Bits 'n bites

Random neuron firings
It's the Saturday before Xmas and I'm home chillin', listening to some tunes (new and old). It occurred to me there may have been a few absurdities (if not atrocities!) I missed mentioning this year.

So I'll list a few here as I drink coffee (and then wine), and groove to the tunes. (Currently playing: Drive By Truckers, Oddities & Rarities).

Tough enough yet?
How long do folks need to stand in the torture chamber and take the beatings and whippings and general abuse? Some may say: "Wow that proves you're tough!" Not many would, though.  Far more people would opine: "What the fuck is wrong with you, you toolbag?"

There are a few people in my orbit who seem to think that being buried under a ton of snow and sub-zero temps – for 6 months of the year – means you're smarter, tougher and more elite than anyone else (yes, I see you, family and friends in Canada...)

To quote Austin Powers in Goldmember: "How about NO, you crazy Dutch bastards!?"

It's a ridiculous climate to live in. You're not impressing anyone. It only makes us laugh harder.

Claims of: "But it's beautiful!" aren't fooling anyone. You stand inside your house and take photos of the snow piling up and whipping around. Then you send said photos on to me (and other sensible people living in places with a tolerable climate) and say: "See! See how nice it is!"

Well – you're not OUT in it. You're inside your house, safe and warm, NOT dressed in the 6 layers of clothing you'd need to survive outside, and NOT enduring the actual frozen brutality. Which is precisely what I'm doing, in my house – well,  I'm looking at your photos (same view you have), but that's as far as "sameness" goes.

When I'm done looking, I can get up and stroll outside in my shorts and a t-shirt and gaze out at the magnificent view I have ... feed the parrots or admire all the other birds flapping around ... work on my tan ... or I could mosey on down to a seaside patio and have some drinks outdoors ... or I could go for a bike ride.

Whereas you – can either stand there like a cretin, staring at snow falling for hours, in your safe warm house ... or you go sit on a couch and drink and try some serious self-affirmation that this is a good way to live.

So what's so good about where I am?
Good question! But first a preamble: not long ago I had a good chat with my pal Mike in Toronto. We were trying to think of the 'perfect' place on the planet to live. The necessary provisos:

• Had to be 1st World (so that jobs, modern health care, sanitation and decent food were readily at hand)
• Obviously not war-torn
• No place where a new language (total lack of English) was necessary to master, to get along easily 
• Good climate (no regular, expected dips below 10º C, or above 27º C – so not Canada/Russia [any place north of the 49th parallel], anything close to the equator, or Aussie*)
• No regularly anticipated natural disasters (monsoons, hurricanes, tornadoes, snowstorms)
• No crazy, bloodthirsty-based political or religious systems, where the country was either regularly in imminent danger of being attacked (eg: Middle East), or, regularly went out into the world and made a nuisance and menace of itself (clearly the USA and its oil-driven 'world police' antics)
• Relatively stable economy (this eliminates much of Europe, and South and Central America, sadly)

*(Australia's out for two reasons: they're the opposite of Canada for temperature extremes, with Oct – April being 30º + (and often into the 40s). Any country with a climate featuring temperatures that force you indoors for heat OR cooling to survive is no good. And Aussie has a serious fresh water issue. 

Canada's summers are problematic – in the places where it's tolerable to live (say Halifax in the east, or Vancouver on the west coast), the summer temps don't last long enough. You're lucky if you get two months of good weather. Anywhere else in Canada where the culture and fun could make the cut (Montreal, Toronto) it gets heinously humid and hot. And there's nowhere else in Canada worth living).

It turns out there is no one place that covers all the bases, due to the #1 concern: climate. To be truly happy, we'd have to be well-off enough with our incomes to live in two places, minimum.

So, where are these two places?

Number one: New Zealand, from the months between October – April. Specifically Wellington, or the Hawkes Bay area. Wellington has the edge for more employment potential.

Number two: This is a tough one. Geographically, San Francisco would be good. But it's the USA, and the whole 'world police' thing (and being a big terrorist magnet because of that) eliminates that idea. Spain, Greece or Italy would be good, but the wobbly economy takes them out of play. South Africa? Still a bit dicey due to politics/racism issues. Japan? Crowded, and the language issue.

We thought perhaps Austria or Germany could work for the Northern Hemisphere summer months – strong economies being key there. The language issue might be a bit of a struggle, but, English is relatively common with the newer generation. Norway or Sweden were also considered, but Sweden's heavy taxation is a deal-breaker. So, it's down to either Norway, Germany or Austria from May – September.

(Now playing: The 101ers, Joe Strummer's band before The Clash. Earthy, gritty, raw, energetic.).

So I'm set for perfect living conditions from October – April, here in Wellington. The other half of the year isn't terrible under any category though: it's never annoyingly cold, but certainly it's not as nice as spring-summer-early fall here. It's a minor thing to endure. Yep, we get earthquakes. But not all the time. The really big destructive ones don't happen much at all, and modern architecture in the big cities means we can take a pretty serious pounding before massive death and destruction ensues. 

If all things were perfect, I'd make enough money to make Austria or Norway my home for the May – September period.  

But as things stand now, Wellington is the most perfect spot to live for me. There's nothing that raises a cause for concern – like hideous long-term climate for half the year, stupid politics, racism or religious issue, or other countries that want to kill us – that makes it bad in any way.

The fun increases at exponential rates 
There hasn't been a day in the last couple of weeks where I wasn't out having fun with friends in pubs around town.

NZers (at least, Wellingtonians – we won't get in to the grim scenario of what's involved with being an Aucklander) go out a lot, most times of the year. I leave work any day of the week and stroll to one of any number of bars within a 10-minute walk from my office, and they're pretty full from 5 pm onwards. Not just Fridays – I'm talking any day of the week. This is one of the first features about New Zealand that struck me as fantastic ... no one goes out midweek in Canada or the USA. It's a wonder how bars and pubs can survive there, when their only 'big' nights are Friday and Saturday.

Now it's Xmas – and the folks are really mobbing up the pubs. Many people are already on their holidays; others (like me) don't seem to care that we're drinking on a 'school night'. There isn't much work being done in most offices around town, this close to Xmas. And fun, of course, is always more crucial.

(Now playing: John Cale, a best-of compilation: Seducing The Door).

Last night we decided to spread the drinking wealth around, with a trip to The Hop Garden, one of the first craft beer pubs in town to spring up. It's not a usual haunt, as it's just off the beaten path where all the other places are so close together ... a whole extra two minutes on the bus.

The place was buzzing, groups of friends congregating (and a few office parties) were well under way from 5 pm. A brief stop into Hashigo Zake just before this (leaving work at 4.30 is a fun option!) found some people who'd been up to their "works' party"shenanigans  from about noon onwards. Perma-grins and loud-talking abounded, with a lot of daylight still to go.

There is something daring, and cheekily fun about being blitzed in the middle of an afternoon ... that would otherwise be a normal, stodgy work day – especially considering places like Canada and the USA don't get these opportunities. North America just doesn't seem to 'get' this fun culture thing we have going here (as does Aussie, and the UK, and Germany, and France, and ... well you get the idea. Loosen up, America and Canada!)

We work hard most of the year, and just getting a few days off over Xmas and New Years is NOT 'just reward'. Neither is only having two weeks of annual leave.

Most gigs here give workers two weeks off over Xmas. And the days leading up to the holidays will often feature gatherings like this – afternoons off for the sanctioned office party, or half-days taken off by us, the proletariat, from our wonderful FOUR WEEKS OF ANNUAL LEAVE that everyone gets here, standard.

There is a lot to be said for fun, and the freedom and opportunity to have it. It makes for happy worker-bees, and those of us who are cogs in a bigger machine.

(Now playing: Baroness, The Red Album – heavier rock).

Assholes do vex us
Now, in the Seriously, WTF? department ... following on from the heinous shootings of children and adults at a school in the USA last week, we now have deranged, broken, savage sub-humans calling in similar shooting threats to other schools. And of course every threat has to be taken seriously ... but then of course there is the overkill (pardon the irony) aspect of the over-reaction in some places. My friend Amy in Michigan reported that some schools were not only taking the threat of another possible murderous rampage by some monster seriously ... they included the ludicrous possibility of the Mayan 'end of the world' as possible too.

Hell, why not add the potential for zombies, or an attack from a bunch of mean outer space aliens, or Godzilla suddenly turning up to wreak havoc?

How do jackwagons consistently manage to end up in charge of making any kind of important decision?

And then of course there's the NRA in the US, piping up, in a much-anticipated statement that many hoped would be something sensible from this bunch of penis-extension nuts (sorry, gun advocates).

Ha ha.

Central to the NRA's big statement about how to fix things were:
(1) Legislate it so all schools become gun-free zones [of course, maniacal murderous sub-humans will obey laws!] ... and, place trained armed guards in all schools. Yeah, nice up-front display demonstrating it's all fallen apart, and the only way to deal with things is have people ready to blow away other people who might show up to blow away the kids and teachers. Hey, make it simpler: how about these armed guards all wear shirts that say: "We don't have ANY idea what we're doing"! and;
(2) Much of the problem with whackos who take up guns and embark on crazy slay-fests is due to violent video games. Yeah, and once we legislate these awful video games from being made, we can concentrate on dealing with the millions of people who are out wantonly fucking in public, because they watch porn.

(Now playing: Bobby Womack, a best-of compilation. One of the smoothest soul-men of the 60s and 70s).

