...over Mulholland.
On occasion I read the news.com comments, as I think I've mentioned, although I'm really trying to quit.
Much as I am trying to quit reading overly dramatic teenage angst type blogs written by twenty somethings who know everything but have forgotten they're old enough to know better(trouble with that is it doesn't leave very many - on the other hand, that's a good thing - I would rateher read about someone's cat than a tortured sycophantic discussion of right wing politics, or left wing politics for that matter).
The blogs I have come to terms with and tend to stick with the ones with fewer comments.
As for news.com, I propose a solution.
When you go to make a comment a question appears:
Please choose one of the following:
A: I’m making this comment because I know a bloke this happened to therefore this makes me qualified to give my opinion.
B: I’m making this comment because I’m interested in contributing to this debate in a meaningful manner.
C: I’m making this comment just to stir shit up.
D: I’m a moron.
Answering yes to any of these makes the website send your computer a cookie.
Subsequently, the next time you type “your” when you mean “you are” the cookie sends a message to the motherboard, causing the monitor to explode. Shrapnel embeds itself in the part of the brain that controls the fingers, rendering you unable to type.
Because people that comment on news.com news stories have too much time on their hands and need to be stopped, regardless of their motivation, and the mangling of the English language is just the final nail.
On second thought, maybe I’ve had too much coffee today.
Friday 28 September 2007
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Cause we're stoppin' all stations....
Buenas tardes señores y señoras.
It seems my brain is about to collapse under the sheer weight of spreadsheets (although I am inordinately proud of the effectives of my “sumproduct” formula, and its effectives at evaluating data according to various criteria, although given the size of the dataset involved, perhaps a dsum would be better, but then the complexity….arrrgggh).
So I’ve decided to take a break and take up the South American story again.
When last we spoke we were halfway through our jaunt around the Peruvian part of Lake Titicaca, on our way to Taquile - an actual island.
We hopped of the boat, and started our walk over the top of the island – the path was nicely paved for a change.
It seems my brain is about to collapse under the sheer weight of spreadsheets (although I am inordinately proud of the effectives of my “sumproduct” formula, and its effectives at evaluating data according to various criteria, although given the size of the dataset involved, perhaps a dsum would be better, but then the complexity….arrrgggh).
So I’ve decided to take a break and take up the South American story again.
When last we spoke we were halfway through our jaunt around the Peruvian part of Lake Titicaca, on our way to Taquile - an actual island.
We hopped of the boat, and started our walk over the top of the island – the path was nicely paved for a change.
The Taquileños live by the creed of don’t be lazy, among other things, so there are no beasts of burden, cars, bikes any sort of labour saving devices on the island (although I saw a tv there, and I reckon it had a zapper doover). This is a view looking back across the lake to Bolivia.
Eucalyptus trees – a strangely familiar sight. Apparently they were introduced by the Spanish from here because they’re hardy, to stop erosion, etc, and now they’re close to being an invasive species.
A more long range shot looking back across the lake. That white bit there is the Cordillera Blanca in Bolivia (sorry the link is in Spanish – the English wiki entry points to the Peruvian one) across the other side of the lake.
This is the main square of the village. The little girl was trying to sell us little woven bracelets – school was on strike – and she enlisted her little brother, who was one of the cutest kids around. We relented and tried to buy one of the kid, but he got scared and ran away. His sister saw the lost sale and whacked him.
So he whacked her back.
Then they collapsed on the ground giggling.
Good times.
We then had to walk back down the other side, which was pretty high – the shot is looking back towards the town of Puno.
And it’s adios from us at Taquile.
Proximo semana – Cusco, el capital del Incas.
Wednesday 19 September 2007
I can tell it's summer...
...from the size of the bugs that fly throw my window.
Of my new place, beacuse there's no flyscreens yet.
I thought I’d throw a couple of thoughts out there, just to let you know I’m still alive. Optus isn’t going to hook up our intertubes until next week, so I’ll put some photos up then.
