, imho.

Yes, many people can publish them legally (free speech and all that) which is a Good Thing. I have no problem with the original publication of the cartoons, but some of the blog incarnation of this saga is really quite juvenile.

If your sole motivation in publishing the cartoons is really just to piss other people off (to put it mildly) is that actually a good reason to do so? That seems to me why most of the NZ bloggers who have published them have done so.

I note that many of the cartoons are in languages I certainly can't read and I expect many of those who have blogged them also fail to actually understand the punchlines. So publication really is more about saying "Up Yours" rather than anything else.

Tze Ming has put it better than I ever could:

Why be so determined to publish low-quality cartoons only, and specifically only because they will upset a vast amount of people who never did anything to you, but who, rather, have had to put up with this crap in escalating doses since September 2001? The right to 'take the mickey' is truly satisfying when the powerful are being mocked. What kind of satisfaction are these newspapers taking from putting the boot into people who are already floored? I mean, what is the point?

What I hate the most about these 'freedom-of-speech' moments, is that when the desired outrage is elicited from some cheap shot (eg, a newpaper gets called a pack of cunts, people stop buying Danish cheese) then those reactions are deemed attacks on freedom of speech. Well, they're not. They're further expressions of freedom of speech. Sow, reap, eat.

Update, 12.19pm 6th February 2006: Maia and Mr Stupid have posted in a similar vein:
- Free Speech - Capitalism Bad
- ixnay on the lasphemybay - Stupid Internet Name

Update the second, 10.48am 7th February 2006: Psycho Milt and I are having quite a civilised and (imho) constructive disagreement about this all over at a post on Sir Humphrey's (scroll down to read the comments).

Tags:
Mohammed cartoons
Free speech

own goals II - Jan update

You can read my original NY resolutions here. The first month has gone ok imho.

However I realised that I forgot to assign myself rewards for each resolution, so these are inserted this month instead.

Underway
1. To start swimming once a week - I have gone swimming the last three Sundays, which I think is pretty good. For various good reasons I can't this morning, but I'm planning on going to the gym a bit later for a work-out anyway. My swimming is hideously bad however - I did 6 lengths (it's a 25m pool) the first time, 8 the next, 10 last time, and I'm doing 2 of each stroke that I know (breaststroke, backstroke, sidestroke, doggy paddle, freestyle without doing the breathing properly). It's much harder than I anticipated.

Reward: If I'm still swimming regularly by the end of September (seeing as I will be out of the country for three months and will then have to get back into my gym routine from the end of June), I'll book myself in to a spa for some pampering for half a day.


3. To eat breakfast - this is going pretty well. I take some toast into work each day, and have furnished myself with some nice jam, and am even managing to do an approximation of this most weekends as well.

Reward: If I'm still eating breakfast every work-day by the end of September (same deal as 1.) I'll buy myself the two Bartimaeus trilogy books that I don't have yet.


4. To take my lunch to work most days - mostly successful, although work is getting insane, which means a lot of time on the road, which in turn means Drive Thru Take Aways (shudder). I shall have to counter with pita pockets of spinach, salami and feta methinks.

Reward: Well the obvious reward for this (same time scale as the previous two) is a slap up long lunch somewhere delightful. Suggestions in comments please folks.


5. To make some decisions about my political activism outside work - I think the trip will probably make some decisions for me in a way. I think it will be valuable (for me) to remove myself from the equation totally for a few months and then reassess without all of the emotional baggage when I return. I'm helping out with Auckland's International Women's Day committee and a film fundraiser for Auckland Sexual Abuse Help at the moment, although I suspect I've over committed myself at a time when (as mentioned in 4.) work is overwhelming.

Reward: I think the main reward here will be a sense of purpose and a lack of guilt. No other reward seems necessary at this stage.


Second Half of the Year Resolution
2. To start learning te reo - has to wait until I'm back from the mini OE.

Reward: Once I'm enrolled in a decent course I'll treat myself to a CD I've been hankering after (probably the latest Goldenhorse), and when I've completed the course I'll add a DVD (I'm thinking Green Wing*, if it's available in NZ by then).


I never did get those sparkly roller skates from last year's reward list. Going to keep my eyes peeled while I'm in Europe and damn the postage!!

Tag:
New Year's resolutions


* Wohoo Season 2 starts in the UK in March!!

the end is surely nigh

Hat tip: Samantha Burns

Yep, it's a Canadian reality TV show entitled The Next Great Prime Minister. (Be aware, this page seems to take An Ice Age to load). Apparently they are basically turning an existing concept into a show for the small screen, as the competition itself has been around for a decade already in some form or another.

It sounds like a similar concept to Trump's The Apprentice, with four ex-PMs judging and an internship with a Canadian public policy think-tank as the ultimate prize. However at this stage it is a one-off special, rather than a full series.

damn it

I know I was having an argument somewhere with Mr Stupid about Maori not being a dead language.

50 points (in Stupid parlance) to the person who can direct me to the post (it wasn't on here).

away again

For work, for a few days. After that work goes insane with busy-ness, so blogging may be a bit light over the next few weeks.

And a belated get well soon to MTNW too.