Now I'm going to eat something, and settle in to watch Taken 2, starring Liam Neeson. Then, can someone call the authorities and have me locked up? Because after seeing this movie, I'm clearly going to snap, then run out and kidnap a bunch of innocent people, shoot and kill some more, and run around screaming and behaving in a decidedly 2-dimensional drug-and-violence fuelled criminal fashion.

Yours in absurdity,

What do rebels do if they ever win?

Beery thoughts
After yet another night wobbling about in a couple of Wellington's newest "craft beer" pubs, I got to wondering this morning – what happens if your Big Rebellious Movement suddenly wins, there's no more of The Other Thing that was clearly shoddy and poorly made and a piece of shit, and maybe even bad for you, and hazardous to children and kittens?

You could take for example movie franchises like Star Wars. The rebels were constantly fighting the evil Empire and suddenly at the end of the last movie, they won. Then ... what? Non-stop parties with the fierce teddy bear people? Golden bikini contests with Leia and a bunch of other babes? Or perhaps ... boredom? Fighting "the good fight" was suddenly remembered as a lot more exciting, and fun. Now with all this peace and freedom ... what was there do to?

I'm talking specifically about this craft beer business. First of all, what exactly is this?

Well. In a nutshell, and thanks mostly in part to Prohibition, beer went from wonderfully and properly made elixers by true craftsmen who stuck to the four ingredients of beer  (Water, Hops, Yeast, and Fun ... oops I mean Malt) to being mostly non-existent during Prohibition.

When the Iron Curtain of No Fun was finally lifted, in stepped weasly business greaseballs like Adolph Coors and the Budweiser brewing company. They cranked out something that vaguely resembled beer, only their concoctions had a bunch of other chemicals in it – like Accelerators (so they could brew it faster) and Preservatives (so it would last longer in storage). And they made it a disconcerting yellow, and with an alarming low alcohol content.

Then they flooded the market with it. In stacks and droves. So even if the small yet dedicated craftsmen of yore could get their products made properly and out there, they were overshadowed and blown out of the water by ... this heinous piss-water.

Similarly in Canada, the Molson and Labatt people fronted up with the same mass-produced swill, flooded the market, and after a generation or two of sheepish Canadian drinkers 'liking it or lumping it', it sadly became the definition of what beer was.

And for many long decades, that was all there was available for the poor downtrodden yet misinformed beer drinker. Sure, a while after prohibition ended, you might be able to find some bizarrely labelled imports from places like Belgium and Czech and England, but they were a lot more expensive. They were made properly, but by now the tastebuds of Joe Beer Swiller were inured to the bland, same-as hideous taste of the mass produced swill. So the chances of people paying MORE for something that wasn't bland and yellow, and that shocked and awed their tastebuds was pretty slim.

Then along about the mid to late 80s, the west coast of the USA (and shortly after, Vancouver in Canada), a small miracle was a-brewing. Craft beer was coming back (aka "micro-brew" beer). It was being made and distributed in stores alongside the Big Mass Produced Swill. It was a bit more expensive ... but suddenly people with a bit more cash on hand were buying it. These were the sorts of people who would buy single-malt scotch instead of some cheap knock-off mixture of stuff like Cutty Sark. These were also the sorts of people who would buy decent wine, instead of the usual liquid-headache-in-a-bottle cheap plonk.

Then along came pubs attached to the micro-breweries – a logical expansion of the idea. If you make it, why not sell it right there, too? This made it fun and a bit pretentious and elite to be within such confines, drinking a beverage that was clearly better than Coors Lite or Bud or Miller (or Blue or Ex or Canadian). You could see the big brewing gear right there, and talk to the brewmaster. You were getting drunk in style.

Exponents of this newish 'craft beer' now had a cause celébre.  It wasn't a fight for all things right vs evil and badness, but it was a bit of a trendy struggle to try and get people who drank cheap swill to realise there were better things out there. But while they were wallowing in ignorance, you, you refined drinker of great beer, were awash in the excellence of how good beer could actually be.

It became a bit of a cause, and the activists started to fancy themselves rebels.

This is the sort of thing going on here in Wellington now. Wellington has become the leading edge of the movement to get better 'craft' beer out there and available for all to enjoy. There are loads of brewers now (in my 12 years here I've seen it go from one to maybe 20 or more). Is it good? Absolutely. Is it spendy? You bet.  For a bargain night of brain-cell incapacitating, you could rock in to a grocery store here and lay down $10 and get 12 cans or bottles of some bland swill (but with a 5% ABV rating!) that will get the job done.

But if you wanted to do it right, with a good-tasting ale or pilsener or lager or porter or stout – you would spend up and go "craft". And man it is good* – and you can find a type of beer to suit your own tastebuds. And lately, even some bizarre and experimental stuff.

*(Throughout my drinking life, the same cycle or pattern has emerged with every sort of liquor, beer or wine there is – the first type of anything I was given to drink in the early days was the bargain-basement, low-rent, ass-bucket version of the thing. This was obvious with beer, as all we had in the 70s was Molson or Labatt, or if we crossed the river to New York State, Budweiser or Miller or Coors. Then later in life, I get offered a proper version of the thing – in beer's case, it was some excellent microbrew in Vancouver. This has happened with scotch [bar-rail scotch vs single-malt], wine [cheap skanky 2-buck-chuck swill vs excellent varietal], rum [Bacardi's mass-produced gasoline atrocity, vs Appleton's] et al. So no matter what you drink at first, it's likely the shittiest version of that thing ... and if you're lucky, you will eventually get to try the properly-made version of that thing. And chances are, you will say: "Oh, holy SHIT, this is great. THIS is how it's supposed to taste!?" My biggest surprise with this process was tequila – who knew that the evil, benzine-tasting weed killer we all know and despise actually comes in some really excellently made versions? But I digress). 

And now most recently, with beer, the emphasis has been on hops. As in: "How many hops can we stuff into a brew to make it even more hoppy, for those who love hops and want more?"

The answer seems to be: there is no limit.

Now, in a bunch of new pubs here featuring nothing BUT craft beer (and at least one pub that makes its own beer on premises), this "Hops madness" is the new sub-rebellion that has splintered off from just the overall "umbrella" cause of craft beer. Now, it's not just: "It has to be craft". It's now: "It has to be so hoppy that all you can taste or breathe for the next day is hops".

Which is good if you like hops. And I do. (But I also enjoy a hearty dark porter or stout on a cooler day, and I enjoy a cheeky pilsener and even a cloudy wheat beer on a hot day). I'm an open-minded drinker (and this also applies to wine, scotch and rum, of notable and noteworthy quality).

But the underlying thing I've noticed is (here we finally get to the point) – the chatter that goes on in these pubs seems hyper-centred on just how amazingly good this all is. Hyper-centred to the point of that person who, for no reason, suddenly shouts out: "I'm NOT CRAZY!" , which of course affirms that, indeed, you are bat-shit insane ...

We gather with friends in these pubs (which is always fun) and everyone orders something different to try (an easy thing to accomplish, as pubs now have vast numbers of taps, due to all the craft beers available now), and forthwith begins the conversation: everyone asks every other person "What do you have? How is that one?" This goes on with the simultaneous undercurrent of "Wow those suckers out there paying good money for shitty [insert name of local mass produced beer here], what fools and poltroons!"

So I wondered – what if, in the not too distant future, we crafty drinkers suddenly win. One day, without warning, the mass-producers of 'swill' switch gears – and now they're turning out their own versions of "craft" beer. And it's good.

Now there's nothing left to mock, taunt and deride. It would be like *gasp* the Toronto Maple Leafs winning the cup.*

*(Do you see what I did there? There isn't even an NHL season this year, and so the Leafs aren't playing, but I STILL found a way to mock them! Also – the two scenarios would be equally impossible to happen.)

What would the legion of beer purists have left? They'd have to actually talk about things other than what astoundingly great beer it is they've chosen, and what rubes and hayseeds everyone else "out there" are for not doing so.

They'd just be beer drinking rebels without a cause.

Well it's just about beer-o'clock. I do believe I'll go have one of the new ones I just heard about ... "Hopcat", or "Double Trouble".

Reelin' in the Yuletide madness

Roll out the Yuletide barrel of fun!
Here we go again, funsters – my 53rd go at enabling a Yuletide season!

Well sure, I may only remember 50 of these, as not many of us recall the infant-to-age-3 times. OK make it 48 recollections. There were a couple of Xmases in the 90s where Santa may have brought me just a bit too many fun intoxicants ...

So here we go with Xmas 2012. And already the madness is rife! (That's of course IF we make it past this coming Friday, the 21st – if those madcap Mayans were right, we may not have to worry about last-minute shopping. Or, much of anything) ...

The tell-tale signs were upon us weeks ago 
There's something about this time of the year that really brings out the Freak Show Superstars. These are the people who don't normally go out in public from January - November. Now, they are suddenly out in droves – standing in stores/shops trying to figure out the whole "look for stuff you might want, buy it, get the hell out of the store" routine. Or standing in the DOORWAYS of said stores, blocking traffic, while they gaze around open-mouthed, trying to figure out which direction to take to continue the idea of going IN to or OUT of the store. Which is it again? Have I shopped?

Or they're standing at the cashier, trying to bamboozle the clerks into ... something ... I stood behind a woman (who clearly went out of her way to come in to the "big city" of Wellington to get her 'shop' on). All I wanted to do was pay for the shirt I had picked out not 30 seconds before (I don't spend heaps of times in stores "shopping" – I go in knowing what I want, and get exactly what I want – and then GTFO*. Time lapsed, maybe 2 minutes, tops. IF there are lots of people to step around).