First, I’ve just read an article in which some uni or another has predicted that up to 80% of Australians will be obese or overweight by 2020 (the year, not the crap cricket). A sobering statistic, I thought…at first.
It occurs to me, though, that unless I change my lifestyle significantly, I could reasonably hope to be in the minority. That could be a bad thing – minorities not historically getting a good run in this country – but I guess at least they might start making plane seats bigger in response to market demand.
And, given the new house purchase, 2020 is getting close to the time I could probably afford overseas travel. The seats should be as big as a double bed by then, I reckon.
Then again, that’s well past the peak oil prediction of 2011, so society will have collapsed according to some.
Which will mean everyone will be skinny as things return to the dark ages.
And plane seats will probably get smaller.
Which brings me to – would it be better if Labor lost the election? A few people reckon the world is overdue for a recession , and if even the smallest of the oil shortage predictions, or the climate change predictions, are realised, there’s going to be a downturn.
In a philosophical sense that’s not completely a bad thing – something’s gotta give; infinite growth is a stupid and unrealistic concept. However, while I don’t actually think that the punters in Australia are stupid, I do think they’re generally pretty selfish and insular, so they don’t know (or perhaps even care) about how the economy actually works – I think they’ll blame whoever’s at the wheel.
If that’s Labor, could we see a Whitlam style backlash at the end of what could-have-been a good government? If Howard won, and Costello took over, and economy went bung, they would have even less credibility left, keeping in mind that about the only area they are consistently ahead in the polls in is economic management. Perhaps if Labor threw it away, and could hold out for another three years, they would be assured of a decade in power after that.
Then again, could we handle another three years of neo-conservative bullshit?
At least there’s a positive if Labor were to lose.
But then, I suppose for them to win in 2011, by my theory, the economy would have to go to shit, which wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Arrrrr, ‘tis a right quandary aye foind m’self in.
Chao, por hoy.
Of my new place, beacuse there's no flyscreens yet.
I thought I’d throw a couple of thoughts out there, just to let you know I’m still alive. Optus isn’t going to hook up our intertubes until next week, so I’ll put some photos up then.
First, I’ve just read an article in which some uni or another has predicted that up to 80% of Australians will be obese or overweight by 2020 (the year, not the crap cricket). A sobering statistic, I thought…at first.
It occurs to me, though, that unless I change my lifestyle significantly, I could reasonably hope to be in the minority. That could be a bad thing – minorities not historically getting a good run in this country – but I guess at least they might start making plane seats bigger in response to market demand.
And, given the new house purchase, 2020 is getting close to the time I could probably afford overseas travel. The seats should be as big as a double bed by then, I reckon.
Then again, that’s well past the peak oil prediction of 2011, so society will have collapsed according to some.
Which will mean everyone will be skinny as things return to the dark ages.
And plane seats will probably get smaller.
Which brings me to – would it be better if Labor lost the election? A few people reckon the world is overdue for a recession , and if even the smallest of the oil shortage predictions, or the climate change predictions, are realised, there’s going to be a downturn.
In a philosophical sense that’s not completely a bad thing – something’s gotta give; infinite growth is a stupid and unrealistic concept. However, while I don’t actually think that the punters in Australia are stupid, I do think they’re generally pretty selfish and insular, so they don’t know (or perhaps even care) about how the economy actually works – I think they’ll blame whoever’s at the wheel.
If that’s Labor, could we see a Whitlam style backlash at the end of what could-have-been a good government? If Howard won, and Costello took over, and economy went bung, they would have even less credibility left, keeping in mind that about the only area they are consistently ahead in the polls in is economic management. Perhaps if Labor threw it away, and could hold out for another three years, they would be assured of a decade in power after that.
Then again, could we handle another three years of neo-conservative bullshit?
At least there’s a positive if Labor were to lose.
But then, I suppose for them to win in 2011, by my theory, the economy would have to go to shit, which wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Arrrrr, ‘tis a right quandary aye foind m’self in.