*(Get the fuck out).

But I wasn't going to be 'getting the fuck out' anytime soon ... this woman had a pile of clothes strewn about the counter. She apparently had some coupons that were out of date. And a credit card that was also just as deceased. Also maybe some money. No one was certain ...

The conversation back and forth between the jackwagon customer and the cashier eventually led to the dead coupons being allowed (and good job on the cashier for allowing the dead coupons – that sped things up a lot, and deflected any potential yelling and screaming and further delays ... and really, who cares if the ducats were dead. They were alive once, and usable. Maybe this loopy woman was a time-traveler who though it was still December 2011) ...

More unintelligible, crazy jibbering from the woman ensued ... something senseless that no one could make heads or tails of.  Then – Salvation! The wily and savvy cashier got the woman to agree that if she put back 4 or 5 of the 10 things she had on the counter, she would have 5 things to take home, AND, a $17 surplus (a balance from the previously-defunct coupons) with which to buy something else. She was then encouraged to go shop some more. And wonder of wonders, she buggered off. And I was up next! A smooth transaction ensued, shirt was purchased, I put it on in the change room to wear out, and off I went to the party of the day ...

But I am getting ahead of myself, for this particular day. Just prior to shirt shopping, I'd gotten off a packed bus (half full of the sorts of people who had clearly never ridden on, or perhaps even known about, a bus before ... but I must admit there is some merriment involved with watching someone who finally "gets" they need to pay the driver, then they slowly saunter down looking for just the right seat ... and of course city bus drivers never wait for sauntering people. Drivers always jet off immediately, they have a route to maintain. And sauntering people are sent lunging for hand-holds with shocked looks on their faces ...)

I de-bussed, and two steps into the direction I wanted to go, I heard a commotion behind me. Some lady shouted "Stop! Give it back!", and I turned to see what was up – some scruffy nutbag had purse-snatched a lady, and a nano-second later, half a dozen other pedestrians had jumped on the guy and got her purse back ... and were in the process of forcing the guy onto the sidewalk, to wait for the cops. Quick work! A citizen's arrest in progress, and succeeding! For a moment I thought I'd wait to see if the guy managed to escape, and if he headed my way, I'd clothesline him and make him rethink this whole idea ... but no need. He had been subdued.

This was just one of the many examples of lunatic behaviour I regularly see around this time of the year. Loonies deciding to make a day of being loony in public, in stores and restaurants (do they pack a lunch, and do some stretching first? Are they well hydrated?) ... scumbags and losers out on the grift ... or newbies fresh off the farm, and now on the busses, trying to figure out how they work. (Seriously - adults over the age of 30 NOT knowing how a city bus works?)

So many parties, so little time
A really cool thing about this time of year is all the parties – office parties*, friends having shindigs, other sorts of organised get-togethers. And now, all of the craft-beer pubs are coming up with interesting ways to lure us funsters and beer swillers in.

* (Not MY office however. As a government operation, they of course panic at the needless or stupidly perceived things, while at the same time, ramble and wobble about in a heedless blur about stuff that actually matters. So this year's needless stupidity is: What if the media finds out about us having an Xmas bash funded by the bosses? Why, all hell will break loose! Dogs and cats living together, MASS HYSTERIA!) 

So there's fun afoot in all the spots around town that serve up food and drink. First, a quick mention about hotels or restaurants that don't really know what they're doing when it comes to serving people meals, or drinks ... after the purse-snatch and shirt-purchase incidents, I was off to meet my friend Alex. She'd invited me to her book club's Xmas party, in a hotel conference room.

Now the restaurant industry here in Wellington is pretty full-on. There are lots of places to eat, and every cuisine imaginable. (A recent study claims we have more eateries per capita than New York City, or San Francisco). And it's pretty self-regulating for bad food/service. Bad food or service always means you're going to fail, and spectacularly.

If you open up a place because you think "Gee wouldn't running a restaurant or bar be great fun!", this is NOT the first and only reason you should do so. Knowing something about the game, and, having experienced people in key positions like host/hostess, bartender, wait staff and cooks is pretty crucial.

This hotel for the book club party had none of these fundamental bases covered. We asked the bartender to start us individual tabs, and it was as if we'd ask her to quickly set up a Large Hadron Collider right there and then. Once seated in the conference room/eatery, similar confusion ensued amongst the wait staff regarding simple queries. And then of course the food was sub-standard. At least it wasn't pricey – and when we eventually got the wines and beers, they were of course good. Hard to screw those up.

A new hook the bars have figured out
There's nothing like being part of a fun new idea to augment free or low-cost drinking! And the pubs here have a new game in play – they invite one local brewer in to "take over" all the taps, and then the general rabble (me) are invited in to partake at less than usual prices (with of course free samples on offer for any you don't know about, or you pretend to not know about).

This is a fair bit of fun. I went to one last week for Epic beer (at the Malthouse), and tonight it's one at Bin 44* for Garage Project's lineup of high-octane ales and pilseners. Another fun place here (Hashigo Zake) features "New Release Tuesday" every week – as the name implies, something new from one of the local mad brewers will be on offer. Usually we get a freebie to start. Last night was no different; a weirdly concocted lager-type thing that involved being processed with truffles and who knows what all else, and it topped out close to 9% in strength. It was excellent. I of course had two. And possibly more.

*(Kudos to Bin 44 – this is a new drinkery, on the waterfront in what was previously just a café ... taken over by a fellow Canadian, a friendly east-coaster to boot! He wisely fronted up with a great lineup of local craft beer on tap [and in the fridge in bottles]. He also likes "da blues" and so the music's always good. And it's on the waterfront. So it's all good).

Tonight's a 'customer appreciation' session at Bin 44, featuring beers from Garage Project, the brewery located in my 'hood*. It will likely be no end of fun ... making Thursday at work a bit of a struggle. But it's all worth it, in the end.

* (Ooo! I just found out in the middle of writing this, that Garage Project (a brewery) is going to finally have a "Cellar Door", which is a winery term for having a room where drinks are served. This is a fancy way of calling it a small pub. Prior to this, all they did was make beer and distribute it to other pubs.
I have often mentioned this to the folks involved with the brewery when I see them at beer fests – why shouldn't a brewery be allowed to have a Cellar Door so you can wander in to "sample" their wares? And then sample more? And still, more? So it seems this WILL come to pass, early in 2013! Yay for me – as Garage Project is in the 'hood where I live).

As for all the other madness ...
I'm not going to give the toolbag who shot up the school in the US last week any more free advertising by naming him. But mention should be made to certain acts of heroism that came out of that. Lots of kids died, and adults, but a few teachers sprang into action (at the cost of their own lives) to hide kids and save some of their lives. Well done.

Now to fix the problem. Sadly, much like the blind rage that seems to fuel so many people in Middle Eastern countries – the sort of madness that binds them as True Believers to the cause of blowing shit up for their religion – many Americans have that same perceived "right" burnt and bred in the bone, about owning guns.

If the Obama administration tries to take away their guns (aka: penis extensions) there could well be civil war. Because these maniacs are True Believers.

And of course mental health care is non-existant in the US, unless your crazy AND rich AND want to get help. But few crazy people are, or do.

Lots of theories abound for how to fix it. Except you can't fix or legislate "broken" people – and that's exactly the sort of creature that does this, mass-shootings of helpless children. These people are fucked up from square one. Can't fix them, can't make a law that says "no guns for you, you crazy bastard!" Because – well, they're crazy.

And there's no 2nd Amendment reason to have one – because no 'Tyrant' has ever been overthrown since that Amendment was written.

And the few terrorists who have succeeded in attacking the US on its own soil did so because they were clever, organised professionals who outsmarted all the people in the CIA and FBI and NSA and the US military combined ... so no rag-tag band of overweight, uneducated, redneck rubes and hicks with guns would make any difference in a 9/11 situation, or during the previous attack on the World Trade Centre.

A sad score indeed.

So there's no telling what can be done. The current ease of being able to get a gun in the US, and the resulting heavily-armed American populace, is just a hell of a lot of stupid, incompetent people (and a fair number of complete lunatics) with no skill or control over using a firearm. Sadly, they THINK they're all  READY to use that firearm, because they can plink a tin can at 20 paces, and have seen all the episodes of "24". But how would all these bad-ass wanna-bes actually fare? 

The answer: Badly. 

There are only a few professional humans on earth who can use a gun properly (trained special forces military people). They are the ONLY ones – the ones who practice shooting daily, and work through possible combat scenarios, and who know all about anticipating situations ... and besides having the skills, fitness and education, they KNOW what damage weapons can do in a lunatic's hands ... or in just some damn pathetic, scared, zero-confidence fool's hands, who bought a gun "just because". 

But what if the Mayans are right?

Then the whole gun issue will be moot, and this will indeed be the last edition of 5'19". But you won't care. You'll be dead. Along with everyone else! 

I'll continue with my usual M.O. either way (which is: have fun). 

I'll have maximum fun on the 21st, and if what I suspect happens – nothing –  I wake up on the 22nd saying "ouch" to a sore head. 

And once again, some mis-translated fairy tale from long ago has proven to be wrong. Again.

Let's see what the rest of this Yule season has to offer in absurdities! I'll be off work and ON HOLIDAYS (instead of in hospital for a change!) and tooling around New Zealand with my Canadian friends Jo and Ian. I won't be back to work until Jan. 24. What a concept! Finally getting to enjoy my actual Annual Leave!

Peace, in absurdity

Vertical again, just in time for summer

Upwards and onwards
I'm trying to keep from delving into all the gory details of my medical misadventures (as promised a while back), but this is worth mentioning – after my last BKA (below knee amputation) of my remaining leg, I am up, at 'em, back at work for more than a month now, and rocking my new prosthetic without crutches!

This was a timely thing in many regards. Firstly, I managed to avoid all the grunt work involved with my full-time gig, Exam Editor here in New Zealand. I got healthy enough to get back to work just after Oct. 1, our big deadline to have all the exams done, dusted and at the printer.

And onwards rolls summer! So I avoided any potential unpleasantness of a Wellington "winter" (we've covered this before. This is a concept much like the Loch Ness Monster, the Jersey Devil, and common sense and civility during USA Elections – a myth. It does not exist). And now that the days are longer and the weather warm enough to convince attractive women to don slinky and sheer summer attire, and the pub patios are under full steam – I can only say, 'Bring it on!'

Lyin', cheatin', no-good, oily-hided, swindling snake-oil salesmen
Yep, the US election came and went. And in spite of the usual nonsense spewing out of the mouths of the two candidates (moreso Robo-Romney, the clueless anti-personal billionaire who, among other things, professed to have "Binders full of women!" when confronted on his record of not really caring much about women in the workplace, or their rights).

But the sub-head up there is more directed at the media. Much like an episode of daytime TV, where the hosts often resort to goading people on to get them to argue about their insipid problems ("OK Maria, maybe you didn't hear Shaniqua – she called you a WHORE and a PUTA and a CHEATING CUNT! And, you're FAT! Go on, attack her!")

To listen to the media, as the Big Day approached, this was going to be a crazy-scary, tight election. Obama might lose. Or he could win by barely a one or two Electora Vote margin. Or, there could be a TIE! – which would result in a strange procedure, where they (whoever's in charge of US Elections) would march up to the House of Representatives (predominantly Republican) and ask them to pick a President. Clearly that would be Robo-Romney in this scenario. Then they'd stroll on over to the Senate (a den of Democrats), and ask them to choose a VP. That would no doubt have been Joe Biden. Would this weirdness transpire? Well, the MEDIA sure hoped it would!

Then election day went down. No such weirdness ensued. No tie, no close one. Robo-Romney was Chuck-Norris-Roundhouse-Kicked back to the primordial ooze from whence he crawled (a weasel making billions on the backs of millions). He was reamed, steamed, and dry-cleaned. Put butter on his forehead, he's TOAST.

But hey, he needed to get back to his billionaire gig, figuring out ways for how to not pay taxes.

It was pretty much over when it started. Obama locked up the entire north-east coast, and a few other states bordering Canada. Included in this mix were "struggle states" where it could go either way, said the MEDIA.

Nope, not even close. Obama got almost all of those. Including the much-vaunted Ohio, a bit later in the evening.

That was pretty much it, in a nutshell. He wasn't going to lose, and it wasn't going to be a tie. He was going to win. And, handily.

Then the rest of the mess unfolded. Robo-Romney was beaten like a rented mule ... like a red-headed stepchild living in the attic, who owes you money. He even managed to lose Florida (crazy, can't-count-for-shit, Florida!) Even the stooges and mush-heads, the swamp-heat addled, and the certifiably insane weren't buying Robo-Romney's bullshit.

And a week later, when the cretins, mutants, trolls and CHUDs in Florida finally got their votes counted, Obama won that state too. In the end, there wasn't much difference in the vote count than when Obama totally caned "Stiff-Neck" McCain and the mutton-brained Sarah Palin in a landslide.

Thanks for a good show, though, Media Pundits. And of course you're all safe from prolonged scorn, as no one in the US has a memory that lasts longer than a text message.

Now, Mr. Obama – you have four years to get it right. Let's pull out all the stops and get some shit done. And done right. OK?

Rock star incumbent voted back in. Now, crank it all the way to 11, good sir!

But what about the popular vote? Shouldn't the guy who got more votes overall win?
Ah, the plaintive wail of the uneducated, the stupid, and the banal.

Short answer? No. Long answer? Nooooooooooooooooooooo, you jackwagons!

Take a civics course, read a book and maybe learn something about how your own election system works. Or Canada will have to drop by and burn down the White House AGAIN.

And in the end, Obama won the meaningless "popular vote" too. Now sit down and shut up.

Catchin' a cab
One of the fun little bonuses of being a double amputee is, I got a discount cab card – all taxi rides half price! Not a bad thing. I eventually want to get walking the whole way to work again, once my fitness level comes up ... and once my new stump can take the abuse of many, many pounds of ME walking on it.

But until then, I'l avail myself of this little gem of a cab card. Makes life mucho easy.

So most days I catch a cab to work. And home again at days' end. But this one day coming home, I got into a cab and noticed this fun little sign on the kleenex box perched on the dashboard:

Clearly this guy had a guts-full of ... something?

A reasonable request I guess ... then again, you're in the taxi drivin' business, Bub. People are prone to chatting. If you're unique or unusual, questions may be asked. PERSONAL questions. So suck it up, buttercup ... 

Oddly though, 'Buttercup' had no issues with rambling on endlessly about some sort of mystical complexities involved with luck, and his lack of same. And how a guy he knows must have some sort of Wizard-like abilities, because he predicts a lot of (obvious) things. And how ... oh, we're here at my home! Thanks Bub. See ya.

Hops – so many hops - hops as far as the eye can see ...

The sudden and wonderful movement here in New Zealand to have heaps, loads, scads, and shitloads of micro-brew (aka "Craft") beer available is great! Here in Wellington, we now have no less than 6 really good pubs that are exclusively devoted to providing the many and varied beers from all sorts of local brewers. One even brews its own!

And yet lately, it seems, there aren't enough hops in the WORLD for some of these brewers. We've gone so far beyond a traditional IPA-style beer on so many fronts now, that the only way some brewers can get more hops into your face is to provide a side-order of raw hops to chew on as you chug down their ale. 

Don't get me wrong, it's mostly a good thing. I loves me some hoppy beer, properly made. I have a few favourites now too – Epic's "Hop Zombie" is, I think, my #1 ... however Tuatara's APA is an exceptionally close second. And because it is much more available than Hop Zombie, there are days that – when I have a Tuatara APA in hand – it is in fact #1. 

I love the idea that gone are the days of the "yellow fizzy beverage" that passes for beer is the only thing available. For so long, in so many places (I'm looking at YOU, USA, and primarily the swill and bog-water foisted on a foolish public in Canada, from Labatt and Molson's) this was the case. And I'll admit it – as a young and uninformed drinker in Canada, I soaked that crappy stuff up like it was a cure for ... something .... 

And before anyone writes to yell at me saying that there are great micro-brews in the US and Canada ... yes, there are. Yet the lion's share of the beer biz belongs to the nasty providers of the crappy beer-like faux stuff. Which proves two things: Marketing works, and flooding the market with the shit also works. Oh, three things – keeping the public uninformed for many generations since Prohibition also works. But thankfully people are learning ... 

Jumping the 'beer event' shark

My biggest issue now with certain pubs is ... just how far are they going to go in attempting to whip up frenzy for a "beer event", and not actually provide any event-like atmosphere?

Last Friday I discovered that one of the good pubs in town, The Malthouse, was having an IPA Challenge. In the cryptically uninformative snippet of info from FacePlant, we were meant to storm on down and get ready for an IPA event, where many local brewers would have on offer their various takes on this iconic beer style.

Yeah, about that – I got there just before the "event" started. As did many other people. And the witching hour of 6 pm came ... went ... and when I finally asked a bartender what was involved in this "event", he essentially said: he would tell me all the types of IPA they had on tap, and I could buy them and try them.

OK. So it was essentially an "event", much in the same way that my waking up every day to prepare to go to work could be billed as "The First Annual Shaking Off of the Night-Time Doldrums, and Waiting for Morning Wood to Subside, so I can Jet Out The Door and begin my day of Contributing to the Nation's Education System" festival of ... that. 

Note that this is the first such shameful advertising of a non-event as an event that I've noticed so far. But beware, pub owners and brewers: don't try this again, unless you have something event-like attached to me buying beer and swilling it. Many, MANY people will tell you – this does NOT qualify as an event. This is SOP (standard operating procedure), and/or business as usual.

On the plus side, earlier in the week I discovered one of my favourite overall beers – Captain Cooker Manuka* Smoked beer – was on TAP and REALLY CHEAP at a cool little place called Meow. Heretofore I had only been able to find it in bottles. Now this was progress! (*A kind of wood here that imparts a subtle yet tasty flavour, when the smoke is applied to things like meat and beer.)

Tasty-as! And hey, a piggie on the label. So it's fun, too!

LinkedIn ... to what, exactly?

So, the big social/work/network/thingy website LinkedIn went "public"a while ago.  And now it has shares and shit. So you can buy them. This is supposedly important. The guy on the TV news said so.

And so, suddenly, we're besieged with daily email updates as to who on my list of LinkedIn-ners did what. And maybe I want to LinkIn to some other people. And now, Endorse some of these folks! says my latest barrage of LinkedIn emails.

OK. So then what actually happens? Should I lose my gig, can I just LinkIn to anyone on my list, and they'll hire me? Or will they gleefully wax on poetically about my dazzling abilities, as some sort of reference – even though I've never worked with most of them at all, ever?