Chao, por hoy.
Tuesday 4 September 2007
Bring out yer dead !!!
Ever seen the classic scene from The Holy Grail? And wondered what it has to do with Puno, Peru?
Well, then you're a little strange, but I'll get to that.
For today, we're in Puno, a city just across the border from Bolivia in Peru, on the shores of Lake Titicaca (which is impressively large - don't skip a trip if you get over there). Our second land border crossing was interesting. We sort of hopped off the bus, walked a few hundred metres across a bridge, and wound up in Peru.
We wandered around town and took the obligatory autophoto in the main square.
And this is how they do in downtown Puno. There wasn't a lot of cats around, so the dogs sort of pick up the slack.
And Monty Python? Well, it turns out in Puno that the garbage trucks play a tune. We were out to dinner in a nice little place on a small street - actually, most the streets were small- and a garbage truck rolled by. I thought it was an ice cream truck for a sec, as the Peruvian version of Greensleeves wafted through the night, then people started flooding out of houses and shops, arms full of rubbish, to chuck in the back of the truck. The driver just has to cruise about with the stereo playing. Nice work.
And this isn't the place we were out for dinner at. But it was our first introduction to the ubiquitous Andean music band at every restaurant with a chance of a tourist.
There were six of us in the joint that night, tourists, that is.
Happily we were joined by 10 or so band members, along with a procession of dancers.
For two hours.
We managed to book a day trip to the Uros Islands for the next day - and it was pretty good. Some of the other people on the tour were dickheads, but not too bad - really the first sort of tour group people we came across.
This one is a shot of one of the reed islands, made of reeds, with houses, made of reeds, and boats, made of reeds.
And in the background - reeds.
Here is the livestock pen - rabbits and guinea pigs - cows being less than practical on a floating island made of cow food.
A longer shot of one of the islands. There are about 40 islands with a few hundred people living there, although they actually count by family group, not individuals.
This one shows how they make the islands. The reeds actually grow in a shallower area, and they cut chunks out with the roots still attached but floating. then they stack the reeds on top in a cross hatched pattern after tying chunks together to make a bigger island. Eventually the reeds break down and they just keep adding more - I guess one day they need a new one. Once it gets a bit crowded, say more than ten families, they just make a new island as well.
They have a school, too, but it's actually permanently attached, although the playground floats.
Then we jumped back on the boats for the trip to Taquile Island.
Fotos de la isla Taquile la vez proxima.
Chao por hoy.
Well, then you're a little strange, but I'll get to that.
For today, we're in Puno, a city just across the border from Bolivia in Peru, on the shores of Lake Titicaca (which is impressively large - don't skip a trip if you get over there). Our second land border crossing was interesting. We sort of hopped off the bus, walked a few hundred metres across a bridge, and wound up in Peru.
We wandered around town and took the obligatory autophoto in the main square.
And this is how they do in downtown Puno. There wasn't a lot of cats around, so the dogs sort of pick up the slack.
And Monty Python? Well, it turns out in Puno that the garbage trucks play a tune. We were out to dinner in a nice little place on a small street - actually, most the streets were small- and a garbage truck rolled by. I thought it was an ice cream truck for a sec, as the Peruvian version of Greensleeves wafted through the night, then people started flooding out of houses and shops, arms full of rubbish, to chuck in the back of the truck. The driver just has to cruise about with the stereo playing. Nice work.
And this isn't the place we were out for dinner at. But it was our first introduction to the ubiquitous Andean music band at every restaurant with a chance of a tourist.
There were six of us in the joint that night, tourists, that is.
Happily we were joined by 10 or so band members, along with a procession of dancers.
For two hours.
We managed to book a day trip to the Uros Islands for the next day - and it was pretty good. Some of the other people on the tour were dickheads, but not too bad - really the first sort of tour group people we came across.This one is a shot of one of the reed islands, made of reeds, with houses, made of reeds, and boats, made of reeds.