Just wondering what the fuss is all about. It seems like a really overt way of tracking us, of getting us all in a nice tidy pile, where we provide all the info and coordinates ... but then again, so is FacePlant, Twitter, Google+, et al. If anything bad comes of any of this, it's all self inflicted. I just hope once we're all together on all these sites, there is no "Chef" out there to call in the air strike ... 

"Mangoes, man! Just imagine Raquel Welch naked and rubbing mangoes all over you ... 

What? Oh, sure, I'll call in the air strike. I'll stay with the boat, and call in the air strike!"

Men At Work

As I charged out the door to start my 2nd week back at work, I noticed a flyer in my mailbox informing me the city was about to launch into tearing up my narrow, dead-end, winding, death-defying road to replace some water drainage gear. And upon reaching the road, there they were! On the case ...

Exactly what sort of case, I'm not sure. They started with the dig-a-hole, put-stuff-in-it, and fill-it-back-in routine that Monday, right outside my house. Then over the course of the week, they edged down the road, repeating, rinsing, wiping hands on pants ...

Then the next Monday – they were back. Right outside my house again. Doing exactly the same thing. Again.

This routine was repeated FIVE TIMES ... starting over outside my house, digging the road up, monkeying around, filling it in, moving on down the road a bit. 

They finally and miraculously picked up the last of their 8,543 road cones on Wednesday this week, and had buggered off into the mist – leaving the road looking like a mad patchwork pavement quilter had been on the loose.

Or ... have they? Only time will tell. It seems like these "make work" projects are common around the city, especially when more than one thing needs to be put in the hole under ground. I've witnessed three different work crews come around to a location, each one tearing up the road, installing whatever, and covering it up and paving it ... only to have the next crew show up, a day later, and repeat the process with whatever it was they deemed necessary to bury underground. 

It's good that the city is providing boundless opportunities for hordes of large, unshaven, sweaty men in orange vests to lean on shovels while smoking cigarettes all over the city. But this is pushing the envelope a bit, methinks.

Pumpkin-off 2012

Sometimes impromptu contests are the most fun. Myself and my friend Don suddenly found ourselves embroiled in a 'pumpkin off' on FacePlant, leading up to Hallowe'en this year. In a nutshell, we would post up a daily net find of an unusual, creepy, funny or weirdly carved pumpkin we found on the net ... along with some trash talking to taunt the other fellow into attempting to best that one.

What it really was, at its essence, was who could Google better with the most obscure/strange phrases (thereby turning up the oddest and goriest of pumpkins). In magnanimous fashion, Don ceded the contest to me. I think it might have been the image of him, naked save for a pumpkin diaper, in the middle of a pumpkin patch, that edged me on to victory. 

Now that is comedy gold, no matter WHO you are.
Also, he who commands Photoshop, wins the war!

(Hint: That's not really Don).

Ah, the old "Philandering and emailing about it and hoping not to get caught" trick!

First time I fell for it ... today. Sorry about that, Chief ... 

What is up with these fools, cretins and poltroons in the public eye, who keep getting caught with their pants down online/on video? Especially the famous ones ... and REALLY especially, the ones in charge of shit. Like keeping big US State secrets.

Yeah, I'm looking at you, Petraeus. And whoever that other dimwit General is. Not satisfied with your wife? Divorce her. Then go rent a hooker, and don't TELL anyone about it. And don't tell the hooker you're famous, or that you have a really big gun. Or are in charge of lots of guns. 

Indeed. Cut it out. No one's impressed. And you look like an idiot.

Once again, the mystery and wizardry of thermostats eludes Kiwis

As great as this place is, there are of course a few things that make me shake my head ... like how to control the heat in an office building. 

Apparently, that concept is Holy Grail-ish here. Unattainable. Impossible. IT CAN'T BE DONE.

After moving floors to have our floor (and office space) renovated, and new duct work and thermostats installed ... I'm back in my original chair, in the same spot I was before ... only sweating WORSE than I ever was.

And this time, the new, improved thermostats are sealed up and can't be monkeyed with! So yesterday I ordered a desk fan ... at least I can move the hot air around me a bit. That might help. 

Or it might drive me out to the sunny seaside patios even sooner (the patios with a whisp of sea breeze to keep me cool) ... 

Hmm! OK, maybe this whole "too hot in the office" thing is a GOOD development!

The good with the bad

OK so I shouldn't be whinging. This was mostly self-inflicted. I knew what was going on. But I got caught up (once again) in thinking a phenomenal-looking woman might actually, maybe, possibly be interested in me, when reality and all things logical should have schmecked me upside the head and said: "Who are you kidding, you legless lummox? LOOK at her! Now ... look at you. Yeah. Go home and lie down." 

Yes she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. But apparently she just liked to play "Look at me. LOOK AT ME! No, not over there. LOOK AT ME!" with guys. A lot.  But in the immortal words of the funny TV show Arrested Development: "No touching!"

And the other tagline: "I've made a huge mistake". Oh yeah.

In spite of being engaged to someone far, far away (she claimed), and in spite of me being warned by mutual friends about what was up in 'crazy-lady land', I plodded on. But what the hell. I went for it and had a bit of fun thinking maybe, just maybe, the right combination of my humour, and alcohol, and weed, and duct tape, and ether, would make me the first lucky winner in these Lunatic Sweepstakes ... ha ha. Nope. 

But hey some GOOD things have happened of late! I have reconnected with heaps of old pals on FacePlant over the years, and two of them (Jo and Ian) are going to be here in NZ visiting me early in January '13! I'll take two weeks off, and join them in a casual mosey about the country, touring around to many places I haven't been to myself. It's going to be a blast – I've known Jo since Grade 5. Earlier this year their lovely daughter Elly came through Welly on a trek of her own. It's fantastic to reconnect with old friends – people who matter!

And just lately I've made a more solid e-connection with a 'casual acquaintance' I only just knew online from being on a news forum (Fark) a few years before (hi Kellas!) She's cool and funny and artistic. A great new friend! And another old amigo (Kari-Anne) reconnected online, with some good news about a couple of really positive things happening in her life in Norway. So it was good news all around! 

Honorable (and late, sorry guys!) mention goes to my newfound Russian (and vicinity) friends – who I met via the Wacky 48 Hour Movie Competition from earlier this year. There are a bunch of them (Alex, Olga, Olga II, Marina, etc) and they're all really fun and REALLY like to drink and party. (What's that you say? Russians like to party?) Yes, indeed.

Too much, too soon, too fast – slow down, dudes, we can't take the pace!

I'm an Apple customer. I have been since the fateful day I got my first gig here in Welly, which involved me getting to use Macs on the job. I had played with them a bit prior to this ... and yet, since being capable of getting my own computer, it was Windows machines for quite a few years. The cost of getting a Mac was the key issue. I was a broke-ass putz. (Now, not quite so broke-ass).

Then one day in the mid-naughties, I took the plunge and got my first iMac. This was after session # (hmmm, I lost count how many) of reformatting my POS Windows machine, after trying to make it work like something resembling the promise of how computers were supposed to work.

It was like I'd crossed a threshold, and now I spent all my time actually USING my computer, and not trying to find out ways to make it work/go faster/stop crashing/what the fuck is WRONG with this goddamn fucking stinking thing?!?! ad nauseum. 

Since that first iMac (the "monitor on an arm over an igloo" looking one) I am now on my third iMac (big honkin' 27" screen beast that's only about 1.5 years old now). Nothing was ever wrong with them to force me into replacing them – computers (even good ones that work) get old, fast. It's the unavoidable obsolescence of computers – two years into the fray and they're well past the capabilities of the latest software. I also have a MacBook Pro laptop (purchased on a lark, when I was making obscene amounts of money at the silliest job I ever had – I wanted a laptop to take with me on my trip to visit Erin in Brisbane!) and of course an iPad (version 2), and an iPhone (the 4S, for those keeping track). There's also an AppleTV hooked up to my big-ass (not Apple!) Panasonic home theatre system.

I list the years and model numbers here, because, in just a BLINDINGLY short period of time for each toy – since I got it – new versions have been unleashed on us. Faster, and faster come the releases ... seemingly only a few months apart now. 

So fast, in fact, that now I have to say – well, have a look at the subhead up there. SLOW DOWN you bastards. We don't need a new whatever every 4 to 6 months. Wait a year, put all your latest slam-bang advancements into the thing at once (don't trickle them out 1 or 2 at a time), THEN foist it on those of us who can afford to upgrade. 

Case in point: the iPhone 5 (the model just out now, after my 4S was released) emerged not long ago. And word down the pipe yesterday has it that the 5S is in production. Fookin' 'ell!

And when they released the iPhone 5, they also released a shrunken iPad (mostly just a bloated iPhone without the phone guts), and a new-ish regular sized iPad, making it v. 4 (I have the v. 2). And of course a new, sleeker, faster iMac. This one's 3 versions newer than my one, which as mentioned, is only 1.5 or maybe 2 years old now. 

I'm a regular reader of a couple of weekly columnists, Robert Cringely, and Bob Lefsetz. Both have recently opined that we have hit a 'tech wall' with all these gizmos – not just Apple, but everything. In short, all the amazing levels of technology we now enjoy with the "new" gear has been attained for some time ... nothing new has emerged right now. 

The jump from 4S to 5 with the iPhone was just ... slightly better versions of the toys the 4S had. And some don't work in New Zealand yet. So, no point in me getting a v. 5. 

Same with everything else. Nothing jumped up from the latest releases of the iPad or iMac that made me go "Wow! Must have!" It was just marginally better/improved tech in the existing stuff (more intense looking monitor image, slightly faster operating speed, a few more megapixels in the cameras). And slightly thinner. And a touch longer, but not wider. Yawn. Nope, not gonna upgrade. My current gear does that, and it's not worth another big chunk of change to just go a wee bit faster.

Indeed, we have hit the "Wow Wall". These mavins and geniuses and wizards at Apple need to come up with something radically new to draw in a jaded (no, make that complacent) public, to spark up a fever pitch for the next "new" thing they whip out for us. We love the stuff. It's amazing. But you've WOW'd us over the head so often with actual new and cool stuff, we're not going to fall for a snake-oil salesman claiming a few more pixels on a screen is WOW-worthy.

Granted, Apple has done nothing BUT innovate since Steve Jobs returned to take over Apple in 1997, and started making gear that made us go "Wow!" every year. (Not only just saying "Wow" but forcing terms like iPod and iPad and iPhone into regular daily conversation faster than any other term has ever been absorbed).

And Micro$erf, as mentioned in a previous blog, has done nothing except parrot and mimic ... it has just sat there like the big, dumb, uncoordinated (but rich – due to being lucky, in the right place, at the right time, many years prior) neighbourhood kid who sucks at everything, hasn't got an original thought in his head, and no one likes him – who jumps up well after the game has been going for a long time, to shout: "Hey I can kick the ball too!" And then he does it ... badly ... and the ball's up on the roof now. 

For the slow kid, and Micro$oft, the game was over before it started.

So now the only solution to making more and more stacks of cash for Apple seems to be falling back on the lame 'rapid-fire' idea ... releasing minorly-improved gear at us faster and faster, machine-gun style. Pretty soon they're going to have to get back into the WOW business, because people are going to stop buying the only-slightly shinier toy.

Well that's about all the rumpus I can think of / got up to recently. I'm at work right now writing all this, so after a beer or two after work I may think of other stuff.

But that's another Blog entry.

Yours in absurdity,

Stevil

Mystery ninja visits, crazy old men yelling at chairs, and other musings

Who 'dat at mah door?
Some time ago I mentioned I'd been 'drunk dialed' by a woman. I opined that being drunk-dialed by someone keen on jumping your bones was a GOOD thing. Especially when, not long after the drunk-dialing ensues, said bones get jumped.

I still maintain this is so. The bone-jumping did indeed ensue over Xmas and New Years just past. And lo, it was fun.

Now it seems there is another level to this titter-giggle-I-like-you-but-first-I'm-going-to-play-coy behaviour: secret and ninja-like visits to leave stuff at my door.

Here's the rumpus.

Over the last couple of weeks I have noticed my mail (snail mail) has been left right on the door jam of my front door. This is being accomplished by someone, but I don't know who or which girl (I am of course hoping it's an attractive female) – and I know it's not the postie, because no postie goes past a mailbox and walks down steps to leave mail on someone's doorstep.

At first I assumed it was one of the two girls living in the suite downstairs. But then a few days ago I saw the shadow (viewed through the opaque glass of my front door) of my mystery benefactor-ninja going UP the steps and leaving ... and when I wheeled over to the door, there was my mail again. This was the first time I'd caught a glimpse of my secret admirer ... but it got me to thinking a bit harder ...

This was clearly not either of the downstairs neighbours. I reckoned that, first of all, they don't know I'm currently gibbled and not very mobile while I recover from surgery. We're not close friends and only usually say "hi!" when we see each other outside the house. Second of all, the person went UP the steps and left. This was not someone coming home, checking the mail, and dropping mine off as they continued down stairs.

And then I began wondering harder ... who WAS that?

No further clues were forthcoming. And so I plodded on with my day.

Until last night – a KNOCK at my door at 9.30 pm. As I often do when someone knocks, I just shout: "Hark! Who goeth there?" (actually, I shout "Come in!" as I can't be arsed to get into my wheelchair and roll around to the door, especially if someone has decided just to drop by and not call/text me first). Usually, however, visitors/couriers/pizza guys knock on my door on or before 6 pm. Not 9.30 pm. So that was odd ....

However, no one came in, and there were no further knocks. A short while later I rolled around in my chair on a bathroom/new wine bottle/sammich circuit, and decided to peek outside my door.

A small plastic bag with some samosas and fries was hanging off the door knob. They were well packaged and wrapped, and still warm.

So my mail-dropping ninja had graduated to leaving food. No, I did not eat it. While I do like to be drunk-dialed and e-stalked (this has happened via FacePlant) and even drunkenly hit on in bars .... I draw the line at eating mystery food. There's crazy and devil-may-care behaviour, and then there's stupid.

Hmm. Now who was this?

Prior to the knock, I had been drinking and chatting with a friend online, and so immediately announced this latest development, and launched into a guessing game as to which of the several women I know this might be.

Clearly it wasn't the one I was chatting to online. But I started to firm up a suspect list, thinking of who would do such a thing, yet who would NOT follow through and just knock and come in and say hi. And, of course, jump my bones. Or at least be summarily plied by gallons of wine, beer and vodka, and THEN jump my bones.

I decided to send out two texts soon after the knocking and mystery food drop – one each to the two most likely suspects by my estimation and mulling over of the clues (no answer from each, a day later), and I asked a mate of mine (via FacePlant) who knows of another woman who might have done such a thing, but as it was Friday last night, he has not emerged from Hangover Hell yet to check his FacePlant.

The mystery continues into the next day (now). No further clues or visits ... unless she's lurking in the bushes now, watching and waiting. Good thing I don't scare easy ...

Come on out, Mystery Ninja! Or rather, come on in. Free drinks! And of course a willing bone-jumping victim awaits ...

This just in: crazy, senile old man yells at empty chair on TV
By now everyone has seen this disgraceful, awful, terrifyingly stupid and WTF moment: Clint Eastwood humiliating himself at the US Republican National Convention, by taking the stage and shouting at an empty chair.

I love Clint Eastwood for his past track record of providing us with sensationally fun action movies (cowboy, cop) starring him. He has also directed some great movies. He is also a musician and likes and promotes jazz, by making movies about jazz greats, and having cool jazz music in most of his movies.

But now Clint is old. And apparently, senile and crazy. We could see what he MEANT to do – a faux interview of President Obama, without Obama actually being there, in an attempt to look wry and clever. But to do so by ad-libbing some wild, insane rambling stupidity to an empty chair ... no. Just, no. Clint, you looked insane, senile and crazy.

It's time to go lay down and relax and stop showing up in public. Go and enjoy your money while you can, Clint. You're finished. Stop tarnishing the great memories of all your fantastic past successes. You looked STUPID.

InstaGram: the lastest thing that makes me go WTF?
Just a quick note about this latest craze people seem to be using when posting up photos on FacePlant.

Why?

Everything Instagram does to photos are the sorts of things I try to FIX when I see these horrible effects  show up on photos without going through Instagram. Why do we need to see current photos with a yellow tint, or have bad, unnatural lighting and unrealistic colour skews, or feature some lame attempt to make them look olde-timey? Please stop.

Shoot first, avoid reality later
I have sounded off for how much I love "The Newsroom". It's a great new Aaron Sorkin show with the usual snappy dialogue and obvious 'wishful thinking' presentation, (like The West Wing was – a fairy tale view of how the US Presidency SHOULD be, not how it really is). The Newsroom shows what TV news SHOULD be like, not the info-tainment with zero relevance or depth or truth that we see on a regular basis. If only ...

Not long ago there was a string of reports out of South Africa, where protesting miners were being shot, and killed, by S. African police. The miners had no weapons, they were just chanting and yelling and protesting. And the cops showed up and gunned a bunch of them down.

This footage was on TV. Of course, no teams of US Military specialists sprang into action and showed up to restore peace, because there is no oil to speak of in South Africa.

Then just yesterday, it was reported that the miners (a group of 130+ of them) who were still alive from the protest shootings are being charged with the murder of their friends and co-workers that the police were filmed killing.

And somehow, inexplicably, the TV news is reporting exactly this! Amazeballs! Let's see what happens next ... likely not much, as no one really cares what goes on in S. Africa, now that Apartheid was defeated. But we never know.

When the lying just gets too overt
Perhaps another positive outcome of The Newsroom ... FOX News reported on their site recently that a speech given by Vice-Presidential hopeful Paul Ryan was full of lies! And, skirted the big issues!

No clue if FOX also reported this on their TV network. Perhaps their "going out on a limb" by printing this on their website isn't really being all that daring ... considering fans of their crazy, right-wing propaganda don't (or can't) read.

Having no end of fun with the lies
Of course The Daily Show is having a field day with all the US Election lies, especially those steaming out of the RNC ... on the day prior to The Daily Show's response to Clint's crazy old senile man chair rant, they had on former RNC Chairman Michael Steele who told the truth about the stack of bullshit the current bunch of Republican hopefuls was spewing. 

Check out the full interview here.

Can't wait to see what The Daily Show does with the Chair Rant! (Go ahead, Clint – make ... no sense?!)

Yes indeed. These are the days of some FINE absurdities!

A robustly erratic week!

What a short, yet rapidly strange trip this week has been
Waking up most mornings, I roll over and turn affectionately to the sleek, sultry, purring thing next to me in bed – my Macbook Pro laptop – and proceed to fumble around like a teenager trying to unhook a bra for the first time, punching buttons and looking to see what might be new and interesting in the world.