And in the background - reeds.
Here is the livestock pen - rabbits and guinea pigs - cows being less than practical on a floating island made of cow food.
A longer shot of one of the islands. There are about 40 islands with a few hundred people living there, although they actually count by family group, not individuals.
This one shows how they make the islands. The reeds actually grow in a shallower area, and they cut chunks out with the roots still attached but floating. then they stack the reeds on top in a cross hatched pattern after tying chunks together to make a bigger island. Eventually the reeds break down and they just keep adding more - I guess one day they need a new one. Once it gets a bit crowded, say more than ten families, they just make a new island as well.
They have a school, too, but it's actually permanently attached, although the playground floats.
Then we jumped back on the boats for the trip to Taquile Island.
Fotos de la isla Taquile la vez proxima.
Chao por hoy.
Sunday 2 September 2007
Life aint only supply...
...and demand.
Estamos hoy en La Paz, Bolivia. This is a shot from our bloody awesome hotel room. Towards the top there is El Alto - originally sort of a suburb of La Paz, it is now a city of almost a million in its own right. Because it's at the top of the mountains it is also now higher than La Paz.
Semantics, I say - any place that is largely above the treeline, and where breathing gives you a migraine, is high.
This is La Iglesia de San Francisco, or some such name. Sort of at the top end of la Paz, near where we were staying. This was in the news recently - some drunken Argentino climbed up during a festival and killed himself by jumping off. While he was nude. Ahh, good times.
The streets at the top of La Paz. Electricians are busy there, or maybe they're not, given a lot of these jobs look fairly DIY.
The San Pedro Prison, and no, we didn't do a tour - much too gutless for that. Read the book Marching Powder, or just surf the net a bit - very interesting place.
The obligatory local beer photo. Not a bad drop... no, actually, I lie - I can't remember, but it had to have been okay because we didn't have any bad beer on the trip.
A basket of Llama foetuses at the Witches Market. Apparently they're good luck - people buy them to bury under the floor of a new house. Unfortunately, they weren't on a menu anywhere - you'll just have to wait for the fried guinea pig, coming soon.
Finally, I took some shots out the window of the hotel at night and stitched them together. You can sort of see the seam, but you get the idea, right? Oh, yeah, the photo is quite big, give it a sec to open.
Para nuestra aventura siguiente, vamos a la ciudad de Puno, en las orillas del lago Titicaca.
Chao por hoy.
Estamos hoy en La Paz, Bolivia. This is a shot from our bloody awesome hotel room. Towards the top there is El Alto - originally sort of a suburb of La Paz, it is now a city of almost a million in its own right. Because it's at the top of the mountains it is also now higher than La Paz.
Semantics, I say - any place that is largely above the treeline, and where breathing gives you a migraine, is high.
This is La Iglesia de San Francisco, or some such name. Sort of at the top end of la Paz, near where we were staying. This was in the news recently - some drunken Argentino climbed up during a festival and killed himself by jumping off. While he was nude. Ahh, good times.
The streets at the top of La Paz. Electricians are busy there, or maybe they're not, given a lot of these jobs look fairly DIY.
The San Pedro Prison, and no, we didn't do a tour - much too gutless for that. Read the book Marching Powder, or just surf the net a bit - very interesting place.
The obligatory local beer photo. Not a bad drop... no, actually, I lie - I can't remember, but it had to have been okay because we didn't have any bad beer on the trip.
A basket of Llama foetuses at the Witches Market. Apparently they're good luck - people buy them to bury under the floor of a new house. Unfortunately, they weren't on a menu anywhere - you'll just have to wait for the fried guinea pig, coming soon.
Finally, I took some shots out the window of the hotel at night and stitched them together. You can sort of see the seam, but you get the idea, right? Oh, yeah, the photo is quite big, give it a sec to open.
Para nuestra aventura siguiente, vamos a la ciudad de Puno, en las orillas del lago Titicaca.
Chao por hoy.
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