I also go through my emails for the funny/lusty stuff I regularly get from my pal Don in (near) Toronto. But that's a whole other sordid story. It's the news (or what passes for news) that has been of note this past week. It's been a multi-faceted rumpus!

This past week has been ... interesting ... in the way that huge waves and voilent winds make ocean boat rides "interesting".

Give us back the Gold! 
Some medal winners at the Olympics had been caught doping and instantly disqualified, and forced to turn over their medals – thereby moving everyone else in the respective events' medal queue up a notch. New Zealand's own female shotput champ Valerie Adams jumped from Silver to Gold when the Gold winner (someone of questionable gender from Belorussia, with an unpronouncable name) made the drug testing meter go "ding ding ding!" And a few other folks got caught chem-cheating too.

So I quickly rubbed the sleep from my eyes and amended my ongoing 'chart' of Kiwi medal winners to reflect NZ athletes now had won SIX Golds (to Canada's ONE ... come on, Great White North, WTF?! You've been outclassed, outshone, and taken to school by a country that's 1/8th your population), and reposted said graphic to FacePlant for all to see and enjoy.

Absurdly, Adams seemingly got rattled prior to her turn at putt-ing for the (money) shot, when it was revealed some fuckwit in the NZ Olympic camp forgot to enter her name in the competition. Yeah, the one female athlete everyone here in NZ had been rabbiting on about for really having a massive chance of winning gold, and some dweeb in an office somewhere forgot to sort out her entry for the event? Think that person will ever work in a detail-oriented gig again? (Cue Tui advert: "Yeah, right!")

Then even more absurdly, a while later – when all of New Zealand was eager to see their 13 medal winning heroes show up back home for the massive celebration planned – Adams was not among the crew. She immediately buggered off from London to Sweden (!!!) where she regularly lives and trains (!!!) to compete in some other shot-put event.

Yes, really. I'm not kidding. There was another event looming large on the highly anticipated and much-bally-hoo'd world of shot-put events ... and really, you need to live in Sweden to train to huck an iron ball? New Zealand doesn't have the climate for such training? What's the missing ingredient? Absolut Vodka?

Come on, Valerie. Your country was cheering you on rabidly during the Olympics. They got behind you even when you only managed Silver. Then Kiwis lost their shit and really rallied 'round you when the cheat was exposed, and you got your justly-deserved Gold.

And then ... you couldn't flit back here for a few days to say "Thanks for all the support"? Or join your Olympic team-mates in a show of solidarity?

Try and imagine how much we all care about shot-put now.

Which of course begs the follow-up questions: other than the Olympics and the Commonwealth Games, why are there other shot-put events? How does anyone make money at promoting, or competing in, these arcane events anyway? Who ponies up enough sponsorship money for an athlete like Adams to train for 4 years leading up to an Olympics ... and what do they get back for their investment? The company name on the side of an iron shot? ... which can't be read at all, by anyone – even the shot-putters? This one eludes me.

And if a poll were to be taken, who in the WORLD would know there was another significant shot-put event so soon after the Olympics? Or even that there were even other shot-put events at all?

You'll take the mockery, and you'll LIKE it!
In a bit of a tangent from the Games being over, I stumbled onto the existence of a string of free Podcasts by American comedian Greg Proops. He has been cranking out regular weekly podcasts of his live gigs in bars and saloons and rumpus rooms around the world ... I've always liked Proops from the short bits I've seen of him on TV shows like Who's Line Is It Anyway?, Letterman and Conan (the first Conan shows, when he was on really late after Letterman, and also when he was new, edgy and actually funny).

Proops' podcasts are quite long – averaging out at well over an hour. He has a loyal legion of fans world-wide. He translates well to UK audiences – doesn't pander or wave his dick around like an arrogant uneducated fool, knows stuff about where he is, and learns more stuff from interacting with the audience (for an American comic, this is huge).

And he is prodigious. He's done tons of these gigs, it seems ... and as I started into them, I realised I had stumbled on the American version of another much-loved comedian, Eddie Izzard. The two are similar in that they're intelligent, well read, topical, have an expanded vocabulary, and are scintillatingly and cleverly scathing in their mockery of things that deserve to be mocked.

Proops dug in to the Olympics a fair bit over his 3-4 most recent 'casts, and in particular, spun out some really good stuff on the ponderous, questionable and bizarre job Danny Boyle did on the Opening Ceremonies. He also questioned the validity of certain sports within the game – as I also did in my last Blog. (*brushes my knuckles on my jacket, looks aloof and cool*)

And the man is screamingly funny. Given the length of each of these 'casts, he really gets to stretch out and show his chops. He has a sort of a template for his shows, but often gets lured off the plan, given absurd enough current events, or audience input. In a small way it is improv, but it's so much more. He has an agenda (a few actually) – to educate, enlighten, inform ... and of course, to rant and rage against complacency and 'idiocracy' (yes, just like the movie). He's an ardent feminist and regularly points out the world's indiscretions against women.

I have NO idea how he makes money on these shows – entrance to most of them are free for the live audience. And the Podcasts are free. I assume these are 'sparring matches' for him, keeping him fresh and alert and in the game for other projects. But man, what a treat. I can't get enough of them.

I've even interrupted my regular influx of downloaded TV shows and movies to listen to them in marathon stints.

A surprising suicide
I also awoke bleary-eyed one morning to learn that one of my favourite directors, Tony Scott, aced himself in grand style – with a plunge off a really high bridge in LA.

The jury's still out on why he may have done that ... and I'm hoping it's not another lame "I couldn't handle the success and fame" thing. I have no respect for anyone who does that ... Heath Ledger comes to mind. He just offed himself, leaving behind a family and people who gave a shit about him. He didn't have a fatal disease. He just decided he'd check out because the fame, fortune and adulation was too much. Fuck you, Ledger, you coward.

Tony Scott made some great movies and provided much entertainment. He was an action-driven counterpoint to his brother Ridley's more nuanced style (Ridley's my favourite director).

Still shaking my head about this one. Will we ever learn why Tony checked himself out? Stay tuned.

Crown jewels go viral
Yep, one of the UK's princes got caught having fun without clothes on ... and photographed, and of course, said pics were digitally warped around the world virally for all to see.

But in a surprising twist, young prince Harry was doing so with a nubile and attractive female. In Vegas. After also being filmed having drunken fun in a pool party with a bunch of like-minded funsters.

The horror! A young man with stacks of money and nothing but free time likes to have FUN! And have SEX! What is the world coming to?

Well all righty then! At least one of the Royals appears to be human. Go Harry. Considering all the embarrassing shenanigans from your father, the snootiness and aloofness of your granny, and the various sessions of ass-hattery from your other Royal relatives, who cares? This bit of news I liked.

Tour de Drugs
The week not even close to over, I awake once again to learn Lance Armstrong has given up his many-year battle to fight allegations he doped to win all 7 of his Tour de France events.

He's just thrown his hands in the air and said "Fuck it. Not gonna fight this any more".

Once again the jury's out on who's leading the charge on this, and just how they can 'prove' he used drugs in 7 annual events dating back to 1999. That's 13 years ago for the first one. Certainly there is only an extremely short launch window for testing for performance-enhancing drugs ... like say, 24-48 hours?

On one hand, this certainly seems like a witch hunt. But on the other hand, has someone – the USADA – finally had the balls (testicular cancer pun not intended) to pursue this properly?

We once again need to wait and see what happens – does the USADA have any sway or say in all of this? Or are they just being Attention Whores to get in the news?

Music writer and all-round witty guy Bob Lefsetz seems to think it's the former – that the USADA is the first agency to man up and say what's what.

Let's see what transpires.

A bad week for guys named Armstrong
Just back to add to this – to say Neil Armstrong has died.

First man on the moon and a real pioneer. I remember seeing the moon landing on TV as a 10 year old kid, and it completely captured my imagination. I went out and got models of the lunar landing, and collected the bubble gum cards. And I've been a space and sci-fi nut ever since – the other man who recently died who really sparked my imagination about all this was Ray Bradbury.

These men shall be missed.

e-Panhandling
The internet is a wondrous thing.

Besides all the stuff we've been used to doing with it for many years now (email, surfing for information, gaming, instant messaging, gambling, porn, running a business), now we have 'virtual' methods of sitting on a street corner with our hands out, begging for money.

This could be considered seeking out venture capital in an "e" way.

This could also be considered being lazy and looking for an easy way to get free money.

Here's the rumpus.

I have two friends who've looked to the 'net with the ultimate goal of using it as a tool for promoting and marketing a piece of their own artistic work – a book they have written.

Scenario 1
My mate can be called an established author, as she wrote and self-published (in printed version) her first novel 2-3 years ago. It was a wonderfully entertaining docu-drama about a place and a time in history, near and dear to her heart. She breathed real life and character into her heroine, the main character.

There were some self-promoting avenues available then, using the net, back in those days. Without spending much money (and without asking people for any money – she used her own), she did OK with this book – but of course did not instantly become a millionaire and a household name as an author.

She realised such things take hard work and time. You need to do the hard yards and get yourself established. Precious few get famous overnight and make fat stacks of cheddar ... and of the ones who do, their 'product' is often a flash in the pan, a fad that burns fast and bright and is just as quickly forgotten. (See: Rebecca Black's "Friday" atrocity).

She did look to her network of friends, acquaintances and business colleagues, as a method of both helping out if they felt compelled, when politely asked (with editing, proof reading and style suggestions) – and, as a way of "getting the word out". You know – "Hey, I've written a book, here's what it's about. Tell your family and friends!"

More recently, she launched into a second book. This novel was a departure in more ways than one – while the first effort was a historical drama, this new one was a modern horror/vampire tale. I haven't read it yet.

Once again, she self-published. Only this time, NOT with the idea of having a printed product ... she approached it completely from an e-book standpoint. She'd seen the studies and reports. People have been taking to the whole e-book idea rapidly, and in large numbers. So much so, that the printed-book business world (aka the "old school way of doing things") is starting to panic ...

And, realising the astounding number of ways you can self-promote now using the myriad social networking tools available on the 'net, she hunkered down and went to work – taking her finished product in hand, she got the e-book formatted and uploaded to a few different outlets (inexpensive ones like Smashwords, and established giants like Amazon and iTunes Bookstore). This of course costs a bit of money, but nothing like what it costs to go through an actual publishing house for printed books ... or even setting up a 'print on demand' thing like Amazon also offers. And certainly not $5 K in an iffy attempt at cashing in on some vague promises (more on this in Scenario 2).

They key here is the work she did herself. She gets up early every day (still does!) and goes to work – an oddly bootstrappy concept – and hammers websites dedicated to the book's genre (horror/vampires). She amasses reviewer names and has a Twitter, YouTube and Facebook account dedicated to promoting her book. She makes an e-nuisance of herself, but in a good way ... making a name for yourself with any artistic endeavour (be it writing, painting, film making, photography, etc) means going to work every day. And trying to make yourself known.

The 'net now allows us to do this. It's mostly free  – you do have to pay for a net connection and have a computer. It's really easy – you can do it in your pajamas, unshaven and unshowered, at home. You can sleep in and work nights.

But it's not automatic ... you have to go to work. You have to get up in the morning, and/or use all your free time, and focus on promoting yourself.

And now, there are also a number of (legit) websites that will help you – for lack of a better term – e-Panhandle. Yep, you can beg online for money.

Scenario 2
This part illustrates going entirely the 'e-Panhandling' route.

I first learned of these e-Panhandling promotional websites via a bounce from an article on Gizmodo, the site that features new and wondrous gizmos and tech toys. I subscribe to their emails, as often the gizmos are appealing. It's fun reading ... my dad used to get magazines like Popular Mechanics and Popular Science, and it was the same sort of thing. Fun articles on actual new gizmos, and some "what if" flights of fancy.

One day I read something on Gizmodo about a new iPhone case. This case seemed to be a hell of a good idea – shock and water-proof, not too bulky (I don't like the idea of getting a huge chunky case for my sleek iPhone – defeats the whole purpose of the sleekness of the design) ... AND, with a built-in solar charging panel! Imagine, not needing a charge cable when you're out and about for the day!

This really intrigued me. I read on, and determined this product didn't yet exist ... it was only just now being pitched as a concept, and was in development – the guys who envisioned it were going through a site called Kickstarter to e-Panhandle for funds.

The way Kickstarter works, you convince them your idea is legit and sane. You have done your due diligence, and you have a good idea (business plan) for how much it'll cost to take your idea from concept to production to finished product, ready for punters to buy.

If all this seems realistic to Kickstarter's gurus, they launch your plea for funds (here's the e-Panhandling part). You agree on a set dollar amount you need to get it all happening, and Kickstarter promotes the hell out of it, asking net-izens for 'donations'. People like me discover the campaign when other sites like Gizmodo catch wind of it, and mention it.

There is a time limit for the e-Panhandling project, and after you hit the deadline, if you don't make the nut in $ donations, your project is cancelled, and none of the donators get charged.

If the donation benchmark is achieved, it's a go – and for your donation, you get something. There are a number of donation levels, with one level being close to what a brand new case will cost you, once they retail the things.

It's of course a bit cheaper at this level, to make it appealing. So if you pony up the $100 for a donation to the cause (in this iPhone case scenario), and IF they make their agreed-on amount in donations (it was $75,000) you get a case (which would ultimately retail for $150) ... a $50 savings, and you feel good about being in on the ground floor of something new and cool.

I thought: "Good deal!" So I donated $100. It was win/win. If they make the nut, I get a case. If they don't, no cost to me. It was a success for these guys ... and very soon, I'll be getting this amazingly cool sounding iPhone case ... they're in the final stages of sending out the new cases to folks like me who fronted up with the $100.

The other side of this e-Panhandling thing isn't so cut and dried when it comes to how much work the original creator puts into it.

Another friend of mine is using a similar promotional website (like Kickstarter) to beg for money to get his novel published. The raised money for this particular scheme is handed over to a professional and established industry 'editor' who also claims to have his finger on the pulse of publishing house decision-makers – and promises to get the finished product on their desks.

Now – there's no actual guarantee the book will get published. But my pal is going through with the idea of trying to raise the $5 K anyway, by e-Panhandling ... in spite of already having been summarily separated from some of his own hard-earned money to have a couple of movie scripts "looked over" by an "industry professional" who promised to "get the scripts onto the desk of the guys who make the decisions".

Yeah – a lot of maybes there, and of course after the money and scripts were sent, no big movie deals were forthcoming. Money wasted, lesson learned? Clearly not.

What are the chances of a big publishing deal ensuing from a first-time novel going to some dude who's got his hand out waiting for his $5 K fee? Sure, he may have some long-ago industry cred from an editing standpoint. But who can guarantee such a thing as getting published and marketed after that? He doesn't work for the publishing company. He's his own gig, an editor. That's it.

But not only that ... I'm concerned that my pal seems far too eager to take the perceived easy route with this e-Panhandling site, and isn't contributing anything himself – money, or, the idea of going to work and approaching the whole project the same way my first friend did ... doing the hard yards, going to work every day.

And no – I haven't donated any money. I strongly feel the $5 K is going to disappear into the coffers of this "editor" and nothing will come of the whole plan of a published and marketed novel.

My pal could have launched his campaign at friends by saying "We've drained the savings and have $XX on loan from the bank to get this started. Now, can you help me reach the finish line with a few bucks? And while I wait for the donations to roll in, I'll be creating a FaceBook and Twitter and YouTube site for the book, and contacting some sci-fi websites and forums ... marketing and promoting the book!"

Nope. It was just "please give me money". No mention of any of his own dough or time.

The key issue (and main difference from my iPhone case scenario) is, first and foremost – the iPhone case was a physical product I wanted, and I'd get one cheaper than buying it later for retail, and it seemed the donation idea was surging along – the creators had done their business plan research, they'd kicked in a bunch of dough already with R&D, and Kickstarter agreed that they were on the right track.

Then there is asking friends to donate, and begging for more daily ... chipping in a cash donation to a pal who hasn't mentioned what he has put in cash-wise is a HUGE ask.

And then there is this modern era of many, many actual charities out there trying to raise funds to save lives ... looking for money to help cure diseases or feed famine-stricken or war-torn or oppressed populations.

It seems to be a massive bit of cheek for someone to come along and beg for some dough for a flight of fancy (pay for my novel to be published!) ... especially with no mention of how much of my pal's own life savings (or a credit loan from his own bank or credit card) is already being risked ... if any.

The first stage of my pal's plan here, with the raising of this money via the e-Panhandling site (and the subsequent begging of friends to front up with donations – the website doesn't seem to have attracted too many other punters from the ether to donate) is primarily to hand the $5 K raised over to this 'established industry editor' to edit, then push the novel on to be printed in a traditional (and outdated, and dying) way. Of course, the publishing company will promote and market the novel (says the editor). But how much marketing will happen? After the 'editor' takes his big fee, how much of that $5 K will be left for marketing and promotion? Even the entire $5 K wouldn't go far for that.

For this first stage of the plan ... the concept of looking to his immediate circle of friends for this portion of the game seems to have eluded my mate.

The circle of friends includes lots of people who believe in his creativity. At least one of these friends (ahem) has 'mad skills' as an editor (both grammatically, and in style/concept/content, as I'm a huge fan of the sci-fi genre). I also have a really good grip on what's needed to 'output' an e-book original manuscript, and how to get said e-book manuscript uploaded to Amazon, iTunes, and other sites (at fairly minimal cost – compared to handing over $5 K to this other dude with NO guarantees of quality or end result as a printed and promoted hard-copy novel).

Other friends in the immediate circle are also fans of the genre (sci fi) and are smart and educated, and could and would – if politely asked – read the manuscript and offer insights, suggestions, and constructive criticism.

Then of course, over and above this initial stage of polishing the manuscript to within an inch of its life and getting it formatted and up on the e-book outlets ... the going to work  part needs to start – the promoting, the Twittering, the FaceBooking, the YouTubing, and the pestering of sci-fi websites with information about the new book.

Get the e-book up and happening, and then once it's selling and gaining fame ... launch printed copies at people who want them, via a print-on-demand service, such as what Amazon provides ... for anyone who might not be into the whole e-book thing.

Sadly the allure of potential easy money (via the e-Panhandling site), without going to work and doing any grassroots promotion of the book ... and counting on all the donations to come from friends with no appearance of fronting up with any of his own money ... may spell failure for my pal.

With less than a day to go for the e-Panhandling site deadline, the $ nut is likely not going to be met.

And so perhaps the whole 'ask your friends for help instead of cash' idea may yet come into play.

Well, Kittens McTavish! I may have been listening to a bit too much Greg Proops ... he does have an element of a "common sense rant" to many of his Podcasts. (And that's a catch-phrase of his, too ... kittens!)

Yours in absurdity ...
Stevil